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The Power of Imagination
By zennie


The door swung open with explosive force, nearly toppling an unsuspecting patron on his way in, but the women who burst through the door neither noticed nor cared that they had almost sent him into the slushy snow.

"I can't believe you!" yelled Ash as she stomped her way toward the car. Scribbs half-ran behind her, struggling to keep up with the headlong flight. "You told that man that we were… that we were…"

"Lesbian lovers," Scribbs supplied helpfully as her partner seemed stuck for words. Ash slowed momentarily to glare back at Scribbs as if to say, 'don't help' before continuing her tirade. "Lesbian lovers…," the words sounding particularly unsavory when she repeated Scribbs' description, "for what again? To let him down easy? To make him leave you alone?"

"Well," Scribbs shrugged, "yeah."

Ash came to a stop and rounded on her blonde colleague. "And you really thought that your tongue down my throat would accomplish this?"

"It worked."

"It worked? It only worked after I threatened to hit him if he leered at you one more time."

Scribbs paused for a moment to relive the image of Ash going nose-to-nose with a bruiser twice her weight, a goofy smile spreading across her face as she recalled the look of fear in the guy's eyes. She immediately schooled her expression into one of repentance and apology when she saw Ash's eyes narrow dangerously, and for a second, she sympathized with the guy back in the bar.

Scribbs was relieved when Ash, rather than continue her tirade, simply turned and headed in the direction of the car, but her relief was short-lived as she heard herself blurt out: "About that. You know, I never imagined you would be the butch one."

Ash stopped dead, pausing a second in shock before spinning to face her partner again. "What?" If there was anything icier than the chill wind, it was the tone in Ash's voice as she said that single word.

"Um, well, I always figured I would, you know, be, um… because of the class background and…" Mercifully, Scribbs' flow of words came to an end in light of Ash's rapidly narrowing eyes.

"Let me get this straight…" Scribbs began to grin at the unintended pun, but caught herself before Ash saw, "you've given some thought to this?" Scribbs tried to pretend she didn't understand the question, but Ash did not relent, her voice sounding like it did during an interrogation when she was asking a question that would lead directly to a confession: "You've imagined what roles we might play in a lesbian relationship?"

"No! I mean, yes, um, maybe..." Scribbs grimaced and wished for a hole to open up at her feet and swallow her up, "a little bit."

There was a long silence as Ash regarded her partner, who was shifting from foot to foot and looking anywhere except at the brunette. "So," Ash asked, breaking the silence at long last, "what else have you imagined?" Her voice was openly speculative, but held none of the anger Scribbs was expecting. Unfortunately, the question was also unexpected.

Scribbs tried to duck past her partner and put an end to the conversation, but Ash caught her arm, her eyebrow raised as a prompt. "Nothing," Scribbs stammered, "just… you know, the good bits."

"The good bits?" Ash repeated, considering. "What do you mean, the good bits?" Scribbs stubbornly refused to answer, and Ash immediately zeroed in on the worst possible interpretation. "You mean, the sex?"

"Um…." Scribbs scrambled for a plausible diversion, but Ash obviously felt she was on to something. "Tell me, Scribbs, how is the sex?"

"We are not talking about this," she asserted as she pushed past Ash and stalked toward the car.

"Is the sex good?" called Ash from behind her.

"Not talking about this…" Scribbs' voice was sing-song, and she was seconds from sticking her fingers into her ears.

"Is it hot?" Silence from the blonde who had almost reached the car. "I always imagined it would be. Hot, that is."

It was Scribbs' turn to stop dead and spin around to face Ash. "WHAT?"

"Hot…" Ash repeated, steadily advancing on her stunned colleague, "hair-pulling, mind-blowing, nails-down-the-back, screaming-orgasm hot." She stopped directly in front of Scribbs, a half-grin gracing her lips, "Don't you think?"

Scribbs's reaction was instantaneous: she reached out and wrapped a hand around the back of Ash's neck to pull her in for a bruising kiss. Ash's hands shoved into her jeans' pockets to mold their bodies together as they crashed back against the car. The kiss in the bar had been an awkward yet pleasurable affair as Scribbs had taken Ash by surprise; this kiss, however, had none of the awkward fumbling of a first, or even a second, kiss. This kiss was pure sex: sure, confident, and a promise of more.

Breaking off to gaze at Ash's disheveled hair and smeared lipstick, Scribbs smiled and answered Ash's rhetorical question, "We're going to find out."

The End

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