MAUREEN

I wasn't all that surprised when I heard the tentative little knock on the door. For one thing, I didn't really credit her with the guts to walk out like that; I knew she'd be back, with her timid little apologies I didn't want to hear, her downcast look that was just going to make me want to hit her. For another thing, her wallet, her car keys, and a few other random things were all scattered in a semicircle around the place where she'd dropped her purse.

Too bad. I'd had such a good closing line. Now she was going to ruin it all.

"It's open," I called, without turning. While she'd been gone I'd gotten dressed, knowing she'd be back. Plain bluejeans. Plainer white T-shirt. Somehow, this didn't seem the moment for knockout sexy clothing.

"Maureen?" her voice came through the door. Shit, what was she waiting for?

I marched over to the door, swung it open. "It was open," I told her. She glanced at me for a moment, then looked away.

"Um. Right. I…"

"Your stuff. Right." I grabbed the wallet and keys off the floor, handed them to her, then shoved the rest into a pile and scooped it off the floor as well. "That all?"

"I… well…"

"Oh, for Christ's sake, Joanne, let me make this easy for you, all right? You're sorry. Fine. Can we still be friends? Maybe in about ten years. Have a nice day? You too."

"No, wait, Maureen," she said, and something in her tone made me look up. Her eyes were pleading, which was the last thing I wanted to see. Despite the crack I'd made, I'm not much enamored of puppy-dogs. "I just…" And now she reminded me of a fish, mouth opening and closing silently. She was irritating the living shit out of me.

"You just what?" I was pushing her hard now. I wanted her out the door.

"Nothing. Forget about it." She closed the door.

Ten seconds later I swung it open again. She was still standing there, hand poised to knock.

I rolled my eyes. "You're not going to give up till I let you in, are you? Fine. Come in." I pulled the door open roughly enough that it hit the wall, pointed at a butterfly chair in the corner. "There. Sit."

She came in but chose a loveseat on the opposite side of the room, one she could descend into with a little more grace. "All right if I sit here?"

"Whatever. You're already sitting." She looked down at her lap. That was a terrible skirt. "So what is it?"

"I guess… not that much you didn't already say," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I figured."

"I was way out of line."

"Yep."

"And I…"

"Yeah, you're sorry. Want to go around in the circle again?"

She glanced up at me, a small spark beginning to kindle in her eyes. "You're not making this very easy."

"Yeah, well, you just accused me of fucking dogs, Joanne. What did you expect?" Giving up, I kicked back in the butterfly chair myself. I saw her eyes dodge away from my splayed legs. I was damned if I was going to squirm into a more sedate position for her sake.

"I was upset. And confused." Now she was looking so miserable that it was starting to get to me. Damn it all.

"Yeah, I know. You're not a lesbian, right? You've told me."

She rolled her eyes and gave a little bitter laugh. "I think I'm past that."

"What, you converted in the last twenty minutes?"

"No, I fell for you a month ago and now I'm finally admitting it, all right?"

I dared a quick glance up at her. She looked like she meant it.

"It's really – really strange, Maureen, trying to figure all this out," she said, sounding desperate. "And I – believe me, I didn't come in here with the intention of saying all this but –"

"Well, don't stop now," I said. "Please. We're just getting to the good part." I hated myself for sounding so bitchy. But I would have hated myself more if I'd sounded serious.

"Oh, will you just let me get through this?" she said, eyes blazing. "It's hard enough as it is. I don't know what it is about you that – that gets to me so much, because I think some of my concerns this morning were valid, all right? We're totally different people and I don't really see how we could ever work together –"

"Yeah, especially with that thing I have for dogs and all."

"Will you let it go? I'm so sorry I said that, I really am."

"No, it's too good to let go. What a fun image. Do you picture me with a male dog or a female one?"

"Whatever, Maureen! I'm trying to tell you that – oh, shit." She looked back down again. Oh, Jesus Christ, she was not going to start crying on me.

Then again, maybe she was.

"Hey." I got up, went across the room to her, sat down next to her. Slipped an arm around her gingerly. She didn't respond much. "Look, I'm sorry. I just don't know what to say either, you know?"

"No, I know."

"Because I like you a lot, Joanne, but I don't think I can take this either. Forget about the dog comment, but I really don't think I could be with someone who thought I was a whore."

She looked up at me, eyes rimmed with red, and swallowed. "I don't think that."

"Yeah? Then why did you walk out this morning?"

"I told you, I was totally confused –"

"And you couldn't handle that I'd been with 'twenty women and fifty men', right?" She winced. "By the way, it wasn't that many," I added.

"Oh?"

"No. I was counting it up. I don't think I remembered everybody, but I've only got eleven women and twenty-four men on the list."

She laughed. It was a weird, raw sound, but she did laugh. "You've still got me beat, Maureen."

"Oh. Yeah. You've really only been with two men?"

The look she gave me said clearly that she wasn't about to apologize for that. "Yeah. Brian Bowman, I told you about him, four years ago. And Robert Jordan, the guy who broke up with me just before I met you. I'm pretty sure I'm not forgetting anyone," she added, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Jesus. It never bothered you?"

