Desert
Sheriff
By
Disclaimer I: This is an uber-Babylon 5 story featuring Talia
Winters and Susan Ivanova.
Disclaimer II: I do not own the characters upon which this story
is loosely based, nor will I have profited in any way, except in my dreams.
Disclaimer III: Any
errors in punctuation, grammar, or plot are strictly my own. They most likely occurred against the advice
of my beta reader.
The MOST important
disclaimer: This story is rated NC-17 for graphic sex
(stop cheering) and because, as my beta reader very delicately put it, “it’s a
little kinkier than I expected.”
Thank you to my incredibly patient and kind beta reader, Lisa. If you’d seen this story before she went
through it, you’d thank her too.
Feedback is always welcome.
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Part I
The sleek black Jaguar
shot down the road through the desert in the shimmering haze like a mirage on
fast forward. The cop, sitting behind an
old billboard that had long ago faded beyond reading, might have been convinced
she imagined the bullet-like vehicle if it weren’t for the fact she could still
see it, already a tiny dot disappearing into the distance.
Sighing, and swiping a hand across a sweaty forehead and
through long, thick, dark waves of hair the officer started the engine of the
patrol car, cursing under her breath.
Looking behind her, in the unlikely event that another car might
actually be going down this forgotten piece of highway, she swung the car out
onto the road and floored it. Hitting
the sirens and flashers, she screamed down the highway in pursuit of the now
completely vanished automobile.
The police car was
several years old, beat up, the upholstery just starting to tear. The officer
had repeatedly complained about the air conditioner bailing out at the most
inopportune times, like today with the temperature well over 100. All this was compensated for by an extremely
powerful, V-8 engine that lurked beneath the dusty and dented hood. In a matter of moments, the officer had
caught up to the expensive car and was on its tail, waiting impatiently for the
unconscious driver to realize he’d been caught.
The Jag lurched slightly as the brake lights suddenly
came on and the officer swore once again as she was forced to slam on her own
brakes. She had, in her annoyance, gotten much too close to the vehicle she was
pursuing.
The dark car slowed enough to pull off to the side of the
road and the officer followed suit. As
the Jag hit the side of the road at a still fairly high rate of speed, a cloud
of thick, gritty dust flew up and covered the police car completely.
Since the air conditioner was on the fritz again today,
the windows to the car were all open.
The dust quickly filled the interior of the car and the driver started
choking as the dust coated her lungs and completely obscured her vision. Her swearing went up several notches.
Slamming on her brakes with all her might, she fishtailed
to a stop so quickly that her engine died.
That or the dust had choked the engine to death. The now dusty officer sat there in silence
listening to the ticks of her engine and waited for the dust to settle. She decided if the driver was stupid enough
to take off again that she’d just shoot the little bastard.
As the dust came to rest, she looked out her dirty
windshield and saw the black vehicle sitting by the road about fifty yards
ahead of her. She was annoyed to see
that except for a little dust at the back of the car it was still almost
spotless. She knew damn well that the
air conditioner probably worked too.
She looked up at the sky for just a moment as though to
ask a question and then rested her head briefly on the dirty steering wheel.
She stepped out of the car, pausing to straighten her
uniform, and shaking some of the dirt off of her. She took long strides up to the offending
vehicle, checking to make sure her gun was secure in her holster. She hadn’t yet discounted the idea of just
shooting the dirtbag.
A striking woman in uniform, in spite of the dust,
Officer Susan Ivanova, was five foot ten with long dark hair and piercing blue
eyes that could strike you dead in an instant if she so desired. The sole officer in a two hundred mile
radius, she took her job seriously. She was prepared to nail any asshole that
thought he could disregard the safety of others in her jurisdiction.
As she came parallel with the window, she unhooked the
strap of her holster. The tinted windows
made it virtually impossible to see the perpetrator inside the car. Even outside the big city you had to be
careful about who you pulled over. Using
the hand that was not on her gun, she rapped sharply on the window and spoke.
“Roll your window down, now.”
There was a moment of silence. Then with a quiet purr,
the electric window slid down in the stillness of the desert. A wave of cool air wafted out of the car and
made Ivanova suck in a dry, desperate breath.
Striking blue eyes met gray and there was a pause as both participants
took in the fact that the other was a woman.
The woman inside the sexy black car looked as expensive
as the car she drove. Ivanova’s first
thought, uncharacteristically whimsical though it was, was to wonder if the
blast of cold air had come from the car’s air conditioner or from its occupant. Classical features, high cheekbones, and full
red lips were surrounded by blonde hair, cut in a style that probably cost more
than Ivanova’s monthly paycheck.
Expensive black leather gloves hid the woman’s hands that rested
comfortably on the matching black leather steering wheel
The voice that emanated from the car was just as icy.
“Yes, Officer? Is
there a problem?” the low throaty voice asked.
Ivanova didn’t speak for a few seconds, nonplussed by the
opening comment.
“A problem?” She finally responded with incredulity.
The blonde in the car merely raised an eyebrow at the
tone.
“I would call going down the highway at over a hundred
miles per hour in a seventy mile zone a problem,” was her answer.
“I see,” drawled the blonde as she continued to lock eyes
with the outraged officer.
She broke contact briefly and allowed her eyes to wander
down the dusty yet very interesting form of the police officer.
Susan blushed under the scrutiny, imagining what this
rich bitch thought of her ill fitting, filthy, unfeminine uniform. She opened her mouth to let the woman have it
but was preempted.
