This story is dedicated to boyd.

As always, thank you noon, for so very many reasons.

Tiny spoilers for "Light My Fire"

Megan Conner juggled a precarious pile of files, two doughnuts and one cup of coffee as she entered the precinct. Somehow, the doughnut girl had taken it into her head to declare her undying enmity, and that was simply because a few weeks ago she had mentioned that the muffins were a tad stale. "And they were," she muttered self-righteously beneath her breath. "Whatever happened to truth in advertising as you Yanks always say?"

Good, someone was ahead of her. Hopefully, she would be heading upstairs too. The woman pressed the up button as Megan drew abreast of her and Megan breathed a sigh of relief.

Obviously the woman next to her was an impatient one, drumming her fingers against the side of the elevator until it arrived. The two women entered together. There was a little jostling and Megan moved back, allowing the woman to move in ahead of her. However, the coffee was not faring well. It tilted and wobbled precariously from its perch at the top of her pile.

A slender, pale hand moved into view. "I've got it."

"Ta."

Megan glanced at her erstwhile companion. Masses of black hair around a - Be still my heart! - gorgeous face. Megan dragged her mind back to business.

"Umm, did you press seven?"

"Yeah," came the clipped response.

Maybe Major Crime was getting new blood. Megan wouldn't mind that, it would pretty much kill the teeny seed of attraction she felt. She absolutely never dated anyone with whom she worked. But, those masses of black curly ringlets, those slightly pouty lips - might be serious reasons for changing her mind. Then again, the person might be a visitor. From this angle Megan could not see a visitor's badge; but those were clip-on doohickeys and it could be hiding under all those tight curls. Starting to run through the list of all the people who staffed Major Crime, Megan wondered whose wife she was planning to seduce. She closed her mouth with a snap. That was, to paraphrase another curly haired person, "So not the right thing to do." But whenever did she listen to Sandy?

"You new?"

"Huh?"

Megan jerked her head to the row of buttons. "You pressed seven, Major Crime."

The woman turned to face her and smiled.

Megan wondered if her jaw had dropped. The woman in front of her was beautiful.

"You're a detective, right?"

"Yeah, in Major Crime."

The woman smiled again and stuck out her hand, the one that was not holding the coffee cup. "Deborah Reeves, Arson."

Megan stuck out a finger in exchange. Her hands were full already and she could not free them. "Megan Conner, on loan from the Aussies."

The smile merged into a toothy grin. "Are you showing us how it's done?"

Megan forced her features into primness. "I am here to bring Cascade up to speed with modern Australian crime fighting techniques."

The elevator doors slid apart. Mindful of what had happened on their entrance, Megan nodded to Deborah.

"So is it taking?" Deborah asked as she exited the elevator.

Megan observed the trim figure moving ahead of her. As the doors started to close, she stuck her foot out and blocked them from shutting.

"Is it?" Deborah turned around and asked again.

"Is what? Uhh, is it taking, you mean?" Megan repeated. Internally, she was calling herself some choice names. "Well, you know, it's a give and take thing."

Deborah pushed the door open for her and waited. Megan sailed through and headed for her desk. Those files were gaining weight as time passed. Dumping them quickly, she managed to save the sliding doughnuts.

"What happened to Katy?" Deborah placed the cup on the desk.

"Who?"

"Katy?" Deborah pointed to the small plate with two doughnuts. "I thought she was a fixture in Major Crime."

"She is, just not for me." Megan's answer was precisely vague.

Deborah laughed. "Said the muffins were stale, didn't you?"

Megan's mouth rounded. "How'd you guess?"

"I'm in her evil books also."

"Ohh-"

"Reeves, is that you?" Jim Ellison was just leaving Captain Simon Banks' office when he called out across the squad room.

Deborah swung around beaming. "Ellison, they haven't thrown you out of Major Crime yet?"

The man and woman moved naturally into each other's arms. Megan's hopes plummeted. If Jim Ellison were on the case, she might as well forget about it.

"It's been a long time," Jim murmured. "How're you doing?"

