Winning Touch
by
Kim Pritekel

Disclaimers: This little tale is mine and all mine.

Sex: Yes’m. There will be sex in here, and you should know better than to ask if you’ve ever read my work before. J

If you’d like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com.

Part 1

Chapter 1

She glanced down at her watch, noting the time for the fifth time in the last hour, more out of nervousness than because she really cared if it were four p.m. or four-thirty p.m. She glanced over to the driver – a young man dressed in a black suit and tie, quiet and attentive – to see if she could catch his eye in the rearview mirror. His attention was on the road, with it’s snow and ice-covered streets.

Deciding not to bother him, Christina Simms turned her attention back to the window beside her. The flight had been long, as she had flown across the pond from Madrid, Spain to DIA in Denver, Colorado. It had been awhile since she’d been stateside, and in some ways was glad to be back. She just wondered how long her stay would be.

The petit blonde grabbed the file folder of information that had been emailed to her, and then printed out and gone over. Several times. She looked over the athletic history over the past seventeen years of the woman she was going to see. Though Christina had been in the same world, she hadn’t much followed this particular champion’s career. Even still, she couldn’t help but think back to many years before. Many, many years before. Christina had been a child of only six. A lifetime ago.

~~~~~

26 Years Ago

The Pimberton Skating Arena was a large building made of white painted brick with blue trim all along the bottom third of the walls, and around the windows and doors. A large sign above the entrance welcomed those inside its doors.

The tiny six year old held fast to her mother’s hand as they walked inside the large building. She had insisted that she carry her brand new skates that day, throwing a fit in the garage before they’d left the family home in Colorado Springs, a forty-five minute drive from the arena in Castle Rock. Now, as she looked around the large lobby, she wished she had let her mother carry them. They suddenly felt heavy and awkward in the pink bag they were hiding in, which was slung over her shoulder.

They stopped at a window, which the small blonde child couldn’t see over, and her mother spoke to someone unseen. This gave the girl a few moments to look around, seeing a built-in case on the opposite wall with lots of shiny trophies in it. Christina walked over to it, looking up at all the pretty cups and ribbons, golden figure skaters atop each one.

“This way, Christina,” her mother, Pam said, taking the girl by the hand again and leading her quickly across the lobby, Christina’s short legs barely able to keep up.

They went down a long, dim hallway, pictures lining the walls. All the images were of people on the ice, either skaters or boys playing hockey. Christina tried to take them all in as she was nearly dragged to the women’s locker room. Once there, Christina was placed on the counter by the sinks so Pam could better reach her daughter and get her ready.

Pam had been told to put her daughter in tights and a skirt and sweater, finished with mittens. Coach Duval didn’t want coats on the children, as she said it hampered their mobility. Pam had acquiesced, though she’d put two layers on her child, as she knew how easily the tiny girl got cold. Christina was small for her age, and very thin. Pam and her husband Joe had hoped that the strenuous activity of ice skating might help build the girl up a bit, put some muscle on her frail frame.

Christina cooperated as much as she could as her mother shoved the white skates onto her tiny feet, Pam asking if they were too tight as she laced them up. The girl shook her head, wide green eyes watching her mother’s every room. She admired the way the light glinted off the metal blades of the skates.

“Okay, sweetie. Let’s get you out there to meet Coach Duval. We’re already late.” Pam picked up the small child and carried her on her hip as she shouldered the pink bag and headed out towards the ice.

Pam was nervous as she stood by the wall, watching out over the ice as Coach Duval led thirteen little girls and boys out onto the center of the ice with her. The children were aged five to eight, and Pam couldn’t help but chuckle as all the little ones waddled their way out. The skates were so tiny, their legs short and bowed as they were unsure. It was just about the cutest thing she’d ever seen.

Her husband Joe had heard about the coach from a friend of his at the plant. They’d been discussing various options for their daughter, something to help get her involved with other kids, as well as the strengthen her body. She’d been a sick baby from birth, and it seemed that all her ailments had somewhat stunted her growth. Though the doctors assured them she’d catch up eventually, Christina was behind the game now, low on all the percentile averages for kids her age.

The other reason – and the most closest to Pam’s heart – was to try and get Christina out with other kids. The girl was Pam and Joe’s first – and likely only – child, so Pam was trying to take her daughter’s problems into consideration, and help her in any way she could She talked to other young – and not-so-young – mothers all the time, trying to see if Christina’s behavior was normal.

Christina was an immensely quiet child, even for one so young as six. She stayed to herself, and didn’t really seem to know how to interact with other kids her age. At school, she kept to herself, and her teacher had talked to Pam and Joe about it more than once. The other kids were hard on Christina, finding it easy to pick on one so small, and so unlikely to defend herself.

It broke Pam’s heart to watch her little girl suffer, but she truly didn’t know what to do. So, here they were, driving more than forty-five minutes away from their home to try and help the little girl. Pam loved her daughter more than life itself, and couldn’t stand to watch her be alone or so frail anymore. She couldn’t help but blame herself: had it been something she’d done wrong during her pregnancy? Were they doing something wrong now?

She had no idea, but as she watched her little girl waddle her way across the ice, her tiny hand held within Coach Duval’s, she couldn’t help but smile, her heart filling with love and pride for her baby.

*****

Pam reached over the table to help cut up her daughter’s meat, making sure it was in tiny pieces so she wouldn’t choke. The six year old watched, green eyes curious.

“Sorry I’m late,” Joe said, breezing in and sliding in the booth next to his wife. He tugged off his gloves and coat, which smelled of the cold winter air. He gave his wife a quick kiss to the cheek and winked at his daughter.

“It’s okay. We haven’t been here long. The food just got here,” Pam said, finishing with her daughter’s meat. “Tina was really hungry, so we went ahead and ordered.”

“That’s fine.” Joe waved over the waitress and gave her his order, craving a big, juicy cheeseburger. He’d been working all morning at the plant, and was so hungry he could start munching on the vinyl booth they sat in. “So how did it go?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee from the pot that had been left from Pam’s coffee order.

“Good. Really good.” Pam sipped her own coffee. “Coach Duval was really nice, and she said that Tina has some natural talent.”

“Really?” Joe asked, pleasantly surprised. His wife had wanted him to go with her to take Christina for her first ice skating lesson, but he didn’t feel taking a day off work was worth it for that, though he did want his daughter to do well. “Tell me about it.”

Christina at her lunch, listening to her parents talk about her. She was so quiet that they rarely involved her much in conversation, sometimes forgetting she was even there. She was lost in her own mind, and would often drift away, their words lost on her. Today was no exception.

“And she seemed to interact well with other kids,” Pam continued, Christina missing most of her mother’s words.

Tina stabbed at a carrot with her fork, watching in fascination as the orange vegetable – made soft from boiling – squished under the pressure of the tines. She used more force, liking the sight and sound as the orange goo oozed up in between the tines.

“Tina, eat it, don’t play with it,” Pam said, glancing at her daughter. She had been interrupted from her tale as the waitress brought her husband’s Coke to drink, as well as the salad that would come before his meal. “So, anyway,” she continued after the woman left, “the coach feels she actually will do very well in skating. She feels that as she gets stronger and a bit older, her size will actually be beneficial for her.”

“You’re kidding?” Joe said, sticking the plastic straw he’d been given into his drink. “How so?”

“Because she said it will make Tina faster, more maneuverable.”

Joe nodded in understanding, stabbing his salad, much like his daughter was doing with her own food. “How was she with the other kids?”

“Okay. She was quiet, but one little girl was really nice to her. Kept helping her up when she’d fall.”

“And she let her?” Joe asked, surprised.

Christina glanced up at her dad, wondering if she was about to be in trouble.

“Yes! It was awesome.” Pam’s smile was big.

Joe grinned at his daughter. “Excellent, Tina!”

The little blonde smiled, pleased that she’d made her dad happy.

~~~~~

Christina removed the series of clipped newspaper articles she’d found when doing research for this job. They were grainy black and white pictures of the skater as a young girl, teenager, and finally a grown woman, standing in the spot light of success.

She looked up when she realized the car was slowing to a stop. Looking around again, she saw a line of cars ahead of them that had seemed to come out of nowhere. In front of the traffic were flashing red and blue lights.

“Looks we’ve got an accident, ma’am,” the driver said, glancing at his passenger over his shoulder. “Would you like me to wait or find an alternate route?”

Christina studied the traffic, trying to decide. “Find an alternate route,” she said finally.

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll call ahead to let them know you’ll be a bit late.” The driver didn’t wait for a response as he pulled out his cell phone.

“Yes, thank you.”

~~~~~

Christina sat on the bench in the ladies’ locker room, her mother untying her skates. Her new friend, Farren Hankins was also getting her gear off, her mother speaking quietly to the girl, who was older by one year. She’d been nice to Christina since the first day they started skating with Coach Duval. The brown-haired girl had even helped her up when Christina had fallen. She was nice.

“Are you ready to go, honey?” Pam asked her daughter, whose focus was on the pretty little girl a bench over. “Christina?” When she had her daughter’s attention she smiled up at her, from where she’d been kneeling to remove the skates and put on tiny snow boots. “Are you ready?”

Christina nodded. She hopped down from the bench and was handed her pink bag, which held her beloved skates. She had been going to skating lessons for over a month now, and it had become her most favorite thing to do. She even slept with her skates sometimes, but had to stop when she woke up in the middle of the night with a small cut on her chin from the sharp toe pick.

Pam took her daughter’s hand and was about to head out of the locker room when they were stopped by Florence Hankins, Farren’s mother. “Pam?” she called out, hurrying after the young mother and her daughter.

“Yeah, Florence?” Pam asked, surprised that the other woman even knew her name. They’d never spoken much, though she’d tried during the first couple of lessons. The brunette’s seeming disinterest in making friends had kept her quiet over the past couple weeks.

“Farren and I are heading out to get some lunch. We wondered if you and Christina would like to join us?”

Very surprised and taken aback, Pam looked down at her daughter, seeing the wide, hopeful eyes of the girl. That clinched it for her. “Okay,” she said, a pretty smile on her equally pretty face.

*****

Christina couldn’t stop staring at the little girl who sat across from her in the fast food restaurant. Farren Hankins was her name, and the little blonde was fascinated. Farren was a much taller girl than she was, and older, too. She had big, pretty blue eyes, and said she had a big dog at home named Frisbee. She wanted a dog, too, but her dad was allergic. Someday she’d have a dog. Just like Farren.

Pam was doing her best to listen to Florence’s string of self-praise, the brunette describing all the activities she and her husband, Robb had their daughter in: ice skating, gymnastics, dance and soccer during the summer.

Pam’s dark blonde brows drew. “When does she have time to be a kid?” she asked, not understanding the need to keep the girl continually busy.

Florence stared at the young mother like she had just eaten a bug. “She’s a kid during all her activities,” she explained. “She interacts with all the other little girls and boys, plus she’s absolutely brilliant on the soccer field! Aren’t you, sweetie?” she asked, reaching over to her daughter and absently fixing the collar of her shirt.

“I scored three goals this month,” Farren said, blue eyes bright.

Pam smiled at the girl. It wasn’t Farren’s fault who her mother was. “That’s wonderful, sweetie!”

“I wanna play soccer,” Christina said, glancing up at her mother.

“We’ll talk about it later, honey,” Pam whispered, gently stroking the long, blonde hair. She smiled at her daughter, placing a quick, loving kiss on the top of her head.

Farren watched the interaction between mother and daughter, then looked longing up at her own mother. Florence was busily dipping three fries into her ketchup and shoving them into her mouth. Farren looked from her mother to Christina’s mother, noticing how different they were in size. Pam Simms was pretty with shoulder-length dark blonde hair and a pretty figure. She was built small like her daughter. Florence Hankins had a wide bottom and short hair, once dark brown but now had streaks of gray in it. She wasn’t as pretty as Pam was.

Farren turned her attention back to her new friend. She liked Christina, and kind of felt protective of her. The little blonde was really quiet and looked like a stiff burst of wind could send her flying. “Do you wanna meet Frisbee?” she asked.

Christina nodded vigorously, turning to her mom. “Can I, Mama?”

Pam looked from her daughter to Farren and finally to Florence, who she had decided she didn’t like very much. “Well, why don’t you ask Mrs. Hankins if you can?” she advised.

Christina turned to Farren’s mom, who scared her. “Can I meet Frisbee, Mrs. Hankins?” she asked quietly.

“You should speak up, Christina so people can hear you better. You’re such a pretty little thing; you shouldn’t be so shy.” Florence turned to Pam, without answering the request. “Why is she so shy?”

Pam put a protective arm around her daughter’s shoulders. “She’s always been quiet. It’s just her nature.” She wondered, for not the first time, why Florence had invited them to lunch. It had been obvious from the first five minutes they’d been at the Burger King that the two women had nothing in common.

Christina really wanted to meet Farren’s dog, but was too afraid to ask again, so she turned to her cheeseburger, munching on it, as she knew her mama wouldn’t be happy if she didn’t eat. She didn’t like to eat: she had other things she’d rather do.

“Mom?” Farren asked, not letting her mother get away with not answering. She really wanted her friend to meet her dog. “Can Christina come over and meet Frisbee?”

“Not today, Farren. We have to go to your brother’s recital.”

Farren pouted, hating her brother all the more. She glanced over at Christina, who had assumed the same pouting pose. She watched the smaller girl, amused when she stuck out her tongue, and Christina soon followed suit, her tiny pink tongue poking out between her lips. Farren held in her giggle as she did it again, this time crossing her eyes at the same time. Christina managed the tongue thing, but couldn’t quiet do the crossed eye thing.

Pam had enough of Florence Hankins for one day, the woman’s energy clashing badly with her own. Besides, she didn’t like the fact that the woman had totally ignored her daughter’s polite request. She wadded up the trash from their lunches and put it on the brown plastic tray in front of her. “Well, you ready to hit it, Tina?”

The little blonde nodded, sitting up in her chair, feet dangling. She gave a shy glance to her new friend then scuttled out of the hard plastic booth after her mother had slid out.

Florence and Farren followed. “See you next week, Christy,” Farren said, waving at the little girl as she was being guided out by her mother.

The little blonde had never been called Christy before, but kind of liked it. She waved back before turning and hurrying after her mother.

~~~~~

The black town car turned down a tree-lined street, snow falling to create a beautiful, holiday-esque image. There was only one house on the entire street, and as they neared, it proved to be quiet the sprawling complex.

Christina stared out the window of the sedan, whistling between her teeth. It was gorgeous, alright, and surprising. Green eyes took in the three-story brick house, plus the two out buildings. She realized one was a garage, which was larger than any house she’d ever owned, all on its own. The other building was brick also, but only a bit, as the majority of the structure was made up of windows. She figured the building was either a pool, or a rink. Maybe both, judging from the size.

The driver helped Christina out from the car, waiting until she was stable before letting her arm go. He’d been given specific instructions to keep an eye on the woman, and make sure she always had her cane before letting go. The blonde took the help in stride, and tipped him well.

Christina hadn’t bothered to bring any luggage with her this afternoon. She figured it was best to play it safe and see how the initial meeting went before making any sort of permanent arrangements. Her parents were more than happy to keep her few belongings stored in their spare bedroom downstairs.

~~~~~

Christina sat on the padded table, Dr. Leonard and her mother sitting on stools, talking. She looked around the small examination room, which she’d seen a hundred times before. Hung all over were fun pictures of colorful cartoon animals and funny faces. She swung her legs impatiently, wanting to leave so she could go to the ice rink.

She’d been working with Coach Duval now for almost six months, and ice skating had become her life. It was all the six-and-a-half year old thought about. She loved it, and was really good at it, too! It made her feel happy, and like maybe she was good at something! It made her smile when Coach Duval clapped her hands and said nice things to her. Plus, she got to see Farren!

“She’s doing great, Pam,” Dr. Leonard was saying. He glanced over at his young patient. “Her weight has gone up, and I can see a definite change in her demeanor.”

“She loves it, Dr. Leo,” Pam said, calling the doctor by the nickname all his patience called him. And their parents. Pam lowered her voice a bit. “I think she’s finally found something that really matters to her. Her coach has said she has wonderful natural talent and ability, plus that kid is already beginning to choreograph her own routines!” Pam’s enthusiasm was infectious, making the pediatrician smile. He’d been Christina’s doctor since birth.

“That’s wonderful, Pam. I think you and Joe have made a very wise decision in keeping her in it.”

Pam rolled her eyes and laughed. “Are you kidding? We couldn’t drag that girl away from it if we tried. And we have.” They both laughed. “It’s expensive, but if it keeps her happy and healthy,” Pam shrugged, “then the second job I’ve taken on is worth it.”

*****

Sherry Duval watched her youngest skater, fingers on her chin. She was amazed as she watched the little blonde, who seemed to pick up anything that was thrown at her. She was smart and incredibly skilled, with an awareness of her body that Sherry had never seen in her sixteen years as a coach.

“Try it again, Christina,” she called out, the little girl falling to her butt as she’d tried a very advanced move. Without shedding a single tear, the determined little one got to her feet and went into the spin again. She turned to her assistant, Ray. “Watch her for a minute.”

Pam was standing on the sidelines as usual, and was surprised to see the coach skating her way over to her. Sherry opened the half-wall/half-plexi-glass door and stepped onto the burbur carpeting, walking on the blades of her skates as though they were ordinary snow boots.

“Hey, Pam,” she said, making sure she closed the door before fully turning to the woman. “I wanted to talk to you about Christina.”

“Is everything okay?” the young mother asked, worried.

“Oh, yeah!” Sherry waved off her concerned tone. “Very okay. That’s what I want to talk to you about. Your daughter shows some amazing talent already, and she’s not quite seven yet. Honestly, Pam, I think your little girl could have a future in figure skating if she wanted it.”

They both looked out onto the ice, watching as Ray helped the girl in question with some of her arm movements for the spin. “We’re so proud of her, and I know she absolutely loves to be out there.” Pam chewed on her lower lip, thinking of what Sherry was telling her. She just knew there would be more costs involved, as she sensed the coach had more to say.

“I’d like to take her on,” Sherry said, turning back to Pam Simms. “I want to be her personal coach, Pam.”

Pam met the other woman’s steady gaze. She was filled with a wave of pride for her daughter. Somehow it just felt right what Pam was saying. Maybe that was her little girl’s destiny. “What all does that entail?” she asked, a bit nervous to find out.

“Well, I was actually thinking that maybe you, Joe me and Christina should sit down and discuss this. What I’m talking about is training your daughter for bigger things. She’s little now, but I can guarantee you that in a couple years, this little one will be competing and will be a force to be reckoned with.”

Pam continued to chew on her lip, deep in thought as she watched her daughter. Finally she nodded with a sigh. “Okay. I’ll talk to Joe and we can set something up to talk.”

~~~~~

Christina was ushered into a beautiful home office, a fire already dancing in the stone fireplace. The floors were highly-polished wood, which matched the wainscoting. The walls were painted a deep sea green, making the room feel cozy, without feeling closed in.

Dark, rich bookshelves were inlaid in the walls, filled with books of every shape and size. Christina was too far away to see any titles. There were a few framed pictures, all showing the famous figure skater in action on the ice. Mounted between two of the bookcases were wooden shadow boxes, showcasing four silver Olympic medals, hanging on their patriotic red, white and blue ribbons, as well as two bronze medals.

Christina pushed up from her seat and walked over to them, reading the brass nameplates underneath each medal, reading the year and place where they had been won. She remembered many of those games, as she’d been there herself.

~~~~~

“Come on, Tina!” Sherry barked, looking back down at her stopwatch. The eight year old zoomed past her on her skates, looking as though she’d been born with them already tied on. “Faster! Push yourself!”

Christina put her all into it, coming to a cocky slide in front of the coach after her final lap. Chips of ice splattered the coach’s pant legs, making the coach frown and the girl giggle.

“Cute.” Sherry stopped the time, smiling at what she saw. “Excellent. You bet your time last week.” In the year and a half that she’d been training Christina, these phases of endurance training were her least favorite, but it was needed. She had to make sure her skater had plenty of stamina to endure the tough challenges up ahead for her. This year they’d begin the competition circuit. She could have started Christina last year, but she wanted to build the girl up, which she’d done.

Christina was out of breath, but felt great. She reached back to re-do her ponytail, which had come loose during her sprint. “I think the left boot is a little wobbly, Sherry,” the girl said, balancing on one leg to show the skate she was talking about.

Sherry took hold of the girl’s foot and examined the fittings where the blade was attached. Her brow furrowed. “Yeah, I see that. Come on. Take those off and I’ll get Ray to fix it. You have your spares here, right?”

Christina nodded, following her coach off the ice. Sherry had always been super attentive to the state of her skates. If anything went wrong with those, it could mean disaster for a routine or a costly injury.

~~~~~

Christina focused on the silver medals, a small sigh escaping her lips. Could those have ever been mine? Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the office door opening and then closing. Footfalls sounded on the wood floor, then the sound of someone seating themselves in a leather chair.

The blonde turned to see her past looking back at her.

~~~~~

Pam was in tears, sitting next to her husband and parents in the stands, her little girl down on the ice skating to a most ambitious choice of music in Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony, otherwise known as Ode To Joy. The little ten year old never missed a beat, never missed a single move. She executed her spins and jumps with grace and power.

In the four years since Christina had started skating, her entire demeanor had changed. Her entire attitude. She had become confident in her abilities and within herself. Pam would always be grateful to Sherry Duval for all she’d done for her little girl.

The crowd was clapping along to the familiar music as Christina whipped around the rink. The little blonde didn’t even pay any notice to those in the stands, instead losing herself in the music and the story she had painted in her head. She slowed down preparing to launch herself into a triple loop. She and Sherry had been working hard on the jump for months. This would be the first time she’d ever done it in a competition setting.

Sherry watched from the side, sending up prayers that Tina would pull it off. She saw the girl slowing, getting ready for the jump. “Come on, little one,” she whispered, her hands moving to cover her mouth as she watched with wide eyes.

The crowd seemed to hold it’s collective breath as the small skater leapt into the air, her body a blur of turns until finally she landed on one foot, riding out the inertia of the jump. The crowd was on it’s feet, especially two very excited and crying parents.

“Yes!” Christina shouted, knowing she’d never be heard over the music and the cheering. Her adrenaline was rushing through her system.

Coach Beverly Michaels watched, standing next to her own skater, a worried frown between her brown eyes. The girl was good. She’d heard she was, even from her own skater, Farren Hankins. The girl was very good, and likely the only skater there who could challenge the eleven year old.

Farren watched, arms crossed over her developing chest. She hadn’t spoken with the girl who had once been a friend, in two years. Once Christina had become Sherry Duval’s private student, Florence Hankins had decided Farren needed her own private coach. They had found Beverly Michaels shortly after. The coach – who had been a figure skater all throughout her twenties, only stopping once she’d decided to have a family – was an amazing skater with a gift for choreography. She had convinced Farren that her friendship with Christina may not be good, as they would undoubtedly become strong competitors as they got older. The girls’ friendship had ended that day.

As she watched Christina on the ice, her hopes for this competition were slowly fading. She had already skated, and had done well, but was it as well – or better – than her fiercest competitor? She honestly didn’t know.

~~~~~

“Beautiful, aren’t they?”

Christina turned to see a man sitting at the large, mahogany desk. He sat back in the captain’s chair, thin brown hair slicked back across his scalp. His round glasses sat on his nose, and he looked at her over the tops of them. “Yes, they are.”

“We’re wanting to add to that collection.” The man pushed up from the chair and walked over to where Christina stood. “Pardon my manners. I’m Alex Mason, Miss Hankins’ agent and attorney.”

Christina took the man’s extended hand, his grasp warm and firm. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Mason.”

“Please call me Alex,” he said, moving back around the desk to sit down. “Please sit.”

Christina sat and crossed one leg over the other, ready to get down to business. “I want to convey how sorry I am about Beverly. She was one of the finest coaches I’ve ever known.”

Alex sighed sadly with a nod. “Yes, she was. She and Farren were a team for nearly twenty-five years.” He laced his fingers and rested his hands on the desk top. “Farren will be with you shortly, but I just want to tell you a few things before she arrives. She has had a …,” he hesitated, choosing his next words carefully, “difficult … time with Beverly’s death. She was not only Farren’s coach, but a trusted friend for a long time. As you know, being in the same industry, trusted friends are difficult to come by, given Farren’s success. It was a personal, as well as professional loss, for her.”

Christina nodded. “I understand.” She sat back in her chair, tilting her head slightly as she tried to recall what she’d read in the files on the drive to the house. “Farren Hankins hasn’t skated in more than two years since Beverly was killed in the crash, correct?”

Alex nodded. “That is correct. And we’re not just talking competitively, either. To my knowledge, she hasn’t skated at all.”

“So why now?”

Alex sighed, leaning back into his chair. “It’s time for her to get back on the ice.”

Before Christina could ask for more clarification on that comment, there was the sound of someone entering the house, heavy footfalls heading toward the closed office door.

~~~~~

Three years had gone by since Christina’s exciting win with the first appearance of her Ode To Joy routine. It was well known in the skating community in Colorado that Christina Simms and Farren Hankins were bitter rivals. Each girl was known as a prodigy in the sport, yet were known for two different skills: Christina was powerful and compact, her shorter stature and musculature making her almost able to compete with the boys in her event. She had a powerful force to her skating that was awe-inspiring. Farren was tall and beautiful, her skating much like watching a ballerina on ice. Her skill and grace were stunning and captivating.

As different as night and day, but Christina Simms and Farren Hankins were fierce competitors, leaving a wake of third bests in their wake, both girls nabbing first and second place in every competition they were participants in.

Now, at ages thirteen and fourteen respectively, they were taking it outside of Colorado. Both skaters, their families and coaches were in Boston, MA for the biggest competitions of the girls’ lives. This would get them both ready for the big time: the Olympics.

Christina was in the dressing area applying the dark makeup she’d wear on the ice. She hated makeup and never wore it during her regular daily life, but for a performance, it was a necessary evil. As the blonde teen looked at herself in the mirror, the Hollywood bulbs lit all around, she had to smile. Never would she have seen herself where she was: traveling around to various competitions, known as one of the best in not only her age group, but in the industry period. Nothing mattered to her but skating. Well, nothing other than maybe her books. She loved to read almost as much as she loved donning her skates.

Christina’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of her greatest enemy, Farren Hankins, and Farren’s entourage. The beautiful brunette always had a following, whether it be reporters – thanks to her mother calling every newspaper in town, no matter where Farren went – or her fan base, which Christina suspected was also somehow something Florence Hankins had done. Green eyes rolled as Farren walked by, her nose in the air as if no one else was in the dressing room.

“Get over yourself, already,” Christina whispered, turning back to her own reflection to finish readying for her skate. She had an ambitious program tonight, skating to Gethsemane from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s Jesus Christ Superstar. While most of the girls skated to popular music, Christine preferred to show off a bit of her self-sought culture in opera and musical theater. It always drove her parents crazy when she was looking for her next music to skate to. She’d have the stereo blaring for days, trying to find just the right piece to go with what she saw in her head.

“Hey, kiddo,” Sherry Duval said, wondering into the dressing room. She eyed the other girls, getting an idea of outfits and looks compared to her star pupil.

“Hi, Sherry,” Christina said, smacking her lips together after applying the pale lipstick that finished off her look.

“Let me see you.”

The blonde stood, striking a pose to show her body and costume off to the best effect, turning so Sherry could see all sides.

The coach smiled with an approving nod. “Very nice, honey. You’re gonna slay ‘em out there.”

Christina grinned, turning back to the mirror when Sherry indicated she had lipstick on her teeth. “Have my parents arrived yet?” she asked, tossing the lipstick-stained Kleenex into a trashcan.

“Yes. They’re in section A, row 5.”

“Okay, thanks.” Christina took a deep breath. She was first on the roster tonight, a complete bookend to Farren Hankins, who was last. She shook out her arms and began to do last minute stretches.

“You’re ready for this, Tina,” Sherry assured, her voice serious as a heart attack. “You can do this.”

*****

All eyes were on the blonde skater as she whirled around the ice, the inspiring music and lyrics sung by Michael Ball pushing her on. She lost all cognizant thought of the thousands of pairs of eyes that were on her, instead allowing the music and movement to flow through her, like a surge of energy creating magic with her body.

Christina closed her eyes as she whipped around, creating a dizzying image as she folded herself into the spin, finally coming out of it only to jet across the ice, whipping around as she readied to launch into a triple axel, executing it with perfect precision and skill. Her legs were incredibly powerful, even at the young age of thirteen. Many joked that she could crack a walnut between them.

Her doctor had prescribed light weight-lifting for her to help ready her body for the strenuous activity she put it through daily. Pam had spoken with weight training experts to find the proper way for a child – a growing child, no less – to train. They’d found a regimen that had worked well. But, as Christina had gotten older, she’d taken it upon herself to learn and experiment. Soon, she had begun to build a body that was muscle hard and extremely powerful. Now, on the verge of womanhood, it was growing even more so.

The song began to wind down,

Then, I was inspired
Now, I’m sad and tired
After all, I’ve tried for three years,
Seems like ninety

Christina trailed across the ice, her movements slow and filled with the anguish of the words,

Why then am I scared to finish
What I started
What you started,
I didn’t start it

As the music picked up, the song reaching it’s peak, Christina sped up the program, launching into a series of turns and jumps, finally sliding across the ice on her knees as the song came to it’s pain-filled end.

Breathing heavily, Christina held the final position, listening to the roar of the crowd, which were on their feet. She loved her job!

~~~~~

Christina rose from the chair she’d been sitting in to speak with Alex Mason. She turned to face the opened office door. Farren Hankins stood there, looking from her agent to the newcomer, her blue eyes lit up with anger and confusion. Suddenly it hit Christina: Farren didn’t call for her. She had just found out the blonde was there.

Alex hurried around the desk to intercept the skater, who stormed from the doorway. “Farren, wait!’ he called, leaving the blonde alone in the office.

“Oh boy,” Christina muttered, remembering how legendary Farren’s temper was.

*****

Farren Hankins had a very good idea what her agent – make that ex-agent – was up to. She stormed across the foyer of the house, headed for the winding staircase where she would go to her bedroom suite, change her clothes and pack a bag to leave the goddamn state. Maybe the country!

“Farren, stop!” Alex pleaded, his pudgy body trying to keep up with the long, confident stride of his boss. He nearly ran into her as she made a sudden stop on the stairs, turning to glare down at him.

“What do you have to say right now that I really want to hear, Alex?” she asked, her voice ice.

Alex’s heart was pounding, both from fear and from the exertion of chasing after the difficult skater. “She’s here to help, Farren.”

