Disclaimer: Xena, Gabrielle and Eve are owned by Pacific Renaissance/MCA Universal/USA Studios. I have only borrowed some of their identifying characteristics for this work of original fiction.
Content Warning: This is a story of two women who are very much in love. There are many love scenes. While most are rated PG13, a few are more graphic. If you are under the age of consent where you live or have homophobic tendencies, please give this story a miss. Thanks!
Language: Imagine Xena in the 1990's – yep, she swears. And she's a cop, so there's some violence too.
"New Age" Content warning: I'm a "new age" kind of girl, so my characters are too. All new age/metaphysical type occurrences presented here are actual phenomena that I have personally experienced.
Author's note: This is my first story. Since I really have no idea just how good or bad this may be, I would welcome comments and constructive criticism. Flames and homophobic mail will be joyously burned in a ceremonial cleansing ritual :-)

The story is currently approximately 75% complete at 15 parts and roughly 325k.  All parts can be found at: http://www.xenarealm.com/th.html

Thanks for reading! – JL, 2001 headgeek@xenarealm.com
 

July, 1994

A pair of hawks, the fourth such that she had seen over the last several miles, soared above the highway on thermals of air rising from the foot of the low mountain range. The late morning sun glared brilliantly off the windshield of the black Jeep Wrangler as it traveled east along California 580, a 2-lane ribbon of highway cutting between sculptured golden foothills of dried, knee-high grass. Hundreds of giant electricity-generating windmills on either side of the road stood like sentries above the San Joaquin Valley below. Most of them were idle, oddly enough, during this heat wave. The driver scowled under mirrored Ray Bans, marveling at the incredible inefficiency of the current State Government and wondered if anything would change when (not if!) a Democrat returned to the Governorship. One would hope, but probably not. At least we have a Democrat in the White House now, the political activist thought. She glanced up at the hawks again, enjoying their graceful beauty as she tried to remember the hawk's message from traditional Native American lore. She nodded as it came to her: Hawk is the messenger, reminding you to look for omens and signals in your life and to take the long view. Circle over your life from above if necessary and examine it. Thank you hawk-friends. That is exactly what I've been doing.

The hot wind blowing in through the half-opened side window blew her shoulder-length blonde hair across her face. She smiled, enjoying the feeling of freedom that the wind and the road beneath her wheels gave her, forgetting for the time being her pessimism and her disgust at the current state of politics. It was good to feel free again. Well, not so much free as unencumbered. Home. Wonder if it will still feel like home? she mused. Even as seemingly sure as she was that this move was the right one for her at that point in her life, she still had trouble believing that anyplace other than her beloved San Francisco could ever truly be home for her again.

Janna Norden, at thirty-two, felt almost like a teenager again. She felt an enthusiasm and an excitement not unlike that which she had felt the first time she had left home. This time, of course, it was tempered by maturity and by life experience, but it was a definite enthusiasm nonetheless: an eagerness to begin anew. It had been a long six months. Six months? If she were really honest with herself she would have to admit that it had actually been a long fourteen years. Fourteen years since she had left home, at eighteen, to "find herself". Find herself she had, eventually, in San Francisco's punk rock and GLBT activism scenes. She had, through sheer self-determination and hard work, become a successful musician – in a field where success is most often fleeting at best, especially for a woman. She had plugged away as a guitarist, or a bassist, or a drummer (whatever was needed) in increasingly competent bands until she had landed in one that had, for a brief time, hit the "big time". That brief stint at the top had been all that had been required to establish herself as a serious, accomplished musician and to set herself up in the relatively stable career of a session artist and occasional producer.

But the lifestyle of her chosen profession had slowly eaten away at her. Not that she was particularly self-destructive, she wasn't, but being immersed in that world and seeing friend after friend dragged down, and worse, dead, had taken it's toll. She was ready for a change. Her excursion into photography had given her the opportunity to make that change. Gigs and recording sessions had slowly given way to photographing concerts and artists, which had in turn increasingly given way to scenic and nature shoots. She began spending much more time outdoors than in and was enjoying it immensely. She had begun to dread the days when she would be trapped in a studio all day, thinking about how she would rather be at the seaside or in the mountains, rather than about the task at hand. So, recently, she had quit the music biz completely. She felt very lucky, and grateful, that through prudent investing of residual earnings, she had acquired financial independence and was now able to support herself in her new career. Almost at once she had started to feel more balanced – happier.