“I’m terribly sorry, Officer. I had no idea I was going so fast. I know I was speeding but since there wasn’t
anything out here but me, I really didn’t think it was all that important,” she
explained attempting to put some note of contriteness in her voice.
Apparently the attempt was lost on the officer, as she
just became more incensed.
“Not important?
You think that’s how the law works, lady? That you just decide what laws are relevant
to you and to hell with the rest of us and our safety?” Her voice was
definitely rising.
The woman in the car wasn’t used to being spoken to in
that tone. A slight flush rose across her cool features.
“I said I was sorry, officer. Look, just give me the ticket and I’ll get
out of your hair, alright?” She was getting seriously annoyed herself but
didn’t want to give the officer the satisfaction of knowing it.
“Damn right I’m giving you a ticket. Give me your driver’s license, proof of
insurance, and the registration to your car.
People like you are a menace and shouldn’t be allowed on the road.” This
last bit was muttered under her breath but still clearly audible to the blonde.
The blonde bristled visibly and a stubborn look crossed
her face. “You mean please, don’t you, officer?” asked the blonde pointedly.
“Please what?” replied Ivanova, truly perplexed by the
question and just wanting to get away from this woman.
“I’m sure you meant to say ‘please, give me your driver’s
license’ etc.” she corrected the officer in a tone that reminded Susan of
getting a lesson in manners from her mother when she was a child.
Her eyes narrowed and she drew herself up to her full
height, as she answered, “No.”
Drawing this single syllable word out very slowly, “What
I meant to say was, give me your damn ID this minute or I’ll haul your sorry
ass down to jail.”
Even as she said these words a tiny, little voice in the
back of her head whispered that she had been out in the heat way too long, and
probably needed a serious vacation. She shut the voice up. It was too late and she be damned if she’d
back off in front of this Ice Queen.
Instead, she took a menacing step forward towards the car
and the irritating blonde inside it.
Unfortunately, at that same moment the furious driver foolishly decided
to step out of the car to confront this incredible boor up close and
personal. The heavy black door hit
Ivanova dead center in the stomach, causing the air to whoosh loudly out of her
as she bent almost double from the inadvertent contact.
The blonde gasped in dismay and pulled the door back
towards herself in a belated attempt to take back what she had just done. The officer remained bent over, gasping
futilely for some air. Concerned for the
officer, the driver once again hastily swung the door open to step out of the
car.
The gods were not smiling upon either of them that day as
once again the officer moved forward, this time in an attempt to breath and to
maintain her equilibrium. The last thing
she wanted to do was fall over on the ground in front of this woman. As she moved forward, still bent over, the
door connected with the side of her head.
She hit the ground in a puff of dirt.
The driver sat there staring down at the prostrate figure
and tried to understand what just happened.
She looked down at the uniformed figure, an officer of the law laid low
by her with two quick, easy blows.
In that moment she did something she’d never imagined
she’d do, under any circumstance. She
ran. She panicked. She completely and utterly panicked. She slammed the door shut a final time, put
the car in gear and roared away in a cloud of dust, leaving the female officer
by the side of the road.
Driving faster than when the officer first caught her,
the woman’s thoughts flew through her mind in a frightened jumble. What had she done? What was she doing?
It took only minutes for her to realize that she had just
left a human being, a person that she had injured, lying helplessly on the
ground in the scorching heat of the day.
Coming to her senses she knew that anything she had to face was better
than living with the idea of having left the officer there to fend for herself. She quickly began to brake again and fumbled
for her cell phone.
As she slowed, she looked into the rear view mirror and
saw the flashing lights of the same police vehicle behind her. Breathing a sigh of relief that the woman
must be all right, she obligingly pulled over to the side of the road once more
and turned off the engine.
Wisely she chose to stay inside the car.
She didn’t even see the officer get out of the police
vehicle. She was just there, ripping the
door open like it was a cotton ball and then there was a hard hand on her
shoulder, pulling her out of the car.
“Out of the car. Now.” The voice was raw with anger and
pain.
Before she had a chance to see the woman’s face her legs
were kicked apart, and she was forced to lean forward on her hands, only the
black leather gloves saving her metal of the hood. Before she could even
register what was happening, impersonal hands swept down her elegant form in a
thorough, businesslike pat down.
“Officer, please,” she pleaded.
“Shut up,” replied Ivanova.
“Are you all right?” she asked softly.
“I told you to shut up,” she growled, biting off every
syllable.
The woman decided that it was best to do as she was
advised, to give the officer time to cool off.
“You’re under arrest for speeding, assaulting an officer,
resisting arrest, and leaving the scene of a crime. Oh yeah, and failure to drive with a seatbelt
too. You have the right to,” she began.
“What?” exclaimed the blonde, horrified at the litany of
charges.
“You don’t listen very well, do you? Shut up, because I’m about to read you your
rights, and then you’re going to jail.” Ivanova explained clearly and slowly.
“But,” any protest she was about to form died on her
lips. She felt, for the first time in
her life, the cold hard iron surrounding her wrists just above the black
leather gloves she still wore. The
desert air resounded with the sharp metallic click as they closed and locked.
She barely heard her rights. The echoingly final sound of
handcuffs taking away her freedom rang loudly in her ears. She quickly found herself being led to the
dusty, hot patrol car.
She was able to see the officer’s face for the first time
since she had been pulled over again.