“Help whom?” Farren asked, arms crossing over her chest.

“You haven’t been on the ice in two years. It’s time to get back into it.” Alex’s pleading eyes looked into cold blue ones. “Back into life.”

~~~~~

Farren was ready, dressed and her skates on. She was pacing in the dressing room, wishing Beverly would arrive already. She needed her coach there with her. They were in Torino, Italy, and this was to be Farren’s final Olympics. She was retiring after this year, and wanted Beverly Michaels there to witness what she had helped to create. Together they had created a program that promised to finally grab that elusive gold.

Farren checked the time again. Beverly should have been there long before now. The coach had flown back to the states because her son had been in a car accident and she’d wanted to be there for him. After all, they’d been in Italy for more than a month already training, and Farren felt confident that she had the routine, and if Beverly had to go, it was the perfect time. She had been on the red-eye out of DIA the night before, and had been due at the arena around the same time as when Farren got there. The coach was nowhere to be seen.

Farren was digging through her duffel bag to find her phone when she felt a touch on her arm. Turning and expecting to see Beverly, she was surprised to instead see her father, eyes red and still brimming with tears.

~~~~~

Farren shook the memory away, not wanting to think about that horrible day that she’d found out her coach had died when her plane had gone down. She remembered that her agent had spoken to her, so she shook herself free of the memory and looked him in the eye.

“Give her a room for the night and compensation for coming all this way from wherever she came from, and an apology from you for wasting her time.” With those final words, she hurried up the stairs and to her bedroom, leaving Alex Mason with the slam of a distant door.

Christina had heard what Farren had said, as she was standing at the foot of the stairs. She watched as an embarrassed agent met her there.

“I’m deeply sorry, Christina,” Alex said, his face red from a mixture of humiliation and anger. “Let me show you to a room for the night.”

Christina wanted to decline, calling the car company back to come get her and take her to a hotel by the airport. Something inside her told her to stay. So, with a nod of acquiescence, she followed Alex up the stairs.

*****

Night had fallen, and Christina was restless. The room she’d been given to stay in was beautiful, with a huge four-poster bed and a lavish personal bath, replete with a Jacuzzi tub. It was decadent to the normally simple blonde.

Alex Mason had given her permission to use the pool in the other building, should she wish to. He told her there was also a hot tub attached, if it would help her leg. It had made Christina blanch slightly, to know that Alex knew about her long-ago injuries, but she smiled and thanked him politely. No reason to be angry over the man’s kindness.

The late night was cold, bitterly cold. She huddled inside her jacket, mindful of not stepping on any ice, as she hadn’t brought her cane with her. Now, as she saw a sea of snow before her, with potential unseen dangers beneath, she felt that had been an unwise decision. The large building loomed large, security lights on the property keeping it well lit.

Mason had given her a key for the building, should she decide to use it, so Christina dug it out of her pocket and inserted it into the sturdy lock, almost losing her balance as she pulled the heavy steel door open. Immediately she knew she’d reached the pool, as chlorine-scented humidity reached her face, and began to warm her chilled skin. As soon as he walked in, a sensory light flicked on, illuminating the huge indoor pool area. It was an Olympic-sized pool, complete with painted lanes and diving platforms.

“Wow,” she breathed, truly impressed. She couldn’t imagine having such a delight at her beck and call every single day and night. Her physical therapist would have nearly wet herself at such a thing. She had gotten the blonde into a strict swimming regimen for her leg back in the early days. Christina had tried to keep up with it into adulthood, but with her crazy schedule, it wasn’t always easy or possible.

She made her way to the blue-painted door that said WOMEN on it, figuring it must be the locker room. Alex had said anything she could need would be found in there, and he wasn’t kidding! She found neatly folded stacks of towels and, strangely, wrapped bathing suits of every size. They were all new Speedos, never used. There was a receptacle in the corner which read: SWIMSUITS HERE. She looked own into the tall, plastic container to see a couple crumpled suits at the bottom of it.

“Odd,” she said, but shrugged. She was sorting through the shelves of new suits looking for her size when she stopped, hearing a loud bang deep in the building. It had sounded like the steel door banging shut from the outside, but it came from the other side of the locker room wall, not in the direction of the pool. Curious, Christina headed in that direction.

At the back of the locker room, near the showers she found another door, similar to that she’d entered from the swimming pool area. She pulled it open, finding herself in the chill of an ice rink. Like the pool area, when someone had entered sensory light had blazed on. She gave the rink a quick look over, finding beautifully maintained ice for sure, but also a small stack of bleachers at the back, and two double doors, which she assumed held the maintenance equipment. Her gaze was brought back to the ice itself, when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye.

A figure was moving onto the ice, designer leather boots scooting their way across the slick surface. Christine realized the figure was Farren Hankins. She wore a heavy winter coat, her hands tucked into the pockets as she walked along the ice, headed to the center of the rink. She pushed herself a few times, sliding along with perfect balance. Though the blonde smiled in slight amusement, Farren didn’t seem to find anything to smile about. Her face was sullen, eyes very sad. Christina couldn’t help but wonder what was going through the tall brunette’s head. What made her so very sad? It wasn’t only in her eyes, but seemed to radiate off her in waves.

Christina wasn’t sure what to do. She felt like she was witnessing a very private moment for Farren Hankins, and instinctually knew Farren would be angry if she knew the blonde was there. She felt a bit caught, as to go back through the locker room door would undoubtedly grab the figure skater’s attention, yet to stay would mean she’d been seen outright.

Damn.

She decided to stay where she was, risking the wrath should she be seen. After all, Alex Mason had given her permission – and a key – to be there, and she was leaving in the morning, anyway. To her immense relief – and slight surprise – Farren turned and walked back across the ice to step off the slight curb that rose to the carpeted walkway, then out the door which she’d come.

Left alone, Christina blew out a breath, then headed back into the locker room, swim laps calling her name.

~~~~~

Farren skated to the sultry tones of Never Tear Us Apart by INXS. The voice of Michael Hutchence echoing throughout the rink in Albertville, France. Her movements were fluid, the body of the seventeen year old beauty a vision of grace and poise. She used the sexy voice of the singer to flirt with her audience, toy with them. The audience was responding, getting into her long program, which would end in a condensed version of Michael Jackson’s Man In the Mirror.

Her program was ambitious, and by the end the entire crowd were clapping along, amazed as the blue-eyed beauty executed perfect jumps and spins, her long legs whipping her into a dizzying spin. She and Beverly had been working on her spins - which had been somewhat of a weak point – for months. Her adrenaline was pumping, giving her all to her performance. She felt pressure, as another American, Kristi Yamaguchi, and Christina Simms were slated to win, not Farren Hankins. She didn’t know Yamaguchi, but she did know Simms, and she had no intention of losing to her.

She finished with a flourish, a smile as wide as Texas on her face, knowing she had nailed it.

Christina was watching the TV monitors in the back, chewing on her lip as she watched brunette skate her heart out. She’d seen Farren skate at just about every competition the brunette had ever participated in, and she knew that Farren had never skated better. She was worried. She was very, very worried.

“You ready?” Sherry asked, a hand on the blonde’s shoulder. She had also seen Hankins’ performance, but didn’t feel it was prudent to talk about it before Christina skated. She knew Christina as well as the sixteen year old knew herself. She was terrified. She leaned in close to the girl, speaking in her ear so only Christina could hear her. “You go out there and you skate your heart out, honey. You’ve got the talent and the program to back you up.”

Christina listened to the words, allowing them to flow through her. She knew how much Sherry Duval believed in her, as well as her parents, who were out in the stands waiting.

“We’ve worked hard on this, and I know you can do it. You’re going to go out there and bring them crowd and judges to their knees. This is your night, honey. Your night, and your competition.”

Christina blew out a breath and nodded, loosening her neck and shoulders to get ready. She was next. She had a few minutes to get ready, as Farren’s scores were being called out.

Farren was sitting next to Beverly Michaels, the eyes of the world on her – as one of the young, new skaters to the Olympics – as cameras rolled and reporters shot questions at her in every language imaginable. It was all pretty surreal, actually. Beverly had talked to her earlier about the scores, and to keep as stone-faced as she could.

Her scores were shooting across the screen as a woman’s voice echoed throughout the rink in first French, then English. Farren’s heart was about to pound out of her chest as she saw 9.6, 9.8, 9.5, 10.0, which made her cry out, Beverly’s hand in her own. Then her heart sank when she saw an 8.7. The Austrian judge. There was a round of boooos in the rink from the audience at such a low mark. That would hurt her final marks deeply.

“Don’t worry,” Beverly whispered. “You still out-skated everyone here today.”

The words were little comfort, as her two main competitors had yet to skate.

Christina Simms was announced, and the blonde took the ice. In the past couple of years her body had hardened into quiet the powerful machine. She was known for her physique. She could out jump just about any female skater in the industry, even those with twice her experience. Some had started calling her the Little Bull, and she’d even been approached by those in the speed skating market.

Focused on her program and the new jumps she and Sherry had created together – all of which were incredibly risky – she got herself into the frame of mind she needed to be in to pull this off. She knew how well Farren had done, even if she’d been scored unfairly, and knew that Kristi Yamaguchi was still to skate. She skated to center ice and waited for her musical cue. Today she was going back to one of her favorite composures of all time: Andrew Lloyd Webber in one of her favorite shows of all time, Phantom of the Opera. She’d be starting off with the slower, Music of the Night and ending with the faster beat and more demanding Phantom of the Opera with Sarah Brightman and Michael Crawford.

Farren was chewing on a nail as she watched the blonde, her heart racing so fast she was barely able to make out the music choice. Though she and Christina Simms had been bitter rivals for more than four years, there was still something about the cute blonde that made her heart beat a bit faster. As Christina had grown into a woman, there was something about her. Actually, she’d always had that aloof air about her, ever since they’d first met when Christina was six years old, and scared to death. Though Christina was no longer that terrified little girl, she was still quiet, and held her cards very close to the vest. It was almost impossible to tell what she was thinking or feeling.

Farren, on the other hand, was quite the opposite. She loved the public and she loved the attention. She had no problem being open with her fans and critics alike. The only thing she had to be quiet about was… She glanced over at her coach, memories of what had happened the week before still making the young skater’s heart skip a beat, and her body react. Shaking those thoughts out of her mind, she returned her attention back to Christina Simms and her Music of the Night.
Christina was lost in the music, allowing it to take her and do with her what it would. She knew the program by heart, and knew there was nothing standing between her and that gold medal win. She was coming to the part where she’d launch into her first jump, which had been dubbed the SimmsDuvall, as she and Sherry had created it specially for this, the first of many Olympic games for Christina.

She looked around her, making sure she was far enough away from the wall and in place before she launched herself off on one powerful leg, spinning twice in the air, landing on one foot for just a second before launching off again in a three and a half spin and twist. While in the air she knew something was off. Terribly, terribly off. Panic clenched at her stomach as she was coming in for her landing. Wrong foot! Wrong foot!!

Sherry was standing at the side, and saw it coming. “Oh god, no,” she breathed. With the speed and inertia that Christina had behind her powerful launch, she knew this would be bad. She moved towards the gate, but didn’t step out onto the ice, hoping against hope it would turn out okay, even if Christina simply missed a step.

Christina’s left blade came down on the ice quick and off balance. Her foot tried to follow, but there was nothing to give her the support she needed. She came down – hard.

Farren gasped, her hand covering her mouth as the loud CRACK rent the air, followed by Christina’s cry of pain. She collapsed onto the ice, trying to curl up and grab her let leg, which had quiet obviously broken. Beside her, Beverly Michaels breathed a sigh of relief.

Sherry Duval was out on that ice like a rocket, skidding to a stop next to the crying girl. She fell to her knees. “Let me see, let me see!’ she demanded, moving the blonde’s hands away. Soon she was joined by the team doctor.

“Did she break it?” he asked, worry marring his wrinkled face.

Sherry nodded. “I think so.”

Pam and Joe Simms watched from the stands, Joe keeping a hand on Pam’s arm to keep her from running to her daughter. They needed to allow the doctor to get to her, not a Mama Bear. Pam’s heart was breaking for her daughter as she watched, tears beginning to cloud her vision.

~~~~~

though Christina definitely felt better after the hot tub soak, she still sat on the huge four-poster and massaged the aching limb. Winter time was so hard on it. After the disaster that was the 1992 Olympic games for Christina, she had lost all control of herself. She’d been in a cast for eight weeks, and then had to have months of physical therapy. Distraught that she may never be able to follow her heart’s passion again, she had gone out one night with a few fellow skaters, and they’d all gotten drunker than Christina had ever been before or since.

Eighteen years old. She’d been eighteen years old on that night. Too young to drink, and too stupid to put the life she felt was lost to her into perspective. Pam had begged her to be patient and have faith. No, no. Christina couldn’t have that.

~~~~~

Robbie Sanders – a medal-winning men’s figure skater - and his girlfriend, dancer Trista Reece were sitting in the backseat. Both were about as drunk as Christina was, all three passing a bottle between them. The driver, Davey Cummins was a downhill skier, top of his event. They’d all met in Albertville, and were delighted to know they lived in close proximity to each other.

“Gimme that!” Christina had demanded, grabbing the bottle of Jack from Trista. The blonde giggled as she tried to put the bottle to her lips, but missed, dumping the cold liquid down her shirt. The car broke out into hysterics. “Shit! Now I’m gonna smell like fucking alcohol!” Christina growled, trying valiantly, but without success, to wipe herself clean of the liquid.

Robbie laughed. “You already do, you dumb ass!” This, of course sent another round of laugher throughout the car.

Christina decided to give up and chuckled herself, finally bringing the bottle to her lips and taking a swig. She was far too gone to even taste the stuff anymore. Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she handed the bottle over to the driver. “Here ya go, Davey.”

The black man took the bottle and swigged from it, never taking his eyes off the road. He was just positive he was a good driver, and could get them all home. They’d started partying four hours before, hitting every bar within twenty miles. Christina had already tossed her cookies once, and Trista was getting pretty close. He glanced at the pretty redheaded dancer in the rearview mirror, noting that she was looking a little green around the gills.

“Hey guys,” he said to no one in particular. “Think maybe we should let up on the drinking?”

“Fuck that!” Christina snatched the bottle from him and took another swig before handing it over her head to Robbie, nearly dumping it in his lap. This was the first night in a very long time when she was able to forget about what had happened, and what she was likely going to lose.

Sherry Duval had gotten her back on the ice six months before and they’d started to train. By that time, Christina had been off for more than a year, and was terribly out of shape. She’d done fine, able to maintain most of Sherry’s demanding drills. When they’d begun to move on to jumps, Christina had landed wrong and had fallen to the ice, howling in pain and frustration. Sherry hadn’t been able to get her back since.

Tonight, she had decided she didn’t want to feel anymore. She didn’t want to feel the pain and loss, she didn’t want to feel the humiliation that had followed her since Albertville. She had been a walking zombie for the lion’s share of two years. Tonight she wanted to cut lose and tell the world to go fuck itself.

With that thought in mind, she grinned as she reached into the paper bag at her feet, which was filled with an empty bottle of rum, another empty bottle of Jack Daniels, and a full bottle of After Shock. She grabbed the frosted glass bottle and began to twist the cap off when she suddenly felt extremely dizzy and beyond nauseous.

“You okay, Tina?” Davey asked, glancing over at his passenger. Her face had gone completely ashen, her eyes glazed. “Hey. You okay?”

Christina dropped the bottle in her lap and grabbed for the paper bag, burying her head inside it as she emptied the contents of her stomach into it. As she did, Davey hit a bump, which sent her into the door, which no one had noticed wasn’t closed all the way, Christina far too drunk when she’d gotten into the car to realize it.

“Fuck!” Davey reached over to grab his friend and keep her from toppling out.

“Look out!” Robbie cried from the backseat.

~~~~~

Christina hadn’t cried over the accident in years, but as she sat on a lonely bed in Farren Hankins’ house, she found herself bawling into her hands. Two lives and a career had been lost that night. Davey Cummins and Trista Reece had never had a chance, as the driver’s side of the car had been sliced off by the on-coming semi in the other lane, which Davey had drifted into. Christina’s left leg had been shattered from foot to hip, and was now held together with a number of pins and metal parts. Amazingly enough, Robbie had walked away with only a broken collarbone and a concussion.

She tried to wipe at her tears, but more kept coming, which prompted her to get up and walk to the bathroom, burying her face in a Kleenex pulled from the box on the vanity top. She sat on the edge of the tub and just let the tears flow. The sooner she let them out, the sooner she’d be done with the whole emotional mess.

After awhile she calmed, a few sniffles finally quieting to nothing more than the sound of Christina blowing her nose. Her eyes burned and she felt incredibly tired, especially after a long couple days of traveling, the time in the water, and now her slight emotional breakdown. With a heavy breath, she threw away her small wad of tissues then padded into the bedroom to sleep.

*****

Farren made her way into the kitchen to see what Keppy was up to. Keppy had been her faithful cook for the past seven years. The woman knew what she liked, and knew how to make healthy foods taste utterly unhealthy.

“’Morning, Miss Farren,” Keppy said, moving her large size around the kitchen with surprising ease. “Breakfast for two?” she asked, as it was usually that way most mornings. She hadn’t heard anyone enter late in the night, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone.

“Yes, Keppy, breakfast for two.” Farren smirked, knowing full well what her cook was thinking, but she didn’t feel the need to correct her. It didn’t matter.

She headed into the small, informal dining area where they’d be eating breakfast. She was a bit nervous, as she hadn’t seen Christina Simms in quite a few years, and had talked to her in even more years.

She took a seat and smiled gratefully at Keppy, who brought out coffee and two cups with all the trimmings. She poured herself some and fixed it how she liked it. She waited patiently for her guest to join her. She’d been told that the blonde was up and around. Blowing out a breath, she sipped her coffee and waited.

*****

Christina had slept surprisingly peacefully throughout the night, and hadn’t been woken with her usual nightmares or night pains. That hot tub had done wonders for her leg. She quickly showered and dressed then made her way downstairs, phone in hand. She’d already called her mom to tell her the change in plans, and that she’d be headed to their house this morning. She’d also called for a car for herself, which was set to arrive in an hour. She figured she should at the bare minimum try and say goodbye to Farren Hankins, and to thank her for her hospitality of the night.

She made her way down the stairs, not even bothering to use her cane, she felt so good, and was met at the foot of the massive staircase by Alex Mason.

“Good morning, Christina,” he said with a shining smile. “Farren is waiting to have breakfast with you. Follow me.”

Christina did as asked, following the pudgy little man through the impressive house and into a small dinging area that sat in the middle of a massive bay window. A table with four chairs was set up there, though there was only places for two set out. Farren was already seated, sipping coffee and reading the morning paper. She glanced up when she heard Alex and Christina enter.

“Thanks, Alex,” she said by way of telling her agent to leave. They’d already had a heated talk this morning and she was still none too thrilled with him. The agent left with an apologetic smile to Christina, leaving the two former skaters alone. “Please have a seat, Christina. Breakfast will be here in a second.”

Christina sat, trying to not let on just how uncomfortable she really was. As she looked at the face of the seemingly-friendly woman sitting across from her, she couldn’t help but see the terrible sadness that had been in her eyes the night before. She studied Farren’s face for a moment, still seeing the kind seven year old in the face of a thirty-three year old woman.

Farren felt the intense scrutiny of those green eyes, and found herself having to look away. But why? She knew Christina had been called for to get Farren back into shape and back on the ice. Apparently – according to Alex Mason – Alex and Florence Hankins had talked, and decided it was high time the brunette got back on track. What she wanted to know, and what had ultimately made her angry was, who were they to decide she was off track?

At some point during her twenties, Christina Simms had become a coach in the figure skating world, and eventually one of the best coaches in the business. She had stuck mostly with the male skaters, for reasons Farren still wasn’t sure about, so they hadn’t had to face off too often during the years. All these thoughts brought her back to the reason she was sitting across from the blonde.

“Listen, Christina, I want to apologize personally for the inconvenience of you having to travel all the way here, only to find out that your services aren’t needed. As you might have guessed – or been told – I wasn’t the one who called for you. My wayward agent and mother did.” Her smile was small.

“Yes, I kind of figured it was something like that.” Christina smiled politely at the rather large black woman who began to bring in dishes of steaming foods. It all looked and smelled wonderful. “And, it’s not a problem. It’s happened before, and I’m sure it’ll happen again.” She shrugged, trying to hide her own irritation. “People change their minds.”

“Yes, but if I had been let in on their little plan, I could have saved you the time and trip. You will be compensated for your time and expenses, I assure you.”

Christina nodded. “That’s fair.” She followed Farren’s lead and began to spoon food onto her plate. “I’m sorry you were put into this position, Farren. It wasn’t fair to you.” Her voice dropped, a soft, soothing tone entering. “I can imagine things have been difficult for you since the death of Beverly. I truly do understand how a serious blow like that can profoundly affect you.” She met the blue gaze, which was guarded. “You’ve meant a lot to this sport since you were seven years old, and still do. If you ever decide to come back, you’d be welcomed with open arms.”

Deeply touched by Christina’s words, and somewhat feeling more guilty, Farren nodded, continuing to butter her toast so she wouldn’t have to speak for a moment. After a moment, after she’d gathered herself together, she spoke. “I wasn’t aware that you still coached.”

“I don’t.” Christina met the surprised gaze. “I retired last year. Had enough.”

Dark brows drew. “So, why are you here?” Farren indicted the room they were in. “I’m assuming Alex brought you in as a coach.”

“Yes, he did.”

“But, if you’re retired, why did you come?” Farren was utterly baffled.

Christina sat back in her chair, blowing out a breath. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I guess because I felt for your loss.” She tapped her cane on the side of the table. “I understand that kind of loss, and wanted to help.”

Farren was quiet for a moment, trying to battle with the inner war inside her. She was touched by the blonde’s words and compassion, but she’d made her choice. She had walked away from skating two years ago, and no one – including her mother or her agent, or Christina Simms, for that matter – was going to change that. She scooted back from the table, tossing her napkin on the table.

“There is a check left for you by the front door. You can get it on your way out.”

And with that, she was gone, leaving a confused Christina behind.

~~~~~

Christina lay in the hospital bed, the left side of her body from her hip to her toes, in traction. Her face and upper chest were road mapped with cuts from the windshield shattering, shards of glass digging into her skin. None of it mattered: the cuts, the bruises, the uselessness of her leg, nothing. Two people had been killed that night, and so had her career.

“Hey, honey,” Pam Simms said, entering the private room her daughter was in. She had brought a new nightgown plus some chocolate, which Christina could never say no to.

The skater glanced at her mother but said nothing. She returned her gaze back to the one window in the room.

This was nothing new, as Christina had been in an awake comatose state for three days, ever since she’d learned the outcome of the accident. Pam was terribly worried, but the hospital psychiatrist had advised that at this point, just continue to be herself, doing for her daughter whatever she would have done before. “Your dad went back to work yesterday. Everyone at the plant signed this beautiful card for you, and it’s waiting at home for you to read.”

As Pam prattled on, she walked around the narrow bed to the window, which had so much of the skater’s attention, and pulled back the curtains, allowing in the fresh sunlight.

“It’s such a beautiful day out!” Pam continued, seemingly unaffected by her daughter’s continued silence. She hadn’t heard Christina’s wonderful voice in three days, and it was very hard. “Maybe the doctor will let me take you outside for awhile-“

“I don’t want to go outside, Mama,” Christina suddenly blurted. “I just want to be alone.”

Pam – still facing the window – closed her eyes for a moment, trying to get her emotions back under control for a moment before facing Christina. “Tina,” she said softly, turning to look at her. “You can’t keep doing this to yourself.” She sat on the side of the bed, placing a hand on her daughter’s leg. “This wasn’t your fault, and your life isn’t over. You have so much still ahead of you. For you.”

Christina turned on her mother then. “I have nothing! Nothing!” She grabbed the chocolate and threw it across the room, the little pieces flying everywhere. “Get out! Get out!”

Tears in her eyes, Pam ran out of the room.

Christina was breathing hard as she was left alone, regretting her actions even as she was doing them, but unable to rein in her rage at the direction her life had taken.

~~~~~

Christina took a drink from the coffee she’d prepared, staring out at the falling snow that blanketed the backyard of her parent’s home in Littleton, Colorado. The family had moved from Colorado Springs to Littleton almost twenty years before, so they could be closer to Sherry Duval. It was either that, or Christina would have moved in with her coach, and her mother couldn’t let her only child go, and at only age eight.

She’d woken up early that morning, fully rested after returning to the family home the day before. She’d left Farren Hankins’ house not long after the brunette had made her hasty exit. No longer feeling comfortable or wanted there, the blonde had quickly eaten the food that had been prepared – more out of courtesy than actual hunger – and had happily entered her waiting car, giving directions away from the sprawling estate.

“Good morning, sweetie,” Pam said, coming up behind her daughter and giving her a kiss to the cheek. “Ohhhh, coffee!’ She hurried into the kitchen and got herself a cup, soon joining her little girl in the living room, where Christina had gotten settled on the couch, bare feet curled up beneath her. “How did you sleep?”

“I slept really great, actually. That feather-top mattress… mmm, mmm, mmm!”

Pam grinned, glad to see her daughter in good spirits. She dreamed of happiness for Christina. It seemed to her, and all that knew the blonde well, that ever since she was eighteen, happiness had eluded her. “Is this that special blend you always bring?” she asked, tapping her coffee cup.

Christina nodded. “Absolutely! I can’t got a morning without my Spanish roast.” They sipped in silence for a long moment, both enjoying the other’s presence. Christina had always been close to her mother, but over the years of her career, and injuries, Pam Simms had been there for her like no one else. She always felt a measure of guilt, as she didn’t know if her mother truly knew the depth of Christina’s gratitude.

“So,” Pam said at length, her heart heavy. “When do you return to Madrid?” Her daughter had been living in the Spanish city for three years, ever since her last job as professional coach. The job had ended, but the blonde had stayed on.

“Well, actually,” Christina said, staring into the creamy liquid in her mug. “I’m not positive that I am. Other than to close things up, that is.”

Pam stared at her daughter, afraid to be too hopeful. “So, what will you do?”

Christina nodded towards the windows, a white wonderland outside. “I miss the snow.” Her smile said it all, and she felt a wave of happiness at the look of understanding that crossed her mother’s face, even if it was cautious. “I’m not sure where exactly I’ll go – meaning whether I stay in Littleton, or maybe move to downtown – but I foresee some time here in Colorado.”

“I think that’s wonderful, sweetie. That makes me very happy.” She sipped her coffee to yet again, get her emotions under control. She was beyond thrilled, but didn’t want to scare her daughter off with that relief and excitement. She decided to change the subject, letting Christina bring the topic of her move back, should she wish. “So, what happened with this coaching job?” She hadn’t had much of a chance to talk to her daughter about it, once she’d returned the day before.

Christina rested her cup on her thigh, waving the question away. “It was a disaster. Basically, her agent had decided it was time for her to get back into the game, but the skater had other ideas.”

“Who was the skater? Anyone I know?”

Christina’s grin was full of mischief. “Farren Hankins.”

“You’re kidding me!?”

Christina shook her head. “Nope. I’m serious. She was kind enough o give me a room for the night. Mama, you should see that palace she lives in! I have to say: Sherry didn’t get me quiet the sponsorship that apparently Farren has.”

“What, because you weren’t the spokesperson for Nike?” Pam laughed, her daughter joining her. “That was never you, sweetie. That Hankins woman always craved and sought the spotlight.”

Christina nodded. “I know. I hated that part of things. That’s why it was always so much easier for me to live overseas. I was left alone for the most part. Any figure skating fans would be rooting for their own country’s champion, not some kid from the United States. Besides, it helped when I started coaching. My skater had to worry about it, not me.” Her smile was genuine but brief.

“Do you miss it?” Pam asked softly. “The excitement of an upcoming competition? Either you getting ready for it, or getting your skater ready for it?”

Christina thought about that for a moment, finally nodding. “Yes,” she said, her voice soft and wistful. “I don’t regret retiring, as I really don’t think I had much else to offer.” She blew out a long breath, looking into her past. “I think all my inspiration was washed up, you know?”

Pam nodded her understanding, bringing her mug to her lips for a small sip of the hot liquid. “I do.”

“But, at the same time…” The blonde’s voice trialed off as her frustration built. She looked at her mother, her eyes troubled. “I feel lost, Mama. I’m just not sure where I truly belong anymore. I mean, in college I got my degree in English, which was great, but now what? I had so many plans with academia, but then coaching came along, and that was that.”

“Have you thought about going back to school, honey?”

Christina laughed. “I’m thirty-two years old!” she exclaimed. “Hardly a kid anymore.”

Pam rolled her eyes. “Hardly an old woman, either, Tina. You’re still young, honey, with so much of your life ahead of you. Don’t you know by now that you can do anything you set your mind to? You’re so brilliant in mind and body. You’re beautiful.” Pam was almost exasperated with her daughter. Once skating was out of her life, it seemed like Christina had no more sense of her identity. “Skating isn’t all that you are. There’s so much more to you than that.”

Christina sighed, taking her mother’s words in, but needing to chew on them for awhile. “I don’t know,” she finally said. “I need to think.”

*****

Farren’s features danced with blue, read and yellow lights as the club lights bounced off the dancing bodies beneath them. It was a Friday night, and the downtown Denver club was hopping. She sat at the bar sipping her drink as she watched whose around her. She had come alone, not wanting to have fun with friends tonight. No, tonight she was on the prowl.

Her relationship with Beverly Michaels had lasted for fourteen years. During that time, and before that time, she had never been with anyone else. Bev’s death had been a shock to both her professional life and her personal one. Once she’d grieved for her coach and lover, she had realized that it was a relief to be out from under Beverly’s harsh control as a lover. A year ago, at the age of thirty-two, Farren had realized that there was a world of women out there, waiting to be explored. She had taken to the new turn in her professional life with gusto.

She hadn’t been in a relationship since Beverly for a couple of reasons. First of all, Beverly had been the defining relationship of her life thus far, and perhaps her entire life. Secondly, after the woman’s death, Farren had realized just how much control her coach had over her life. She had felt oppressed and inhibited, and hadn’t even realized it. She was still essentially immature when it came to love, only have the one experience to judge all love by. If the love she and Beverly had shared was what love was about, she didn’t want to do it again.

Her musings were interrupted when she saw a beautiful brunette making her way through the crowd, eyes on Farren like a shark circling it’s prey. Farren smiled, raising her drink in saluted acknowledgment. She’d found her fun for the night.

