DISCLAIMER: "Bionic Woman," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of NBC-Universal and Jerry Eick. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Bionic Woman," NBC, or any representatives of the actors.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: So much for this being a one off… (It's all your fault, Ralst! Really, somehow it must be.) Most of the smut came from conversations with a friend whom I flirt with outrageously. This whole damn thing is really just a bunch of fantasies strung together with a loose plot at best. But Ruth and Jamie have earned a load of raunchy smut from me, so I was happy to oblige. Several fantasies of these two crack me up, particularly Jamie's thing with disheveled Ruth. Though it makes perfect sense when you think about how… together Ruth always is. People with lovers like that love to get them sloppy and sexy. Wouldn't you? When the TPTB at NBC used that blue 1972 GTO on episode 'Paradise Lost' for all of five odd minutes of screen time, bet nobody thought it would become such fetish material, eh? The weird thing is, I'm so NOT a car person. Never know it by reading this saga though! (It's your fault, Kitten. Thank you.) After literally HOURS of research, trying to narrow down automotive industry terminology that I know NOTHING about… I finally figured out what the piece of shop equipment I needed is. *heavy sigh* It's called a 'chassis dynamometer'. It's a set of big metal rollers that a car's drive tires are parked on and the vehicle is securely strapped into position. The engine is run and the rollers gauge how fast the wheels start and stop. Wikipedia here if you're really bored. (All that work… I hope you people appreciate my attention to detail! I even called an old buddy who's a classic car nut to verify that a GTO would be rear-wheel driven. The things I do for love…) Special thanks to Ardvari for her inspirations and everyone who cheers these two on. See? It's working!
SEQUEL: To In Dreams, Dreams of Tomorrow and Bad Dreams.
ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.

Living the Dream
By Shatterpath



"You've wanted a vacation anyway," Jonas says flatly, his expression characteristically never twitching. "From what I've been told, every hip community needs a gay couple. You'll be great."

For a moment I stare impassively at this man who I've played right hand to for many years, searching for the subtle glints of emotion that are so difficult to read. Then I see it, the faintest sparkle of humor in his dark eyes.

"You're enjoying this."

My dry accusation actually makes his serious mouth twitch. Without changing my own expression, I deliver my final shot before we really get down to business.


Jonas actually huffs in amusement.



This is new.

When I was drafted into this strange life, I knew it would read like a movie at times, but this is threatening to make me crack up slightly hysterically.

Not a good way to make an impression on the neighbors.

Ruth is directing the moving men with body language far tenser than her even voice indicates. It's so weird to see her dressed like this, blue jeans and a pink blouse with her normally severe haircut loose around her face. I must look like a lost college student in my baggy sweater and khakis.

Several locals have wandered past with dogs and kids or in small groups, obviously curious. How long do I let them wonder about the two new women who have moved into their midst? I don't want any doubt to our relationship. Nor do I relish being shunned by suburbia.

But my first priority is my partner. And, frankly, I'm tired of these idiots in coveralls ogling one or both of us. So, I drop the box unceremoniously back into the newly repainted GTO and sneak up behind Ruth.



The familiar arms around my waist startle me a bit. The damn bionic ear still seems to have a mind of its own and I have to keep conscious control over it. Even I can't be completely focused all the time.

"Hey baby," she purrs against that new ear where she's very aware of the hotspot that has not faded. "You okay?"

The rush of hormones makes my eyes flutter shut and I place my hands over her encircling arms. Better the curious neighbors catch us cuddling now and stop wondering what exactly we're about. Turning my head, I press my nose to her temple and exhale my nervousness into her hair. For a long moment I stay like this, selfishly leaving Jamie to face the first round of odd looks. These guys are on the job, but half of them are locals too. Even the two undercover Burkett guys I bet are startled a bit.

Jamie and I have made no secret of our relationship, but it's still odd to some of them. When I look around again, after kissing Jamie's ear, my guys look away, smothering smirks. Jae in particular is amused. He's posing as our buddy from the big city as this will enable him to visit whenever he pleases.

That makes all of us feel better.



We've been busting ass for more than twelve hours and I'm exhausted. Tough as I might be, this has tapped me out. This town is almost creepy in its unrelenting normalcy. Several of the neighbors even introduced themselves to us, determined to be friendly. Nothing at all seems amiss.

Various operatives have been passing through this town in different disguises for months now. Dangerous illegal contraband moves through here and no one can figure out how. Jonas is banking that the bionics are immune to whatever is going on here.

Ruth startles me from my near-doze when she appears in the hallway leading back to the bedrooms. "You look dead," she comments wryly and strides over to straddle my lap, hands combing my long hair. "Come break in the shower with me and then I'll see if I can get the kinks out."

"Not all of the kinks I hope," I drawl wryly and she chuckles before kissing me lightly. Lazily, I drape my arms around her and nibble at her mouth, asking for more.



Lazy with hard work and sound sleep, my muscles stretch in the warm sunlight, my hand slithering over Jamie's familiar body beside me. She'd amused me greatly last night, whining about being tired while I still had a few flagging energy reserves. Even now I hold her compliment close to my heart.

"Don't you even complain about being old, you brat," she'd scowled at me petulantly. "Fifty million dollars of sci-fi body hardware and well into the double digits younger than you and I still can't keep up."

Not a classic comment from one lover to another, but I know that she meant it. The shower had been a lazy affair, much kissing and caressing, with me able to indulge in soaping her lovely skin and tending to her long mane.

A low moan and the shift of Jamie's sleeping body is a beacon I don't even try to resist, rolling to cuddle our lower halves close and trailing a friendly hand over her torso and arm.



Go figure that not only can the woman outlast me; she's awake before I am too. Not that I'm complaining about her loving touch over my bare skin. Particularly when she notes the subtle change that signals my wakefulness and her caresses become more deliberate.

"Good morning," Ruth purrs as I stretch and roll onto my back in one motion, yawning expressively before smiling. I wrap both arms around her, raising my left leg so that she can snuggle her pelvis against mine.

