By Scarlet

Fandom: JAG

Pairing: Harriet Sims/Renée Peterson

Rating: NC-17

Summary: Another missing scene from Valor.

This is a sequel, or companion piece, to The Simple Things, but can be read on its own. It's just a shameless PWP anyway.

Disclaimer:

Forgive me the infringement I have done.
I did it not for payment, but for fun.

Written as a birthday present for Gail, who did the beta.

* * * * *

Renée wasn't really a bad person, Harriet decided. Granted, she'd made a terrible first impression the day she stormed into the JAG office to make a recruiting video for the Navy, turning the premises upside down and insulting just about everybody in the process. But the video had eventually turned out to be a huge success, and to everyone's surprise, Renée had also managed to make Commander Rabb her boyfriend.

Harriet looked down into her wine glass and smiled to herself. She'd never have thought that the loud, assertive, brazen on the verge of vulgar Renée Peterson was Harmon Rabb's type. He seemed to want them more intellectual, and, well, more or less neurotic. But Renée had shown spirit and persistance worthy of a SEAL in her pursuit of the commander.

"Harriet, have you heard one word of what I've said?"

Renée was watching her from the other corner of Harriet's couch, a wine glass in her hand, and both eyebrows raised in impatience. She had long since kicked her shoes off and made herself comfortable, and was giving a lecture on one of her favorite subjects -- Renée Peterson.

Harriet smiled a little apologetically, but just a little. They were already half-way through their second bottle of wine, and most of the mandatory topics for an official evening of girl talk were settled. Harriet had allowed herself to relax and let her thoughts stray a little, because an evening like this was such a rare occasion. Her son was sound asleep, and her husband was out having a beer with Mic Brumby, an ex-colleague who was now working in the DC area. She had invited Renée over, mostly because she felt sorry for her being a grass widow with Harm in Bahrein. Ever-mothering Harriet, who saw to everybody else's needs before her own, hadn't expected to enjoy the evening so much.

"I'm sorry, Renée," she said sweetly. "I didn't mean to drift off, but it's so restful to just sit here and listen to you."

"Restful? How about that. I've been called many things, but restful is a new one."

Harriet pulled herself together and refilled their glasses. "You were talking about your work, and I'd really like to hear more about it. Making those rock videos must be great fun ... "

"You know what, Harriet? I've had it up to here -- " Renée gestured with her slightly shaking hand holding the glass, but mercifully not spilling a drop on her sweater -- "with rock videos and porn flicks. What I'd love to do is more news segments, like when Harm and I -- oh, and Mac -- went to Korea and the plane was hijacked. Not that I enjoyed being taken hostage and having my life threatened, but if I could make a name for myself as a serious news photographer ... "

Harriet put three pretzels in her mouth and tried to look as though she were listening, but Renée stopped mid-sentence.

"Harriet, you look like I just stepped on your foot with eight-inch heels. Do you want me to leave? If you're tired, I don't want to keep you up."

"No, no." Harriet coughed a little and looked accusingly at the bowl of pretzels. "I just thought I heard you say porn flicks." She smiled uncertainly and shrugged.

"Yeah?" Renée's expressive, well-manicured hands made a gesture that clearly meant 'and ... ?'

"You've made dirty movies?" Harriet hated that little squeak in her voice and usually managed to control it, but this time, she failed.

"Dirty?" Renée set down her glass on the table with an emphatic thud, and Harriet thanked her house gods for preventing yet another red wine disaster. Next time she had a friend over, she'd choose white wine.

"There was nothing dirty about them, Harriet," Renée explained. "At least, I tried to make them ... " She visibly struggled to find the words. "Sweet, and beautiful, and warm, and erotic. Why don't you borrow my copies, watch them with Bud?"

Watch dirty ... erotic videos with Bud? He'd be shocked out of his Navy uniform... then again, maybe that was the point. Harriet took another thoughtful sip of her wine.

