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.

Part 5

"Allison. What did Sam tell your mother today at lunch?" inquired Barry, voicing and signing.

"Uhh..." Allison glanced at Barry nervously, studiously avoiding her mother's infiltrating eyes. "She told momma that she didn't want her interfering in her life. Sam didn't really say much more than that."

"Any name calling involved?" Barry asked.

The unstrung blonde swallowed. "The only one was when…"

Sam interrupted, signing to her father furiously. "Susan called her an elephant!"

"An elephant?" repeated the muscular man. He must have misunderstood his daughter.

Susan rolled her eyes. "Samantha took that way out of context! The girls don't know how to joke!"

Allison sighed. "That was the only name this afternoon."

"Lard---? Wide load?" asked Barry.

"Huh?" Allison registered genuine confusion on her face. "Truck warnings? I'm lost here." She shook her head.

Barry sighed. Maybe Susan had exaggerated a wee bit. The little wifey was a bit sensitive. He decided to ask about the shoplifting.

"Well, what about the shoplifting?"

Allison's heart raced. She was a horrible liar but attempted to answer casually and nonchalantly. "Oh that? Well, I was surprised when the alarm went off! They thought momma stole the perfume but it must have fallen in there by accident or something. But everything turned out fine."

Sam chuckled silently, relieved, as a stack of worry flew off her shoulders. Her accomplice had come through, and done a bang up job, too.

The conflicted judge pondered the dilemma. Sam's and Allison's stories matched up and Susan's statements seemed exaggerated but he had to keep his gem happy and the girls could be in cahoots. He knew his daughter.

Her father sighed and rendered his verdict to the three expectant females. "Maybe the perfume was an accident after all. Those things happen and it was, after all, resolved without too much trouble. As for the name calling part…Sam, I can't condone you calling your future mother a lard--- and wide load." The older man shook his head as Allison shot a distasteful look at her mother and lost even more respect for her.

"Well, girls. You're restricted to Sam's room for the evening." Barry passed the sentence firmly.

"Oh Beauregard. I think it would be better if they were restricted to the guest room. After all, darling Samantha Alice does have a full entertainment center in her room and Allen is having so much fun in there."

Barry bent down to give Susan a full on lip lock. "You're right." He turned to the prisoners who had disgusted expressions clear as day on their faces. "You both are restricted to the guest room and you can think about what you did today. No arguments." He handed them a thick and heavy business law book. "Do a ten page report on libel together. Sam, this will help you in law school."

Sam and Allison knew not to dig themselves further into trouble and simply nodded mutely. Sam grabbed the book as Allison took the new clothes and they marched upstairs. Allison groaned. A ten page report on the law! Ugh. She didn't see why her blue-eyed companion was grinning.

Once they were in the guest room, Sam wrote furiously.

"I know everything there is to know about libel. Daddy doesn't know I recently took a journalism class. Right before I came here we had an ethics final exam. I'll just rewrite it. I need to remember." Sam tore off the paper and handed it to Allison.

Sam let the words come to her as she recounted the outline of the final exam. The task was easier than she'd expected and with minimal help from the law book, she finished quickly.

Allison sighed with relief. Whew. She hated research papers of any sort. Now she could get out of here. But before she could even twist the doorknob, Sam stopped her, shaking her head.

"Are you stupid or what? Daddy will know something's up!" The dark-haired girl signed slowly then pointed to her watch. She held up two fingers - two hours was a reasonable time frame. She continued the conversation on paper. "Let's sneak out. Our parents are boinking in bed. I figure we have a good couple hours."

Allison paused to think but before she could finish considering, Sam was already out the window. "Wait up. I'm coming!" The blonde climbed out of the window and gingerly walked on the roof towards her more daring chum.

Sam trotted down the roof with practiced ease but Allison had a difficult time keeping her balance and almost fell down the roof.

Corny greeted them happily, his usual enthusiastic self. "Mmm." Sam kissed the dog's muzzle. She loved her boy.

"Where are we going?" Allison questioned.

"You pick." Sam stuffed her hands into her pocket. Their choices were limited; Dino was not available because Barry and Susan would hear the garage door open or discover later that the Bronco was gone.

"Uhh… how about we go grab a bite? I'm hungry." Allison imitated a person eating then placed her hands on her stomach and made a pained expression. Her gestures were clear and plain as day.

Sam nodded in agreement and they set out for dinner with Corny at their side for most of the trip.

They hadn't walked but a block and Allison was chilled. It was dark out and the moon barely made an appearance. A brisk wind was picking up, sweeping her fine strawberry blonde hair around her face. The wind whistled as the trees swayed in protest of the harsh treatment. The younger girl wrapped her arms around herself. Sam noticed the movement but wasn't going to admit she was cold herself. They'd be at Mickey D's soon enough.

Sam pointed at the golden arches in the distance as Allison moaned.

"I hate McDonald's. Can't we go somewhere else?" she whined.

Sam rolled her eyes and held up an index finger. "One mile to the next place," she mouthed. Allison was in for a rude surprise.

She ahhed. "I think we can tough out another mile to wherever it is."

Sam grinned and indicated her agreement. She'd neglected to inform Allison that the next place was also a McDonald's.

They walked past the restaurant and continued straight down the nearly empty street. They ambled another mile and that mile turned into two miles before they finally saw another McDonald's. Allison's distressed expression at their destination made the whole walk worthwhile for the taller girl.

Sam frowned in exaggeration and looked around, then held up her hands. They had no other dining choices.

Allison groaned. "Ok. I can live with it I guess." She was so cold that she'd take anything. They stepped inside and blessed warmth coursed through both their bodies.

Allison ordered first, getting a Big Mac and fries, then turned to Sam. "Tell me what you want. I'll order for you."

Sam scowled and roughly pushed her shorter companion aside. She wasn't a charity case and was fully independent. Allison watched, hurt, as Sam conveyed her message with minimal trouble.

