Disclaimers: The prerequisite disclaimers.

Intellectual Property: The characters are wholly my own. Any similarities drawn between them and any persons, plants, or animals, living and dead, are figments of your imagination. However, some places and products mentioned in the story do exist. No infringement is intended. (Hey, look on the bright side! Free publicity! Yeah!)

Ratings/Language/Violence: R-rated. Generally, the language and violence is mild, as is the sex. However, at risk of spoiling some surprises, the story deals with sensitive issues like overbearing parents, youth violence, rape, and murder.

Sex: Love is expressed between two consenting ladies. If that bothers you, then for the love of God (or a higher being or beings, if any), get help.

Age: If this material is illegal where you live and/or if you are underage then find something else to do.

NOTES: Mickey is NOT the main character. Be patient and you'll meet the two leading heroines in no time at all. Also, this story takes place over about the span of a decade. If you want to see sign language, go to this web site. http://www.bconnex.net/~randys/

If you have any feedback, suggestions, or comments, please let the bard know at sarkel_bard@yahoo.com You are guaranteed a reply if you so wish. Constructive criticism is accepted J

I'd also like to thank everyone who helped. Thanks to Steph, Critic, Ink, and everyone else who has contributed.

Part 1

The warmth of the coffee shop immediately engulfed Mickey Ratzlaff as he stepped inside. "Whew!" he shivered as he adjusted his blue jacket and wiped off a few flurries of snow. He studied the interior of the place momentarily; he was new to The Addict. He usually went for Holzman's Cuppa Joe but they'd closed last week and The Addict now stood in Joe's stead. Bummer. No one could make a latte better than Joe's.

This new shop, decided Mickey, wasn't his kind of place. It was too bright, too perky, the kind of place that pert, superficial chicks and lovey-dovey "we're all about togetherness and family values, with the parents and 2.3 children and the requisite dog and cat" families dug. Soft winter music floated throughout the thirty-table coffee shop. At least the place was almost full; that was a good sign, especially on a Friday afternoon. Just as long as this new shop made a decent latte, he'd live.

Hmm. He'd noticed something else. That was one thing he'd liked, respected, about Joe's. The owner, Joe Holzman, had known his stuff. After his first few experiences with theft, Joe had redesigned the store and installed a security camera so that stealing was virtually impossible.

A proud, smug grin crossed Mickey's slightly pockmarked features as he recalled Joe's puzzlement and exasperation when merchandise, albeit at a much lower rate, kept on disappearing. Actually, Joe should have been proud of himself; the owner had been one of the group's more worthy opponents. Mickey, Paul, Harry, and a couple other pals had strategized, planned, and plotted down to the last detail. It hadn't been easy, but each and every time, they'd managed to pull it off without evoking suspicion. They were smart; they liked challenges.

The Addict, Mickey saw, would be a breeze, if he chose to lift a few things. All the various merchandise were out in the clear, ripe for the taking. And even better, there was neither a security camera, nor any security alarms. Mickey smirked. He could make a few hundred bucks easy in a couple trips.

He sauntered up to the counter, dollar signs flying through his head, and got in line. A frazzled mother with a wailing brat in her arms was in front of him, giving her harried order to the middle-aged cashier behind the counter.

"Hush, hush, baby," the mother cooed impatiently, rocking the child in her arms. The baby wailed even louder. Mickey rolled his eyes.

The mother smiled apologetically at Mickey. "He's sick," she explained, thrusting a pacifier in the baby's mouth.

"Uh-uh." Like he gave a shit.

Mother and baby stepped aside as the man prepared their order. "Allison!" the cashier cried into the back area. "Customer here needs help."

Mickey exhaled. It was about time he got some service. He studied the overhead menu; maybe he'd get a brownie too. Allison appeared at the counter and spoke to the customer.

"Good afternoon. What would you like?" Mickey heard a soft, feminine voice.

"Ummm." He made a decision. "I'll have a large hazelnut café latte with a chocolate brownie." The howling baby drowned out the last part of his order. Goddamn brat! Mickey growled. If it didn't shut the fuck up-

His eyes dropped from the menu to meet the owner of the soft, feminine voice. She was un-fucking-believable, an angel on earth. His mouth gaped as his semi-paralyzed brain raced to decipher the words that came out of her sensuous, luscious mouth.

"Sir?" she repeated. "I'm sorry; I didn't get the last part. You'd like a large hazelnut café latte and what?" It hadn't just been the baby; the customer's voice was a bit raspy and slurred, like he had been drinking.

Mickey couldn't take his eyes off her. Her long strawberry blond hair cupped a sweet, open face that was completed by a lively nose and a stubborn chin. Her large green eyes betrayed a subtle air of vulnerability. His gaze roamed to her chest. She was not lacking in that department by any means, and delicious Venusian curves graced her supple body. Mickey felt himself grow hard as his throat went dry.

