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Disclaimers

Copyright: Although the main characters in the following do bear a strong resemblance to a cute couple with whom we are all familiar, all the characters in this work of fiction are the product of my own imagination and are therefore copyright to me.

For the rest of the disclaimers, please see the first chapter

Hunting Season

by Helen Smith, (continuum@sprint.ca) September, 2000

Chapter 2

Quinn toed off her boots beside the bed, then pulled the Glock free of its clip, checked the load once more, and set it on the bedside table. As she started to unbuckle her gun belt a hand forestalled her.

"Nuh uh. My job." Ariel crouched, unfastened the holster's strap then completed unfastening the buckle. She laid the holster aside, smiled up at her lover, then took her time unfastening Quinn's jeans. Using both hands she slid jeans and underwear off her lover's hips and down impossibly long legs to the floor.

"C'mere." Quinn lifted her lover and enfolded her. Ariel in turn slipped her arms around the now naked woman and pulled her close, sliding her hands up, and then down Quinn's sides until they came to rest on the taller woman's waist, at her back.

"Ummm. Hey," murmured Quinn, breaking a long, deep kiss, to look into Ariel's eyes. The honey blonde smiled and leaned up again to continue the contact, sliding her arms around the taller woman's neck as she did so.

Quinn dimly felt the edge of the bed behind her knees, and shortly after found herself stretched out with Ariel on top of her. The honey blonde was kissing and sucking the taller woman everywhere from her neck to her collarbones, while running her hands over her breasts.

Before Ariel could slide further down to give some oral attention to her breasts as well, Quinn slipped her hands up under Ariel's T-shirt and pulled it off. As her lover went to work with her mouth on the dark-haired woman's nipples (Oh Goddess!) Quinn caught her breath, then found and unfastened the waistband of the smaller woman's long skirt. Ariel paused briefly to divest herself of the skirt and her underwear then returned to stoking Quinn's fire to fever pitch.

The taller woman was awash in sensation. Her lover's hands, lips, teeth and tongue were everywhere, touching, biting, stroking her body to higher and higher levels. Quinn's whole world was compressed into the here and now as her lover made her forget anything beyond that room, that bed. Then at last she reached the summit, and slid over, weightless.

"Wow." Quinn took a breath. She wasn't sure her heart was going to stay in her chest, it seemed to be jumping all over. "You are something." Ariel lifted her head from where it was pillowed on Quinn's breast and flashed her a dazzling smile.

The writer laid her head back down and Quinn concentrated on breathing. The heavy scent of sex permeated the air, mixed with sweat and a faint hint of the shampoo her lover used. She was aware of their sweat-slicked bodies pressed closely together, the quiet hum of the air-conditioning system and the wail of a siren in the distance.

Lips brushed her nipple, making it spring to acute attention.

"Hey," exclaimed Quinn. "My turn to lead."


The dark haired woman opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling as the first rays of the morning sun found their way into the bedroom. She glanced at the clock. 6:15. Kinda early, but then again, they had gone to bed early. But not to sleep, a little voice noted in her mind. That was true. They did everything but sleep for at least the first two hours. Quinn wondered idly who the first person was to use "sleep with" as a euphemism for sex.

"Curiouser and curiouser."

"You're quoting Lewis Carroll?" a muffled voice asked.

Quinn glanced to her left. Ariel was looking at her through sleepy eyes. Her lover lay partly on her side and partly on her stomach, with one leg pulled up slightly. Quinn liked the way it raised her ass.

The dark-haired woman turned on her side to face the honey blonde. "Yeah, well. Stream of consciousness, ya know. I was thinking about what we did last night and pretty soon I was onto rabbit holes. Point A to point B. It's really quite easy."

The green eyes looked thoughtful. "We fucked like rabbits."

"Got it in one."

A small hand slid lightly across her stomach, only the tips of the fingers touching, making Quinn's muscles jump. Ariel smiled lazily. "Speaking of rabbits ..."

Quinn caught the straying hand and brought it to her lips. "Love to, but places to go, people to see. Besides, didn't you tell me at dinner you've got an 8:30 appointment with Edward and you wanted to make some notes ahead of time. Remember?"

"Ungh. I don't know why we can't do a conference call. Then I wouldn't have to go all the way down there, and I could sleep long ..." Ariel burrowed back into her pillow.

Whack!

"Ow!" Accusatory green eyes glared at her.

"C'mon sleepyhead. You know you love the old goat, and besides, you said yourself you've got a lot of business to discuss. If you go back to sleep you really won't have much time to spare."

The eyes softened a bit and considered her thoughtfully. "Alright, on one condition. Shower with me."

"Hmmm." Quinn rubbed her chin. "It'll have to be a quickie."

"I can work with that."

Quinn grinned. "Alright rabbit. Lead on."


