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.

Many people have asked me about my posting policy, so here's a rundown. I have a personal policy to post at least once a week, but if I am ahead of schedule or have extra time, I'll post more than once.

A Note: In the story, when Sam (or someone who is signing) murmurs, mumbles or whatever, they are not speaking. The 'screams' 'whispers' and so forth are merely the sign language equivalent.

Author's Note: There is an untitled poem in this part. I do not know who wrote it, but if you can help, please e-mail me so I can give the poet proper credit.

Author's Note: I'd like to thank the wonderful people at Xenaverso for honoring AITF with the Olé award. Check the Xenaverso out at http://www.atenea.easynet.co.uk/xenaverso/fanfic/fanfic_ole.htm

Part 12

"Michael." The old woman's faded brown eyes lit up as her son entered the sterile room that had been her home for the past two years. The gloomy beige walls, trimmed with dull wallpaper bearing faint outlines of wildflowers, irritated more than they soothed. Ms. Eugenie Ratzlaff, never married but twice pregnant, resided in a nursing home on the outskirts of town. She had been a vibrant woman, popular with the gentlemen in her heyday, but in recent years her mental health and physical health had taken its toll. Shriveled and withered, she seemed perpetually depressed except in the mornings when her good son, Michael, visited.

He was a faithful visitor, coming to see her daily in the mornings at 8 o'clock sharp with a small gift. Some wildflowers, candy, balloons, books from the library, yarn for her knitting, warm socks. Those gestures warmed her heart, for her Michael lived in a trailer on the wrong side of the tracks. His deadbeat older half-brother drifted in and out of jobs, never staying around long enough to collect more than one or two paychecks. Andrew was a horrible boy, always getting into trouble and never visiting his own mother. Michael was so unlike his older brother and she was lucky to have a sweetheart like him or she'd died long time ago due to depression.

Mickey sat down at his mother's side and gently removed the oxygen mask that covered her beautiful face. He slipped his large hand into her small, fragile hand and squeezed it gently. Others thought his mother was ugly, dried up, and old. But he knew different. To him, those brown eyes were as bright and loving as ever, the laugh lines made her warm and human, and her hair still had its lustrous shine. "Mama. You're looking as lovely as ever. See what I brought you today?" He proffered a stationery set, knowing that his mama had wanted to write letters to some people. Mickey didn't have the heart to tell her that the people she wanted to write to were either dead or didn't give a shit about her.

Ms. Ratzlaff smiled. The stationery set was a lovely blue, with a hummingbird theme. Her Michael remembered that she loved her hummingbirds. "Oh, thank you Michael. Put it on the desk. I'll use it when I've the strength, Lord willing. Put up the bed will you?"

Mickey nodded as he pressed the button, raising the bed so his mother could be in a semi-sitting posture. He hated to see his mother in this position but he'd gotten used to it. At first, he had refused to visit her in the home but over time he'd because he loved her. "Mama. Is there anything you want me to bring over tomorrow? It's a nice day out. Maybe they will let me take you out for a picnic this week. How'd you like that, mama?"

The older woman nodded weakly as she sipped from the perpetual glass of water she had on her bedside table. "I'd love that. How is that deadbeat? Why does he not visit his own mama?" She wheezed in anguish as Mickey held up the glass of water to her dry, brittle lips.

"Drink up mama." He wiped the water from her chin and set the glass on the nightstand. "Oh mama. Don't worry about Andrew. Soon, we'll start over. Have our own lives. I'll take care of you." He nodded seriously as his mother's brow furrowed.

"Michael, whatever do you mean?" She squeezed his hand and shook it. "Have you met someone?"

"Oh mama! I've met this lovely girl. She's beautiful, smart, sweet. Her name's Allison. I wasn't sure until recently that she liked me. We're destined to be together and guess what? You're a grandmother! Imagine that! We'll all move to Florida. I have a job lined up and Allison can take care of you and our son while I work. We'll be a family again, mama. Wouldn't you like that?" He searched his mother's eyes for approval as she coughed.

"Oh sweetie. If anybody's going to be a good daddy and husband, it's you, Michael. I'm so happy you told me. When can I meet the angel who's snatched you up? She's a lucky one." Eugenie grinned weakly as the heart monitor beeped.

Michael smiled at the opportunity to show off his family. He whipped out his well-worn wallet and gently removed a picture from the plastic window. "Here you go, mama. Allison and Allen." He held up the picture for her inspection. His pixie was holding their newborn son in her arms.

Eugenie surveyed the photo critically, one eyebrow turned down as she held the picture at varying distances. "What a sweetheart. The girl's got a face like an angel. The boy is darling. Are you sure you're the father?" Ms. Ratzlaff loved her boy and didn't want him hoodwinked by a woman. The blond, green-eyed baby in the photo looked nothing at all like her handsome Michael.

"Oh mama. He's mine. I know it. She's a good mother and we love each other. Do you approve?" He chewed his lips, awaiting her nod. His mama was the only one that could veto destiny.

"Of course I do! If she makes you happy and you're sure the boy's yours. When will I meet them?" Eugenie wheezed once again and thought about her newfound grandson. He was another reason for her to keep on living. The Lord wasn't going to call her home anytime soon. "Michael. How is your schoolwork going?"

"Mama. It's summer. No school, remember? I'm working at the gas station. Look, I gotta go but I promise I'll bring them by for a visit soon. What would you like tomorrow?"

"Ok. Go." She turned her head to the wall, staring at a non-existent spot.

Mickey sighed and let go of his mother's hand. He replaced the oxygen mask and departed silently. Some days, she didn't fare well after he left, throwing temper tantrums and refusing to eat. He hoped that this wasn't one of those days.

About an hour later, holding a steaming cup of coffee from the Addict, Mickey entered the Cannizarro mansion from the rear door and sat down on the plush green sofa. He was on vacation this week and no better place to do it than the Cannizarro home. It was comfortable, large, and had plenty of goodies. Most importantly, he could become closer to his pixie. He had to implement his plan and soon. Allison needed to be rescued and he couldn't wait too long to do it or she'd forever be in the dyke bitch's trap.

He grabbed a coaster from the pile on one of the end tables and carefully placed his coffee on it. The intruder wanted to leave no signs of his stay at the Cannizarro house. He picked his body up off the sofa and dug around in his pocket for the to-do list. His son had told him that the family would be gone for a week and Mickey found this to be the perfect opportunity to do some recon work.

His fingers finally located the worn, folded piece of paper and he pulled it out and unfolded it. He stared at it and walked into the kitchen. Mickey rummaged around in the kitchen looking for a pen and finally found one in a small drawer. He took another look at the list.

Allison's work schedule.

Keys to Dino.

Sam's schedule?

Barry and Susan's schedule?

Money?

Belongings?

He had found the calendar the previous day and figured that the elder couple was out of town for a long weekend soon after they returned from vacation. He'd also carefully copied the pixie's work schedule. His plan was falling in very nicely. Mickey shook his head. The planning could wait. Now it was time for fun stuff. He slipped upstairs into his angel's bedroom and located the journal, skipping to his favorite page with his favorite line. He knew what her words really meant. "Doesn't he understand I'm not interested?" She was a smart one, indeed. He smiled as he hugged the journal close to his chest. He fingered the pages over until he arrived to the most recent entry and decided to read it. He couldn't wait any longer to see what special message she had to tell him. The suspense was killing him.

His beady eyes roamed across the page and rage rose in his chest as he read the feminine cursive. FUCKING DYKE BITCH! His hands trembled and threatened to crumple the pages of the journal. Tears swelled as he read the passage. Setting my head on Sam's lap was a slice of heaven. I didn't want to move at all, but Allen interrupted.

Mickey grinned. Good going, Allen. Stopping your mother from making a mistake. I'll reward you for that, son. What was happening to his pixie? The fucking bitch was brainwashing his blonde dessert into some…despicable thing. By God, he was going to stop the dyke from hurting his Allison no matter what it took!

He slammed shut the journal and stuffed it back in its hiding place and rocked himself for a few minutes, trying to calm down. He reached for one of Allison's pink pillows and hugged it tightly to his chest, inhaling deeply her wonderful scent and allowing her aura to envelop him. After Mickey had calmed, he stood and looked around, deciding he was safe enough. After all, he had to become one with her and that meant knowing what it was like to be her. He slipped out of his clothes and neatly folded them into a pile.

He opened her chest of drawers and extracted a pair of panties and a bra. His fingers trembled with excitement as he slipped his legs into the holes and tugged them up to his waist. His erection pounded harder as it strained against the sweet material that had once held his honey mound. He refused to satisfy his throbbing until he had placed the bra on and fumbled with the straps. How could women put up with this day in and day out? Finally his large fingers managed to hook together the bra straps and he studied himself in the mirror. My, he was a handsome lad. He had thought that only Allison could do those panties justice but he came in a close second. He lay on the bed and cuddled with the pillows, whispering. "Oh Allison. Baby…" He pretended that she was indeed there and holding him, melding them into a single being.

Sam's blue eyes narrowed ferociously into tigress slits as she studied the ten gleaming white pins that literally shook in fear down the lane. The raven-haired beauty intended to win today, and to win big.

The green-eyed girl fidgeted in the hard, cold chair as Sam flexed her graceful muscles. Her stepsister exuded an aura of pure passion and competitiveness. She walked on air, releasing the ball with the grace and speed of a gazelle, yet with the strength and ferocity of the most barbarous Roman warrior.

The ball screamed down the lane. With an anguished wail, the ten pins confronted each other in mid-air, clashing with the thunder and fury of ten atomic bombs. The victims bellowed as they collapsed on the hard wooden floor and splattered over the battlefield.

Allen watched wide-eyed as Sam surveyed the casualties with a look of satisfaction. With a smirk clearly displayed across her exotic features, she strutted into the scoring area. She plopped carelessly onto a chair next to her blonde stepsister and commented with disinterest, "I need a better ball."