Megan noticed that Blair was hanging back. Leaving the pair to their low voiced conversation, she picked up her bribe. Waving the fresh doughnuts in front of Blair, she asked, "So what's the story? She told me she was in Arson."

Blair studied the treat before him. "From Bernadette's? You never share!" Blair's hand hovered over the raspberry filled treat and Megan winced. "You must want some gossip."

Blair bit into the powdered doughnut, then said, "Deborah Reeves lost her old man about thirteen months ago. Her father's best friend was the murderer as well as the one who had been setting the high temperature fires. It tore her up pretty badly. She cleared up her cases and went away for awhile. She must've just come back."

"Where'd she go?" Megan glanced at the woman who was still chatting with Jim Ellison. Next to the tall man, Deborah appeared tiny and fragile.

"New Zealand, I think. Her dad was into surfin' in a big way. She mentioned something about MacCaffrey's Bay before she left. In fact that's what helped Jim catch the killer."

"So, uhh, she came back to see Jim?"

Blair gulped the last of his treat. "No way. They struck the worst sparks off each other."

Wryly Megan responded, "Yeah, but you know those sparks sometimes lead to the best of times."

Blair looked at the Australian detective. "There might be someone, but I'm sure it's not Jim."

Megan tried not to blush. "I'm out of practice, Sandy. It's been a while."

"What's so hard?" Grasping her hand, Blair pulled her toward the couple. "Hey Deborah, how was New Zealand? Did you get a lot or surfing done? Me? I'm staying away from that stuff. I wonder if you've met our newest addition, Megan Conner, Deborah Reeves." Blair paused for breath finally.

Even Jim was looking at him with admiration. "Why do I smell Bernadette's raspberry filled doughnut."

Blair grinned unrepentantly.

"Lick your lips. If Katy sees you, my supply is cut off."

"That's my Blessed Protector," Blair muttered sentinel-soft, "always thinking with his stomach." Nevertheless, Blair licked his lips, erasing the evidence.

Deborah smiled at Megan. "Uhh, have you been to New Zealand?"

"Yes, but not on a vacation, I was too busy catching bad guys."

A shadow crossed Deborah Reeves' face. "I used to be. You need to take a break."

It was the unsubtle poke in the middle of her back from Blair that prompted Megan to speak. "I should, err, but you know, err..."

Megan felt the tide of warmth that was starting somewhere near her toes and rising fast to cover her entire face.

Blair covered quickly. "Hey Megan, if I were you, I would head outside with that doughnut. You know, Katy hasn't forgiven you for the last remark." Herding the two women and his partner together he guided them toward the door.

"Uhh right." Megan cursed; all her scintillating conversation had evaporated. All right, she wasn't smooth all the time, but she was pretty much acting like a dimwit now.

The conversation swirled around her. Blair asked something funny, Jim responded and somehow in a flurry of small talk, she and Deborah were alone, the two men having walked off to go follow some leads or some such.

Megan asked the only question that was rattling around her brain, "Why aren't you seeing Jim Ellison?"

That question was promptly followed by her slapping her hands over her mouth. "Mmmph."

A dark eyebrow winged upward. "He's not really my type."

"Gawd, I did not just say that. I am SO sorry."

"No, it's fine. You're refreshingly honest. I prefer that."

"Uhh, well, I just call it sticking my foot in my mouth, but I'll accept honest."

Deborah was silent for a moment, then said, "Look, do you want to grab some lunch sometime?"

Megan subsided. "Yeah, sure, sure, whenever." She turned around muttering to herself, 'I know a brush off when I hear one.'

Megan found her arm grasped as she was spun around, "I do NOT lie, Megan Conner."

Megan looked down at her arm and the firm grip pressing into her flesh.

"Shit!" Deborah looked down at their connection, "I'm sorry. Shall we start again?" Gently she released her grip on the Aussie's arm. "I'm Deborah Reeves, I have no manners because I just spent the last twelve months living on a beach all by myself." Deborah dimpled and held out her hand.

Caught up in the warm smile, Megan extended her arm. "Pleased to meet you, I'm Megan Conner and if you're free, I'd love to have lunch with you today."

