The Carrot Cake Cycle
by Drools Thrills

Disclaimers: The characters in this story belong to Jules Mills, who kindly, if unwisely, allowed me to borrow them. Thank you, Jules. You are a brave woman.
Subtext/Maintext Warning: Are you kidding?? Dana and Grace?? For those of you just joining us, this story is about two women in love. Their relationship is characterized by wild mood swings that include passionate sex (that would be with each other), usually followed by angst-ridden break-ups.
Carrot Cake Warning: It’s a dangerous recipe. Too delicious.
Bardic Apologies: Merwulf (who is some nutso, not the real Merwolf) seems to be channelling new entities. This one claims to be Drools Thrills. My apologies to Jules and anyone with a salivary gland disorder.
Special Thanks to my partners in this crime: A lifetime supply of chocolate fudge ice cream to Li’lZon and Lauracy.

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Part One. Ingredients.
3 cups grated carrots, 4 eggs, 2 cups sugar, 1 cups salad oil, 2 cups flour, 2 tbsp soda, tsp salt, 2 tbsp cinnamon, 1 small can crushed pineapple, walnuts.

Dana looked up at the sated face of her lover from where her head reclined nibbling on a thigh. Grace let out a satisfied sigh. Dana smirked at having brought that look of contentment and ceased her nibbling long enough to say, “Have you finally had enough??”

“Um huh,” Grace mumbled around the fingers she was licking clean.

Dana chuckled, “Sometimes I think you are insatiable, complaining that there are only two breasts..... I knew you would like my fried chicken, Grace.”

“Come here.” Grace said softly. Dana abandoned her chicken and leaned over Grace where she was lying on cushions on the floor. Grace stroked her cheek, then drew her down for a long kiss. As Dana drew back slightly, Grace whispered, “What’s for dessert?”

Dana used her breath to tickle an ear, then purred into it, “Carrot cake.”

Grace leaped up in her excitement, lifting Dana halfway up with her, “You made carrot cake?? I love carrot cake. Oh yum..” as she made a bee line for the kitchen.

Dana sighed and smiled at seeing Rip possessively gnawing on the thigh she’d dropped. “We won’t tell her you caught the chicken, Rip.”

“Grace,” Dana begged her gluttonous lover, “I can’t take anymore. You’ve used all 31 flavours of ice cream, achieving 108 orgasms between us....”

“109," Grace objected.

“109.... made me pass out 4 times.... and what’s with that yodelling thing?”

“I don’t know, it just sort of comes over me when I, you know......”

“Hunh, well, you keep getting louder. That last time rattled the windows.”

Grace’s reply was a muffled sound into Dana’s neck as she resumed her consumption.

“Please Grace, what about food? a shower? work? Don’t you want to find a cure for cancer anymore?”

“I’m hoping for an even number.” she mumbled as she continued to nibble an ear.

Dana grabbed her wandering hands, “Ok, it’s 108, I faked one.”

Grace jerked back, pulling her hands free, “You faked one? With me? How could you? Which one? Was it the boysenberry or the jamoca almond fudge?”

“Grace, don’t do this. I don’t want to spoil a flavour.”

“Faking is like lying! I can’t believe you lied to me about this, Dana!”

“Grace, stop it! Over 50 orgasms in one night.....”

As they argued, the Baskin-Robbins delivery truck outside pulled away; the stonefaced driver and his passenger having changed from their white smocks to their more familiar black suits.

It had been a bad fight and of course, they’d broken up. Dana had left the house dragging a rage behind her that was up to no good. Rift had whined to see her go, but Dana thought she’d be better off with Grace.

Three days later, Rachel found her. Dana had taken a job shovelling fish in a coal mine. Rachel had often wondered where Cajun dishes like blackened redfish came from, now she knew.

Dana was shovelling to the rhythm of an old song, “I’ve been working on the fish-road, all the live long day, I’ve been working on the fish-road, just to perch the time away...”

Rachel announced her presence by singing the chorus, “Someone’s in the coal mine with Dana...”

Dana threw a shovel full of trout at her to shut her up. “What are you doing here, Rach?”

“Oh, I just thought I’d come by and smoke a few fish with you.....”

Dana stopped shovelling and leaned an elbow on the handle as she regarded her friend, “If you tell me ‘but I don’t know where to get Zig-Zags big enough to roll ‘em in, I’ll think you’ve already been smoking.”

Rachel grinned shamelessly at her friend. “So, you just doing this for the halibut?”

