Ryan nodded, but her entire body was shaking so hard that it was hard to tell what was nod and what was shake. Jamie looked up at Conor for the first time and saw how devastated he was. Summoning all of her composure, she took a deep breath and did her best to reassure the shaken man. "This happens all the time, Conor," she said soothingly. "I swear she'll be fine. Go in the forward cabin and change into some of my father's warm clothes," she commanded. "Then go get me the hot cocoa."
He obeyed her orders, but with a slight change. He ran up to get the cocoa first, handing the large mug to Jamie with shaking hands.
"Go change and then help Mia," Jamie repeated firmly.
"But…"
"Go," she said firmly. "I can undress her just fine. I've been getting lots of practice you know," she added, trying to draw a smile from the poor man.
"Okay," he said softly, gently patting his sister on the leg as he departed.
As he left, Jamie leaned over and asked, "How are you, really?"
"Gg-gotta g-g-get out of these c-c—clothes," she stuttered, unable to hold her chin still to speak clearly.
"I'll do it, Honey, drink some of this and then just try to relax." Jamie set about the normally fun task of undressing her partner that, in addition to not being fun, this time, was damned difficult. Ryan was often weak with desire, but this was much more extensive. She was barely able to help at all, and the soaked garments were so ungainly that Jamie gave a quick thought to cutting them off of her. The life jacket came off easily, as did the wool sweater. The turtleneck was a little tougher, and as soon as she got it off she tucked a blanket around Ryan's shaking shoulders, not having the patience to deal with her sports bra just yet. With persistence and patience she finally had the shoes, jeans, and socks off, and she could feel Ryan's body start to relax a bit as the ice cold clothes were removed. Taking a break, she wrapped the second blanket around shivering legs and gave in to her overwhelming need to wrap Ryan in a fierce hug. "God, you scared me," she whispered.
"I scared me too," she agreed, her voice sounding much more normal. "Do me a favor?"
"Anything," Jamie promised.
"Go tell Conor and Mia that I'm okay. I know he's worried."
"Okay, Honey. Be right back," she said with a wan smile.
"Jamie?"
"Yes, Honey?"
"I've heard the best thing for hypothermia is to snuggle with another warm body while you're both naked."
A fond smile greeted that suggestion. "You are feeling better," she said with a genuine grin.
They followed Ryan's suggestion, but their approach was a little more chaste than the purported life-saving prescription. Ryan had taken off her soaked undergarments while Jamie was topside. She had quickly snuggled back into the blankets after turning them to their dry sides, and when Jamie returned, she shucked her jacket and pants and climbed in with her.
It was an odd feeling, cuddling a stark-naked Ryan while in thermal underwear and a turtleneck, but Jamie quickly put aside her discomfort and snuggled closer, allowing her body heat to warm her partner.
"That was the oddest feeling," Ryan mumbled, her voice now completely normal, if a bit sleepy.
"It's happened to me several times," Jamie sympathized. "It's amazing how quickly you become helpless, isn't it?" she asked, knowing that the feeling would be very uncomfortable for her powerful lover.
"Yeah, I felt like I'd been given a big dose of Novocain right into my central nervous system. I couldn't feel my hands at all, and I couldn't pick my arms up to help you guys get me out."
"I know, Honey," she soothed. "It's okay now, Baby. Just close your eyes and feel safe for a little while. I've got you, Honey. Just relax." Her hands were slowly rubbing her partner through the blanket, comforting and relaxing her simultaneously.
"Can Mia handle the boat?" she asked, jerking awake abruptly.
"Yes, Honey, she's fine," she soothed. "The sails are down and we're just motoring slowly. We've got plenty of fuel, and the wind is behind us, so we'll be fine."
"Okay," she muttered wearily as she fell asleep in Jamie's protective embrace.
When Jamie woke up a short time later, she was immediately aware of the stillness of the boat. The engines were clearly off, and she hoped it was because Mia had turned them off. She got her answer a minute later when Conor stuck his head into the cabin.
"Everything okay?" she whispered.