Suddenly, he became aware that he was openly gaping at her. That wouldn't do. "Umm… excuse me. Heh." Mickey forgot what he had wanted to order as his brain processed the sight before him. He began to pick at his nails as he tried to remember what he had come here for. "Oh! That would be a chocolate brownie." Mickey nodded, not able to remove his eyes from her chest.

Allison fidgeted uncomfortably. This guy was giving her the creeps, his shifty, beady eyes staring at her bosom for too long. He was an average looking sort but not her type. Not that guys were her type anyway. Allison sighed and wished that today was a slow day so she could get back to studying her sign language flashcards. She wanted to make a good impression tonight on Barry's daughter. In a week, she'd already mastered the alphabet and the numbers 1-20.

The other cashier finished up the previous customer's order. "Here you go, ma'am." He handed the woman her hot cup of coffee but the woman was so busy with her baby that she didn't grasp the cup firmly.

"Oh!" she cried out as the blistering liquid spilled all over the floor. Several pairs of eyes jerked exasperatedly in the direction of the sound as the baby's cries increased in pitch. The other cashier walked rapidly around the counter and began scrubbing at the mess.

Mickey saw a window of opportunity in which to impress the girl. "Ma'am," he said congenially, holding his arms out to the baby's mother. He took the boy in her arms. "Let me help." Mickey, who had never held a child in his arms before, cradled the baby to his breast, near his heart. The baby's mottled blue face instantly calmed and his fists stopped waving in the air as he listened to a calm heartbeat.

The woman flashed him a relieved look, as did the other coffee shop customers. "Excuse me!" a man behind Mickey brushed past him brusquely. "Is this self-serve or what?"

Allison gave the rude customer a professional look. "Of course not, sir. If you'll just wait a few moments. That'll be $5.23, sir," she said to Mickey, meeting his eyes a few moments longer than necessary and smiling good-naturedly at him. Mickey grinned back, turning on his full watt smile. Bait, hook, line, sinker. He held the baby in one arm as he paid the young woman. As their fingertips touched, a jolt of electricity surged through him.

"Thank you," she said softly as she repaired to fix Mickey's order.

"I'm so sorry! Thank you so much!" gushed the baby's mother as she took her son back from Mickey.

Mickey smiled gallantly. "Glad to help."

The frenzied mother rushed out of the store with her baby, declining a replacement coffee. Mickey watched her leave with an air of pretended thoughtfulness as Allison handed him his brownie and coffee.

"Come back soon," she exclaimed in her musical voice.

Mickey frowned, disappointed that the girl hadn't been impressed with his baby technique but shrugged it off. She had practically begged him to come back. "Oh yeah, I'll be back," he winked, sipping his coffee.

Allison didn't like the way he had said he'd be back but she had to be professional. The guy was still giving her the creeps. "Enjoy your coffee."

"Sure. You too." Mickey said in that strange voice of his. As he walked out of The Addict, he knew he'd be back-and not to just steal things. The latte was wonderful and the girl was even better. She liked him too; he could tell. He couldn't wait to see her again.

The cherry red Bronco whipped past the bare, forlorn trees at 80 miles per hour, music blaring at the top of its lungs. All the leaves had fallen from the trees last October, leaving bare skeletal branches to fend with the cold, blustery wind that was picking up strength, blowing crackled leaves and litter down the highway. There was nary a ray of sunlight to be seen and clouds dominated the gray sky.

The driver of the Bronco, Sam Cannizarro, drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, and swayed her head in tandem with the music. Even though she couldn't hear the song lyrics, she could feel the vibrations and kept in tune with the music just as well as a hearing person. She'd recently installed a bass tube in Dino and it was working beautifully. Dino, her beloved Bronco, was her baby boy. Sam lovingly waxed and washed him whenever she was home and every week during the summer.

Dino had been a gift to her from her father on her 15th birthday, once Sam had gotten her driver's permit. Now, Dino had been hers for two glorious years, faithfully carting her back and forth to military school and around town.

Although Sam was in her warm truck, looking outside was enough to make her shiver. She checked her blind spot as she passed the slow truck in front of her. Sam was going home for the winter holidays and was actually looking forward to spending a few weeks there.

As Sam passed yet another sluggish vehicle, she reflected on the upcoming weeks. She was in a cheerful mood; her dad had a big surprise waiting for her and she was anxious to find out all about it. Hopefully, it was something cool like a trip to Europe or a cruise. Gods knew she needed a vacation, big time. School was getting to her. She sighed and rolled the window a crack and breathed in a breeze of fresh air.

Before she knew it, she was passing through her familiar neighborhood of rich and stately homes. Despite the wealth and apparent secularity, though, the golden arches of McDonald's and commercialism were ever present.

