Chapter 1

Warm hands slid down Ingrid's sides, gripping at her waist, hips, and ass, and- crackers, she was going to put her photographic memory to work remembering this. This was addicting. This was exactly what she needed after the case she'd worked for the safety patrol that week. This- was actually happening in the Safety Patrol offices (after hours).

A moan escaped her lips, and she tangled her fingers in the long blonde curls, pulling Cheri up to meet her lips again, smearing her bubblegum lip gloss with Ingrid's darker preference until it was certain that both of them looked completely debauched. Then Ingrid grinned, spinning them around so that Cheri was pressed so far into Ingrid's desk she had no choice but to sit on top of it. Ingrid moved in, sliding her hands up Cheri's thighs as she went, relishing in the gasp she elicited.

Captain of the X High School cheerleaders and honorary Welcome Basket Bearer (four years later and she was still doing that), Ingrid hadn't exactly expected Cheri to be her type, until Cheri had cornered her in the supply closet of the Safety Patrollers' office at the end of their sophomore year after the annual Summer See-Off's crowning of Mr and Miss Summer Sensation was interrupted by an attempted attack. Fillmore and she had been tracking the perp for almost two weeks, and she'd spotted him just in time for a take-down before Cheri's flowery sun dress could be marred with red paint.

There had been an after-party happening in the Safety Patrol offices, since half the Patrollers had been forced to leave the real party early, but it was relatively quiet in the supply closet. Ingrid had just been going to grab some extra napkins from behind the printer ink, when Cheri had followed her in.

"I just wanted to thank you, for saving me back there," she said, voice almost low enough to classify as a whisper. All her usual school-spirit, pep-tastic attitude was stripped back, and she looked more real than Ingrid could ever remember seeing her.

Cheri had slinked forward a little, gaze flicking from Ingrid's eyes to her mouth and back. "Really, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't been there."

They were so close, mere inches apart, and Ingrid had to swallow around her suddenly dry mouth before she could say, "It's all in a day's work."

Cheri had hummed something, but neither of them had been paying much attention, both focusing on the quickly disappearing distance between them as Cheri continued to shuffle forward and Ingrid stood stock still. Cheri's hand come up to tangle in Ingrid's hair, thumbs brushing her cheeks, but it had been Ingrid who made the final surge forward, lips connecting frantically, desperately.

They hadn't seen each other over the summer, with Cheri off at cheer camp most of the time and those courses she and Fillmore had taken (forensics and criminology for her, self defense and weapons training for him), but once school was back in session, it'd become a thing. At first, it was just about the physical. They didn't talk much, but when they were alone they didn't need to.

It had become more than that, though, with time. It was already December, and whatever was happening between them had been happening for over four months. They'd slowly progressed to actual conversations and then occasional movies and even dinners. They honestly didn't have much in common interest-wise, but it was pleasant, being together. And, of course, they still had the other stuff.

Since that first encounter, they'd always held a place in their hearts for the Safety Patrol office's supply closet, but they'd branched out considerably (it was, honestly, a very small closet). Not only had they taken their nighttime activities out into the open of the Safety Patrol offices, but they'd even expanded to the cheerleaders' practice rooms, the bleachers in the gym, and pretty much behind any door in the school they could open between the two of them (which was quite a large variety).

Ingrid wasn't entirely clear on why they seemed to stick close to the school. At first, it had been all about discretion and, really, there hadn't been a discrete way to meet outside of school, seeing as they never spent any time together. Since, though, they'd established something of a friendship in the eyes of their respective circles, so it wouldn't be unseemly for them to appear in public together en route to some other closed door they could become extremely illicit behind. They may have hid the depths of their relationship, but they didn't have to hide everything.

Ingrid figured they were just more comfortable in the school, where they were both relatively certain that no one would stumble across them and where they spent all the rest of their time, anyway. Between cheerleading, news anchoring, student council-ing, and all the other things Cheri filled her time with, she basically lived at the school. And Ingrid was practically chained to her Safety Patrollers' desk (as was most of the force), and any time she got away from it seemed to go to Mathletes (Fillmore made mocked her mercilessly, but she knew he was secretly proud when their team kicked the other school's asses) or Old English Literature Club or any number of academic teams Principal Folsom (who had literally followed them to high school) had managed to bully her onto.

Basically, neither of them had lives. But, they were enjoying not having lives together fairly well. Ingrid was especially enjoying the way Cheri's hot breath gasped against her ear while her fingers gripped her shoulders almost hard enough to bruise.

In a few hours, they would leave, finally go home. Cheri would leave for a cheerleading competition early the next morning, and Ingrid would be back at school, training with the Mathletes unless some kid decided to pull something over the weekend, in which case she and Fillmore would almost surely be called in. She would sit at the desk Cheri was making obscene noises on top of and pretend like this had never happened. She wouldn't talk about it because they didn't talk about it, Cheri and her.

They also didn't talk about why they didn't talk about it.

It wasn't that Ingrid was worried that everyone in her life would suddenly turn their backs on her if she came out (although she had a sneaking suspicion that Cheri held such fears). Her family would always love her, and Fillmore and the other Safety Patrollers were like family to her, and it wasn't as if anyone thought Ingrid was normal to start with, but it would bedifferent and strange and uncomfortable. It was just so much easier if only the two of them knew, if they only had to deal with each other. Hence, no talking about it.

"Ingrid," Cheri groaned, and Ingrid had to momentarily stop what she was doing with her mouth to elicit such a noise because she couldn't hold in her smile.

She and Fillmore were called in the next day for a case, before Ingrid had even made her way through the softly falling snow for Mathletes practice.

"Dog, you're not going to believe this," Fillmore said, meeting up with her outside the Safety Patrol offices.

"What's up? They just told me to get here, A.S.A.P," Ingrid asked, pushing open the familiar door with half-numb hands. She got her answer when she looked inside, though, and saw Cheri sitting on the bench, handcuffed to the bench, and Ingrid could almost feel her breath of her neck from the night before. "Crackers.