She stretched her legs out and rested her feet upon the scoring computer and the green-eyed girl's eyes traveled the length of the beautifully sunburned and muscular thighs, stopping where the shorts started. Goodness, how she wanted to see more...revealing items. She felt herself warming up and her ears burned upon her realization of her arousal. She sighed and glanced away, acting nonchalant. "Oh? Your skills aren't good enough without a good ball to fling at those poor victims of yours?" she smirked back at the brunette.

Sam shrugged casually and winked at her stepsister. "Gotta balance you out."

"Hey!" the blonde exclaimed. "Are you implying something?"

"Naw." Sam shook her head impishly. "Course not."

"Sure, sure." The blonde stood gingerly, her clothes digging into her flaming sunburned skin. She slid her fingers through the holes in the ball and took her place in front of the warning line. Allison studied the arrows and settled on a point between the top arrow and the one to its right. She intended to do at least a decent job.

The brunette took advantage of the preoccupied Allison to peruse her rather shapely and fine body. Her friend's hips curved in just the right spots, and even the harsh fluorescent lights couldn't diminish the brilliant color of her light strawberry blond hair. Sam sighed as she imagined running her fingers through her stepsister's lovely tresses.

Allison turned to her bowling partners with a frown on her normally smiling features. The sudden movement jerked Sam out of her thoughts and she glanced over to the pins. All ten stood straight and proud, having recovered admirably from their previous attack.

"Gutter ball! Gutter ball! Gutter ball!" Allen crowed as his sister pouted.

Allison retrieved her ball from the conveyor belt. "Wish me luck," she jested. "Maybe that way I can knock at least one pin down."

Sam grinned and jumped out of her seat. "I have just the trick." She removed the ball from the shorter girl's grasp and replaced it on the conveyor belt. Quickly, the brunette scanned the ball racks and selected a ball just like Allison's. "This is a magic ball," she said, winking at her stepsister.

"Serious?" Allen was impressed. "What can it do? How do you know, Sammy?"

"That's my secret," the brunette explained. She handed the ball to her stepsister. "May the magic be with you."

Allison giggled at the subtle reference and glanced at her brother. He was standing near the conveyor belt anxiously, waiting to see what kind of magic the ball possessed.

"Go on." Sam poked Allison forth.

The blonde swallowed as she tried for a spare but failed miserably. She turned to her stepsister accusingly. "Sam! You said this was a magic ball!"

Allen nodded in disappointment as he looked at Sammy.

Sam chuckled. "It's a magic ball… for me. That way Al's gonna lose."

Allison threw a warning look in Sam's direction, her eyes flashing. "That's bad sportsmanship." She didn't want to teach Allen about making people lose on purpose.

The brunette patted the green-eyed girl on the shoulder and squeezed her waist. "You're cute when you're mad."

Allison pretended to ignore the compliment and beckoned her brother over. "Your turn."

The ball was indeed magic, as Allison lost the match to both her brother and her stepsister. The trio was exhausted after the game. They had spent the day at the amusement park, then the early evening at a museum. Then they'd eaten dinner at a pizza place and bowled a game.

"Ow!" Allison grimaced as her skin crackled. "Oww! Let's bowl again when I'm not all red."

Sam smiled. "Add some butter and you're ready for a lobster restaurant." The taller girl was just as red and in serious pain, but was concealing her distress. She hadn't felt like hassling with Susan about lying in the sun, but in retrospect her passiveness had been a dumb move.

The brunette grinned at her stepsister. "Yeah. Now look who's the champ!" Sam stuck out her tongue as she firmly planted an arm around Allen. "Even a little kid beat ya. Hehehe." She laughed as the green-eyed girl groaned. The taller girl would be making fun of her all night. She'd never thought it possible for anybody to get three gutter balls with lane bumpers.

"Oh shaddup, Sam. We're even. I whipped you at mini-golf; you beat me at bowling." Her face turned red as her companions' started laughing even louder. Even her own brother was a turncoat.

Allen crowed. "Gutter ball. I can't believe you got all those gutter balls!" He was encouraged by his stepsister who was reveling in the blonde's various shades of red.

"Thanks a lot. How about a movie? We've still got time." Allison grimaced as she tugged off the horrible, clownlike bowling shoes. Her mother and Barry had hinted that they didn't want the trio home until a late hour.

The towhead grinned and jumped up in his seat. "Yeah! I wanna see Prufrock! It's about a wizard and frogs and dragons and umm… a magic rock. Please?"

Both of his girls smiled and nodded their heads. "Sure. But I'm an alien. I can still turn you into a frog…" Sam winked at the boy as he scrunched his face. She tousled his head as she removed her pair of bowling shoes and handed them to Allison. "Why don't you go and pay for this set and return the shoes while I take Allen to the bathroom?" She could tell by the squirming that the boy had to go, badly. He wouldn't volunteer because he wanted to be a 'big boy'. The older girl turned to her stepbrother. "Hey kiddo. Let's go use the restroom huh? I gotta go." She winked at him and he nodded weakly, glad that she needed to use the loo.

Sometimes Sammy was amazing like she never needed to use the toilet and he'd wait all day until he wet his shorts. He didn't want to seem like a little kid. He wanted to be a big boy; he wanted Sammy to like him, not to think he was annoying. Normally, he would have asked Al to take him but he didn't want to ask in front of Sammy.

Sam dropped off Allen in front of the men's bathroom. "Will you be ok by yourself?"

The towhead nodded and shoved open the door, waving back at his alien. A few minutes later he emerged, obviously relieved.

"Did you wash your hands?" asked Sam.

The boy shook his head, chewing his lips sheepishly.

"Busted." Sam raised her eyebrows. "Go back in and wash your hands. Don't forget the soap."

The blond shook his head. "Don't wanna. 'Sides it too high."

Sam chuckled. "You aren't getting out of it. We'll go use the ladies' room and I'll hold you up." She grabbed his shoulder and dragged him into the bathroom. The brunette hauled her stepbrother onto the counter and turned on the warm water. The towhead made a face then sighed. He wouldn't win this battle; besides he wanted to impress Sammy. He was a big boy, after all.

Allen stuck his hands under the water for a minute and nodded his head. "Finished."

The blue-eyed girl grinned at him and shook her head. She pumped soap on his hands. Allen rolled his eyes and scrubbed the soap on his hands then rinsed them thoroughly. Sam smiled at him. "I'm proud of you. Now I'll hold your hand." She dried the towhead's paws on a paper towel and led him out of the restroom as Allison entered, tightlipped and averting Sam's gaze. She waddled miserably to a stall and slammed the door behind her. Sam whistled. She must have to go pretty badly. Holding Allen's hand, she stopped outside of the alley to wait for the blonde.

Sam surveyed the throngs of people crowded along the boulevard. She held Allen's hand firmly, not wanting to lose him amongst the dozens of scantily dressed women and teenagers who were cruising for parties. A warm breeze swayed the palm trees gently. It was a nice night to be out. Suddenly she felt Allen pull at her hand. She looked down at the towhead and cocked her head.

"What's an homosexual?" asked the boy seriously as he attempted to finger spell the unfamiliar word.

Sam understood his lips immediately, her eyes widening in shock as she processed the information. She wasn't that transparent, was she? "Um, Allen. Where did you hear that word?" This was a sensitive matter and she had to handle it carefully.

Allen pointed to a group of burly men. They all wore construction boots, flannel shirts, John Deere hats, and chewed tobacco. One of the guys sported a T-shirt that proclaimed: "Proud to be a Redneck."

"They were yelling at those guys over there calling them homosexuals and fags." Allen explained as his arm moved to the direction where the two men had been. The brunette followed his finger.

Sam sighed as she saw two young men holding hands and yelling at the rednecks. They were wearing typical beach gear, shorts and surf T-shirts with baseball caps on backwards. "Oh Allen. That's when a boy likes a boy or a girl likes a girl. It isn't nice to call anyone a fag, ok?" Sam nodded seriously, hoping that the explanation would be sufficient.

Allison joined them, grinning. "Al! Guess what?" The boy's eyes lit up. "I'm a homosexual. I don't like girls. They're yuck and they have cooties. I like boys; they're cool except I don't like Johnny. He picks his nose." Allen grabbed his throat and exaggeratedly fell to the floor, squirming and writhing, shouting to his sisters. "Gag. I hate girls. Yuck!"

Both of the girls laughed at his display and shook their heads. The boy was cute and his antics were harmless but Allison wondered about why her brother had gone on that tirade. "Sam?"

The dark-haired beauty chuckled. "He heard somebody say the word homosexual. I had to explain to him the whole thing. Boys like boys, girls like girls. I'm sure one day he'll figure out the difference."

Allison nodded. She wanted to encourage Allen to be open-minded and accepting of others, especially since she herself was one of those homosexuals. "Yeah, that's ok." Allison bent down and put her hands on her knees. "Come on, honey, or we're going to miss the movie."

Allen stopped writhing on the floor. "I'm a homosexual and you can't tell me any different!" He sat up and raised his arms.

Allison giggled. "Any different." She picked up her brother and carried him piggyback to the theater. He was getting heavy and soon she wouldn't be able to carry him anymore. He was growing up too fast for her, although he'd always be her baby.

Sam paid for admission to the movies and stood in line for popcorn and sodas. She grumbled to her audience. "What do they want next? Your firstborn child? It costs an arm and leg for tickets to a movie and look at the prices for popcorn and soda!" The cheapskate in her reared its ugly head as she fumed. She saw a flush of red creeping up her stepsister's face and furrowed her brow in question. "What's going on?"

The blonde shrugged. "Allen is telling everyone behind us and front of us in the line that he's a homosexual." She laughed and shook her head. "Little kids." Allison turned to face her brother. "Be quiet, Allen. Don't disturb other people please."

The towhead nodded eagerly and rested his head on his sister's shoulder. Suddenly he was tired and didn't want to watch the movie anymore. "Can we go home now, Al? I'm sleepy."

Allison looked apprehensively at Sam. She was going to be upset, with all that money for tickets down the drain.