"Why so glum?" Paul asked Mickey as the pierced young man hopped into his friend's lime green junky car.

Mickey shrugged as he accelerated. "Too many girls lately. Little Mick's sore."

Paul laughed. His friend was a riot. He'd bet his life that Mickey was still 100 percent virgin. "Anyway," continued the green-haired youth, "what's the plan? I was thinking we'd go case the new computer store. That's where the money is. Besides, I need a new zip drive."

Mickey nodded. "Got it. Sam coming?"

Paul shook his head. "Nah. She's shopping for clothes today with the stepmother. Let's stop for a bite first."

Mickey blinked. "Clothes? Ha ha. That isn't funny." He pulled into a McDonald's. "This dump ok?"

Paul burped. "Whatever. It's not like I can afford sirloin."

Mickey slammed the car door shut, fingering his dollar bills. Only five bucks. Damn. He needed to go to the computer store for sure tonight. Maybe afterwards, he'd stop by and see his angel at the coffee place. Without Sam around, she'd be more than receptive. Mickey licked his lips. He could almost see her, hear her.

As they sat down, the blue-eyed girl shot Allison a look; don't say anything about my selection. Allison had been studying Sam's two Happy Meals; she'd never pegged the strong and silent military school student as the type to get… Happy Meals. She thought it was cute.

Allison smiled. "So. How come you get Happy Meals?"

Sam flung her arms up in desperation. Allison never followed instructions.

Allison laughed at the older girl's reaction and finger spelled. "I think it's cute and darling that you're still in touch with your inner child."

Sam chewed her lip. "I am not in touch with my inner child. I just collect the toys. Some of them will go up in value later and the hamburger tastes the same as any other burger."

Allison ahhed. "Well, I still say it's cute and darling. I have some of my old Happy Meal toys. Did I show you my Alf dolls? I just love that cute furry al…." Before Allison could finish her sentence she heard a familiar strange voice shout out.

"Hey all!" Mickey seized the seat next to Allison and munched on her French fries without invitation. She wouldn't mind, being destined to serve him and all. One look at her and fire spread through his wiry body. She was sharing her fries with him, and smiling seductively at him. He caught her eyes roaming his rather large torso. Well, what could he say? He was a Mick, all right.

Allison said nothing about the shrinking pile of fries. She wasn't the confrontational type.

"Sam, you and the babe wanna hang out with Paul and me tonight?"

Mickey was rewarded with a pair of narrowed blue slits and he gulped. After a momentary pause, Sam shrugged and turned to her blonde associate who was obviously uncomfortable. Sam wanted to hang out with Paul and Mickey but it was up to the girl. Allison nodded tentatively. "Ok." How bad could it be, really?

Paul arrived at the table with his food and threw a cheeseburger at Mickey. The group ate in silence, polishing off their food in record time. Sighing, Allison watched Mickey demolish her fries.

Back in Paul's basement, Sam declined marijuana, accepting only two beers. She wasn't in the mood to get stoned. The tall girl popped one can open and thrust it into Allison's hands. Allison sipped the beer tentatively as Mickey got out some whiskey and vodka.

"Yo. Here's some hard liquor." He poured each person a shot of vodka and downed his in one gulp. Sam and Paul followed suit, then all eyes were on Allison.

She looked around nervously and pointed at her watch. "Oh! It's late. Barry and momma should be finishing any moment now. We should be going." Sam gave her future stepsister an incredulous glare. Who cared about that?

Sam shook her head at Allison's comment, telling her not to worry. "Drink up!" Sam motioned for the blonde to down the glass, egging her on. "Chicken?" She flapped her arms like a hen.

Allison moaned but took one tiny experimental sip. "Ooh that burnt! I can't!" The blonde shook her head, swinging her hair around her shoulders and clutched her hand at her throat.

"Aww, you can. Just swig it back down really fast and you won't taste it or feel it." Mickey proffered and demonstrated. If he got her tipsy she'd be more receptive to his advances, not that she needed help.

He poured another shot for the hot piece. Allison sighed and pitched it back before any second thoughts could enter her mind.

"Ooh! Wow! That's awesome! One more!" She giggled at him. "More!"

Mickey winked, reading between the lines. "Later, later." He poured her another drink, and Allison downed it in less than a second.

"More!" Allison reached for the bottle of vodka. The taste wasn't so bad and her stomach felt rather pleasant and warm.

Mickey laughed at his feisty filly. "Soon, soon. Not in front of the guys. I know I'm irresistible."

Allison laughed and swatted Mickey's arm. "Irresistible? Yeah right!"

Mickey leered as he caught sight of the young woman's cleavage. Hot damn! He poured yet another glass but Sam put up her hand and signed to Mickey.

She didn't appreciate Mickey providing her inexperienced future stepsister with an infinite supply of liquor and looking down her blonde companion's shirt. Women weren't meant to be meat markets. She held up a stilling hand. "No more for Allison. Save it for tomorrow night, New Year's Eve." She didn't want to get in trouble for both sneaking out and getting daddy's girlfriend's kid drunk. Plus she would have to sneak back in the house and Allison couldn't do that inebriated. She wasn't planning on more than a beer or two herself and could handle her liquor.

"Whoa, whoa. Let her decide, eh?" Mickey scowled, resenting the dark-haired girl's command. Allison was his to decide what to do with, not hers. Hmph! He was rewarded with a silencing look. Indeed, he had forgotten Sam Cannizarro was not someone to be messed with.

Allison looked back and forth between the arguing duo and volunteered her two cents, managing to convey her thoughts. "That's all right. I've had enough for tonight. Thanks anyway."

Mickey shook his head. Damn that Sam. "You sure, angel?" he asked the blonde.

Allison nodded her head. She didn't want to go against Sam's wishes, and she didn't need to get in any more trouble with her mother.