She bit back a cry of dismay as she viewed the bruise and welt that were
already rising on the officer’s face.
Her shoulders slumped and she was silent.
She sat alone in the car as the officer went back to the
Jag, leaned inside to get something, and then proceeded to lock up the
vehicle. She saw the flash of car keys
in the officer’s hands right before they were dumped into her purse, the other
object the officer had retrieved from the car.
When Ivanova got to the police car, she threw the purse down onto the
passenger’s front seat.
The dry Arizona heat was all that filled the car during
the silent ride back into town. Susan occasionally touched the bruise on the
side of her face and then glared into the rearview mirror at her captive. The
prisoner stared out the side window, stoically refusing to look back, even
though she could feel the burn of the gaze directed her way.
Reaching the edge of the little town, the blonde looked
around with little interest. She barely
remembered going through it the first time.
Whether she was simply going too fast to notice or that the dying town
offered little of interest was difficult to ascertain.
The road, aptly named Main Street, was the one and only
thoroughfare in the small town of Sinclair. A few buildings were set off the
main drag on even fewer side streets, all of them looking their age in the
scorching heat. Not a soul stirred
anywhere.
Pulling up to a building that didn’t look much different
from the others, maybe a bit cleaner, the police car came to an abrupt halt,
causing the prisoner whose hands were still behind her back to lunge forward,
almost falling off of the seat. The
officer smirked while the blonde glared.
Ivanova grabbed the purse off of the front seat, came
around the side of the car, and opened the back door. Grasping her prisoner by the bicep, she
dragged her out of the car none too delicately.
The blonde refused to protest at the rough treatment. She’d decided on the way in that it was best
to keep her mouth shut and just see how things progressed. Maybe, once the officer cooled down enough,
they could have a reasonable discussion about the whole thing.
The neatly printed sign on the door clearly marked the
office as belonging to the Sheriff.
Ivanova pulled the prisoner back, momentarily out of harm’s way, and
roughly swung the door towards her, the swift rush of air breezing past her
face as the door slipped by with centimeters to spare. She propelled the
prisoner in with only a little force as she slammed the door behind them.
Thankfully, the blonde could feel the cool air inside the
room, not as cool as her Jag but it was tolerable. A young man sat behind the desk peering at a
computer screen until he heard the door slam.
Looking up and seeing that the Sheriff was not alone, his eyes grew
wide.
“Sheriff?” he greeted his supervisor with a questioning
word.
“Corey,” was the flat answer he received.
Finally looking past the beautiful blonde that
accompanied the Sheriff, Corey registered the damage done to his bosses’
visage.
“Sheriff! What
happened to you? You OK?” he rose from
his seat abruptly, almost knocking the chair over in his rush.
“I’m fine, Corey.
Relax,” growled the Sheriff, hating to be the center of such concern.
Corey quickly backed off.
Pissing off the Sheriff topped the list of “100 stupid things you
wouldn’t want to do.”
“That’s good. Who’s this?” he hadn’t yet noticed the
cuffs on the good-looking woman.
Ivanova started to open her mouth and then closed it
again, “Good question. I have no
idea. Let’s find out.”
Unceremoniously she opened up the purse and dumped its
contents onto the counter that separated the clerk from the other two occupants
of the room. The blonde winced as several items rolled away, some of them off
the counter and onto the floor.
A flippant “Oops” was the Sheriff’s response.
An expensive looking wallet made of black leather clunked
out of the purse with a loud thud. The
Sheriff beckoned Corey to come closer, wanting a witness to her rummaging.
The first thing they both noticed was the thick wad of
bills, all very large denominations, that made up the bulk of the wallet. Eyebrows rose on both their faces as they
looked at the money and then at the owner. The expression on the blonde’s face
didn’t change.
Moving on to the credit card section of the wallet, the
Sheriff spotted a driver’s license in the front plastic holder. A New York license with an unsmiling
replication of the woman standing before them stared up at her.
“Talia Winters,” Susan read carefully, the words rolling
off her tongue nicely.
Talia flinched slightly before returning to her previous
look of imperviousness.
“Well, Ms Winters, you certainly are a long ways from
home. And you seem to be carrying a
rather large amount of money. Care to
share with us what you’re doing out here in our part of the country?”
The Sheriff was naturally suspicious since the town of
Sinclair was very near the Mexican border. Drugs and illegal immigrants
comprised the biggest problems in that region.
“No,” was the simple answer.
The glare that Ivanova delivered was fierce enough to
make Corey step back, although he wasn’t the target. He didn’t know the lady but he wished he
could have a moment alone with her to explain the Sheriff to her. Ok, to warn her about the Sheriff anyway.
Thin ice in the middle of August in Arizona had magically appeared beneath the
ignorant blonde’s feet.
“No?” ground out Ivanova.
Talia didn’t appear to be phased in the least, “No,” was
the final answer.
Corey’s look of admiration was quickly quashed when the
Sheriff’s glare targeted him instead.
Another step back was called for and quickly produced. The Sheriff swung her gaze back at the
stubborn woman and the two stared at one another for long moments. Talia Winters
continued to display no emotion whatsoever.
Susan was beyond annoyed.
Abruptly she slapped her hand on the counter with a loud
smack and said, “Suit your self.”
A small tic in one eye was Talia’s only reaction to the
sudden sound. Corey was pretty much back
at his desk again, behind his chair really.
“Let’s book her, Corey.”
She read the list of charges to him and his eyes grew
larger with each one.