Sam caught the glance and growled. "Don't tell me the kid wants to go home!" She was met with a meek nod and she rolled her eyes. "Ok. Fine. Off we go." She could swear she felt a stab of pain in the thigh against where the wallet rested.

"Oh, Beauie," Susan purred as her Beauregard slipped his hand down the front of her pants. "You naughty boy!" She reached blindly to dim the lights but missed her targets.

The dark-haired man snarled as he wrestled the missus down to the cushioned sofa and pinned her beneath him. Their breathing increased frenetically as their fingers fought to undo each other's clothes. "The bedroom, Beauie!" Susan moaned as her husband undid her lacy bra. "The bedroom!" The blaring TV drowned Susan's voice as Barry clenched the sides of the couch.

"Here," the man breathed as he attacked his wife. "I can't wait."

"Momma. Daddy! Guess what? I'm a homosexual!" Allen declared proudly as he ran into the brightly lit living room.

The older Cannizarros jerked apart at the interruption as if they'd been caught red-handed. They sat up straight, but Susan kept her hand on Barry's leg. The older man gulped and reached for Allen as he composed himself. "Sit here, son." He motioned for his lap and Allen jumped in with glee.

"I'm a homosexual!" repeated the boy.

Susan shook her head in disbelief as she discreetly hooked her bra. That horrendous Samantha must be influencing Allen with her unnatural ways. Any girl who didn't want to fix herself up had something wrong with her. She discreetly glanced at the hallway and saw Samantha and Allison standing far too close together. Samantha had her hand on Allison Alexandra's shoulder as if it was the most natural thing in the world. That girl must be corrupting her daughter even further and Allison was probably encouraging her. If she couldn't have Beauregard like she'd had Bob, then Beauregard's daughter was a good enough of an alternative. Forget it missy!

Allison met her mother's hateful gray gaze for a nanosecond. The blonde immediately broke contact with Sam as if her mother could somehow figure out her attraction to the brunette. She began to interpret the heated conversation for her stepsister.

"Allen Alexander. Wherever did you hear that word? It is inappropriate!" Susan's jowls flapped as spittle flew out. Her son had to be straightened out. No Pun Intended.

"I heard it at the bowling alley. Sammy told me it means when boys like boys and girls like girls. I don't like girls. They have cooties! Yuck." He made a face as his daddy laughed at him.

"Oh Allen. You'll like girls one day. Sammy got it right except that homosexuals are boys who like to kiss other boys and girls who like to kiss other girls." Barry explained, hoping that he wouldn't have to go into detail.

Allen shook his head. "Does that mean we're homosexuals? Because I kiss you?" He looked into the older man's eyes as Barry did some fast thinking.

Susan interrupted. "That's different! He's your daddy. Daddies and their sons can kiss each other but homosexuality is wrong. Wrong! It's when men are with each other and women are with each other when it should be a man and a woman like your daddy and me. It's unnatural and you shouldn't do that kind of thing. Nobody should! It's disgusting and depraved. Queers will all go to hell."

Allen's eyes widened. His momma had used a bad word. Being a homosexual must be bad. Maybe he shouldn't try to get Al and Sammy together anymore. He didn't want them to go to hell. But Sammy was an alien, he reasoned.

Allen nodded his head meekly. He didn't want to argue with his momma, especially when she was like this. Was being a homosexual bad? He'd ask Al and Sammy. They knew more than his dumb momma did and besides, he wanted them to kiss. They did like each other and he wanted them to be together like his momma and daddy. "Ok. I'm sorry." He hung his head in apology.

Barry gulped. His wifey-poo's answer was kind of strong but he agreed with her. Homosexuality was unnatural and he was a good Catholic. He'd raised Sam likewise and taught her right from wrong so why hadn't she explained that to Allen? Perhaps she didn't want to deal with the sensitive issues. After all, it was his and Susie's job.

"It's ok son! You're still young; you have lots more to learn from life but don't worry. Sammy, Allison, your mother, and I are here to teach you and guide you." Barry put Allen on the floor and slapped his bottom.

Sam's eyes narrowed dangerously, disgusted at her father and stepmother's homophobia and attitude. What a bitch!

"Hey, girls!" Barry boomed. "Don't hover. Come and sit down. How was your day?"

"It was cool!" Allen enthused as he jumped back onto the couch. "Sammy bowled good."

Allison smiled half-heartedly and acquiesced to her stepfather's request. She sat on the chair next to the couch as she barely controlled herself from giving him and her mother a piece of her mind. "Today was nice."

Sam hadn't moved one step as she mentally counted to ten. She and her father had never discussed homosexuality but she'd always thought he was cool with it, with diversity. The new information made her think twice about coming out. She crossed the few feet separating her from her father and stepmother in two quick paces and towered over them.

"I disagree. There is nothing wrong with homosexuality. You should not be teaching Allen intolerance." She signed slowly and clearly.

"What did Samantha say?" Susan cocked her head and looked at her husband. Seeing his face contort, she thought it better to seek a translation from Allison.

Allison gulped as she whispered the short version: "Sam said she disagrees."

Barry stood abruptly, his lower lip quivering as he stared his daughter down. She didn't budge and returned the hostility twofold. "Don't you dare question my parenting skills. Ever," he said through clenched teeth as he gestured.

"No?" Sam challenged her father. "You're right. After all, I am the model daughter. Reform school, truancy, drugs, shit like that."

The barrel-chested man's eyes bugged out of their sockets. "It wasn't easy raising you by myself." Barry clenched and unclenched his fists angrily as veins stuck out of his neck. "You don't appreciate one bit what me and Susan do for you. You can be such a bitch."

Sam stepped back, stung. Her chin began to tremble at her father's harsh words. "You mean shipping me to military school at the drop of a hat? Painting my room pink without asking me? Thanks so much, dad. You too, Susan."

"Go. To. Your. Room." Barry's tone of voice said it all.

"Go. To. Hell." Sam's expression said it all. She gave her trembling stepmother a cursory glance. "You, go fuck yourself."

Coolly, she plucked her younger stepbrother from the couch and carried him calmly out of the condo as a dazed Allison watched.

"Dewie!" Susan wailed in anguish. "How simply horrible!" The redhead turned to her daughter. "Allison Alexandra, don't you think I'm a good mother? Don't you?"

Allison patted her mother's shoulder automatically. "Of course I do. I'm going to get Allen. Be right back." She hastily made her exit, figuring that her stepsister was dead meat. She jogged down the hallway, searching for the two fugitives. She didn't have to look far, as Sam stood at the edge of the hallway, studying the palm trees and steady stream of cars. She held Allen in her arms as if they had just returned from a stroll in the park.

"Honey," the younger girl said breathlessly as she ran to her brother. She surveyed his face; he was fine. She dared a peek at her stepsister, but Sam wasn't acknowledging the newcomer. She didn't budge even after Allen had been transferred into his sister's embrace. "What momma and daddy said was half right, half wrong. Homosexuality is when two people of the same sex love each other but it isn't wrong. It's perfectly all right."

Allen nodded in agreement and kissed the blonde on the cheek. "I love you, Al." He looked up at Sammy and leaned across to kiss her as well. "I love you too."

The blonde looked her brother in his eyes. "Allen, some people don't understand that love doesn't recognize any boundaries and momma is one of them." She set him down and told him to wait for them down the hallway.

Allison rubbed the taller girl's shoulder tentatively. The wild look, barely controlled, in her blue eyes, frightened the younger girl. Sam's breathing was slow and feral. She was going to explode sooner or later. Gently but firmly, she forced Sam to look at her. "Barry was wrong."

Sam didn't answer for a moment. "He was right. I am a bitch. But it's a free country. I can be a bitch if I want. Just like Susan." She pushed her smaller companion away roughly. "Leave me alone."

Allison came closer to her stepsister and placed her arm around Sam's waist and pulled her in for a hug. The brunette relented and allowed Allison to hold her.

The blonde whispered, "You aren't a bitch. Barry and Susan are the bitches." But of course, Sam didn't hear her words. Allison sighed as she thought about the events of a few minutes prior. Susan and Barry wouldn't react well to the news that at least one out of their three children was gay. Allison was fairly sure that she wasn't the only homosexual in the family.

"Al, kiss Sammy. Make her feel better," said the towhead seriously.

Allison looked at Sam's beautiful face, half-shrouded in the moonlight. She couldn't stand to see the dark-haired girl in pain. Slowly, without thinking about what she was doing, she gently kissed Sam on the cheek, caressing each fine hair. Her soft lips remained as she considered moving a few inches to the left and just kissing Sam on the mouth. To hell with Susan.

The gentle sensation, so unlike Allen's slobbery kisses, took Sam by surprise. Warmth filled her heart. Her pulse raced as her nerves stood on end. Allison cared, no matter what. Sam had never so desperately wanted someone to just hold her while she poured her feelings out.

Allen smiled and remained quiet this time, hoping that Sammy and Al would kiss and be happy.

Sam closed her eyes as she slipped her arm around the blonde's back. Her lips traveled downwards across Allison's forehead then down the gentle slopes of her nose. The older girl paused and momentarily buried her hand in her companion's long hair. She drew the smaller girl in and hugged her for a moment, effectively thwarting Allison's impromptu plan.

"Is he right?" Sam asked, breaking the embrace.

Allison felt warm tears spring forth as she realized Sam's vulnerability. She shook her head hastily. "No. Of course not. He was just angry, that's all. Both of you are too much alike. Opinionated and stubborn."

Out of the corner of her eye, the blonde registered the Allen skipping gaily down the hall to their condo. He threw his sister a big jack o' lantern grin right before he disappeared around the corner.

Shit! Allison panicked. She knew how kids could exaggerate and Allen was in this homosexual frame of mind. When Allen entered the living room of the condo, Susan was sobbing into her Beauie's arms. She heard the boy come in and noticed the silly look on his face.

"Whatever is that?" she shrilled.

"I'm not telling. Nyah, nyah!" He stuck his tongue out as Allison burst into the room.

Barry eyed his stepdaughter wearily. "Where is Samantha?"