*****

The brunette – whom Farren found out her name was Brenda – was straddling the skater, the water in the hot tub sloshing as the stranger rode Farren’s fingers. Her back was arched, thrusting her breasts towards Farren’s face as the woman rode her pleasure to it’s climax, finally crying out.

Brenda finally came, laying a heated kiss on Farren’s lips before stepping out of the hot tub and padding naked to the locker room. The figure skater remained in the tub, eyes sliding closed in pleasurable contentment. She and Brenda had been at it for more than three hours, their sexual chemistry blistering. She was sated and tired, ready to send her lover-for-the-night on her way, and enjoy her nice, large bed all alone.

She realized that Brenda hadn’t returned after a long while, so decided to go searching for her. Climbing out of the tub, she grabbed a towel from the nearby rack and dried herself as she headed towards the locker room, which was empty.

“What the hell?” Her eye caught the connecting door which led to the ice rink. “Damn.”

Brenda’s laughter echoed throughout the arena as she slid across the slick surface of the ice. She’d dressed and put her shoes on, though her breath still blew out in white puffs. She giggled drunkenly as she fell to her butt, trying to scramble to her feet, but they wouldn’t cooperate as they kept sliding out from underneath her.

Farren watched for a moment, caught between amusement and irritation at, what she felt was an invasion of extreme privacy. There was no way that Brenda could know that, so she decided not to throw the woman out on her ear, which she wanted to do.

“Join me!” Brenda yelled when she saw her companion watching her. “Come on!” She finally managed to get to her feet, and much like a one year old trying to walk, she wobbled her way to the wall, offering a hand to the brunette.

After a moment of thought, Farren decided to join Brenda. But first, she hurried back into the locker room and grabbed her skates. Years of experience came back to her as she tied them perfectly, giving her ankles the strength and support they’d need while giving her feet and legs the freedom and movement they’d need.

It didn’t take long before Farren forgot Brenda was even there, sitting on the sidelines watching. She heard music in her mid, closing off from reality as her body began to flow across the ice, a picture of movement in grace. True poetry in motion. Farren so lost herself in what she was doing, she hadn’t even noticed when Brenda fell over in the seat she’d been in, exhausted from the dancing, alcohol and heated sex.

Finally, Farren skated to a halt, out of breath and her body howling at her. She was terribly out of shape, which was something she hadn’t given second thought to. After twenty-six years of rigorous daily training, she had enjoyed the break. But now, as she’d skated, jumped and spun her way across the floor, she realized that she hadn’t felt so alive in more than two years.

Wanting to be alone, she called and paid for a taxi to take Brenda safely home, ass he was still very drunk, and only half conscious of what was going on around her.

Alone in the big house, Farren made her way up to her bedroom suite, which included her home office, where she and Beverly used to plan programs and competition strategies. Now, unsure what she was doing or looking for, she turned on her computer and logged on. As she waited for the machine to do it’s thing, Farren walked over to the large windows that lined one entire wall of both her bedroom and the office. The security lights around the perimeter of her property turned the falling snow into pink dust, falling from the sky, only to lay a thick, pink-hued blanket on the ground. It was beautiful, and for one crazy moment, Farren wished she were out, dancing in it.

She sat in her desk chair, turning her attention to the computer that she’d turned on, still for reasons unknown to her. Taking the mouse in her hand, she moved it around the pad, the arrow dancing across the screen. Blue eyes studied the icons on her desktop, seeing if something would perhaps speak to her. It was there that she saw her Photo Album, a collection of pictures and video snippets from her long career in figure skating.

She skimmed through the pictures, most of which were taken by either her own hired photographers, or were taken from various publications. She stopped scrolling, her eyes fixed on a black and white that had been taken – according to the caption – on June 7, 2004. The thing that got her was she was nowhere in the shot. Instead, a male skater - again according to the caption - named Ted Mortenson, who was center frame. He was going into a sit spin when the shot was taken.

Farren was about to move on to the next picture when something caught her eye. In the background of the picture, off the ice, was Christina Simms, watching Mortenson, her bottom lip caught nervously beneath her top teeth. Her focus was intense as she watched the skater. Farren studied the picture, noting that though the picture had been taken four years before, the blonde coach didn’t look a great deal different. Her hair was a little longer when she’d seen her a few days before than it was in the picture, but that was about it.

Farren sat back in her chair, unable to take her eyes off the picture. “You telling me something, Bev?” she murmured with a sigh. “I think you are.”

*****

Christina wrote down the message and phone number from her third voicemail, intending to spend the afternoon following up on the calls. After that, she planned to drive around Denver, seeing if any place really called to her. If she found somewhere that did, she would look into buying a house. Her intentions were interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell. With both her parents at work, she was the only one home.

Making her way down the stairs, she glanced out the window next to the door to see a black Hummer parked out front. Knowing no one who drove one of the mammoth vehicles, she wondered who it belonged to. She soon got her answer, stunned to see Farren Hankins standing on the front porch. She blinked in surprise, not sure what to say.

Farren removed her sunglasses, smiling at the look of utter surprise on the blonde’s face. “Hi, Christina,” she said quietly. “I can see my showing up on your doorstep wasn’t expected.”

“You can say that.” Christina shook herself of her surprise and stepped aside. “Come in. It’s pretty cold out there.”

“That it is.” Farren crossed the threshold, glad to be out of the near sub-zero temperatures. She looked around, taking in the modest, but very nice house. Christina closed the front door, leaving them to stand in the foyer, staring at each other. “I’ve come to talk to you. Can we?” she indicted the living room, hoping perhaps they could sit.

“Sure.” The blonde led the way further into the house, bypassing the living room and heading into the kitchen where she had planned to get herself a cup of coffee. Farren accepted her offer of a cup. A few moments later, they were seated at the table for four, mugs in hand. It was actually very surreal for Christina, sitting in her parents’ kitchen, sipping coffee across from Farren Hankins. They had gone from potential best friends as children to mortal enemies, and then she’d been called in by Farren’s people to be the brunette’s coach. What a weird world.

“First of all, I’d like to apologize – again – for the mishap before.”

Christina waved it off. “Forget about it. A misunderstanding.”

“Well, yes… and no.” Farren looked at the blonde sitting across from her. Yet again she saw the black and white of the blonde looking on at her pupil. She had a flash of the tiny little girl she had been, sitting in a Burger King booth next to her mother. The child had been so quiet, so deathly afraid of everyone and everything. This woman, though still quiet, was filled with a confidence that made her physical beauty radiate.

“I don’t understand,” Christina said, confused by Farren’s words.

Farren sighed, trying to decide what the best way to say it was. Finally she decided to be blunt was best. “I’ve changed my mind.”

Christina looked at her, not saying a word. She wanted Farren Hankins to finish before she said anything or jumped to any conclusions. Besides, she wasn’t about to waste her time if this woman wasn’t completely serious about what she was asking, or dedicated to what she was going to do. In lieu of words, she sipped her coffee.

Farren grinned, looking into those remarkable green eyes that revealed nothing. She could sense that Christina Simms was a hard ass, and she respected that. “It’s been two years since I’ve stepped blade on ice, and even longer since I think I was fully into it, my heart, anyway. I was going to retire after Italy, but then Beverly was killed, and that was that. I gave up on my dream, and I gave up on myself.”

Christina set her cup down on the table, folding her hands in front of her on the table. She made sure Farren met her gaze before she began to speak. “Here are my stipulations, Farren. I was in retirement when Alex Mason contacted me. I need to know that you’re serious about this. I want you to outline everything that you’re asking me to do, and everything you’re willing to do to work for it.”

Farren nodded, taking a sip of her own coffee to give her a minute to think. “Alright,” she said, setting the cup down. “I want to get my career back. I want to fulfill that one promise to myself, and that was to win the gold. I want you to be my coach, Christina. The other night I dug up everything about you that I could, trying to understand why Alex had called you of all people. I mean, we were bitter competitors before… well, before…” her voice trailed off, as they both knew what happened. “Anyway, watching the programs you developed for not only yourself while you were still skating, but what you did for your skaters…” Farren’s eyes were bright with her excitement. “You’re brilliant, Christina!”

Christina wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t sure if Farren was simply blowing smoke up her ass because she needed a coach, or if she meant what she was saying. Yes, Christina was very good at what she did. She was known for inventing jumps and incredible programs for her skaters, all of which were fresh and inspired. She’d never had a skater that won less than fourth place at any event or Olympic game. Most of her skaters were winners, silver or better.

“As for what I’m willing to do, I guess whatever you need me to do. I listened to some interviews of your past skaters, as well as spoke to a few on the phone yesterday. You have a reputation as a hard ass, Christina. I won’t lie to you. They said you were downright difficult at time, incredibly demanding and not willing to give an inch.”

Christina smiled, looking down at her hands to hide the expression. She nodded. “Yes, that is true. They’re not lying, Farren. Can you take that?”

“Guess I’ll have to. I won’t lie to you, either. I can be just as difficult and very stubborn. I had Beverly Michaels as a coach for many, many years. She was the only coach I ever had, other than Sherry Duval when I was a kid. I don’t know how we’ll mesh, but I need this. I want this.”

Christina pushed away from the table, indicating Farren should stand, too. When the brunette was on her feet, Christina moved behind her, tugging her heavy pea coat from her shoulders, baffling the taller woman. Once she was standing before her in only jeans and a sweater, Christina moved all around her in a circle, looking her completely over.

“You are terribly out of shape, Farren,” she commented, eyeing the other woman. “You haven’t kept up with any of your training, have you?”

Farren was finding it very hard not to tell Christina and her assessment – no matter how correct it was – to fuck off. She hated feeling self-conscious, and that’s exactly how Christina was making her feel. She bit her tongue of what she wanted to say, and merely shook her head.

“No. I’ve not trained in two years.”

Christina sighed and sat back down in her chair, giving the woman a hard glance. “You’re thirty-three now, Farren. A little old to try and whip yourself into shape. We’ve got two years until the next Olympics, far less for Nationals. Will you do this/ Are you devoted enough to your sport to do this?”

Without hesitation, Farren nodded. “Yes. I am.”

“Alright. Then you’ve got yourself a coach.”

Disclaimers: This little tale is mine and all mine. 

Sex: Yes’m.  There will be sex in here, and you should know better than to ask if you’ve ever read my work before. J

If you’d like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com. 

Winning Touch

by

Kim Pritekel

Part 2

Christina was finishing packing her bags, her mother sitting on her bed.  Pam was filled with a mixture of disappointment yet utter glee that her daughter would be staying in town for at least two years if she finished the duration of her contract.  She watched the blonde move around her bedroom, tucking blonde hair absently behind her ear as she looked into her closet, deciding on what needed to go. 

“Guess it’s a good thing you never settled on a house, huh?” Pam said, trying to lighten up her heart. 

Christina smiled at her.  “Isn’t that the truth!  But, I guess I could live somewhere else and still train her.  But, I have to say, it’ll make my life a lot easier to be in the same place.  That way I can get her ass out of bed at the crack of dawn without me having to get up at midnight to get there.”

“True.”  Pam had a bad feeling about the assignment her daughter had just accepted, but wasn’t sure how to say it, or if she should say it.  “I still can’t believe Farren Hankins hired you to coach her.”  She shook her head in amazement. 

“I know.  I guess we’ve both come full circle.  We both want to retire from the sport where we met.”  Christina sat on the bed next to her mother, her leg beginning to ache.  One definite plus about living at Farren’s place would be the nightly dips in either the hot tub or the Jacuzzi.  It had done wonders for her with just one soak the night she’d stayed there. 

“I guess you have.”  Pam looked at her daughter, reaching up to touch her soft hair.  “Are you sure this is what you want, honey?” she asked softly. 

Christina thought about the question for a moment.  She could sense her mother had some concerns about it, which in all honesty, she did, too.  Finally she nodded.  “Yeah.  I think this is the right move for me.  It’ll be strange coaching a woman, but I want to do this.  It will be a good way for me to finally go out and leave this all behind me.” 

~~~~~

It had taken nearly six months for Christina to be functional after the accident.  She was still on crutches, the damage so extensive to her leg and hip, but she was bound and determined.  She’d applied for college, and now at age nineteen, was a Freshman at DU in downtown Denver.  That had been three years ago, and now she was finishing up her English degree. 

Sitting in her advisors office, she waited for the woman, Dr. Littman, to show.  She could hear the woman’s voice from down the hall, the high-pitched tone hard to miss.  She was talking to someone about her son and his attempt at playing hockey.  The two conversationalists stopped right outside the open doorway of Dr. Littman’s office door and finished their conversation. 

“I’m tell you, the kid has got two left feet.  His coach suggested maybe putting him in dance for a few months, see if he can get some coordination, but Jason just about pulled Stewart right out of hockey at that one!”

The woman the professor was talking to – Christina didn’t recognize the voice – laughed at that.  “Oh, I’m sure he did!  Okay, Lily, I have to go.  I’ll catch you after my American Lit. class.” 

“Okay.  See you, Laura!’  Lily Littman hurried into the office, her bird-thin body that way because the woman never sat still for more than five seconds.  “Good morning, Tina!” she chirped, flopping the stack of papers she’d been carrying to her desk top.  “Sorry I’m late.  Got caught up making copies.”  She patted the stack for emphasis.  “How are you?” 

“I’m good.”  Dark brows drew.  “What’s wrong with Stew’s skating?” 

Lily rolled her eyes.  “What isn’t wrong with it?  The kid is eleven and can’t seem to skate straight to save his life!  Me and his dad are so frustrated, though I doubt hardly as frustrated as Stewart is.” 

The blonde smirked.  “Poor coach.”

Lily was about to respond, but then stopped, looking at her student.  She stared so long that Christina began to feel uncomfortable.  “Oh my god,” Lily Littman said, covering her mouth with her hand, eyes still glued to Christina.  “Why did it never cross my mind before?”

Christina looked all around her, making sure nothing was dangling from her nose.  “What?” 

“You could teach him, Tina!”

Green eyes grew wide, Christina shaking her head.  “Oh no.  No you don’t.”

“Yeah!”  Lily placed her palms flat on the desk.  “Tina, honey, you used to do this professionally.  If anyone could make my son skate, it’s you!”

“Dr. Littman, I can barely walk, let alone skate,” Christina protested. 

“I’m not asking you to teach him how to do a sour cow, or anything.”

Christina burst into laughter, tears running down her face.  “That’s salchow, Doc.”

“See?  I can’t even say the stuff, let alone help Stewart with it.” 

“But, he’s playing hockey, not figure skating.”

“It’s the same thing, Tina.  Little metal blades on the bottom of boots, sliding around on ice.  You can teach him balance and how to stay upright on those tiny little blades.  His own coach can teach him the rest.”  They stared at each other, green eyes unsure and narrowed, brown pleading.  “Puleeeezzzze?  I’ll make sure you get an A!” 

They both knew Lily Littman was kidding about that, but Christina understood the depth of her pleading.  She sighed.  “Alright.  I’ll help him.”

“Oh, thank you!’  Lily jumped up from her desk and hurried around to the blonde, giving her an enthusiastic hug. 

And so it had begun.  Christina had graduated, but it was more a formality then anything else.  She’d soon had clients coming out of the woodwork.  Her situation had been pretty similar to Sherry Duval’s, in that she had taken on a class of students, but had found one that was a star in the making.  She’d taken the boy to new heights, coaching him for three years before moving on to another student, and on and on until she’d become a well-known and well-respected coach in the skating community.  Until she’d left it three years before. 

~~~~~

Farren cursed Christina with every breath.  She was hurting, and hurting bad.  It had been more than a year since she’d run a mile, let alone five!  She was twenty-three pounds overweight from her last competition weight, and she swore the coach was trying to get her to lose it all in one month!  Her lungs hurt, her legs burned, her feet her, even her ass hurt!

The only thing that kept her going was that Christina could run five miles, and that was with her leg being held together by Tinker Toys.  At least the blonde had been kind enough to allow her to start with a measly two miles, and they’d worked their way up from there.  Still, it sucked. 

She saw Christina just up ahead, a green and white ski cap covering her short, blonde hair, wisps flying out with the winter wind.  Farren’s glance moved down to her coach’s shapely behind, which moved nicely beneath the black track pants she wore.  She had to admit, Christina Simms had grown into a fine-looking woman, especially considering the little shy imp she’d been as a kid.  Definitely fine-looking. 

Christina could hear the heavy breathing of her skater a few feet behind her, which made her shake her head in disapproval.  She couldn’t understand how a life-long athlete could stop her training.  Even if she weren’t training for her sport anymore, she should at the bare minimum be training to keep her body in tip top shape.  Had she no self-pride? 

Christina had been living in the palatial house for a month, starting training from morning one, and had heard many things about Farren Hankins, and her notorious nightlife.  Apparently she’d taken home far more women than competition wins.  This, of course was something that Christina intended to change right away.  If Farren were serious about her sport, and about reclaiming what was hers, the womanizing would have to stop.

That thought made the blonde’s thoughts screech to a halt.  Women?  Since when was Farren Hankins into women?  It had always been the rumor that the beautiful brunette was quite the prude, and not really into anyone at all.  Christina smirked, amused at just how well the secret had been hidden.  After all, the only person she’d ever been seen with was her coach, Beverly Michaels. 

Christina stumbled, an image hitting her square between the eyes.  She fell to one knee – luckily not on her bad leg – then fell over onto her butt, panting from the exertion of the run.  Had Farren and Beverly been a couple the entire time?  It sure would explain why Farren’s reaction to Beverly’s death was so hard. 

“You okay?” Farren panted, stopping next to the blonde, hands on her knees.  She looked the other woman over, looking for any visual indication of what had happened. 

Christina nodded, feeling stupid.  She brushed her cap off her head, running a hand over her hair.  “Fine.  Just tripped.”  She took Farren’s offered hand, getting to her feet, only to wince.  She’d managed to twist her ankle when she’d gone down.  “Damn,” she muttered, limping over to a tree to lean against.  One thing she did love was the acres of wooded property around Farren’s estate. 

“Do I need to call a doctor?  Is it your bad leg?” Farren was certainly concerned, but in truth, she was grateful for the reprieve.  She’d had a late night last night, and the run was kicking her ass this morning. 

Christina shook her head.  “No.  Just twisted my ankle.  Go ahead and finish, I’ll meet you back at the house.” 

Farren sighed, but said nothing.  She continued on her way, once again cursing the blonde with every breath. 

Christina was cursing her ankle as she hobbled her way back towards the house in a sort of hop/run that hurt like hell.  Luckily they had nearly finished their run so she didn’t have far to go.  She was half-frozen by time she got back, the heat from the run worn off, leaving behind the frost of the thirty-one degree weather.  She was shivering, as she was hardly dressed for a stroll, and went straight to Keppy, begging for a cup of coffee. 

Mug in hand, she wandered – more like limped – into the large living room, where a magnificent fire was already dancing, warming the spacious room.  Intending to sit and enjoy the warmth, Christina’s attention was drawn to the mantle and all the pictures on it. 

Sipping her coffee, she limped over to them, making her way slowly down the row, thinking in her mind that she really should go put ice on her ankle and wrap it, but her attention was fully caught by all the pictures of Farren and her former coach at various points in the brunette’s career.  First wins.  First competitions.  The picture that caught her eye, however was one of the two women standing at the bottom of a snow-covered mountain, bright smiles on their faces and ski poles in their hands.  The picture somehow seemed far too intimate for just a coach and her skater, or even long-time friends.  There seemed to be a certain … knowing about the two women, toward each other.  She was about to take the picture from the mantle to look at it closer, but the front door opened, and Farren blew in with the wind and cold. 

Guiltily, she turned away from the pictures and towards her skater, who was stomping her feet on the rug, trying to get all the snow off them.  Her cheeks were red, her breaths coming hard and fast.  Farren glanced up, meeting Christina’s gaze. 

“I hate running,” she muttered, then headed off towards the stairs. 

Christina smiled, amused.  “Me, too.” 

***** 

Christina’s idea of training was intense, pushing the body and mind to their outer limits, and never, ever quit.  Beverly had focused more on Farren’s height and grace, turning her into a ballerina on ice.  That wasn’t Christina’s idea, at all.  She wanted to use Farren’s height and strength to her advantage, and build on it, not bring it down, creating a beautiful swan.  Leave that to the stage. 

“Come on, Farren!” she shouted, clapping her hands together.  “Push it!  Faster!”  She glanced down at her stopwatch, disappointed in the results.  “Stop!” 

Farren skated to a halt, her chest heaving, hair –pulled back in a ponytail – plastered to her head.  She was frustrated and more than a little angry.  That little blonde bitch had been pushing her nonstop for three months.  She’d shed just about all the weight, with only five pounds to go.  She was weighed daily, and Keppy had been instructed on the better ways to feed the ravenous brunette, making sure Farren had the calories and protein she needed without the sugar and fat she craved. 

“Why the fuck am I doing this?” Farren blurted, her temper finally blowing after three months.  “I’m not a fucking hockey star, Christy!”

“You’re not a delicate little goddamn swan, either, Farren.  If you want to win – which you hired me to help you do – you do it my way!”  The blonde was standing at the edge of the ice, green eyes blazing.  She wouldn’t tolerate laziness, and Farren had been out of discipline for too long.  She could tell by the fire in the brunette’s eyes that she had not yet fully made her point yet.  “Do you want to do this or not?  I mean, I can leave you right now.  You can go right back to your drinking, whoring ways, and drop from the history books in this sport.  Your call.”  She stood her ground, arms crossed over her chest as the tall skater skated over to her. 

“Who the hell are you to tell me what my lifestyle should be?”  Farren was furious.  She’d only had two women in the past month, which was driving her nuts.  Too much pent up energy from the ruthless training regime she was being tortured with. 

“As long as I’m your coach, I’ve got a pretty big say, don’t you think?” Christina asked, sarcasm dripping from her voice.  She wasn’t at all surprised by Farren’s outburst.  In fact, she’d been expecting it for about a month. 

Farren knew she was right, but it still pissed her off no end.  Instead of answering, she pushed off the ice and took off around the rink.  If Christina wanted good times, fine, she’d give them to her. 

It took the blonde a moment to realize what her temperamental ward was up to, but when she caught on, she clicked the stopwatch, watching as the seconds ticked by, Farren roaring by in a blur of movement and speed.  Christina grinned, very much liking what she was seeing.  Maybe she’d have to piss off the skater more often! 

Farren raced around the rink, murderous thoughts in her head after every pass.  She could hear Christina cheering her on and yelling words of encouragement, but it didn’t matter; Farren heard none of it.  She was angry, and finally decided she’d had enough. 

Christina watched as the skater made a beeline for the locker room, stepping off the ice and slamming through the blue locker room door.  Amused, and feeling slightly guilty, Christina stopped the time on the stopwatch, marked the time down in her notes, then plopped down on a bench at the side of the rink.  She sighed heavily, looking out onto the sea of ice.  She’d coached many athletes in her twelve years as a coach, and had a myriad of experiences with them all.  Some were wonderful and so grateful for her expertise that they hung onto every word she said.  Others were pretentious little assholes who she couldn’t wait to get away from.  Farren was somewhere in between, she suspected. 

The problem was, Farren Hankins had been an athlete her entire life, and had been a successful professional skater for a good majority of it.  Now, at age thirty-three, she was already set in her ways, and resented a new approach.  This was a fairly new situation for Christina, and one that she didn’t relish.  She questioned herself almost daily of why she’d come out of retirement for this. 

Setting her clipboard and stopwatch on the bench beside her, she made her way over to the ice, stepping onto it’s slick perfection.  Farren had fresh ice daily, which was wonderful.  She playfully slid a few feet before continuing her stroll, hands tucked into her pockets.  Christina knew their training was over for the day, which was fine with her.  Maybe she’d head into town and catch a movie or something. 

As she looked around the large space, memories came flooding back to her.  She had spent so much of her life on ice, whether it was for her own career or that of others.  Ice under her feet was as comfortable as hardwood flooring.  Even so, she hadn’t put a pair of skates on in more than eight years.  As she’d been working with Farren over the past few months, she was beginning to feel a bit wistful, wondering if maybe she should dig her old pair out of storage. 

***** 

Farren stood at the bar, sipping her drink when she felt two hands slide from behind and rest on her newly-flattened stomach. 

“My, my, you’ve managed to get even sexier,” a low woman’s voice said at her ear.

Farren grinned, turning her head to except the kiss she knew was waiting.  “Be nice and don’t torture me,” she said.  “I’ve got training at the ass crack of dawn and can’t stay out late.” 

Lorraine Hammond grinned, moving around to a stool next to the skater.  “Your loss, I must say.”  She ordered a wine and looked Farren over.  “You look fantastic, Farren.  This new coach of yours is quite literally working your ass off.”  She ran a hand over the area in question. 

Farren smirked, removing the wandering hand.  “I’m a few pounds away from my old competition weight.” 

“And it shows.”

“Well, what can I say?  The warden is tough.”

Lorraine laughed, deep and throaty.  “You’re a trip, Farren.  The warden.  Such a baby.” 

Farren rolled her eyes, but was glad to see her friend.  They’d been friends with occasional benefits for about a year.  “Thanks for meeting me.  I appreciate it.” 

“Sure.  I was glad you called.”  Lorraine sipped her wine, studying her friend.  She could tell Farren was bothered by something.  “You called me here for a reason, and if you have to be back into the coup early, it’s obviously not for a tumble.  So what’s the problem?” 

“It’s that damn woman!” Farren exploded, slamming her empty glass on the bar.  “She’s driving me nuts, Lorraine.  All she cares about is training, training, training!  Up at ass crack, bed late.  Working my ass off.  For what?”

Lorraine chuckled.  “For what you’re paying her for.” 

Farren stared at the redhead for a long moment, irritation bright in her blue eyes.  “Who’s side are you on?”

“Come on, Farren,” Lorraine said, not answering the question.  She slid off the stool and grabbed the brunette’s hand.  “You asked me to go to dinner with you, so let’s go to dinner.” 

*****

Christina made her way through the theater, moving with the sea of fellow movie-goers.  She munched on that last of her popcorn as she did, anxious to get out into the fresh, early-spring air rather than inhaling the smells of humanity.  She had stayed for a double feature, and was getting tired, as her normal bedtime was two hours ago.  Still, she was in good spirits. 

Though she’d never in a million years tell Farren this, she was glad the brunette threw her fit and took off because it gave Christina a much needed break, and a night to go out and enjoy herself.  The only low point about the evening was she had gone alone.  That was by no means odd behavior for the blonde; she was actually quite the loner, and dating or friends had never been much of a priority to her.  But, for some reason, tonight she had wished she had someone sitting next to her in that theater.  Well, other than the teenage girl who kept getting text messages every five minutes. 

Broken free from the restraints of the crowd, Christina strolled out into the cool night, deciding to walk along the sidewalk as the theater was situated in a strip mall.  Maybe she’d do a little shopping.  Or, at the end of the complex was a Ruby Tuesdays.  A late dinner, maybe? 

Farren was walking next to Lorraine, who was chatting on and on about her day working as a massage therapist, which was how they met.  Farren was only partially listening as they made their way down the strip mall towards the Ruby Tuesdays.  Her mind was on someone else.  A someone that was walking right towards them. 

“Shit,” she muttered, slowing the pace of Lorraine. 

“What?” the redhead asked, looking to Farren for the problem.  She followed Farren indicating nod, only to see a beautiful little blonde walking towards them, the woman’s green eyes locked on Farren.  “Wow.  Who is that?”

“Christy Simms.” 

“No kidding!  That’s your coach?  Jesus, she’s hot as hell!”

“Yeah,” Farren said noncommittally as the blonde approached. 

Christina sighed, knowing there was no way she could avoid talking to Farren without being a totally rude bitch.  She managed a small smile.  “Hey, Farren,” she said.

“Hi.  Out for a walk?” Farren asked, wishing she could duck into the restaurant.  She was extraordinarily proud of her earlier behavior, and had hoped for a night of reprieve from the woman. 

“Saw a movie,” the coach said, nodding back towards the theater with her head.  She glanced over at the beautiful redhead who stood next to Farren.  The woman was looking Christina up and down, making her feel like the redhead had her in mind for a menu item.  Uncomfortable, she returned her focus to Farren.  “What are you up to?”

Farren shrugged, nodding toward Lorraine.  “We’re going to get some dinner.”  She felt obligated, “Care to join us?”

“Oh, uh, no.  Thank you.”  Christina smiled politely.  She didn’t like the way Farren’s friend kept looking at her, and knew that sitting across from her at a table would be quite unpleasant.  “I’m headed home.” 

Farren nodded, relieved.  She needed some time away from training.  “Okay.  Well, see you later.” 

“Okay.  See you in the morning.”  She gave both women a quick smile then hopped off the curb and into the parking lot, taking the long way to get to her car.  Once she got in, she sat behind the wheel, inserting the key into the ignition and starting the engine.  She sat there for a moment, glancing over at the restaurant, where the women had long since disappeared inside.  She thought back to the meeting moments before.  Seeing Farren standing there next to that attractive redhead made her feel strange. 

She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, chewing on her bottom lip.  What was it that she was feeling?  Who was that woman?  Farren hadn’t even introduced them, not that Christina really wanted to know her, considering how the woman had been looking at her.  Those looks made the blonde think that Farren’s friend was probably also a lesbian.  Were they lovers?  A couple?  No, from what she’d heard, Farren liked her freedom far too much to get into a relationship.  She did, however still want to ask about her and Beverly.  Maybe she could ask Keppy. 

The longer she sat there, the stronger the feeling she was having got.  The trouble was, she still couldn’t discern what the feeling was.  Frustrated, Christina backed out of her space and headed home. 

*****

Lorraine had talked Farren into heading home with her to have a drink and talk before she headed to her own house.  They had talked a bit over dinner, but mostly Lorraine had talked, Farren half-listening.  Her mind had been on seeing Christina, and her reaction to that.  As much as she wanted a break from the training, and coach, for a moment, she had wished it were Christine that had been going to dinner with her, not Lorraine. 

“Baby?” Lorraine said, noting that her friend was miles away.  She reached  hand up, caressing the side of the angular face.  “What’s going through that beautiful head of yours?” 

Farren leaned into the touch, wanting to get any thoughts of Christina out of her mind and simply lose herself in physical touch.  She grabbed Lorraine at the back of the neck and drew their mouths together. 

*****

Christina turned around, jogging backwards as she watched Farren struggle.  The brunette looked exhausted, her eyes bloodshot.  She was slow and sluggish, and Christina felt she knew exactly why.

“Come on!” she barked, “Get your ass in gear!” 