"I don't know, Renée. Not that I have a lot of experience, but I've got the impression that most of those movies are more or less degrading to women."

"Exactly. That's why my movies are exclusively about women."

Harriet just stared.

"You know," Renée continued, "a woman all alone, pleasuring herself, or two women together. That way you don't have to be disturbed by the whole sex role thing. I mean, the gender issue." She put on a mock-serious, this-is-very-highbrow-journalism face.

"Um. Yeah." Harriet straightened on the couch. "You know, I forgot the water. You want some? Water?"

"Sure."

Harriet went into the kitchen on shakier legs than she had expected. Opening a second bottle had really been unnecessary, but the evening was going so fast in Renée's company, and all the talking made them thirsty. Then the wine made them more talkative, which made them even thirstier ... Harriet filled two tall glasses with bottled water, but on her way back to the living room she stopped for a moment and rested her forehead against the refrigerator.

Harriet was a very happily married woman. Bud was a wonderful husband and a considerate, tender lover. Although she worked in the testosterone-filled environment at JAG, Harriet was never tempted to touch another man. Look, sure, but not touch.

But occasionally, she allowed herself to have fantasies. Crazy, out of this world fantasies, populated solely by strong, assertive, brazen-on-the-verge-of-vulgar women. Women just like Renée Peterson, actually.

The sight of the striking blonde in black leather jeans, oozing self-confidence, striding into the JAG office to drag her boyfriend off as if she were the soldier and not him, hadn't failed to make a lasting impression on Harriet's fantasy life.

Now would probably be a good time to call it a night. Mention how tired she was, and how little AJ always woke up early in the morning. So nice of you to come over, we really must do this again.

Yes, that's what she was going to say. Just as soon as they had finished the wine and the water.

Renée was more lying down than sitting in her corner of the couch when Harriet returned with the glasses. She looked like a happy, sleepy cat, and Harriet was sure she could make Renée start purring if she scratched her belly. And she didn't need that image in her head, not at all.

Harriet sat down and opened her mouth to ask something about the news media. What came out was, "Do you really think I could show your videos to Bud?"

Renée grinned. "That's the beauty of it. Everybody likes to see women having sex. Women like it, because we can put ourselves in their place, we know what it feels like to have those things done to us. And men like it ... because they like to watch women, I guess."

Harriet jumped in, intrigued despite herself. "Yes, I've always wondered why so many men watch these lesbian movies. Don't they make the guys feel redundant?"

Renée tasted the water and smacked her lips as if savoring the crispness on her tongue. "Well, I asked a boyfriend once, who shall remain nameless here," she giggled. "He thought the big thrill was to see a woman aroused. So I said yeah, but why two women? And he said well, twice as big turn-on. Make sense?" She looked pleadingly at Harriet.

"Not a lot."

"Well, I'll leave it to someone else to work out the theory part," Renée chuckled. "Anyway. This is the first erotic movie I made: A woman is alone, having a nice, quiet evening on her own. The atmosphere is warm and cozy, with a fireplace and candlelight, and she's lying on this huge bed with lots of pillows ... "

Harriet tried not to envision the scene. She really tried. But even the innocent description of the room, the fire and the woman relaxing among her pillows caused a warm, mellow feeling to start growing deep inside her. That Renée was telling the story in a seductive, hypnotic voice didn't help, either.

"She's in her silk pajamas -- peach-colored silk, to enhance the warm, soft feeling of the scene -- and she's stroking over the silk, enjoying the lovely texture, and then she happens to brush over her breast. It feels good, so she does it again."

The warmth was pooling in Harriet's belly and then sinking lower, settling down as a persistent buzz between her legs. All right. Nothing to worry about. She was OK, completely in control of herself and letting Renée tell her story.