"I don't know," Allison lied. "I'll find her once I put Allen to bed."

"Maybe I should do it." Barry rubbed his temples. "I overreacted a bit."

"Uhh… I think I should go. She might still be upset with you," the blonde offered hesitantly.

"I'll go!" Susan exclaimed proudly. "I'll set everything right. You just wait and see. Can I, Dewie? I'll find darling Samantha."

Barry sighed. "Let Allison. I'll put Allen to bed. Come on." He swooped the boy up. "Want a copter ride? What's that grin on your face for?"

The blonde studied her brother with horror. She couldn't let him spill the beans.

Allen shook his head in disappointment. Al didn't have much confidence in him, did she? "Jaykupozon here!" he exclaimed, figuring a little lie wouldn't hurt.

"Wow! Where is he?" Barry asked as Allison backtreaded out of the condo. She'd been gone for too long already and didn't want Sam to disappear.

The brunette was where Allison had last seen her. She laughed as her stepsister approached. "You run like a girl, Allison."

"What?" The sudden change in the atmosphere took the shorter teenager by surprise. "Oh… ha." She shook her head. "Your dad says he's sorry."

"Hmph." Sam scoffed. "It's no big deal. We have those tiffs all the time. I run away for a couple hours, and when I come back, we act like nothing happened."

"Really?"

"Yes. Really. In case you didn't notice, we don't get along," clarified Sam.

The green-eyed girl chewed her lip. "I would never have known."

The taller young woman grinned. "Don't worry. We fight all the time. I'm always stirring up trouble and he's always calling me names."

"Ah." Allison wasn't quite satisfied with the explanation. "That's how you want it?"

"No. Just how it is. Always been that way basically. We love each other to death but-" She sighed. "I'm gonna sit by the pool for a bit."

"All right." Allison ground her mouth. "Don't stay out too long."

"You're not coming?" Disappointment was clear on Sam's face.

"Oh… thought you wanted to be alone," the blonde responded. "Don't want to invite myself along. You're probably sick of me."

Sam coughed and held her stomach in mock pain. "Oh yeah. I'm really sick of you. I'm dying. Come on, let's go." Without further ado, she turned and led Allison down to the deserted pool area. The brunette kicked off her sandals and sat on the deck, dipping her feet into the warm water.

Allison smiled as she removed her socks and sneakers. Sam's invitation meant more to her than she could put into words. She rested her feet in the pool, sitting a few inches away from the older girl.

"Needs cleaning," the blonde commented. A thin layer of algae graced the pool's tiled floor. "The water looks dirty too. The one at home is much cleaner."

"Yep. Daddy takes good care of the pool," Sam replied.

"So, today was pretty funny huh? Can't wait until Allen tells his whole class he's a homosexual." Allison chuckled as she imagined the boy telling his prim old maid teacher in no uncertain terms that he was gay.

Sam laughed as she swirled her feet around in the water. "That reminds me of a joke I heard last week. About the boy who came home one day and told his parents he had sex with his English teacher." She raised her eyebrows in question.

Allison shook her head. "Haven't heard it."

"This sixth-grade boy comes home from school one day. His mom asks him what he did in school and he says 'I got a good grade in math, an A in spelling, and had sex with my English teacher.' Of course, the mom's upset and tells the boy to go see his father. The father's overjoyed at the news and offers to take his son to get ice cream to celebrate. The dad wants to ride their bikes to the place. The boy says: 'I'd rather drive. My asshole hurts.'"

Allison groaned at the punch line. "That's a good one. People always assume English teachers are women. Straight, too." Uncomfortable about where the conversation could lead, Allison searched for a new topic, berating herself for bringing up Allen's so-called homosexuality. "So, having fun this week?"

"That's self-explanatory," Sam shot back as she pointed to her red skin. "Geez."

"I'm sorry about my mother. She's image-driven," the green-eyed girl said.

"Look on the bright side. One more year, then both of us are home free when we go to college. I'm not sure where I want to go yet, though. Probably RIT."

"RIT?" Allison repeated. She knew about the deaf college in Washington, but what was RIT? Lucky Sam… Allison would have to attend a local college and live at home. She would never, ever, allow her mother full rein over Allen's life.

"That's the Rochester Institute of Technology in New York State. They have a lot of deaf people and good programs in computer graphics. Where do you want to go?"

Sam's comment served as a much-needed reminder for Allison, one more reason for them to not have a relationship. They were so young and New York was far. "I just want to get high school over with first," she quipped.

"I get you." Sam sat back and gazed at her stepsister. "You have beautiful hair. So wavy." She crossed her legs and gently smoothed over a stray portion of Allison's tresses. "The color is so unique and…"

Allison met Sam's contemplative blue eyes and smiled slightly. "Yours is too. So black and shiny."

The brunette grinned timidly. "Yep, yep. I know." She adjusted position, focusing her attention on the pool.

They talked for a while until Allison heard Barry calling. "Where are you girls!?"

The blonde jumped in place. "Your dad's yelling for us." She glanced at her watch-she and Sam had been chatting for over three hours. And they hadn't even started.

Sam's throat was parched and she swallowed several times to moisten her mouth. Her cheeks, both sets, were painfully red from yet another beauty improvement session enforced upon her and her stepsister by none other than the beauty queen, Susan Cannizarro. The dark-haired girl gingerly held up a finger and contemplated the digit for several seconds, and shrugged. She pressed the skin on her arm and it turned an angry white before returning to a fierce red glow. She was in pain from the 'tanning sessions' her stepmother had forced upon her. For the last two days, Susan had mandated her daughter and her stepdaughter to lay outside to improve their tans.

Never mind about the cancer risks and the various associated health risks. Beauty came first. Even if both girls were red, they'd have a luxurious and vibrant tan sooner or later. As Susan had said, "Having a tan will improve your chances for dates ten-fold! Honestly, Allison Alexandra! Now, I understand you and Joseph separated, but get busting and find someone new!"

Thank the Gods the forecast for the rest of the week was gloomy. The brunette craned her neck for a better vantage point of her fellow sufferer. She hurt from just the slight movement; her skin was sandpaper on fire. Allison was faring just as well, being frozen in a prone position.

Susan sat in a blue lounge chair next to her daughter and sipped diet lemonade. She wore oversized sunglasses that covered half of her face. Her feet were planted firmly on the scorched grainy sand. She carefully studied every person that passed her way, male and female. Seeking potential mates for her daughter and ensuring that no woman was hitting on her Beauregard was of utmost importance. Allison was faring to be a huge disappointment this week. She barely worked on her tan. The girl had sunned only three hours the day before and she'd only been out for one hour today and was already complaining that she wanted sunscreen lotion. Honestly, the girl had absolutely no idea of the work involved in snatching herself the right boyfriend. Allison Alexandra had also worn a one-piece swimsuit, much to her mother's chagrin. Moreover, she hadn't made a serious effort to flirt with the boys the redhead was pointing out. Why do I have to do all the work for that ungrateful girl?

Samantha's behavior was understood. Perhaps she didn't make much of an effort because she knew no boy would be interested in her. Well, Susan would find someone appropriate to care for her stepdaughter because she and Beauregard certainly didn't deserve to be stuck with the horrible masculine girl for the rest of their lives. Poor deaf girl couldn't support herself, could she? Certainly not, but if no husband was available, it was her duty to care for Samantha. After all, the brunette was one of the less fortunate and it was the duty of the wealthy and the healthy to care for the disadvantaged folk.

Barry, lounging under a huge blue umbrella next to his wife, burped as he stuffed an empty beer can in a little plastic bag. Whew. He was almost out of cold ones. His blue eyes shifted across the sand and landed on his daughter and stepdaughter. Both were lying on their backs, allowing the sun to bake them thoroughly. They were turning over every 20 minutes to get an even tan. He didn't understand why women were so obsessed with their appearances but if it was how Sam and Allison wanted to spend their vacation, it was their prerogative.

He shrugged and returned in search of another beer. His fingers fumbled around in the cold cooler, raking through half melted ice until they fell across their quarry, a nice tall can of Frahm's. He grabbed it out and chugged the cold liquid as it poured down his throat, relieving him immediately. He loved the beach, the lazy days, playing with the towhead, watching women strut around in their skimpy outfits. Just because he was married didn't mean he was dead. He just had to ensure Susie didn't catch his roving eye. Hmm...that brunette in the gold bikini has melons that could knock me out. Yeah. He brought up his book a bit, adjusted his sunglasses, and pretended to read about murder and mayhem. The book was the perfect cover for his voyeuring activities. He reflected that he should have taken Sam to the beach years ago while he was still a single man. Hmm...he was happy anyway.

The redhead scrunched her nose in disapproval as Samantha sat up and took Allison's warm hand in hers, tugging her off the blanket. How dare Samantha interfere with the tanning session and why is Allison Alexandra allowing this? Her bird-like eyes followed the duo with stormy fury as they remained hand-in-hand for the short trek to the towhead. Allen was playing happily in the sand with a bucket and various beach toys.

Susan didn't approve of Allison's friendship with the appalling girl. Although the girl was deaf, she was certainly old enough to go without holding hands with other people unless it was for crossing streets. Poor Samantha. How ever could she manage? Susan fanned herself with a wicker fan and sighed, resolving to supervise the situation for a few minutes. Once she felt like it, she would get up and bring matters to hand.

Sam grinned at the blonde, enjoying the feel of Allison's hand in hers. "Come on. Let's go build sandcastles with Allen."

Allison nodded, tossing her mother a nervous look over her shoulder. Momma wouldn't approve of her detracting from the sunning routine but she was sunburned and miserable already. Allison stumbled across the scorching surface and scrambled to the cool wet sand where Allen was busily building an alien sandcastle. "Hi honey. Having fun? Want me and Sammy to help you?"

The towhead nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! That's-" the small boy pointed to one of the sculptures he was working on. "Supposed to be the spaceship. Jaykupozon showed me a drawing of a spaceship. Is he right, Sammy?" He looked up into his stepsister's twinkling blue eyes as she nodded a mute yes.

