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ARCHIVING: Only with the permission of the author.
The Luck of the Irish
By Del Robertson
"Hot dish!" shouted Mrs. Garrett, dodging and weaving her way from the kitchen into the main store of Edna's Edibles. "Coming through!"
Tootie and Natalie scattered as Mrs. Garrett rushed past them, sliding the metal baking pan onto the counter nearest the register. Breathing heavily, she leaned against the counter, taking her oven mitts off. She tossed the mitts onto the counter, pulled her favorite spatula out of her apron pouch.
"Those look mighty good, Mrs. Garrett," Natalie hinted, watching as Mrs. G expertly used the spatula to remove each cookie from the pan and place them on a display tray wrapped in white Kraft paper.
"They smell pretty good, too." Tootie leaned in, dramatically sniffing the aroma.
"Thank you, girls. I thought they'd be a big hit today." Mrs. Garrett looked extremely pleased with herself, glad that she kept up on all the major holidays and events. Any holiday treat or dessert was a fast way to make some quick cash in the shop. All she had to do was keep up on her calendar and adjust her recipes to make each holiday special. "Just one for each of you, so I know if they need anything extra."
Smiling, Natalie and Tootie reached out, taking a St. Patrick's Day treat each. They weren't positive how Mrs. Garrett managed, but she had an unique flair for cooking up things in the kitchen. They'd seen a lot of things come out of her oven, but never before had they seen four-leaf clover muffins, complete with green frosting.
"They're perfect!" Natalie congratulated her. "Don't change a thing."
"Why, thank you, Natalie." Blair whisked into the shop with a flourish, posing with one hand on her hip. She pointed her foot in emphasis, drawing everyone's attention to her bright green high heels. "Rutherford's Department Store, a bargain at $158 retail."
"You paid a hundred-fifty-eight dollars for a pair of heels?" Tootie's eyes went wide.
"A green pair of high heels," Natalie clarified. "Oh, where's Jo when we need a really clever comeback?"
"Well," Blair said haughtily, tossing her trademark blonde mane over her shoulder, "I needed something to wear for St. Patrick's Day. And, I simply had nothing else in the closet."
"You could have went simple and worn green socks," Tootie suggested, holding up her pants leg, showing off her green knee-highs.
"Or, a pair of shamrock suspenders and bowtie," Natalie chimed in, showing off her own ensemble.
"Even green earrings would have done the trick," chimed in Mrs. Garrett, craning her neck so the girls could examine her simple emerald earrings.
"Too blasé," Blair countered. "A Warner is anything but ordinary."
"That's what the description on the placard down at the zoo says, anyway." Jo sauntered in. "The one right outside your cage!"
"OH!" Blair's face grew red as she sputtered in indignation. Manicured nails balled into tight fights. "Turn blue, Polniazchek!"
"Nice comeback, Princess. Did you learn that one from the blue-butted baboon in the cage next to yours?" Jo laughed at her own joke as she placed a box of groceries she had been carrying on the counter. "Here's the things you wanted, Mrs. G."
"Thank you, Jo." Mrs. Garrett covered her mouth with her hand as she tried to hide her laughter. "But, you really shouldn't make fun of Blair." Another twitter escaped from behind Mrs. Garrett's hand.
Jo flicked a glance at Blair. The Warner heiress was still fuming, face a tight mask of annoyance, skin flaming a bright red. Her entire body was rigid, every muscle coiled in frustration. Jo expected her to stomp her foot and storm out of the room at any second.
"Ah, she knows it's all just playful teasing." Jo dismissed the topic with a flick of her wrist. She leaned across the counter, rummaging through the box of groceries. "Everything's here, Mrs. G." She could feel a miffed Blair staring at her back, imagined Blair was hurling daggers with her eyes. She felt her grin widen. She really did love getting under Blair's skin. "Here's your list." Jo reached a hand into the front pocket of her jeans, extracting a wad of cash. "And, your change. Your receipt's here somewhere," she added, rummaging through the box again. She stood on tiptoe, leaning forward, attempting to reach the bottom of the box.