The group settled down as the deaf people became engrossed in the carburetor for Paul's future hot rod. The bored hearing girl sat on Paul's masterpiece of a couch, staring at the trio hunched over the worktable. She had never understood the big deal about cars and engines. Sighing, she glanced at her watch for the umpteenth time. If she and Sam didn't leave soon, they were almost guaranteed to be busted for sneaking out.

Allison sighed and decided to give Sam a few more minutes before signaling for their exit. The air in the basement was stale and stifling, and her fair cheeks burned from the harsh fluorescent lighting. Brooding, the blonde stood and marched to Sam. At first she waved in front of Sam's face and rubbed her shoulder as demonstrated earlier but the dark-haired girl ignored the intrusion. Finally Allison rapped the tall girl sharply on the shoulder and earned an annoyed look.

"Just a second!" Sam returned to the mystifying piece of equipment as the blonde threw up her hands and rolled her eyes. She didn't want to wait all night but she had to get some fresh air.

"Fine! I'm going outside." Sam didn't acknowledge the message, remaining engrossed in the task at hand.

Mickey's heart skipped a beat. The pixie was telling him in her subtle way that it was time, but that she wanted to be discreet. Sure, he could understand. He winked at her, letting her know he would be with her soon. He decided to wait about five minutes before following, so that the other two wouldn't get suspicious.

Allison walked outside and breathed in deep gulps of the refreshing cold air. The view from Paul's backyard was breathtaking. She could see the dark outline of the Blue Ridge Mountains in the distance. Unlike the first night she had visited Paul's house, the sky was blazing in full glory. The stars glittered and the man on the moon shone down on her, smiling. Living in the shabby part of town, she almost never got to see the sky in its pristine virtue. That was one of the precious few things she missed about life in Arkansas. She squinted her eyes as she studied the constellations. Should get a book on that since I'll be living in full view of the clear night sky soon.

The shivering young woman wrapped her arms around herself as she studied the Big Dipper. It was just so…beautiful! How many Earths that black sky must have seen. The persistent hooting of an owl gradually restored Allison to her lowly status in life. She glanced at her glowing watch. She'd given Sam nearly ten minutes to wrap things up. Now it was time for them to get going.

Meanwhile, Mickey was putting his half of the plan into motion, shifting his feet uncomfortably. He wanted to give the impression that he really had to take a leak. He slapped Paul's arm and signed to him. The green-haired youth barely nodded and Mickey slipped outside to meet his amour. She was standing next to an oak tree, peering at her watch.

Mickey grinned. She's counting the minutes 'til I come out. Well, here I am and ready to rumble. He slid up behind his unaware prey and wrapped his arms around her. Tonight was the night. He could feel it.

Allison jumped. "Mickey! What are you doing?" She squirmed but couldn't get out of his grasp.

"Hey babe. Damn, you're smart. I wouldn't of thought of this. Ready to get to know each other better?" He caressed the woman's chest as an erection grew against her firm buttocks. His pixie's breasts fit like a jigsaw puzzle in his large, manly hands; they were made for each other.

Allison's eyes widened, the shock paralyzing her for a split second. Stay calm. She took a deep breath. "Let me go," she demanded, futilely attempting to peel Mickey's grimy and grubby hands off her breasts.

"Now, now," Mickey cooed, fondling Allison's ear with his magic tongue, clasping the struggling pixie closer to him.

"Let me go!" Allison screamed, abandoning all pretense of calmness. "Let me go, you bastard!" She furiously elbowed her captor in his ribs and stepped on his thick boots.

"I'm good. Very good. Never had complaints before. You won't regret it. Let little Mick do his magic." The would-be rapist leered at the frightened girl as he manhandled her crotch. "If you're a virgin, Mick might be too much to deal with at first, but don't worry. I've magic fingers too."

"Stop it!" Allison jerked in vain against the stronger current. "I don't like you! Someone help!"

Her screams intensified as Mickey slipped a hand up her shirt, grappling with troublesome bra straps, while keeping the other hand tightly ensconced around the writhing body glued to him. After the taste of little Mick, the pixie would never struggle again.

"Don't bother. Paul's parents are deaf too. Don't struggle. It'll be easier and more fun that way. Unless you like it rough." A light came on in Mickey's eyes. Now he understood Allison's resistance.

"Oh yeah!" He purred excitedly. "You like it like that ok. I'll give it to you baby!" He planted his slobbery lips on Allison's cheek as full-blown panic overwhelmed her. The victim turned her face to deflect Mickey's lips as she tried to think her way out. Be rational. Panic won't get you anywhere.

"Mickey, I have the clap. I don't want you to get it."

The deluded boy wasn't daunted. "It'll be worth it. For you." He bent in for another kiss as Allison ducked.

"I also have uhh…" She stomped her foot down on Mickey's but he didn't budge except to push her down to the ground.

"Ok. Ok. We can do this but I don't want you to get my disease. I care for you. At least put on a condom!" Allison pleaded.

Mickey smiled and nodded. That was more like it. "I knew you'd come around. You won't regret it!" He dug around in his pocket for that three-year-old condom. It'd finally come into use. As he was occupied, Allison wormed her way out of his weakened grasp and kicked him squarely in the balls.

Meanwhile, Sam and Paul were wiping grease from their hands. "Looks like Mickey is taking a dump, not a leak," observed the youth.

"Yeah. I better get going." Sam surveyed the basement. "Where's the motor mouth?"

At that moment, Allison burst into the basement crying and nearly jumped in Sam's arms.

Sam patted the distraught young woman on the back, wondering what the hell was going on. "What happened?" She held Allison at arm's length. "You okay?" Her hair was askew, her bra undone, and grass stains and greasy handprints smeared her lime-green shirt and her unbuttoned pants, concentrated around one area in particular.