Both of the girls kneeled around the sculpture. Allison squeezed a heap of sunscreen lotion in her hand and slathered it on her brother, not missing an inch.

Sam studied the interaction with interest. Allison, not Susan, took care of the towhead. All week, Allison had made sure Allen put on sunscreen every few hours, made sure he didn't swim alone, fed him and bathed him, catered to all of his needs and wants. Allen was one lucky boy, having such a girl waiting on him, Sam mused.

I'd like a piece of that action. She watched her companion's biceps flex as her fingers worked their way around Allen's chest, back, faces, legs, and arms, covering him in white stuff and rubbing it in for good measure. Sam allowed a hedonistic smile to cross her features as she imagined those hands at work on her back or better yet, her legs.

Allison turned her brother around and plastered another layer on his ears. He wasn't going to get sunburned or hurt if she could help it. "Stay still for a few minutes and let the lotion get in. Don't rub your eyes either. You're such a good kid aren't you? Come here and give me a kiss."

The towhead obliged and kissed his sister on the lips, grinning. "You got white on your nose!" Some of Allen's sunscreen had rubbed off on his sister's nose and she had a cute little tip of white.

Sam smiled and reached out to wipe the balm off. The blonde blushed as the dark-haired girl's warm fingers brushed across her nose. Her green eyes reached up to meet warm blue eyes. She smiled shyly and glanced away, afraid her true feelings would be betrayed by simple actions.

"So," Sam broached as she packed sand into a colorful purple pail. "How come Susan doesn't do stuff for Allen?"

The blonde's eyes widened. "She's just busy. Besides, I don't mind."

The brunette turned the plastic pail over to form a tower. "Done burying Allen in chemicals? How about me? I need it." Sam winced as she merely thought of her poor skin. Susan had insisted they not wear any sunblock and Sam wanted to be 'macho' and show off. Next time, she knew better. It was going to be hell getting out of her swimsuit and into any clothes for that matter. Would she be able to sleep tonight? Doubtful.

Allison groaned as she reviewed the state of her own skin. She was most certainly not tan; she was red. Red as a lobster. Later, she and Sam would have to lather on the aloe and tough out the pain for a few days. She heard a shriek and turned sharply.

Susan scrambled across the sand, holding onto her hat with one hand. She skidded to a halt in front of the trio, destroying the lower half of Allen's industriously built sand sculpture. "Allison Alexandra! You'll get an uneven tan and you're missing out on peak tanning hours! Get back on the towel and don't move! Tomorrow is going to be a gloomy day. Let's not waste any sunlight and get shaking!"

The blonde sighed and rose. Sam, puzzled by the goings-on but knowing her stepmother, and not wanting to depart Allison's company, grabbed the smaller girl's wrist. She forced Allison back down soundly on her butt, earning a yelp. Sitting down suddenly on the rough sand was not kind on her sunburned thighs.

Susan's jaw dropped in shock as the uncouth, horrendous, ill-mannered deaf girl defied her. How dare she! "Allison Alexandra Albrecht," she said simply and quietly. Allison felt like a deer stuck in headlights. Sam's grip was firm and she knew the brunette wouldn't let her go anywhere. Besides, she really wanted to stay here with her son and her friend. But her mother...

"Allison!" The redhead grabbed her daughter's upper arm and tried to lift her up. Of course, Allison was simply too much overweight for the older woman's might and the blonde didn't budge.

The brat spoke. "Momma. I wanna Al stay." He stood up and crossed his arms.

Susan felt an inexplicable surge of rage wave over her. Insolent brats she had raised, the lot of them! She threw a glance in Beauregard's direction, but he was snoozing. She grabbed Allen's ear and dragged him to her feet, a scowl on her pasty features.

"Don't give me lip! Have respect for your momma!" She shook his head as pools of tears welled in the boy's expressive green eyes.

Allison growled at her mother's treatment of the little boy. She opened her mouth to say something but Sam interfered. The tall girl grabbed Susan's wrist, firmly removing it from her stepbrother's ear. Gently, Sam sat Allen down on her lap. She wrapped her arms around him protectively, all the while glaring at her stepmother.

Susan's heart thrummed with rage at the way her daughter was sitting on the filthy beach with a smirk. "Be that way. If you don't get dates, you know whom to blame. And start watching what you eat!" Goodness, how had Allison managed to seduce Bob? With that, she haughtily turned around on her heels and marched back to her seat, fuming. Only the sight of her Beauregard's hairy barrel chest and his manly goatee cheered her up.

"Thanks, Sam," Allison smiled as the trio got back to work. She liked a lot of things about Sam but most of all, she loved the way Sam was protective of Allen. She interacted with the boy wonderfully. The blonde contently sat back as Sam applied her artistic talent and created a masterpiece, crediting it to Allen. Sam was so good to her son, so caring.

Allison's stomach growled and she remembered she and Allen hadn't eaten since early that morning. "You hungry?" she asked.

Allen nodded as he dug another sandy hole. "Lunchtime. We take a break and come back."

Allison searched the beach for the umbrella that sheltered her mother and Barry. "Hey!" she called, cupping her hands against her mouth. "Can we go in for lunch?"

Susan threw a disgusted look in her daughter's direction. "You're hungry already? And Allison, don't shout so! I'm right here."

"I'm starving!" Allen whined.

"Fine, fine." The redhead relented as Beauregard grinned at the boy. "We'll be in soon."

"Sam?" Allison waved for the deaf girl's attention; the brunette was busily starting a castle.

"Mmm?" Sam looked up from the task at hand, smiling unconsciously at the sight before her. The green-eyed girl was so adorable in everything she did, even when she twirled a strand of hair behind her ear. Allison's emerald colored swimsuit matched the flecks of green in her eyes perfectly whilst accentuating each and every asset. She snuck an appreciative peek at her stepsister's trim posterior.

"Come on. Let's go eat lunch."

"Yes, ma'am." Sam saluted the blonde. "After you, ma'am." Finally this ordeal is over! At least for today.

"Oh goodness… ow!" Allison groaned as she stood, clutching her sides in pain. She was going to lotion herself before she did anything else in the condo. Sam joined her, standing and experiencing an equal level of agony. They both watched enviously as Allen skipped happily in front of them, his fair skin not showing the slightest hint of red.

"Ohhh…. Ohhh." Allison moaned in relief as the trio entered the air-conditioned condo. Allen ran off to use the loo. "I'm in heaven," the blonde purred ecstatically. She spied a bottle of sunburn lotion on the kitchen counter and grabbed it frantically. "I'm so hot."

"Yes, you are." Sam answered, bemused by her stepsister's theatrics. "You're hot."

The blonde pulled back slightly at the unexpected comment. "I'm hot?"

"You sure are." Sam's blue eyes twinkled mischievously as she took the lotion from her stepsister's hand. "Let me do it." She unscrewed the cap and squeezed a golf-ball sized amount onto her palm.

The brunette painted a small quantity across Allison's forehead. She bent down to cover the rest of the shorter girl's face thoroughly, her lips loitering only inches away from Allison's. The older girl carefully positioned her hands on her companion's swimsuit as not to irritate sensitive skin and drew her stepsister in. She applied the cool ointment to Allison's shoulders. Allison grew taut at the close proximity but Sam was all too aware that she herself was even more high-strung.

The blonde's hands found a natural resting place on the gentle slopes of Sam's lower back as the older girl continued her gentle ministrations, leaving a fine trace of green cream. Sam maintained a hold on Allison as she surveyed her work.

"Uhh… I can do this myself. But thank you." The blonde hastily acknowledged her stepsister's gesture before pulling away. Allen had just come out of the bathroom and it wouldn't do for him to see them together like that twice.

As the trio prepared peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for everyone, Allison scoped Sam discreetly out of the corner of her eye. Sam's slick silver swimsuit didn't do her justice, not by far. An azure bikini might do, the blonde reflected. She loved her stepsister's stomach and had committed every portion of it to memory. Such were the guilty pleasures she partook in every time she saw Sam in her boxers and tight, skimpy T-shirts. A jolt of electricity surged through her body as their hands grazed briefly over a slice of peanut-buttered bread. Goodness… I have to stop acting like a silly schoolgirl in love! Allison chided herself.

Suddenly, she halted in mid-smear, the jelly covered knife unmoving. Love? She had never used that word, not quite, to describe her feelings for Sam. She had convinced herself that she just had a little crush on her stepsister, expressed through exorbitant fantasies stowed away safely in her journal. I'm not in love with her, am I?

"Allison…I'm in love with you." Sam shook her head at the reflection in the mirror. No, that wouldn't do… too straightforward. She didn't want to scare Allison off. She had even scared herself a little bit. Tonight was the night, being the next to last night of vacation. The brunette had promised herself that she would share her feelings with Allison by the end of vacation and by the Gods, Samantha Alice Cannizarro didn't break promises, not even to herself.

She drew in a deep breath and looked herself squarely in the mirror. "Alli. You're beautiful. I want to hold you, to kiss you and…oh!" Sam groaned and made a face. She sounded like all she was after was sex and physical intimacy. Allison was more than that. Maybe she should just kiss the blonde. After all, actions spoke louder than words and a picture was worth a thousand words. Then again, what if Allison did like her but wasn't ready to go that far? Too much too soon? Gods. This was harder than she thought. She blew out hot air and shook her head. Again.

"Alli. What I'm going to say may come as a shock to you and I hope you don't freak out. I understand if you do but I hope you don't and we can at least still be friends cause I've really enjoyed being friends and I can handle that just fine…" Sam hit herself in the forehead and rested her head against the door. She sounded totally lame. Unconfident. Jesus. One more shot.

"Allison." Hold hand. "Over the months that we've known each other I…" Good start. Good start. "… have fallen in love with you. Your beautiful smile, your kind, sweet heart, your willingness to help others, your sense of humor. I'm completely at your mercy. If you just want to be friends, I can handle that but…I just had to tell you how I felt." Not bad at all. But what if I ruin our friendship forever with this? Dammit.