With the career change, however, came imbalance in her personal life. Most of her friends and all of her lovers whom, remarkably, you could count on one hand, given her profession (if you didn't count half-remembered drunken early-years encounters with fans), had been musicians. Her last serious relationship had ended nearly a year ago and she had been so badly burned that she had not even been tempted to date since. She had made some good friends in the queer scene, though and that had helped to fill the void she felt. She was able to do good work, helping others, lending her "name" to charity events and fundraising organizations. Unfortunately, the fulfillment and joy of helping others, and especially, that of working with pediatric AIDS patients, was offset by the pain of losing friends to the dread plague. In the last year alone she had lost two close friends to the disease. It was not without surprise that she had recently begun to feel complete with that stage of her life, but it was with tremendous astonishment that she had started to feel a pull back towards home.

It was a strong gut feeling, an intuition, which had started to nag at her. She had learned somewhere along the line to trust her intuition, so here she was, on her way back to the hot, dry agricultural town where she had grown up. A town which held, as it's main claim to fame, its location halfway between San Francisco and the Sierras and was very proud of its inland seaport. It was a predominately conservative, homophobe ridden town existing somewhat uncomfortably within a predominately liberal state. Am I nuts? she wondered. Not receiving an answer, she drove on, musing silently about how strongly she felt that she needed to return home, despite the hot, flat ugliness of the place and the overriding narrow-mindedness of many of it's residents. Little did she know that she would very shortly have an encounter that would make the reason for her yearning all too obvious. As an L7 song blasted from the sound system, the driver drummed her fingers on the steering wheel and began her descent into the great
valley below, and into a new era of her life.

~~~~~~~~~~

Officer Ryan Zamora wiped her brow with a handkerchief and then readjusted her sunglasses under the bicycle helmet. God, it's hot, she thought, as the sun beat down incessantly and was soaked up by her dark uniform. The heat was made all the more unbearable by the bulletproof vest which she wore under her shirt. Only a few more hours of patrol and then she would have three days off. Her time off couldn't have come at a better time, she thought, what with this early July heat wave. As a bicycle patrol cop she didn't have the luxury of an air-conditioned patrol car to escape the heat in. Normally, she loved her job.
Loved being on the bike, keeping fit, interacting with people, and of course, loved being of service, but this prolonged heat was wiping her out. This despite the exceptional health and fitness level she enjoyed. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, so her shift was heating up as well. Her beat was downtown and the office workers would be heading home soon, creating a two-hour mass exodus from the center of the city. She had two hours of (hopefully) minor traffic accidents to look forward to, as well as the perpetual problems encountered when young, upwardly mobile business people were forced to interact with street
people, as they were here, on her beat.

Her partner, John Stewart, was up ahead of her, foot braced against the curb as he waited for her to catch up. He watched over his shoulder as she pushed off from the curb and approached him, admiring her tan, fit body and her self-assured attitude. She glided past him, grinning as she said, "What's the matter John, too hot for ya?" He laughed easily, knowing that it was indeed too hot for him, but it wasn't the weather that was affecting him – it was his beautiful partner. His beautiful, gay partner. Some girls have all the luck, he thought, not for the first time, with an internal shake of his head. He pushed off from the curb, still grinning as he followed his partner down the street. As they maneuvered along between the grid locked traffic heading north and the sidewalk equally grid locked with pedestrians, Ryan couldn't help but grin sardonically at the fact that her partner, once again, had managed to situate himself behind her. Guys! She shook her head, her short, dark hair waving gently, momentarily cooling her overheated neck, as she pedaled on.