Allison rejected the separation and clung tightly to Sam. Another onslaught of sobs rose out of the frightened victim while her comforter felt the torn back of the blonde's shirt. Sam's eyes roved frantically around the basement as she realized Mickey was nowhere to be seen. No further explanation was necessary as she went on the warpath. Tossing the blonde into Paul's arms, she strode furiously through the partly open door. Mickey was one dead man. Men who tried to take advantage of women made her sick and Allison was as innocent as they came. The son of a bitch wouldn't know what had hit him.

Paul patted Allison gently, unsure of what to do or say. There were no excuses for what the creep had done to the talkie. Sam would teach him a lesson; he was sure of that. If only his friend would feel so passionately about him, but he had known for quite some time that it was not to be. Sighing, he offered the shaking girl some whiskey and motioned for her to drink up.

Mickey knelt on the ground, clutching his family jewels in agony, when a pair of steel-toed boots connected with his jaw. He went down on his back, vomiting blood and teeth. Pain shot up his face as the avenger hauled him to his feet and penetrated his skull. A fist slammed into the side of his permanently marred face and sent another pair of teeth splattering. Sam pummeled him with her fists as his ribs cracked under the heavy pressure. A black eye formed as the dark-haired girl paused. Panting, she stood with her boot on the bastard's neck, her hands covered with blood. A few of Mickey's teeth littered the ground and his eye was swollen shut as the attacker-turned-victim clutched his stomach in excruciating agony. He didn't know what had hit him, a dump truck or a bulldozer. "Didn't know she was yours, ok?" He managed the sentence feebly as blood gurgled out of his mouth.

"Slimeball. She's not mine. She doesn't belong to anybody. Moron. I don't ever wanna see your ugly mug again. Ever." Sam finally removed her boot from Mickey's throat and prepared for the coup d' etat.

As she latched her bra back together, Allison heard the sounds of fighting from the vantage spot inside the basement and panicked. What if Mickey was hurting Sam? "Paul!" she turned to the youth. He stared at Allison warily, pretending he hadn't understood. One time he had interrupted Sam in the middle of a fight and had learned his lesson, a trip to the hospital. Once Sam got going, she couldn't be stopped.

"Paul!" The blonde entreated but realized he wasn't going to intervene. She tiptoed to the doorway just in time to see Sam's boots leaving Mickey's neck. The young man lay crumpled on the ground, unmoving in a pool of blood as Sam went in for the kill.

"Stop!" Allison stumbled to the adrenaline-filled young woman and grabbed her arm. "Please!"

Sam spun wildly, almost knocking down Allison. Her breathing slowed as she recognized the frantic green eyes and ruddy cheeks. She angrily pointed to the pained boy on the ground and spat on him. Don't you want him punished?

"Please Sam. That's enough." She tugged on the taller woman's shirt and dragged her from the puddle of bones and blood. The feral look in her future stepsister's eyes sent chills up her spine. Samantha Cannizarro was a bomb waiting to go off.

Sam allowed the blonde to tow her away as sanity returned. Allison didn't need any more grief. The heaving girl wiped her bloody hands on her jeans as she pulled the distraught blonde into her arms and led her into the basement.

"Paul, the S.O.B. better not be here tomorrow night." Paul gaped at the sight of the two blood-covered women. The damn idiot creep. He took a quick look outside and cringed. Well, Mickey had deserved every bit.

Sam guided the blonde outside. "I know a shortcut." They started walking in the direction of Sam's house, her arm around Allison's shoulder.

Allison was still sniffling and holding onto her avenger. She hoped that the jerk had learned a lesson or two but she didn't know who had scared her more tonight, Mickey or Sam. The look in her blue eyes… the look in Mickey's eyes… Allison sighed as she leant into the reassuring arm around her for warmth and security. She knew Sam wouldn't hurt her. For once, her protector didn't resist. When the duo reached a street light, Sam removed her arm from Allison's shoulder and held her away gently.

"Why were you outside with Mickey?"

She shook and sniffled again. "I…I…I just went outside f…f..for f…fresh air and the next thing I know," She swallowed and shook her head. "Mickey came up and…and…"

Sam sighed and cupped the blonde's chin in her hand. "Did he…well?"

Allison shook her head furiously and wiped a tear away. "No. I'll be fine."

The taller girl pulled her distraught companion in and squeezed her shoulder comfortingly. Thank the Gods for small favors. "I'm sorry."

Allison looked up into concerned blue eyes. "Why?"

The blonde studied the beautiful young woman's profile but she wouldn't acknowledge the gesture. "My fault."

She shook her head and forced Sam to look at her. "No. Not your fault. Don't feel bad."

Sam nodded; she didn't want to argue. She silently took Allison's hand in hers for the rest of the walk, unconsciously allowing herself to be comforted as well. They snuck back into the Cannizarro house and cleaned up as best as they could then changed into the newly bought clothes under the pretense of modeling them for Barry. They were just in time, for five minutes later, Barry shouted upstairs for the report on libel.

Meanwhile, Mickey dragged himself off the ground, tasting blood and empty gaps where teeth had formerly resided in his mouth. He limped to Paul's door but it was locked and the lights were off. The basement was deserted. Angry, he kicked the brick exterior and muttered an oath. That dyke bitch would pay. She had chosen the side of a complete stranger over a lifelong friend and had interfered with his destiny. Did the dyke really think that the pixie would rather be with her than with him? He and Allison belonged together. He was going to have Allison sooner or later; she just enjoyed playing hard to get. And there was nothing anyone could do since he and Allison were fated to be together. He was going to get Samantha Cannizarro in the worst way possible, where it hurt. Of that he was sure; now all he had to do was figure out how.

