Beginnings - SF2

by Susan X Meagher

  Jamie shot up, embarrassment evident on her flushed face. "Hi," she squeaked out.

  Ryan noticed the change in her mood and immediately sought to reassure her. "Have a seat, boys. The least you can do is buy your new sister-in-law a beer."

  Both men grinned in response and went to the bar to buy a round. When they returned each kissed Jamie on the cheek and toasted her with enthusiasm. "Welcome to the family," Brendan said, gracing her with the patented O'Flaherty high wattage smile. "I couldn't be happier for you both."

  Conor chimed in gallantly, "If I can't have you Ryan's the one I'd pick."

  "Thank you both," Jamie said, now very much at ease. "I'm sorry about earlier today, guys. We just had a terrible afternoon, but everything's fine now."

  "How's your head?" Brendan delicately asked.

  "Head?" she asked, rather confusedly. "Oh! My head! Well, enough of these little babies can obviously soothe a silly little bump," she said as she hoisted her glass.

  "Well, I'm glad you're okay," he said. "Da's worried about you both, you know. But I assume he'll figure we found you if we're gone long enough."

  "Call him," Jamie urged, handing Brendan her cell phone.

  He accepted the device and made the call, assuring Martin that all was well. "Okay, Da, I'll tell her," he said as he hung up. Handing the phone back to Jamie he announced, "Da says you're to stay over tonight. Rory's out of town on a gig and his room is being prepared even as we speak."

  "No argument from me," she said as she tried to stifle a yawn. "Last thing I need is a DUI. A $105 ticket is enough for one day."

  "What in the heck happened to you two?" Conor finally demanded, tired of being discreet.

  Ryan laughed at his usual directness. "We had a fight when we were down around Telegraph Hill this afternoon," she said, skimping on the details. "I got mad and pulled my usual."

  Both boys supplied, "You took off."

  "Yeah," she said with a blush. Turning to Jamie she related, "It's kind of a habit. Anyway, Jamie knew I didn't have any money so she tried to track me down. She thought I knew she was on my tail and when she finally caught me she grabbed me from behind. But I didn't know she was looking for me and when I felt a stranger grab me…" She let them imagine the end to the story.

  "God, Jamie," Conor said with wide eyes. "You're lucky she only tossed you against a wall. She could have easily broken your nose or your jaw. You should never, ever surprise her like that."

  "Now you tell me," she laughed. "I mean, I know she's trained in the martial arts…I guess it just didn't dawn on me."

  "It's not a joke," Brendan insisted. "She can hurt you badly before she even knows what she's doing. Years of training like she's had just don't go away."

  "I'll remember," she said with a smile as she grasped Ryan's hand. "I knew she was lethal with women," she teased. "I just didn't know it would be me."

  Ryan leaned over and kissed her gently. "I'm going to do my best to take myself off high alert status," she promised. "You're too precious to ever take a risk with."

  It was after midnight when they climbed the short hill to the O'Flaherty home. Brendan kissed the girls goodnight and continued on up the street to his own apartment just a few blocks away. When they entered the house Martin was already in bed but there was a note in the kitchen that welcomed Jamie and stated that Rory's room was ready for her. "Oh yeah, like you'll use it," Conor teased, regarding the 110 pound appendage that his sister had grown.

  "Oh yes she will," Ryan declared. "Da doesn't want us to sleep together so we won't."

  But Jamie had been remarkably quiet during this discussion and when Conor made eye contact with her he noticed that her conviction seemed quite a bit weaker than his sister's. "We'll see," he smirked as he gave each of them a kiss goodnight. "Have fun, lovebirds."

  Ryan shot him a glare as she escorted her partner downstairs to find some acceptable pajamas. She rooted through her drawers and chose the same outfit they had shared before. A t-shirt and flannel pants for herself and the matching flannel shirt for Jamie. Turning to hand the shirt to the suddenly quiet woman she was rather shocked to see her peeling off her sweater. Ryan didn't mind the display, in fact she welcomed it, but since it wasn't in character she assumed it was because of the drink. So she tossed her the shirt and scampered into the bath to change, hoping that Jamie would be decent when she returned.