Sam pulled into the driveway of the house that had been her home for the past 17 years, although nowadays she was only home in the summers and winters. She loved this place and could sense her mother and younger brother's presence despite the fact it had been just her and her father for the past ten years. They, or rather, he, had kept the house for the memories-pleasant or not.

The house was a two-story Colonial with a lush green front yard during the spring and summer and a pool in the backyard. From Sam's room, she could see the sun rise over the Blue Ridge Mountains but the sight from the guest room, formerly Lucas's room, was even more breathtaking. The morning mist would rise like ghosts exorcised from their graves, floating into infinity. The rising sun would streak its rainbow assortment of orange and pink hues over its majestic canvas, and during the fall season, the Blue Ridge Parkway, right in her backyard, was alive with blazing colors. It was the perfect environment for a dog.

Sam hopped out of her Bronco and greeted her overgrown puppy of a dog, Cornbread a.k.a. Corny. Corny was his usual rascally self, hopping all around like he was a wee puppy instead of the sizable 12-year-old fellow he really was.

"Corny!" Sam threw her arms around Corny's soft neck as he guffawed at her show of sentiment. "Mmm!" Sam tousled the dog's short hair, and he sighed happily as his mistress scratched him behind the ear. Sam studied her pet for a moment, frowning. "You're getting old, boy," she said with alarm. Corny's muzzle was whiter than ever before and he walked with a slight limp.

Sam stood up and wiped her hands on her pants. "C'mon." She tossed her duffel bag over her shoulder as Corny ran in front of her into the garage. Heading into the kitchen, Sam threw down her duffel bag, which landed on the floor with a thump, and called for her father. "Daddy!"

Barry was a hulking man, at six feet six inches, with slabs of concrete for hands and feet, his barrel chest covered with dark hair. As Sam soon learned, Corny wasn't the only male at the Cannizarro residence that had changed since Sam had last been home at Thanksgiving.

Barry, whose thick head of hair had once been black with distinguished gray streaks, now sported a spiky haircut and gone was the gray. A cheerful shiny hoop hung from his ear and a goatee encircled the lower portion of his face. The goatee wasn't bad but Sam preferred him as good ol' reliable dad. Sheesh, he must be going through that mid-life shit.

Sighing but unable to contain her smile, Sam approached her father. Barry pulled his girl closer to him as they hugged warmly. Father and daughter were not crazy about emotional display and a simple hug spoke of great affection.

"Like my new 'do?" Barry signed. He ran his hand through his hair like a proud gander.

"It's different. So, what's the surprise, dad?" Sam asked as she punched Barry in the arm. Sam's father was the only person that Sam used her voice with. The rest of the general population wouldn't be able to understand the deaf girl's garbled and mostly unintelligible speech. Barry could, though, because he'd grown up with his daughter and was used to her speech.

Sam was as striking as her father, if not more so. She was tall, at six feet flat with coal black hair and impossibly blue eyes, and a well defined muscle tone. Her planar face was not cute or pretty; it was exotically beautiful and sexy. Sam didn't pay much mind to her appearance but knew that many people considered her drop dead gorgeous and would sell their grandmas for a date or a roll in the hay with her.

Barry chuckled at his daughter's question. "Sam, you'll find out tonight and not a moment sooner! I have to finish up some paperwork and call a client."

Sam smiled ruefully, knowing her dad could keep a secret. After all, he did deal with lawyer-client privilege every day and must know hundreds of dirty divorce secrets. She wouldn't be finding anything out before he was ready to let the goods slip.

She walked back outside to play with her dog. Corny was as faithful as pets came, and in spite of his age, acted much like a puppy, greeting her with thumps of his tail and cheerful whuffs. The little rascal slobbered all over Sam's outstretched hand as he chomped the biscuits she offered.

He sniffed her hands for more treats but came up empty and circled Sam suspiciously, but to no avail. He returned to sit in front of her, pouting and whimpering.

Sam scolded Corny. "No whining unless you want to join Canine Watchers."

Corny wasn't pleased with the jab. He leapt onto Sam and knocked her to the ground. "Geez, Corny!" Sam chided as she wrestled with her dog. Five minutes later, Sam had pinned Corny to the grass, winning a hard fought match.

As they rolled around in the yard, a Pinto screeched to a halt in front of Sam's house, staking out a spot in the driveway with unnerving familiarity.

Sam noticed the sudden movement, stood up, and brushed her jeans off. She smelled trouble. A woman stepped out of the vehicle, casting an appraising glance in Sam's direction.

Sam straightened up and marched to the front of the house and greeted the woman with caution, nodding her head abruptly. Who the hell was she? The woman was of average height, and dyed reddish brown hair cut in the jagged popular style of middle-aged women hung limply on her shoulder. The stranger was in decent enough shape except for quite a few extra pounds. She was adorned in black leggings, a baggy over sized sweater, and high heels.