Usually when the alarm sounded in the wee hours of the morning, especially on a Saturday, Susan Albrecht slammed the damned thing off and mumbled a string of curses. On this particular spring sunrise, however, the woman was up before the beep, tossing excitedly in bed. Feather and Jacqueline were hosting a wedding shower for her today, and the wedding itself was only a few weeks away!

She'd spent the last six weeks, from Christmas to the end of February, tirelessly preparing for the blessed event, ensuring she and Beauregard would have the best church, the best dresses, the best caterer, and so on. There was still much more to do, but she could finally taste and grasp the culmination of all the hard work, all the sweat of not only the past few months, but of the past decades.

See, mamma, daddy, see what Susanna's done. She's got money now, a nice big house, a lawyer for a husband. Just as good as Jacqueline, maybe even better. But of course they wouldn't come, probably didn't care.

She'd carefully addressed the invitation to her parents, Dr. and Mrs. William Marshall Hollingsworth III, in her best calligraphy. The personal note she'd enclosed spoke of great joys and triumphs, begging her parents to recognize her worth, studiously avoiding any direct references to Phillip Albrecht, the man who had ruined her life by convincing her to elope. My daughter Allison Alexandra is so beautiful, so smart (just needs to drop a few pounds). She's 16 now-imagine! Sixteen years old, will be 17 in a few weeks after the wedding. My son is so smart too; he's truly gifted. I'll have a decent job soon as a receptionist for a nice company. And Beauregard! What can I say about him? He is so perfect and I love him. He's a successful lawyer. With a $2.3 million portfolio. His father's a senator, did you know that? Haven't I done good, mamma? Haven't I? She had broken down then, into tears. Why don't you love me? You're my parents!

Of course, Susan hadn't actually sent the invitation. She already knew what the response would be, the same as it had been for as long as she could remember. The letter would come back to her unopened. Unaccepted and unwanted, just as she was. But someday, she'd prove herself to her parents and have the last laugh.

While Susan tossed restlessly, her daughter stared at the pink canopy hanging above her bed. Today was the wedding shower, and then before she knew it, she'd be living in a different house, living a different life, with a new family. Hopefully, a real family for Allen. Barry would be an ideal father and develop the boy's self-confidence, while Sam had already exhibited what a good sister she would be. Allen was all the blonde cared about, the little boy who had unexpectedly entered her life such a short time ago. He was a sad child, she knew that. She and Susan had done that to him. Susan, by oppressing him, and Allison by letting her get away with it. Once again, she swore to herself that no matter what, she would never let the boy live the kind of life she had. Seeing her father passed out on the couch. Coming home one day and seeing his bloated, discolored body on the porch. She had been glad when he died. Yes… she had been happy.

Allison's eyes fell upon her sign language book and her mood immediately brightened. Sam should have arrived last night. She was home for the weekend, for the shower. The blonde couldn't wait to surprise her future stepsister with her increased proficiency in sign language. She'd used most of the money from work to pay for a class at the community college.

Susan dropped her daughter off at Beauregard's house a few hours later. The older woman had to swing by the mall to buy a new dress and her daughter would just be a drag. She just couldn't understand why Allison didn't like to shop. Honestly!

Sam stretched and began her warm-up exercises in the basement. Several vertebrate in her back popped and twisted as she got ready for her exercise routine. She liked to exercise on a regular basis regardless of whether or not she was at military school. As her muscles creaked and groaned, she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Not bad. She was slim and well-toned but not muscle bound like some people. Each muscle moved in liquid form as she lifted the weights. As the athletic young woman pumped iron effortlessly, she caught sight of a sudden movement in the mirror and groaned. It was the motor mouth. She gently placed the weights back in their racks and stood to greet her unwanted visitor.

Allison was enjoying Sam's workout in the basement, appreciating the intensity on her face, the way her muscles rippled beneath her workout pants, and the tightness of the tank top.

Sam jerked her head and furrowed her eyebrows in a silent demand for an explanation of the blonde's intrusion. The wedding shower didn't start for another hour.

Allison's smile broadened into an ear to ear grin as she tapped her watch. She skipped up to her future stepsister and hugged her quickly. The blonde suddenly held her nose and waved the air about her. Looking up into blue eyes, she chided their owner. "Phew. You need a shower."

Sam half-smiled. Very funny.

A bit too cheerfully for Sam, Allison whipped out a pre-written note. "You better get ready for the wedding shower. It's going to be soooo much fun! I just adore celebrations of love and joy and happiness. What did you get for the shower? Gosh. I hope we didn't get matching presents. That'll be so embarrassing. Aren't you looking forward to this? And we don't have to write as much because I'm taking a sign language class at the community college. Of course, it's only been a few weeks so I'm no expert which is why I wrote a note." Allison's smile disappeared when she realized she was the recipient of a look that could kill.

Sam sighed and ground her teeth. She hated going to social functions, especially with people she didn't know and for someone she didn't like. What's more, everybody would be hearing and she would be as out of place as a penguin in the Sahara Desert. The shower was going to be a blast.

Slowly, she signed to her green-eyed companion. "The shower isn't for another hour."

Allison gasped. "Don't you need at least 45 minutes to get ready?"

The dark-haired girl chuckled, mentally grading the blonde's signing. She had indeed improved. Sam held up five fingers and responded. "No. I'll just take five minutes. All I need to do is toss some on some jeans."

Allison's face paled with shock and chagrin. "Jeans?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "They're clean. Don't worry."

"It's not that. It's just that…you should be wearing a dress. Everyone else will be. Ohh, can I put your makeup on for you?"

This response earned the enthusiastic blonde a glare from Sam. "I'm not a conformist. Nobody tells me what to do. I think for myself and you should too. Meet me at Dino in half an hour." Annoyed, Sam took the stairs three at a time.

Allison sighed. Sam's comment had hurt. The blonde had brought a dress to wear but she didn't like it. It wasn't her type-of course, her mother had picked it out, just for the shower.