7:15 found them in the kitchen getting breakfast. Quinn busied herself with the coffee maker while Ariel pulled various things out of the fridge. The smaller woman hummed to herself, swaying her hips in time to music from the info feed as she assembled the meal. She was pleasantly sated and it was still early (no, make that very early), she was with the woman she adored, and she had managed to pay Quinn back with a strategically snapped wet towel in the bathroom when the other woman hadn't been looking. All in all, not a bad start to the day.

Quinn clicked the info feed to the video setting and surfed rapidly through the channels. "Cartoon, cartoons, cartoons. Movie star. Weather. Shit, its over. Idiots overjoyed to be on the info feed for the first time. Sports figures. More sports figures. More idiots. Writer promoting tell-all book. Musicians. Ah. Finally, something interesting." She adjusted the sound and straddled a chair, rested her arms across the back and settled down to watch.

"Tell me Senator," said a perfectly coifed, exceedingly well-dressed, extremely handsome anchor, "realistically, how much support can you count on in your bid to get lethal injection re-instated as the execution method of choice?"

"A good question, John, a very good question." A gray-haired man with movie star looks and a million dollar wardrobe relaxed comfortably in front of the camera. "We believe that we have support on all sides of the political spectrum, but we have to mobilize it, and that's what we're working on right now."

The anchor turned to a monitor next to his guest. "Reverend, what do you say to that?" The screen was filled with the image of a man who couldn't compete with the other two in looks and, although well dressed, wasn't trying to in apparel. "Well, John, unlike my friend the Senator, I'm a plain old-fashioned boy. The GOOD BOOK says that GAWD will smite his enemies DO-O-WN. Now, what is a murderer or a rapist or a drug dealer if not an Enemy of GAWD? And it seems to me that 'lectricity makes a pretty good weapon, else why does GA-A-WD toss so much of it around on hot summer nights?" The man sat back with a self-satisfied smirk.

The camera once again focused on the face of the handsome anchor. "Why indeed. Thank you gentlemen. We'd love to continue this but we're out of time. If you want your say on the method of execution used, be sure to go to our web site ..."

"Shit." Quinn turned down the sound as the anchor wrapped up that segment and the network shifted to a commercial for Erect, a penile implant. A fading movie star, veteran of two dozen high action dramas and two ugly divorces, spoke earnestly about his inability to satisfy his much younger wife until surgical implantation of the device saved his marriage. The commercial concluded with her sitting on his lap while the two of them beamed at each other.

"Think he's got a chance?"

"The senator? Not likely." Quinn turned her chair around and sat down to eat the omelet and toast that Ariel set before her. "Electrocution is too visually satisfying. Body straining against straps for seconds at a time. Or better yet, feet and hands beating a tattoo on the floor and the arms of the chair. And the smoke curling slowly up from under the mask. Works for me," she added sarcastically.

"I understand that some of his supporters would be satisfied with a firing squad as the approved method. You think that might fly?"

"Nope. I grant you it has a bit more visual impact than an injection, but shooting, judicial shooting that is, is just over too quickly. Bang. Body slumps. Blood pools."

Ariel sipped her coffee, thoughtfully. "I remember, when I was a little girl, that the debate wasn't about what method but whether or not to do it at all. How the hell did we get to this point?!"

The smaller woman stood suddenly and began to pace back and forth, waving her hands for emphasis. "I mean, at one time we had a moratorium on executions. Now we have public ones. Then there's people shooting each other in the streets, or better yet, office buildings and schools! Of course, there's 'righteous shoots.'" Ariel paused to sneer the phrase. "Someone's trying to shoot you or your loved ones, then you're at liberty to shoot back. But if it's not 'righteous,'" again the sneer, "what's our answer? Fry 'em. And do it publicly." She turned to Quinn, who was watching quietly from her chair. "Did you hear that the court turned down the Pearson boy's appeal? They're going to kill him today. He's 14 years old. HE'S 14 YEARS OLD! What the HELL is WRONG WITH THIS COUNTRY?"

Quinn jumped up and wrapped her arms around her lover, rubbing her back and murmuring soothing words. After a minute Ariel calmed.

"I'm ok. Just ... it was just too much there for a minute."

"I'm sorry I turned that on, Love, I..."

"No." Ariel placed a finger over Quinn's lips. "It's everywhere. I can't avoid it, short of retiring to a mountain top and never coming down."

Quinn kissed her softly. "Um, why don't I clear this stuff away and you go make your notes for your meeting? I'll give you a ride when you're ready."

Ariel smiled slightly, and caressed Quinn's cheek. "Thanks. Shouldn't take me long."

One final kiss and Ariel left the room. Quinn emptied the coffee maker, put away the bread, butter, jam and juice, then picked up the dirty dishes and began placing them in the dishwasher. The ride down to Ariel's publisher's office should be reasonably quick, she thought, since the Expressway should be open this morning. But she'd have to keep that execution in mind later in the day if she were going in that general direction. "Damn public executions," she muttered.

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