  Her wish was granted and when she opened the door Jamie was lying across her bed--outside of the covers that had been neatly turned back. "Can I tuck you in?" she asked rather seductively.

  "Why don't you let me take you upstairs?"

  "Uh-uh," she demurred. "I don't want Conor to hear us."

  "Umm…how noisy is it to tuck someone in?" she asked weakly.

  "Wait and see," she purred as she patted the mattress. "Come on." She was crooking a finger to draw her tall friend close and Ryan gulped audibly when she saw the lustful look in her eyes.

  She tentatively approached and sat down on the edge of the bed rather gingerly. The alcohol was working very well at loosening Jamie's inhibitions but it did nothing to dull her reflexes. She lunged for Ryan and tumbled her onto the bed, kissing her with a wild fury.

  As the intensity of the encounter grew even stronger Ryan had an idea that she thought would take care of the situation even though not in the fashion she would prefer. So in a brilliant counter-attack she flipped her partner onto her side and spooned up against her back. "I want you to slide your hand down and touch yourself, Baby," she whispered, her words tickling Jamie's sensitive ear. "I'll be right upstairs, thinking of you, and wishing you were in my bed, touching me everywhere," she breathed, smiling to herself when she felt the goose bumps rise on Jamie's neck. "I love you, Jamie," she added, kissing her softly on the cheek.

  "I love you too, Ryan," she murmured, turning to kiss her on the lips. "I miss you already."

  Ryan quietly exited and walked to Rory's room, legs shaking so badly she could hardly stand. Holding up her left hand she smirked and informed it, "You've got your work cut out for you, Lefty."

  Not so early the next morning Ryan sauntered downstairs in her pajamas. Her father was busy making his traditional after-Mass breakfast and he greeted her warmly when she appeared in the doorway. "Good morning, Darlin'," he said. "Did you have a good rest?"

  "Just fine, Da," she agreed as she gave him a kiss. "Any word from Jamie?"

  "No, not a peep. Breakfast will be ready soon though. Would you like to go wake her?"

  "Sure. Do I have time for a shower?"

  "No, not if you want your breakfast hot. Get on with ya," he ordered.

  She obediently followed his command, walking downstairs and peeking in the door. As she paused in the doorway to watch her girlfriend sleep she reflected on the sweet-looking woman's recent behavior.

  She knew that discovering their lesbian identity was a very difficult thing for many women and she sensed that Jamie was still suffering a bit from her very recent breakup with Jack. Given that she had so little sexual experience, it also made sense that she would be unsure of her desires. Even so, it was a complete shock to have her deny Ryan's very existence like she had yesterday. Ryan, though glad to cut her a good deal of slack, was still a bit hurt from being denied so rudely. But regarding her young partner as she slept made her concerns seem very small and insignificant.

  When the sweet face was in repose, Ryan had the chance to study her in a way she wasn't often able to do. She smiled to herself as she gazed at the tousled hair, so childlike as it draped over her eyes. And the smooth planes of her completely unlined face made her look so innocent and young--much younger than her 21 years. It was her eyes that made her look her age. Those clear, sharp, perceptive eyes that sometimes seemed to gaze right into Ryan's soul. But when the eyes were concealed, the face could have belonged to a sixteen-year-old. A sixteen-year-old with a drop-dead gorgeous body, she smirked to herself. They didn't have sixteen-year-olds like that when I was in high school, she deci
ded regretfully.

  Walking over to the bed, she sat on the edge and softly brushed the golden blonde hair from her eyes. Seconds later the surprisingly awake green orbs blinked at her and gentled into a sweet smile. "Hi," she squeaked as she tossed her arms above her head and stretched like a happy cat. "Time to get up?"

  "Yeah, if you want a hot breakfast. Da's just about ready for us."

  "Okay," she agreed but Ryan placed a hand on her chest, stopping her progress abruptly.

  "Are we okay?" she asked quietly, trailing her fingers along Jamie's cheek.

  "We're fine, Ryan," she said firmly. Grasping her hand she kissed the curved fingers gently. She pulled the hand back a bit to gaze at it carefully. "Is this my competition?" she asked with a chuckle.