"Let me check in with Arson and get my paperwork reactivated. How does 12:30 sound?"

A blinding glow lit up Megan's face. "If you say Wonderburger, you've got a date." She refused to curse the blush presently warming her face. But this was her first date in a long while and darn it, she was out of practice.

Deborah smiled conspiratorially. "I can't wait. I've been lusting for a triple decker special since I landed."

Deborah turned away, leaving Megan smiling fatuously at her departing form. It wasn't until Rafe stuck his head out of the bullpen that she realized the Captain was bellowing for her. Something about the Martino homicide.

Not even that thorn in her side Tommy Martino, whom she knew had killed his wife to inherit the jewelry business even if there wasn't a shred of evidence, could put a crimp in her day. She had a date with the sexiest woman she had met in a long while. And imagine, she wasn't a criminal.

Megan sat at the coziest booth she could find open in Wonderburger at lunch. Of course that meant elbowing some cops out of the way and swooping into the tiny booth ahead of a family of four. She could not see outside the door, since the line snaked out and around the counter, obscuring her view of the incoming babe. Snorting to herself, she wondered what made her even classify Deborah -- spelled with an h; she had checked before lunch -- as a date. The woman probably had a sexy fireman holed up somewhere who was ecstatic to see her back. Hmmm, for all she knew, he had probably returned from Bali with her.

Megan rubbed her index finger against her chin. If she closed her eyes, she could probably fill in the blanks and come up with an accurate mental picture of Deborah -- with an h -- Reeves' boyfriend.

"Are you ok?"

Megan let out a startled squawk. "Uh-uh-yeah," she stammered.

Deborah stood before her. She had tied back the mass of curly, dark hair, but some shorter ringlets had escaped and framed her face.

"What were you doing?"

"Do-doing?" Megan scrambled for an explanation. "Umm, thinking about a case."

Deborah nodded in agreement. "I can't tell you how many times I've been there." She looked down at the empty table. "Did you place your order?"

Megan grinned, her self assurance catching up with her. "I hope you were serious about the triple decker special. I ordered two."

"You remembered? That's exactly what I wanted."

Both women smiled at each other, finding common ground and a quiet moment amidst the noise of the popular restaurant.

They might have remained in that position if the young boy whose voice was just breaking hadn't announced on the PA system, "Number 149. -- Two triple deckers with all the fixings."

"Our order's up."

Megan blinked. "Right. Yeah, uh, hold the table. I'll get the food."

She charged off for the counter and was back within minutes. "Um, I wasn't sure what you wanted, so- all you Yanks like coke, right?"

Deborah grinned, "I have been lusting after a Super Gulp Coke also, so that's fine."

Megan lost all control of her knees and dropped into the vacant chair. 'Lusting,' she chanted internally, 'I'm lusting.'

Hypnotised by her lunch companion, Megan followed her actions avidly, from the minute her hands closed around the triple decker, to the first bite as Deborah opened her mouth wide and sank her teeth into the hamburger.

Megan swallowed a moan. For a brief panicked instant she wondered if it had been audible when Deborah looked up. "You aren't hungry?" She gestured with her full hands.

"Where's your accent from?" Megan blurted.

Deborah smiled. "Accent? Me? I don't have an accent; you have an accent."

Megan shook her head. "Mine's just plain Oz, but yours is really classy."

Like the broken pieces of a kaleidoscope that are shaken suddenly to form a new pattern, Deborah reviewed Megan's actions since they'd met. Thoughtfully she peeked over her sandwich and observed her lunch companion. Maybe. Just maybe....

Later that evening Megan pulled on her black lycra leotard. After the day she'd had, she was looking forward to kicking out her aggressions. Swiping at the table behind her blindly, she snagged her filled water bottle and a square white towel. She had passed on using the Cascade PD gym months ago, preferring instead to use the one at the hotel where she'd stayed when she arrived in Cascade. Though, finding out that Debra used that gym might cause her to return.