"Fine. But Mia doesn't want to blow all the fuel, so she shut off the engines. She thinks it's safe to just drift for a while. Is that okay?"
"Yeah, but you should at least raise the jib in case you need to get out of trouble," she said. "I want Ryan to sleep as long as she can, so go ahead and have lunch if you're hungry."
"That was my second question," he grinned.
Moments after he departed, Ryan started to wake. "Mmm, this is nice," she mumbled as she snuggled a little tighter against her lover's body.
"You feel okay?" Jamie asked.
"Yeah," she replied as she stretched languidly. "I actually feel fine. I mean, I wasn't hurt or anything—just really cold."
"Well, you certainly feel warm now," Jamie whispered as she ran her hands up and down her partner's body through the blanket. "This is a terribly delicious feeling, you know."
"Our attire is a little discordant," Ryan agreed with a chuckle.
"I wouldn't change a thing," she breathed right into her ear.
"I would," Ryan complained as she tried to snake her hand under her partner's clothes only to be stopped by her all-encompassing union suit.
"Everything I need is readily available," she insisted as she turned Ryan onto her tummy and started to kiss her neck.
"N…no, Jamie," she muttered into the pillow. "Too much emotion."
Clambering up to cuddle behind her, Jamie asked, "Are you all right, Honey?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," she said. "Falling into the water freaked me out a bit. I don't feel like I'm in control."
And in that instant Jamie not only knew just what her lover meant, she agreed with her fully. "Let's just snuggle and try to get our equilibrium back, okay?"
Ryan nodded, and they spent the next 15 minutes nuzzling and kissing lightly. Things were just starting to escalate when they heard a terribly amused voice say, "Look who feels better!" Two heads jerked to attention to focus on the open door of the cabin. Mia stood with her arms folded across her chest, a wide grin plastered on her face. "Sorry girls, I just came down to check on you and use the head. I take it that moaning was not from pain?"
Her quick reflexes allowed her to dodge the pillow that her roommate tossed at her, but the laughter of the two women assured her that there were no hard feelings.
Luckily, Jim Evan's clothing was the perfect size to fit Ryan's large frame. She pulled on proper sailing gear, without complaint this time, even agreeing to the thin navy blue Polarfleece stocking cap that Jamie insisted she wear. She put it on in the same quirky style that Jamie had seen her adopt for other hats; rather than have the cap rest on the rear of her head, she pulled it straight down her forehead so that it rested an inch or so above her eyebrows. It was an odd affectation--and it would have looked stupid on Jamie--but Ryan pulled it off beautifully with her strongly planed face and square jaw line.
When they climbed up the few stairs to the deck, they both cleared their throats a few times to announce their presence. Conor tore his mouth from Mia's and gulped, blinking a few times to get his bearings. "How do you feel, Ryan?" he immediately asked.
"Just fine," she assured him. "No harm done."
"You scared me half to death!" he said emphatically, as he pulled away from Mia's embrace and went to wrap his sister in a hug. "I'm so sorry I did that to you," he whispered sincerely.
"It's okay, Con, really," she soothed as she gently patted his back. "Jamie says that happens all the time, even with really experienced crews."
"I've gone over three times," the smaller woman piped up.
"Just once for me," Mia adde
d. "The guys I was with were so drunk they almost couldn't turn the damn boat to come get me!"
"See?" Ryan asked as she pulled away to get a good look at his eyes. "It's not a big deal."
"Okay," he conceded, nodding briefly. "You're never going sailing in jeans again. If you hadn't grabbed that ring and weren't wearing your life vest you couldn't have tread water that long with those heavy pants on."
"But I did, and I was and you guys rescued me easily," she reminded him. "Let it go, Conor. It's really okay."
"Will you let me buy you sailing gear and call it even?" he asked, looking down at her with a sweet smile.
"Deal!" she happily agreed. "Hey, I'll jump over for a nice set of golf clubs!"
"Don't press your luck, Sis," he warned as he playfully thumped her on her cap-covered head.