"Oh, that's okay, Jo. I trust you - "
Mrs. Garrett's voice trailed off as Jo suddenly stiffened, a mortified expression fell across her face.
"No, she just didn't - " Tootie's eyes went as wide with shock as Jo's did.
Jaw clenched, the brunette slowly turned around, one hand rubbing at her buttock. Flashing blue eyes focused on a sheepish looking Blair Warner. "What the hell?"
"You're not wearing green," came the tiny reply. At Jo's continued glare, she added, "It's St. Patrick's Day. You have to wear green or risk getting pinched."
"Do I look Irish to you, Warner?" Jo shouted, slowly advancing on Blair, eyes still flashing, hand continuing to rub her throbbing buttock.
"It's all just playful teasing, right Jo?" Blair held both hands up in front of her as she slowly retreated.
Jo didn't say anything, just continued to advance on Blair. Blair glanced over her shoulder, making sure she wouldn't risk running into anything as she continued to back towards the door leading to the dining room. Mrs. Garrett didn't say anything; merely stood at the counter, wringing her oven mitts in her hands. Natalie was nervously biting her fingernails in anticipation.
"Ohhh, she's in trooouuuubbbblllee!" was all a wide-eyed Tootie managed to blurt out.
Blair's own eyes went suddenly wide. She abruptly turned, running through the door, hearing it swinging wildly on its hinges behind her. "You better run, Warner!" came the angry shout from just behind her. Panicking, she rushed up the stairs to the second floor, hearing Jo's sneakers bounding up the stairs after her. As she ran to the end of the hall, she felt Jo right behind her, breathing down her neck. Desperately, she turned the knob, flinging the door open. She rushed inside, turning to slam the door behind her.
She felt resistance as a hand caught the edge of the doorframe. She was struck off-balance as the door was roughly flung open. She inched backwards as Jo stormed in. Making eye contact with Blair, maintaining it, she softly closed the door. The lock clicked into place as Jo turned it. With one hand, she quickly reached out, pulling Blair to her before she could react, turning swiftly, placing Blair between herself and the door, effectively trapping her.
"Now, where you gonna run to, huh?" Jo hissed between clenched teeth.
"No - nowhere." Blair felt the hardwood door pressed tightly against her back, Jo's muscular frame leaning into her, pinning her in place.
"What's the big idea, huh?" pressed Jo.
"I'm sorry. It's just that you weren't wearing green and - "
"I can't believe you pinched my butt!"
Blair flushed a bright red. Biting her bottom lip, she lowered her gaze. "It's just that you came in and you were leaning across the counter and - " she looked up, finally meeting Jo's intense gaze. A mischievous grin spread across her face. " - and those jeans are just so damn tight."
Both hands braced on the door on either side of Blair's head, Jo leaned in, kissing her. Blair responded immediately, opening her mouth beneath Jo's, feeling Jo's heat slide into her. Reflexively, elegant hands clutched at a slim waist, caressing the rough denim beneath her fingertips. As the kiss deepened, her hands roamed freely, exploring the expanse of Jo's backside.
"I still can't believe you pinched me in front of Mrs. G and the girls," Jo growled fiercely, ending the kiss. She breathed heavily, a feral grin etched across her face.
"Well, you're just lucky that's all I did." Spoken with classic-Blair haughtiness. "I haven't been able to get you off my mind all morning." Nails from her left hand scraped along the denim, the sound echoing loudly in the still quiet of the room.
Jo's sharp intact of breath sounded raspy, her breathing coming in quick succession as she gasped at the contact. Smiling widely, sensing victory, Blair's other hand moved rapidly, covering the front of Jo's jeans. Biting her bottom lip, Jo fought down the guttural moan that threatened to escape. A palm pressed into her heated flesh as Blair cupped her crotch.
The suppressed moan broke free as two french-manicured fingernails dragged along the tight, denim material, scraping at swollen lips. Breaking the eye-contact she had managed to maintain until now, Jo glanced down the length of their bodies. Blair's chest was heaving, the only evidence that she may not be as in control as she pretended to be. And, what a chest it is, thought Jo, eyes threatening to glaze over at the sight of those magnificently pert breasts, erect nipples straining at the material of Blair's cashmere sweater. Reflexively, Jo licked her lips.