The woman squeaked at Sam. Sam shook her head to indicate she didn't understand. The woman squeaked even louder. "Hello there! I'm Susan, Beauregard's girlfriend. You must be darling Samantha. Beauregard has told me so much about you!" Susan giggled like a schoolgirl as she reached up to squeeze Sam's cheeks gently. Her spidery hands led to fingers with long, flaming red nails. "Oh! You don't have pinchable cheeks. Well, no matter, darling! Can you read my lips?" Susan grotesquely overemphasized her mouth movements.

Sam narrowed her eyes and drew back. She took an instant dislike to the intruder. Sam could read lips pretty well, and fortunately-or perhaps unfortunately-this Susan had clear, easy-to-read lips. Sam was able to grasp the gist of her sentences. Had the woman actually called her… darling Samantha?

I don't think so. No one calls me darling and no one except dad touches me without my express written consent. Sam extracted a notepad she usually kept in her pocket and wrote, "Lady, I have pinchable cheeks but they're not on my face," making her point succinctly.

At least her dad hadn't mentioned Susan so whatever they had going must not be serious. Sam figured she could put up with the woman for a few days; Susan wasn't going to last long if her dad hadn't mentioned her by now. Sam plastered a fake smile on her face and nodded.

Susan looked aghast about Sam's lowbrow comment but finally decided to ignore it as she smoothed an invisible crease on her tacky shirt. She took the notepad and scribbled some chicken marks. "Why don't we go in and find Beauregard, huh?" Susan chirped, batting her eyes at Sam. "Your father is just a darling! Like you!"

Susan nodded at Sam, wrinkling her nose discreetly as Beauregard's daughter walked beside her. The teenager was filthy from her romp with the little mongrel and had quite a few grass stains on her jeans. Susan wondered if young Samantha would take some advice on ladylike behavior. It wouldn't hurt to offer.

She tapped her taller companion on the shoulder and Sam shuddered at the touch.

"Samantha," began Susan. Sam's anger flared. No one called her Samantha. Ugh!

"Sam," she interrupted. She could pronounce her name clearly; that was important for emergency purposes.

Susan squealed. "You can talk!" She went on, shooting words out of her mouth like a machine gun.

"Samantha, has anyone told you it's unladylike and inappropriate for a 17-year-old girl to go around rolling in the mud? Goodness. Someone might see you. If you want to snatch yourself a good husband you need to keep an eye out for that."

Sam's jaw dropped as this woman, this bitch, dared boss her around. Unladylike?!? Before Sam could respond, Susan had entered the house and Barry had scooped her up in his big, meaty arms, squeezing her and smiling like an idiot. Sam knew, from that one look, that her dad had been taken. She looked for an engagement ring, didn't notice one, and figured as long as dad didn't marry Susan, she was safe. Sighing, Sam crossed her arms in a hostile manner and awaited the formal introductions.

Barry began to sign in his awkward, rusty fashion. Since Sam wasn't home often, his signing skills had deteriorated noticeably. "Susan, this is my daughter Sam. Sam, this is Susan, my girlfriend. Sam, we're all going to dinner at The Castaway in a few minutes." Barry grinned as if he'd shot a ten-point buck. Sam smiled and offered her hand to Susan but Susan scrunched her nose and declined the offer.

Sam shrugged and headed to her room. "Gonna wash up," she gestured to her father.

Sam changed out of her clothes and took a quick shower, changing into a pair of comfortable jeans and a long-sleeved blue v-neck light sweater. The clothes were form fitting and causally boasted her good qualities-which were just about all of her physical assets. Her hair was left down at its normal shoulder-length length and swung loose. Sam checked herself in the mirror and admitted she looked sharp this particular evening. For a change, it was nice not having to wear an uniform. The dark-haired girl trotted downstairs and met her dad and Susan and off they went to The Castaway. As they were seated in the restaurant, Sam discovered that Susan's kids would be meeting them.

Great. Meeting the woman's family. You'd think they were getting married. Gag.

"Allison and Allen will be meeting with us shortly. Allison is 16 and Allen is 3. Allison and her new boyfriend Joshua!!! are picking up Allen from a friend's and meeting us here. They're really nice kids and we'll get along great! Unfortunately Joshua won't be joining us tonight; he has a game. He plays basketball and he's cute." Susan slowly pronounced each word as she delicately sipped the water in front of her.

Sam ignored Susan and watched her father drink his water. She raised an eyebrow, wondering if yet again, Barry was watching his cholesterol. She wouldn't be surprised to find out that he had slipped and determined to ask her father later in private if he was all right, health wise.

As Susan ordered water, Barry took his daughter aside for a minute. "One thing, Sam. The kids' father died a few years ago, right after Allen was born so that's a, um, sensitive topic." Barry pointed out to Sam not wanting any awkward moments later on.