She trudged upstairs to the guest bedroom, which would be hers in a few weeks. The dark-haired girl was right. She had to stand up for herself. Allison studied her reflection in the full-length mirror. She was wearing a white blouse with ruffles and black dress pants with black clogs. Nervously, she glanced at the dress her mother had handpicked and reasoned that Susan wouldn't bawl her out in front of other people. Maybe she'd even forget about it by the time they got home from the shower.

Sam hopped into her Dino, noting that Allison wasn't around. What'd she expected? The green-eyed girl probably had to put on a ton of makeup and perfume. Sam herself had settled on a deep silk blue shirt, a pair of khakis, and nice sturdy boots. She turned the music to full volume and popped in a CD, resting against the seat, closing her eyes and humming along to the music's vibrations.

A few minutes later, Sam felt the door close and pried an eye open. The blonde hadn't changed her clothes. No dress.

Sam did a double take. "You need more time or what?"

Allison blushed and covered her face with her hands. "I knew it! I look horrible!"

The driver harrumphed and reached for her companion's arm before she could flee in tears. "You look wonderful but I bet you wish you looked as good as I do. I just thought you were gonna wear a dress. Get in. We aren't going anywhere if you don't get your ass in here."

"Do you mean it?"

The dark-haired girl sighed. "Yes." She pulled out of the driveway before Allison even had the door closed. After Allison slammed it shut and hastily put on her seat belt, she turned to face Sam at the stoplight.

"Do you like my mother? I know there was that one day with her, but generally?"

Sam decided to be diplomatic and get out in one piece. If she criticized Susan then Allison would get upset and yak her to death defending Susan. On the other hand, Sam didn't like to lie. "It doesn't matter. She makes my father happy and that's what counts." Sam maintained a neutral expression.

Allison noticed the vague answer and persisted. "Tell me what you think of her."

Sam decided that evasive tactics were in order. "What's Allen up to today?" Sam knew that Allison could and would talk the ear off anyone about her little brother.

Allison bounced slightly and a grin appeared instantly. "Your dad's taking him to the batting cage. That's sweet. Maybe Allen will be able to play T-ball this year. He doesn't have the best coordination but he's smart and he loves to play." Allison droned on, both on paper and in broken sign as Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Disaster averted.

The blonde guided Sam to the small tract house that belonged to Feather, Susan's best friend. Sam parked haphazardly and cut the engine. She hopped out and headed towards the hostess's house. Might as well get it over with.

Sam stopped in her tracks when she realized that the motor mouth hadn't gotten out of Dino. Shit, the door handle must be broken again. Sam doubled back, cursing the handle for breaking once again.

Allison took several deep breaths as she stared at Feather's house, clutching the armrest until her knuckles were white. She was suddenly unsure about her decision concerning her outfit and a feeling of dread swept across her as Sam abruptly opened the door. Flashbacks of her mother bawling her out many a time for an unsatisfactory outfit flooded into her brain.

Sam opened the passenger side door without a problem. The handle wasn't broken after all. "Hey." She reached for the blonde's shoulder. "What's wrong?" She realized that for the first time since she'd met the gabster, Allison was terrified. The look on her face didn't even compare to the night when Mickey had tried to force himself on her.

Allison turned to her future stepsister. "I think I made a mistake. Maybe I should go back home and change. I don't want to upset my mother too much. This is her day after all." She looked at Sam apprehensively.

Her older companion groaned. "I'm wearing pants too. And you have on makeup and your hair is fixed up all fancy-like. You aren't alone in this. Besides, you're much better dressed than I am and I am not driving all the way back just so you can change. Come on out and make tracks."

Allison mustered a weak smile and nodded. "Sure. After you."

The duo, the last to arrive, was greeted by a smiling hostess whom Allison introduced as Feather Light. With chagrin, the blonde noticed that the gaggle of all the 20-odd women were dressed up. No one except for Allison and her future stepsister were donned in pants.

Feather took her guests' coats and gifts and ushered them into the living room. Susan was talking up a storm with a few friends and Allison steeled herself to meet her mother's gaze.

The older woman looked up as her daughter and that awful Samantha entered the room, both wearing inappropriate clothing. What had been a developing smile quickly froze into barely concealed anger.

Controlling her true feelings, Susan pranced over to her daughter and gave her a quick peck on the cheek, whispering in her ear: "You better have a damn good fucking excuse for this tragedy." Then she smiled insincerely again as she gave Samantha a tight, "aren't we so close?" hug. "How nice to see you again!"

Susan, ever the social butterfly, fluttered off, not wanting to be around Allison. That girl just made her mad and madder. Honestly, teenagers nowadays. Samantha was turning out to be a horrible influence on her already corrupted daughter.

Sam nodded in Susan's direction. "What did she say?"

Allison's green eyes were wide. She had never heard her mother curse like that, save one occasion she would definitely never forget, the day four years ago when Susan learned she'd have another mouth to feed. Right now, all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and cry.

"Nothing," the blonde snapped, and walked off to socialize, leaving Sam to her own devices. This was all her fault. She never should have listened to Sam.

Interesting. Sam watched Allison leave, her curiosity piqued. In the short time that they had known each other, Allison had been nothing but sweetness, and now this. What had Susan said? Something about the clothes? Sam rolled her eyes. Of course Allison would take one little disparaging comment personally. Oh well, her problem. The chicken wings were beckoning.

The bride's presents didn't stem her boiling anger at her daughter and her future stepdaughter. Allison had saved up a week's salary from work to buy her mother and Barry a throw blanket that would match the Christmas tree ornament. It read: Barry and Susan, 2000." All the women exclaimed over the thoughtful, lovely gift but Susan barely glanced at it.

Sam's gift made matters worse. The Neanderthal's Guide to Making Marriage Work earned a round of laughter from the audience. "Your Samantha's a riot," said Susan's sister Jackie.