  Ryan gave her a slightly puzzled look but caught on quickly. "Nope, this is," she said, holding up her left hand. "Righty gets involved too but Lefty is indispensable." Raising an eyebrow she twitched her head in the direction of Jamie's hands. "How about you?"

  One hand shot up as she revealed, "Right hand only. And I'm guessing that yours has a lot more miles on it," she smirked.

  "Yeah," she mused, blowing on the fingers. "The odometer's about to turn over on mine. Yours got a workout last night though, didn't it?" she asked, trying to make sure there were no hard feelings.

  "Not much of one," Jamie said with a wry laugh. "I think I was finished by the time you hit the stairs!"

  Ryan smiled back at her and gently grasped her right hand. Bringing it close to her face she waved it back and forth in front of her nose a few times. "Smells delicious," she intoned with a sexy smile. "I can't wait to taste for myself." Leaning over she placed a gentle kiss on the shocked face and informed her, "Let's get moving. Breakfast calls!"

  Jamie stared after her, feeling unable to move as the thought of her lover tasting her flooded her brain. Paybacks are a bitch, she moaned as her feet hit the ground.

  Even though she knew her breakfast would get cold, she could not go upstairs in her abbreviated pajamas. She took a lightening quick shower and got back into yesterday's clothes, but in lieu of her own sweater she added one of Ryan's big tshirts, as much to smell her fragrance as anything else.

  Running upstairs, she was pleased to see that Brendan had joined the group. All of the men greeted her warmly but Martin got up and wrapped his arms around her for a lingering hug. "I'm so happy you've chosen my little one," he murmured into her ear. "I couldn't wish a better partner for her."

  She was shocked at this display of sentiment but very grateful. She was especially pleased by the way he had phrased it--as if she had done Ryan a favor just by choosing her. Blushing furiously she sat next to her lover at the table. Ryan informed her, "You've been officially given Conor's place at the table, Jamie. First change we've had in 17 years."

  Now her blush grew even more furious as she took in the four smiling faces gazing at her. "Thank you, Conor," she got out as Ryan leaned over to kiss her.

  "Oh, I like this arrangement much better," her tall lover commented with a wide grin. "Finally some kissing at breakfast!"

  After breakfast they cleaned the kitchen in a much more cursory way than dinner called for. The women went onto the deck to soak up the remarkably bright sunshine, accompanied by a very happy Duffy. The big dog had taken to Jamie more than they had ever seen him do with anyone else. He followed her around the house as though he were her dog, causing all of the men to compliment his good taste. As soon as Jamie chose a chair he tried to share the cushion with her, so today she anticipated his needs and chose the chaise lounge. Once she was settled she patted the cushion and Duffy hopped up, lovingly nuzzling against her thigh for long minutes. "He obviously doesn't acknowledge that you prefer women," Ryan scoffed as she smiled at his antics. Leaning over to pet him as she grabbed a chair she whispered, "I know just how you feel, Duff. I fell for her the first time I saw her too."

  "I'm going to become an ego-maniac if I hang out here too much," Jamie declared. "All I get are compliments!"

  "That's all you deserve," Ryan said, somewhat seriously.

  To deflect the focus from herself Jamie said, "I'd better put some sunblock on. Do you need any?"

  "Huh-uh," Ryan advised. "It's in my medicine cabinet."

  Jamie returned moments later, rubbing her SPF 15 in as she walked.

  "I guess your tan lets you stay out as long as you want, huh?"

  "I don't really have a tan," Ryan said. "And I do use sunblock. I usually put it on my face, neck and arms as soon as I get out of the shower. Then I don't have to worry about it all day."

  "But, you're very tan," she complained.

  "No, I'm not," Ryan insisted. "Check it out." She pulled her t-shirt up with one hand while the other pushed her flannel pants down past her hip. Although there was about one shade of color difference between her tummy and her hip, Jamie had to agree that the untanned skin was pretty darned tan.

  "But…I just assumed that because you're outside so much…"

  "Nope. I'm just dark-skinned. All of us are except Rory. He got my mothers' coloring."

  "But I thought the Irish were fair-skinned," she insisted.