Dana groaned. “I came here to get away from your bad puns. Why are you here, Rachel?”

Suddenly serious, “She needs you.”

Dana’s jaw locked, her good humour gone, “Don’t go there, Rachel. It’s none of your business.”

“Dana, have you been too busy shovelling fish to log on and check your email?”

“^Do I look like I’m packing a computer?”

“There’s a new virus, and I think Grace’s got it.”

Dana dropped her shovel and began to race for the exit of the mine, pulling Rachel along with her. “Tell me what you know so far.”

“Well, I think it’s some kind of counter-espionage virus. It sort of, um, disables whoever has it and um, usually, um well, at least one or maybe two others...”

Dana stopped in her tracks and glared at Rachel, “Is she going to die? What do you mean disables?”

“Well, from what I can get from the net, it makes a person insatiable sexually, and well, first you didn’t come to work for a week, then Grace finally shows without you, but she’s flushed all the time and we keep hearing yodelling... Apparently that’s one of the symptoms. The yodels get louder and louder. She’s already breaking windows. And you can’t buy batteries anywhere in the city......they’re all out. She’s going to black out the Eastern Seaboard if we don’t stop her.”

“Stop her? Who wants to stop her? It’s been three days already, Rachel... 3 long lonely days....” Doc said as she raced home to her sex-crazed partner.

Rachel rolled her eyes and followed along.

Part Two. Heat.
Stir together, pour in large pan and bake at 300-325 degrees for 1 hour.

Dana leaped out of the Porsche before Rachel had completely stopped the car. They’d heard yodelling from a block away and Dana was anxious to be reunited with the source of that cry.

Grace met them at the door and latched onto Dana like white on rice. By the time Rachel had grabbed a couple of beers and gone back outside to the deck, Dana and Grace were screwing on the couch like crazed weasels.

Rachel poured some beer into the dog’s bowl, “Here, I hate to drink alone.” As the yodelling commenced, Rachel and Ripped were both rolling their eyes. “That’s what I’m calling this one, Ripped, the Super-Weasel Virus.”

Dana dropped into the chair next to Rachel and began to swivel back and forth while she waited. The computer genius pulled up the files the nanotech had requested, the results from the sample of the virus they’d gotten from Grace. “There ya go,” not taking her eyes off the screen.

Dana studied the readout and then sat back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. “Yup, it’s a nano virus. Looks like somebody tailored it to purposefully infect Grace, probably to stop me from working.” Damn, she thought as she replaced her glasses and focused on the task at hand.

“How can you tell, Doc?”

“See that component right there?” She continued after Rachel nodded. “The most logical thing to do with a virus like this is make it random. Your victim is attracted to anything that moves. That component is a Lunacy Subroutine. Means Grace imprints on me and won’t have sex with anyone else. Not logical, therefore, I’m the target. It’s to take me out of action.”

“Are you sure you didn’t design this one yourself, Doc?”

Dana flashed a 100-watt, self-satisfied grin, “I don’t need a virus to spoil her for anyone else, Rachel.”

The moment was shattered by flying glass as a yodel of sonic proportions came down the hallway followed by a dishevelled Grace. Apparently the sedative had worn off . She turned Dana’s chair around and straddled her lap, running a thumb over lips she had been dreaming. Her eyes searched Dana’s for an answering spark. Doc took her thumb into her mouth and gently sucked on it causing Grace to gasp, then swoon as she felt hands running over sensitive skin.

Rachel rolled her eyes. She grabbed a beer and jerked her head toward the door. The dog padded after her, glad to be away from the two women going at it like bonobo monkeys hanging from the trees. “That’s enough to make you barf, isn’t it Ralph.”

The neighbour Mrs. Nesmith waved an invitation to Rachel. She and Ralph meandered over through the sand and joined the older woman who was sitting out on her deck with binoculars and a book open across her lap. Rachel pulled up a chair and introduced herself. Ralph, already acquainted with neighbours who gave treats to dogs, settled in at Mrs. Nesmith’s feet, eyeing her hopefully.

“Bird watching?” Rachel asked, taking a swig of beer.

“Oh no, dear. Gave that up last year when the tall one moved in next door.” She held up the book from across her lap at Rachel’s perplexed look. “Kama Sutra. You can see I’ve already got 143 positions checked off. The girls in my bridge club are quite fascinated!” She took a quick look through her binoculars, “Cover your ears dear, here she comes.” Rachel’s beer bottle shattered in her hand as the yodel rolled over them and down the beach. Ralph sat up and howled along. Mrs. Nesmith checked off another page. Rachel rolled her eyes.