Farren glared at the blonde through the dark lenses of her sunglasses.  She wasn’t sure who to curse more: herself for staying so late at Lorraine’s, or Christina for making her train at the ass crack of dawn.  “Doing the best I can,” she panted. 

“Not good enough,” Christina growled, angry.  She’d heard heavy footfalls pass by her door three hours before, and knew then that it was Farren, finally finding her way home.  She just knew the brunette had been with her friend, doing god knew what.  It made her angry.  Angry at Farren’s irresponsible nature, and the way she was handling the situation.  It was clear the skater wasn’t taking her training seriously, nor her final goal: winning the gold.  Goddamn it!  Why am I so angry? 

Instead of trying to answer that question, Christina turned around and continued her run, satisfied to hear Farren picking up her pace. 

Farren was confused.  Why did Christina Simms get on her case so badly?  At first she had thought it was simply that she was a tough coach.  That may have been part of it, but something was niggling at the back of her mind.  It seemed like Christina was particularly unpleasant this morning.  Granted, Christina had seen her out on the town with Lorraine the night before, so she likely figured the brunette had a late night, which Farren had said she wouldn’t do during training, but still…  What was her problem?   They needed to talk.  This partnership would never work for two more years, if Christina couldn’t get her attitude under control. 

Disclaimers: This little tale is mine and all mine.

Sex: Yes’m. There will be sex in here, and you should know better than to ask if you’ve ever read my work before. J

If you’d like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com.

Winning Touch

by

Kim Pritekel

*****

Part 3

Christina had had a tough night with her leg, so hadn’t ran that morning. She had been extremely pleased to look out her bedroom window and see Farren hoofing her way around the property: on time, and with large amounts of energy. Five months into training, the brunette was making the five mile run easily – when she gave it a true try, that was. Which, she had done that morning.

The coach had taken her time, learning long ago not to force her leg into submission, because she’d always lose. So, she’d taken a long, hot bath and had done her best to massage the beast, but it had helped only minimally. She wasn’t sure what the problem was, considering it was late spring, the temperatures were beautiful. Maybe it was spending all her days in a cold ice rink. She needed to find a good massage therapist, is what she needed.

Farren had continued to awe and amaze her that morning, as when Christina arrived at the rink, Farren was already on the ice and working her graceful way around it. As Christina watched – Farren still unaware she had an audience – the blonde realized just how truly beautiful the skater was. Her dark hair was pinned up on top of her head in a messy bun, and her long frame was dressed in simple track pants and sweatshirt, but even still, she was the picture of beauty and grace. No wonder the public had fallen in love with her so much during her glory years.

They were finally getting into planning their program. Farren had a competition coming up in three months, which would be her first since she’d walked away from the sport after Beverly Michael’s death. Christina was confident that Farren could handle it, it was just a matter of them finding some way to make a truce to get there without killing each other.

Farren was lost in her own head, just allowing her body free movement and flow. She’d had nine full hours of hard sleep the night before, and felt wonderful. She was rested, and filled with energy. Sleep: what a concept. After a few moments, she realized she wasn’t alone. Glancing over to the other side of the rink, she saw Christina standing at the wall, elbows leaning against it, watching her. She hadn’t had an audience for awhile, and deep down she had to admit, she liked Christina watching her. She could feel those green eyes following her as she moved across the ice. It gave her confidence, and made her feel bold. Suddenly – to both their surprise – she launched herself into a triple toe loop, landing with perfect grace.

Christina was delighted, immediately exploding into applause. It had been a beautifully executed jump, which gave her great confidence in that perhaps Farren still had all her abilities in tact.

Giving an exaggerated bow, Farren skated over to her coach, grinning. She didn’t know where that jump had come from, as she hadn’t done anything like that in almost two years!

“Bravo!” Christina exclaimed, finishing her applause.. “Very nice, Hankins.”

Farren stopped at the wall, resting an arm on it. “Thanks, Simms.” She chuckled. “We sound like a law firm – Hankins and Simms.”

“Yeah, or a pairs duo.” They both smiled, glad to have a bit of the last month’s tension reduced a bit. Christina sobered. “That was beautifully done, Farren. I’m impressed and more hopeful.”

“More hopeful!?” Farren balked “What, did you think I couldn’t pull off a simple triple toe loop?”

Christina rolled her eyes, both knowing the jump wasn’t ‘simple’. “I wasn’t sure how limber you’d remained.”

“Oh, after all the yoga, weight-training and stretching you’ve had me do, I’m quite limber.”

Christina felt a bit of a surge wash through her at Farren’s tone. It made her uncomfortable for a moment, until the warmth dissipated. “Well, I started drawing up some ideas for new jumps for you.” She shifted the bag she had slung over her shoulder, so she could grab her ever-present pad of paper. She showed the brunette a few of her drawings and ideas.

“Those are really great,” Farren said, examining the entire layout of a brand new jump that Christina had designed just for her. Suddenly she remembered something. She stepped off the ice and sat on a bench, untying her laces to replace the skates with running shoes.

“What are you doing?” Christina asked, wanting to get started on the new routines.

“Come with me.”

Christina was led beck to the main house and up the stairs to Farren’s bedroom. Confused, the blonde followed without comment. She was led through the large bedroom suite, which was gorgeous. Her gaze was drawn to the massive wooden bed at the center of the room. It looked like something that belonged in a King’s bedroom, not that of an ice skater. The bedroom furniture in the set that matched the bed was just as incredible.

Farren walked to her home office, confident that Christina would follow her. “Beverly had a friend create a program for her,” she explained, turning on her computer. “It was a great help when we were planning new programs.”

Christina looked around the home office as Farren talked and booted up the program on the computer. She saw a series of framed pictures hanging on the wall above the leather couch. She was amazed at just how many personal pictures the brunette had in her house; somehow Farren Hankins hadn’t struck Christina as a sentimental type. There were, however lots of things about the skater she was discovering to pleasant surprise.

“Is this Frisbee?” she asked, smiling as she took in the picture of the adorable nine year old Farren playing with a happy black lab in a park.

Farren glanced up from her computer to see which picture Christina was talking about. “Yup.”

“I never did get to meet him.” Christina grinned at her skater, chuckling as Farren rolled her eyes. “He was cute.”

“Yeah, he was. Sadly, he was killed about three months after that picture was taken. He decided that chasing a garbage truck was a really good idea.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Christina wandered back over to the desk, sitting in a chair across from Farren. “So, if you and Beverly worked on your routines in here, why did you put your home office in your bedroom?”

“Well, at night before we went to bed, it made it easier to-“ Farren cut herself off, realizing what she’d said, and was about to say. “Shit. I just gave myself away, didn’t I?”

Christina grinned, nodding. “I already suspected, so you pretty much just confirmed it.” The blonde leaned forward in her chair. “How long were you two a couple?”

Farren sighed, sitting back in her chair. She couldn’t believe she’d taken Christina’s bait. “About fifteen years.”

“Wow. That’s a really long time.”

“You have no idea.”

Christina was curious by that comment, and the dry tone of voice in which it had been delivered. “What do you mean?”

“I mean basically that I was a young kid, very impressionable, and very willing to be controlled.”

Christina nodded. “I’d heard she could be that way. They say a controlling nature is what makes a good coach.” Her grin was met with a hard look from Farren. “I’m kidding! But seriously, I’d heard that about her. She could be difficult.”

Farren nodded. “Yes, she could. Now, I’m not trying to sit here and demean her memory or anything. It’s just that …” Farren thought for a minute, trying to decide what was the best way to put it “It’s just that I was young and didn’t know any better, I guess. That first relationship, the one that eventually comes to define you, you know?”

Christina nodded, though she wasn’t entirely able to understand. She’d never been in a relationship in her life. Her life and time had been dedicated to her sport, then school, then coaching.

Oblivious to Christina’s thoughts, Farren continued. It actually felt good to talk about it. She’d never been able to before, because it was the best kept secret in the skating world. “I remember early on in our training, Beverly was so nice to me. She could be tough, but overall, it was like she never wanted to hurt my feelings or make me doubt myself. But then, as I got older – into my teens – things began to change. She got tougher and far more hands on. I didn’t understand why. I mean, here was this woman, twice my age and married, who I started to feel this strong bond with. Eventually I realized I was sexually attracted to her.” She chuckled. “Even then, it took a pretty hot dream to make me realize it.”

Christina laughed as well, able to appreciate that. She had had few friends in her life, mostly because she was a true loner, but also because of what her life had been since she was six years old, she was unable to relate to most people. They were married, had kids, or were simply had boyfriends or girlfriends. They talked about their relationship highs or lows, meanwhile an embarrassed Christina was able to give little to no input whatsoever. She always felt a bit left out. She’d never regretted the way she’d lived her life, but sometimes….

Farren pushed back from the desk, the skating program forgotten. “Do you like wine?”

Christina blinked, startled by the abrupt change in subject. “Um, yes. I do.”

“Excellent!’ Farren, excited, hurried from the room, leaving Christina to ponder the sudden change in events. It seemed today they were going to be friends. Within moments Farren returned, two wine glasses and a chilled bottle of Camelot honey wine from the Rocky Mountain Meadery. “This is the best wine ever. It’s made here in Colorado. Do you like sweet wines?” she asked as she poured a glass for the blonde.

“Yeah. I prefer them, actually.”

“Well, then you’re in luck.” Farren handed over the glass filled with the amber liquid then poured her own. “Tell me what you think.”

Christina took her first sip, pleasantly surprised by the sweet taste. “This is really good.” She reached for the bottle, looking at the label. “Is it a very expensive wine?”

Farren shook her head, sitting on the leather couch. “Nah. About thirteen bucks a bottle. But I love it.”

They were quiet a moment as they sipped their wine. Christina moved from the chair at the desk to the leather recliner that matched Farren’s couch. “This is so nice in here. Do you use that very often?” she asked, indicating the fireplace tucked into the corner.

“All the time in the winter. The main reason we bought this house was because of all the fireplaces all over the place. I’ve got one in my bedroom, in here, the living and family rooms –“

“In my room –“

“In your room. I love it.”

“It’s a beautiful house, Farren. You’ve done really well for yourself,” Christina complimented.

“Thank you. And thank Nike and Yoplay.” Farren grinned, raising her glass to all the sponsors she’d had over the years. “What about you? Why did you retire, and where did you go?”

Christina sighed, cupping her glass between her hands in her lap. “Well, I retired because I just felt I didn’t have anything else to give. I wasn’t connecting with the kind of students I used to. So, I settled in Madrid Spain for a little while, until I got the call from Alex Mason.”

“What made you take his offer?” Farren sipped her wine, very interested in the answer to her question.

Christina shrugged. “I couple reasons, really. For one: it got me back to the states, which I’d been contemplating off and on for a year or so. Two: I was curious why on earth you, of all people, would want me to be your coach.”

Farren smirked. “I didn’t.”

Christina grinned, recognizing the teasing tone in the brunette’s voice. “Yes, I know. And I know you still regret it to this day, but that’s okay If nothing else, I’ve whipped your ass back into shape, and have gotten you ready for wherever else you want to go.”

Farren nodded vigorously. “That you have!” Again, she raised her glass in salute. “To the meanest coach I’ve ever had!”

Good-natured, Christina tapped her glass against Farren’s. “To the laziest skater I’ve ever had.”

Farren broke into laughter, grateful for the tension between the two to be gone for once. She could tell Christina was still holding herself back, but slowly the blonde was letting her hair down.

“So, about your routine-“ Christina began, about to set her wineglass aside. Farren stopped her.

“No. We’re finally playing nice. Don’t ruin it with talk of work.”

Christina was amused, and a small part annoyed, but decided to push that side away. “God forbid we talk about work.” Christina took a drink of her wine. “Fine, and so be it.”

“Good choice.” Farren sat back in her chair, getting comfortable. “So what about you? Did you leave some guy back in Spain?”

Christina rolled her eyes. “That would be a no.”

“Really? Sounds like a story there.” Farren leaned forward in her chair, the strong wine beginning to slightly warm her senses.

Whereas the brunette – more used to drinking – was getting warmed senses, Christina – who rarely to never drank – was beginning to feel the full affects of the honey wine. She set her glass down, needing a small break. “Wow, that’s strong.” She cleared her throat. “No story, I promise. I don’t really date.”

“Why?”

“Well, to be perfectly honest, I haven’t found a guy yet that wasn’t a complete idiot.”

Farren broke into laughter once more, loving the candid way Christina saw and spoke things. She nodded in agreement. “Yes, I do know what you mean.” They were silent for a moment. “You have dated though? Right?”

This was the part Christina hated. She never knew how much to tell, or how far to take the conversation. She could give a very easy answer and be done with it, but then she’d be lying, and she wasn’t comfortable with that, either. She sighed. “A little.”

Farren studied her, knowing there was more to it than that. She waited a moment to see if the blonde would continue. When she didn’t, Farren knew she would have to dig. “What does ‘a little’ mean?”

“It means I – for some reason – accepted a couple invites here and there, but it never really went beyond a date or two.” She shrugged, feeling her defenses creeping up. “Just wasn’t my thing, I guess.” She looked down into her near-empty wine glass. “It just didn’t do anything for me.”

Farren could see how uncomfortable Christina was, and suspected the reason why. Christina had never been with anybody. Farren wondered if she’d ever even kissed before. Deciding to drop the subject, she brightened for her next question. “So, what did you get your degree in?”

Eternally relieved and grateful, Christina brightened as well. After all – academia was her second passion. “English. I wanted to continue on and get my masters and PhD, but the skating world got in the way.”

“Do you think you’ll ever go back?”

“Oh, yes! That’s what I was doing in Spain. I’d already started classes.”

Farren looked at her for a moment. “How odd. Something you’re so passionate about – school – yet skating interfered a second time. Why?”

Christina thought about it for a moment, never having really thought of her current situation that way. “Jeez, you’re right. I don’t really know.” She drank the last little bit in her glass and set it aside, kicking off her shoes and curling up in the chair she sat in. “I guess skating and the skating world is a bit like a siren song to me. It’s always calling, and I guess I always have to answer.”

“Will you ever be able to ignore it?” Farren asked softly.

Christina smiled and shook her head. “I don’t know. I’d like to think so, but it’s such a huge part of me. It has been for the majority of my life, so…” She shrugged again. “I think after we’re done here, I’ll finish my education and move on from the sport. I’ll always love and cherish it, but it’s no longer my world.” She patted her leg. “I don’t fit in very well anymore.”

“Do you still skate? Ever? Just for fun.”

“Not much. I can only do so much before my leg starts to ache.”

“Which reminds me. How is it going with Tanya?” Farren asked, referring to the massage therapist she’d introduced Christina to a couple weeks before.

“She’s great. Been very helpful.” She absently massaged the side of her thigh, down by her knee. Her problem child.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“I really appreciate it, Farren. Thank you.”

“Anytime.” Farren gave her a most charming smile.

*****

Christina felt a wave of giddiness wash through her as she finished tying on the boot of her skate. Making sure it was nice and tight, and everything was solid on the skate, she put her foot down, testing the stability of the blade. Satisfied, she pushed to her feet, the blades on her feet as natural to walk on as anything.

The ice had been freshly done earlier that day, the perfection of the surface glinting in the light. Stepping gingerly onto the surface, Christina was mindful of how her leg was feeling. She’d had a good session with Tanya that afternoon, and felt strong and capable. She glided out to the center of the ice, just enjoying the sensation of moving and the cold against her face and hands. She did a couple experimental spins, nothing too hard, before moving faster. She did a couple laps around the oval rink, coming to a flushed stop, her heart pounding with the exertion and excitement of being on the ice again.

*****

Farren saw the light on in the large building, though to her surprise, it lit the side with the ice, not the swimming pool. She continued on her way towards it, intending to get some good practice in.

*****

Christina could hear the music in her head, could feel the adrenaline pour through her. Even some of her old routines – created by her and Sherry – came to mind. She knew she was limited in what she could and should do, but could still see them clear as day in her mind’s eye. She wished she had that kind of freedom again, but what she had would have to do. She gathered her speed and went into a one-handed Biellmann spin. She could feel the air parting for her, the cold rushing across her body, even as she began to heat up.

Coming out of the spin, she tested her leg, grateful she’d always done her spins on her right leg. She leaned back until she was in a full Layback Spin. She had to cut it a bit short, as her right leg began to burn from the exertion, her body unused to using those particular muscle groups anymore. She was breathing hard, but god it felt wonderful!

Christina gasped in surprise when she felt two hands suddenly rest on her hips, and a tall body behind her own. “Skate with me,” Farren said softly. “Just follow my lead.”

Unsure, but deciding to trust her, Christina followed along, virtually reading Farren’s mind as they moved across the ice, constantly making eye contact, much like a dance, so they could read their partner’s intent.

Farren had skated pairs for two years in her early teens, that is until she decided she hated it and went back to singles. But it all came back to her as she led the blonde across the ice, their bodies in perfect sync. They fell into a matching pair of Side-By-Side Shotgun Spins, their speed immense. As the spin slowed, and they finally fell out of it, they grinned at each other, but not stopping.

Christina took Farren’s extended hand, their feet moving together in harmony as they shot across the ice. Together they slowed, Farren moving in behind Christina, once again taking hold of her hips. She could feel the brunette’s body heat behind her, pressed into her own, and it made her heart jump out of her chest. She wanted to lean back into the warmth, but forced herself not to.

Farren, for her part, was losing herself in the blonde. She leaned down, able to smell the freshness of her shampoo, mixed with her sweat. The softness so tempting. She urged Christina into a slow, two-foot spin, which the blonde executed beautifully, Farren watching the grace and beauty of her body.

Christina eased out of the spin, finding herself in Farren’s arms. She rested her hands on the brunette’s shoulders to steady herself, warm hands resting on her lower back. She looked up into Farren’s eyes, so utterly beautiful. Christina was losing herself, and had no idea how to stop it.

Farren was already lost in a sea of green as she lowered her head, brushing soft lips with her own. When she wasn’t pushed away, she met Christina’s lips again, this time leaning in a bit more for more solid contact. When the blonde sighed softly into the kiss, Farren pulled her a bit closer, easing any space between them.

Christina eased her hands up along Farren’s shoulders and finally up around her neck, enjoying the soft warmth that was filling her entire being, just from Farren’s kiss. As the kiss deepened, and she felt the softness of Farren’s tongue against her own, she found herself going to a place where she’d never been. She’d never known passion, never felt true desire. Until that moment. Realization began to filter in around the pleasure, sending a cold trickle of fear down her spine.

Farren’s hands slid from Christina’s lower back down to the tight ass beneath the track pants. She took a firm hold, pulling the blonde deeper into her. Her own passion was building to a level that she had never experienced. Never in her life had she wanted someone so much as she wanted Christina Simms in that moment.

She was startled from her desirous thoughts when suddenly Christina pushed her away, nearly sending her sprawling on her ass. Christina looked at Farren with accusatory eyes, her own fears turning into anger, which she lashed out at Farren. “I’m not one of your women,” she said, her voice hard as she tried desperately to hide the tremble within it.

Farren was stunned and hurt as she watched Christina skate off the ice, and hurry off towards the locker room. She had no idea what had just happened. How the hell had they ended up kissing? How the hell did she end up skating with Christina? And finally, why the hell did Christina take off!?

“Fuck!”

*****

Christina hurried up to her room, tears flowing down her cheeks. She honestly had no idea why she was crying, or why she was so upset. Angrily, she swiped at her eyes, only to find more tears taking their place.

“What the hell is wrong with me?” she muttered, walking over to the window. She looked out in time to see Farren’s car speeding down the driveway. This, of course, just served to make her even more angry. Irrationally so, but angry all the same.

Without another thought, she grabbed a bag and shoved a few things into it, then headed out to her own car. She was still wiping away tears as she climbed behind the wheel and got the engine started.

“What is wrong with me?” she growled, frustrated. Hands on the wheel, engine idling, she thought back to the moments on the ice. She’d been fully enjoying herself and the freedom of being on skates again. Her leg had been fine, and had held up better than it had in a long time. Tanya had the winning touch, that was for sure. Apparently so had Farren. She thought about the way the other skater had touched her – so gentle and kind. Almost… lovingly. They had skated together as though they’d been doing it for years.

Her eyes closed as she once again felt Farren’s kiss. So soft. So tender. So filled with the passionate desire Christina had craved her whole life, but had never found, nor – for some reason – really looked for. Her eyes opened, a vivid green from the tears. Why had she allowed it to happen? Why had she allowed Farren Hankins to get closer to her than most? What was it? What was it about her? It had been wonderful. Christina had almost felt ashamed by how her body had responded to the brunette’s touch. She had felt like a reckless teenager in the back of a parked car: total lack of control and caring as restless hands groped and windows steamed.

“But that wasn’t what it was,” she whispered, shaking her head to ward off her own negative thoughts. “She wasn’t treating me like that.” Deep down, Christina knew her true problem hadn’t been the fact that Farren had kissed her, but more the fact that she desperately feared becoming just one more in Farren’s pot of women. She flat refused that fate. “I won’t let her use me, too,” Christina said, her resolve returning in full strength. She put her car in gear and headed off the property.

*****

Lorraine finally gave up trying to say anything and resigned herself to sitting on her couch and watching her friend angrily pace and rant.

“I’m telling you, Lor, she is the biggest bitch! What the hell was that supposed to mean? ‘I’m not one of your women’. Huh? I don’t get it.” She ran a hand through her hair, which was all over her head from the other four hundred times she’d done that very same, agitated move in the past hour.

Lorraine kept quiet, not sure if maybe this time the question wasn’t rhetorical, or if Farren actually wanted an answer. She figured the later must be the case, as Farren plopped down on the couch next to her and looked at her with sad, blue eyes. “Can I talk now?” the redhead asked, a brow quirked.

Farren nodded, blowing out a breath, unable to see the amusement in her recent actions as her mind was totally taken up with anger and hurt, all aimed directly at one beautiful little green-eyed blonde.

Lorraine began to speak, her voice soft and non-accusatory, as she had some not-so-nice things to say. “Farren, you’re not exactly a woman who keeps women around. Hell, even I know that, because you come around here when you want to, and don’t stay.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words. “First of all, you said she’s straight. Second of all, she may not be into the flavor of the month, thing.”

“But she’s not!” Farren exclaimed, jumping up from the couch again. Her brows drew when she realized what she had said.

“So, what is she?” Lorraine asked softly, knowing the answer in her own heart. She’d never seen the brunette so upset or hurt before. Certainly not over a woman. She knew the two skaters clashed in many ways, but she honestly felt it was more out of the tension of heightening emotions, rather than simply not getting along, or not seeing eye to eye.

“Shit.” Farren ran her hand through her hair one more time, the hair now becoming frizzy from her repeated actions. She thought back to moments over the past months. Hell, moments over the past years. She’d always thought Christina was beautiful and supremely talented, but early on, the two had been taught to not like each other, as they were the other’s greatest threat.

She walked over to the window, looking out into the night sky. She could see the blonde before her mind’s eye. The look in the green eyes had matched Farren’s own emotions. Want. Desire. Need. Christina had wanted her to kiss her. Just as much as Farren had wanted to. So, what had been the problem?

Lorraine watched the brunette, her own heart breaking in her chest. She’d always hoped somewhere inside that Farren would see her for her true feelings. It hadn’t happened, and now it looked as though it never would. Farren’s heart – which Lorraine felt was terribly obvious – now belonged to Christina Simms. She chuckled softly.

“You know what I find horribly amusing and ironic in all of this?” she asked. Farren turned away from the window, giving her friend her full attention. “We’ve fallen into one of those ridiculous lesbian novels you always pushed me to read.” She sat back on the couch, letting out a breath.

“How so?” Farren asked, leaning back against the window, arms crossed over her chest. “And you hated those.”

“Still do, but I did read a few,” Lorraine admitted with a smirk. “Here I am: the friend who is in love with the main character, but will never have a shot because said main character has fallen in love with someone else. Namingly, Christina Simms.”

Farren stared at her for a moment in stark shock, though she wasn’t sure which admission she was more shocked about. “You’re in love with me?” she asked finally.

Lorraine rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t matter now, Farren. You are in love with your coach. Again.” She smirked at yet more irony. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’m not in love with her, Lorraine,” Farren said, sitting down on the couch next to the redhead. She looked at her friend, not entirely believing her words, but somehow the thought of being in love with Christina just didn’t feel right. “That just seems extreme. I don’t even know her that well. She doesn’t let me get close enough to know her.”

“And I think that is one reason why you’re so drawn to her.”

Farren looked at her, confused. “I don’t get it. Explain.”

Lorraine turned on the couch so she was facing the brunette. “Alright, maybe ‘in love’ is a bit strong, but damn close. Every time I’ve seen you since Christina has been at your place, you do nothing but rant about how much she drives you crazy, and how you don’t understand her.”

“She does. Lorraine, we’re nothing alike. She drives me crazy because I don’t understand her. I don’t get what makes her tick, and why the hell she doesn’t like me!” She jumped up from the couch and began pacing again.

Lorraine studied her, amused. “Honey, are you listening to yourself?”

Farren stopped pacing, looking at her friend, but not seeing her. She replayed back in her mind what she’d just said. … and why the hell she doesn’t like me! “Shit.” She grabbed two handfuls of her hair and sighed. “Shit.”

*****

Pam sat with her daughter in the backyard, each with a glass of iced tea in their hands as they looked out into the warm evening. Christina had been fairly quiet since she’d arrived on their door an hour before. Something was wrong, Pam’s maternal intuition buzzing like mad. Reaching out, she tucked a few wisps of hair behind her daughter’s ear.

“Want to talk about it, sweetie?” she asked softly. The obvious tear tracks on Christina’s face had alarmed her when she’d first seen the younger blonde, but she knew better than to pry before Christina was ready to talk. It had been an hour, and Christina’s silence was indicative that she was mulling her troubles over in her mind. It was becoming safe to ask.

Christina sighed, sipping her tea. She’d been enjoying the safety and comfort of her mother’s presence since she’d arrived. Some might say she had an unusual attachment to her mother at the age of thirty-two. But, she didn’t think so. Pam had always been more like a friend than her mother – though she certainly had the mother thing down – and Christina had always felt more compelled to confide in the older woman than any friends she might have, which weren’t usually high in number.

“We had a …” Christina’s voice faltered. A what? What do you call what had happened? “fight,” she finished lamely.

“Honey, is there ever a time when you two aren’t fighting?” Pam ran her fingers through her daughter’s soft hair So thick. She’d always admired and envied Christina’s beautiful, blonde hair. The day she had cut it had broken Pam’s heart. “Maybe this isn’t the right job for you.”

“She kissed me,” Christina blurted, surprised at her own candor. She hadn’t intended to say anything, merely to escape to her parents’ house for the night to cool off. As the silence stretched on, she was afraid to see her mother’s expression. Though Pam had done nothing but always support her on any and everything she did, this one was a doozy. Finally she met her mother’s gaze.

“What happened?” Pam asked gently. She could see that Christina was just as surprised as she, herself was at this change in events. Pam had always wondered why her daughter didn’t date, or at least rarely did, and certainly nothing to any sort of fruition, as far as she knew.

Christina sighed, brining her legs up to tuck against her chest. She set her tea aside and wrapped her arms around her shins. “I was skating, just letting myself go with it. Oh, mom,” she sighed, closing her eyes as a wonderful peace filled her. “It was so amazing to be on the ice again. God, I loved it.” She remembered the feeling of freedom, warmth spreading through her until her memory was invaded by the sight of Farren’s face. Her eyes opened and she stared out at the backyard. “She joined me,” she continued, her voice growing softer. “We skated together. It was truly beautiful.”

Pam listened to the words, trying to listen for the meanings between the lines. It was a talent she’d become very good at, as her daughter rarely just came out and said it, no matter what ‘it’ was. She waited for more.

“And then it just happened.” Christina sighed, resting her head back against the back of the glider, looking up into the night sky with all it’s brilliant stars.

Pam sipped her tea then set the glass aside. “Is that what has you so upset?” Pam asked, trying to find the source of this issue.

“In a way.” Christina looked at her mother. “I don’t know, Mom. I enjoyed the kiss. Very much. But somehow it just felt wrong.” She paused, trying to figure out exactly what she was trying to say. She’d spoken to her mother before about Farren’s extracurricular activities. “I told her I didn’t want to be just another one of her women.” She looked at her mother. “You know, used then tossed aside to make room for the next.”

Pam was trying to wrap her mind around what she was being told. IF she was reading Christina correctly, the problem wasn’t in the fact that Farren – a woman – had kissed her, but more in that Farren was a bit of a playgirl, so to speak, and her daughter didn’t want to end up as another in a long line. If that were true, she realized, then that meant Christina had no problem with the sexual nature of Farren’s actions. What did that mean then? She knew that was something to be dealt with at another time. Right now, her daughter needed her to stay on course and be there for her.

“Did she say or do anything to make you feel that you would be just another of her women?” Pam asked.

Christina shook her head. “No, actually. She was very gentle, but still… I know what she’s about, Mom. Why on earth would she see me as anything but a bit of fun for the night? We don’t even like each other, let alone anything else!”

Pam smiled. “I’m going to tell you a story. When I was going into third grade, the first day of class our teacher wanted us all to sit around her on the floor. Being the good girl that I was, I wanted to sit next to the teacher. I was about to sit down when this little pain in the ass boy in cowboy boots and a ridiculous cowboy shirt flies past me and sits exactly where I was about to sit. I was enraged!”

Christina was amused, but had no idea what cowboy boots had to do with anything. “Okay,” she said, confused.

“For days I hated that kid. He had made me so damn mad, I thought I would never forgive him. Eventually we became friends. I realized that in ways I was strong, he was weak, and where he was brilliant, I was lacking.”

“Mom, I love you, but why are you telling me this?”

“The boy was your father, Christina. I’m trying to tell you that things happen in strange ways. Ways that at the time may not make a lot of sense, but in the grand scheme of things, it all makes total and perfect sense.” She shrugged, “Maybe there’s something to all this with you and Farren.”

Christina looked at her mother like she’d swallowed a bug. “Are you trying to tell me that all this fighting has been the prelude to a marriage with a kid and house in the suburbs?”

Pam smiled. “No, not necessarily. All I’m saying is, since the two of you not only kissed, but enjoyed the kiss, there may be more to this than just two women who don’t mesh. And, as far as how Farren treats women, I want you to take one thing into consideration.” She waited until she knew she had her daughter’s full attention, which she had. “From what you’ve said, and what I know of that type of personality, they’re going to sleep with people who don’t matter in the picture of their life. A stranger, or casual friend. Do you think she’d want to chance harming her relationship – as tenuous as it is – with her coach? She’s a beautiful woman, Christina. She could probably go out and get whoever she wanted.”