At the end he asked in a timid voice, “Uh, Sheriff. Can you actually arrest someone for failing
to wear a seatbelt?”
Talia waited to hear the answer with interest.
Ivanova leaned forward, smiling in a frightening way at
the man who dared to question her authority.
“I can,” was the answer.
“Right,” was the quick agreement.
Talia found herself being swung around by the shoulders
as the Sheriff whipped out her keys and fumbled for the handcuffs that the
blonde still sported. A reassuring click announced the ability to move her
hands once more.
Two gloved hands came together in front as she rubbed her
wrists for just a moment. The cuffs
hadn’t actually hurt. It was just the
sensation of wearing them that she found disturbing.
Her reverie was disturbed by a command from the Sheriff,
“Empty all your pockets onto the counter, Ms Winters.”
A tissue and a quarter were laid upon the counter without
comment.
“You’ll need to remove your belt, the shoes,” there was a
hesitation and then, “and your gloves.”
“Is all this really necessary, Sheriff?” asked Talia with
just a hint of annoyance in her deep voice.
Ivanova’s reply was silent but unmistakable.
“Right,” answered Talia her own question.
She removed the belt, placing it on the counter, and then
proceeded to take off her shoes. Without
the heels she was no longer as tall as the Sheriff. If this disturbed her it wasn’t apparent, but
the look of satisfaction on Ivanova’s face was unmistakable.
“Very good, you catch on quickly. Smart lady,” Ivanova congratulated her for
figuring out that doing what Susan wanted was the best way to proceed.
As a reward she explained, “It’s the little metal bits on
the shoes, you know? We can’t have you
making any kind of prison break. It wouldn’t make us look good,” Ivanova spoke
in a sarcastically confiding voice.
Talia nodded without responding, her attention now
focused on the black leather gloves that still covered her hands.
“Sheriff,” she started to ask.
“The gloves too,” she cut off the question before it
could be asked.
Ivanova was clearly annoyed again. She thought that
they’d covered this ground just a minute ago.
“Don’t ask, just do as I say” was the clear message on
the Sheriff’s face.
Talia wanted to pursue the issue, but she could see that
it was futile. Slowly she peeled the
gloves off, tossing them onto the counter as if she couldn’t care less, and
very casually put her hands behind her back once more.
Susan was extremely observant. Nothing escaped her for even a moment. This was one of the qualities that made her
such a good sheriff. She looked beyond the casualness of Talia’s moves and
scrutinized her hands in the brief seconds she had before they were out of
sight. The fine lines of numerous scars,
too many to count, covering both the front and back of those elegant, long
fingers and hands were completely out of character with the rest of this well
groomed, exceptionally gorgeous woman.
Ivanova sensed that she had an intriguing mystery in this
compelling woman. In spite of the ache in her head and the absolute chaos Talia
had wreaked upon her day, Susan could feel herself drawn to this woman for some
inexplicable reason. She was determined
to learn the blonde’s story before their encounter was over.
Corey, who saw nothing, interrupted the Sheriff’s
thoughts, “Shouldn’t we allow her a phone call?” he asked hesitantly.
Ivanova was surprised to realize that Talia hadn’t yet
demanded that phone call. Virtually
everyone she had ever arrested was screeching for that phone call, acting like
it was the single most important right they had as an American citizen. Ms Winters, obviously a New York City kind of
girl, hadn’t even mentioned the “L” word yet.
Lawyer.
Gesturing to the phone, she made it clear it was
available, “Go ahead and make your call.”
Surprisingly Talia shook her head in the negative, “That
won’t be necessary.”
Ivanova went on to explain, “You may not realize this,
but you’re going to be here for some time.
The circuit judge doesn’t come around again for at least a week. Someone is going to notice you’re missing and
worry about you.”
If Talia was dismayed by the news that she would be
spending a number of days in this less than five star residence, it wasn’t
apparent to Ivanova. This whole stoic
act was really starting to wear thin, thought Susan.
“As I said, Sheriff. That won’t be necessary,” was the
firm reply.
“Fine,” Ivanova answered abruptly. “Then let’s get you
into your new home. Shall we?”
She mockingly held a hand out to indicate the direction
in which Talia should move and followed in close proximity. As Talia made the turn, and Ivanova came up
behind her, she moved her hands to the front once again. Talia padded quietly
in her stocking feet towards the cells in the back.
Entering through a small door towards the back, Talia
found herself in a short hallway with three cells off of it. Each cell had bars on three sides with the
fourth wall being the outside wall of the building. The outside cells shared one wall while the
center cell shared two.
“Take your pick,” said Ivanova cheerfully.
Talia stared at her.
“OK, I’ll pick for you,” said Ivanova. She opened the last cell on the right and
waited for Talia to enter.
She did so without a word. The door clanged shut behind, a much larger
echo of the handcuffs from earlier. She
sat down gingerly on the cot, as though testing it to see if it would hold up
under her weight. The sheets and
blanket, though worn, looked clean, and the walls contained no graffiti. The
only other furniture in the small 8 x 10 cell was a small table with a folding
chair in front of it.
“Don’t worry, we washed the sheets. There hasn’t been a
sign of roaches in months,” Ivanova added mischievously.
Finally, she got a reaction. Talia came up off the bed and looked behind
her with suspicious eyes. The snort of
derision made her head whip back in time to see the self satisfied smirk on the
officer’s face as she started to walk away.