  "Most are. But the O'Flaherty's are what they sometimes call 'Black Irish'. I'm not sure if it's a compliment or not though. It's not much of a thing now but people used to look down a bit on the darker-skinned people. They used to say that they weren't pure Irish. I'd always heard that the coloring came from the sailors in the Spanish armada that came to Ireland in the 1400's. But I read an interesting web site not long ago that says that couldn't have happened. So I don't know where it comes from but I like it."

  "I like it too," Jamie agreed enthusiastically. "Especially for California. Again, I believe it's part of your super-evolved genes. Your family moved to a sunny climate and your skin immediately adapted."

  "Good theory, but it doesn't explain why my great grandfather was known as 'Black Jack O'Flaherty, the Terror of Tralee'." This last was said with one raised eyebrow and a rakish grin on the dark face.

  "The 'Terror of Tralee'! What was he, the czar or something?"

  Ryan laughed and replied, "No, just a local bare-knuckle fighter who packed a wallop."

  "Wow! Do you know a lot about your family in Ireland?"

  "Some," she agreed. "I only go back to Black Jack's father on my father's side, but I know of five generations on my mother's side all from the same tiny town. They were as far from nomads as you can get!"

  "What do you know about this Black Jack character?" Jamie asked, obviously very interested.

  "Not a lot. Only that his reputation was so fierce it filtered down to my father's generation. They didn't go to Tralee much but when they did people cut a wide swath to avoid offending any of the boys."

  "Wow, that is a fierce reputation. Was he a professional?"

  "Of sorts," she admitted. "It certainly wasn't like it is here with governing bodies who watched over boxing but it was how he made his living—such as it was."

  "So…he wasn't successful?"

  "Oh, he was very successful at boxing. But much of every purse went straight to his liver. I assume he also used his skills on his wife and children, too. Not a nice man, from all reports," she said soberly.

  "God, that sounds horrible," she cried.

  "Ahh, different time, different culture. The Church and the husband ruled with an iron fist. I doubt that their lives were much different from many in their town," she said with a resigned shrug of her broad shoulders.

  "But that's so sad," Jamie insisted. "To drink and abuse your family."

  "Sure it's sad," she agreed. "I'm just saying that it wasn't uncommon."

  Her face had grown even darker and Jamie sensed that she was finished with the discussion for the moment. To move to lighter topics she asked, "Your skin does get darker in the summer doesn't it? I seem to remember my first thought of you being how white your teeth looked against your tanned face."

  "Yeah, it does," she admitted. "I use
block every day but I'm outside so much that I darken up in the summer. I almost got the lead in 'West Side Story' because of my skin color," she said with a laugh.

  "No!"

  "Yep. My senior year the drama department was casting for Maria. My music teacher begged me and begged me and I finally agreed to audition. We had a decent number of Latina's but none of the women who could sing wanted to do the play. The drama teacher loved my audition and I probably would have done it but word was out about my lesbianism and the principal not so tactfully suggested that they should go with another girl."

  "They wouldn't let you be in the play because you were a lesbian?" she cried loud enough to wake Duffy and cause him to start licking her face.

  "Umm, not just because I was but it was a factor. There was a lot of controversy about me and a lot of the girls were uncomfortable with me and I think she just thought it was easier to avoid the mess."

  "Easier for her!" Jamie cried, outraged at the cruel way her lover had been treated.

  "I didn't care that much," Ryan lied. "And just after that things started to go down that made that little slight seem like a day at the beach." Now her face had become a dark mask and Jamie scolded herself for her unerring ability to find a topic that would depress her lover.

  "Well, you would have been fabulous!" she said forcefully. "And I bet you still know some of the songs, don't you?"

  "A few," Ryan replied with a smirk. "I'll serenade you some night."

  "Some night soon," she soothed as she wrapped her arms around Ryan's neck and pulled her over almost into the chaise. "When we're in bed, just after we've made love. I want to see you all sweaty with a satisfied grin on that beautiful face, singing to me as we fall asleep." The luminous grin and dancing eyes that greeted this wish made her reassess her ability to improve her lover's mood. Not bad, she smirked. Not bad at all.