Christina thought about that for a moment, looking back out into the night. She let it roll around in her brain for a bit, trying it on for size. It made sense. “That’s very true,” she said at last. She let out a heavy sigh, turning back to her mother. “So, are you saying I really overreacted, and have made a big deal out of what should have just been what it was: a sweet kiss that came from being caught up in the moment?”

Pam shrugged. Personally, she didn’t think it was that simple. She knew her daughter, and if Christina hadn’t wanted it at a deep level, she would have left Farren flat on her ass on the ice, a red hand print on the side of her face. “Maybe,” she said. It wasn’t her place to get Christina to understand. The younger blonde had to figure it out for herself.

Christina blew out a breath. “Okay. Damn. I owe her an apology.” She pushed up from the chair, stretching out her body before turning to her mother, who had also stood. “I should go, Mom. I need to talk to her, and I don’t want this to fester any longer than it already has.”

Pam accepted her daughter’s hug, then bade her a good night.

Continued…

Disclaimers: This little tale is mine and all mine.

Sex: Yes’m. There will be sex in here, and you should know better than to ask if you’ve ever read my work before. J

If you’d like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com.

Winning Touch

by

Kim Pritekel

(Sorry for the delay in part 4. Real life got a little nuts for awhile – KP)

Part 4

*****

Christina pulled herself up to the edge of the pool, arms resting on the tiled edge. She had been doing laps for more than two hours, and her body was letting her know exactly how it felt about such abuse. Exhausted, she pulled herself out the rest of the way and padded to the locker room, water falling from her muscular, compact frame.

She grabbed the towel she’d left on the lounge chair on her way, drying off her face. It had been two full days and nights since the ice skating incident, and Farren had yet to make an appearance at the palatial estate. When Christina had arrived back at the house from her parents’ home, she had been disappointed – though not terribly surprised – to find Farren hadn’t yet returned. Then she’d thought maybe it was good because it gave them both a bit more time to cool off. When the skater still hadn’t returned by the next day, Christina was just plain hurt. Then angry. Then worried. Then indifferent. Now, it depended on the minute by minute thought.

Showered and dressed, Christina made her way to the main house, sighing as she looked around. Spring was in full bloom, heading on into summer, and it was gorgeous. It would start getting hot soon, which she didn’t look forward to. She headed into the house and up to her room, oblivious to Farren’s car, which crept up the long drive.

Christina stood at her mirror, brushing her hair back away from her face, turning her head this way and that, looking at her skin and eyes. They were blood-shot from the lack of sleep she’d had over the past couple of nights. She had a bad feeling in her gut, and wasn’t quite sure where it stemmed from. All she knew was something was about to happen, and she had the feeling she wasn’t going to like it.

She walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom part of the suite. She was about to grab the doorknob to open her door when she stopped, startled as there were footsteps directly on the other side of the closed door. They stopped, and Christina could tell someone was standing directly in front of her door. She waited a breathless moment, wondering if there would be a knock.

Christina decided to play it cool, hurrying back into the bedroom to find something to do. To make it look like she was busy, and was not in any way waiting for Farren’s return. Finding a book, she plopped down on the bed, arranging herself to look as though she’d been there for hours. She was ready. No knock. Instead, the footsteps moved away from her door, and down the hall towards Farren’s bedroom.

Irked, the blonde hurried over to the door, staring at it as it had done something wrong. “Why the hell am I playing to passive/aggressive?” she muttered to herself, feeling like a child. She threw her door open and hurried down the hall to find that, sure enough, Farren had returned.

Farren walked over to her bedroom window, pulling the curtains open when she felt the presence at her bedroom suite door. She turned to find Christina standing there, her expression unreadable.

“You missed training,” the blonde said, folding her arms over her chest and taking a casual stance.

Farren nodded. “I know. I’m sorry. I needed to get away for a couple days. Think.”

Christina studied the exhausted-looking brunette for a moment, then noticed something. She felt a stab of jealousy rip through her. “I see. I hope you got a lot of thinking done.” She turned and headed back to her own bedroom.

Shocked, Farren nearly followed when she realized that Christina had been looking at something on her neck. She hurried over to a wall-mounted mirror. “Fuck!” Bright as day, a large, very angry-looking hickey peeked out of her shirt collar. She ran out of the room, stopping once she reached Christina’s open door. Her heart fell when she saw the blonde calmly loading clothing into an opened suitcase on her bed. “What are you doing?”

“This isn’t working, Farren,” Christina said, her voice soft, defeated. She continued to lay her clothing in the large Samsonite when a warm hand rested on her arm.

“Wait. Please don’t go. I can explain-“ Farren blurted, desperation marking her voice.

Christina gently removed Farren’s hand, her smile gentle, yet very sad. “You don’t have to explain anything, Farren. You don’t owe me anything. What you do is your business.” Even as she said the words, she couldn’t allow herself to look at the brunette, knowing she’d see that damned hickey again if she did.

“Then why are you going?”

“Because this has been a disaster from the beginning.” Christina stopped packing and looked into Farren’s face. “We’re very different, Farren, which though may not be a crime, it makes for a very difficult working relationship. I’m tired of fighting with you. I am mentally and emotionally exhausted, and I’ve only been here a few months!” Her green eyes pleaded for Farren to understand. “Imagine a year from now. Two years.”

Farren sighed, knowing that Christina was right. She sat down on the bed, deflated. “Yeah.”

Christina continued to pack, her heart so heavy she thought it would fall right out of her chest. She also needed to get a rein on her feelings. Somehow they had gotten out of hand, and she wasn’t comfortable with it. She hated feeling jealous, and didn’t understand where it was coming from. Farren slept around, and would continue to do so. Was the blonde supposed to just wait for when Farren decided to get serous about her training again? All the while ignore the hickeys and late nights, and pretend it didn’t bother her?

“Where will you go?” Farren asked quietly. “Back to Spain?”

Christina shook her head. “No. I think I’ll hang around for awhile.” She sighed heavily, caressing the cashmere sweater that she held in her hands. She felt so lost. “Maybe finally finish my degree.”

“I hope you do.” Farren looked down at her hands for a moment, wanting so badly to cry. “Listen, I’m going to go.” She stood, swallowing several times to keep her emotions under control.

“Alright.” Christina was hurt, but didn’t dare show it. She held out a hand to the taller woman. “Good luck to you.”

Farren looked down at the blonde’s hand, such an impersonal gesture. She grabbed the smaller woman instead, holding her in a tight hug. Christina’s eyes slipped closed as she felt herself completely enveloped by Farren’s warmth and essence.

“Take care of yourself, Christy,” Farren whispering, remembering the nickname she used to call the blonde when they were kids, and still friends. Before competition and coaches had gotten in the way.

“You, too,” Christina said, returning the hug fully. “You are so talented, Farren.” She pulled away just enough to look up into the brunette’s face. “Don’t let that fall away.”

Farren smiled and nodded. She could feel her eyes beginning to sting, unshed tears giving serious threats. She quickly let go of Christina, and hurried from the room.

***************

The last few students had left the classroom, eager to start their Christmas break after a challenging semester in Christina Simms’ class. Christina finished wiping down the dry erase board and shoving her books into her backpack. She was also looking forward to the break, though she wouldn’t have much of one. She planned to spend as much time with her mother as she could.

In the past year, since the diagnosis for Pam’s cancer, she’d gotten weaker and weaker. It had been a valiant fight, but part of Christina was terrified the battle was soon to be lost. She wanted their family to have the best Christmas possible, since it was likely it would be Pam’s last.

Christina pushed those thoughts aside, as she’d had a long time to attempt a reconciliation between her mind and heart. She knew the day would come soon when she’d have to face the true realities of losing her mother, which would be far too soon, considering Christina was only thirty-five. But, it would happen. For now, she tried to live each day as fully as she could, and be there for her mom and dad. Joe Simms wasn’t handling his wife’s sickness well. They knew Pam was terminal, and Joe couldn’t imagine his life without her. It broke Christina’s heart to watch him slowly fall apart.

The day was beautiful, as snow had fallen all night. The roads were slick and dangerous, but the scenery more than made up for it. Tonight she planned to take a drive around her neighborhood to look at Christmas lights. But first, she headed to her parents’ house. It was nearly four in the afternoon and her mom had to take her pills by four-thirty. Christina’s dad had changed the hours at his job to nights so he could be there with Pam during the day, then Christina took over when she left the community college she was teaching at to be there in the evenings. Once she got her mom tucked in for the night and made sure she had everything she needed, Christina headed home, a promise extracted from Pam that she’d call her daughter were she to need anything, no matter what time.

“Hey, Mom,” the blonde said, giving her mother a kiss on the cheek.

Pam had herself situated on the couch, her doo rag slightly askew. “Hi, honey,” she said, giving her daughter a weak hug. It was hard for her family to see her, especially those who didn’t see her every day like Joe and Christina. She had become so incredibly thin and frail. Her hair was long gone from chemo, and she looked gaunt. “I taped Oprah for you today.”

“Why?” Christina asked, sitting on the recliner next to the couch. “I hate talk shows.”

‘I know, but there was a program on there that I thought you’d like to see.” She winced slightly as she adjusted her position on the couch. “It’s over there, on top of the VCR. Your dad labeled it for you. Don’t forget to take it with you tonight.”

“I’m not going home tonight, Mom. I’m on Christmas break.”

“No.” Pam shook her head. “You’re going home. You have a house, so use it.” Pam could see the hurt in her daughter’s eyes, and realized that the older woman’s good intentions had gotten lost in her physical pain. She took her daughter’s hand, her eyes softening. “Honey, you have your own life outside of all this,” she indicated the sea of pill bottles and equipment that would help Pam get up and move around. “You don’t need to be around all this sickness all the time.”

Christina sighed, nodding. She hated leaving every night, so afraid she’d get a call in the middle of the night that her father would find her mom dead when he got in from work at midnight. “Okay.” Somewhere inside she did understand that her mom did want some time alone. Some time to feel normal. “I will.”

“Good.” Pam patted Christina’s hand before letting it go. “Maybe you’ll find yourself a boyfriend,” she said, a small smile on her pale lips.

Christina rolled her eyes. This was a discussion they’d had a million and one times. She knew that no matter what she said, she’d never be able to convince her mother that she was fine on her own. Always had been, likely always would be. She was brought out of her thoughts by her mother’s quiet voice.

“I want you to know that I’m really proud of you, Tina.” Pam waited until she had her daughter’s full attention. When she got it, she studied the beautiful face: the bright green eyes, so filled with intelligence and compassion. Her smooth, beautiful skin. Christina was in her mid-thirties now, but any twenty year old would kill for her skin. “You’ve grown into such a wonderful woman, honey. I’m so proud of all that you’ve done, from the skating star you were, to the brilliant, beloved professor you are now.” She smiled, tears in her eyes. “I always hoped you’d finish your education. I’m so glad you finally did.”

Christina looked down, pride filling her to the point of embarrassment. Her mother’s opinion mattered so much to her. It made her feel so happy to know Pam thought so highly of her. Pam Simms was such a good person, and a wonderful mother. Christina felt so lucky to have had her, but deep down she was so goddamn angry that she would lose her. It wasn’t fair!

Pam was surprised as abruptly Christina pushed up from the chair and disappeared up the stairs. She knew the reason, and it broke her heart.

Christina found her way to the bathroom, managing to get inside before the sobs ripped from her throat. As happy as her mother’s words made her, their frequency scared her. She knew it was getting close, and Pam wanted to make sure that those she loved knew exactly how she felt about them before…

She buried her face in her hands, unable to control her tears. Usually she was able to hold them back until she was at home, but today, for some reason, the emotion was riding the surface in a big way. She felt a large hand on her shoulder. Knowing her father had come to comfort her – again – she fell into him.

“I know, sweetie,” he whispered, holding his only child close. He’d had a few of his own breakdowns lately. It was hard watching his wife of almost forty years disappear before his eyes, but watching his baby girl lose her mama was probably one of the hardest things. “It’s gonna be okay,” he soothed, rubbing her back. He had planned to tell Christina that he and Pam had gone over her will earlier that day, but perhaps it wasn’t the right time just now.

*****

By the light of the Christmas tree, Christina slid the tape into the VCR – glad she still actually had one – and sat on the couch to see what her mother had thought was so important as to make her daughter watch the hated talk shows.

Sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee in hand, Christina watched the show. The first forty-five minutes were filled with “Christmas miracles”, special things the show had done for various people. The blonde had to admit – especially as tears slid down her cheeks – it was touching. Even so, she wasn’t sure why she was supposed to watch. Then Oprah announced her next guest. Christina sat up a bit straighter, surprised to see former Olympic figure skater, Farren Hankins.

Christina watched intently as the brunette was introduced, her blue eyes twinkling as she took in the applause that were aimed at her. It had been more than three years since she had seen the beautiful woman. She couldn’t take her eyes off her now, as the talk show hostess began to talk to her. Christina was listening to what Farren had to say as they engaged in informal chit chat, but soon the words disappeared, and green eyes focused only on Farren’s face. The brunette was certainly beautiful on the screen, but Christina knew, in person, she was breathtaking.

Her gaze drifted down to full lips, and watched as the straight, ultra-white teeth flashed with each of Farren’s words. Her eyes were so blue, especially against the light blue button up shirt she was wearing. The color was vivid, the life behind them just as vibrant.

Christina was so lost in her perusal that she was startled when suddenly the image on the screen changed from Farren Hankins to a little girl skating around an ice rink, the Olympic medalist at her side.

“Explain how this program got started,” the talk show hostess said.

“Well,” Farren began, the picture back to her in the Chicago studio. “I got an email from Kelsey –“ referring to the little girl that had been on the screen – “and she asked if I would be willing to come to her school in Houston and be her show-and-tell that week.”

The audience broke out into laughter, as did Christina. She put her coffee cup aside, completely immersed in Farren’s story of her travels to Texas, all to meet a little nine year old fan, who took her to class with her.

“From that meeting with Kelsey, I was inspired to start a program back home in Denver for younger skaters like her.”

“So, let me get this straight. This little girl – cute little thing who wanted to drag you into her classroom as show-and-tell has inspired you to create a community program for kids who want to skate?”

Farren nodded. “Exactly. Kids who want to figure skate, play hockey, basketball, and we’re trying to open up a division for non-athletics, too.”

“Non-athletics?”

“Yeah, you know, you might paint, but can’t dribble a ball to save your life. Basically, a community center for kids, with extremely affordable membership fees, if not free. Depending on the case. So many kids want to be involved in activities outside of what their school can offer, but many parents can’t afford it. For instance,” Farren grinned, “I hardly think I could have gotten involved in figure skating through my local elementary school.”

Christina smiled, watching as Farren’s charisma washed over everyone in that studio, and likely everyone at home watching. The blonde couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Farren, a philanthropist? It just didn’t fit the hard-partying, womanizing person Christina had known three years ago. All the same, she watched the rest of the program, and wrote down the address where donations could be sent. She was intrigued.

*****

Christina let the tinted glass door close behind her as she made her way towards her car, and out of the small, cramped parking lot of the Post Office. She didn’t feel comfortable leaving an envelope with a sizeable check inside, sit in her mailbox at home, waiting for the mailman to pick it up.

After watching Farren’s appearance on the talk show, she had decided she wanted to be part of Farren’s cause, even if from a distance through her sizeable donation. It was an extremely worthy cause, and Christina was proud of Farren for doing it.

As the blonde drove to her parents’ house, the smile slid from her face, remembering the dream she’d had the night before. She had arrived at the house, only to find that her mother had died in the middle of the night. A quick call home had assured her that her mother was fine. In fact, Pam sounded chipper and happier than Christina had heard her in weeks. That had immediately set her at ease.

“Mom?” she called, walking into the empty living room.

“Back here, sweetie,” Pam called out, her voice still weak, but stronger than Christina had heard it in far too long.

Christina followed the voice to the kitchen, where Pam was cleaning up breakfast dishes. “Let me help,” the blonde said, immediately rushing to take over the task, as it was difficult for Pam to stand for long periods of time. Her energy levels would usually give out after only a matter of moments.

“No, I’ve got it today,” Pam said, batting Christina’s helping hands away. “Sit.” Pam took a few steadying breaths before filling her daughter’s plate with a full breakfast, so happy to be able to do something for those who had taken care of her for months

Christina did as asked, gratefully accepting the plate of food, as her mother sat across from her. “You look good,” the younger woman said, scooping a forkful of eggs into her mouth. Her eyes slid closed. “God, I love your eggs!”

Pam smiled. “I’m glad. Don’t eat with your mouth full. And, thank you. I feel good.” Pam ran a hand over the material of the doo-rag that covered her bald head. “I had the most wonderful dream last night,” she began, voice wistful and eyes far away. Christina listened as her mother began to re-live her nocturnal journey. “I was standing in the middle of this wonderful field, flowers everywhere. I could even smell them!” Pam’s eyes widened with excitement. “I was so happy to smell flowers again. With this damn winter…,” her voice trailed off, no need to say what they both knew. It was likely Pam wouldn’t be around for the new flowers to bloom.

“It was so beautiful,” Pam continued. “The most amazing thing was, I had hair! Long, beautiful hair, like I did when you were little. I was dancing in the field,” Pam’s eyes slid closed, as once again she was able to feel the sun in her face and flowers brushing her legs as she danced in her dream field. “I was alive and well, no sickness.”

Christina wiped at a tear that threatened to fall, not wanting her mother to see how affected she was by what she knew was Pam’s ultimate dream: to be well. “That was a beautiful dream, Mom.”

Pam smiled and sighed. “It was. You know, I think it means I’m going to get better.” She slammed her hand down on the table. “I’m going to beat this damn thing!”

Christina’s smile was as radiant as her mother’s. Joe Simms entered the kitchen at that moment, bending down to first kiss his wife, then his daughter. “Honey, I need to ask you a favor today,” he asked of his daughter, pouring himself a glass of orange juice and taking a seat at the table.

“Sure, what’s up?” Christina asked, sipping her own juice.

“I’ve got meetings all day today, but I have to get this proposal to the Winbrant office by two.” He set a manila folder on the counter. “Would you mind?”

“No, not at all. In fact, I have to meet Wyatt at noon to go over a few things for next semester – you know, before he takes off for his ‘fabulous’ skiing trip,” she said, repeating the words of her best friend.

“Great. Thanks.” Joe downed his juice, then quickly hurried off upstairs to finish getting ready for work.

“Do you want to go with me today, Mom? It shouldn’t take more than thirty minutes or so with Wyatt. That is,” Christina hedged, “if he’s on time, anyway.”

Pam nodded. “Sure, I might. We’ll see how I feel by then, okay?” Pam began to clear the table of her daughter’s breakfast dishes, and the glass her husband had thoughtlessly left on the table. “You know, that man is far too handsome to be gay,” Pam said, an image of Wyatt Townsend in her mind. She shook her head. “Such a shame.”

Christina chuckled. “No, I’d say he’s too good-looking to be straight. Gay guys are supposed to be gorgeous.”

“Well, his alter ego manages just fine in the straight world,” Pam countered, meaning Brad Pitt, who most said Wyatt was a dead ringer for. Just, Brad Pitt in Gucci.

Christina laughed. “This is true.” She helped with the dishes, then helped Pam settle into the living room. “I watched that Oprah tape you sent me home with. Oh, and here’s your tape, by the way,” she said, digging it out of the messenger bag she’d left on the couch when she’d arrived at the house. “That’s a pretty amazing program Farren has started. I mailed out a check today on the way here.”

“Good for you!” Pam said, excited. She set the tape aside, knowing she’d use it later to tape her soaps. Sometimes she fell asleep in the middle of General Hospital, and couldn’t dare miss her show. “She looked beautiful, didn’t she?”

Christina was surprised by the sudden comment, but nodded. “Yes. She’s a beautiful woman, Mom.” Christina tried to play it nonchalant, not wanting Pam to know just how much Farren Hankins’ still could get to her. She wanted to change the direction of the conversation, and fast. “I’m going to talk to Wyatt about it today, see if he’s interested in maybe going down there to help her out. He doesn’t really have the money to give, but he has lots and lots of time.”

“That would be wonderful, sweetie. You should, too.”

Christina shook her head. “No. I’d rather give money.”

Pam knew from the tone of her daughter’s voice that the discussion was over. She dropped it.

*****

As the morning wore on, Christina had herself set up on the couch, laptop in hand, working on notes for a new project she had planned for the next semester. Pam was in the recliner, watching CNN. She looked tired.

“Is there anything I can get for you?” Christina asked, taking off her computer glasses and setting them aside.

Pam turned blood-shot eyes her way and shook her head. “No, sweetie. My energy just seemed to have gone caput.” She reached over for the remote, hitting the MUTE button. She wanted to talk. “So how are things really going with you, Tina? Was the semester good?”

Christina put her laptop aside, pulling her legs up to tuck underneath herself. “Everything is going fine, Mom. I promise. The semester was good. Had a few jackasses in class, but overall, it went fine. I am considering going back and finishing, though. Getting my PhD.”

“Why?” Pam asked, never understanding her daughter’s constant drive and need to improve upon herself. It was wonderful in concept, but she often wondered if Christina’s use of it was simply to avoid living real life.

“Because with only a Masters I’m stuck teaching at either a high school or community college level. I’m thinking I want to get into the university.”

“Honey?” Pam said, her voice soft. “When are you going to stop improving and start living? I should be a prime example for you. Your youth and beauty don’t last forever.”

Christina was confused, and it showed on her face.

Pam smiled, understanding. “I have one question for you, which I don’t want you to answer right now, but I want you to think about for a bit. We can talk about it tomorrow.”

“Alright,” Christina drawled, not sure just exactly what her mother had in mind.

“If you died tomorrow, can you say you’ve done all that you hoped to do by this point in your life? Have you reached every dream? Achieved every perceived goal?”

Christina knew she could answer that question easily, and opened her mouth to do so, but Pam stopped her with a raised hand.

“No. Think on it tonight. You give me the answer tomorrow.”

Christina had dropped off her father’s proposal for him, and was now headed to the school to meet Wyatt. Pam had decided not to go, preferring instead to take an afternoon nap. They had plans to go out for an early dinner when Christina got home. She knew Pam was biting at the bit to get out of the house.

Wyatt was actually waiting for her, to the blonde’s surprise. The good-looking guy was notorious for being late to any and every planned meeting. Even his own classes, half the time.

“Hey,” Christina said, setting her messenger bag down on her desk, Wyatt sitting in a desk in the front row, feet up on the desk next to it.

“Afternoon, gorgeous.” He hopped down and walked over to her, giving her one of his famous bear hugs, which she happily returned. They shared a quick kiss on the lips. Wyatt wasn’t out at the college, so their genuine affection for each other helped keep his sexual status a mystery that leaned toward the straight. Christina Simms was the envy of most their female colleagues, which amused her to no end.

“Hello. You’re actually here!” Christina gaze him a smirk, which he rolled blue eyes at.

“Yes, yes. I had to drop off some paperwork to Grimes, so I was here anyway.”

“Wonderful. I can’t stay long, so that worked out great.”

“Gotta get back to your mom?” he asked, walking over to Christina’s desk, and looking through the pages the blonde had brought with her.

“Yeah. I’m going to take her out for dinner when I get home. She’s bursting at the seams to get out.”

“I bet. I would be, too, stuck in that bed all damn day.” He shook his head sadly. “Poor woman.”

“You should come with us, Wyatt. I know she’d love to stare at you all night.”

Wyatt grinned, his dimples winking at Christina. “I can’t, but I’ll follow you home and say hello.”

“She’d love that, Wyatt, thank you.” Despite Pam’s jokes about Wyatt’s looks, she’d always really liked the guy. She had been nearly heartbroken to find out he was gay, and that there wasn’t a chance of he and Christina making her gorgeous grandbabies. She often called him the son-in-law that got away.

The two teachers got to work, and within forty minutes were headed out. Wyatt promised to meet Christina at her parents’ house within fifteen minutes, but he had to fill up his tank for the early drive out of town the next morning.

Christina felt happy, hopeful, as she drove away from the school, surprised when she saw a big red sign mounted on a small, corner building: ROSES!

“Roses? In December?” Seeing it as a sign, she pulled into the lot and walked into the small flower shop. Her mother wanted the smell of real flowers, Christina was going to give her real flowers.

Bouquet in hand, Christina headed the rest of the way to her parents’ house, surprised – for a second time in one day – to see Wyatt’s car parked at the curb, her friend stepping out of his car.

“’Bout time you showed up…”

Christina rolled her eyes, showing him the flowers. “Pit stop.”

“For me? Aww, how sweet.” Wyatt laughed when his friend pushed away his attempts to take the flowers from him. “Such a loving daughter,” her said as they walked up the path towards the house.

“I know.” Christina pushed open the door, Wyatt behind her. “Mom!” she called out, excited to see her mother’s face when she saw the flowers, which smelled absolutely wonderful. She had definitely done her good daughter deed for the week. “Mom? I brought Brad Pitt with me!” She turned and grinned at Wyatt over her shoulder.

“I do not look like Brad Pitt!” he hissed, though he was always secretly pleased when someone told him that.

Christina walked through the living room to the kitchen, peeking out into the backyard, her concern growing. “Mom?” She glanced up towards the stairs, which she felt was unlikely, since Pam had a hard time climbing them without help.

“She’s not in the bathroom, either,” Wyatt said, stepping out of the small half-bath just off the kitchen.

“Check the basement, okay? I’m going to check upstairs.” Wyatt nodded and hurried towards the door that led down, Christina taking the stairs going up, two at a time. “Mom?” Christine asked softly, walking down that hall, ducking her head in her old bedroom, finding it empty, then on to her parents’ bedroom.

She let out a sigh of relief when she saw her mother laid out peacefully on the large king-sized bed. She must have decided to take her nap in her own bed, rather than the couch or recliner. It was highly unusual, but not totally unheard of. She chewed her lip for a moment, trying to figure out if she should wake her or not. A glance at her watch told her that it was the normal time when Pam would be getting up, anyway, so she decided to wake her.

“Mom?” she walked over to her mother’s side of the bed and sat on the edge of the bed, flowers lying in her lap. “Wakey wakey. I brought Wyatt to say hello, but he can’t join us for dinner. I tried.” She waited, nothing. “Mom?”

“You found her? Oh,” Wyatt put a hand to his heart. “Thank god. I wasn’t sure if she’d run off or something.”

“Nah, just napping.” She turned back to her mom, resting a hand on the older woman’s arm. She gasped, shocked to find it cool to the touch. Her heart began a slow build, beating a little harder each time. “Mom?” she said, her voice faltering a bit. She touched the side of Pam’s pale face, “Cold.” She turned to Wyatt, green eyes pleading for him to do something.

Wyatt hurried to the bed, bending over Christina and placing two fingers to Pam’s Throat. Dread filled him when he felt no pulse. “Call an ambulance,” he whispered.

Disclaimers: This little tale is mine and all mine. 

Sex: Yes’m.  There will be sex in here, and you should know better than to ask if you’ve ever read my work before. J

If you’d like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com. 

Winning Touch

by

Kim Pritekel

Part 5

The wind swept through the winter-naked trees, making them dance and sway, their bare branches brushing together like the bones of the dead, crying for another who has joined their ranks.  Christina watched them, eyes swollen and sore from too many tears.  Her grief had turned to blessed numbness this day, a gift from the angels, perhaps.  She could feel her father on her left, Wyatt on her right, Christina lending support to one, the other lending support to her.

The minister spoke in tones loud enough for those gathered to hear, yet not loud enough to disturb the peace of the winter day.  His face sounded flat to Christina’s ears, any echoing forces muffled and absorbed in the blanket of snow that tucked the cemetery beneath its chill. 

Pam hadn’t wanted a church service, as she had never been able to declare herself one denomination or another.  When Christina had been a child, the Simms family had hopped from one church to another, looking for a home that always seemed to be elusive.  Ultimately the family had decided on none, but to believe in their own way.  So, here they all stood, in the cold air of a late December afternoon. 

Christina surreptitiously looked over the gathered crowds of people, very pleased by the numbers of those who had turned out.  She recognized many faces from her days as a skater and coach.  Some now-world famous skaters themselves.  Including one that Christina could barely see, standing just behind Peggy Lipton.  She gave a nod of acknowledged recognition when the blue eyes met her own. 

Christina helped her father to the limo, about to get in herself, helped by Wyatt, when she was stopped with a hand to her arm.  She turned to see Farren standing before her, a used tissue clutched in one of her gloved hands. 

“Hey,” Farren said softly, her words white puffs of air.  She glanced at the handsome blonde man who stood directly behind Christina, then turned her attention back to her ex-coach.

“Hi.  Thank you so much for coming,” Christina said. 

Farren nodded, letting out a long breath.  Her own reddened eyes gave away just how affected she’d been during the service.  “I want to tell you I’m sorry, but somehow that just seems so lame.  I wish I had words to tell you how I’m feeling right now.” 

Christina smiled.  “I can see it in your face, Farren.  You don’t need to say a thing.”  She shrugged slightly.  “The mere fact that you’re here says it all.”

Farren smiled, giving her a grateful nod.  “If you need anything, Christy, my phone number hasn’t changed.”

“Though your priorities have,” Christina said, giving Farren’s arm a squeeze.  “I’m so happy for you, what you’re doing.  You should be very proud of what you’re giving Denver.” 

Farren’s smile was beautiful, almost as dazzling as the snow around them.  “Thank you.  And…” she stopped, unsure if this was the right place to say it.  “Thank you, too.  We got your donation.  I really hope you don’t mind, but after I heard about your mom, I put it in her name.”  Farren’s smile widened.  “Pamela Simms now has an ice rink named after her.” 

Overcome, Christina grabbed Farren and held her in a tight hug, emotion rising to her throat.  She swallowed it down before releasing the surprised brunette.  Without another word, she climbed into the limo, and the car was on its way. 

*****

Christina sat cross-legged on the floor of her living room, a box of pictures to her left, a pile of looked-through shots on her right.  She held a handful of glossies when she heard someone enter the room.  Looking up, she saw Wyatt holding up several dresses, a hanger looped over each of his fingers. 

Putting the pictures aside, she walked over to her friend, sorting through the garments.  They’d been at this for hours, Wyatt ever-patient as he helped his best friend go through her mother’s belongings.  Pam had died three months ago, and Joseph Simms was having a hell of a time coping.  He had asked Christina to please go through her mother’s things, getting rid of what needed to be gotten rid of, and to box the rest.  It was killing him to have to see Pam everywhere he looked.  Christina and Wyatt had packed up everything and trucked it to her house, where they were now.

“These four can go into the Good Will bin, but save the rest.”