Blair took the opportunity to catch Jo off-guard. Her hands quickly moved, catching Jo's waist in her grip. She spun, turning abruptly, reversing their positions. Jo grunted as her head hit the back of the door. Blinking rapidly, she was surprised to find herself backed against the door, Blair pressing into her.
Wow! Where'd Blair learn that move from? She scarcely had time to form the thought before she felt Blair's hands resume their attack on her body. Then, all coherent thought was chased from her mind as she felt those french-manicured nails scraping at the denim between her legs. Yielding, she opened her legs slightly, inviting Blair to deepen her touch.
With a smirk, Blair leaned in, capturing Jo's lips. This time, it was her tongue that conquered Jo's mouth, demanding the terms of her surrender. To her delight, Jo brooked no resistance, allowing her to exert her dominant nature. The thought spurred her on, encouraging her to continue her bold actions.
She increased the pressure, pressing into Jo firmly. Fingers openly stroked between spread legs, deepening her caress. Jo squirmed beneath her touch, arching into her open palm, begging Blair to increase the contact. Her mouth leaving Jo's, she planted frantic, urgent kisses along her strong jawline.
Her other hand deftly worked at the button of Jo's jeans. Catching metal between her thumb and finger, she smiled against Jo's collarbone as the satisfying sound of a zipper being undone filled the air. Fingers slid beneath the waistband of Jo's underwear, slipping into damp curls.
Jo's eyes threatened to roll back in her head as Blair's skilled fingers found, closed about her swollen bud. Hips pistoned frantically, arching, seeking to deepen the touch that was tormenting her. Elegant fingers tugged, milked her tight bundle of nerves, threatening to send her over the edge. Blood roared through her veins, heart pounded in her ears as she felt the sharp bite of teeth close about the soft flesh at the base of her neck. Veins popping in her neck, she strained, arching forward, suspending movement as a nail scraped along her swollen bud, between her lips. A long guttural groan tore from her lips as she fell back against the door.
"Blair - " Jo panted, chest heaving, eyes still closed. Both hands were splayed against the door, as if trying to ensure her ability to stay standing. " - That was magnificent."
"Thank you," Blair smiled, all dimples. "But, I'm not done, yet."
Jo could scarcely breathe. She felt Blair sliding down her torso. She barely managed to open her eyes as Blair slid to her knees in front of her. Hands clutched at the fly of her jeans, tugging. She felt hot breath tickle her naval as her t-shirt was lifted. Jo licked her suddenly dry lips, eyes slamming shut, bracing herself, anticipating Blair's hot mouth on her tender flesh.
"Blair?" Jo questioned, not sensing any movement from her lover.
"Oh, my!" was the only reply.
Carefully, Jo unscrewed one of her tightly closed eyes. She looked down. Blair was on her knees, hands firmly clutching her jeans in her grasp. Wide-eyed, she openly stared at Jo's crotch.
"What?" Jo asked, her voice timid.
"You have on green boxers."
Jo frowned at her, unsure of what to make of this sudden development. "Yeah?"
"You have on green boxers," Blair repeated, firmer this time.
Suddenly, realization dawned on Jo. Of course! St. Patrick's Day! "Yeah, I do," she confirmed, sounding suddenly smug. "And, as I recall you pinched me for not wearing green." A truly wicked expression crossed her face. "Tell me, Blair, what's the penalty for pinching someone who's wearing green?"
"They get - " Blair's face visibly paled, her voice suddenly dropped an octave. "-pinched in return."
"That's right." A smile slowly appeared on Jo's lips.
Blair scrambled to her feet, backpedaled away from the door. Jo slowly advanced, backing Blair towards the bed. Her smile turned into a full-on maniacal grin.
"Jo," Blair pleaded, one hand extended in front of her. "You wouldn't - " she pleaded. The backs of her legs collided against the edge of the bed, causing her knees to buckle. She tumbled onto the mattress, landing flat on her back.
"Oh, I would, Princess." Jo jumped on the bed, pinning Blair beneath her weight. "And, just wait until you see where I pinch you - "
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