33-year old Ryan Zamora had been a cop for over a dozen years and had found it to be an extremely fulfilling and exciting career. She was doing the only thing that she had ever really wanted to do. Despite that fulfillment, in the last six months or so she had begun to feel as if something were missing from her life. She had an inkling that it might have something to do with her private life, or lack thereof, but that was such a disquieting idea that she refused to stop and examine it. After the unparalleled disaster of her last relationship she wanted nothing more to do with love, romance, relationships, or commitment. She wanted only to throw herself into her vocation and her main avocation, which was softball. So driven was she in both her love of career and loathe of personal relationships that she had not seen anyone romantically in over two years. She had not had a single casual affair or even a one night stand, an activity with which she had been quite familiar in the past. She had not been so much as attracted to, or tempted by, any woman, much to the displeasure of many. So it was that she would not have been able to fathom the depth of the changes coming into her life very soon. Changes that would be initiated by her chance meeting with a 32-year old musician turned photographer on a hot, dry San Joaquin Valley evening in July.
 

    -1-

Her first two weeks back home went relatively smoothly for Janna. Her reunion with her family had been a happy one, despite their conservative (or was it just "old fashioned"?) beliefs. They had known, of course, of her "lifestyle", but the physical distance between them had softened their differences some. Now that she was home and they were seeing a lot of her, they had been forced to confront their attitudes and had been somewhat surprised to find that it wasn't all that big a deal – they loved their daughter for the good woman that she was, regardless of her sexual preference.

Both parents had even come to believe that their daughter's homosexuality hadn't actually been a choice on her part, nor had it been caused by something they had done wrong in raising her, but that she had simply been born that way. Janna considered this to be representative of significant growth on both her parents' parts and was extremely proud of them. For her part, Janna had tried to tone down that aspect of her life – not to hide who she was, for she would find that personally morally reprehensible, but simply to not be quite so "out". This was, after all, no longer San Francisco, where one could go about acting naturally in nearly complete safety. Here, she needed to be cautious. There were plenty of gay people, but they tended, of necessity, to either be inconspicuous or fairly well closeted.

Janna had also reconnected well with her brother, Dan. They had been very close growing up, due mainly to the fact that he was only a year younger than she was, and they were again enjoying a close, if mildly antagonistic, relationship. He was now a married father of two, and Janna absolutely doted on her young niece and nephew. They also enjoyed a good working partnership, as he was the General Contractor making the renovations to Janna's "new" home.

Her transition to self-employed homeowner was also progressing relatively smoothly . Six months earlier she had purchased a one hundred-year old Victorian-style home in the historic district near the center of town and was having it renovated, as well as adding a photographic studio and darkroom. As a renter in San Francisco, she had never had to concern herself with repairs or home improvement tasks but had found that she was enjoying these jobs very much. She left the heavy carpentry to the experts, of course, but surprised herself at how capable she was at the more basic tasks. She discovered that there was a certain amount of satisfaction in doing these things herself and was quite pleased with the results of her handiwork.

Also immensely satisfying was the newfound freedom to work her own hours and at her own pace, with the ability to leave for several days, on a whim, to work in the mountains or at the coast or in the foothills above her home valley. She had already had some success in finding local galleries and places of business in which to display her photographs, as well.

The only aspect of her life that wasn't entirely satisfactory was her social life. She hadn't been able to connect with a lot of her old friends, for various reasons, but mainly because she returned home a very different person than the teenager who had left there. She had left as bright-eyed, naïve girl, in search of adventure and had returned an experienced, somewhat jaded woman who had seen and done much more than almost all of her childhood friends had. So she now found herself alone most of the time and was unused to that. She really didn't mind being alone, in fact had always treasured her independence, but while living in the City had become accustomed to having plenty of gay and lesbian friends around. There, there was always something interesting to do and someone to do it with. Here, there was very little to do. At times she almost felt as if she had been transported to some vast wasteland. She, knew, before returning, that the slower pace of life would take some getting used to, but still found herself unprepared when the newness wore off and she found herself feeling lonely. There was so much to do around the house however, that she gave herself little time to be bored or to dwell on her situation.