“Oh, if you need to use the facilities, you’ll have to
ask. Dinner’s at 6:00.”
She disappeared behind the door to the adjoining room as
it closed quietly. Talia was alone at
last. She sighed wearily as she sat down
on the bed, pushing back until her back was pressed against the wall. Pulling her knees up under her chin, her arms
curled around them keeping them in place, her feet up on the bed, she closed
her eyes and rested her forehead on her forearms. The room was silent except for the sound of
slow, even breathing.
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The sun shone through the window as it began its descent
into evening. Sheriff Ivanova opened the
door with one hip, carrying a covered tray with her two hands. She put the tray on a small table as she took
in the lovely woman before her. A
curtain of soft-looking straight blonde hair obscured the face of the
entrancing woman, who sat upright in a curled ball. Idly, Susan wondered if her hair was as soft
as it looked and what it smelled like.
Clearing her throat loudly, she rattled her set of keys
as she moved towards the cell door. Talia slowly lifted her head. Her face slightly puffy from sleep, but there
were no other indications of trauma from what must have been an ordeal for this
well-off woman. Ivanova was, in spite of
herself, impressed with the woman’s poise in a tough situation.
Nodding her head towards the tray she simply said, “Your
dinner.”
“Thank you,” was the low reply as Talia stood up to
stretch her cramped muscles.
“It isn’t anything too fancy. Just whatever the Blue Platter special is at
the dinner each night.”
“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” assured Talia.
“Probably not what you’re used to when it comes to fine
dining,” she answered caustically.
Looking long at the woman in uniform before her, Talia
realized the officer had already decided what kind of person she was based on
how she looked. The expensively tailored
clothes and hair screamed privilege and Ivanova wasn’t interested in looking
beyond the superficial.
Too bad, thought Talia ruefully. Susan Ivanova was one fine looking
woman. Not normally one to be attracted
to a woman in uniform, Talia could appreciate, for the first time, what the
attraction was about.
There was something erotically powerful about the
authority of the uniform and how Ivanova wore it. In spite of the long heat of the day and the
kind of day Talia knew full well she’d had, there was a crispness, an edge to
every move Ivanova made. The manner in which she held herself and the tidal
wave force of the confidence she exuded announced that she was not a person to
be trifled, with unless you had some sort of death wish. The bruises, still
forming on her face, just made her look that much more dangerous.
Talia didn’t think things were that bad for her yet but
she had to admit there was a great temptation to play with fire. Shaking her head mentally, she focused on the
tray Ivanova held in her hand.
Ivanova put the tray down on the small table and removed
the checked cloth that covered it.
Beneath it lay a large plate with an assortment of tacos and burritos,
along with a generous portion of rice and beans. The spicy odor rising from the plate reminded
Talia she hadn’t eaten since yesterday evening.
“Rosa makes the tortillas herself each morning, so
they’re fresh. And so’s the salsa,” offered Ivanova.
“It smells delicious,” enthused Talia, a small degree of
color infusing her features for the first time.
Susan was taken aback by the change it caused. The haughty features were suddenly warm and
the blue in her eyes becoming more pronounced. The small smile that flashed
fleetingly across her face hinted of a more ravishingly beautiful smile that
would well be worth the effort to coax out of hiding.
What a waste, thought Susan. A woman that gorgeous, from New York City,
probably had every eligible bachelor in a hundred mile radius knocking at her
door. Plays, ballets, operas, and a life
full of other beautiful but meaningless interactions. She looked good, but she doubted there was
anything behind the brittle yet elegant façade. Destined to be some man’s
ornament, no doubt, combining two large fortunes, making two rich people that
much more rich and powerful.
I’ll bet no one has ever told her, no, before in her
entire pampered life, she thought angrily.
A week in jail will do her good.
And I get to look at her, so not a bad deal all around she concluded,
smugly satisfied.
“I’ll be back in a bit, Ms Winters,” she said, leaving
Talia to her meal.
Ivanova returned in half an hour to find Talia once more
seated on the bed in the same position.
The plate of food was nearly empty, with the silverware neatly laid
across the top and the used napkin carefully refolded and aligned next to
it.
“You certainly are a neat guest. I’ll give you that, Ms
Winters,” she said in a friendly tone.
“Hardly a guest, Sheriff” Talia replied dryly.
“A slight euphemism perhaps,” she enjoined.
A raised brow was Talia’s only response.
Prickling at the lack of response, Susan said accusingly,
“What’s the matter, Ms Winters? Amazed
that small town hick sheriff might know what a euphemism is? Guess I was just able to rise above all that
inbreeding that’s been going on in my family.”
“Really, Sheriff.
There’s no need to be so defensive.
I was thinking no such thing. I’m tired, that’s all. It’s been a long
day.”
“You’re telling me?” muttered Ivanova raising a hand
unconsciously to the wounded side of her face.
A look of guilt appeared for a moment on Talia’s face,
but she said nothing in response. Susan
turned around and picked up a package off the floor that Talia hadn’t seen
there earlier. Ivanova tossed the
package onto the bed next to Talia.
“There are some pajamas and a few toiletries in there
that you’ll need. If you want something
else, let me know and I’ll see if I can get it for you.” she said gruffly.
“If I really am going to be here several days, would it
be possible to get some of my clothes from my car?” Talia asked politely. Lifting the gray silk blouse away from her
body with one hand she continued, “This isn’t going to hold up well to long
term use.”