"Good morning," I echo, wallowing in the brush of her hand over my curves. "I like these lazy mornings with you."

"Me too. Now, you were tired but anxious last night," Ruth teases her breath and touch over my skin and my hormones start singing. "Still feeling anxious?"

My responses to her have ranged over a spectrum that amazes me. Every emotion has rocked my body and soul from anger to hot to curious to slow to tender. Right now, I just want her desperately and whine for her mercy.

Chuckling warmly, Ruth finds that spot where neck meets shoulder, worrying at my flesh with lips and teeth while her talented fingers get busy at softer and more vulnerable spots that make me moan and cling to her.

The doorbell is not a welcome sound.



It's been a long few days in Raleigh, Colorado. The community has made a mostly concerted effort to welcome us both, despite our being female and the obvious age gap between us. After all, we're big city folk and that gives us license to be so very different. Jamie's already in with some of the locals in one of the three restaurants in town and I've scored a job that both amuses me and gives me a window to a life I could have led.

Filthy from the elbows down, wrapped in a ragged set of coveralls that seem to be covered in decades of grease and dirt, my hair beneath an incongruously clean and new baseball cap. The wrench is heavy and sticky with grime, but finally does its job and the stubborn nut gives up the fight with a pop.

Mike is the hardened old veteran that owns the only real mechanic shop in town. The condition of my beloved muscle car and the honest brag that I keep it up myself got me here. While Mike and his boys work on the modern cars with their intricate computer systems and fancy hardware, I get to indulge in my love of the simple elegance of the cars of yore. There are six of them in various states of repair in one corner of the sprawling lot and I'm pretty much left to my own devices.



When I met Ruth, I had no way of knowing that we'd end up lovers. I once didn't see any of the things that make her so complicated and fascinating. Her control and focus and dedication, wrapped up in a cool, enticing package. She is always elegant, always meticulous and well-dressed and in command of a situation.

Well, almost always, I remind myself with a naughty smile, remembering our varied love life that has been completely subverted by the locals determined to fit us into their lives. I love that they want to include us, but I really miss privacy with my lover.

Watching Ruth, I hate to disturb her, even as my hormones simmer urgently. Ever since that morning where I was left hanging at the edge of orgasm by that damn doorbell, I've wanted to jump her. But we're always tired and our schedules have been off. Mostly this is the fault of my working crazy early shifts at the bakery where I've scored a job and Ruth putting in long hours with the grease monkeys.

She looks positively calm and delighted in what she's doing; completely different than that woman I normally work with. She's filthy and sweaty and humming happily to herself. God, I need her so bad…



"Hey sexy," Jamie purrs from nearby, startling me into looking around. She's perched herself on the radiator of the beat up Charger, smiling seductively. She looks so different dressed like this, in a dark blue 60s retro waitress uniform, hair pulled into a careful bun.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise," I grin, hoping the guys aren't paying too much attention to me or my visitor. I have no desire to stand out among them more than my age and gender does already. Not that every male and a chunk of the women haven't taken notice of Jamie and her good looks and easy charm. Just inches from her body, an imperiously raised hand stops me in my tracks.

"Give me a kiss, but don't touch me, grease monkey," she wrinkles her nose at me and I can't stop the laughter that bubbles up from deep in my chest.

"God, we're like some cliché sixties couple, aren't we?"

"Shut up, Ruth, and kiss me."

With no body contact except our mouths, I feel the urgency in Jamie, enhanced by the low murmurs of need in her throat. "So help me," she growls against my lips, "if you don't come home early tonight and fuck me, I'm going to implode or possibly throttle someone. I like these people, but I need some alone time with you."



Ruth is thrilled and turned on by my rough plea, my voice deep and harsh with the itch that I need her to scratch. Those mercurial eyes, like a barometer of her mood, turn a hot yellow and my body's sexual reaction is not at all feigned. That look makes me crazy, all the more so because she can't hide it or stop it.

The sharp crack of a knuckle startles me, making me realize that I've automatically tuned all my senses to her, bionic and original. Forcing my eyes down, I see that her fingers are twisted into a filthy rag hard enough to whiten her flesh in places. Not to mention the clinging droplets of sweat on her throat and clavicles, visible in the 'v' of the coveralls and above the tank top.

"I gotta go," squeaks out past my tight throat and I steal a quick kiss before practically running away. At the open gate, I dare to glance back.

Ruth looks bewildered and completely smug at my behavior, which amuses and reassures me. Let her think I'm the better catch.

I have my own opinions.



It's easy for me to read Mike, despite his stony countenance, and his amusement is thick as I inform him that I'm leaving early to go home.

"Gotta keep the missus happy," he drawls with a small grin and I toss my comeback over my shoulder.

"You're just jealous."

"Naw. But the boys sure are."

Each of the three younger men is suddenly deeply involved in their tasks, unable to meet my eyes. At this moment, knowing the reception I'm in for, I can afford to be smug and magnanimous by simply walking away.

The GTO growls across town and into the garage of our house. Even though I scrubbed off at the yard, I repeat the process, including a wet, soapy rag over most of my torso before running the small towel under the water from the utility sink and getting the soap off. Without bothering with a bra, I yank on a clean tank top over my damp skin.



She's home.

The relief is a palpable thing and I automatically turn my attention inward, mentally tracing the lines of wires in my head to the recording device in my bionic eye. A wrenching blast of pain later and it's disabled so that I can have privacy with my lover.

The house is nearly spotless, having been the recipient of my anxious energy for several days now. Becca would be amused as hell to see me like this, so wound up that I'm forced to clean of all things. At the moment I'm out in the sunlight, only just starting to fade into evening. There are planting beds that I decided to take on for their few weeds and unpruned branches.

Before I can do more than note that I'm sweaty and dusted with soil, Ruth frames herself in the sliding glass doorway and I can feel the heat of her gaze from all the way over here.

Obviously, extreme horniness has eliminated any ability to be intelligent because all I can do is stand here and stare.