"Then she is caressing her breasts with both hands and arching" -- Renée demonstrated with a slow, sinuous movement -- "her body into the touch. Nothing is hurried, she has all the time in the world to enjoy her body ... "

It would be a lot easier, Harriet thought, to remain in complete control if Renée didn't act out the movie as she described it. But Renée didn't seem to care that Harriet was all but squirming at her end of the couch. She continued to lazily touch her own round, firm breasts as her eyes closed and her voice dropped even lower.

"You can see the outline of her nipples, already hard under the silk, and how she's pinching them ... " Renée's hands disappeared under her sweater.

Harriet heard herself speak, and for the first time in her life, she understood that old cliché from the books, where people always 'heard themselves speak', because she couldn't remember deciding to speak or sending any kind of command to her mouth. She just heard a voice that logically had to be her own, and it said, "Why don't you take that off?"

Renée looked mildly surprised for a fraction of a second. Then, with another smooth movement, she was out of the sweater and settled back on the couch. Knowing Renée, Harriet had expected to see black lace underneath, but tonight she wore a bright red lace bra that suited her very well.

When Renée resumed the narrative, her voice was several nuances thicker and lower, and her eyes were half closed, but still meeting Harriet's. "She keeps touching her breasts, pinching her nipples, wetting a finger" -- Renée did so -- "and circling them ... "

"I think it's time she got out of the pants, too," Harriet suggested, shocked at herself. Her mouth was dry as a desert, so she gulped down some more of the water.

Renée obeyed, wiggling out of her pants and revealing more red lace underwear. "After a while, she feels the urge to touch herself somewhere else ..." She looked questioningly up at Harriet, who nodded encouragingly.

"I like this movie," she said with a smile. Yes, it was just a movie. She found comfort and amusement in the thought.

Renée seemed comfortable with the idea, too. One hand found its way down to the lace panties and softly stroked the thin fabric. Fingertips with lacquered nails, exactly the same color as the exquisite lace, lightly caressed the swelling mound under the delicate wrapping. Renée's breasts were heaving, and Harriet found her own breathing matching that of her friend.

Renée swallowed. Her lips parted, but no words came out. She quickly licked them and looked once again as if she was trying to speak.

Harriet had been taking another sip of her wine, but suddenly remembered that she was in the director's chair. "Oh ... and then, and then she can't wait any longer, she just has to slip her hand inside her panties. Right?"

Renée nodded mutely, but didn't follow the directions this time. Instead, her hands came to rest on the insides of her smooth, creamy thighs. "I think maybe we should switch to another movie," she purred, a wicked smile starting to form on her generous mouth.

Now it was Harriet's turn to swallow and nervously lick her lips. "What options do we have?"

"Well, one movie I really liked was the one where the woman visits a shop to buy herself a sex toy, and the woman who works there helps her to try them all out ... "

Harriet gasped and giggled simultaneously. "I'm afraid I don't have the necessary props for that one. Unless you keep a fully equipped sex shop in your purse?"

"No." Renée chuckled softly. "Then there was a movie that started out almost like the first one, with a woman getting hot and bothered all by herself, until luckily a friend comes over on an unexpected visit ... "

"And?" Harriet whispered.

"I think it's easier if I just show you."

Harriet put down the glass on the table, only now realizing how hard she had been clutching it. She grabbed the hem of her sweater. "Should I ... "

When Renée nodded, Harriet quickly disposed of most of her clothing and tossed it playfully behind the couch. This was just a movie anyway, and since she was going to be a movie star, it was a good thing that she had put on her nice, champagne-colored underwear.

Renée opened her arms, and Harriet couldn't believe how easy it was to just slip into the other woman's embrace, sink down onto the welcoming softness of her body. Their lips brushed, tentatively at first, then with increasing boldness. Harriet had never kissed another woman before, except in her dreams, and it was sweet and deliciously arousing.

She drew back and looked into Renée's eyes, seeing the matching hunger there.

"There are so many things two women can do together," Renée whispered. "So many wonderful things."

"Tell me. No, show me."

Renée smiled, and with her lips moist and swollen from the kisses it was one of the hottest sights Harriet had ever seen. "I don't have to. You're doing it already."