Once Simon Banks had confirmed her continued employment with the CPD, Megan had found an apartment. Conveniently, it formed a point of an equilateral triangle marked by the hotel and CPD which meant she could walk to both in less than 15 minutes. She assuaged her guilty conscience by telling herself that living in a high rent district kept her off the streets and thus kept Cascade residents safe from her driving.

Entering the gym a short time later, she nodded at a few of the regulars. Bending and tying her shoelaces tightly, she headed for the open area in front of the punching bag.

That bag had better watch out.

Wham! That one was for the Perry kid. Young boy who had been killed last night and why?

Wham! Because he wanted to make his brother proud by joining a gang.

Wham! That was for being an idiot this morning. Imagine thinking Deborah Reeves might be interested in her!

Wham! And for lunch, did she lose her cool or what?

Wham! Wham! Gawd, you would think she had a permanent blush on her face.

Wham! It was the first time in a long time she had focused so completely on a woman.

Wham! Wham! The grapevine at the PD had been completely silent on Deborah Reeves. Most talked about her excellent arrest record and dogged determination to solve her cases.

Wham! Wham! Megan did a one-two combination. It would be nice to have Deb-o-rah, she elongated every syllable, focus on her.

Megan stood stock still, opening her hands to catch the bag that came swinging back to her. Did she really want to mess in her own backyard? She had been so damn careful here in Cascade. Always being one with the guys, she had become accepted. If she pursued this, if even Deborah Reeves were interested, it could make things very, very sticky.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. The majority of her life was spent with the Major Crime gang and they had accepted Jim and Blair, so if she threw them a curve ball with Deborah, they should be okay with it.

Megan reached for her towel and wiped the sweat off her face. 'Face it!' she told herself, 'You know you're a stubborn dingo and you're gonna pursue that woman until she gives in.' With that quiet promise made, she finished her workout quickly; she had an accidental meeting to arrange.

Megan squatted and peered into her messy cupboard. This was her last resort.

She had given up on trying to run into Deborah at work. It appeared that the woman only came in occasionally and spent most of her time outside in fieldwork. She had even tried going to the PD gym a couple of times hoping to run into her but after finishing a three hour workout, an overdose of male testosterone had driven her away.

A particularly nasty fire at a downtown office building had taken up everyone's time and Deborah had been assigned as the primary on it. It appeared that the dogged Ms. Reeves was back in the saddle.

Megan sat back with her prize, a ratty pair of sneakers. Her sources had told her that Deborah went surfing off Seagull's Point early in the morning. Well, if Deborah hung out at the beach, then she planned to become a fixture there. Megan wrinkled her nose, not her choice of activity for the morning, but when they got together, she would be sure to introduce the delectable Ms. Reeves to more pleasurable morning pursuits.

Lacing up her sneakers tightly, Megan grabbed a heavier sweater and left her apartment shivering. She wondered anew just who the gods of Cascade had pissed off so that the weather was always damp and cold.

Driving to Seagull's point was a piece of cake. There was that old familiarity she had earned a few months ago with the large number of trips she had taken there in while investigating a double homicide. She fitted her small car in the nearly non-existent parking spot next to Deborah's Jeep.

Megan looked around. It was pretty here. Making a pretense of stretching she surveyed the area around her, turning and twisting her body.

There! Deborah was gliding into shore. She was wearing a formfitting yellow and black full suit. Biting her lower lip, Megan wondered which approach would net her the best results. Coming to a decision, she set off on a slow jog toward the other woman.

Once she was within shouting distance, she waved. "Reeves. Hey." She waved energetically again and shouted, "Hi."

The trim woman turned around. When she recognized Megan, a wide grin lit up her face.

"Hi to you too."

Megan skidded to a stop. "G'day, again. How've you been?"

Deborah pushed the drying curls away from her face. "Busy. I've been busy. You?"

"Solving crime as always."

Silence fell between the two women. Megan rushed into speech. "Uh, I heard you caught that woman who'd set the fire downtown."

Deborah shook her head. "Yeah, the things women do for love. Imagine, believing a man."

Megan nodded in commiseration at the strange flights of women. "Umm, have you settled back into a routine?"