I know how intelligent this young woman is. After all, I profiled her long before I knew her first hand. It's a source of great amusement to me that she has been reduced to such idiocy by her hormones. If she's trying to feed my ego in hopes of relief, it's working in spades and I aggressively stride over to wrap her up in a hug and kiss that makes both of us completely forget that we're in our backyard with neighbors all around.

Jamie allows me to prod her back beneath the cover of the small grove of pine trees in the corner of the main planting bed away from the pool. The 'whuff' that escapes her as I back her up against the largest trunk is weak around her elevated breathing.

"Grab that branch," I growl hotly, grinding her pelvis into mine until she whimpers. There's no need to ask which hand I mean and the bionic right is immediately anchored to the heavy wood. No need to ask for trouble during this quickie. Roughly yanking up her t-shirt, I bite and suckle at her erect nipples through the fabric of her sports bra, skimming my hands over her slender frame. Already Jamie's hips rock against mine and I worm a hand down her shorts to find her wet and welcoming.



The woman is psychic, I swear she is.

Rough and demanding, she has me pinned up against the big pine, her hand down my shorts, fingers deep and fulfilling. We'll have time later for sweet and lingering. Right now, this is exactly what I need.

Carefully gathering up a mouthful of the strap on her shirt, I clench my teeth tight, trying to muffle the grunts of lust tickling my throat. With her thigh against her hand, Ruth pistons into the grip of my sex, breathing like a steam engine against my ear. All I can do is take hold of the shorter lengths of hair at her nape and hang on for dear life.

It bears down on me like a freight train I can't outrace, no matter how fast I can run now. Every muscle tenses, my heels digging hard into the soft earth to make sure that I don't lose complete control. The branch above my head creaks in protest to my bionic hand damaging its sturdy tissues.

"Come for me," Ruth breathes and the rush comes over me blinding and fast.



Pleasantly exhausted by the marathon session that started in the backyard, I'm now sprawled on our bed, air drying from the second shower of the night. The lethargy is complete, leaving me pretty well boneless from crown to toes. Jamie is preening in front of the bathroom mirror, just visible to my grateful eye.

"So, I got a package today," she announces suddenly and saunters back into the room with her loose-limbed stride.


"It's one of the reasons I was so worked up this afternoon."

Now I'm curious and cup my hands behind my head to smile cockily at her. "Do tell."

With frisky, youthful energy, Jamie shakes the bed jumping on and straddling my hips. Snuggling into my slightly sturdier frame, she indulges the sensation of our naked skins together. After a moment she props herself on both elbows, damp hair trailing over my chest and regards me with a sweet expression. "You know I love what you do to me, right?"



This is going to be a strange conversation and I really hope that the buzz of satisfaction has softened Ruth up.

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she smiles and the expression reaches deep into her eyes, nearly green with relaxed satisfaction. "You have something in mind we haven't tried?"

She's a freakin' mind reader, I swear she is. "Yeah. I had an idea, but I don't want you to think I'm being weird or I'm lacking with you or anything."

With a surprised grunt, I'm flat on my back with her sprawled over me. "You're babbling, Jamie. Spit it out."

"I ordered a sex toy."

Yep, that was my voice that blurted that out and embarrassed heat is rushing up my torso to my cheeks. For a moment Ruth is startled, before laughing openly. Almost immediately, she is kissing me, still chuckling low in her chest. "Is that what's been bothering you?"



This girl-woman of mine is a crack up sometimes. I can only wonder if it's been her own embarrassment or the fear of telling me that's making her so flushed. No point in missing the opportunity to stew in her own juices a bit, so I nip and suckle at her neck a bit. Once she's getting into it, I prop myself up on my elbows to eye her with some warped version of my 'work face' that makes her chortle.

"So, are you going to share with the rest of the class? Or shall I just extrapolate on my own?"

Still chuckling, Jamie once again asserts her strength and I'm on my back once more. "You sure?"

Despite her amusement, she's unsure, I can tell. So I give her an askance look and question, "It's not something weird is it?" The dark tresses shake negative. "Well, that's good, can't have anything too bizarre in our bed. After all, we're so amazingly normal and all."

The snappy patter succeeds and Jamie smiles, her nerves abating and I arch up to kiss her quickly.

"Whatever doubts about us I once harbored," my voice is very serious, even to my own ears. "You have eliminated them. Bring out your toy, pretty girl, and let's see more of what turns you on."



My Ruth is an eloquent woman, but generally one of few words. When she does spell things out for me, I keep the words close to my heart. Particularly like this, the lover speaking so sweetly to me. She makes me feel special and normal and adored, things that so many take for granted.

So, I forgo thought for long moments, once more losing myself in her talented kisses. Despite the half dozen times we've scored the brass ring this night and the early morning hour, once more our breathing deepens, hands wandering heavy and arousing.

"Sure you're up for this, old lady?" I tease, mouths still brushing and jump and squeak when she swats me stingingly across the ass.

"You just bring it on, pup."

Still nervous, but getting more excited now, I lunge over to gather up the clean towel where the toy has been hiding and hand it over.



It's an odd looking thing, a phallic sculpture in electric purple silicone. Taking it from her hands, I eyeball the stylized shape of the thing and can't help but think that some designer somewhere had way too much fun with their CAD programs. The longer arm is obviously phallic, but the other is really interesting. It thickens, then narrows drastically, bends at a ninety-odd degree angle and flares into a fat, bean-shaped bulb.
(Author's note: Curious? Go check out said toy! http://www.goodvibes.com/Item--i-13BA16--m-80 Isn't it pretty?)

Then Jamie's hair is tickling over my chest and I feel her mouth on my midriff, suckling seductively. "Take your time," she purrs throatily against my flesh, tickling pleasantly and I have to chuckle. "I saw it on a website and couldn't pass it up."

"You've gone shopping?" I can't help but tease, even as I set the toy aside and bury my fingers in her lustrous hair to rub her scalp.