After Sam had declined a water, she felt someone slide in beside her and turned to acknowledge said person. Probably one of the woman's brats. Sam blinked as she looked into the greenest eyes she had ever seen and a damn cute face. She stared into those eyes for what seemed like an eternity before regaining her composure. Sam was not alone, for Allison was staring back. She had never imagined her mother's boyfriend's daughter to be this beautiful-strike that, gorgeous. Now this was her type. Tall, dark, beautiful, and most decidedly female. After a moment of silence, Susan cleared her throat and Allison turned to face her mother.

"Do you already know each other?" asked Susan, curious about the exchange of looks between the two girls.

Allison blushed. "No." She recovered and grinned ear to ear. "Hi all!" she addressed the table.

She turned to Sam and smiled at the magnificent girl sitting next to her. "Hey, I'm Allison. Nice to meet you, Samantha," signed Allison. She was obviously a novice, a new signer. She had practiced that line for hours at work earlier and hoped she'd done it right.

Allison giggled as she handed a pre-written note to Sam. It said, in bubbly handwriting: "Your dad's told us so much about you. He's really proud of you. I hope to get to know you better and learn sign language better. Your dad picked a great restaurant. This restaurant is great isn't it? I just love the atmosphere in here. How long are you gonna be home for the holidays? I love the holidays. It's so festive and gosh, I better stop writing and let you reply! Sorry. Haha." Allison had ended the paragraph with a smiley face.

Sam smiled at Allison as she stared at the note. She was experiencing conflicted feelings. She was annoyed at the new girlfriend and brats thing but the kid, however perky and talkative, had actually taken the time and trouble to learn a few lines in sign language and to write a note. Now, how should she reply?

Sam felt awkward as she pondered her response. Was she supposed to get on her knees and thank Allison profusely for learning sign language? If she didn't, she would be viewed as rude. In her experience, hearing people expected her and other deaf people to automatically start a long conversation just because they knew some abc's and rudimentary signs. Sam wasn't great at socializing and this was no exception. How does one make small talk?

Sam looked up at Allison weakly and signed thank you. What are Allison's true motivations for learning sign language? Is she trying to get on the ins with dad or does she feel sorry for me? She's probably just a typical fem girl that perceives me as a charity case.

Allison gasped at the sign. Sam had just blown her a kiss! She threw her mother a sideways glance but both Barry and Susan were acting nonchalant as if they didn't have a care in the world. She looked back at Sam who was nervously glancing at her dad wishing he would bail her out. Noticing Sam's unease, Allison's eyebrows shot up. The blonde dove into her purse and extracted a pen.

"Pen." She offered the pen and Sam took it, wondering what the hell she was to do now.

Sam jotted down a short note. "Call me Sam. Nice to meet u." She slid the piece of paper to Allison, feeling like an idiot freak show, the little deaf girl. Allison grabbed the paper and pen and began a lengthy reply.

As she wrote, she spoke to her brother, who was sitting across from her and Sam. "Allen, say hi to Sam. Show her what you've learned."

Allen nodded and signed a greeting to Sam. "Hi, my name Allen." The kid was pretty smooth-better than Allison. Kids always picked things up better than adults. Sam smiled uneasily but was saved by the waiter.

Allison stopped writing her note just as the waiter arrived to take the drink and dinner orders from the group. Sam was relieved that Allison had stopped. Apparently, she talked a mile a minute and was one of those teenage girls Sam despised so much, obsessed with boys and hair and clothes. Ugh. Allison was dressed in a flower print skirt and a sweater and Allen was wearing a pair of khakis and a polo shirt.

Both of them looked mighty alike, strawberry-blonde with green eyes and pert noses, stubborn chins, and sparkling smiles. Allison wasn't that much shorter than Sam, maybe around five foot seven or so.

Sam hated socializing and hated being in public because she always felt self-conscious about being deaf and using sign language. Sometimes people stared or made mocking expressions and there was nothing she could do without being rude or nasty. Sam figured she could put up with the brats for one night for her dad's sake then hide out for winter break. At least Allen seemed like a cute little well-behaved kid and from what Barry had told Sam about the death of Allison and Allen's father, right after Allen's birth, Sam could sympathize with Allen not growing up with a parent.

The waiter arrived to her place after taking her dad's order. Sam pointed to the menu at each item. Coke, a steak, the works. The waiter repeated Sam's order out loud in confirmation. "Coke, 26 ounce Porterhouse with the works?" Sam nodded at the waiter as Allison sighed. She had been wondering how Sam would order her food and whether or not she should offer her help.

Allison heard Susan gasp at Sam's order and mentally chuckled at the woman's shock. Her mother thought it was unladylike to eat so much. Allison resumed her note and added that she had ordered a vegetable platter. As soon she finished her note she gave it back to Sam who read it quickly.