Feather said seriously: "I swear by those books. They are so easy to understand. Laws, I even taught myself how to paint by the numbers."

Susan just smiled grimly while her daughter calculated how much time Sam had left on this Earth. The redhead didn't need any help from Samantha to make her marriage work, but she made nice and laughed for nicety's sake. Neanderthal?

Sam kept her smile on all afternoon as the shower dragged on forever and ever, but finally, it was over. The blonde had been an entirely different person; she had made no effort to include the deaf girl in conversation and had ignored her completely. Her behavior just confirmed what Sam already suspected; the hearing girl was like the rest of them. At least she was riding home with her mother.

Sam said a quick good-bye to the ridiculous Feather before retreating in the back bedroom where the coats were, unaware of Susan's grating voice shrilling from the coatroom.

"I just can't stand lookin' at you no more. Look at you!" Susan grabbed Allison's shirt. "What is this trashy shit? Where's that dress?"

Allison swallowed. "Momma-"

"Do you know how my friends were looking at me? Like I'm white trash! Like I can't provide for my daughter!" Susan's face was red with rage. "Just because you're white trash slut doesn't mean people have to think I am too! Honestly!" Spittle flew out of Susan's gums as Sam twisted the doorknob and opened the door, the unfolding scene ready to reach a climax.

The wild look in Susan's gray eyes frightened her daughter. Usually, she was hard and calculating but she was more dangerous when she was in an emotional state. That was one reason why Allison was genuinely happy for her mother and Barry. She knew by the expression in her mother's eyes when she gazed at Barry that she truly loved him.

The redhead drew back, raising her hand to wallop Allison on the back. Susan was smart-she wouldn't leave any visible bruises. Allison closed her eyes resignedly, bracing herself for a blow that never came.

She ventured a look after a few moments of silence. Sam, with a hard, cold, glare at her future stepmother, grasped her upper wrist. The redhead's eyes nearly popped out but she recovered quickly.

"Darling Samantha!" she chirped. "I'm glad you came to say ta-ta."

Sam growled slowly, menacingly, her cat-like eyes glowering. Allison remembered the murderous look, from that night with Mickey. Visions of her mother slumped on the floor in a pool of blood and teeth shot through Allison like bullets. She couldn't let the blue-eyed girl touch her mother.

The dark-haired young woman kept Susan's wrist tightly clenched in her hand. Slowly, clearly, she pronounced: "Fuck off."

"What?" Susan put on a befuddled act. "I would never hurt my daughter."

"Apologize," mouthed the deaf girl.

That was one thing Susan could not do. She had done nothing wrong. A low sound emanated out of Susan's throat as she stomped on Sam's foot, drawing nary a reaction from the taller woman.

"There you are!" cried Feather as she joined the scene, prancing over to the blissful bride and waving her hands all over the room. "Susan, you forgot to open two gifts. Laws, they got behind the couch somehow. Come, darlings! Jackie just broke out some more punch."

The deaf girl cast Susan's wrist aside. Feather led her best friend out of the room, but not before the redhead managed to get off a scowl to both Allison and Sam. The dark-haired girl returned the gesture with an unreadable expression.

She closed the door once the two women had exited. "You ok?"

Allison was still in shock by the sudden turn of events and by the fact that again, Sam had stood up to her mother and gotten away with it… for now, anyway.

Embarrassment began to seep into Allison. "You didn't have to do that. But thanks." She shrugged off the incident but Sam was having none of it.

"Is hitting her children a habit of Susan's?" Sam asked steadily, noting that Allison would not meet her eyes.

She clasped her hands together in self-comfort. "No. She was just very… emotional today. She'll have forgotten about it in five minutes." The green-eyed girl finally looked into Sam's face and smiled reassuringly.

Sam nodded slowly. She didn't believe one word. "Let's join the guys at the batting cage."

"Thanks for the offer but I'm going to stay. Maybe I'll see you before you go back to JMA. Certainly for the wedding and spring break!" She smiled nonchalantly, wanting to go with Sam but knowing that would infuriate Susan even more. She was already in enough hell and dreaded going home with her mother.

The dark-haired girl shrugged, keeping her face even and neutral although all she wanted to do was whisk Allison out of the house. "Your funeral. Later." It wasn't her place to interfere with Allison's life. She certainly would not want anyone nosing around in her own life, but she had some thinking to do. Should she tell Barry about this new side of Susan?

Allison read Sam's mind. "Please don't tell your father. Momma's not like this at all. Like I said, she just-"

"Fine. Later." Sam patted her younger companion on the shoulder and grabbed her coat.

Allison stood for a few minutes after Sam had left, replaying the act of bravery again and again in her mind. As she picked up her glass of diet soda, she realized her hands were still shaking. She'd never seen her mother this furious in at least a year. Even the shopping incident didn't compare. Maybe she should have gone with Sam. Her future stepsister was fun to hang out with once she dropped the tough act. Allison walked out of the room quickly, hoping she could still catch her dark-haired friend.

Susan cornered her daughter. "Allison, look at this lovely potholder that Juanne made for me and Beauregard!" The wary expression in Susan's eyes warned Allison that she was to remain silent and be a good little girl. Her daughter wasn't going anywhere.

Sam found herself at her aunt's house. Julia met her halfway down the driveway as she had been letting the dog out. "Sam! What a nice surprise! I didn't know you were in town."

Sam hugged her and chuckled. "Always around to bother you."

Julia nodded. "What's on your mind? You're troubled. Come on in. Uncle Julio just baked some cookies and you know how heavenly they are." She grabbed her niece's hand and led her inside.

"Hey!" Julio boomed from the couch. "Wanna watch the ball game?" he pantomimed, pointing to the television. He had a soft spot for Sam.

Sam hugged him lightly and shook her head.

Julia teased, "She's just here for the cookies."