Deborah turned to face the ocean. "It's been difficult. Err, I left for MacCaffrey's Bay soon after Jim and I caught the man who murdered my father. Coming back here is strange. I keep seeing him - my dad."

Megan risked a gentle pat. "I'm sorry luv. I've been there. Losing someone close to you is hard. You never really forget."

Silence descended again. "Uhh..."

"Do you...?"

Both women broke into speech at the same time.

Megan spread her hands wide. "You first, ok?"

Deborah positioned her board again then she broke into speech. "Look, I'm at loose ends this evening, well most evenings really. I'm rattling around in that big house all by myself. I'd love some company. Err, talk shop, you know."

"Gawd, I'd love too. That's be great. I can't tell you when last I've had a homecooked meal." Megan crossed her fingers behind her back childishly. It was true, yes, she had enjoyed dinner at Chez Ellison/Sandburg a week ago, but it had been Mexican takeout. Anyway she could always do with a homecooked meal.

"Do you have paper? I'll give you my address," Debra offered.

"Sure, my car's over there." Megan pointed off in the distance. "I'm done with my workout anyway." She groaned internally. What a liar she was becoming. But she reasoned, there was a goal to all this lying. She glanced at the gorgeous picture Deborah made, the form fitting rubber suit moulding to her trim body. As usual tiny curls framed her face, the main mass held back with some sort of clasp. Megan felt a wave of intense desire pass through her. Maybe she could find in Cascade what she hadn't been able to in Sydney.

Deborah shifted. "I've got to change then head downtown to the PD. Are you working today?"

Megan grinned. "You're looking at a free woman. Solved the Martino murder finally. Got evidence on that scumbag."

Smiling broadly, Deborah said, "Good, I was hoping someone had an excuse to celebrate. You bring the wine."

"That's a fair exchange I think."

"Hmm, it'll be interesting to see what value you place on my cooking," Deborah teased. The curly haired woman picked up her board and turned away to go to her truck. The clack of the slamming trunk startled Megan out of her stupor. She had been admiring the woman's behind and she had forgotten all about getting the address.

"Uhh, Reeves - Deborah."

"Yeah?" Deborah straightened up looked at Megan.

"Address? You're not going to give up a chance to drink some Foster's, are you?"

"Sorry. Give me some paper, I'll give it to you."

A few scribbles later Megan was in possession of the coveted address. Not that she did not know where it was before today - the desk sergeant had been very helpful - but today she 'officially' got it from the source. "Ta."

"Wait a sec. Foster's? Isn't that beer?"

"Sure it is. It's better than wine." Megan waited. It might be unimportant to some people but for her there was a lot of national pride plus good taste in Foster's.

Grinning, Deborah shook her head. "An Aussie willing to part with a Foster's? I'm gonna have to come up with a meal worthy of that."

Megan's small frame collapsed as the air whooshed out of her, and she chuckled. "You do that, Reeves. Let's see what you can do. Seven, OK?"

Deborah pressed her lips together, smoothed her facial expression before answering blandly, "Twelve hours from now. That might just be enough time for a masterpiece worthy of Foster's. But only just barely, you understand."

Megan was utterly serious when she answered, having had a minute more to compose her features and gather her wits. "Truly, no cooking masterpiece can compare with a Foster's but you're welcome to try."

Deborah broke out into outright laughter. Checking the fit of her surfboard overhanging the back of her vehicle one more time, she waved and then climbed into her Jeep. With a cheery wave she pulled out of the parking lot and turned the vehicle toward Cascade.

Megan waited until the black Jeep was a speck down the road. Murmuring to herself, she unlocked her car door. "That went well. She passed the beer test. If she passes my dress code, I'm gonna bail her up and have a naughty with her."

Wiping her sweaty hands on her pink coat, Megan took some deep breaths. "You have to come out of the car." She checked her lipstick in the rear view mirror. "Don't be a dill; it's just dinner." But the muttered words had a hollow ring and the tiny flutter deep in her core gave the lie to that statement. Grasping the plastic door latch, Megan took a deep breath, grabbed the six pack of lager and emerged from the car.

The short walkway up to the Reeves residence was both too short and endless. Megan pressed the doorbell. There was no answer. She tried again.