"This is a steak place for Gods' sake," she thought when she read the note. "A vegetable platter?" Sam did not feel like answering the dozen questions posed by Allison in the note so she just nodded and folded the paper. Allison blinked in disappointment as Sam simply ignored her note. Maybe she had asked too many questions.

Sam tuned out as the perky blonde talked a mile a minute, mostly addressing Barry and Susan. "It was so nice of Joshua to drop us off. He would have come in and say hello but he was already late. Did you know that he met President Clinton last year? It's an interesting story. Joshua was not expecting to meet him at all but…" Sam's thoughts drifted off into outer space until she saw her dad wave his hand for her attention. Finally, the teeny-bopper shut up.

"I have an announcement to make," grinned Barry as he placed his large, meaty hand on Susan's hand. Barry spoke normally but clearly so that Sam could follow. "Susan and I have been dating for a few weeks and we're very much in love. I've asked her to be my wife." Susan nodded and wiped a tear from her eye. Barry continued: "Susan has accepted my proposal and we've decided to marry in March. I know it's only been a few weeks but I feel as if we've known each other forever. Surprise!" Barry signed the last word for dramatic effect. He was beaming and Susan was crying with joy. Sam couldn't think of anything else at the moment; she was in shock. Her dad, getting married? After all those years? To that woman? With those brats? Great. Just great.

Allison popped out of her seat and gave Barry and Susan a bear hug and Sam read Allison's lips as the perky girl smothered the couple. "Congratulations! This is fabulous. I'm so happy for you!" Allison sat back down and faced Sam. "Aren't you excited? This is great. We're going to be sisters!" Allison hugged Sam as she bounced slightly in her seat. Allen joined in the hug and Sam found herself buried beneath two bubbling blondes.

The dark-haired girl smiled with an enthusiasm she didn't feel as Susan exhibited the boulder sized diamond ring on her finger. How did I miss THAT? Sam was not ready to share her daddy with anyone else, much less those brats and their mother. She let out a big breath and smiled weakly.

"Congrats," she signed with an expression that clearly indicated that she thought otherwise. She could barely muster the word and suddenly felt sick to her stomach. Allison and Allen were beaming with joy and Sam scowled as she stared into her soda, suddenly unable to think coherently. She'd lost her appetite and couldn't wait to go home.

Her gut tightened as she watched Susan speak. It couldn't be, could it? She must have misread Susan's lips. She slowly glanced at Allison who had jumped up and shouted with glee.

"Oh I would love to be your bridesmaid! Ohhh! It'll be gorgeous. Thank you, momma!" cried Allison as she hugged Susan and Barry once again. Sam had indeed read Susan's lips correctly. She had been invited to be a bridesmaid in their wedding.

Sam managed to choke out a sentence. "Honored." She cringed as she signed to her father, knowing it wasn't an honor. It was a hassle. A hassle she could do without. Barry smiled at Sam, knowing she wasn't a fan of dresses and such and glad she was pleased about the engagement. Allison sat back down in her seat and turned to Barry.

"Barry. Please sign for me." Allison turned to Sam remembering that the Internet tips page had said to face the deaf person whenever using an interpreter. "Oh Sam. Aren't you excited? We can go shopping together for the dresses! The wedding shower! We can plan that too! Ohhhh!" Allison had grabbed Sam's hand in excitement and the taller girl disengaged her hand smiling thinly at Allison. The bimbo was getting on her last nerve and had better watch out. Nobody touched her without invitation and that included any, unfortunately, future stepsiblings. Sam turned to her father for a summation of whatever the brat had said.

The group finished their meal as Allison continued to chatter a mile a minute. Finally, Barry paid the bill and they were on their way out. Sam was relieved. She couldn't wait to go home but they were sidetracked and ended up at Susan's place.

Susan's house was, in actuality, a three-bedroom apartment in the poorer part of town. The furniture was worn and torn, the curtains old and tattered, and an ancient television from pre-remote control days sat in the corner on worn shagged carpeting.

"Why don't you show Samantha around, give her the grand tour? Maybe she'll want to paint her room pink or robin's egg blue. Take Allen with you too," suggested Susan.

Allison reluctantly took Sam's hand and pulled her towards a door. The blonde cringed inwardly. What must Sam think of her apartment after living in such a fine house? She'd never been to Barry's house before, but from her mother's description, Casa de Cannizarro sounded like a mansion.

Allison's train of thought transferred to other matters as she remembered that she was still holding Sam's hand. The hand felt warm and comforting.

Sam marveled at how soft and small Allison's hand was and how it fit in hers perfectly. She suddenly let go of the hand nonchalantly; she didn't want to give the kid any wrong ideas. Allison felt the absence and figured she had let her hand linger too long. She'd better be careful from now on.