“I’ll send Corey out tomorrow morning to bring back your
car and your suitcase. We‘re going to
have to go through it first before we can allow you to take anything.” She
explained.
Fuming inwardly at still another invasion of privacy,
Talia hid her feelings and nodded her agreement silently.
As Ivanova turned to leave, Talia realized there was one
more humiliation for the evening.
“Uh, Sheriff. I’d
like to use that restroom now, if I could?” It killed her to have to ask but
what choice did she have in this situation.
“I wondered if you were ever going to ask or if you had
an iron bladder,” commented Ivanova.
“You could have offered,” was the low reply.
“Yep, I could have,” was accompanied by a knowing
grin. “But I didn’t. And I’m not going to either. You want to go, you’re going to have ask.”
Talia’s full lips thinned briefly at the blatant
announcement of who was in charge, but said nothing. What could she say? Ivanova was in charge.
After a rough night with little sleep, Talia was greeted
by an extremely cheerful Corey bearing her breakfast. That much happiness first
thing in the morning was not Talia’s cup of tea, but it was impossible to be
mad at the charming young man.
Somewhat shy, but full of questions, Corey sat with her
in a chair he pulled out from an adjoining cell. Talia answered the questions between bites of
her breakfast. Well, she answered the
ones she wanted to and gave vague answers to the ones she didn’t. Corey didn’t
push. Anyone who worked for the Sheriff
and survived to tell the tale, knew better.
Once breakfast was over, Corey went back to the front of
the building to monitor the dispatcher’s station. Corey wore several hats in
his job; dispatcher, file clerk, receptionist, and backup in extreme cases when
Ivanova needed assistance. The latter
part of his job description had yet to occur, even though he’d been working
there for almost a year. No one was
certain how many clerks had preceded him, but everyone agreed that no one had
come close to lasting as long as he had thus far.
He left Talia a few magazines to read and she spent the
day leafing through them idly, taking several catnaps to make up for her rough
night. When dinnertime finally arrived,
she was sitting in her favorite position once again, staring quietly at the
wall with deep concentration.
When Ivanova stepped into the adjoining hall, she
followed the line of Talia’s stare, the intensity of it making her wonder if
perhaps the striking blonde woman was attempting to melt the bars of steel with
the power of her mind. Talia’s
concentration broken, Talia turned towards the woman who had her dinner.
Ivanova opened the door of the cell and once again placed
the tray on the table within. As she
turned to leave, Talia spoke for the first time.
“Please don’t go,” she asked quietly.
“What do you want?” asked Ivanova curiously.
“Nothing, just your company. Stay and talk to me a bit?”
she asked with a slight hint of pleading.
“Long day when you’re in here alone, isn’t it?” asked
Ivanova with a mixture of sympathy and vindication in her voice.
“Yes, it is. And
lately, I haven’t liked being alone with my own thoughts,” replied Talia.
It was hard to determine who was more taken aback by this
admission, the woman who heard it or the woman who couldn’t believe she’d just
shared it.
Loneliness and not wanting to be alone were things that
Susan could understand. She took the
chair out of the other cell and sat down inside the cell with Talia.
“Tell me about your day,” asked Talia.
“What?” asked Susan.
“Tell me about your day,” Talia repeated patiently. “I could tell you about mine, but I’d put us
both to sleep in a matter of seconds,” she finished with a small depreciating
grin.
“True,” conceded Ivanova, who then proceeded to talk
about how she’d spent her day.
Talia was amazed to hear how much went on in such a small
town with a few nearby ranches. As Susan
regaled her with amusing stories, Talia realized that Susan was more than the
sheriff of this town. She was their caretaker, their protector, even their
mother. She shared anecdotes about a
small boy who managed to get his head stuck between the bars of a metal fence
and another of a cat stuck up a tree, whose owner yelled at Susan not to hurt
her sweet baby each time she tried to pick it up. She also shared the
incredibly sad tale of the old man whose wife died last year. He called at least twice every week with
nonexistent problems. Finally, with a
fond smile, she told Talia about the farmer up the road who had a fright when
his youngest daughter failed to show up after school today (she’d completely lost
track of time as young girls do when they first fall in love).
Ivanova’s features softened as she mentioned each person
by name, giving a quick background on them, and repeating the conversations
they had shared. Her hands flew as she
described her day’s events, an attractive sparkle lighting her eyes, making the
handsome woman beautiful. The marks on
her face, the result of yesterday’s mishap, were more pronounced as the bruised
flesh had given in completely to the trauma.
Impulsively, Talia reached out a hand to the bruises on
Susan’s face and caressed them with a feather soft touch. Ivanova froze at the contact, an electrifying
feeling shooting through her body at an impossible speed.
“I am so sorry about hurting you yesterday,” Talia said
with tender sincerity.
Susan turned her head into the caress, staring at the
woman whose proximity was wreaking havoc with her nervous system. Talia’s hand
lightly stroked the discolored flesh as though she could heal it with her
touch.
“I truly never meant to harm you,” she explained. “No matter what the judge decides, I don’t
know if I’ll ever be able to forgive myself for driving away from you. It’s the lowest thing I’ve ever done.”
Tears shimmered in her eyes as she spoke. Her low voice vibrated through Susan’s body
in much the same way as the gentle touch on her cheek.
Just as impulsively, Susan allowed her soft lips to
delicately brush the palm for just a second.