The dark-haired girl was glad she had gone to her aunt's. Aunt Julia was the only person she could really confide in, except about a few untouchable issues like her own sexuality. Her friends didn't exactly fit that mold, although Paul knew and was cool with it. Julia and Sam sat down at the kitchen table, munching on cookies.

"It's about your father and Susan, isn't it?" Julia prodded. Extracting information from her niece was like getting information from the government. Julia, after years of experience, knew the best way to deal with Sam. Even so, Sam had not opened herself up fully to Julia. When Norene had died, for the only time in her life, Sam had cried on her aunt's shoulder. Julia hoped that one day Sam would find someone with whom she could be completely herself.

"Yes," Sam answered. "Something happened today and I'm more sure than ever that Susan is wrong for my father."

Julia nodded supportively. Best to let Sam proceed at her own pace.

"Susan is overbearing and dominating. She treats my father and her kids like children." Sam cringed as she realized how petty her words sounded.

Julia furrowed her eyebrows. Sam was holding back. "What happened?"

"I barely stopped Susan from slapping Allison today just because Susan didn't like her clothes. What kind of woman is my father marrying?" Sam shook her head. "He's blind to the real Susan."

"Was this hitting a one time thing? What did Allison say?" Julia asked, raising her teacup.

Sam sighed. "Apparently a one time thing. Who knows?"

"It probably was just a mistake. Give her the benefit of the doubt. She makes your father deliriously happy," Julia advised, knowing Sam wouldn't take to her words well. She peered at her niece, who was simultaneously studying the tablecloth. She reached over to cover Sam's hand with her own smaller hand.

The deaf girl looked at her aunt. "Only time will tell."

Mother and daughter entered their apartment and turned the lights on. Allen was still with Barry and would probably spend the night with him. Allison held her breath unconsciously, hoping that her mother wouldn't go off the deep end. She hung up her coat in silence wondering what was going to happen next.

Susan swallowed several times as she hummed around the apartment putting things up and tidying. She whistled nonchalantly, the calm before the storm. Allison slipped away to her bedroom.

The older woman followed and grabbed the blonde, her nails digging into Allison's fair skin.

She spun to face her mother. "Momma!" she yelped in pain.

"Well. Well. It was a nice shower wasn't it? Feather sure put a lot of effort into it. You had to go and ruin it with your and Samantha's inconsideration! You are so selfish, not thinking of other people and their happiness. You single-handedly ruined my day, you little cunt. You and your dyke friend. You want people to think you're a lesbian? Dressed like that, they will! Why do you have to ruin every single relationship I have? Wasn't Bob enough?"

Allison's face paled at the mention of Bob and she spurted out a rehearsed line. "My dress had a stain. I wore the next best thing…" This defense was not satisfactory for Susan. Nothing her daughter could ever say would appease her. Susan had spent hours at the store making damn sure the dress was perfect when she purchased it. Allison just had to go ahead and stain it!

"You could have come home and picked one of your other dresses. Goodness knows you have plenty! Honestly!" Susan grabbed some clothes out of the closet and threw them on the floor, her face flooded with rage, her eyes popping out, her nose flaring up.

"I didn't want to impose on Sam and make her drive all the way here and be late to the shower." Allison pleaded with Susan as she spat on her daughter.

"Did you even try? She talked you into it didn't she? Samantha darling's going to pay for this. How dare she tell me how to raise my own daughter!"

"Sam was only trying to help. She misunderstood what was going on, that's all."

Susan snorted. "The bitch better not tell Beauregard what 'happened'," Susan yelled, punctuating the air with her hands, "or I'm going to hold you responsible. I know Beauregard won't fall for this. He knows what a good woman I am and he loves me truly. Just try to understand the concept of love. I know that's hard for you, cunt. You just better not get in the way; either you or that daughter of his."

Susan was about to slap her daughter when she saw a silvery foil package on the dresser. Her face contorted into rage as she realized it was a condom package. "Slut! Whore!" She slapped Allison soundly across the face. "Who's the fucking condom for? Beauregard? Not this time! I see you've wised up after last time, you harlot!"

"What are you talking about, momma?" Allison cowered in a corner as her mother insanely held up the package in front of her green eyes. She had never seen that condom before in her life.

"This is what I'm talkin' about, you ho! Don't you sass me!" The last words were spit out through clenched teeth.

The older woman reared back then with a thud, body slammed her daughter against the wall, causing the slight young woman to fall to the floor. Susan left her daughter sobbing on the floor. "For both you and Samantha. Share with her if you like."

Entry One Excerpt: Diary of Michael Ratzlaff

WELL, WELL. THE DYKE'S BACK AT MIL SCHOOL NOW, PIXIE'S ALL MINE. HEH… SHE'LL BE GLADDER TO SEE ME THAN I AM TO SEE HER! SNUCK IN HER ROOM TODAY, IT WAS ALL HER. SO DAMN GENTLE, FRAGILE, SOFT, FLOWERY. I COULDA SMELL HER IN THE AIR, HER PRESENCE WRAPPED AROUND ME LOVINGLY AS SHE LAID ME DOWN ON HER SOFT BED. SPENT A COUPLA HOURS JUST SLEEPING AND ENJOYING HER SOFT TOUCH. WHEN MY LOVE WOUNDS HEAL, ILL GO SEE HER AND WOO HER (IF SHE DON'T COME TO ME FIRST!) SHE KNOWS OUR PATH. SHE WANTS ME TO HAVE SOME OF HER USED UNDERWEAR AND A PICTURE SO I TOOK 'EM. HER PANTIES HAD THAT SPECIAL SCENT MADE JUST FOR ME. I LEFT HER A LITTLE MOMENTO OF ME… TO LET HER KNOW SOME LITTLE CLAP AINT GONNA STOP US.

CONTINUED IN PART SIX.

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