It was on a Thursday that she heard from several friends from the City, who would be driving to Lake Tahoe and wanted to stop by to see her on the way. With tremendous joy, she greeted her friends Doug, Jay and Melissa. Missy's partner, Lisa was away on business for two weeks and since she was missing her lover very much, Doug and Jay decided that Missy needed some cheering, away from the City, and that Tahoe was the perfect place for this. Of course, Doug and Jay thought anyplace was a perfect place to party and needed little coaxing to do so. Upon arrival, all announced that they were famished, so Janna took them to a favorite brewpub. They had a great time getting caught up, over burgers and beers, and Janna felt more happy and relaxed than she had in weeks. Wanting to prolong the fun, Janna suggested that they check out one of the very few gay bars in town. "I have no idea what to expect because I haven't been there yet, but I've heard that they have live music on Thursday nights."

"Sure", responded Doug, "how bad can it be?"

Laughing, Janna replied, "Well, keep in mind that this isn't the City, ok? We may be the only four in there tonight!"

Jay replied sarcastically, "Jesus, this place is hopping isn't it?" Then in his very best drag queen voice, "Well, we'll have to liven the place up won't we? Come on girls!"

To which Missy remarked, "I don't know Jay Jay, we don't want to shock the hicks too much. You'd better tone it down some!"

"All right you guys, it's not that bad here. At least there are gay bars!" growled Janna.

"Yeah, two whole gay bars – how progressive!" responded Dougie.

"Did you guys come to have fun or to sit around ragging on my home town all night?"

"Fun, baby!" squealed Jay.

"Yeah, let's go guys!" suggested Missy.

"All right then, let's go. It's only a few blocks away. Why don't we walk? It's Street Market night and there's lot's to see on the way," suggested Janna.

"Lead on babe" said Jay.

As they left the brewpub, the many sights, sounds and smells of the popular outdoor farmer's market and craft fair assailed their senses. The air was full of the rich aromas arising from the many food booths and coffee vendors. Muted strains of several styles of music drifted to their ears, carried on the light breeze. Though early evening, the sun still created a brilliant glare and warmed them as they wandered slowly among the vendors.

As they made their way down the street and in and around the various street vendors, they tried to remember, though it was difficult at times, to cut down on the swish and swagger. Not an easy feat for a happily married gay couple who have had a few beers, or for two out dykes used to their own brand of swagger. Had they been back home in the Castro, they all would have proudly displayed, and even reveled in, their homosexuality. Here they had to stifle their natural tendencies, but they tried not to let it dampen their fun.

They made quite a picture, for those who cared to look. Two cute guys and two attractive women all dressed smartly. Janna wore an emerald green tank top that highlighted her sculpted, lightly muscled arms and shoulders, tucked into faded jeans. Missy was clad in a navy polo and cargo shorts, while the guys wore khaki shorts and cotton shirts. The four of them made two attractive couples; Missy was statuesque with shoulder-length brown hair and brown eyes, and Janna was shorter, with blonde hair and vibrant green eyes. Doug and Jay were a similar complement of light and dark: Doug with his blonde hair and light eyes, and Jay, African- American with gorgeous brown eyes. They were all enjoying the atmosphere of the street fair and laughed and joked happily as they walked along the avenue.

As she sat perched on her patrol bike, surveying the avenue, Officer Zamora watched the two couples with a barely noticeable, perceptive grin, paying particular attention to the short blonde. She felt grateful, and not for the first time, that this town offered a relatively safe place for her gay brothers and sisters to gather. Her partner asked, "What are you grinning at?"

"Oh nothing! Just enjoying the evening."

"Whatever!" replied John, and then added, "Come on, let's keep moving. Only another couple of hours and we can close this thing down and open the street back up to traffic. I'd like to get home to Sara at a decent time tonight."

"Sure thing", Ryan said, taking one last quick glance at the retreating friends. As she watched the small blonde woman, a curious, comfortable warmth crept into her soul.
 