"Ok Sam. You can do it." Practice…makes perfect. "Allison, over the months that we've known each other I've fallen in love with you…no that doesn't work. Too strong. Perhaps if I said care. Ok. Again. Over the months that we've known each other, I have grown to care for you, enjoy your company, your beautiful smile, your sweetness, your sense of humor. If you just want to be friends, I can handle that. I just had to tell you how I felt." Pause? Again. "Alli. Since we've met, I've grown to care for you. I love your company and your sense of humor. You're sweet and umm..." Pause. "If you don't return those feelings, that's all right. I hope we can still be friends." Kiss her?

Sam nodded gamely as she decided that this was the way to go. She would rehearse one more time then go say her lines before she lost her nerve.

Briefly, she flashed back to various points during the previous months. Holding Allison's hand after Mickey hurt her. Holding Allison in her arms while her small body shook at the painful memories of her deadbeat father. The snowball fight. Her tendency to talk too much, her caring nature, her sweet personality. Relaxing in the blonde's secure hold after Allen's fall, letting Allison soothe her. Only worry, pain, and concern were evident in those gentle green eyes; there had been no blame and resentfulness. Dancing, feeling the sway of their hips rocking in perfect tandem. The birthday kisses. Oh Gods, the kiss. The wallet…Joey… all the boys. Sam sighed and moved onto more pleasant memories. She'd told Allison things no one knew. Exposed her vulnerability, but Allison hadn't taken advantage of her weakened state. Sam recalled the poolside chat a few nights ago, talking animatedly with Allison for hours on end. They'd continued their conversation in the condo, only retiring due to fatigue. She felt like she could talk about anything, nothing, and everything with Allison.

The blonde breathed out nervously as she turned on the night lamp. The faint light shouldn't wake Allen up. The shower had stopped a good while ago so what was taking Sam so long to get in here? She wanted to… hell, what did she want to do? She sighed and glanced at the alarm once more. What was Sam doing in the bathroom? The thought of Sam naked sent warm shivers up her spine as she groaned. Stop that!

She sighed when she saw Sam enter their bedroom. She was indeed very sexy, clothed and all. The boxers and tight T-shirt boasting the tall girl's assets left very little to the imagination and the blonde's cheeks heated when she noticed the taut points straining against the material. Allison gulped and patted a spot next to her on the mattress.

Sam grinned. Her heart was thumping and she fervently hoped that Allison wouldn't be able to hear the heart beating out of control. She slowed her breathing and sat as causally as possible, refusing to make eye contact. She spotted the alien ring on the nightstand and brightened. "Hey. You brought the ring." She nodded in approval as her companion smiled.

"Of course I did. How else would I prove my membership to other aliens?" Allison's breathing was erratic as she felt Sam's warmth through the thin blankets against her thigh and shivered.

Sam noticed the shiver. "Are you cold? You can have my blanket. Hold on a sec while I get it." Without allowing the younger girl to answer, the brunette crossed the room in a few strides and grabbed the blanket off her bed and tucked it around Allison. "Better?" She raised her eyebrows in question as Allison nodded feebly.

"You didn't have to. I don't mind. Won't you be cold?" She felt bad that Sam was doing this on her account. "I'll be fine. This sunburn is more than I need to keep me warm."

Sam grunted. Too bad I can't sleep with you and keep both of us warm. "Don't mind. You're more sensitive than I am. I can handle it." Stop being chicken and just tell her! What were the lines again? Dammit. I forgot the fucking lines! Just do it. Kiss her. That's all you have to do. "Allison…I…" Sam's feet played with the rug as her jaw worked its way up and down.

Allison's blood throbbed as she realized that Sam had something important to say. Half of her hoped that it was a proclamation of mutual attraction and interest while the sensible half of her frantically hoped it wasn't.

The blue-eyed girl smiled weakly. "There's something important I had to say. Umm…yeah, that's right. Did you set the alarm?" She nodded, mostly to convince herself that she had truly meant to ask that question.

The blonde wasn't sure what to do. Her chest slumped in disappointment and her eyes watered. She shouldn't be disappointed but she was. "Yeah. It's set and ready to go. Don't worry!" She plastered a fake smile on and gestured at the alarm.

Sam nodded and sighed, wringing her hands. "So… I'm not tired. Are you?" Spit it out, girl! "I…"

Allison interrupted her stepsister. "Why don't you lay down next to me? There's plenty of room and we can chat." Dumb move. You're encouraging something you can't have. You're setting yourself up for a big, major, huge, letdown!

Sam nodded and squeezed in between the blonde and the wall. Her companion remained undisturbed but the brunette was uncomfortable. Her elbow was twisted out of angle and she was squeezed in a few inches of space. She tried not to touch Allison because if she did, she wasn't sure she could stop herself or would even want to stop herself.

Allison looked up into her bedmate's eyes. "Comfy?"

The brunette lied through her teeth. "Yep. Listen, there's something I wanted to tell you and I just have to do this." Great going, you're sounding brilliant and as eloquent as ever!

The green-eyed girl nodded jerkily and waited for Sam to continue.

Sam gulped and shook her head. "Never mind. It isn't important. I forgot what it was I wanted to say."

Allison craned her head forward and raised her eyebrows in question. "Come on! Tell me! I hate when this happens!" She grabbed Sam's hand and squeezed it.

A breath was caught in Sam's throat as she hurried to think. "I, um, I just wanted to make sure you set the alarm."

The blonde smiled in disappointment and she muttered weakly. "Yes. I'm sure."

The brunette raised her head slowly then spoke. "I just wanted to make positively sure, that's all." She squeezed Allison's hand and interlaced their fingers, leaving them there.

Allison took the dark-haired girl's head and rested it upon her chest. She tucked them both under the covers and wrapped Sam in her arms and hugged her.

The deaf girl was uncertain of her next move and decided to stay where she was and just sleep with Allison. Sure, their sleeping together was platonic but it was a step in the right direction. After all, she had one more night to tell the blonde her true feelings. She allowed herself to fall asleep, unaware of the turmoil swirling Allison's heart, and ignorant of the difficult choices that lay ahead for her stepsister in the years to come.

Sam couldn't remember ever feeling so relieved as she packed the last of her shorts. Saturday, Saturday, Saturday! It was just a short hop and skip to bed, then when she woke up, it'd be time to blow this beachy hellhole.

"Sam?" Barry shook his daughter's shoulder tentatively and smiled as she jumped. "Hey." He hugged her quickly. "Have fun this week?"

She nodded warily. Ever since their spat a few days ago, their conversation had mainly consisted of phrases like Pass the salt.

"Good." Barry smiled. "Look, Sam… I love you. I haven't done right by you. I know that. I'm hoping now since you're older, we'll be able to…" His voice trailed off.

"Yes." The brunette averted his gaze as she zipped up her duffel bag. "I know you do. No biggie."

"Susan means well," the older man continued. "She just needs to adjust. But don't you think we're all doing great? Better than before, certainly."

"Yes." Sam straightened and looked at her father.

"I was thinking we would do something when we get back home. Just you and me. Want to catch a ball game? Like old times?"

Sam sighed and puckered her lips, her eyes remaining guarded. "I guess." She managed a small smile.

"Great!" Barry patted his daughter on the back and grinned broadly. Susie had told him to just go talk to Sam and they'd be right as rain sooner or later. As usual, his Susie had been right. "We'll do that."

With trepidation, Sam watched her father stride out of the bedroom. She knew he wouldn't follow through. He never did.

She glanced at the clock. The pageant on TV would be over any minute now. The witch had insisted that Sam watch with them, but she'd gotten out of it by complaining of a headache. Sam grinned wryly; she did have a headache and her name was Susan.

The brunette slipped her feet into her flip-flops and padded into the living room. She had been avoiding the issue of her feelings for the blonde for way too long. Tonight was the night. Sam had spent all day rehearsing her lines and her moves. Now the time had come to execute her plan, but she was nervous as hell.

She had been such a dolt the night before, and in hindsight, thanked the Gods she hadn't followed through. How unromantic to express her feelings in sentences full of pauses, in her pajamas, while the kid slept inches away. Now she had a foolproof plan, complete with idyllic lines of woo. If that failed, her backup was a poem she'd written. And what better place to declare her ardor than on the beach under a brilliant moon? Allison was a romantic and would appreciate the sentiment. After all, what was she supposed to do? Take Allison to a rodeo and feed her peanuts?

Susan was weeping with joy as a plastic woman named Miss Fluffy Snow or something along those lines was crowned. Fluffy Snow wept on the television as the outgoing queen placed the tiara atop her perfectly coifed hair. "Oh, Allison! Isn't that wonderful! See what you could be if only you'd take better care of yourself! Honestly, you haven't met any boys this week!"

Allison sat next to her mother, holding a notepad. Throughout the pageant, Susan had given her tips on how to become more attractive. "See that woman there with the same complexion as yours? What a wonderful smile! Find out what shade lipstick she wears. Oohh… to be young again!" the redhead swooned.

Allison flipped yet another page and jotted down the instructions then gingerly closed the notepad, hoping her mother was done for the night.

"I'm going for a walk on the beach," volunteered Sam. "Want to come, Allison?"

Allison shot a grateful look in her stepsister's direction. She couldn't stand one more night of that moaning and groaning. "Sure." She smiled as she stood and kissed her brother on the tip of his head. "Just let me get my windbreaker."

"Allison Alexandra!" Susan shrilled. "You must be kidding. That garment absolutely does not match your shirt. Change. And Samantha…" The redhead surveyed her stepdaughter's cut-off jean shorts but knew pursuing the matter was hopeless. Even Beauregard had told her to let his daughter wear what she wanted.

The blonde dodged into the second bedroom and attempted to locate a clean top that matched her yellow windbreaker. With most of her clothes already packed, it would be a nuisance. Allison sighed; she'd just leave without undergoing the 'Susan inspection.' She would be strong with Sam tonight. She knew she could be. None of that touching and flirting stuff. If Sam actually was interested in her, coolness should get the message across. Encouraging the dark-haired beauty by allowing her into Allison's bed last night had been a tremendous mistake.