"Your hands are always busy when you're fucking me," she confesses baldly, blue eyes blazing as she stares up my torso. "I thought this might be a nice twist."

Twitching my knees further apart to accommodate her body, I swear I'm more limber now than I was when I was her age; I grin and tweak her lower lip. "Relax, pretty girl. I'm convinced. I'm yours to do with as you please."



The relationship doesn't have to be a meeting of equals. Honestly, I'm generally happy to be somewhat subservient to this powerful personality. That Ruth treats me as an equal, unless she has to occasionally slap me down at work, but that's different, makes me feel amazing.

Tickling at that soft, warm spot between Ruth's thighs that I've grown to love, I'm reassured that she's not yanking my chain. Breath catching, she tightens her grip in my hair and her eyelashes flutter. Excellent!

Climbing back up Ruth's body, I leave my tickling hand where it is and once more kiss her thoroughly. "So, I have you curious, huh?" I tease conversationally and the yellowed eyes glower with mock seriousness, making me chortle. Stroking deeper, I have her now, moaning softly, her body starting to writhe. "Grab it," I demand, getting distractedly aroused myself now. "And the little tube of lube with it."

"Okay," she grunts breathlessly and I'm damn glad once again that I'm not working later today!



With aggressive teeth, Jamie tears the tip of the fat little packet that I found in the folds of the towel, squeezing a dollop of the clear gel onto the fingertips she pulls away from my body. It takes a real effort not to whine at the loss of her touch, but the look in her eye is good enough for the moment.

The gel is rubbed to the bulbous end of the toy, still clenched in my hand, and I'm starting to confirm how this is going to work. Tugging on my hand, Jamie breathes hot and fast against my mouth, "Give a girl a hand?"

It's an easy fit, sliding inside, the fat base of the phallic end nestling into my clitoris. Experimentally, I clench internal muscles to get the feel of it. "Your turn," I groan as the toy jostles internally at Jamie's fumbling. "Come on already!"

"Gimmie a second!" She growls and suddenly shifts away enough that I can see what she's doing.



There is the oddest expression on Ruth's face as I run my lube-sloppy hand over the electric purple phallus jutting up from the curly gold pubes. I'm looking forward to this more and more, particularly with that stark, hungry look on my lover's face. Huffing with excitement, I sit up on my knees and trail my slick fingers through the dark curls at my groin in preparation.

There's a wordless sound of lust as I toss a leg over her hips and aim the new toy right where I need it. My long, stuttered groan that echoes up from deep inside is not feigned as the silicone shaft sinks deep.

"Oh Ruth…"

Even as I shiver from the long-forgotten sensation of this deeper penetration, I feel the blissful slide of Ruth's hands over the insides of my thighs and over my tense abdomen.



She is impossibly sexy, muscles tense, head back, that long, low note of desire escaping her on a shuddering breath. If I might have been harboring issues over her want for the false Johnson between us, her sincere reaction alleviates any worry.

For the moment I am content to let Jamie set the pace. The mass of the bed and my strong pelvis should protect me if she loses focus over the legs momentarily and she's trained herself to keep that right hand clenched into the bedding and mattress. These memory foam things have proven to be remarkably durable.

Muscles real and replaced flex to shift Jamie's body on the phallus and I'm torn between the sensations in my own body and watching her. Moaning my name, she arches over me, dark hair trailing and tickling, breath hot over my chin. Taking advantage of the freedom of my hands, I stroke her ribs and hips, skittering up to find those hard nipples I love to tease.



I'm unspeakably gratified that Ruth is into the game. The toy serves only two purposes and she's already got one down, strong, sensitive hands stroking my skin. The second is simple depth. The woman's got magic hands, but there's been an itch we just haven't been able to scratch. What I really want is her whole hand…

Just the thought is enough to bring on climax, the roar rushing up my nerves and turning my senses to static.

Still holding Ruth and the toy hostage with my stronger body, I feel some of the tension is gone. Certainly not all of it, but Ruth is still tense too, so I'll catch my breath and find out what else this thing can do.

What I really want is her whole hand, but I don't trust myself to maintain control enough not to damage her irreparably. Maybe my smart lover can think of something.

Because the idea and the thrill aren't going away.



Exhausted and possibly a bit delirious, I'm still unable to sleep, even as morning is well underway. I haven't more than catnapped all night, I'm sore with lack of sleep and I've been completely fucked senseless. Since I'm not really on a schedule with the shop, I'm playing hooky today. Frankly, I'm quite certain that Mike would kick my ass if I showed up, since Jamie's visit yesterday left nothing to the imagination…

The light of the rising dawn caresses my young lover, revealing the quickly fading marks that I left dusky on her skin. She heals so impossibly fast, the anthracites repairing any damages, small or large. It's a reminder of what sets her apart from the rest of humanity.

Gingerly, I reach up to rub the nap of bristles that have grown in irregularly over the place where the bionic techs prodded through the cracks in my skull and replaced the biological mechanisms of my ruined ear. The locals have accepted the story of a car accident with appropriate levels of horrified sympathy. Except for Mike, who I suspect with some degree of consternation, knows more than he lets on. The roadmap of scars in my skin and skull are still sensitive almost to the point of pain, but Jamie has remembered with delightful frequency how that spot makes me weak in the knees. Her breath alone is a live wire to my libido, not to mention her tongue…



It's the familiar sound of Ruth's that wakes me before the press of her body to my back; an amorous, almost distressed huff of breath that is close to a moan. Like a mood ring to her libido, that sound is a dead ringer to her need. Never would have guessed calm and cool Doctor Truewell to be an insatiable tiger in bed, but she is exactly that. Guess there's some truth to the old adage of never trust the quiet ones.

Nuzzling into my scalp, Ruth breathes into my hair, her free arm snaking around my waist as she spoons to my back. So I reach back to stroke her head, paying close attention to that scarred patch and the patchwork quilt of the shell of her ear. We've discussed at length how the ears work, hers compared to mine. Despite my mixed feelings over Will, he certainly knew what the hell he was doing with the bionics he co-created. On the contrary, Ruth's ear is erratic and causes her annoyance. She confessed to me that first night as we cuddled back at home after the shooting that she uses my body's sounds to focus the thing.