She was right. Somehow, Harriet's leg had slipped between Renée's thighs, and Renée's thigh was in turn pressed to her own throbbing sex. She only had to rock gently against the other woman to feel waves of pleasure rising and swelling through her body.

"Yes," Renée gasped.

"Wait." Harriet was panting, but damn if she was going to rush the most exciting erotic adventure of her life. "Slow." She made an effort to compose a complete sentence. "I want to see more of you."

Harriet unhooked and removed her own bra, and nodded when Renée did the same.

Renée filled her hands with Harriet's liberated breasts. "You're so beautiful."

"So are you."

Harriet squeezed Renée's nipples like she had seen her friend do to herself earlier, and enjoyed the soft moans her actions brought to Renée's lips. They were slowly rocking against each other again and playing with each other's breasts, rocking and playing and teasing, and then kissing hungrily, and then Harriet just had to feel what it was like to have another woman's breast in her mouth, which meant she had to slide a little bit down Renée's body, and then she was sucking and kissing and licking and very carefully biting, and Renée was squirming and moaning under her.

Harriet's right hand decided it hadn't been playing a prominent enough part in the movie and went southward to explore. When her fingers found Renée's silk panties, they teasingly stroked back and forth between her legs and elicited short little gasps from Renée.

Dazed with wine and lust and shocked by her own boldness, Harriet looked up into her friend's face and found the same dazed look there. She kissed Renée's generous mouth again and bit the lower lip a little. Renée smiled, but when Harriet's fingers found their way inside her panties, she inhaled sharply while her eyes fluttered close.

Harriet marveled at the hot, wet, slippery sensation at her fingertips. She, Harriet, was doing this to another woman. She had to put the miracle into words. "You're so wet," she whispered into Renée's ear.

"You're making me that way, Harriet."

Renée's hands had managed to do some wandering of their own and were cupping Harriet's breasts, deftly teasing the stiffening nipples by circling her thumbs over them, again and again. It was driving Harriet to new, unprecedented levels of arousal. She moved an inch to give Renée better access, but she didn't stop exploring the slick, moist heat between Renée's legs. She slowly pushed a finger inside the glorious wetness, then pulled it out again and ran the pad of her moistened finger over and around Renée's clitoris, which made Renée make new sounds, more urgent and just short of desperate.

She withdrew her hand and harshly whispered, "Take them off."

There was a new glint in Renée's eyes, and the mischievous smile was back when she obeyed. "Harriet, I love it when you're in dominant mode."

Harriet smiled back. "Maybe you want me to put on my uniform?"

"If I could put you in a movie wearing a uniform, bossing the other girls around, I'd make enough money to never have to work again."

"Wouldn't you like that." Harriet teasingly bit Renée's earlobe, but then she turned serious. There was something she always had wanted to do.

"Can I ... kiss you?"

"You don't have to." Renée sounded equally serious.

"No, but I want to."

"Then I want you to," Renée admitted, shifting on the soft couch and spreading her legs some more.

It was all that she had expected and yet it wasn't. With eyes, fingers, and tongue, Harriet found out that Renée was not exactly like herself, but not that different, either. She smelled and tasted different, too, but nice, with a faint tang of green apples. Harriet could get lost there forever, but Renée's whimpers were getting more and more impatient, and Harriet took pity on her. She made a direct attack on Renée's clit, letting the tip of her tongue play mercilessly over it while she pushed two fingers inside her, in and out, with more and more conviction as she could feel Renée's body tightening with the inevitable climax.

At the crucial moment Renée seemed to remember that little A.J. was sleeping upstairs, and for that Harriet was very grateful. Renée muffled her cries in one of the cushions as her entire body tensed and convulsed with orgasm.

Harriet crawled up to her barely conscious friend and hugged her. Her heart was beating with excitement, and not all of it was the sexual arousal; some of it was happiness and astonishment and just plain pride that wow, she just made her friend come so hard she didn't know what hit her.