Sam plastered a fake smile on her face and nodded as she took a few minutes to look around. Allen's room was tiny and had boring landscapes on the wall and no toys. Poor kid. Allen wandered in there and sat down, playing with his building blocks.

She went into Allison's room and Allison patted the bed, beckoning her to sit down. Sam sat down on the edge of the bed and surveyed the room. It seeped of girl. It was adorned with pink walls, a canopy on the bed, pictures of horses on the wall, a dozen porcelain dolls, stuffed animals, pictures of friends everywhere, with absolutely no fun stuff like video games or sporting equipment. Hell, it had posters of a dozen teeny-bopper musical groups and a solitary poster stood out like a sore thumb. It was a pink poster of Barbie and Ken. Eek. Sam would drop dead before she had such a hideous room. Well, I'm exaggerating, there's no poster of Barbie and Ken but there might as well be. Everything else is…simply eek.

Allison noticed Sam's appraising gaze around her room and her face colored.

The blonde was embarrassed. No way in heck would she decorate her room like this; it was too girly and too childish for her taste and imagine what Sam must think! Her mother had decorated the room for her and she had no say whatsoever in what to put up. She hoped the situation would be better when she moved in Casa de Cannizarro. Time to change the subject

A sign language book lay on the bed and Allison grinned. She decided to try out another phrase in sign language. The green-eyed girl waved at Sam and signed, "That my sign language book." Allison smiled at Sam as the deaf girl nodded. Duh. Sam wrote a quick note, laughing.

The blonde laughed out loud as she read the message: "No kidding. I thought it was your physics textbook." Sam had to admit Allison hadn't done too badly and was making a genuine effort. Either that or she really felt sorry for her. It was probably the latter. Sam looked down on her lap and realized that a photo album had been plopped in her lap. The younger girl grabbed a piece of paper and pen and wrote a note.

"I know it looks like a little girl's room but mom decorated it and I am her little girl after all, aren't I? You're the first person to see this room other than my mom and Allen." Sam had to suppress the need to gag and simply nodded. She motioned for the pen.

"You can talk to me. I can read lips ok. Don't have to write down everything!" Sam thrust the paper at the brat and shrugged.

Allison opened the album and pointed to the first picture. "This is my dad, Phillip. He's a handsome devil isn't he? Everyone says I've got his eyes and dimples," squealed the younger girl as she looked Sam directly in the eye to ensure that the deaf girl had understood every word.

Sam took a closer look at the picture. Gag time part two. Allison assumed that Sam had understood and proceeded. "He died a few years ago and we moved here from Arkansas. This is our old house in Arkansas. See? We moved here because my Aunt Jackie lives here." Allison pointed to the next picture.

The taller girl was not understanding half of what Allison was saying but simply nodded and humored her. She wanted this done and over with so she went ahead and flipped a few pages. Allison stayed Sam's hand and returned to the second page. "Wait Samantha. You didn't get to see the picture of my old dog and friends. Or when Allen was a baby. Or of my third grade teacher."

Sam slanted her eyes at Allison. She took back the paper and pen and wrote down: "Rules: Don't touch. Don't call me Samantha. Don't talk or boss. I don't need to know everything A to Z about you. Your mom is marrying my dad, not me. Now I'll find a picture I actually care about then you can tell me all about it." Sam tossed the note at Allison and slammed the album shut, noting that Allison was properly chastised. As Sam rose, the blonde grabbed Sam's elbow.

Allison signed, "Sorry, Sam." She resumed speaking. "You didn't even look to see if there were any pictures you like. Hey, look, I just called you Sam! This is so cool. I understand it must be difficult for you, having Barry to yourself all those years then suddenly having to share him with strangers but we won't be strangers for long will we? I read this book that talks about stepfamilies and…" Allison stopped when she noticed that Sam was mock snoring.

"Finally. Don't talk so damn much. Will ya shut up if I find a picture?" Sam wrote on the notepad.

Allison sighed. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to talk too much. Sometimes that happens when I'm nervous or excited. And of course I'm both nervous and excited because, well, you know we're meeting and…Barry is so nice. He's good with Allen and…"

Sam flipped through the pages and found a picture of a baby Allison in the bathtub with bubbles on her nose and pointed at it. The neighboring picture was of Allison as a toddler, buck naked with her bum sticking out in the air. The little girl appeared to be pointing to her bum and shouting something.

Sam thoroughly enjoyed all the 12 shades of red Allison's face turned.

Allison stammered more to herself than to Sam. "I thought I had taken that out. Uhh… that's obviously a baby picture of me and uhh… I was taking a bath yeah…"

Sam grinned at the blushing girl and raised a dark eyebrow. She pointed to the next picture. The taller girl prodded for an answer as Allison's cheeks turned even redder. Sam scrawled on the notepad. "Can you turn any redder? Any more of those I should know about?" Allison quickly shook her head and grabbed the sign language book.