When Rachel went back into the house they were arguing.

“I don’t understand why you want to find a cure. You don’t want me anymore?” Grace pouted.

“It’s not that, Grace. I always want you. I just don’t like being manipulated!” Doc pleaded.

“Oh, so now I’m manipulating you into having sex with me..” Grace flared.

As they argued, Rachel brought in another supply of batteries then waited in the car. Rift had decided to come with her, thinking Rachel would at least remember to feed her, if not share more beer. Eventually, Grace came flying out the back door and stormed down the beach. Doc stepped out the front, fists clenched, her gut wound tighter than a hot drum. Rachel watched her walk toward wide open spaces with a ground eating pace, then started up the car to follow. She noticed the ice cream truck that cruised behind her playing it’s insidious tune.

After 5 miles, Rachel pulled up along side the nanotech. She rolled down the windows so she could ask, “So, you break up?”

Dana just glared at her in answer.

“Get in Doc. We need to go cook up a cure for the Hoochie Coochie Blues.”

Dana stopped and leaned on the roof of the car, staring down incredulously at her musically impaired friend. “Hoochie Coochie Blues? What’s that Rachel, some lame camp song?” But she got in the car.

Rachel sped off to the labs burning Doc’s ears with her Janis Joplin impersonation. “I go a body like a lizard.....”

“Rach, she never sang that song, stop it!”

Rachel looked over at her friend with a shit-eating grin and hit the gas while she croaked out another line, “I got a mind like a snake........” Rift rolled her eyes and howled.

“Why did you put the Hoochie Coochie Nanos in carrot cake, Doc?”

“They’re not Hoochie Coochie Nanos. They’re Anti Super-Weasel Virus Nanos, and I put them in carrot cake cause Grace likes it. Good delivery system.” She finished spreading the frosting, then lifted a hypo canister, “And this is a self-replicating cure with a twist.”

Rachel loved the evil grin on her friend’s face. “You gonna tell me what it does?”

“Nope. But I’m gonna tell you what I want you to do with it.” She said coyly as she handed over the canister and filled Rachel in on the plan.

“So, then you want me to take you to the boat and tell Grace where you are, right?”

“Yup, that Lunacy Subroutine will make her come to me as soon as the batteries run out. How many did you leave her?” Doc checked her watch, “We’d better hurry.”

Part Three. Frosting.
4 cups powdered sugar, 2 tsp vanilla, lb. Butter, 8 oz. Cream Cheese, 1 cup walnuts. Mix together till creamy.

Rachel loved to see a plan come together. She sat on the dock with Riptide, beer in hand, and watched Grace roll up in her jeep. Just like clock-work she thought. Grace hopped out and trotted down the dock to the right berth. As she disappeared onboard, the ice cream truck pulled quietly into the parking lot. Rachel chuckled and put down her beer. “This is where we come in Riptide.” She picked up the canister and casually walked her dog off the dock and toward the trees behind the parking lot. Then she doubled back and slipped the canister into the back window where you usually could buy ice cream. She then resumed the walk with her dog. Unseen by the trucks inhabitants.

The blond was beyond pride. She stood framed in the doorway of the galley, absorbing the sight of her heart’s desire. Dana looked sideways over to her from where she was cooking, a hopeful smile on her lips. Grace was caught in blue like a deer in headlights. Her heart raced, green eyes glazed in desire. She reached for the table to steady herself as her knees became weak, drawing her inside the cabin.

“You need to eat, Grace. It’s just eggs. I was a little rushed.” She said as she turned, plate in hand and set it on the table.

Breathless, Grace broke off her gaze into Dana’s eyes and glanced briefly at the food incongruously in front of her. Tears filled her vision and she reached out to curl a tentative hand around Doc’s. “You, you still cook for me?” Stunned at this act of normal everyday caring. It wasn’t what she wanted to say as she brought Dana’s warm hand to her lips.

Dana cupped her cheek, wiping a tear away with her thumb, and answered the deeper question. “I will always be here for you, Grace. Now eat, cause I’ve got plans.” she said as she suggestively waggled her eyebrows.

Grace laughed as she was crying. She snuggled into Dana’s embrace with a relieved sigh and sobbed a little harder, then ate the meal prepared for her. Laughingly she asked, “So, what’s for dessert, Doc?”

“Hmmmm, your favourites. I made you carrot cake and I brought ice cream, carnal fudge.”