But Renée recuperated fast. "Your turn," she whispered drowsily and tried to change places with the curvy blonde.

"Not so fast." If Renée wanted her women dominant, Harriet could do dominant. What was the use of being a Navy officer unless you got to give orders, after all?

"Don't move." She took Renée's hands in a firm grip, looked her steadily in the eyes, and made her voice low but very clear. "I want you to eat me, and you better do a good job of it, or you'll be swabbing decks until next Christmas."

If the gleam in Renée's eyes hadn't been proof enough, her uncharacteristically subdued, frightened little whisper "Yes, ma'am" told Harriet that her act had hit the right spot. Renée clearly enjoyed this game that Harriet hadn't even known that she could play. Would Bud like it if she tried to be bossy in bed? It could be interesting to find out.

"So get to it." Harriet unceremoniously removed her panties, straddled Renée's face and watched with pounding heart as Renée slowly licked her lips with big eyes and pretended nervousness. She lowered herself onto those luscious lips and that little pink tongue and gasped as they made contact with her throbbing flesh.

"Yes. That's it. Mmm, you're good at this, aren't you."

Harriet had dreamed about being seduced by strong, assertive women; she had never guessed that she could be so assertive in bed herself. It was a thrill to feel so completely in control of her own pleasure, even if it meant that she had to ask for, no, demand what she wanted.

"Fingers. Like I did to you."

Renée seemed to have been waiting for the command. She slid a finger into Harriet's moist heat, then two fingers, applying just the right pressure at just the right angle, and all the time tonguing Harriet's sensitized little nub.

Harriet had never been so desperate to come in her entire life. She tried to touch her own breasts, like Renée had done, but found that she needed to hold on to the couch for support.

"More. More!"

Overcome with wanton desire, she pressed herself against Renée's talented mouth, and there it was, that delicious edge, getting closer and closer and --

For a moment Harriet soared through emptiness.

And then she was coming. And then she was coming and coming and oh god would it ever stop and coming and Renée guided her right through it and carried her safely up on the other side of the abyss.

But it wasn't over yet. After only a few short minutes the heat started rising in both of them again, and they kept pleasuring each other with fingers and mouths until finally there wasn't a single fiber in their bodies that wasn't completely sated.

Harriet reached for her glass of water and drank deeply. Then she turned to her lover for another kiss, exquisitely flavored with both their juices. She needed to brush her teeth before she could give Bud his welcome kiss, that was for sure.

Bud?! Dear god ... what time was it, anyway?

Renée had been lying half on top of her and murmured sleepily when Harriet quickly got up and grabbed her clothes.

"I'm taking a shower, and I think you'd better get dressed," Harriet explained quickly.

"OK." Talkative person that she usually was, Renée was obviously just as able to shut up and take action as any of Harriet's Navy colleagues.

In the shower, Harriet once more thanked her lucky stars that her son had been sleeping so peacefully all evening. She brushed her hair, her teeth -- thoroughly -- and quickly threw on her clothes.

While Renée was freshening up in the bathroom, Bud came home. His kiss tasted of beer, and he apologized profusely for being late.

"No problem, honey," Harriet assured him. "I hope you and Mic had a good time."

"Oh yeah." Bud nodded and gave his best sheepishly- innocent look. It was adorable how he seemed to feel guilty just for going out and having a few beers with a friend, Harriet thought.

"Did you and Renée have a good evening, too?"

"Wonderful!" Renée emerged from the bathroom. "But now, I'm leaving your wife in your very capable hands." She winked at Bud; her normal, brazen, almost sober self again, and put on her coat.

"Thanks for coming!" Harriet half whispered, half yelled, before she could put her hand to her mouth.

Renée turned around with her brightest, most dazzling smile. "Thanks for letting me come, Harriet!"

Harriet closed the door with burning cheeks and went inside to join her husband.

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