Wyatt nodded, about to turn and leave the room, but he stopped.  “Is he sure about all this, Tina?” 

Christina sighed, running a hand through her hair.  “I sure hope so, Wyatt.”  With a nod, the dutiful friend headed back upstairs, leaving Christina surrounded by all that was her mother. “I really hope so.” 

Going through the basement and attic to retrieve all of her mother’s belongings, Christina had found several trunks containing all of her outfits from her skating days.  All of them.  She was surprised her mother had kept everything from those days, and decided she would donate those to Farren’s organization, as well. 

It took nearly an hour for Christina to finish the pictures.  Her had been a notorious picture taker, and apparently, kept everything.  Christina intended to create photo albums out of the loose snapshots and give some to her father.  That way, he’d have something of Pam, but could also put it away.

“Okay, clothing is finished,” Wyatt announced, plopping down on the couch, tired after an entire weekend of this. 

“Thank you so much, Wyatt.  I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he said, waving her off.  “You just owe me a kick ass dinner, is all.” 

Christina grinned, nodding.  “Okay.  You’re on.” 

*****

The building was brick, and one that Christina recognized as an old skating rink from when she was a kid.  The letting over the front door proudly exclaimed it to be the COMMUNITY CENTER OF THE ROCKIES.  A soft smile on her lips, Christina entered the building, a large, rolling suitcase rolling behind her. 

Inside, a receptionists desk was placed in the center of the lobby, a vinyl ribbon used to create separate lines, much like a bank of movie theater.  No need for line markers today, as the building seemed quiet, only the distant sounds of kids laughing could be heard. 

“Can I help you?” the woman at the desk asked, a hand covering the mouthpiece of the phone she had at her ear. 

“Hi.  I need to speak to someone in charge.”  She patted her suitcase.  “I have some skating outfits to donate.” 

“Okay.  Hang on a sec.”  The lady mumbled a quick, talk to you later, into the phone then hung it up, hurrying from her post to disappear through a door. 

Christina looked around the lobby, memories of that first day her mother had taken her to see Coach Duvall, so many years ago.  She remembered walking over to the case on the wall, filled with trophies and ribbons.  A similar case was built into the brick wall of the community center lobby.  She walked over to it, surprised to see photos and news clippings of herself and Farren, both so young, smiling for a crowd of cheering fans, though back in those days, the “cheering fans” had mostly been friends and family.  

“Long time ago, huh?”

Christina turned to see Farren standing behind her, hands tucked into the back pockets of her jeans.  “Yeah.  A lifetime ago.” 

Farren nodded.  “Pretty much.  I hope you don’t mind,” she indicated all the pictures of the blonde.  “You’re a hometown hero to these kids, too, so it seemed only fitting…”

“No, it’s fine.  Weird, but fine.”  She matched Farren’s smile, then remembered why she’d come in the first place.  “I brought some outfits.”  She walked over to where she’d left the rolling suitcase at the counter.  “I have more in the car, too.”

Farren’s eyes brightened.  “Oh my god, you’re kidding!?”  She followed the blonde, falling to her knees as she unzipped the bag, looking through all the nylon, sequined and trimmed outfits. 

“There’s a wide range of sizes, too.  I think these were from age six until I think about age fifteen.” 

“Thank you so much, Christina!” Farren said, getting to her feet.  “We’ve been trying to get our hands on outfits like this.  This is wonderful!”

Christina smiled, unable to help herself.  “Well, come help me.  I’ve got more.” 

Farren followed the blonde out to a cute little red SUV.  Together they unloaded the boxes of outfits, carrying them into Farren’s office.  “It’s not much, but I can do what I need to,” the brunette explained, indicating the small, somewhat shabby room around them.  The carpet was threadbare, the desk badly scarred.  A simple – and obviously very old – desk top sat upon the desk, yellow sticky notes pasted all around the fifteen inch screen.  The walls were wood paneling, some of which was beginning to chip and peel. 

Christina took it all in, finding it strange to see Farren in such surrounds, considering her house had been filled with all the finest things life – and money – had to offer. 

They set the boxes down in the corner, then stood in an awkward silence for a moment.  Finally, Farren broke it.  “How are you doing?  I called…”

Christina nodded, feeling guilty.  “I know, I’m sorry.  I got your voicemail.”  She let out a long breath.  “I haven’t been the most social of people lately, and then my dad asked me to go through my mom’s stuff, so,” she shrugged, unable to meet the painfully understanding gaze of the woman standing across the small room. 

“I can only imagine, and it’s fine.  Don’t worry about it.  I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”  Farren leaned back against the desk.  “Quite the media blitz, huh?” 

Christina nodded.  “To my utter surprise.  I haven’t been in the sports spotlight for years.  I’m still not entirely sure why the death of my mother would make news.” 

“Well, once America’s Sweetheart…”

“I guess.”  Christina rolled her eyes good-naturedly.  She glanced over at her ex-student and most bitter rival.  “Why did you stop skating, Farren?” 

Farren had known the question would come at some point.  She just hoped Christina would understand and accept her explanation.  For some reason, it mattered to her what the blonde thought.  “Because I realized I was trying to force it.  I love to skate, but competition no longer appeals.  I’m sorry for wasting your time and talent, Christy.” 

Christina shook her head.  “I don’t see it that way.  I’m glad you came to that decision, actually.  Well, to that realization, is probably a better word for it.  And, Farren I’ll never see that time as a waste.  I think we both learned a lot.” 

Farren  nodded, suddenly feeling very shy.  She knew she certainly had learned a lot.  She’d learned that in that time, she hadn’t wanted to rekindle her career, she’d wanted to rekindle her life, and Christina would have made the perfect jump start.  “Would you like to see your mom’s rink?” she asked suddenly.

Christina was thrown a bit by the sudden subject change, but regained her equilibrium.  “Um,” she said, faltering when she saw the excitement in the brunette’s eyes.  Her emotions already began to rise in her throat.  “It’s been a very long couple days, going through all of her stuff…” her voice trailed off, Farren nodding.

“I completely understand.  Truly.  Maybe some other time you can see it.  Just let me know.” 

“I will.”  Christina removed her keys from her pocket, ready to go.  “You’re doing a wonderful thing here, Farren.  You should be very proud.”  With a kind smile and breeze of wonderful-smelling perfume, she left Farren alone in the office. 

*****  

Farren was tired after a long day at the Center.  She had no idea it could be so exhausting running a business.  She was constantly trying to drum up donations, or writing grants, and it could be so utterly rewarding, and so utterly frustrating.  She pulled into the parking lot of her condo, cutting the engine and climbing out to walk up to her building. 

After Christina had left her estate and employ, Farren had done some soul searching, and had decided that she no longer wished to live at the palatial property, so had spent the next six months trying to sell it.  Once it was gone, she left the US, traveling the world until she was ready to come home and make a new life.  She’d bought a condo, and then not long after, she’d been contacted by the little girl who would change her life forever, and send her on a new path of priorities. 

“Hey, baby!” Farren said, bending down to pet the extremely excited beagle.  “How’s my little Fuzz, huh?”  She bent down, accepting all the excited wiggles of the white, brown and black dog. 

After proper greetings, Farren made her way into the two-level condo, dropping her purse and keys on the breakfast bar in the kitchen, then grabbing a bottled water from the fridge, she headed up the staircase, which led to the three bedrooms, and two of the three bathrooms.  In her bedroom, she quickly undressed, enjoying the feel of her bare feet on the thick, cream-colored carpeting.  She’d had the place completely re-carpeted last summer. 

It had been a long day, and though spring was around the corner, the weather had been cold the past couple days.  Rain had poured down the night before, leaving the day damp and miserable.  Farren was craving a hot shower, followed by a relaxing evening with just her and Fuzz. 

As Farren readied for her evening at home, she marveled at how anyone who knew her even two years ago, would see her now.  She’d become a very different person.  It seemed time was mellowing her, and bringing her back down to earth.  Now, at thirty-seven, she no longer felt the need to prowl the night and conquer some poor, unsuspecting woman.  Farren had spent the first thirty years of her life under the control of someone else, slave of the skate.   

For a time, after the death of her coach, partner and career, Farren had reverted back to the rebellious tendencies of a teenager, living a life she had never been allowed to in her youth.  More than two years of sleeping with far too many women for her to be able to recall names, and throwing back more Jack Daniels than anyone should in such a short time. 

Because of her sport, and the dedication and grueling training required, Farren had devoted herself to all of it, once joking with Beverly that Farren worried she’d go nuts at age forty, doing all that she had denied herself when she was younger.  They would laugh at that, Beverly telling her it would never happen, that Farren was far too mature for that.  

“If only you knew, Bev,” Farren murmured, grabbing the remote control to turn the TV on.  Freshly showered and wrapped in silk pajamas, Farren curled up with Fuzz.  She flipped through the unending variety of channels, amazed that after two hundred and thirty-three stations, nothing appealed.  No matter how much she may have been looking forward to a relaxing night, the memories of the past few years were making her feel restless and lonely. 

She absently ran her hand along her dog’s back, Fuzz letting out a long, contented sigh as she squirmed onto her back, making it very clear she wanted her belly rubbed.  Amused, Farren obliged, her mind returning to her restless thoughts.  For a moment, she considered heading out to a bar, which she hadn’t been to in a very long time.  Then, the thought of drunken gropes and pounding music made her quickly change her mind.  She considered heading out to see a movie. 

Fuzz moaned, causing Farren to look down.  The dog was totally on her back, though she’d wiggled like a worm until her body looked more like a letter “C” than a relaxed beagle.  She looked up at the brunette with big, sad brown eyes, almost as though the dog knew that her mommy was considering leaving. 

Amused, and charmed beyond measure. Farren chuckled, giving the dog a good rub down.  “Okay.  I won’t leave you.”

Fuzz’s tail thumped excitedly against Farren’s leg. 

*****

Christina looked at her friend, eyes wide in shock.  She had even forgotten about the arrival of her blueberry bagel with honey almond cream cheese.  Wyatt grinned at her. 

“Come on, Tina,” he chuckled, “it can’t be quite that  shocking.” 

“You don’t think so?  Wyatt,” Christina said, shaking herself out of her stupor. “every guy you’ve ever seen – gay or straight – wants you.  You said you would never – and I quote – ‘ever’ settle down.  Now you’re telling me that this guy you met three months ago has asked you to marry him, and you said, yes?” 

Wyatt leaned back in his chair, a smug grin on his handsome face. “When it’s right, it’s right.”

Christina could feel his excitement and see the genuine love in his eyes.  Not typically a touchy feely kind of gal, she couldn’t help jumping up from her chair and pulling Wyatt from his. 

Farren Hankins walked into New York Bagels, a local bagel and coffee shop, that made the best muffins anywhere in Colorado.  Their coffee was pretty damn good, too. 

The small shop was busy, as it was before eight o’clock in the morning, and everyone was getting their coffee and bagels for work.  A man standing at the glass case was holding up the line, as he was taking his sweet time ordering – what seemed like – breakfast for his entire company!  Farren tried to be patient, even as she glanced at her watch every few minutes.  She was bumped from behind as the woman who was in line behind her wasn’t paying attention. 

She was about to turn back around when someone caught her eye.  Over by the windows, at the small round table tucked into the corner, she saw Christina Simms and the guy she’d seen at Pam Simms’ funeral.  They were hugging, and just before parting, they shared a quick kiss on the lips.  It was obvious there was genuine affection between the two, and a deep bond. 

Farren had wondered who the guy was at the cemetery, and now it seemed to be clear.  For some reason, she felt disappointed, which was absurd.  But still…  She couldn’t take her eyes off the couple, watching as they parted then shared a few words before the man gave Christina one last kiss, gathered his things, and headed out. 

Christina was overjoyed for her friend, though she had to admit, a bit skeptical of how long things would last.  She hoped that Wyatt truly had found love – the real thing, and not lust in disguise.  Though, she also had to admit t herself, deep down she was envious.  Never before had she wanted anything from anyone, on an intimate level.  In fact, for the past couple years, Wyatt had very much filled a void inside her, and she had been somewhat content.  Until recently.  She sat back down, looking forward to enjoying her breakfast and the morning newspaper, as her first class didn’t start for another hour.

Farren kept an eye on the blonde as she made her way through the line, trying to decide if she should go over and talk to her or not.  It had been a few weeks since Christina had dropped off all the outfits, and there had been no communication between the two since.  Farren was unsure, wondering if maybe that’s how the blonde wanted it.  Was their time in each other’s life over?  Were the few months that the blonde had coached her, it? 

She finally reached the counter and made her order, then moved on past the large, glass case filled goodies, to the register.  A teenage girl, gum snapping, waited to ring her up.  Farren gave the girl a five dollar bill, which covered her coffee and plain bagel, and pocketed her fifty cents in change. 

“Thank you,” the brunette said, taking the paper coffee cup, her bagel would be delivered to her after it was toasted and slathered with cream cheese.

On her way to the coffee area, she would pass by Christina’s table.  Farren was trying to decide whether she’d say hello or not, when her decision was made for her. 

“Farren?”

Farren turned to see Christina turned in her chair, looking up at her.  She smiled.  “Hey.”

“I thought I heard your voice.” 

“Yeah,” Farren raised her cup, “I gotta have my addiction.”

Christina smiled, nodding in understanding.  “Join me, if you want to.  Well, once you get your addiction, that is.”

Farren’s smile widened.  “Absolutely.  Be right back.”

Christina felt a sudden wave of nerves hit her as Farren wandered off to the coffee station, and she wasn’t sure why.  She turned back to her paper, trying to decide how to organize the small table to make room for her unexpected – but certainly not unwanted – guest.  She folded the newspaper, tossing it into the messenger bag that hung on the back of her chair, and took a sip of her coffee, trying to act as natural as she could.  

Farren stirred the cream and Equal into her cup, finding that she was almost giddy at the prospect of sitting and talking with Christina.  Even so, part of her reminded her to be careful: straight women – or even partially  straight women – were dangerous.  And, Christina was obviously very happy with the good –looking blonde guy.  She had to admit, they did make a gorgeous couple. 

Amused by her own observations, she walked back to the table to join Christina, her bagel arriving not long after she did.  She accepted the red, plastic basket lined with wax paper, and began the task of spreading the generous amount of cream cheese on the sliced bagel halves. 

“How are you?” Christina asked, as Farren got settled and readied her food. 

“I’m good.  Staying busy.  How about you?”

“About the same.  The semester is getting pretty heated, so it keeps me on my toes.” 

Farren looked at her, pleasant surprise in her eyes.  “You finally went back to school?” 

Christina smiled.  “Three years ago.  I got my masters, and now teach a few English classes – Comp 101 and 121, Understanding The Language – that king of thing, over a the community college.” 

Farren was delighted to hear it.  “That’s wonderful!  I’m so glad for you.” 

“Thank you.  How is the community center going?” 

“Really well, thanks for asking.”  Farren took a careful sip of the very hot brew.  “We’re getting more volunteers, though we’re still pretty short, which makes things tough sometimes.  But, your old costumes have worked out beautifully!” 

Christina could actually feel the excitement coming off Farren in waves, which made her also feel excited.  “I’m so glad.  It just made no sense for them to rot away in the attic anymore.”   They were both quiet for a moment when Christina remarked, “You’re far from home or the community center…”  She knew damn well she was getting out her fishing pole, but she wanted to know.

“Actually, this bagel shop is very close to where I live.  I sold the other property three years ago, and bought a small condo over on Yale.”

“You’re kidding?”  Christina sat back in her chair, stunned.  “Then we’re practically neighbors.  I bought an old Victorian on Estes.”  The two laughed at the coincidence, considering the two streets in the area of the bagel shop were very close to each other. 

“Well, look at that.”  Farren was immensely amused, and somewhat pleased.  Even if Christina was living with that guy – or even just in a relationship with him – she would like to get to know her again.  Living in such close proximity, that could be entirely possible.  If, that is, Christina were interested. 

Christina was having a hard time meeting the intensity in Farren’s eyes, for some reason.  She almost felt like the brunette was looking into her very soul.  It was admittedly disconcerting.  “Well, hey I have to get to class.”  She gathered up her trash, shoving it into a nearby trash container, then gathered up her messenger bag, keys and sunglasses.  She shouldered her bag, looking down at a still-seated Farren. “It was nice seeing you, Farren.” 

“You, too.  You really should come down to the center sometime.” 

Christina grinned.  “Do I get discounted tickets to skate?”  

“Absolutely!  Hell, you can even skate free!”  Farren smirked.  “I know the boss.” 

“Ohhh,” Christina joked back, “It helps to know people in high places, huh?”

“Most definitely.” 

Disclaimers: This little tale is mine and all mine. 

Sex: Yes’m.  There will be sex in here, and you should know better than to ask if you’ve ever read my work before. J

If you’d like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com. 

Winning Touch

by

Kim Pritekel

*****

Wyatt stared at his friend, unable to take his eyes off her.  Christina had walked into his classroom dressed to kill.  He truly had no idea she had such a great body! 

“What?” the blonde asked, feeling somewhat self-conscious. 

“I didn’t know you owned such tight pants, lady,” he said, grinning.

Christina rolled her eyes.  “They’re not tight, Wyatt.  They just actually fit.”

He looked her up and down, raising a challenging brow.  He slapped her ass, which fit snugly in her jeans.  “Really?” he drawled, amused as his friend looked away, her cheeks beginning to flame.  He decided to let her off the hook and not pursue it further, though left the conversation with one last comment, which he hoped his friend would take to heart.  “You still have a wonderful body, Christina,” he said softly.  “You really should show it more often.”

The blonde smiled, secretly very pleased.  By time she turned back to her friend, the smile had vanished, an expressionless face left in it’s wake.  “They’re just jeans, Wyatt.” 

“Okay,” he said with a placating smile, not wanting the woman to suffer more than she obviously already was.  “We wanted to invite you to join us for dinner tonight.  Are you free?” 

Christina leaned against the wall, arms crossing over her tight, knit shirt.  “I can’t, Wyatt, I’m sorry.  I’m actually going to head to the community center after I leave here.”  She saw the look of surprise in her friend’s eyes.  She was afraid he’d pick up on her intentions.  “What?”  she asked, once again feeling defensive.  “I’ve been asked to for months now, but kept declining.”  She shrugged, picking at imaginary lint on her shirt.  “I feel obligated.” 

“Okay.  Well, if you change your mind, we’ll be at Jeff’s place.” 

Christina left the school, her stomach doing nervous flips as she made her way across town to the center.  She and Farren had shared a table at the bagel shop two weeks ago, and she hadn’t heard from nor seen the brunette since.  Even so, Farren hadn’t been far from her thoughts.  Christine had actually wanted to head to the center long before now, but just hadn’t been able to find the courage.  Why?  What was she afraid of?  She honestly wasn’t sure, and for some reason, didn’t want to talk to Wyatt about it. 

Christina pulled into a space at the center and looked at the brick building, watching as a small group of kids laughed their way inside.  She chewed on her bottom lip, feeling shy and uncertain.  “What am I doing?” she asked the empty car.

Tapping the steering wheel, she tried to decide what to do.  Yes, she loved the idea of being able to help out at the center, but the lion’s share of the truth was, she wanted to see Farren.  She’d had the brunette on her mind all last night, and then when she woke up this morning.  

Christina looked down at her jeans, dug out from the bottom of a drawer.  She hadn’t worn them in a long time – no real reason to.  She knew they hugged her firm ass and strong thighs well, and showed off a lifetime of physical strength and power through dedicated training. 

“Okay.  You came here for a reason, so go.”  Silence followed Christina’s declaration.  “Chicken shit,” she muttered, after a moment of nothing,  She took a deep breath, then finally stepped out of her car, standing next to it’s safety for a moment before finally making her way to the building.    

The lobby was mass-chaos, as a group of kids talking, laughed and screamed.  Christina’s first thought was to turn right back around and flee, her sanity in tact.  Seeing the receptionist – who looked like she was about to lose her own sanity – made eye contact with Christina, silently pleading for rescue. 

“Damn.”  Caught, Christina knew her choice was no longer negotiable.  She would stay and help.

Together, Christina and the poor girl at the counter managed to get all the kids signed in and settled, a daunting task considering Christina had no idea of the procedures of the community center.  But, eventually it was done, and she and the girl – who she found out was named Cindy – managed to get it all done. 

Christina plopped down on one of the stools behind the desk, blowing out a long breath.  She glanced at her young co-worker.  “Do you always enlist the help of people who walk in off the streets?”

Cindy grinned, shaking her head.  “I recognized you from all the pictures around this place,” she said, indicating the clippings and photos in the trophy case.  “Plus, I’ve heard Farren talk about you.  She’s been trying to get you in here for awhile, now.  When you finally come, she’s not even here.”  She had no idea the deep disappointment her words elicited.  “She’ll be mad she missed you.”  

“Where is she?” Christina asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.  

“She left the state for a few days.  Not sure where she went – never asked – but she’ll be back by Tuesday.” 

“Okay.  Well, listen, I’m going to take a self-guided tour of the place, if that’s okay?” she asked, wanting to get out of the building while she still could. 

“Yeah, sure!  From what Farren says, this place is kinda like yours, too, anyway.  So, knock yourself out!”

Christina wandered the halls of the community center, hearing the echoes of excited voices from the skating rink and basketballs court.  She felt a bit of pride as she made her way down the halls.  She was proud of Farren for what she had done.  Something so seemingly against Farren’s personality.  Well, that which Christina had been introduced to during their brief coach/skater relationship. 

One thing Christina had definitely noticed about the beautiful skater was that, when she’d been at her old palatial estate, fighting with her daily to train, there had been a fire in Farren’s blue eyes.  A fire for life, a feistiness that no one, nor anything could possibly make go out.  Now, though Farren was as beautiful as ever, that fire seemed to have dimmed.  If not gone out.  Christina wondered why. 

She found herself in the cold air of the ice skating rink, the sounds of laughter and voices echoing off the walls and ice.  A group of young kids – maybe seven – were gathered around their “teacher”, listening to her explain the basics of how breaks work on ice skates.  Christina smiled, the sight bringing back many memories.  The biggest memory of all, however, was huge, and on the wall directly across from where she stood. 

A giant image of Christina in one of her signature leaps was painted on the wall above the opposite stands.  All she could do was stare.  She actually knew exactly which competition that shot had been taken from.  It was close to the end of her career on the ice, before she damaged her leg.

“I remember that performance.”

The woman’s voice startled Christina from her reverie.  She looked over to see that a woman – close to her own age – had stepped up beside her.  They smiled at each other. 

“I used to follow your career,” the woman continued.  She nodded towards the mural.  “I think you were what, all of sixteen when you did that move?”

Impressed, Christina smiled.  “Yeah, that was in a competition in Versailles,” Christine remembered with a soft sigh.  “I had such a great time there.”

“I should say so!” the woman laughed.  “You won that one, leaving everyone in your dust.  Including Farren Hankins.”

The former skater’s smile broadened.  “Yes, she wasn’t happy with me.  I remember that pretty well.” 

“Were the two of you as cut-throat competitors as the media made you out to be?” The woman’s eyes were bright with excitement.  “Or was that all just propaganda?”

Christina shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest.  “Unfortunately it was pretty accurate.  We started out as friends.”  She indicated the young skaters below.  “We both got our starts at that age with Cheryl Duval.  Along the way as we got older – and better – everyone thought it best if we hated each other.”  She sighed.  “Pretty sad, I think.”

“Well, you two obviously don’t hate each other anymore.  I mean, what you and Farren have done here, it’s amazing.” 

“Oh, no this is all Farren.”  Christina shook her head.  “I can’t take any credit for this.”

“Well, considering this rink is named after your mom, I’d say you had something to do with it.”  They were interrupted by the sudden cry of a child, the woman’s head immediately snapping towards the sound.  “Oop, that’s for me.  It wonderful to talk to you, Christina!” the woman hurried onto the rink and to her fallen daughter. 

Getting back to her perusal of the rink, Christina’s breath was taken away when she saw a big, beautifully carved sign above the scoreboard: WELCOME TO THE PAM SIMMS ICE ARENA!  She felt the sting of tears behind her eyes, and a lump fill her throat.  “Oh, Mama,” she whispered.  “You’d love this.” 

As she watched the kids, she was whisked back to a similar rink, so many years before.  Nearly thirty years before, to be exact.  She could still feel that initial panic, when her tiny feet had been set down on the ice that first time.  Then, she remembered the exhilaration of finding something that she was good at, that none of the other kids were.  They were so much bigger and stronger than her frail state.  On the ice she had found a home, a niche. 

For the first time in recent memory, Christina wished she were still on that ice, still performing.  If she listened hard enough, she could still hear the cheers and clapping, could still hear the music blaring as she whirled across the ice.  Could still feel the adrenalin pounding through her body…

She was pulled violently from her memories as a crush of excited children pushed past her, nearly throwing her into the plexi-glass wall.   She regained her surround her surroundings, then decided it was tie to leave.  Enough skating down memory lane for one day. 

*****

Farren once again checked the hand-drawn map the helpful girl at the student desk had supplied.  The campus was confusing and large, even though it was just a community college, not meant to be the size of a university. 

“Aha,” she whispered victoriously, finding the right building.  Now she had to find the right room.  A quick run down of Christina’s schedule told Farren that the teacher was about to start her office hours.  It was perfect timing, she had to admit. 

Two days ago, when Farren had returned to the community center, she had been devastated to find out Christina had been there the week before to give a bit of her time.  So, today she’d decided to drop by and personally thank her for her generosity. 

The heels of her boots clicked lightly on the polished tile floor, the reflection from the window at the end of the hall a strange, watery image on the surface.  In the distance, voices could be heard talking quietly, then a short burst of laughter before a door was closed, and all was silent once more. 

Farren glanced down at the room number written on the page, and matched it with that on the door she stood in front of.  A small placard read: CHRISTINA SIMMS – ENGLISH DEPARTMENT.  The frosted-glass and wood door was partially open, a bit of buttery light spilling out into the hall from within.  A male voice could be heard. 

“I do think it’s time.” 

“I just want you to be sure, Wyatt.  This is a huge step.  Especially for you,” Christina said softly. 

“I know.  But I really feel we’re ready, Tina.  I want this, and I want you to be part of it.” 

There was a pause, then finally the blonde answered.  “Alright.  I’ll do this with you.”

There was silence again before the door was pulled open, Farren suddenly face to face with Christina’s boyfriend. 

“Whoa!” he said, taking a startled step back.  “Hi.  Farren, right?” he asked with a bright smile, recovering from his surprise. 

“Yes.  Hello.”  Farren extended her hand, figuring she should probably play nice with this guy if she planned to be in Christina’s life. 

“I’m Wyatt Townsend.” 

“Nice to meet you.”  She gave him a polite smile, then stepped aside to let him pass, which he did in a wave of pleasant-smelling cologne.  He gave her an interesting smile as he did so, then began to whistle as he made his way down the hallway  Farren watched him for a moment until she felt someone standing in front of her.  She turned to see Christina looking at her, surprise in her green eyes. 

“Well, hello there,” Christina said, indeed surprised. 

“Hi.”

“Come in.”  Christina stood aside, allowing Farren to pass by her, before closing the office door and making her way through the cramped space, an obstacle course of stacked text books on the floor.  “I’ve been asked to join the review board for next semester’s books,” she explained, slightly embarrassed for Farren to see her office so messy.  It was typically spotless. 

“Oh, that’s fine,” Farren waved away Christina’s apology, actually finding the piles of academia quite sexy.  She sat in a uncomfortable wooden chair across the piled desk from Christina. 

“What brings you back to school?” the blonde asked, a slight grin on her lips. 

“I’m looking for a good teacher,” Farren said, realizing a bit too late that it certainly sounded as though she were flirting.  Hell with it, she was flirting!  She popped herself in the head mentally.  Stop that!  Behave. 

“Oh?” Christina said, her surprise at the subtle flirtation showing.  A tingle skittered its way down her body at the tone of Farren’s voice.  “I can certainly direct you to one.” 

Farren burst into laughter at the unexpected joke.  Her laughter was contagious, as Christina also broke into a wide grin, the ice officially broken.  “I heard you came to the center the other day.  You certainly saved Cindy’s butt.”

“Oh, that poor girl!  She was completely overwhelmed.” 

“I came to give you my personal gratitude.   It meant a lot to me that you gave some of your time.  Thank you, Christina.”

“It was my pleasure.  I was glad to do it.” 

“Then I’m wondering , what is the likelihood I can snag you to come back?  We could certainly use your organizational skills.”

Christina gawked at her.  “Organizational skills?  Have you not looked closely at my office?”

Farren was amused.  “Yes, but I’ve also seen your abilities at getting stubborn, rock-headed people to do what you need them to do.” 

Christina sat back in her chair, amused.  “Okay…”

“And, I know for a fact that many of my staff need that kind of kick in the ass, from time to time.  Cindy, included.”

“She did a great job,” Christina defended.

“That may be, but if she had done the filing of many of the forms she needs for her job  when I asked her to weeks ago, that night would have been much easier and smoother. “ 

“I see.  And, you don’t feel comfortable bringing out the whip?” Christina challenged.  She was amused as the brunette looked away, clearly uncomfortable. 

“I’m not good bossing people around,” Farren eventually said.

“And I am?  Honestly, Farren, you’re not helping your cause any, here.” 

“Okay.”  Farren sat forward in her seat, ready to be blunt.  “I suck at delegation.  I know that, and the only reason this center has taken off at all is because of a few folks that were with me in the beginning.  Some of left, others can’t devote as much time as they used to.  I really need your help, Christina.  I like how you work, and your dedication to what you do.”  

Christina studied Farren for a moment, moved by just how honest and genuine her words were.  She weighed her options, and reasons.  Yes, she certainly had time.  She had little to no social life to speak of, other than hanging out with Wyatt.  Now that her mom was gone, much of that time was simply wasted on television or working out.

Finally she came to a decision, and nodded.  “Alright.  Thursday and Fridays are my best days, as I’ve gotten most of the homework done by then, and I can grade tests over the weekend.”

Farren felt her excitement grow with each word, but tried to hold it in check.  She wanted to be understand, too though.  “Listen, I understand if you have anything at home that you have to stay for – “

Christina rolled her eyes.  “Nothing important.”

Farren was surprised at that response, a flicker of the handsome guy named Wyatt passing before her mind.  “Okay.  Well, then I’d love to have you at the center Thursday and Fridays.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Excellent!”  Excited, Farren pushed out of her chair, deciding it was time to go before she wore out her welcome.  One thing she’d always found unsettling with the gorgeous blonde, was rarely being able to tell what she was feeling or thinking.  Christina hid her emotions and feelings well.  One minute you might think you’d gotten on her nerves, and Christina was about to explode, when in reality she was simply focusing on something internally.  The next minute, you thought everything was peachy keen, and she exploded because you’d trampled too far in her personal space.  Farren had always wondered what had made the former skater so secretive about herself.  The brunette would love nothing more than to bring her out of her shell.