Jamie sat on Ryan's lap as the dark haired woman lovingly fed her bites of a delicious turkey sandwich. They were steering the boat together using only the jib. Not trying to get anyplace in particular, and not caring how long it took them to get there, they were just enjoying the solitude of the now calm day. Their companions had gone below, ostensibly to use the head, but after fifteen minutes the girls assumed they were engaged in some sort of merger.
Much to their surprise, Conor's dark head popped out of the hatch, his face looking green around the edges.
"I don't feel so hot," he muttered, looking at them pathetically.
"Come up here and breath some fresh air," Jamie urged. He complied, climbing over the gear to sit right next to his sister.
"How could you stay down there so long?" he moaned, as he took several deep, cleansing breaths.
"Uhh, I hadn't just had lunch and," she leaned over to count the empties, "Three beers."
"This fresh air makes you thirsty," he argued.
"Yeah, but going below after a few beers makes you sick," she reminded him. "So you can either be thirsty or frustrated. Take your pick."
"Shoulda picked thirsty," he grumbled as his sister and Jamie burst out laughing.
When Mia returned to the group a few minutes later, they decided to hoist the mainsail and prepare to return. It was about two o'clock, but the wind wasn't terribly favorable, and Jamie predicted--accurately, as it turned out—it would take a while to get back; it took a full two hours to return to the marina. Conor offered to jump onto the dock to secure the boat, and they all had to stifle a laugh when it took him a moment to get his land legs. His stumbling gait only lasted a few steps, and he smoothly secured the big boat to Jamie's satisfaction.
It took much longer to put the boat to bed than it did to take it out, and by the time everything was perfectly ordered, it was after five. Mia still had a ton of things to do to get ready for her departure, so she declined their invitation to join them for dinner. Conor walked her to the door and stayed inside for several minutes, but he returned with Jamie's mail and a few phone messages, so he was forgiven.
Martin wasn't at home, so they were left to forage on their own. By the time the pizza arrived, they were all dozing on the big bed in Martin's room, Ryan across the bottom with Duffy curled up against her chest and Jamie and Conor in the traditional position.
Their lethargy was such that they barely finished a medium sized pizza. By nightfall, all three were snug in their separate beds, Duffy being the happiest of the group since he got his mistress all to himself.
Chapter Thirteen
Monday morning found them lounging around the dining room table, surveying their options for the week. Jamie was content to just lie around the house as long as Ryan was with her, but she knew that her lover needed a lot of stimulation to keep her interested. She was also learning that Ryan needed at least a general idea of her schedule, or she became a little anxious.
Rather than switch clients around too much, Ryan had decided to work at the gym from 3-6, her normal hours. Since Mia was leaving and Jamie no longer needed a formal session, Ryan had tinkered with her schedule to compress it into her preferred time period. The 15 hours of full-fare clients gave her an income that far surpassed anything she had ever dreamed of, and gave her the financial security to take two weeks off without worry.
The only downside was that her work prevented them from ranging very far afield during the week. Jamie would have preferred spending a few days up in Napa or Mendocino, but Ryan's financial autonomy obviously meant a lot to her, and she decided not to challenge her strict work ethic.
"Okay," Jamie said, as she stood to clear the breakfast dishes. "We've got to be back by one for you to get to work. It's almost eight so we have five hours to play with. Since you didn't run today, I assume you want to spend the morning doing something energetic?"
"I've got a few suggestions," Ryan said, obviously having thought this through earlier in the day. "I really enjoyed being at the Marina on Friday. Why don't we go back and do our workout there."
"Oh, like we did at the track that time?"
"Kinda," she said with a twinkle. "I think it's time you learned the rudiments of kickboxing little girl," she added as she pinched her partner rather hard on the butt.
Jamie looked up to the heavens for assistance. "Why do I get the feeling that I'm going to wind up bruised?"
A short while later they were warming up on the broad, grass-covered lawn that fronted the Marina. The day was bright and warm for May, and it seemed like every baby in town was out on the green with their mothers or their nannies. Ryan decided to teach Jamie the basics of the cardio-kick class that she used to teach at Castro. She had a small boom-box resting on the ground, along with some lightweight padded gloves and a big blue padded mitt.