"Don't stay out too late!" Barry grinned as he waved his daughter and stepdaughter off. He loved how close they were getting, like true sisters.

"Bye, Barry." Allison waved and smiled back as she and Sam stepped into the elevator and the doors closed behind them. "Gosh." She shook her head in amazement at her stepfather's pride.

Now he had to go pack the van for their departure tomorrow. He wanted to do the bulk of the work now, so he would start tomorrow morning on the right foot. Barry winked at his wife. "We'll load up the van and put Allen to bed. Then you and I can turn in. How about it, Susie?" He grinned at Allen who was parading around in the condo playing drums and wearing his baseball cap sideways. He was such a cute, sweet kid and they had indeed lucked out. "Let's go." Barry summoned the boy.

Allen ran out of the door, tripping his stepfather in the process. The older man stumbled and grabbed onto the wall for support, cursing under his breath. Thank God there would be no more children in his future! Sam was a handful all by herself, Allison was okay, Allen was wonderful, but he'd his share and hoped to spend his old age in peace. He was glad that Susan agreed with him on this point. They had discussed this again and again and it was clear that both didn't want any more children.

Susan was moaning and whining on the couch. Apparently, she had a headache and couldn't help her Dewie prepare.

Barry gritted his teeth and made several trips up and down the elevator to load the van. His mood worsened as he packed and unpacked the vehicle several times because his wife had brought too many unnecessary things and added to the junk pile during the vacation. Who needed snow skis at the beach? Especially when said family didn't ever ski and never would. Period. Couldn't she have waited to buy them back home? Ten dollars' saving wasn't that much of a difference! A new statue for the garden that already had seven statues and a water fountain. Barry was glad that Susan hadn't decided to go to the outlet malls as planned or he'd have to rent a U-haul to bring everything back. He was getting frustrated. Allen was doing his part by throwing things he could lift into boxes and empty coolers and dragging them down the hall but his wife wasn't lifting a manicured finger.

"Susie! I think I have the van packed all right," boomed Barry from the elevator where he was sweating profusely. "Allen, please be quiet for a minute!" He desperately wished that his daughter hadn't bought the boy the drum set. He'd been going around all week banging away at the drums wearing his cap sideways. Apparently, he wanted to be a rapper some day. Barry stood in the condo's doorway.

"Can you help me for a moment? Just two more trips." He turned and headed for the door but paused in mid-step as his lazy wife moaned for the hundredth time that day. His forehead throbbed with rage as he slowly brought his head around to face the redhead.

"Dewie! Darling! I have a headache!" Susan wailed and pressed a damp washcloth to her forehead. "Ooh honey! I'm afraid I cannot!"

The big-chested man growled. Sure, headache now but the second he got naked, the headache would miraculously disappear.

"Susan." He snarled. "It's just two trips, light things, and we're done. Do you have any idea how many trips I have made? That four-year-old boy has helped me more today than you have all week! You can spare five minutes from whatever TV show you're watching." He thundered at her as she cowered from the couch.

Allen gulped and tiptoed to his room, not wanting to be around when daddy got mad. The last time that happened, daddy had thrown a chair in the pool.

"But this is Oprah! I never miss Oprah!" Susan sniffled.

The dark-haired man groaned. "Susan. Stop bitching. There's a reason why reruns exist. Now. Move.Your. Butt."

"Beauie-poo! It's not my fault that the girls conveniently left and don't you want me to recover for tonight…" she put on her best suggestive tone and thrust her chest out laviciously, exposing a mound of flesh for his inspection.

Barry didn't waver. "I had to rearrange the van a dozen times! Because of those goddamn fucking skis! Why the fuck did you buy them? Nobody in this family skis! Nobody. I can't because I have a bum knee. Sam won't because she doesn't like to ski. You won't because you're too lazy!"

"Beauie-Dewie! They were on sale! We saved money! Ten dollars and thirteen cents!" Susan vigilantly defended herself against her unreasonable husband. She just couldn't understand male logic sometimes.

"Susan. You wasted money because we won't use the skis. We would have saved more by not buying them in the first place. I'm not made of dollar bills. You want a cruise next month and that's going to cost us, what, ten fucking thousand dollars! You want to buy a new car. You want this and want that but you don't do anything! You don't contribute! I work and work and work and nothing! All my money is blown on ridiculous purchases like those skis. What about that expensive mink coat? You haven't worn it ONCE! From now on, I want you to think more carefully about spending money because: A) I was hoping for an early retirement and don't want to work eighty hours a week. I didn't go through an associateship for nothing! And B) We have two children going to college in a year and they need money for tuition and living expenses! Don't forget the mortgage and car payments, Military school for Sam and Allen's tuition at that expensive preschool don't come cheap either! All that damn money we spent on the perfect wedding!"

Barry towered over his wife, hoping he had made his point.

Susan quivered and moaned, pressing her washcloth even more firmly against her forehead. "Beauregard. All this money talk gives me a headache. You just don't understand! Before I met you… you have no idea how I scraped my tips and-"

Barry interrupted. "Look. I understand that you're not accustomed to having so much money but it eventually runs out if you aren't careful. I will always provide what the family needs and perhaps a bit more if possible. I want us all to live comfortably but that also means security in knowing that if something happens, we have a safety net. Not a empty bank account and a huge debt!"

"Oh Beauie. I'm sorry. I won't charge as much. I promise!" Susan sniffled. "I'll help you right now!"

Barry's tone softened and he hugged his wife. Perhaps she had gotten the message. "I love you. Don't worry about ever wanting for anything again. I'll take care of you and our family. Come on and get to it." He guided her through the living room and to the hallway where several sets of pillows and two bags of light beach toys awaited them.

Meanwhile, Sam was studying the blonde from the other side of the elevator, a furtive grin on her exotic features. Allison was so wonderful, so beautiful beyond description.

As the younger girl's knees grew weak, her willpower suddenly vanished. She shouldn't have agreed to the walk. If the taller girl tried anything tonight, the blonde knew she'd be at the mercy of her stepsister. Their eye contact broke when the elevator arrived to the first floor and the doors whirred open.

Once they were outside, sand covering their feet, Sam spoke first. "Let's walk that way." She pointed, indicating a nearly deserted strip of beach. "Remember what the condo building looks like." The shore was lined with hotel after hotel for miles and it was easy enough to just walk by your hotel in animated conversation and get lost.

"Sure," the blonde grinned. Walking on the beach last night with her mother, stepfather, Sam, and Allen had not been fun at all. Pebbles grazed the sensitive bottoms of Susan's feet and a shard of glass cut the towhead's feet. What's worse, Allison had tripped and fallen face down, coughing up sand.

Sam seemed to read the blonde's thoughts. "I won't let you fall tonight." Her blue eyes twinkled mischievously. "I'll push you myself."

"You are bad!" Allison reproached her older stepsister as they fell into step. The light cast off from the hotels and from the moon afforded more than enough visibility for a conversation.

The brunette chuckled as she struggled to remember her lines. Damn it to hell! I can't remember shit. She surveyed the scene in chagrin. Great. Just my luck. Tonight everyone's out for a walk. Privacy, anyone? She fingered the poem in her pocket nervously, waiting for just the right moment to present it. "So, did you sleep well last night?"

Allison smiled. "Like a baby. How about you?"

"Slept great," Sam replied. Actually, neither girl had slept at all, all too aware of the other's presence.

They walked in the shallow part of the ocean, where the water met the sand. A full moon shone brightly above but no stars twinkled in the night sky. Sam and Allison strolled in a silence interrupted by occasional comments.

"We should turn back," Allison broached after a mile.

"Guess so." Sam grinned as they changed course. It was good that she and Allison could be together and not feel the need to talk, that they could be comfortable with each other in silence. "So, I'm asking you now since it's the end of the week. How do you like the beach?"

The blonde shook her head. "It's not bad. I wouldn't mind coming back in the fall or in the winter, when it's cooler and less people are around. I had a lot of fun with you."

"Yep." Sam nodded in agreement, mentally kicking herself for being such a chicken.

"Are you ok, Sam?" Allison asked as she paused. "You're very quiet."

The brunette stopped as well and turned to face her stepsister. "I'm fine. I just… Ummm…." She took a deep breath. Do it now. She remembered a line she was supposed to say. "Allison-"

The fervor and agitation in Sam's normally calm blue eyes simultaneously electrified and frightened the blonde. She had a good idea why Sam had asked her to go for a walk. She couldn't let anything happen; she had to think fast. A trickle of willpower showed itself as Allison blurted out a line. "I know what it is!"

"What?" The unexpected interjection pierced the taller girl's haphazardly glued nerves. Maybe she was moving too fast. Yeah, this had been a mistake. What if… what if… Damn it, she had planned so carefully.

"It's the mini-golf, isn't it?" Allison interjected breathlessly. "Don't worry, don't worry. I won't tell anyone."

"The… the… what?" Sam shook her head slightly in confusion.

"That's why you're quiet. You're afraid I'll brag about beating you. Right?" The green-eyed girl grinned, hoping Sam would follow her lead. How lame! You could have made it more believable!

Sam blinked, trying to figure out if her stepsister was serious. She noticed the blonde's slightly trembling hands and how she kept wiping the palms of her hands against her shorts. She's nervous too. We're both scared shitless. Maybe she's confused. Unsure of her sexuality… too many complications there. The thought comforted the brunette. There was no need to be so touchy-feely. They needed more time. They'd been on pinpricks the last few days around each other. Better to go back to the way it was.

Sam laughed. "Hardly. I think you're the one who's afraid. After all, who beat you at bowling? At the arcade? Who was too afraid to go on the roller coaster? Hmm?" She wiggled her eyebrows knowingly. "I just wanted to see if you could cope with defeat."

The blonde sighed in relief but the ferocious churning of her stomach increased. She only felt like that when she looked at Sam, touched her, or thought about her. Dammit, Sam. Why did you have to follow my lead? No! Stop that! Allison took a deep breath of her own and abruptly walked away quickly.