    -2-

"Whoo hoo, I feel good!" trilled Jay Jay as the four friends left the bar. They had had a good time. The drinks had been good, the company even better and the young band decent, playing a cool mix of their own stuff and classic queer punk covers. When Dougie went up to the stage and told them that they had a former member of 'The Tribe' in the room, they enthusiastically encouraged Janna to join them on stage for a few numbers. Janna somewhat reluctantly picked up a spare ax and then proceeded to blow the room away. She had quickly fallen into the familiar old groove, strutting and snarling along with the singer. Though diminutive in stature (she stood five and a half feet tall in shoes), she more than held her own among the young punk musicians. Despite no longer truly looking the part of a punker (her one remaining concession to her old lifestyle being the 3 piercings in one ear), she had a stage presence and a mastery of her art that was truly impressive. The familiar old chords returned easily, her permanently calloused fingers flying over the neck of her instrument. The way that she had strutted and pogoed along with her fellow musicians gave the appearance of their having been playing together for years. She exuded a joy while playing that charged her fellow musicians and the entire room.

When she had finished with her short set, the fair-sized crowd had cheered enthusiastically and the kids in the band fell all over themselves thanking her. Later, during their break, the young band mates crowded around her, talking biz and getting autographs and production advice. Janna got the band's manager's phone number and promised to keep in touch with them. It felt good, she had to admit, being back up there. But it had felt even better to be able to quit after two songs and go back to having a good time with her friends. There was no way that she would want to do that all night any more! After she returned to her friends' table, the bar's owners, a middle-aged gay couple, approached, thanked her graciously for her contribution to the evening's entertainment and informed her that her party's tab would be complementary. They were both gregarious and fun and Janna felt she had made two new friends, promising to return to the appropriately named 'Rainbow Lounge' often.

When they left the bar, the four friends noted that the street was fairly empty of people, the market having ended an hour before sunset. Now there were only a few vendors remaining who were still packing away their wares. They were accompanied only by the police officers and firefighters who were removing barricades and preparing to return the avenue to its normal function as one of the main thoroughfares in town.

As they stood just outside the bar, a pickup truck roared by, its occupants yelling raucously. "Welcome to the valley, my friends" Janna quipped, frowning. They walked down the street, arm in arm now, joking happily and loudly. It was about a quarter mile to where they had parked at the brewpub and the night was finally, mercifully, cooling down some. Janna took a deep breath of the night-chilled air and looked up at the sky, as was her habit, enjoying the brilliant hues of the lingering sunset. It ranged from a deep blue at the zenith to an intense turquoise at the horizon. She loved the beauties of nature and exulted in them with all of her senses.

As her gaze swept downward from the sky another natural beauty caught her eye. Across the street a gorgeous lady cop was talking with a group of young men. She was tall and buff, her uniform shorts and short-sleeved shirt displaying her strong, muscled arms and legs. Wavy, dark hair curled out from under her helmet. Even from across the street Janna could see that she had piercing blue eyes. Another cop, her partner Janna supposed, stood nearby, watching the discussion with arms crossed casually in front of his chest, his mountain bike propped against his backside. The cops were focused intently on their task and
didn't see the group of friends. Janna elbowed Missy and nodded toward the cops.

"Jesus! What a babe", Missy gasped.

"Shhh!" warned Janna, "She'll hear you!"

"Like I care!" Missy replied.

"Re-mem-ber, you're mar-ried," sang Jay Jay gleefully.

"Thanks for reminding me. Now I really miss Lisa," she pouted.

"Oh, it's all right Mis, she'll be home before you know it", comforted Janna, patting her friend on the back and taking another look at the cop. Then added, "but oh my God are you right, she's gorgeous! She can arrest me any old day she wants too!"

"Too bad you're just a regular old law-abiding citizen now, huh babe?" teased Dougie, grinning.

Janna only sighed as she led her friends to their car up the street. She took a quick look back at the cop and wondered why it felt hot again all of a sudden.