"Honestly? No. Because I was really never that wild about sex with either of them anyway. With Brian, I mean, it just hurt like hell at first, and even after awhile it was just something I had to put up with. Robert was a little better, but it just didn't do anything for me."

"I thought you said you enjoyed it."

"Yeah, well, I said a lot of things."

I giggled. Somehow my hand had wound up stroking her hair, which was disheveled and puffy with rainwater. "So, basically, you're a dyke."

"Oh, Jesus, do you have to use that word?"

"Well, which word do you want? Lesbian sounds like some sort of a vaginal fungus."

"Oh, God." She laughed. "Yeah. I guess I am."

"A lesbian?"

"A dyke."

"Nice." I patted her shoulder.

"Are you still mad at me?" she asked in a second.

"Not really. I probably should be."

"Probably."

"You're kind of too pathetic to be mad at though."

"Oh, thanks." She stuck her tongue out at me. I was pissed that it turned me on.

"Don't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's sexy, and I think it's better if we don't rush into this all over again, okay?"

In response, she stuck her tongue out again.

"Oh, cut it out." I stuck my tongue back out at her. She wiggled hers at me. "Stop it!" She laughed. Leaned in closer. "Seriously, Joanne –"

Well, clearly the only way she was going to cut it out was going to be if I kissed her, so that was what I did.

We were both panting when we broke apart. Wide-eyed. "You taste like licorice," she said in a moment.

"What?"

"Were you eating licorice?"

"Oh – yeah, while you were gone," I said, distracted. That shirt of mine left absolutely nothing to the imagination. Of course, her tits were a little bigger than mine.

"I was out there crying my eyes out, and you were eating licorice?"

"You should try it, you can't be upset when you're eating candy."

"I wish I had your coping strategies."

"Whatever," I said, and found myself kissing her again. I was the one who pulled it apart this time.

"Damn it, Joanne, I'm not going to do this!" I made myself get up. Shit, that part was hard.

"Why?" she asked, standing up too, her hands on her hips.

"Because we need to take some time! I'm not rushing back into this!"

"Since when have you ever been an advocate of taking things slowly?"

"Since –" Since I'd showed signs of falling for her way too hard. This wasn't just about sex anymore. And that made me nervous. "Why do I have to do this?" I demanded. "Aren't you the one who's supposed to be keeping this from going too fast?"

"Oops," she said, and caught me in one quick pounce. I fell over on the bed. "Damn it, Joanne –"

"What?" she murmured, lips on my neck. She'd found that one spot just above my collarbone that damn near drove me crazy; how had she figured that out so quickly?

"You – oh, Jesus. Forget about it." I crushed her lips against mine. She moaned, a little high-pitched sound that about drove me out of my mind. "Just a second –" she panted, struggling with the T-shirt. We'd have had to break the kiss to get it off her. I grabbed the back of the neckline, tore it down the back. It had always been flimsy material.

"Maureen," she panted, as my hands found her breasts and she worked away at the button on my jeans. "Maureen –"

"Shut up," I said, and pushed her down on the bed backwards. I was afraid she was going to start talking, and that was going to spoil everything. For the moment, we'd slipped back into all-about-sex. And that was all that I wanted just now.

But something went wrong afterwards, in the stillness and silence punctuated only by soft breathing, the slow ritardando of my heartbeat and of hers. "You're sweet," she murmured eventually, kissing my neck near my ear.

"Am I?" I whispered. "Most people wouldn't call me that."

"Well, maybe most people don't see you like this."

"Mmmmm." Something about the feel of her pressed up close against me, her head resting gently on my bare shoulder, was making me think strange things. I was acquiring a suspicious case of the warm fuzzies, I thought, with some annoyance, as I looked down at her, the soft curve of her cheek, the smooth arch of her brows over closed eyes. I wanted her to open her eyes again, wanted to learn that rich dark brown shade a little more thoroughly, so I said her name.

"Joanne."

"Hmmm?" she said, opening her eyes. Mission accomplished. But I was still talking.

"Look, I know –" I wasn't quite sure how to finish that. I had no idea why I'd begun it.

"What is it?" she said, sitting up a little. I pushed her back down, making her rest her head on my shoulder again.

"Okay, you were right. I know we're different," I said, making sure to keep my voice level, trying not to spoil the mood. "I play the field a lot, you're right. I like to keep things…variable. It's more fun that way. But… every now and then someone a little different comes along, and –"

"Mmmm?" The brown of her eyes seemed to deepen a little more.

"Every now and then someone comes along that I want to hang onto for awhile," I heard myself say.

"So what are you saying?" she asked, voice low.

"So… want to go out to dinner tonight?"

She smiled, that slow, seductive smile, as sensual as a dollop of whipped cream. "Sure," she whispered, and reached up to kiss me again.

Later, when things had quieted again, I felt a soft little whisper of breath on my ear. "Maureen?"

"Yeah," I said, eyes still closed. Her fingers were playing gently with one of my nipples. I wasn't interested in conversation.

"I'm not sure how this all happened…"

I groaned. "Not this again."

"No, I just wanted to tell you –"

"What?"

"I really don't care. I'm here."

I opened my eyes, smiled down at her. "That's what I wanted to hear."

We rested that way for a long time, not quite asleep but hovering on the edge, lulled into shared dreams by shared warmth and a shared heartbeat.