There is great pleasure in knowing that I am something so visceral for her.



The summer is passing lazily.

I have grown to like this life. Quiet and comfortable without that constant edge of danger that my profession keeps me alert with. Jamie and me have made friends and gained a social foothold in the community, even though we still maintain as much distance as we can.

With varying levels of success.

At the moment, I'm happily ensconced in my favorite corner of the covered porch where I can enjoy the heat of the sunshine without scorching my fair skin. I get enough of that at the yard, thank you very much. I'm half-heartedly catching up with intel from Burkett on the laptop and nursing a mildly spiked lemonade. We've missed two smuggling shipments already and the failure irks me. The first was simply not having a clue of where to look, but the second might be attributed to our comfort levels. Jonas didn't flat out say it during our last conference call, but the rebuke was hidden in his tone.

Our time here will draw to a close sooner than either of us wants.



Ruth looks pensive and lost in thought. Damn, this is obviously a bad day for me to invite Beth and Chuck over to use the pool. My coworkers at the bakery are good people and I like the utter normalcy of their company. The most threatening thing about them is Chuck's harmless crush on me.

"Hey," I greet my lover softly and she forces a smile for my sake. "Sorry about the company. I should have called ahead. How's the Charger coming along?"

"Good to have you home. I see that their begging finally made you cave in," Ruth teases dryly and I'm glad to see that her smirk is laced with authentic mirth. "The Charger is giving me fits, the nasty rust trap."

The old '64 Charger has been giving my lover hell for a week now and it's annoying her almost as much as the missed shipment of smuggled micro-electronics. Luckily for me, she's still a sucker for my sweetest kisses and I lose myself in her mouth for long moments.



Once again, Jamie has made me feel better with her unrelenting adoration. The sting of failure falls away as I drink in her sweet, deep kisses. Some perverse part of me knows that her pals are watching and it gives me an odd thrill. Particularly the stupidly jealous part of me that acknowledges that boy's crush.

"Join us?" Jamie asks gently and I shake my head regretfully.

"Homework," is my simple reply and I see that she understands the significant look accompanying the word.

"Ah," she nods sagely and kisses my nose before straightening up. "Well, don't get too caught up. I have plans for you later."

The cheeky thing makes me chuckle as she sashays away.



We're cleaning up from dinner, finally alone after a long afternoon with company. "I talked with Becca today."

"How's she doing?"

"Still keeping Sarah in line from the sounds of it. Jonas must be impressed because if I read her veiled hints correctly, she's been allowed access to Will's research."

The startled look from Ruth is not at all feigned. The tidbit of news, passed on in my sister's calmest voice, shocked me too. But she's really smart and quite brilliant with computers. Good on Jonas for recognizing that.

"Hmmm," Ruth muses wordlessly and I have to smile.

"We'll have to go visit soon. I miss them."

Immediately, the dishes are forgotten as she wraps me in a strong hug. "Me too, Jamie. Me too."



It happens suddenly, almost accidentally. Weeks of lousy sleep as we carefully comb the nocturnal quiet of our sleepy burg lead to scant clues. But it's the foolishness of youth that finally cracks it. Turns out young Chris at the garage is one of the couriers.

Figures this has been happening under my nose.

Once I know to watch the boy, it's easy to trace the progression of personnel that are moving the contraband. Then, there are a few quiet phone calls and some discreet raids that destroy the network nearly back to its origins. The head of the snake will be a different mission than ours. In fact, Jamie and I spend the night at home as though nothing at all were untoward. There's tension between us at being left out and neither of us sleeps well.

But Jamie won't allow me to pull away, holding me close in the bed while we both stew in silence.



It's a tense morning, but we still exchange sweet kisses in the black early-morning. Honestly, it could go further, Ruth's hands growing heavier on my back and head, her kisses more demanding. "I have to go," I murmur against her mouth, hating to leave after our stressful night and several weeks of crappy sleep that has made us tense and irritable.

"I know," she whispers back, but I can hear the tremor of vulnerability beneath the strength and it jerks my heartstrings. "Be safe."

"I will, I promise. You be safe too."

"I will."

In the doorway, I pause to look back where my lover, my partner, my handler lies tangled in the sheets, watching me with shadowed eyes.

"I love you."

The words are out before I can censor them as I have for months and I still retreat like a coward to the false part of my life in this place.



Stunned by Jamie's whispered endearment, heard so clearly by the bionic ear in my skull, I lie in the darkness and stare at the ceiling. My emotions are a roller-coaster that leaves me faintly nauseous. Curling up tightly on my side, I wonder if I should have gone after her, even as the sounds of her cute little Saturn have long since faded.

Tangled with all of my Jamie emotions is the conflict of this damn case.

When the alarm jerks me awake several hours later, I'm shocked that I slept at all, much less so soundly. In the light of dawn, I examine my feelings with more honesty than expected and realize something obvious and life-changing.

Despite a life of solitude, despite the boundaries of our professional lives and all the dangers therein, despite it all…

I love her too.



I've been an automaton all damn morning. Stupid with lack of sleep and completely distracted, almost distraught, at my confession to Ruth, I'm running with an autopilot that I don't really have the skills for.

Eventually that leads me to a disaster that is a messy collision with Chuck that breaks every dish we're carrying in spectacular fashion. Both of us stammering apologies in the sudden quiet, we kneel to clean up and I'm shocked by familiar and completely unexpected hands reaching to help.

"Ruth?" I question softly, caught up in the look in her eye. Something burns there, a freed wildfire that I've never witnessed before. Hooking a hand around my neck, Ruth drags me close for a toe-curling kiss, right there in front of the late breakfast crowd.

"I love you too," she whispers softly, her voice hoarse with emotion.

The day is suddenly perfect.