She pressed her ear against the screen door then looked around selfconsciously. She couldn't hear a thing and she didn't have Ellison's ears. As a cop, a number of scenarios ran through her head when the door wasn't opened; Megan reached for her revolver in her purse and, grappling with the six pack and the purse, pulled it out. As soon as she did, she paused. As a woman, another set of reasons emerged running along a parallel track. It was the woman who stayed her hand and she did not blow the door lock.

Suddenly she heard an engine gunning down the street. The Australian woman whipped into shooting stance, gun at the ready. The black Jeep squealed to a stop behind her little car and a grimy Deborah Reeves appeared.

Even with a walkway's length between them, Megan could hear the stream of epithets. Striding up the paved path, Deborah tried to tug her hair into place - a useless exercise; her hair was ashy and Megan was sure there were wood splinters trapped among the curls.

"I'm so sorry I'm late. I'm glad you waited. The gun is a bit excessive but whatever floats your boat, I guess."

Megan laughed nervously - Deborah had not stood her up. "You know, it's the Foster's."

The two women's eyes met. Deborah touched Megan's gun hand fleetingly. "Thanks, though."

Jiggling the key in the lock, Deborah said, "I'll have to invite you again for a homecooked meal." Megan's heart plummeted, but the brunette continued, "But for tonight, what about Italian?"

Megan gasped for air. She hadn't realized she had been holding her breath. "Err, Italian's fine. Whatever you want." Finishing the sentence internally, she quipped to herself, 'Italian, Chinese, Me?'

"Take out menus are on the fridge." Deborah waved her arm towards a closed doorway. "Order anything you like. I am partial to Antonino's but the wait is kinda long: Sarducci's will do in a pinch. Don't do Giovanni's though, unless you really have the urge for garlic bread. That's about the only good thing... " She faltered for a moment. "I'm really sorry. I am a good cook and I really wanted to have dinner ready for you and I could've if I hadn't spent two hours crawling through that burnt out tenement building in Southtown. But if you don't want to order and you can wait a bit, that's if you don't have something else to do I can..."

Megan stood stock still in the center of the living room. "What?"

Deborah Reeves spun around and faced the taller woman. Scrubbing her hand into her hair, she sighed then said, "I'm running off at the mouth and you have no clue. I wanted to get home about three hours ago but we got a break on one of my investigations, which of course entailed me crawling through an old crime scene." The curly hair woman gestured at herself. "After five minutes, this is what I looked like, and I am so sorry."

Megan was bewildered. "What's the problem? That's your job. I understand that."

Deborah appeared to square her shoulders. "Thanks, but-" Her smile was strained. "Do come in and make yourself at home. I'll be right back just as soon as I get cleaned up."

Forever after, Megan would never be able to identify the impulse that prodded her to say, "Deborah, it's all right. I'm not running. I'll be here when you get back."

The grimy woman nodded jerkily and turned away, heading toward a carpeted, wooden stairway. Megan assumed her bedroom was upstairs. As the slender hand rested on the brass banister, Megan continued clearly, "A little grime isn't gonna deter me and yes...I'm nervous too."

Had Megan not had so much invested in Deborah's response, she might have missed the tiny nod as her head dipped in acknowledgement. They were on the same page.

Above her head she heard the muted sound of water hitting tiles. Letting her imagination roam, she closed her eyes for a minute and saw Deborah peeling out of her dirty clothing.

"Down, girl. Food first, then desert."

Shaking her head to dislodge the images, the Australian woman wandered into the kitchen. As instructed she found the menus on the refrigerator door.

Telling herself she was detecting and her only other option would be to burst in on a naked Deborah Reeves in a steamy shower, Megan opened the fridge and in short order all the kitchen cupboards as she tried to decide what Deborah might like to eat.

Settling on Pasta Carbonara, Shrimp Scampi, Tiramisu and as a sop to dieting, a large Chef's salad, she realized the spray of water had stopped.

Megan walked up the stairs and stood at the top. Pitching her voice to be heard by the woman - the damp and naked woman, she thought lasciviously - in the bedroom, she asked, "Deborah, would you like a beer?"