Sam watched the sudden movement in befuddlement and jogged to catch up. "What's the matter?"

"I just… I just… I really have to use the bathroom." Allison grinned. That excuse made sense. "Yeah."

"You already did." Sam peered pointedly at her stepsister's shorts. "Big dark spot right there."

"What?" Allison screamed in panic. "I did not!"

"Gotcha!" Sam chortled, placing her hand on her stomach. "You're so gullible."

"Bad! Bad!" Allison swatted Sam on the shoulder impishly. "You're horrible."

"Yadda yadda." Sam chuckled, merriment returning to her eyes.

The tension between the two dissipated almost immediately as they resumed their course. "You're fun to tease."

"I'm not speaking to you until tomorrow," Allison said firmly but playfully, her stubborn chin jutting out. "See how you like that."

"Aww, is someone sore?" the brunette teased. "Poor baby." She shook her head as they continued in silence.

A few minutes later, the condo came into view. They'd be back in about ten minutes. Great. Sam became angry at herself again, her earlier reasoning flying out the window. She'd accomplished nothing tonight.

Allison's pace slowed as she realized just how close they were to the condo. She wasn't ready for the night to end. Walking in the pristine sand on a gorgeous night with the woman she was crazy about was a magical experience.

Sam dragged her feet, also reluctant to enter real life again. At the same time, their fingers brushed against each other and Allison nudged Sam's hand into hers.

Sam's eyes widened as her heart shook. She stared at a light in the distance as she walked, keeping her hand in the blonde's loose grip. Slowly, the brunette tightened the grasp, acting as nonchalant as her stepsister. They strolled through the damp sand, hand in hand, as if they hadn't a care in the world. Neither dared to speak or look at the other.

Surreptitiously, Allison reviewed the situation. Good. The beach was nearly deserted. No one could blab to her mother that her innocent blond daughter had been holding hands with her heathen of a stepdaughter.

She interlocked her fingers with Sam's quivering hand, aware that she wasn't Miss Cool and Composed herself. The taller girl's palm was clammy and sweaty but Allison didn't notice. She worried about what Sam must think of her. Her hand trembled like a leaf and Sam had trouble keeping their hands firmly ensconced.

Their thoughts were the same. Is she really holding my hand? Oh God it's so sweaty! What if she didn't mean to touch me but I misinterpreted and grabbed her hand? Maybe I should let go. Yeah… I'll let go. But then what if she really likes me? She'll think I'm not interested. But if I don't let go and she doesn't like me, she'll think I'm some kind of weirdo. It's just for a few more minutes. Yeah. But what if… How do I act around her tomorrow?

They ambled toward the condo in tense yet intoxicated silence. Allison mused out loud, knowing Sam couldn't hear her, that their hands fit perfectly. Sam thought about how she wished she had the courage to do more than hold hands. You can do it, Sam. She's kissed me before. She's holding my hand now. She likes me. Do something, dammit!

A group of bawdy male revelers was building a bonfire in front of the condo. I should let go now. I'll just wait a sec and have her let go first, Allison planned. But neither girl broke the contact, afraid of the repercussions. Their touch gradually slipped away as if nothing had happened. They passed the family van, which was packed to the hilt, and walked into the building, not speaking or looking at each other.

Allison pressed the up button for the elevator and studied her cuticles and her nails, fussing over one that apparently was chipped. She glanced quickly at Sam. Her stepsister was vigorously scrubbing an imaginary dirty spot on her shirt. The brunette looked up suddenly and met her eyes.

"Hate when that happens," the green-eyed girl said hastily and returned to her nails. She perked up when an elderly lady clunked past, using her walker as support. "Waiting for the elevator, ma'am?" Allison chirped. The woman clunked right on out the door, much to the blonde's consternation.

Ding! The elevator arrived. What do I do?

Sam practically leaped into the elevator and accidentally pushed the button for floor number 15, missing her target. Idiot! The room's on floor 14!

Allison swallowed as they moved up. Their room was 1401, but Sam had pressed the button for the 15th floor.

Sam frowned at her faux-pas. How could she have been so stupid to press 15 when she knew full well they were staying on the 14th floor? Hope Allison doesn't think I'm trying to make a move. Tentatively, she pressed 14. That's better.

Allison caught the movement with relief. Sam had just made a mistake. The brunette wasn't going to hit on her.

The blue-eyed girl sighed, watching numbers light up as the elevator lumbered to the proper floor. Her fingers found the poem in her pocket and she shot her companion a quick look out the corner of her eye. It's now or never. She blew out a heavy breath and pried the paper out of her pocket. The brunette raised an arm to give the younger girl the note but hesitated for a moment. With her heart thumping in her throat and goose bumps bursting, she jammed the poem in the blonde's hand before paralyzing fear could set in.

Allison jerked back like she'd been scorched by hot coals. Sam retreated to her corner of the elevator. The ride was taking forever.

Allison tentatively peeked in the dark-haired girl's direction and saw an apprehensive young woman looking back at her with hope. Sam seemed so vulnerable and sweet; the blonde just wanted to go over and hug her. She unfolded the note and began to read. Sam's beautiful calligraphy graced soft saffron stationery.

Alli-

Standing here

Looking at you

My heart beats faster

I revel in your beauty

Your strawberry hair flowing over your shoulders

Your eyes green as marbles

My heart melts as you smile

All of the sudden, I am a blushing school girl

Allison's stomach skidded to a halt when the doors opened on the seventh floor to allow a wrinkled gentleman passage. The man got off on the 12th floor and Sam studied her companion's expression as she read. She was incredibly anxious to know the blonde's reaction. Desperately hoping it was favorable, she watched Allison finish reading the poem after the momentary interruption.

Your beauty is breathtaking

Images of you flash in my mind

Your smile, eyes, mannerisms

Your silky smooth skin, purity

Are forever etched in my soul

My heart will never be the same

As I sneak another glance at you

And wish to the heavens you were mine!

The poem doesn't do you justice. It sucks and it's really dorky but I wanted to get the point across somehow. I care for you and I'm crazy about you. But if you just want to be friends, if you don't return those feelings, I hope I haven't screwed up too much. I'd love to be your friend.

Always,

Sam

Allison's breath caught in her throat. Her hands trembled as a tear trickled down her cheek. Sam stood in the corner, slack-jawed, afraid she'd hurt the blonde. She was unsure as how to comfort her. Her first reaction was to stride across the small elevator and wrap the lithe young woman in her arms but perhaps that wasn't the wisest course of action.

Sam motioned for Allison's attention. The elevator stopped at their destination and the doors hummed open, allowing the girls to spill forth.

They paused in the alcove next to the vending machines. They stood in silence as the younger woman held the poem to her chest and turned her back to Sam. The florescent lights buzzed above and cast ghastly blue shadows upon the carpeted floor.

The deaf girl swallowed. Her heart crashed to her feet as if she'd received a severe blow to the stomach. She'd just irreparably ruined her relationship with her stepsister, her only true friend. Sam's lower lip quivered as she gulped, willing herself not to cry. What did you expect? At least she's not mad or anything. She chewed her lip, hoping that she didn't seem overly disappointed.

Her eyebrows raised in expectation as Allison slowly looked at her friend. "Sam. That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. And you say you aren't a romantic." She frowned. "Are you all right? You look like you're ready to cry." Another tear made its way down her cheek. She couldn't deny her heart any longer.

Sam reached tentatively for Allison and gently wiped away the tear with her thumb as her heart lurched. Allison wasn't rejecting her. "I wasn't a romantic until you," she murmured. Their eyes locked. The younger girl was all too aware of the heated scrutiny as her heart clanged nervously. Before the dark-haired girl could lean in for a kiss, the blonde wrapped her arms, poem still in hand, around Sam's back, grazing the nape of her neck in a gentle kiss. She inhaled Sam's sweet soapy scent and musky cologne.

The brunette ensconced the smaller woman in her arms and held her close, savoring the feel of Allison's soft lips stroking her skin. She tracked down the shorter girl's lips and firmly pressed against them, claiming them, first with an apprehension that grew into confidence. Their bodies mingled, relishing the other's heat. Sam's hands slipped under the blonde's shirt as her whole being tingled at the contact with Allison's warm skin.

They broke apart for a breather, panting slightly from the recent affirmation of their attraction to each other. Both couldn't wait for more but now was neither the appropriate time nor the appropriate place to proceed. They gazed into each other's eyes, awed at the sensations overtaking them.

"Oh, Sam," Allison whispered as she reread the poem. "This isn't dorky at all." She detected movement from her side and turned.

Her mother stood unmoving, a strangled cry emanating from her throat. She sounded like a dying beast as she clutched a bucket of ice to her chest. Hate and animosity rushed forth from her eyes and from her snarling lips.

A frigid grip clutched Allison's heart, rendering her immobilized. She remembered that exact same expression from almost five years ago.

The doctor had told them at the same time, as light reflected off his shiny bald head. "Ms. Albrecht, Allison's pregnant." The world shifted into slow motion as he looked at the twelve-year-old girl with scorn and disdain. She was just another slut to him.

"Pregnant? Pregnant!" The news took Susan entirely by surprise. She grasped her daughter's arm. "Who's the daddy? That little pipsqueak who's always hanging around you?"

Allison trembled. She had hoped Susan would never find out about her and Bob, the love of her mother's life. Tall and handsome, with curly strawberry blond hair and sparkling brown eyes, Susan fell in love with the charmer at first sight. Bob moved in right away and stayed for two years.

He had caught her one night as she curiously leafed through a lesbian magazine. "Good girls don't do that," he said drunkenly, his speech slurred. "You need a real man, baby. Yeah… Come here. Come to me."

Sam noticed the sudden change of atmosphere and followed Allison's frightened line of sight. The blonde continued to shudder at her mother's expression and at the memories.

"How could you? How could you?" Susan was angry and disgusted at the sight before her. "Oh my God, Allison, how could you?"

As always, e-mails are welcome at sarkel_bard@yahoo.com