~~~~~~~~~~

Ryan and John finished their conversation with the young men and started walking up the street, removing and stacking barricades as they went.

As he reached for another barrier John commented, "You know, I've said it before but I'll say it again. You have a really good way with young people. You warned those guys about the noise ordinance so calmly and professionally that they didn't even seem bothered by it. And you scored some major points with all that baseball and basketball talk."

Ryan rested her hands on the police barricade in front of her and said, "They weren't bad kids, John. The fact that they're young doesn't mean they're immune to good sense."

"True but so many young guys today think they have to be so macho. They usually resent authority figures and aren't afraid to let us know it."

Ryan dropped the barricade she held down onto the stack with the others and replied, "Well, I just try to put myself in their place and talk to them the way I like to be talked to: with respect. Everyone deserves respect. I knew they were just trying to have a good time and I just reminded them that the other people there were trying to have a good time too."

"Yeah well, it doesn't hurt that you're drop-dead gorgeous either!"

"Oh come on! I like to think that they listen because I'm a fair cop and they respect me. Also, I'm not that much older than they are, or don't appear to be anyway. I think they think of me as an equal. I like that they do. I am an equal," she said sincerely.

"That you are my friend. No question about it" smiled John.

As they neared the end of the avenue, they heard loud, angry voices coming from down a side street up ahead and to their right. They glanced seriously at each other and made their way purposefully toward the clamor. As they rounded the corner they saw the four friends that Ryan had seen earlier. A gang of four guys about a block ahead now surrounded them, near the brewpub. As they cautiously approached they heard, "…teach you a lesson you fuckin' faggots!" and saw one of the toughs advance on one of the men, raising his arm and swinging something toward the man's head. At the same time a woman screamed, "No! Please!" and the other woman in the group jumped toward the thug who was advancing on her friend.

Ryan and John shouted in unison, "Police! Drop it now!" and pulled their batons as they raced toward the fray. Before they could get there, the tough with the bat swung around and tried to hit the blonde woman challenging him. She turned slightly and brought her arms up in front of her face and the bat glanced off of her right shoulder before grazing her head. As she went down she lunged at the attacker, catching him at the knees and taking him down with her. Another of the youths, who had been about to start kicking at her male friend on the ground, now turned and tried to free his friend from the tenacious grasp of the little woman. At this point the two cops were so close that the other two toughs ran off down the street, leaving their comrades to fend for themselves.

As the cops arrived, the brunette woman and the two men were now attempting to help their friend escape the grasp of the two toughs by kicking at them. The weapon, a wooden baseball bat, lay nearby, forgotten and Ryan kicked it away, out of reach of the combatants. The cops quickly scrambled over to the thugs, and straddling them, pulled handcuffs from their pockets, subduing them in swift, sure movements. As Ryan pulled the toughs roughly up by their cuffed arms, her partner radioed for backup. Within thirty seconds there were three squad cars at the curb, having been still nearby clearing the street market. As the thugs were read their rights and loaded into the police cars, Ryan went to see to Janna as John briefed the other officers.

Janna was sitting on the ground, surrounded by her friends, when the cop came over and squatted next to her. She reached toward Janna's face, where a large gash above her right eye was dripping blood.

"Here let me have a look, OK?" she said gently, inclining her face to peer at the cut and tenderly grasping Janna's chin.

As Janna turned her face toward the cop she cradled her right arm with her left hand and said, "Sure. Thanks. It doesn't feel too bad though."

As the cop squinted at the injury in the poor street lighting she replied, "Well, I think it needs to be looked at. You may have a concussion." Her low voice was full of compassion.

Janna replied, "Nah, I don't think it's a concussion. I've had one before." When Ryan looked at her quizzically she added, "This isn't my first run-in with 'phobes, I'm afraid."

Ryan asked, brows burrowed, "Did that happen here too?"

Janna replied, "No, that was in Seattle."

Ryan looked at her seriously and said, "Still, it's better to be sure, okay?" Turning toward her partner, she said, "John, better call for paramedics." She turned back to Janna and quietly said, "There's help on the way, just stay still."

"Okay", Janna relied quietly.

While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, John took Janna's friends aside and took down the details about what had happened. Ryan kneeled by Janna's side, gently cupping her face, feeling that her presence was comforting, all the while listening to what the injured woman's friends were telling John. Even through her slight haze, Janna could feel her skin tingling where the other woman was touching her. Ryan noticed it as well, but dismissed it as merely interesting: possibly an artifact of the adrenaline rush she had just experienced, though she had never felt such a sensation before.