Inhaling sharply, Talia’s movement ceased for a brief instant at the
reciprocating gesture, then began again. Careful not to hurt Susan any further,
the touch became more confident.
Susan gripped the wrist of the stroking hand, and
ignoring the pain, pressed it hard against her cheek. Soft, moist lips made their way along the arm
she held captive, until she reached the delicate flesh of the blonde woman’s
inner elbow. A sharp intake of breath
carried the distinct sound of a moan.
Susan looked up to see Talia’s face. Talia’s cheeks were flushed, her lips barely
parted, and her eyes were as blue as Susan’s.
Susan pulled slightly on the arm she still held, compelling Talia to
lean in towards her. They both stopped
when their faces, their lips, were just centimeters apart. Blue eyes stared into blue, each trying to
fathom what the other was thinking.
Talia decidedly closed the vast distance between them.
Both women moaned at this first brush of their lips,
their touch tentative and exploring.
Talia leaned in further towards Susan, bracing herself on Susan’s strong
thighs so as not to fall on her completely.
Susan’s hand slid up her arm, reaching the exposed flesh at the juncture
of her shoulder and neck, and continued under the hair that was every bit as
thick and soft as Susan had imagined it to be.
Her warm hand slipped up behind Talia’s ear and grasped the back of her
head to push her mouth more firmly against her own.
Willingly Talia deepened the kiss, her tongue demanding
entrance to Susan’s sensual mouth, wanting to find the soft wet place inside.
Her demand was met with another low moan, almost a growl, and then she was
inside, tasting and touching anything and everything her tongue could
reach. The force of her kiss pushed
Susan’s head back. By now, Talia was almost entirely sprawled across Susan’s
body.
Susan’s other hand joined its companion on Talia’s neck,
grasping Talia’s head firmly between them and pushing her away from Susan. The tiniest of whimpers came from Talia when
the contact between their lips was broken by Susan’s action.
Her eyes opened once more to find hooded blue eyes
staring intently at her. There was a
faintly bruised look to the lips, and a decided flush across the woman’s
face. Talia’s smile was one of sensual
satisfaction and a promise of more to come.
She leaned back towards Susan, but was held immobile by strong arms that
refused to allow her to close the gap once more.
Susan wasn’t against the idea, not in the least. Her eyes roamed the impassioned face before
her, a face that had shown very little emotion in spite of the difficult two
days its owner had endured. To have
gotten any reaction whatsoever had its own appeal. To see the first cracks in this cool blonde’s
reserve made Susan’s entire body almost twitch with anticipation. Finally, to
imagine this woman completely naked beneath her own body, both physically and
emotionally, made Susan realize how desperately she wanted to get inside this
magnificent creature, in every way that counted.
The blood roared loudly in her head and she could feel
the dampness already forming between her uniformed legs as she stood up,
forcing Talia to stand as well because she still held her head in her
hands. Talia watched as a world of
thoughts flashed across the bruised face before her, the underlying and obvious
desire never fading away. She could feel her own anticipation, her own need begin
to rise to the occasion.
Susan stepped forward until she was so close that their
breasts brushed against one another.
Sliding her arms once more down the firm biceps of the speechless blonde
woman, Susan slowly moved forward causing Talia to take a step backwards with
each of hers.
The dance without music stopped when the back of Talia’s
knees connected with the bed in the cell.
Talia looked behind her, down at the bed and then back up at Susan. She saw the questioning look on Susan’s face
and answered it swiftly and surely.
Standing on tiptoe she once more kissed the tall officer, giving an
unequivocal answer to the unspoken question.
Susan let go of her control completely this time,
devouring the proffered mouth as though she’d been left starving in the desert
for months with no sustenance to aid her.
Her arms circled the small waist of the shorter woman and pulled her up
tight against her own straining body.
For this kiss she entered Talia’s mouth, insisting on equal time for her
own exploration of the soft vulnerability she found within.
Talia’s knees were weak with desire and need. The only thing holding her up were Susan’s
strong arms. When Susan lowered Talia’s
body down to the waiting bed it was only those arms that kept her from falling
in an undignified heap. Seconds later,
she quickly found herself between a soft place and an even softer one.
As Susan’s weight pressed her down in the bed, their
bodies touching completely for the first time, all coherent thought was
lost. Of their own volition, her legs
parted, welcoming the intrusion of Susan’s clothed thigh between them. She was a liquid pool of fire whose only
requirement was that this feeling never stop.
Susan’s lips traveled down into the v-neck of the satiny
soft gray blouse, a softness that couldn’t even begin to compete with
velvetiness of the skin beneath it. She
could feel Talia arch up into her, encouraging her to continue on her
path. One hand carefully unbuttoned the
tiny pearl buttons on the blouse that impeded her intentions.
The tiny wisp of a bra she found inside didn’t stand a
chance. The front clasp was easily
undone and Susan’s goal was in sight.
Warm, firm hands came first, cupping Talia’s whole left breast, the
sensuous weight giving Susan a surge of passion. Her slightly calloused thumb
caressed the generously sized, dusty rose nipple that instantly hardened at her
touch.
Moving her hand over to the other as yet untouched
breast, Susan’s mouth landed in the place her hand had just vacated. Taking the stiff nub into her mouth, she
raked her teeth across it boldly, pulling up slightly at the same time. The
response was more than gratifying as Talia’s body almost lifted off the bed and
she moaned deeply.