They followed their usual warm-up routine, and then Ryan gave her some instruction on proper kicking technique. Jamie was now muscular enough to brace herself on one sturdy leg while kicking out forcefully with the other, a required element for kickboxing. She took to the instruction very well, kicking the padded mitt with some force, and after just 15 minutes Ryan pronounced her ready to begin.
She switched on the music and led the way, showing Jamie at half speed how to execute the series of kicks and jumps timed to the music. She added the punching moves that made the exercise a full-body workout, and then started the tape again.
This time they went through the moves at full speed, kicking, jumping and punching the air in a graceful series of moves--rather, Ryan was graceful, and Jamie just struggled to keep up. But when she led the way through the series again and again, Jamie started to catch on. By the time she fully understood and could follow the signals, however, she was so tired she could hardly move.
Her arms felt like she had ten-pound weights attached to them and her legs were heavy and slow. "God! You really had weights in your hands, but I'm the one who's pooped!" she cried when she surveyed Ryan's calm, even breathing.
"I've been doing this a lot longer than you have," Ryan reassured her.
"Oh please! That has nothing to do with it, and you know it, Buffy. You're just amazing, and I won't accept any other explanation!"
"Well," she drawled, "I guess I am rather remarkable." But she gave her partner such a goofy look when she made this statement that Jamie had to just laugh at her good-natured teasing. "And that reminds me," Ryan said. "What's with this 'Buffy' stuff? Is that like Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or Buffy like Buffy, and Muffy and those other rich girl names?"
"Neither, Silly," she laughed. "You don't look even a little bit like Sara Michelle Gellar, and you could never pull off the preppy rich kid thing."
"So…why do you call me that?"
"Because of these," Jamie said as she ran her hands down Ryan's arms, trailing her thumbs over the smooth dips and protrusions of muscle. "You're terribly buff, you know."
"Ahhh, Buffy," Ryan nodded, fairly satisfied with the name now that she knew its origin.
"Buffy, indeed," Jamie nodded in concert, leaning in for a sweet kiss. "But right now, I've gotta find a bathroom. Is there one around here?" she asked, looking around aimlessly
.
"Yeah, but it's pretty far," Ryan warned, indicating the building in the distance. "Want me to pack up and go with you?"
"No, I like this spot. Why don't you sit by that tree and take it easy. I can tell you're really beat. You're just hiding it well."
"Good idea," Ryan agreed. "You always know best."
She watched Jamie jog, admiring the way her firm little butt looked in her navy blue Lycra shorts. Deep in concentration she did not hear the footsteps that approached her from behind. "Police officer," the rather deep but decidedly female voice boomed. "Don't make any sudden moves…just keep your hands right where they are."
Ryan's heart started beating so fast she could actually feel it in her chest. She knew she had done nothing wrong, but the thought of having a police officer call her out was terribly alarming. "What's the problem, officer?" she asked, as calmly as possible.
"You answer the questions," the woman snapped. "I ask them." The rough tone and brusque treatment were not making Ryan feel one bit better. "Get on your knees and put your hands behind your back," she ordered.
Ryan had every intention of obeying the command, but she had a momentary flash of doubt that this really was a cop. "Let me see your badge," she said with more conviction than she really felt.
"Been in this situation a few times, huh, tough guy?" the officer growled. She produced a badge that she flashed right in front of Ryan's face. It certainly looked authentic, having the same general style as her father's Fire Department badge, but even though Ryan was reassured that she wasn't an imposter, she didn't feel a hell of a lot better with this confirmation.
She followed the officer's instructions to the letter, getting to her knees and docilely placing her hands behind her back. She had not heard handcuffs opened before, but she got a crash course in the distinctive sound when the cold steel was slapped first on one wrist and then the other. Ryan had been in many testy situations in her young life and had gone up against some very tough guys, but she had rarely felt as powerless as she did at that moment. The fact that she could not defend herself, either physically or verbally was combining to make her absolutely panic-stricken.
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