Doug related to John, "Just as we came up to the brewpub, these loud guys came up the sidewalk from the parking lot and when they saw us they stopped in front of us. They started taunting us, calling us 'queers, 'dykes' and 'perverts'. While this was happening one of them ran back toward the parking lot and then came back with a baseball bat and said he would teach us a lesson. That's when he went after Jay with the bat and then Janna went after him and brought him down. Then you guys showed up and we tried to get them off of Janna."

Missy added, "I think they were the same rowdy guys in the pickup who saw us coming out of the Rainbow Lounge."

Ryan absorbed this information and looking seriously back at Janna said, "That was a pretty brave thing to do."

Janna grinned sheepishly and said, "Pretty brave, Officer or pretty stupid?"

Ryan just shrugged and smiled gently at her.

Janna thought for a moment then said, "Seriously though, I didn't even really think about it." Then, feeling for some reason that she could trust this cop, she grinned sheepishly and added, "Look, I'm with two nellies and a femme. I'm about the butchest of the bunch so I guess I felt I needed to protect my friends." Ryan looked at her with understanding. She didn't think Janna appeared to be particularly butch, but she certainly understood the desire to protect one's friends. Ryan's beautiful eyes softened and she smiled as she said, her voice rich and low, "Your friends are very lucky to have you."

Janna shyly said, "Thanks… um," and squinted to see the Officer's nametag, "Officer Zamora". As she said Ryan's name she gingerly reached up and lightly touched the metal nametag on Ryan's chest. Their eyes met and locked and at Janna's touch Ryan felt a pleasant sensation, not unlike an electrical shock. It quickly spread throughout her body and she suddenly felt warm all over. Normally not one to blush easily, she was embarrassed to note that hers ears felt hot.

Clearing her throat quietly and looking away she replied, "No problem. Glad to help. OK, I think I hear the ambulance coming." After a moment she looked thoughtfully back at Janna and impulsively said, "Did you go to school here in town? You seem familiar."

Janna looked surprised and answered, "Yes. I grew up near here and went to City High, class of 80. Then to Valley College for a while."

Ryan smiled and said, "That must be it then. I was in your class."

Janna peered at Ryan, looking puzzled, and then blurted, "Sissy Zamora?"

Ryan's face lit up in a wide, beautiful smile and she said, "Yep, that was me!" Then whispered conspiratorially, "I go by Ryan now though. I hated my name when I was younger but I think it suits me now."

It certainly does...much more so than 'Sissy', Janna thought as she gazed up into the strong, beautiful planes of the cop's face. She felt as if she were staring at an ancient Greek statue. Far from cold or stony, however, this "statue" seemed to exude warmth and magnetism. Suddenly, as if she'd been shocked, Janna started and gasped, "Oh my God - I had a crush on you in Junior High!" She then added with a mock scowl, brows creased, "You, however, didn't know I was alive."

Ryan looked down at the ground between them and then shyly back up at Janna through long, black lashes and responded, "Oh, yes I did, Janna Norden."

Janna's heart suddenly leapt and she thought she might pass out, though not from her head injury. At that point the medics arrived and she and Ryan were separated. As the medics worked over Janna, Ryan backed away hesitantly, not wanting to leave her. She couldn't tear her eyes away from Janna and wondered, Why on Earth am I feeling so protective of her? And was I actually flirting with her? I don't flirt! She also found herself wanting to wring the necks of the redneck assholes that had hurt her.

She was brought out of her musing when she heard one of the paramedics say, "But you've got to go miss, for your own good."

To which she heard Janna reply, " I really don't want to go in the ambulance. I'm not seriously hurt, can't my friends drive me?"

Missy then spoke up and said, "But sweetie, we have no idea how to get to the hospital and you really need your injuries looked at."

At this point Ryan stepped back into the fray and said, "I'll drive her there in one of the patrol cars. Her friends can follow me over. John, will you get my bike back to the station?"

John, looking confused said, "Sure, no problem. I guess I'll see you later then."

"Thanks John. I can take care of the reports if you want. I'll go in tomorrow and do them."

"Sounds good bud. Have a good night." John walked away feeling somewhat confused at his partner's interesting behavior but he quickly shook it off, feeling that she surely knew what she was doing. She
always did.