Susan lifted her head slightly, blowing softly against
Talia’s aching nipple before returning once more. Talia’s need arched impossibly higher. She
slid her hands down the broad back above her, wanting to get under the shirt to
feel the flesh beneath. She wanted to feel that flesh pressing against her own,
with no barriers between them.
Grabbing the material of the cotton shirt, she bunched it
in her hand and pulled up. She could
feel it sliding out of the pants that held it captive. Reaching further down, she was rewarded by
the feel of warm, pliant flesh that quivered at her first touch. Encouraged, she moved her hands up, under the
shirt until she encountered the clasp of the very occupied brunette’s bra.
Releasing the clasp, she caressed the flesh that lay
beneath it. She followed its earlier
path to the front. Susan rose slightly,
never stopping her own hands and mouth from what they were doing. In spite of the still buttoned shirt, Talia
was able to maneuver her hands to Susan’s chest. She filled her own hands with the glorious
abundance of Susan’s breasts.
Talia cried out as the teeth surrounding her nipple bit
deeper in response to the touch, caught between the pleasure and the pain. Susan’s own moan might have been lost had she
not felt the rumble of it against her own chest.
“I want to see you,” whispered Talia hoarsely.
Susan did not answer, but raised her body higher,
reluctantly stopping what she had been doing in order to comply with the
request. Talia eagerly slipped her hands out of the shirt, and reached up for
the small plastic buttons that kept her from the vision of beauty she knew lay
within.
Susan bent her head down to kiss the fine scars that
adorned Talia’s hands as they reached her top button. Talia stopped what she was doing and pulled
her hands away at the first touch of her lips upon those marks,
“Don’t” she spoke sharply.
Quizzically, Susan looked at her. Talia simply stared back and shook her head
once. The look on her face warned Susan to agree to those terms or they could
stop what they were doing altogether.
Confused, but willing to abide by her demand, Susan responded by kissing
her lips once more, rekindling the flame that had dimmed.
Talia went back to her task, releasing the last
button. She slowly slid the uniform
shirt off the white shoulders, watching the smoldering blue eyes.
Removing the shirt and bra was a joint effort. Talia allowed her eyes to dip as Susan became
exposed to her gaze at last. A small
smile graced her lips as she saw that the nubs on the rosy red nipples were
already stiff and waiting. A low chuckle
filled with eager desire erupted briefly before the mouth that produced it
became otherwise engaged.
Susan’s head flew back, her dark mane of hair flying away
from her face with the motion. Her back
arced sharply, causing her chest to thrust deeper into the mouth that sought
it. The moistness that surrounded her
breast grew wetter.
Talia’s hands wandered once more as she continued her
attentions to the breasts above. She
couldn’t touch this devastingly beautiful woman enough. Tracing the soft skin along her sides, her
hands slid down to Susan’s waist until she reached the belt of her pants.
She blindly followed the line of the belt towards the
front, hoping to reach a potential opening that would allow her access. She unthinkingly grasped the large, hard
object that unexpectedly appeared. She
simply wanted to find a way around it, and to continue on her way.
Susan felt her blood run cold when she felt the soft hand
fumble with her gun. All her passion
drained away in an instant. Alarms of
warning screamed in her head, as she tore herself out of the arms of the woman
she’d just been kissing so heatedly.
Putting the balance of her weight on the knee still
caught between Talia’s legs, she wrenched both her arms back to grab the hands
of the woman who lay beneath her. She
swiftly pulled both arms up over the bewildered blonde’s head, and pinned them
there. Keeping them imprisoned with one
hand, she frantically checked her holster. A modicum of tension was released
from her body when she found it still closed and intact.
Talia didn’t understand what was happening. Passion and desire clouded her mind, but she
knew something was wrong.
“You almost had me,” Susan snarled coldly.
“I’d still like to,” answered Talia huskily, unclear as
to why they had stopped.
Susan’s eyes darkened at the suggestive comment, but she
pushed away the feeling that accompanied it.
Making a mistake big enough to almost get you killed had a way of
dampening even the greatest ardor.
“Is this how you get through life, Ms Winters? By seducing your way out of problems?” asked
Susan insultingly.
“I beg your pardon,” Talia was indignant.
“Beg all you want, sweetheart,” sneered Susan. “But I’ve got your number now. I see you for what you are. And I’m not
interested.”
Susan leaned in towards her as she said these last
words. Their naked breasts brushed
against one another. Her darkening eyes underlined the point that perhaps the
officer was fibbing just a bit on that last statement
Susan continued, “I don’t deny that you’re a most
desirable woman, Ms Winters. And OK,
yes, I do want you…”
“Rather badly, I’d say,” Talia couldn’t help herself.
The tightened grip around her wrists made her bite her
lower lip from the pain for just a moment. She didn’t mind this small price for
her cheekiness.
“Shut up, Ms Winters,” ground out Susan. “If you think I’m going to let that desire
blind me to your intentions, you are seriously mistaken. I suggest you practice undressing a few more
police officers. Maybe that way, you’ll be able to grab their gun a little more
gracefully. Until then, don’t bother me
with your pathetic little pretense of seduction.”
“Your gun?” Talia was truly amazed. And appalled, “Susan,
I wasn’t trying to take your gun…”
“Spare me the innocent act, please. Maybe that works up in the big city, but it’s
not going to cut it out here.”
The look of revulsion in Ivanova’s eyes was daunting, but
Talia was not a quitter.
Trying to remain calm, she continued, “Susan, you have to listen to me. I woul