Shaken by my weird morning, I attack the Charger with ruthless determination. I'm terrified and exhilarated by my confession of adoration. Shaken by Chris's disappearance in the hands of the FBI, the garage has been quiet and my solitude out back unbroken.

Well, for a couple of hours anyway.

Mike looks sober and exhausted as he appears beside me, habitually wiping at the grease that is as much a part of him as his skin. "Knew that boy would get himself into trouble," he says quietly and we eye each other for a long moment. There are no more words, but a silent wealth of understanding that I find strangely reassuring. "Hope things get back to normal around here now. Nobody ought to be here that doesn't want to be here. Community's important, you know?"

As he walks back towards the garage without a backwards glance, I find myself murmuring softly, "I know."



I haven't figured out what it is about Ruth the mechanic that turns me into such a slut for her. The messy state she gets into? The happiness in her eyes that comes from refurbishing these old cars she loves? Perhaps it's the concentration and dedication to something so safe and ordinary? Or the way she struts around like some cinema bad boy, sweaty and laden down with grease and tools.

Whatever the reasons, I really, really like her like this.

Mike pauses where he's walking back across the yard in the back, his gaze heavy across the cluttered space. The guy is way more observant than any hick mechanic has any right to be. I feel Ruth's stare on me as well, but hold Mike's eyes, only a glitter beneath the brim of his cap. Then he nods decisively and continues on his way. Somehow, I feel as though I've been given some sort of approval and it makes me smile faintly.



With a faint, knowing smile, that beautiful young woman struts over to me. Even now, I'm blown away that she's mine. Once more I'm a jittery mess over the exchange of adoration from this morning, not at all helped when Jamie curls her hands into the short hairs at the back of my head and kisses me senseless.

There are moments in a person's life that remain forever imprinted on our souls. Good or bad, they stay with us in vivid detail for all our lives. The first night Jamie came to me is one of those memories. This soul kiss is on the list now too.

In time, I come back to myself, released from the loving, sensual place that my lover has led me to, blinking in startled pleasure. "Wow," I whisper hoarsely, unsurprised to hear my voice actually crack. Gentle fingers stroke my face, Jamie still smiling luminously, while the bionic hand continues to caress the short hairs at the base of my skull.



It's sweet to see Ruth pleasantly bamboozled like this, all her rigid self-control stripped away to reveal the loving and warm woman beneath.

"I just wanted to do that," I grin, rubbing our noses together. Soon, we'll need to have a serious discussion about our feelings, but now is not the time. For the now, I'll just have us bask in this. Then I realize that her hands have slid over the small of my back, the left sagging dangerously low on my ass. Squealing with outrage, I leap away, growling, "dammit! You and your grease monkey paws!"

After a startled moment, Ruth chuckles before dissolving into gales of laughter.



In an adorably feminine huff over the small grease stains I accidentally put on her uniform, Jamie flounces off with a teasing smile that eliminates any chance that I might have taken her seriously. Tonight will be a hell of an experience, I bet! Some part of me acknowledges that she goes into the main garage instead of the side gate where she's snuck in and out before.

I don't think anything of it, too high on emotion to care.

Perhaps it's my mood, but the work goes quickly and easily this day, the normally stubborn Charger giving me a much-needed break. The body is nearly fully repaired, the rust painstakingly ground away, her engine is out and deep in the process of rehab and the extensive rewiring is showing real progress.

At five o clock, I return to my GTO and head for home. I'll miss this place and all that's happened here. Waving to my friendly neighbors going about their normal business, watching out for kids and dogs as I drive, I examine my feelings of approaching loss.

My re-acquaintance with love has made me contemplative.



There's always been a bit of a charge in hearing the garage door rumble open, alerting me to Ruth's coming home. Excusing myself, I head for the door leading to the garage, beating her to it, leaning my weight up against the hard surface, preventing her entrance.

"Hey," she smiles, the expression reaching deep into those pale, pale eyes. Silenced by the depth of my adoration for her, I wrap her in a strong hug, breathing in the scents of her, wallowing in her touch. "Missed you."

"Oh Ruth," I breathe into the sweaty blonde hair, "me too."

I really shouldn't under these circumstances, but I can't resist, nuzzling at the trailing edges of her ragged mane, following the scent of her hard work where it lingers on her skin. Ruth thinks I'm weird, I know, but I really like the lingering scent and taste of her healthy sweat where she misses it cleaning up.



Well, seems I'm not even going to get into the house before we get started tonight! Fine by me. It takes some sweet making out against the door to pick up on Jamie's stress and I immediately slow. Leaning back, our bodies still intertwined, I hold the restless blue eyes.

"What is it, Love?"

The endearment gets a flicker of surprise and the sweetest shy smile, her hug just strong enough to make me nervous. Face pressed to my throat, she breathes deeply for a long moment before dropping the bombshell.

"Jonas is here."

Somehow, I'm not surprised. After all, I should have known that our real lives would now catch up with us. I'm also not at all taken aback by how reluctant I feel to walk through that door.



Both of linger in silence for far longer than we should, mentally preparing to face Jonas together. This is going to be harder than I thought.

A long, slow breath and a subtle shift in Ruth's body is proof that it's time. But she gently grabs my chin as I lean away, holding my eyes. The doctor mask is back, but I am more gratified than I can verbalize to see the warmth of my lover peeking out of the calm hazel eyes. "You and me, together," she murmurs softly, caressing my lower lip with her thumb and I settle.

"Together," I echo just as quietly, drawing strength from her, from us.

The work body language and their ultra-calm tones aren't quite so jarring now. Ruth takes a few minutes to wash up as is her custom after a day in the yard. That gunk she gets covered in doesn't come off easily.



It's not cowardice exactly that sends me off to the kitchen to keep one of my rituals in this house. The murmur of voices carries faintly over the rush of hot water as the little stiff brush scrubs away the grease and crap that lingers in the wrinkles of my hands and beneath my wrecked nails. The narrow band of hard keratin grown beyond my flesh is ragged and needs trimming. So I slip off to the bedroom for clippers and an emery board before taking a deep breath and returning to the boss.