As the paramedics picked up their equipment Ryan reached down to help Janna to her feet. Janna accepted the cop's outstretched hand and as she rose to her feet, she looked up into Ryan's face. Their eyes locked again, mildly cloudy green meeting serious blue. "You're very stubborn, aren't you?" spoke the perfect Cupid's bow lips below the striking blue orbs.

"Well, I'm worried about my friends. They're not from here and don't need to be spending the night with me in the emergency room. Besides, if they think I'm badly hurt they'll insist on canceling their trip and staying with me. I don't want them to do that. Dougie and Jay Jay work really hard and need a break and Missy needs the distraction."

"That's very thoughtful of you, but you do need medical attention. Careful getting into the car here." She gingerly helped Janna lower herself into the front seat of the patrol car, feeling a warm fuzzy feeling in her belly as she did so. She couldn't help but wonder again at the fact that helping this woman made her feel very good – she helped people all the time, it's her job after all – why was she getting all warm and fuzzy this time? She was afraid that she knew why but didn't want to consider that scenario, so she refocused her attention on the task at hand and, after seeing that Janna was comfortably seated, went over to instruct
Janna's friends to follow her to St. Joseph's.

The short ride to the hospital was a quiet one at first. Janna appeared to be in quite a bit of pain, so Ryan didn't prod her with questions. That could wait until later. Janna shifted slightly in the seat to try to get more comfortable and winced as pain streaked from her shoulder to her fingers. Ryan, ever observant, didn't miss it and said, "We'd better have them take a look at that arm too, huh?"

"Yep, 'fraid so. Good thing I'm not making a living playing the guitar any more. It kind of puts a crimp in my softball plans, though."

"You play ball?" asked the cop with interest.

"Used to. I checked out a few games last week and found myself wishing I were out there playing. I thought I might look into the City League and see if any teams were in need of late- season subs."

"Oh they're bound to be. Always are. What do you play fast, slow?"

"I've played both. I prefer fast."

"What level?"

"The last team I played for was B Division. But that was about 15 years ago. I'm probably pretty rusty now."

Ryan replied, eyebrows raised in approval, "If you played at that high a level, you should have no problem getting back into it. You look to be in pretty good shape," Ryan remarked as she glanced at Janna. Yep, she thought as she surreptitiously scanned the other woman's compact but lithe body, nice shape. Then shaking off the unprofessional feelings thought, Jesus what is wrong with me?

As Ryan pulled the car into the emergency room parking area, Janna said, "So do you play?"

"Yes. I'm playing on two teams right now, as a matter of fact."

"Wow, you're a serious ballplayer then, huh?"

The officer pulled the car to a stop and seeing that Janna's friends had not yet arrived behind them, turned to face her passenger. "Well, I enjoy it and it's a great way to stay in shape for the job. I play on a coed Peace Officers League team and on a Woman's Fast Pitch team."

"Sounds like fun," smiled Janna. "What position do you play?"

"I pitch, mainly, and fill in at the other positions. How about you, what do you play?"

"Infield, mostly but I can fill in in the outfield too, and I'll catch in a pinch."

Grinning, Ryan replied, "Shortstop huh?"

"Is that a smart-ass remark about my height?" responded Janna mock-indignantly with furrowed brows and cutely scrunched up nose.

Still grinning, Ryan replied, "Absolutely not!"

"Yeah right. Just wait until I'm healed...I'll show you a shortstop!"

"You promise?" Ryan asked with a raised eyebrow and a rakish grin. She regretted the remark immediately when a warm blush crept up Janna's face and was mirrored on her own face. Why the hell did I say that?

"Yeah, I promise. You think I could come check out your teams sometime?" Having recovered her composure, now Janna was grinning rakishly, despite the throbbing in her head.

"Um, sure, I guess. Yeah, any time," stammered a now flustered cop.

"Cool", replied Janna, feeling as if her belly were full of warm butterflies. The feeling then wrapped itself around her heart and she realized that she was in deep, deep trouble.

The usually reserved cop was experiencing a remarkably similar sensation and her reaction to it was equally unsettling.
 

Part 2

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