Grace wrapped herself tightly around her love and rasped in her ear, “Bring them to the bed.”

Rachel heard the sonic yodel from her post on the dock. The boat had been rocking so hard it was setting up mini tidal waves. Fish were being whapped against the sides and being scooped up by enterprising fishermen. Rachel and Riptide rolled their eyes and Riptide howled. The sonic boom from that last yodel brought a day’s catch to the surface. It also released the sound-activated lock on the canister Rachel had placed in the ice cream truck. The two stiff suits inside were immediately infected with their own virus and imprinted on each other. For the next 24 hours, they rolled around in melting ice cream making like amorous bunnies. When the virus wore off, they were both too embarrassed to report it back to their superiors. What they didn’t know was that they were now carriers of a 24-hour Super-Weasel Virus. When they reported in to their boss, they would pass it on with their briefing.

Grace came barrelling off the boat at breakneck speed, half-dressed and carrying a melting half gallon of ice cream. She raced by Rachel yelling, “Let’s go!” Puzzled, Rachel and Rip looked at each other and chased after her.

“Where’s Doc?” to which Grace held up the carton of ice cream and leaped into the jeep tossing Rachel the keys.

“Hospital, now, drive!!!” Graced yelled frantically. Rachel started up the car and glancing back at the boat for a sign from Doc, gunned it and broke land speed records getting to the hospital.

Once there, Grace again bolted from the car, carrying her ice cream, and streaked into the emergency room calling out orders. When Rachel entered the ER she saw Grace behind double doors, hunched over the ice cream. She drew out a thumb and gently placed it in the regenerator. She adjusted the chemicals with the computer and then laid her forehead against the chamber holding the thumb.

“Grace, what the hell happened? Where’s Doc, who’s thumb is that?” Rachel demanded, the adrenaline finally getting to her.

Rip whined and sniffed the chamber, then put her head back and howled.

“That thumb is Doc, Rachel. Or it will be in a week.” she said sadly, touching the glass.

“What?? What happened?” Grace took Rachel by the arm and drew her away from the busy staff who were now checking the thumb’s vital signs and checking the regenerator’s power sources.

“She didn’t give me the carrot cake right away. I mean, we used the frosting, and I’m sure that helped.”

“Helped?? You’re telling me Doc is a thumb and that’s cause something went right?” Rachel was beyond shocked at this point.

“Sshh, Rachel. We didn’t know how dangerous this Super-Weasel Virus could be. Things just got... well, things just got a little too hot.”

“Grace, what do you mean, they got too hot? What happened to Doc?” pinning reluctant green eyes with her determination to know what happened to her friend.

Thoroughly embarrassed, Grace blurted out, “Oh Geez, Rachel, she said, ‘you’re making me catch fire baby.’ And then she did. Spontaneous Come-bustion.”

“WHAAAAAT?? Is that even possible?? You’re telling me you actually friggin’ know..... to death??”

“She’s not dead!! We got her here in time. She’ll be ok. We’re cloning her from her thumb.”

“You’re telling me that a thumb survived and that Doc is ... that.... how did her thumb survive Grace?” Rachel’s knees gave out and she looked for a chair. “Grace?”

“It was...........” Grace said sheepishly. “Oh hell, it was wet enough that it didn’t burn.”

Rachel slumped into her chair and laughed so hard she couldn’t breath.

A pale Dana lay in her hospital bed, tenderly stroking the hand between hers and listening to Grace’s story of her near demise and reconstruction. “Which one?” Dana asked holding up both hands for Grace’s inspection.

“The left.” Grace said stroking it softly.

“Good” Dana teased, “That was my favourite one.”

Grace smiled and kissed both the thumb and then it’s owner with aching gratitude that she still could.

“^Grace? Do you still think it’s just cellular memory? That I could be me from what you made from a thumb?”

“I don’t know what to believe, Dana. What do you think?” soft green eyes showed an unguarded vulnerability, having witnessed a miracle.

Dana locked onto her with desperate intensity, “I think I couldn’t leave without you. I think my soul cleaves to yours stronger than to flesh and bone. I think I am incomplete without you. I think it’s a miracle that you love me, and that alone makes me believe. I love you, Grace.”

Grace wiped tears from her eyes and nodded her head.

“Chipmunk?” Grace looked at her quizzically, “Do you think you could always keep at least one part of me tucked away for safe keeping incase this ever happens again?”

Grace laughingly slapped Doc’s arm and let herself be pulled into an embrace that made her want to believe in souls and meaning and forever.

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