Ignoring the knowing gaze, I get down to business. To my surprise, Jamie silently takes the little grooming tools and my left hand to bend intently to that task. I can feel the tremors in her hand, cradling mine, and give her fingers a faint squeeze. It's an odd intimacy, this act with an audience, as the couple times she's groomed my nails has been a precursor to some wild sex.

Jonas' faint smirk of amusement tells me that my expression isn't as deadpan as I'd have liked.



Having something useful to do while my superiors talk is calming to my nerves. My ears can follow the conversation separately from this task. Ruth has elegant hands and I can feel the changes wrought to them over all these weeks of hard labor. Snip the ragged edges of the nail off, rasp the emery board to smooth the shape perfectly, use the blunt tip to clear away any debris that might linger in the little crevice between her nail and fingertip.

Some time passes this way.

I finish before they do, politely excusing myself to go make dinner. It's not as though I need to be in the room to follow the conversation after all…

When I hand Jonas a plate of garlic chicken pasta, his look of surprise goes to great lengths to ease my shock at being dragged out of this life that I have grown to enjoy.



He was strangely… gentle for lack of a better word. Even as we talked business, the three of us shared a meal and an odd intimacy. It was refreshing and fleeting.

We have two weeks here. An 'emergency' for our alternative selves will come up and we will go in a rush of activity, leaving this house and this life behind. The delay is to distance us from the arrests and alleviate any suspicions.

The working vacation will be over soon.

Jamie and I are curled up on the couch in quiet contemplation. We're in the same position as we have been since Jonas left when Jamie plopped down sideways beside me and leaned her torso into mine. I cradle her close, my nose in the dark hair and her hands on my arm.



Suddenly, the inactivity is too much. We'll both think ourselves into not sleeping tonight if we don't find some outlet. In a flurry of activity, I lightly slap Ruth's arm and jump to my feet.

"Let's go jogging."

We enjoy the dry summer air and soak up the calming vibes of this slice of normal life. Slowly, Ruth's stress bleeds away into the exercise and we make it all the way to the park before it grows fully dark. There is a pee wee baseball game going on and we lean on the short fence and cheer the small kids on for a few minutes before heading back.

At the halfway mark, Ruth falls back and I stop, turning to give her my attention. Her loving grin reassures me that the grounding normalcy of this after the shock of our real lives being thrust on us has worked.

We walk the rest of the way, hand in hand.



It's late on Friday and I'm both anxious and reluctant to leave the yard. On Tuesday, the 'emergency' phone call will come and we will be gone in a rush of activity. But I have left my mark here and that makes me feel good.

Four of the six old cars are gone, fixed and off to paint and back to their owners or into proper storage. The Charger is nearly finished and I feel a thrill of pride every time I look at the beast. The Corvette will be close enough to complete that the boys can do it themselves.

How I will miss this.

Sighing, I carefully put everything away as is my custom. The outside yard is drastically different than when I arrived. It's organized and there are canopies protecting the primary work and storage areas. Frankly, I got tired of sunburns.

The shop is eerily quiet when I go in to wash up, but I don't really think about it. After all it's a Friday evening.

"Wash up good," Jamie voice is totally unexpected and I whirl, actually dropping the soap in shock.



Oh yeah, the hassle of this is paying off nicely. Honestly, I don't know that I've ever seen this particular look of shock on Ruth's face. I've draped myself in the doorway of the washroom and my outfit is completely out of place here. I worked hard on this outfit and debated for weeks exactly what it would entail. Thankfully, a giggling Beth helped out, including an all day shopping excursion just Wednesday that pulled it all together.

"You like?" I ask unnecessarily and Ruth blinks back to attention. Preening, I pirouette and soak up the carnal look in my lover's eyes. "Wash up," I remind her and step into the room while she absently does so. "I brought your nail brush and that soap from home."

"You did," she murmurs blankly and now I feel positively smug. As hoped, I have reduced my lover to stupidity with the seduction headed her way.



I have been rendered idiotic by this sweet woman. Wrapped in a silky blouse, flowing skirt and delicate high heels, she looks like a high-powered executive or the like. The makeup is impeccable and her legs have that unmistakable look of expensive hose.

Good god… what am I in for?

"There's a change of clothes for you," Jamie instructs calmly before grinning wickedly. "Don't clean up too much. You know I like you sweaty and a little dirty."

And then sashays out of the room.

Shaken, I ruthlessly scrub my hands until they are squeaky clean and step into the deeper recesses of the washroom to see what else she's planned. Something is definitely up, because this is by far the cleanest this room has been since I've arrived. There are good reasons I do the bulk of my cleaning up back at the house. Stripping down, I mop off in the sink a bit and go for the neatly folded pile of clothing Jamie left for me. Which is basically the clean version of exactly what I was just wearing…

And I start to figure out where this is going.



Helping Mike to set this up has provided me with the answer to not one, but potentially two of my personal fantasies. All is ready for my lover and me; now I just need her out here.

Ruffled and coarse in the working clothes that she has worn this entire time undercover, I allow myself for the first time to really give in to the thrill it gives me to see her like this. Tousled, messy blonde hair, the ribbed tank top, the blue coveralls with the top half knotted around her slim waist, the heavy, filthy engineer's boots…

"Mike helped me set this up," I explain quietly, resisting the urge to jump on her right here. Then I flick the switch next to my hand and light floods the main work area of the garage. Ruth's eyes round once more as I gesture grandly to the elaborate setup. "I know that there's no way to fulfill that car fantasy of yours, but this is the next best thing."



After all of these years, I had thought my shock value as being fairly low. Then again, I had never planned on Jamie Sommers.

My GTO, my pride and joy, is on the chassis dynamometer, strapped securely in place, the front wheels heavily blocked. I get it now. This is my fantasy of fucking her senseless in my lap while the engine roars. Just the idea gets me hot and bothered. And the outfit makes sense now, because I realize how hot and bothered my mechanic self gets Jamie.