The door opened and a hand wiggled in invitation. Grinning, Megan walked along the short hallway and placed the cold can in her hand.

"Thanks."

Megan heard the sound of the blow-dryer. With as much hair as Deborah had, it could be a while. A little disappointed that she hadn't seen anything risque, she settled on the couch to wait for the delivery from Antonino's.

As it turned out, she was wrong in her estimation. Deborah was padding downstairs less than five minutes later, clutching her can, dressed in a man's grey long sleeved shirt over a pair of denim shorts.

"I thought you'd be longer." Megan saluted Deborah's emergence.

"I could've been." Deborah placed her drink on the low coffee table. "Hair's not dry."

"I noticed; I like it."

Deborah sneaked Megan a smile even as she grumbled, "My hair goes from less curly to more curly. Those are my choices."

Megan pointed to her own glossy mane. "Forty five minutes."

The two women exchanged a shared smile of commiseration.

"Who'd you order from?"

"Antonino's."

"Shrimp Scampi?"

Teasing, Megan kept a straight face and replied, "Just garden salads, mate."

Deborah squeaked, "You ordered from Antonino's? And you only ordered garden salads? Where is my damn gun?"

Megan grinned as she took in the picture Deborah made standing in front of her, bare feet and all.

Hearing the chuckling, Deborah threatened, "Nope, a gun would be too quick. Do you know what the penalty is for ordering only a salad from Antonino's? Strangulation, now that's slower."

Megan's laughter pealed out. "Large, they were large garden salads."

Deborah's eyes narrowed and she moved with intent purpose towards her seated guest. It might have been deliberate but a scant moment later, she tripped and tumbled into Megan's lap, causing the other woman's chuckles to come to a stuttering halt.

The women froze awkwardly but they didn't move away from each other. Megan could feel the weight of Deborah's wet hair soaking through her skirt, totally different from the warmth of the rest of her. Megan's voice broke the silence as she said unsteadily, "Uh, yeah, this is bad, doesn't hold a patch on strangula-"

Deborah moved up easily and sealed her lips to Megan's, cutting off the flow of words.

Shifting back a tiny space after a very satisfactory kiss involving soft lips and an inviting tongue, Deborah teased, "Hmmm, a tough cookie. I'll have to pull out the toothpicks." With those words, Deborah wrapped her arms around Megan's neck and moved in for another lengthy kiss.

Long minutes later, Megan raised her head and whispered in an awestruck tone, "You're good. I hear bells when you kiss me."

"Bells?" Deborah response was slow in coming as she tried to make sense of the soft ringing. "Oh no, dinner. I'll get it."

"Drat! And here I thought you were ringing my bell?"

A slight smile played about her lips. "Only one bell? Sweetheart, I would hope when I'm done with you, you'll be hearing the whole orchestra."

Megan pinkened as she watched Deborah swagger to the door with some bills she had taken from a drawer. Megan was struck by a sudden thought. Standing on shaky legs, she moved in behind the other woman.

Concluding the transaction, Deborah turned around with a sunny smile. "Feels like more than salad to me," she said hefting the bag.

"I haven't heard an orchestra in a very long while. It's been over four years." Megan stated baldly.

Keeping her bright gaze on Megan, Deborah put the bag down on the floor. She studied the woman in front of her carefully, before finally settling into Megan's arms which opened to hold her. "It's been a while for me too. With my dad's death last year and before that, I was too busy after the academy trying to do the best job possible." Deborah cleared her throat. "What I'm trying to say is that, I would very much like to be the one to..."

"Yeah, me too."

The tiny distance between the women vanished as they exchanged a gentle kiss which segued into a long and not so gentle one. For all their avowed hunger, it was a couple of orchestras later when Deborah and Megan finally tore into the order from Antonino's.

The End.

**********

Aussie slang found at http://www.koalanet.com/australian-slang.html

Bail (somebody) up : to corner somebody physically

Have a naughty : have sex

Dill : an idiot

Feedback is appreciated!
Send comments to mlogick@hicom.net