"Teach me some signs, please?" Allison scribbled on the notepad, furiously hoping that Sam would forget about the pictures soon. The grinning girl nodded and pointed to the picture of Allison in the bathtub. "Funny. Baby naked," Sam mouthed as she signed each word to Allison. The younger girl's face accomplished a rare feat; it turned even redder as it paled.

The blonde's jaw worked its way up and down as she sought a response. She gathered a deep breath and signed, "You show me your baby pictures." Actually she didn't sign, she gesticulated, but Sam understood her anyway. The blue-eyed girl shook her head.

"No way!" mouthed Sam. "I'm not stupid!" Allison understood the no way but not the second sentence and sighed.

"Did I sign that right?" asked Allison and Sam shook her head.

"You did ok at gesticulating but they were not the actual signs," Sam wrote. She showed Allison the right signs and molded Allison's hands into the correct handshapes. The green-eyed girl grinned excitedly as she learned new signs. She loved the feel of Sam's hands guiding hers. The older girl was so gentle and yet so commanding.

Sam was enjoying the sign language lesson also for it gave her an opportunity to sneak in a few guilty pleasures. But she didn't like the idea of Allison pitying her so she asked bluntly in sign language, "Why do you want to learn sign language? Do you feel sorry for me?"

Allison began to speak again, slowly, so that Sam could read her lips, with a sign thrown in here and there. "Of course I don't feel sorry for you. I wanted to learn because, hey, we're going to be sisters! I do feel bad that you can't hear music or talk." Sam nodded slowly at Allison's answer. She didn't feel like getting into a discussion at the moment but later she was going to have to straighten Allison out.

Allison prattled on for a while about all of her friends, pets, relatives, and such. Sam rolled her eyes and referred to the piece of paper on which she had written the rules earlier. She pointed to the don't talk so much rule. She then pointed to the last part in which she stated she didn't have to know everything, A to Z, about Allison.

Allison looked crestfallen and Sam was afraid the girl was going cry, of all things. Sam nodded and scribbled. "Tell me about each picture but each sentence has to be three words or less."

Allison's face brightened and she giggled. Sam wondered what she'd gotten herself in but at least Allison was easy to please. The older girl just had to toss her a scrap now and then. As the blonde continued her chatter, Sam grew increasingly frustrated. She didn't even know there was a story behind the album as well and didn't want to hear it either.

She finally clamped her hand down on Allison's mouth and put a finger on her own mouth in a shushing motion. Allison didn't like this tactic and decided on revenge. She tried to tickle her companion but…Sam wasn't ticklish. Instead Allison was faced with narrowed slits of blue as Sam growled, annoyed. The dark-haired girl pointed to the "Don't touch me" clause on the notepad. Allison nodded but the hand still didn't leave her face. Allison grabbed the wrist and tried to wrest it away.

Sam stood up, pulling Allison up with her. She spun the younger girl around so that the smaller girl was ensconced in her arms, her hand still firmly clamped over Allison's mouth. The blonde smelled like soap, apples, and coffee, an odd combination but a nice one nevertheless. She momentarily inhaled Allison's scent as the shorter girl squirmed, trying to escape, but to no avail. She managed to firmly grasp Allison without hurting her. Allison figured two could play this game.

She wrapped her leg around Sam's and tried to trip her to the floor but wasn't successful. Sam was onto every move and twisted Allison's arm until the younger girl was on the floor on her back. Sam started to tickle Allison unmercifully with her free hand.

Sam kneeled onto the floor straddling Allison's hips, refusing to show any leniency. Allison withered and wiggled trying to get out of the dark-haired girl's iron torture. Sam chuckled as the girl under her flopped on the floor beneath her like a fish out of water. Allison was laughing and half-heartedly struggling. This was better than Sam making fun of her baby pictures although she was, yet again, the victim.

Sam's face was only inches away from hers and Allison realized the quality of Sam's eyes. Sam was gorgeous and would make some guy happy one day. That is, if he didn't talk too much. On the other hand, it would be more fun to talk 'too much' and get 'tortured.'

Sam started laughing at Allison's predicament and decided to make it even more tortuous. She slipped her hands up Allison's shirt and started to tickle her with renewed energy. "Oh!" Allison yelped, responding to the new sensations. She liked the feel of Sam's warm fingers against her skin and cried out in pleasure. "Oh Sam!" Allison tried to make herself a smaller target but Sam held her smaller companion firmly in place.

She looked down at Allison and pouted. She signed to her willing victim. "Funny." Sam attacked Allison again and just as the blonde was about to lose her self-control, her mother walked in.

Continued in Part 2.