Well then!

Jamie doesn't object when I stride over to grab in a hug and kiss her silly, messing up her carefully applied makeup. "Take you for a ride?" I can't help but leer and she laughs.



This is working out perfectly, Ruth's enthusiasm bubbling over as even this watered-down version of her fantasy starts to play out. Smacking the lights back out again, I playfully shove her at the GTO and head over to the passenger side. Light bleeds in from the office areas, casting the shop into mysterious dimness and adding to the mood.

There's a lull once the doors slam shut and I touch Ruth's arm. "The exhausted is being vented through a hose outdoors, the doors are locked and the car is strapped down tight. Start her up."

Blowing out a nervous breath, the sound stuttering as I press close to nuzzle her ear, Ruth reaches down and cranks the key, bringing the big muscle car to life. The roar echoes through the confined space, shuddering through the frame like a racehorse straining to be released.

Her hair is soft and warm when I tease my fingers into the strands, tracing my other hand up her knee and thigh. "You're safe up to two hundred miles per hour and the tank is full. Show me what this baby can do."

The transmission clunks as Ruth shifts the car into drive and the engine revs up just like our libidos.



After the first few nerve-wracking seconds of stepping on the accelerator, I feel no unusual sensations in the car. The wheels are spinning against the big metal rollers of the dynamometer as they're supposed to. Now, I can get into the fantasy a bit better with the car in drive and some gas making it rumble enticingly. A car in neutral and a car in drive are very different animals, no matter how much gas you give it.

Eyes slit in pleasure at Jamie's attention, I start to get lost in the scene she's prepared. The darkness surrounds us completely and automatically flicking on the headlights reveals a great black tarp strung up in front of the car. Perfect. Dark backwoods road, my lover beside me, amorous and wanting…

"Jamie," I groan and she sidles closer with a breathless chuckle.

"I need you, baby," she growls, shifting to reach down and grab the lever that makes my seat slide back. My hands eagerly help her straddle my body, my foot pressing more heavily on the accelerator, the GTO snarling in response. Reality and fantasy start to blur as we kiss and the car howls and strains at her tethers.



It's better than I thought I would be, the pulse of the engine in the frame of the car, translated up to our twined bodies. Ruth growls at me, urgent now, as though we really are in danger in this 'moving' vehicle and that sensation is making her a little crazy.

Delighted, I happily do my damnest to encourage her in this headspace, grinding down into her lap and whimpering needily. Her hands and kisses are rough and demanding, tugging at my clothes and I wiggle around to let her yank at my skirt, thankful I thought to have Mike disengage the horn. Yes, the steering wheel digs into my kidneys and back and ass, but I couldn't give a shit less.

There's nothing under the skirt but garters, which pleases Ruth, the familiar sexy sounds rising in her throat. When she fumbles at the buttons to my shirt, I growl at her to just tear the damn thing off. It's a randy, wild fuck, bruising me up and making me scream for it before I can worm a shaking hand down her front of Ruth's coveralls to return the favor.



The fantasy is dizzying, my brain plugged into the scene completely, the climax racing across my nerves fast and hard. Writhing like a cat in heat, Jamie brings me home and my foot slips off of the accelerator.

The reduction of the sound and vibration is a harsh drop, mitigated by the hot, shadowed gaze of my lover.

"Care to reacquaint us with the backseat good lookin'?" she purrs and I have to chuckle in breathless delight. So begins a giggling wrestling match to get Jamie extricated from the steering wheel and I duck away as she clambers over the front bench. So I kill the engine and follow, sinking into the haven of her body, both of us cradled by the big back seat.

"That was wonderful," I hum into her naked chest, feeling the bunched-up material of my tank top crushed between us.



Ruth has always had a good sex drive and tonight I have really uncorked her. It takes only a bit of coaxing to get her straddled high on my ribs so I can wrestle the disheveled coveralls low on her hips. Then I can watch her face as I worm both hands deep into the scorching space between us, the yellowed eyes drifting almost closed as I fondle her.

She is so open, so accessible, so relaxed. The hassle of setting this up has been worth it as I knew it would be. Huffing with the pressure of her need, Ruth is beautiful as she hunches up, manages to press her open mouth to my forehead.

"Love you," I murmur, disengaging my right hand and stroking the lines of her body in encouragement. "You are so sexy."

The soft encouragement and my touch will get her there in time. Until then, I'm happy with the ride!



Friday night; an uncomfortable but wonderful night cumulated with Jamie testing one of the lifts with her enhanced strength while I fucked her to screaming. I'll pick the car up tomorrow after Mike reconnects the horn. Saturday; spent in bed and poking through our things to establish whether or not we'll keep anything. Today; reacquainting ourselves with our neighbors, friends and the surrounds we've both grown to love. In the red sunset, we stroll leisurely and take it all in.

"This has been great," I comment softly and Jamie gives my hand a squeeze, humming wordlessly in agreement.

"I wanted normalcy," she pipes up thoughtfully as we pause to admire one of the views, turning her expressive eyes to me. "I wanted it because I missed it." There is a gravity to this young woman now and I am grateful to have been a part of it. "Now, this all seems like a long vacation. Honestly, as long as I'm with you, I couldn't care less where I am."

And I am moved beyond words by her once again.



The 'emergency phone call' plan goes into effect Monday night, leaving Ruth and I to make our harried calls to coworkers and friends. By afternoon, we've hurriedly packed what we're taking and left the rest for professional packers. On a very public plane to San Francisco, I rest with my head on my lover's shoulder, silently watching as she types on her laptop and settles the Burkett mantle about herself once again.

The carefully stylized hair and chunky silver jewelry are a strangely welcome sight, as is the gentle smile she graces me with periodically. No matter the props, we are still together in all senses of the word. I'm ecstatic to be going home to Becca and find out what the hell I've missed in the last nearly two months, as well as checking on Sarah.

Life will move on, but giving Ruth's knee and sharing a smile with her, we'll always have Raleigh.

The End

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