“Are you heading out?” Christina asked, also standing.  She made her way around the desk as Farren made her way towards the door.  She felt a deep stab of disappointment, which surprised her to act on. 

Farren turned to face the younger woman, amused as her mental calculations on Christina had just been blown wide open.  As she’d looked into the green eyes, she’d seen a very open disappointment.  IT was now, however gone, replaced with indifference.  But, replaced too late.  Farren now knew that Christina wanted her to stay.  Even so, she felt in her gut it was time to go. 

“Yeah, I’ve got some things to do at home.” 

“Okay.”  They stood there for a moment, both unsure what to say.  Christina shoved her hands in her back pockets to keep them from fidgeting.  She really, really didn’t want Farren to leave, but wasn’t sure what to do about it.  She couldn’t force her.

Farren could feel a strange tension in the air, and wasn’t sure what it was.  It was so damn hard to read Christina, that she couldn’t tell if it was coming from the blonde, or from herself.  “I guess I’ll see you in a couple days, then.”  She gave a mega-watt smile, then finally left the office.  It was only once she was in the hall that she could breathe.  She took several deep breaths, then headed out. 

Christina stood where she was, deeply affected by what had just happened.  It had seemed the closer she physically got to Farren, when they were both standing by the door, the thinner the air in the office had gotten.  She’d never felt anything like it, and certainly could find no point of reference in her life to compare it to.

“Are you okay?” Wyatt asked, suddenly standing in the open doorway.  “Jesus, you’re as white as a ghost!” 

“Huh?  Yeah.”  Christina shook herself out of whatever fog she was in.  “I’m fine.”  I think.  She plopped down in one of the guest chair, not even making it around her desk to her own chair.  Wyatt sat in the second chair, their knees nearly touching. 

“What’s the matter?  I realized I’d forgotten my notes in here, but didn’t want to interrupt you and Farren Hankins.”  He looked concerned.  “Did something happen?”  

It took a moment for the words and inference to register.  Christina shook her head vehemently.  “No!  No, nothing at all.  She came to thank me for helping at the center, and managed to get me to agree to a couple days a week.”  

Wyatt knew he was being told the truth, but there was more to it.  In the years he and Christina had been best friends, he’d never seen this kind of reaction from her.  He took one of her hands, realizing it was trembling.  “Jeez, girl.  What happened?”  

Wyatt’s concern startled Christina, and she did her best to completely shake herself free of what she was feeling.  Whatever that was.  She’d have to set it aside for now, and bring it out later when she had time to really dissect it.  “Nothing.  I’m fine.  I don’t know.  I just… don’t know.”  She gave him a smile and squeezed his hand. 

*****

Farren sat behind the steering wheel of her car, staring out at the beautiful day.  She had realized that her own hands were shaking.  She looked down at them, her heart still pounding in her chest.  She had always been attracted to Christina on some level, but this wasn’t the usual sexual attraction bit.  She knew that the charge in that office had been sexual tension, but there was so much more to it than that.  She felt as if her very soul were crying out for Christina. 

Farren ran a hand through her hair, brushing the strands from her face.  “What the hell do I do?” she asked herself.  This was a new experience for her, by far.  Beverly Michaels had been the only significant love Farren had ever had, but she’d been so young, so impressionable during the early stages of their relationship.  Now, looking back, Farren had come to realize that she had likely mistaken respect and admiration for actual romantic love.  Anyone after Beverly had simply been play. 

But this.  This was very different.  Very, very different. 

Disclaimers: This little tale is mine and all mine. 

Sex: Yes’m.  There will be sex in here, and you should know better than to ask if you’ve ever read my work before. J

If you’d like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com. 

Winning Touch

by

Kim Pritekel 

Part 7

*****

Christina was shown to the file room by another of the center’s volunteer staff, Brian.  He looked less-than-thrilled to be there at all, and gave the blonde a curt explanation of what was in the file room, and what was supposed to be in the file room.  She thanked him just as curtly, and was left alone.

When she’d arrived, she’d been told Farren was in a meeting, and would be done in less than an hour.  Rather than waste time, Christina decided to get right to the source of the issue Farren had spoken of in her office.   Initially, she had intended to help straighten things up, but before she knew it, an hour and a half had passed, and Christina was sitting on the floor amidst a sea of wrongly-filed paperwork. 

Farren had been standing in the opened doorway, leaning against the framework for more than five minutes, utterly amused.  At first she’d been shocked at the audacity of Christina, waltzing in and taking over the file room.  But, then she realized the blonde was doing exactly as she’d been asked to do: help get the community center running smoother.  She was certainly enjoying the view: Christina sitting on the floor, one leg bent, the other stretched out wide, almost as though she were about to stretch her leg.  She was so completely consumed in what she was doing, the blonde had no idea she was being watched. 

Christina hissed as she received yet another paper cut.  She was about to stick her finger in her mouth when she caught something – or someone – out of the corner of her eye. 

“Oh my god!  You startled me,” she said, hand to her chest.  

Farren grinned, carefully stepping her way into the room and perching on the edge of a table.  “Sorry.  You just looked so involved in what you’re doing, I didn’t want to interrupt you.” 

Christina looked around, suddenly realizing what she had done.  “Um.  Wow.”  She gave an apologetic look to the brunette.  “I really hope you don’t mind that I just kind of dove in.  You can’t leave me alone for too long…”

Farren was amused.  “I don’t mind at all.  Better you than me.  I just do not have the patience for this kind of stuff.”  She indicated all the papers and files surrounding Christina. 

“Really?  I kind of like this sort of work.  I don’t know – it’s mindless.  Allows me to think about other things while keeping my hands busy.” 

“I can understand that.”  She grinned.  “Guess I have no business starting my own business, huh?” 

Christina also grinned, turning back to the files in front of her.  “I wouldn’t say that.  Not everyone has natural business acumen.” 

Farren slid to the floor, clearing a spot for herself a few feet away from Christina.  “Alright, fine.  Teach me.  Where do I start?”

“You can start with these.”  Christina handed her a stack of pages.  “Put them in order alphabetically – last name, and then if there are more than one with the same last name, by first name.” 

Farren blew out a breath, but nodded.  She was acutely embarrassed for Christina to see the horrible state of the file cabinets.  This should have been taken care of long ago, and she had no one to blame but herself.  She did as she was told, glancing surreptitiously over at Christina from time to time.  The blonde was so quick, so methodical.  Within no time, she had half a dozen piles in front of her, compared to Farren’s one.

“I think I’m slowing you down,” Farren commented. 

Christina smiled, but shook her head.  “No, you’re a huge help.  I appreciate it.  This is the hard part.  Once it’s done, your staff will only need to maintain it.”

“Which, requires me to stay on them, right?”

“That would be correct.” 

“Got it.” 

They worked on in silence for another half hour before Farren began to get antsy.  Again, she glanced over at her silent companion.  “You hungry?” 

Christina was amused.  It almost felt as though Farren were a restless kid, unable to stay still in her seat.  She had many students like that.  She eyed Farren, trying to give her best “teacher” look.  “Are you finished?” she asked quietly. 

Farren looked at the three piles in front of her, comparing them to Christina’s nine piles.  “No,” she said, feeling every bit the kid Christina compared her to.  Even to her, it was more than obvious she wanted to stop sorting through files than actually get something to eat. 

“You are worse than my Freshmen,” Christina marveled.  “You can go at any time, Farren. Honestly.”   

Feeling like a schmuck, Farren sighed.  “I’m sorry.  I’m acting like a child.  I just get bored easily.” 

“What, and you don’t find filing and sorting fun and entertaining?” Christina asked, one brow raised in challenge. 

Farren was sheepish.  “Not exactly.” 

“So let’s make it interesting.  Because, Farren?  You’re not getting out of helping me sort and file.”  Christina pinned the brunette to the spot with an intense, green stare.

Farren complied immediately.  “Okay.  Let’s talk.” 

“Alright.  Pick a subject.”  She finished the few pages in her hand before grabbing more.  “Tell me about your travels.” 

Grateful for a subject that she thoroughly enjoyed talking about – as it was some of the most amazing days of her life – Farren began to tell her stories.  Traveling all through Europe and Asia after her and Christina’s time had ended together.  Her eyes were alive, brilliant with the joyful memories of all that she’d seen, her voice rich and full. 

Christina listened with interest, but then her focus landed on Farren’s mouth, watching as teeth, lips and tongue played to form the words and sounds.  She looked into the brilliant blue of her eyes, and found herself lost there.  She was shocked to suddenly realize that – I want her.  Shocked by her own thoughts, Christina felt her heart begin to pound in her chest, her mouth running dry.

Confused, and acutely uncomfortable, she decided she spoke, without even realizing she was going to.  “Are you sorry you stopped?” 

Farren stopped, mid-sentence.  She looked at her companion, confused.  “Stopped what?”  

“Skating.  Are you sorry you left it all behind?”  Christina stopped creating piles and looked at the brunette, for some reason truly wanting to know. 

Farren rested the pages in her hand on her thigh and sat back against the wall behind her.  “No,” she said at length.  “I spent half my life performing for people.  For coaches and rivals.  And, for myself, I guess.”  She shook her head.  “I don’t miss it, no.  I love to skate, and the life at the time was wonderful – exciting.” 

“But?” Christina asked, hearing the hesitation in Farren’s voice. 

“But, I don’t know.”  She looked at Christina, her eyes, which had been bright moments before, now were sad.  “I think I’ve lost part of myself along the way, somewhere.  I don’t really know who I am, Christina.”  She met the blonde’s understanding gaze, though could tell Christina wanted more explanation.  “You went back to school, finished and now you have academia.  You have –“ she stopped herself, wanting to say, you have love with Wyatt, but stopped herself.  She didn’t want to sound as pathetic as she felt.  “I just wish I had my own niche.”  She shrugged and let out a long sigh.  “I’m not sure where I belong.”  

Christina could feel the sadness coming off Farren in waves, and it broke her heart.  “What about this?” she asked softly, indicating the community center around them.  “Does this not fulfill you?”

“It does.  Absolutely, it does.  It’s been a lot of work, and a huge commitment.  But definitely worth it.”  Though she was extremely proud of what she’d accomplished, she still felt a heavy sadness.  A sadness which seemed to have come with Christina, and one she couldn’t shake.  She was grateful for the soft knock on the frame of the file room door.

“Farren?  I need you out here,” Cindy said, repentant for having to interrupt. 

Farren looked at Christina, giving her an apologetic smile.

“Go ahead.  I’m fine.  I’ll be done here soon, anyway,” Christina said, squeezing Farren’s hand to emphasize her words. 

Thankful, Farren left, getting her composure back.

Left alone, Christina grabbed all of Farren’s piles, slowly adding them to her own, all the while her mind whirring.  What the hell?  She was actually glad Farren had been called away, as she still hadn’t gotten her body under control.  As Farren had been talking about her world travels, Christina had been overcome by an undeniable need to kiss the beautiful brunette, and then let Farren do whatever she wanted after that. 

That line of thinking wasn’t like her at all, and no one had ever had the privilege of such physical freedom with her.  No one.  Her mind took her back to one of the last nights she’d been at Farren’s palatial estate, that night on the ice.  Closing her eyes, she could feel the cool of the ice on her face, and the warmth of the brunette behind her.  Then their kiss. 

A shiver passed through Christina at the memory, her fingers reaching up to touch her own lips.  She let out a deep, trembling sigh, then returned her attention to her task at hand. 

***** 

Christina played with her food, her mind very much not on the conversation that was all around her.  She sat at Wyatt and Jeff’s house, their spontaneous get-together in full swing.  Two other gay couples – friends of Jeff’s – and Mary, a fellow faculty member where she and Wyatt worked. 

It had been a long day at work, then time spent helping at the community center, and the weekend loomed ahead.  She’d only agreed to the dinner because she figured a social setting would help get her mind off of her evening spent helping Farren paint a back office.  

“Tina?” Wyatt looked at his friend, waiting for her to look at him.  Nobody was home.  “Christina!”

Christina’s head jerked up, eyes wide as she made her way back to earth from where her mind, once again, had begun to wander.  “What?” 

“Pass me the peas, please.” 

“Yeah.  Sure.”  Christina passed the large bowl to her friend, ignoring the amused snickers of the other dinner guests.   She felt foolish, and truly just wanted to go home and be alone.  She was becoming more and more confused over her growing – and unsettling – wants, where Farren was concerned.  It was beyond her realm of understanding. 

“Tina, help me for a minute,” Wyatt said suddenly, setting the bowl of peas of aside, and rising from his seat.  He waited until his friend followed, then led her to the kitchen.  Once there, he made sure the swinging door had fully closed before turning to his friend.  “What’s up with you?”

“What do you mean?  I’m sorry I didn’t hear you ask for the peas.”

Wyatt shook his head.  “It’s more than that.  “I’d asked you four times, but this has been going on for the better part of a week.  If not longer.”  He stared at her, trying to get her to look at him, even as her gaze found every and anything more interesting than him.  “Something is wrong, and you can’t lie to me.  Your mind is in outer space.” 

Christina sighed, leaning back against the fridge, arms crossed over her chest in a protective hug.  She could come up with a million and one things to give as an excuse for her recent behavior, but decided against it.  It was time to put her feelings and confusion outside of herself.  Finally she nodded. 

“Yes, something is wrong.  Well, I don’t know if ‘wrong’ is accurate, but something definitely is up.”  Christina looked at him, wishing with all her might that Wyatt would guess or be able to read her mind.  She wasn’t entirely sure what the right words were for what was “up”.  It obviously wasn’t going to happen, as he stared at her expectantly.  “I can’t get Farren Hankins off my mind.  There, I said it.” 

Wyatt smiled at the petulant look on the blonde’s face, but it quickly disappeared as he realized that, though her words may be fairly tame, there was a great deal more behind them than just simply thinking about the woman often.  “Okay,” he said carefully.  “Why is that bothering you?” 

Christina let out another long sigh.  “Damn it, Wyatt, I want her!” she hissed, surprising even herself with the vehemence of her statement. 

Wyatt could only stare, what he would say interrupted by the entrance of Jeff into the kitchen. 

“Everything okay?” he asked, looking from Wyatt to Christina. 

“Yeah.  Tina’s in lust!”

Christina buried her face in her hands, groaning as Wyatt put an arm around her shoulders. 

“No way, really?” Jeff asked, excited.

“Guys, please stop.  I don’t want the whole damn house to know,” Christina pleased, shrugging out from under Wyatt’s arm. 

Both guys looked at her, then Wyatt smiled apologetically.  “I’m sorry, sweetie.  I just want to see you happy.  I got excited.” 

“What are you going to do about it?” Jeff asked her. 

Christina shook her head.  “I really don’t know.  My experience with this is nil, and to be perfectly honest, I just feel like an idiot.” 

“Why?” both men asked at the same time. 

“Because I’m thirty-five years old, and yet I don’t know how to get the attention of someone I’m attracted to!  And, I’m thirty-five years old, and I realize for the first time that I’m attracted to a woman.”  Christina was upset with herself, almost feeling like she was defective, compared to the rest of the normal world. 

“We can’t help you with the woman realization part, but we can help with the attracting said woman part,” Jeff said, his eyes aglow with excitement. 

Wyatt looked at his partner.  “Samantha?” 

Jeff grinned with a nod.  “Samantha.” 

“Who’s Samantha?

*****

Jeff’s sister Sam was a professional makeup artist, and a trip.  Christina felt unsure, looking at the younger woman’s Goth-like appearance, replete with a dog-studded collar.  Christina was her captive, sitting in one of Jeff’s kitchen chairs and under the intense scrutiny of the makeup girl.  

At length, Samantha pulled up a chair and sat in front of the blonde.  “So, you’re trying to attract a hot chick, huh?” 

Christina cleared her throat, uncomfortable. “I’m trying to get the attention of a specific woman, yes.”

“Sweet!  Well, you are with the right person.”  Samantha opened her makeup kit, sorting through the various tubes and jars. 

“Jeff said you have several boyfriends,” Christina began, unsure if this was the right way to go. 

“That I do,” Samantha said, comparing various shades of foundation to Christina’s skin.  “What is your normal makeup routine?”

“Um, I don’t really have one.  So, if you go through several boyfriends, how can you help me?”

Samantha gave her a Cheshire cat grin.  “I have several boyfriends by design, not desperation.”  She returned her attention back to her makeup.  “I like variety in my life.  Do you like makeup?”

“No, not really.  Variety in boyfriends?” Christina asked, eyeing all the tubes and jars Samantha was setting out on the table with a wary eye. 

“In everything, actually.  This,” the makeup girl held a few strands of her jet back hair between her fingers, “it’ll be pink in two weeks.  Green after that.”  She shrugged.  “Just don’t like the same things.  I get bored easily.”   She sat back, once again studying the blonde.  Her eyes narrowed when her gaze settled on Christina’s eyes.  “Why aren’t you wearing any eye makeup?”

Not sure how to respond, Christina blinked.

“You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen!  Woman, what are you doing?!”

Christina was taken aback by the vehement passion behind Samantha’s words.  “Thank you.  I think.” 

“Oh, girl,” Samantha said, her voice soft as she rested her hands on the blonde’s knees.  “I am going to make you look irresistible.  Don’t be afraid,” she said, putting a finger to Christina’s lips, forestalling anything she might have to say.  “Just trust me.  Okay?  I’m not going to change you, just make the already-you that much better.”

Christina was nervous, but nodded, deciding to give this strange woman full freedom.  “Alright.  Let’s do it.” 

Samantha’s look could be described as only pure evil. 

***** 

Farren finished the last of her water, tossing the empty plastic bottle into the recycling bin, just outside her office door.  She held a file folder against her chest.  A group of kids had been signed up at the center the day before, and she needed Cindy to call each of their parents, making sure the juveniles had their permission. 

“Cindy?” she called out, rounding the corner to the main lobby.  She stopped short, nearly dumping the file onto the floor. 

Standing at the main desk, talking to Cindy, was the sexiest woman Farren had ever seen.  It took her a moment to realize it was Christina Simms!  She wore light makeup, which Farren only noticed because she’d never seen the blonde with makeup on before, other than her skating days.  What caught her, however, were Christina’s body.  Something about her was different.  A confidence that exuded from her, which pretty much had the same affect as chocolate, wine or any other aphrodisiac that could be named. 

“Hey,” Christina said, walking over to where Farren stood.  No one looked better in jeans than the former skater: her hips, though narrow, still had a very feminine sweep to them.  She had no belly to speak of, and her thighs were strong, filling out the denim enough o grab attention, but not distract.  Christina wore a white button-up shirt, the collar unbuttoned a button or two beyond was likely appropriate.  If the blonde moved just right, a teasing hint of cleavage would reveal itself, only to disappear in the next movement. 

Realizing she’d been addressed, Farren blinked, barely managing to drag her focus up to Christina’s face.  “Hi.”  She suddenly wished she’d not finished her water, as her mouth was very dry. 

“I know it’s not my usual day, but I had some free time, so I figured I’d come to help.”  Christina’s grin felt strange to her, but she knew it looked good.  After all, she’d practiced in front of the mirror in her bathroom long enough the night before.  She could tell it was all having the desired – at least she thought so – effect on Farren.  The brunette seemed nervous, unsure of herself, which Christina could not ever remember seeing with the confident, almost cocky Farren Hankins.  

“Oh.  Um.  ‘K.”  Farren flashed a quick smile, trying for all the world to get herself together.  She could smell the blonde’s perfume, which was nearly making her swoon.  She backed up a step, gasping slightly as her back came into contact with the wall.  She felt like a frightened puppy as Christina took a step closer.  She felt trapped, like she had nowhere to go but the green of those eyes, which were now all the more potent as they were highlighted by subtle, smoky tones. 

Christina was baffled.  She tucked her hands into the back pockets of her jeans, taking a slight step back.  It was only then that Farren seemed to relax.  “Are you okay?”  She noted the brunette was holding the folders she carried in front of her like a shield. 

“Yes!” Farren answered quickly, a completely false smile following.  “Can you call these parents, please?” she held out the file folders, realizing it would be the quickest escape.  “They need to confirm the membership of their children.”  With those hurried words, Farren disappeared back down the hall and into her office, leaving a very confused Christina in her wake. 

She slammed the door shut, leaning against it and taking a deep breath.  “Jesus,” she whispered. 

Never in her life had she been affected by someone like that before.  Her heart was pounding, her mouth like cotton, and her fingers begging for just one touch of Christina’s flesh. 

“She’s taken, she’s taken,” she whispered, eyes closed tightly.  “I don’t do that anymore.  No more seducing straight women.  No, siree, not me.”  She blew out a long breath, nearly yelling in surprise as a loud knock sounded on her office door.  She turned and yanked it open, startling Cindy, who stood on the other side.

“You okay?” Cindy asked after a moment, her eyes big. 

Farren nodded, heading around her desk and plopping down in her chair.  Cindy followed, sitting across from her.  “What’s up?” 

Cindy studied her boss for a moment, not saying anything, but not able to hide her smirk, either.  She’d witnessed the whole thing in the lobby.  It was rumored about Farren’s sexual orientation, but Cindy had never had concrete proof until just now.  Farren had looked torn between ravishing Christina right there in the lobby, and running screaming into the early evening. 

“What?” Farren asked, on the defensive.  She could see it all shining in Cindy’s eyes, but wasn’t about to go there with her employee. 

The girl shook her head.  “Nothing.  Christina told me she was going to call the parents, so that’s cool.  We’ve got a birthday party this weekend, and I know you usually don’t work weekends, but would you mind helping?  It’s going to be a big one, and I don’t know if me and Kenny can handle it ourselves.” 

Farren groaned, leaning back in her chair.  She absolutely loved the fact that families were using the center more and more for celebrations, as the fee to use it for parties helped the center immensely.  But, she hated working the parties.  A gaggle of laughing, screaming children was not her cup of tea. 

Cindy knew she had an ace in the hole.  “Christina Simms offered to help.” 

Farren sat up in her chair.  “She did?”

“Yep.”

Farren stared at her for a moment, trying to keep her excitement level down.  She knew Cindy had already caught what had just happened, and didn’t need to escalate it any further.  “Alright, I’ll be here.  What time?” 

Cindy knew she had landed a major victory by getting Farren to help out at the weekend party.  Less work for her, anyway. 

Left alone in her office again, Farren sighed, rocking her chair back and forth.  She thought again about Christina, and the mega reaction she’d had to her.  What had done it?  What had gotten her so riled up?  It was no secret Christina Simms was a beautiful, totally desirable woman. 

Farren ran a hand through her hair, leaving a mussed up do in her wake.  “Crap.”  

Disclaimers: This little tale is mine and all mine.

Sex: Yes'm. There will be sex in here, and you should know better than to ask if you've ever read my work before. J

If you'd like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com .

Winning Touch
by
Kim Pritekel

Part 8

*****

Christina had set herself up in one of the unused offices to make her calls. She had two neat piles in front of her, the face-down pile substantially larger, as she'd made the majority of the calls for the newest members of the center. She'd been at it for three hours. The first several calls she'd made had been answered by answering systems, so she'd moved on, waiting for those people to get home from work. After finishing the calls who had been answered, she was now returning to those who hadn't been.

She listened to the third ring, ready to hang up when a woman's voice was suddenly on the other end of the line. “Hello, Mrs. Radison? I'm Christina Simms from the Community Center.” As the woman acknowledged who she was, Christina glanced up as Farren stepped into the doorway of the office. She raised a hand in a greeting wave. Farren smiled in reply. “Hello. Your daughter, Kelsy signed up with us over the weekend, and we were just wanting to make sure that was alright with you.” The woman spoke on the other end, leaving Christina free to smile back at Farren.

Farren was amused, watching as the blonde tried to retain her professional demeanor on the phone, while grinning at her like a panther. She had decided to track down her gorgeous little helper, and overcome her reaction from earlier. She'd seen Christina hundreds of times, and had been just fine. She was determined to be just fine again. She raised her hand, pantomiming the motion of eating, raising a questioning eyebrow. She got an enthusiastic nod from Christina.

As Christina finished up her call, she kept her gaze on Farren, unable to help herself. The strange thing was, Samantha hadn't really done a whole lot to her, other than teach her a few cool eye makeup tricks, as well as give her some advice on clothing choices. Somehow, those subtle external changes had done more dramatic changes internally. She felt confident, somehow. Dare she say it? Sexy .

Farren fidgeted as she waited for the call to end, feeling as though she were about to jump out of her skin at any moment. What she really wanted to do was run back to her office, but she made herself stay put. Whatever had gotten under her skin, she was going to deal with. And deal with it right now! She hated feeling like something had control over her, especially when she didn't understand what it was.

Finally, Christina put the phone back into its cradle and smiled up at Farren. “Hungry, huh?”

“Yes. Very.”

Christina didn't miss the look aimed at her, which was carefully hidden a moment later. She could tell Farren was restraining herself, and that confused Christina. The Farren she knew before would never try and restrain her feelings. That was made apparent that night on the ice. Interesting.

“Okay. I have three more calls to make then we can go. Cool?”

“Yes. Very cool. I'll be in my office.” Farren left the room, a little pep in her step.

Thirty minutes later, the women met up outside a popular steak house, their cars parked two cars apart.

“I hope you're hungry,” Farren said, holding the door to the chop house open for her friend. “Lotsa food here.”

“Good! I'm starving.”

Glad to be out of the office for the day, Farren ordered herself a watermelon martini, glad to unwind.

“So, will Wyatt mind that you're out without him?” she asked, mentally kicking herself. Why the hell should she care if he cares or not?

Christina looked at her like she'd grown a third eye and shook her head. “Oh, no. Not at all. I'm sure he's stuffing his face as we speak, anyway.”

Interesting. Farren wondered if there were problems in the relationship. She could only hope. Bad me. I am a bad, bad person. “Oh. What are you going to have?”

Christina, completely unaware of Farren's inner thoughts of badness, perused the menu. “Not sure. I haven't eaten here in a long time, so I have to re-familiarize myself.” She looked at the abundant offerings of utterly fattening dinners. “God, my ass is going to pay for this tomorrow,” she muttered.

Farren rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Christina had the greatest ass of anyone she knew, and knew damn well one steak wasn't going to spoil the perfection. “Well, I am starving, and plan to thoroughly stuff myself.” She set her menu aside and began to snack on the bucket of peanuts at the end of the table, discarding the shells in the empty bucket, left for that purpose. “Mmm. Love peanuts.”

“Me, too.” Christina grabbed herself a small handful and carefully shelled each before popping the newly bared peanuts into her mouth, one by one. She studied her dinner companion for a moment, about to speak before she lost her nerve, but was interrupted by the returning waitress. Farren's martini and Christina's water was dropped off, and their food orders taken.

“Only water, huh?” Farren asked, stirring her drink before taking a sip. “Mmm. That's good.”

“It smells rather… watermelonee.”

Farren grinned. “Want one?”

“You trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me?” Christina asked, shocked at her own words, but managing to hide that shock quite nicely. Unlike Farren.

Farren swallowed her normal retort - hell, yeah! – and took a second sip of her drink instead. “No. Water is just boring. You've had as long a day as I have, so I just figured….”

“I see. No, I'm fine. Thank you. If I feel really bad, I might have a wine cooler when I get home.”

“Ohhhhh!” Farren teased. “A wine cooler. Wild child, you.”

“I know. I even shock myself sometimes.”

Farren burst into laughter, enjoying the blonde's easy banter. It was rare to see Christina so relaxed, and though she wasn't sure what the occasion was, she was glad for it. ‘Thanks for your help today. As usual, you really helped save the day, like some super hero flying in out of the blue.”

“No problem. Sorry I didn't have my cape on, though; it's in the dry cleaners.” Christina grinned, which was quickly caught by Farren. Soon, they were grinning like idiots at each other. Tension had sprung up between them, and though Christina wasn't entirely sure what to do with it, she was enjoying it immensely. Warm fuzzies ran up and down her body, settling between her legs. It was a nice feeling.

A moment of tense silence bounced back and forth between them, leaving Farren at a loss of what to do or say. She glanced at her friend, then away as soon as her gaze was met by probing green eyes. She felt like she was thirteen yeas old again! What was up with Christina today? What was up with her , for that matter? Christina definitely had her on her toes.

“So, I hear that you only agreed to do the birthday party this weekend when you heard I'd volunteered,” Christina said, head cocked slightly to the side.

Farren looked at her, surprised, then looked away. “Cindy's fired,” she muttered, then took a sip of her martini. She'd definitely be having a second.

Christina chuckled. “Not necessary. I just thought it was cute.”

“Cute?” Farren felt grumpy now, busted in her ridiculous need to be near Christina. “I hate that word.”

“Oh, come on, Farren,” Christina said, reaching across the table and squeezing the brunette's hand playfully.

“You're a busy woman, and I didn't want you to have to give up your entire weekend, just to watch a bunch of kids scream and fall on the ice.”

“So, I shouldn't do that, but instead should sit on the couch watching TVO'd shows from the week?”

Farren blinked a couple times. “I don't have an answer for that. So, then I guess you're okay with chasing after twenty 10 year olds?”

Christina nodded, sipping her water. “Very okay with it. That is, if I get to chase after you, too.” Dead silence. “I mean you know, as I recall, you were somewhat of a difficult kid, yourself.” Christina felt like an idiot, and wasn't sure what to say. Instead, she turned her attention to de-shelling more peanuts.

Farren was trying to get her heart to calm, but it wasn't working. She now knew that Christina was outright flirting with her. And, she had a boyfriend at home! What the hell? She was about to say something when their dinners arrived.

They dug into their meals in silence, both thinking the same thing, but from different angles. Farren was wondering what the hell was going on. What, was it girls night out from the boyfriend? Was it time for some fun? Tease the lesbian? She felt a surge of anger, but then let it go. It was harmless, and so was Christina.

Christina, on the other hand, was wondering what she'd done wrong. Samantha – and Wyatt for the matter – had said she needed to flirt. Make herself available and open for Farren. So, what did she do wrong? The earlier sexual tension was now just… tension. She wanted to cry.

“I'll be right back,” she said, sliding out of the booth.

“Okay. I'll be here when you get back.”

Christina hurried to the bathrooms, tugging her cell phone out of her pocket as she went. Wyatt's phone rang twice before he picked up. “Help!”

“Christina? What's wrong?”

“I don't know what I did wrong.” Christina brought a hand up, swiping at a tear before it had a chance to fall. “I feel so stupid, Wyatt. I don't know what I'm doing. What was I thinking? She is totally out of my league. This whole thing was just stupid!” she hissed, turning away from a guy who walked by her, glancing her way at her vehement words.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on. What happened?” Wyatt removed his reading glasses, putting the tests he was grading aside. Jeff, who had been reading a book put it aside, as well.

“I don't know. I tried to flirt, but I think I offended her or something. God, Wyatt, what am I doing?”

“Are you crying?” Wyatt asked softly, shocked, as the only time he'd ever seen his friend cry was when her mom died.

“No,” Christina lied, wiping her eyes again. “I just feel really stupid, Wyatt. I don't have it in me to do this. I'm meant to be alone.”

“No you're not!” Wyatt exclaimed, his heart breaking for his friend. “Sweetie, you're beautiful and wonderful, and deserve to be happy. And, if Farren Hankins doesn't see that, then maybe she doesn't deserve you. ”

“No,” Christina sniffled, “it's not her fault, Wyatt. I'm just not cut out for this. I gotta go. I'm going to go finish my dinner then go home. I'm done.”

“Honey, please don't give up on this. I really feel you need to try-“

“I have to go, Wyatt. She's probably wondering where I disappeared to. I'll talk to you tomorrow.” Christina flipped her phone closed before her friend could talk her into anything.

As she weaved her way through the restaurant, she heard –

“Christina, don't let her go…”

Jerking her head around, expecting to see someone she knew – or her mother – she saw a young, black woman, her three children following her, including an adorable toddler, whose hand was held tightly by an older sister. The older child looked as though she wanted nothing more than to let the wiggling toddler's hand go.

Though amused, Christina couldn't help but wonder if it had been a sign of sorts. With a quick glance to the Heavens, she hurried back to her table and an awaiting Farren.

The brunette was cutting up her steak when Christina returned. She could sense something was wrong, but wasn't entirely sure what it was, or what to do about it. She glanced up at her friend as she slid into the booth.

“Find it okay?” she asked.

“Yeah. Sorry. Too much water,” Christina lied. Her own thoughts were whirling as she tried to decide what to do next. She felt in her gut that to turn away from Farren would be a mistake, but she wasn't entirely sure how to proceed. “Good?” she asked, indicating Farren's food, trying to get the topic off her sudden trip.

“Excellent!” Farren enthused, happy to be on seemingly safer ground. “I haven't had a good steak in far too long. I could never be a vegetarian again, lemme tell ya.”

“Again?” Christina questioned, cutting up her own dinner.

Farren nodded, sipping from her martini to wash down the large bite of steak she'd just eaten. She decided it might be wise to get some water, as she was beginning to feel the alcohol in her system. “When I was competing, I wasn't allowed to touch meat, other than the occasional fish or chicken. Beverly felt there was too much fat in red meats.”

Christina nodded, remembering many of her own dieting fiascos during those years. “I still love to run – when my leg will allow it, of course – but overall, I'm so glad I don't have to worry about the rigors of constant training, anymore.”

Farren raised her glass in salute. “Amen, sister.” Their glasses clinked, and their waitress appeared at the table, a second watermelon martini in hand.

“You ordered our special, secret item tonight, so get a second for free!”

Farren looked at the second drink, then at Christina, who was grinning. “Okay. Thank you.”

The waitress left, leaving the two women alone again. “Oh boy,” Christina said. “Are you going to be okay to drive?”

Farren shook her head, uncertain. “I honestly don't know. We may be sitting here for awhile.”

Christina smirked. “fine by me.”

As the meal went on, both women enjoyed the light-hearted conversation they shared, jumping from topic to topic. It was the first time they'd met as friends, and not as rivals or coach and skater. The tension between them had melted away, instead leaving a fun, refreshing atmosphere.

By the end of dinner, Farren decided she wasn't in good enough shape to drive home, and didn't want to sit at the restaurant – which was getting nosier as more and more people arrived – but instead wanted to go home.

“Would you mind?” she asked Christina, holding up her own stet of keys.

“Not at all. If you want, I can bring you back here tomorrow to pick up your car.”

Farren nodded in agreement. Their bill was squared away, and then they made their way out into the beautiful night.

“I'm parked over here.” Christina led the way towards her SUV, Farren following behind, her brain fuzzy and body pleasantly warmed.

“This is cute,” Farren complimented during the drive to her condo.

“Thanks. It's good in the snow and good on gas.”

“Important.”

Christina followed her friend's directions, ending up at a nice condo complex. It was so radically different than where Farren used to live. It was hard to believe she'd given up the huge estate for fifteen hundred square feet of condo living.

She parked the SUV at the curb, unsure what to do. Her stomach was in knots, her palms sweating. How was this supposed to work? Did she just say good night, and what time should I pick you up in the morning? Farren, on the other hand, had other ideas.

“Wanna come in and meet Fuzzy?”

Christina's eyes became saucers at the suggestion, her mind reeling at just what exactly Farren could mean by meeting Fuzzy.

Farren burst into laughter, seeing the confusion in Christina's eyes. “She's my dog ,” she clarified.

Christina also laughed, though it was a nervous laugh. An image had already begun to spring to mind, and now she wasn't able to brush it away. Instead, she found a parking space and locked the car, following Farren up the path to the building. It took Farren a moment to successfully get her door unlocked, but with a little help from Christina, the task was accomplished and entry was made.

“Welcome,” Farren said, dropping her keys with a loud clang onto a table. She flipped on lights as she went. It wasn't long before her brown, black and white beagle charged into the room – having been asleep on her bed – all barks and wagging tail.

Christina immediately fell in love with the small beast. “Look at you!” she exclaimed, falling to her knees to accept tons of puppy kisses. “You are too cute!”

“Oh, she knows that already,” Farren smirked, kicking off her shoes as she plopped down on the couch. She watched the blonde play with her dog for a moment, charmed by the picture the two made.

“I have to say,” Christina said, finally getting the dog settled down. “I'm surprised you have a dog, Farren.”

“Why?” Farren asked, patting the cushion beside where she sat.

Christina took her invite, and plopped down next to her, tired after a long day and a full belly. “I don't know. Your other house was just so … perfect. It didn't seem like you'd want the mess that goes along with having animals.”

Farren – who's head was resting back against the cushions – turned to look at the blonde. “My house was perfect because I had staff who made it that way. Not so here.” She indicated the living room around them.

Though it was a beautiful room, filled with expensive, stylish furnishings, magazines and two days of newspapers littered the coffee table top. What could be seen of the dining room table was piled with unopened mail and a light jacket that had been tossed over the top.

“Okay, so it's lived in.”

Farren burst into laughter. “Messy, you mean.” With a groan she pushed up from the couch and to her feet. “Come on. I'll give you the nickel tour.”

“Okay,” Christina said, following her hostess. “And, no, I mean lived-in . ” They headed into the large kitchen, Christina marveling at the new appliances and granite countertops. “God, I'd kill for those. My kitchen is so old. It needs to be re-done in the worst way.”

“So, why don't you re-do it?” Farren asked, leading the way into the joining dining room.

“I don't know. Guess I've got other things I'd rather be doing.”

Farren smiled in understanding. “Okay, so you've seen the kitchen, living room and dining room. I'll show you the bedrooms and office.”

Christina's stomach began to clench up again as they made their way down the hall, Fuzzy's wagging butt at their feet. She was first shown the guest bedroom, then the office – which was pin-neat – and finally the master bedroom. Christina was equal parts nervous and curious to see that room.

The bed was a large king, gorgeous cherry wood posts reaching nearly the ceiling at all four corners. The dresser and other furniture matched, creating a dramatic, beautiful effect. “This is really beautiful, Farren,” she said, turning in a small circle in the large room.

“Thank you.” Farren leaned back against the wall, hands tucked behind her. She felt nervous energy coming off Christina in waves, and washing right through her. She watched the blonde explore the room, her heart beginning to pound. Her buzz was quickly wearing off, leaving a deep burn of want in its wake. It was definitely making her nervous.

Christina finished her perusal of the room and turned to Farren. She saw her blue eyes burning a path right into her, and it made her feel almost dizzy. The tension was back with a vengeance. Christina felt her heart pounding, palms sweating, and she was terrified. She'd never been in this position before, and had no idea what to do about it.

Farren felt her resolve slipping away as Christina stood on the other side of the room, looking at her. Their gazes collided, and she felt the physical crash throughout her body, leaving her trembling. Words began to come from her before she'd realized she had meant to speak.

“You look so beautiful today, Christina.” Not only had she not meant to speak, but her voice was not her own: it was deeper, filled with the deepest want she'd ever known.

“Thank you,” Christina said softly, her fear growing in step with her desire. She felt awkward and unsure, all earlier confidence gone, drained from unfamiliar territory.

Farren couldn't take her eyes off Christina, her heart pounding in her ears and throat. She wondered if it could be heard in the room, outside the safety of her chest. Her body burned to touch the blonde, to taste her and feel her naked skin. She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. Any semblance of sense was beginning to vanish as her focus became tunnel vision: I want her .

Christina could feel a shift in the energy in the room. The air was becoming heavy and vibrant, as if every piece of furniture, every moment, every atom were waiting to see what would happen.

Farren fought her own body for control. Her feet itched to move, to carry her across the room to the blonde. She could remember how those lips tasted, how Christina felt against her. She longed for that touch again. For the chance to show her just how much she really wanted her. How much she loved –

Farren was shaken from her reverie and spurred into non-action by what she had just about to think. There was absolutely no way in hell love was a word that should be used in concert with Christina Simms. Right? Lust – check. Gorgeous – check. Maybe even really big, major like – check, check and check. But not love. Then, on top of that, an image of Wyatt What's-His-Name entered her mind, sealing the deal.

“I think you should leave,” Farren said quietly, turning her back on Christina before she did something really stupid, and asked the blonde to stay.

Christina felt as though she'd been shoved – hard. “What?” she asked, out of breath from her earlier euphoria of conflicting feelings.

“Really. I think you should go.” Farren turned to face the stunned blonde, doing her damndest to hide any expression. “It's late, and we've both had a long day,” she explained gently, trying to take any sting out of her sudden turn-about.

Christina said nothing, just nodded. She left the room, leaving a confused Farren behind, her only companion the slamming of the front door, followed by Fuzzy's barking.

“Beautifully done, Farren. Absolutely fucking brilliant,” she scolded herself, followed by a long sigh.

Disclaimers: This little tale is mine and all mine.

Sex: Yes'm. There will be sex in here, and you should know better than to ask if you've ever read my work before. J

NOTE: Don't read at work!

If you'd like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com .

Winning Touch
by
Kim Pritekel

Part 9 – conclusion

*****

When Wyatt entered Christina's classroom two days later, she was erasing her dry-erase board, ready to write notes for the incoming class, which would arrive in twelve minutes. He looked her up and down with a critical eye.

“Soooo, when you spent time with Sam, she told you to dress like an old school marm?”

Christina didn't need to look down at herself to know she was dressed in head to toe black, very little skin revealed whatsoever. “No, she didn't,” was her quip.

“Okay, what the hell happened?” Wyatt finally had lost his ability to be silent out of respect and friendship. The day after “the dinner” she'd asked him to ask no questions. No questions, no death, had been her bargain. He and Jeff had talked about it at length, never coming up with any sort of scenario for what may have happened. He was officially at the end of his rope. “I know you asked me not to ask, but damnit girl, I have to.” He seated himself at one of the desks in the front row, waiting like a good student.

Christina sighed, setting the eraser in the long tray that ran the length of the board, then plucked the green dry-erase marker out of the same try and began to write. “Nothing happened, Wyatt. She asked me to leave her condo. End of story.”

“Wait, how did you end up at her condo? I thought you guys had dinner?”

“We did. I drove her home because she'd had a bit too much to drink with dinner. She gave me a tour, asked me to leave, and here we are.” She continued to write notes on the board, not once sparring a glance to her concerned friend.

“Why did she ask you to leave?” Wyatt pushed out of the desk and walked over to her, wanting to see her face. When she allowed it, Christina had the most expressive eyes of anyone he'd ever known. When his friend gave him a simple shrug at his question, he gently turned her towards him. “Hey. Talk to me. Why did she ask you to leave?”

Christina let out a long breath, capping the marker and setting it aside. “I really don't know, Wyatt. That's the truth. We were standing in her bedroom, and I'm telling you: the tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. She looked at me like nobody has ever looked at me.” She gave him a small smile. “I really thoughts she was going to pounce. It scared the hell out of me, to be honest. But, then it all went away. She turned away from me and asked me to leave.”

“Just like that? No explanation, she just asked you to leave?”

“Well, she said it was late, long day, yadda yadda, but it was just an excuse. We both knew it was.” She looked down at fidgeting hands and shrugged once more. “I don't want to talk anymore about it, Wyatt.” She looked at him with pleading eyes. “Please?”

“Why is she playing with your head?” he asked, feeling his anger rising. No matter how strong Christina Simms might appear to the average Joe, the truth was, she had the softest core of anyone he'd ever known. She was kind, loving and eternally loyal. If only given the chance.

“I don't know, but just leave it alone. I'm fine, it just wasn't meant to be.” She took his hands in hers. “Okay?”

Wyatt nodded, giving his friend a hearty hug, then leaving her to get ready for her class. Besides, he had plans of his own.

*****

Farren hung up the phone, exasperated and irritable. She had been trying to get grants for the past few months, and was beginning to realize she was getting the run around by several organizations in town. She was not thrilled. Come to think of it, she'd been irritable all week.

Grabbing her keys from the desk, Farren pushed up from her chair and was headed to the closed door of her office when she was met with a knock from the other side. Rolling her eyes, as she knew this – whatever it was – would likely keep her stuck in the office longer, she reached for the knob and pulled the door open. Imagine her shock when Wyatt What's-His-Name stood on the other side.

“Wyatt,” she said, the surprise evident in her voice.

“Hello, Farren. We need to talk.” Wyatt was not pleased with the beautiful brunette, and did nothing to hide it in his voice.

Farren felt her heart drop. Crap . Just when she'd been good, and had tried to do the right thing, she's still in trouble! “Alright. Come into my office.”

Wyatt entered, Farren shutting the door behind them. She stood waiting for the man to say his piece. She watched – amused – as he decided which chair he wanted to use in front of her desk, then waited until he got settled. “Is Christina okay?”

Wyatt shook his head. “No, as a matter of fact, she's not. What kind of game are you playing with her?”

“Game? I have no idea what you're talking about, but I assure you, I've tried to do what's right by her.”

“Tried to do right by her?” Wyatt said, springing up from the chair. “You call flirting with her one minute, then turning your back and asking her to leave the next, doing right by her?” Wyatt waited, but when there was no comment forthcoming, he continued. “Farren, she has done everything in her power to get your attention, and then just when she has it, you turn her away. Don't you know that this is a huge step for her? Something she's never done before?”

“Look, Wyatt, I don't know what kind of game you two are trying to play with me, but I want no part of it.” She laughed out loud, finding the entire situation ludicrous as she ran a hand through her hair. “What is this? Are you guys looking for a third? I'm sorry, but that's not for me.”

Wyatt was utterly baffled. “Wait. What? A third? What are you talking about?”

Now Farren was just as baffled. “What do you mean, what am I talking about? What are you talking about?”

Wyatt's confusion turned to enlightenment, a slow smile spreading across his face as laughter bubbled to the surface. Finally, he was in full-out near hysterics, leaving Farren even ore baffled. “Oh my god!” he cried, wiping at his eyes. “You two really need to work on your communication.”

Farren was getting pissed now. “Listen, Wyatt, I'd like to go home, it's been a long week, so I'd really appreciate it if you'd let me in on what's so goddamn funny.”

Getting himself under control, Wyatt nodded, wiping more tears of laughter from his eyes. “You think Christina and I are a couple, don't you?”

“Well, aren't you?”

Wyatt burst into more laughter, this time somewhat catching Farren in it's wave. “Farren, I'm marrying Jeff Biggs in two months!” he exclaimed, hands wide in emphasis.

“What?” Farren asked, shocked. “You're gay?”

“Yes! Christina is my best friend, but that's it. Oh my god how did you two make it to adulthood?”

Farren fell into the chair next to Wyatt's, suddenly very tired. “Shit.” She looked at the good-looking man sitting next to her, a hand to her forehead. “What do I do?”

“I'll tell you, but first, there are a few things about Christina you need to know.”

*****

Christina pulled up to the center, cursing softly under her breath, as Farren's was the only car in the parking lot. She'd come late, hoping the brunette wouldn't be there, and now it seemed she was the only person there. She tried to decide what to do. No, she didn't want to see the brunette, but she had given her word that she'd be there every Thursday.

She tapped the steering wheel with fidgety fingers, chewing on her lower lip. Finally, with a heavy sigh, she stepped out of her car and locked it. The walk up to the front door didn't take as long as she wished. She even made a deal with herself that if the front door was locked, she'd turn around, get back into her car and go home. Only if it was unlocked – which of course it was – would she stay.

The lobby was dark, Cindy nowhere in sight. It was almost eerie as Christina made her way deeper into the building. Every true crime show she'd ever seen came back to her, and she couldn't help but feel like a knife-wielding maniac would be at every turn.

She saw the light was on in Farren's office, and was both soothed and riled by it. She went towards it, knocking softly on the doorframe to get the brunette's attention. “Hey,” she said.

“Hi.” Farren looked up from the reports she'd been working on. Her heart beat a bit faster at the sight of the blonde. ‘Come on in.”

Christina was reassured by the soft, friendly tone of Farren's voice. “Where is everyone?”

“I closed the center at noon . Getting the ice re-done and the courts polished for the party this weekend.”

“Oh. Right, the party. Okay. Well, uh, do you need me to stay? I guess this might be a great time to get any cleaning done or anything.”

“Yeah. Absolutely.” Farren studied the blonde for a moment, sensing her uncertainty and the insecurity was very much back. It broke her heart to know she'd put it here.

“Great. Where do you want me to start? I can start in the locker rooms, if you want. I know they're in pretty bad shape.” Christina's voice faltered a bit as Farren got up from her desk and made her way around it, stopping mere feet in front of her. Her palms began to sweat, a mixture of nerves, desire and residual humiliation rushing through her. “I mean, I can-“

“Christy, stop,” Farren said softly, pressing a single finger gently against the blonde's lips. “You know, a good friend of yours recommended we communicate more, and I have to say, truer words were never spoken.”

Christina looked at her, confused, slightly frightened of all the feelings racing through her. “What are you talking about?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“See, I found out that I had it all wrong.” Farren removed her finger from Christina's lips, gently brushing the backs of her fingers against the softness of her cheek. “I thought you and Wyatt were a couple.”

“You did?” Christina asked, basking in the attention and gentle affection. Her smile matched that of Farren.

“Yes.”

Christina's eyes slid shut as she reached up, taking Farren's hand in her own, bringing the palm to her lips and placing a soft kiss there. “No,” she whispered, her eyes opening to meet Farren's gaze. “He's my best friend. Nothing more.”

“I should have asked. Could have saved us a lot of problems, huh?” Farren wrapped her fingers around Christina's, holding her hand almost possessively within her own. “I'm sorry for that. I never meant to make you feel I was playing with you, or toying.” She kissed the backs of Christina's fingers. “I don't do that anymore, Christina, and certainly not with you.”

Christina nodded, believing Farren's words. She studied their joined hands, her heart pounding furiously. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

The blonde finally made herself meet Farren's intense gaze. “What exactly is it that you want from me, Farren?”

Farren took her in time in answering, wanting to make sure she could answer with complete honesty. “Christina, we've come in and out of each others lives our entire lives. Somehow, I don't think that was by accident. I think there's supposed to be more to you and I than just simply competitors or even …”

“Friends?” Christina supplied, feeling exactly where Farren was coming from.

Te brunette nodded. “Yeah. More than friends. I want more than friends. With you. I want more than lovers.”

The word sent a thrill through Christian's body, making her shiver a bit. She nodded in understanding and agreement. “But, you do want that, right? Lovers?”

Farren nodded. “Yes,” she whispered, unable to speak any louder. She wanted it more than anything she could ever think of.

Christina looked away again, hating herself for the path she'd had before Farren. She felt like a failure a child. “I-“ her voice failed. She cleared her throat to try again. “I've never-“

“I know.” Farren used two fingers to raise Christina's face until their gazes met again. She smiled with encouragement. “I know.”

“Wyatt, huh?”

Farren nodded. “He loves you a whole lot.”

Somewhere, a boost of confidence filled Christina, and she leaned up, placing a soft kiss on Farren's startled lips. She pulled back just enough to be able to look into Farren's face. The soft smile she saw there made her melt.

Farren cupped Christina's face and leaned in, her kiss just as soft, but filled with a bit more purpose and intent. She didn't get far before Christina wrapped her arms around her neck, pulling her in closer. Their lips parted, allowing the kiss to deepen, Christina's tongue tentative as it caressed Farren's bottom lip, causing Farren to sigh into the kiss. She pulled Christina's body closer to her own, reveling in the soft curves and body heat.

Christina was losing herself in the kiss and the feel of Farren. Never in her life had she experienced anything like it. It felt so right, so utterly right. She felt like she'd been waiting for Farren her entire life: always there, right in front of her. Her body was on fire, her heart swelling to triple its normal size, ready to explode.

The kiss broke, leaving them both needing breath. Farren wasn't sure where to take it, not wanting to scare Christina, but no longer wanting to wait for what she knew was her destiny. She looked at the blonde, brushing a few stray strands out of green eyes. Christina saved her the trouble of deciding what to do next.

“I really want you to come home with me,” the blonde said softly. “Please?”

Farren nodded. Nothing more need to be said.

The drive to Christina's house was quiet, Farren following closely behind, and parking in Christina's driveway. Together they walked to the front door, Christina amazingly calm as she managed to get the right key, and the door unlocked and opened. She felt a certain calmness over her, borne out of the fact that she knew this was right and that it was absolutely what she wanted. She now realized that all the other times when she couldn't go through with it, it was because it was wrong, with the wrong person. Somewhere inside, her soul Farren there, and wasn't going to let Christina settle for anything less than it ever did.

Farren followed the blonde through the house, up the stairs and finally into Christina's bedroom. She didn't even bother to take in the décor; it didn't matter. They stood beside the queen-sized bed, facing each other and slowly, yet methodically, removing their own clothing. She couldn't take her eyes off Christina's unbelievably beautiful body as ore of it was revealed.

“You are so beautiful, Farren,” Christina said, almost as if reading the brunette's mind. In bra and unzipped jeans, she covered the short distance to Farren and stopped Farren's movements by covering her hands with her own. “Let me.”

Farren let her hands fall to her sides, watching as Christina finished unbuttoning her shirt, the material sliding off her shoulders and down her arms, where it pooled at her feet. Like Christina, she now was in her bra and unzipped pants.

Christina's eyes feasted off the bared flesh, begging for more. With tentative fingers, she traced the lines of prominent collarbones, then over the lines of Farren's throat and then down to tease just above the white, satin cups of her bra.

“Farren?” she said softly.

“Yes?” Farren's response was breathy, Christina's touch taking her breath away.

“Do you think I've always been… gay?”

The look on the blonde's face told Farren she was serious, and needed a serious response. “I don't think it's a ‘gay' thing, Christina. I think you just weren't ready before.”

“Weren't ready for what? Sex?”

Farren shook her head. “Weren't ready to love, or be loved. You had to wait until it was right.”

Christina considered that for a moment. “It is right now, isn't?”

Farren nodded. “Oh yes. It is very right.”

Christina succumbed easily to the kiss, sighing as their naked stomachs came into contact. Farren's skin was so warm against hers, sending thrills all through her body. As the kiss continued, deepening to a level of passion that burned them both, she felt Farren reach around her, deft fingers unclasping her bra. A chill rushed through her as the straps slid down her arms.

The kiss broke, but Farren's mouth continued on a path down her jaw line to her neck. “Does this still feel right to you?” she whispered against the hot skin.

Christina's eyes were closed, her head arched to the side to offer more to the questing lips and tongue. “My god, yes,” she breathed.

Farren chuckled lightly, reaching behind herself to unclasp her own bra, which easily fell to the floor. “Then you'll love this.”

Christina gasped at the feel of Farren's soft breasts pressing against her own. She looked down, marveling at the sight. “So beautiful,” she whispered, in awe.

She felt soft hands push into the open waistband of her jeans, shoving the denim down, which she stepped out of, after shoving off her shoes. She removed her own socks and panties as Farren removed the rest of her own clothing, leaving them to stare at the other.

“My god, Christina. I knew you had an incredible body, but wow…” She had no words for the perfection that stood before her. Little did she know, Christina felt the same way.

Instead of voicing her thoughts, Christina moved over to the bed, tossing throw pillows to the floor and pulling the comforter down to bare maroon sheets. She climbed on the bed, her nerves returning as she lay on her back. She watched as Farren crawled over to her, gently easing Christina's legs apart and settling hips between them.

Christina's eyes slid closed at the feeling, even more wetness gathering between her legs than already had. She ran her hands down Farren's back, loving the smooth flesh beneath her fingertips, following all the curves and valleys that was her lower back and backside. She responded as Farren's mouth found hers again, the kiss deep and passionate as Farren's hips moved ever so slowly, just enough to stimulate both their bodies.

Farren moved her mouth back to Christina's neck, gently sucking and licking her way down the column of throat, dipping her tongue into the hollow. She could feel Christina's body responding nicely to hers, her hips slowly gyrating in time with hers, their juices mixing and making skin slick.

“You taste so amazing,” Farren whispered, licking a trail up to an earlobe. She heard the small gasp as she took it between her teeth, running her tongue over it, in a very similar fashion to what she'd be doing to the first nipple she came across in a matter of moments. “You taste amazing, you feel amazing.”

Christina had no logical thought processes left, and couldn't think of a single thing to say. All she could do was feel and experience. A soft moan escaped her lips as Farren kissed along her collarbones and down between her breasts.

Farren smiled when she felt fingers begin to play in her hair as she got closer to Christina's breasts. As sensitive as the blonde seemed to be with just her neck, she knew she was very much going to enjoy her reactions to her breasts. She moved her body further down between Christina's legs, feeling the slickness on her stomach as she brought her mouth to Christina's left breast.

Christina gasped loudly as her nipple was suddenly surrounded by warmth, the tip batted by a firm tongue She'd never felt anything like it, and it was almost as though a cord connected her nipple and clit, both pulsing in tandem with each touch of Farren's tongue. She cupped the back of the brunette's head, holding her in place, her hips beginning to try and find purchase on something to get some relief.

Not willing to chance Christina coming too soon, Farren repositioned her body, ignoring the whimper from the woman beneath her. She moved to the other breast with her mouth, one of her hands trailing down along a flat stomach and over a prominent hip bone, and finally to a muscular thigh, which she gently pulled on, pulling Christina's bent leg up a bit higher against Farren's side.

Any bit of thought – or ability to think – had definitely left Christina as she lost herself in the sensations of what Farren was doing to her. She knew what was coming as the other woman kissed and licked a fiery trail down the center line of Christina's body. Her clit was pulsing in time with her heartbeat, which in itself was nearly driving her over the edge. It wouldn't take much. The wonderful thing about this feeing was, her nerves had also gone with her ability to think. She'd basically been turned into one giant nerve ending.

Farren could smell Christina's need as she neared her hips. Finally, she reached her goal, lifting the strong legs so they were both over her shoulders, giving Farren a front row seat to bliss.

A long, languid moan escaped Christina's lips at the warm stroke of Farren's tongue. Her head fell to the side, eyes closed as all senses disappeared one by one, save for touch. Her hand once again found Farren's head, fingers lazily running through silky strands, matching the rhythm of the tongue against her flesh.

Farren was taking her time, allowing herself to absorb the tastes and smells, and wanting to prolong Christina's pleasure as much as possible. Even so, she could tell the blonde was close. As the moans turned to whimpers, which grew more desperate, she decided to let her go.

Christina cried out, her body convulsing as she crashed into oblivion, holding Farren's head to her, half wanting her to stop, half begging her to never stop. Finally, it became too much, and she pushed Farren away from her, needing a break.

Farren kissed her way back up Christina's body, nearly purring in satisfaction of a job well done. When she reached Christina's mouth, the kiss was intense and filled with molten passion.

Though tired, at the first feel of Farren's lips, Christina was on fire. She wanted to touch her, to bestow the same gift that she'd received moments before. She broke away from the kiss, looking up into Farren's face. “Tell me what to do,” she said quietly, pushing Farren to her back, and rolling on top of her.

“It's not gonna take much,” Farren assured, taking one of Christina's hands and bringing between her thighs. She groaned at the touch. “God, yessssss.”

Christina's mouth immediately found Farren's breast as her fingers played in the copious wetness. “Did I do all this?” she asked against a firm nipple, her fingers wiggling in the sodden flesh.

“Yes. God, yes,” Farren whimpered, her legs opening wider in invitation. “Inside, baby. Please go inside.”

Christina sucked the nipple into her mouth as she found Farren's opening, easily sliding two fingers inside, a wet sound following. She was amazed at the feeling of being inside Farren. She could stay there forever. She pulled her fingers back out, only to slide them back in a moment later, her tongue attacking the nipple with increasing vigor.

“Baby yes. Oh yes, Christy…” Farren was losing herself in the sensations that were coursing through her.

Christina moved to the other breast, sucking harder as her thrusts increased, the bed squeaking slightly from the rhythm. Farren's breathing was getting faster, her hips moving in time with her thrusts.

“Come here,” Farren begged, pulling Christina's mouth to her own. The kiss was intense, desperate and sloppy. Farren needed that intimate connection with Christina as she came, which she did a moment later, crying out her pleasure into Christina's mouth.

Christina's movements stilled, Farren's inner muscles clenching around her fingers, holding them captive. She stayed put, awed as she watched Farren's climax cross through her features. It was one of the most beautiful tings she'd ever seen.

As Farren's body began to relax, Christina removed her fingers and brushed some damp hair from the brunette's face, comforting her with gentle caresses. “That was so beautiful, Farren,” she whispered, raining tiny kisses all over her face.

Farren smiled, eyes still closed as she enjoyed the touches and kisses. “Yes it was.” She opened her eyes, falling into the green gaze mere inches from her own. “More than friends?”

Christina grinned, nodding. “Much, much more.” She placed a kiss on Farren's lips. “Lucky me, huh?”

“Eh, what can I say? You've got that winning touch.”

Christina laughed, leaning in for a long, exploratory kiss, which led to much, much more exploring.

The End.