Everglades

Through the thin mat under her knees Robin could feel the fiberglass beneath, hard and baked hot in the sun. Regretting for what seemed the hundredth time that she'd turned down Ken's offer of a pressure hose, she turned and dunked her brush once more into her water bucket before returning to her scrubbing.

It wasn't as though that many people saw the roof of the houseboat, particularly - Robin was disinclined to roast in the sun and she never had visitors. But that was no reason not to keep it clean - every time she considered just ignoring it she could hear her mother's voice in her ears. 'You'll know,' she would say. 'You'll know it's dirty, and that will eat away a little bit of your soul,' and then she'd have some proverb or biblical quote to back up her assertion - a tidy house is a tidy mind, or the devil makes work for idle hands or somesuch.

With regular rainfall, of course, the job was much easier, but it only took a few days of damp heat and no rain for the dust and grime carried on the wind from town to encrust and bake onto the roof in a nasty, sludgy mess, clogging the guttering and encouraging insects.

So here she was, sweat long since soaked through the back of her shirt, scalp itching under her scraped back hair, scrubbing away. It wasn't much of a way to pass the time, really - if she was going to be sweaty and sore she would've at least liked to have something more than a clean roof to show for it, but bad luck and happenstance had put an end to that pretty handily. She was reminded every time she shifted and the twinge shot through her leg of just how over that period of her life was, and it certainly didn't help her mood.

Still, at least it was serene. She'd chosen a spot out near the outskirts of town, far from where commercial houseboats and barges had their moorings, and although it meant being a little further from some basic amenities and made recharging her electricity a pain in the ass if the solar panels weren't providing enough, it was worth it for the peace and quiet.

Robin knew that people wanted to call her a hermit - were practically itching to, if the looks she got anytime she went down to the local grocery store to stock up were any indication. It gave her some small amount of pleasure to know that that particular label was denied to them, if only because of her somewhat bizarre career choice; one could hardly be called a hermit if one spent all day surrounded by children. Still, kids were preferable to adults - they asked far fewer annoying questions and didn't care about her personal life or history before she came to teach at the school. This in addition to the three-month break over the summer made her job far better than most she could've gone for, and if it kept the town gossips off her back, all the better.

And besides, wasn't this the way spinster schoolteachers were meant to behave? Weren't they meant to live on the fringes of the community with their cats and their herb gardens, coming out only to teach and make obligatory appearances at church fairs and garden parties, spending the rest of their time tucked neatly out of the way, hidden from the sight of a community that had no place for them, no neat box to put them in?

Robin allowed a wry smile as her own rather scruffy looking feline hopped neatly up onto the roof to join her, although she flicked water at him to effect his sharp exit from the work-in-progress. There wasn't much more to go, and then she could reward her hard work with a well-earned cold beer and a nap in the shade. After all, Sundays were meant for relaxing, and she had a long week ahead of her.

 

"Savannah, honey, please will you get your shoes on? It's nearly eight thirty and I don't think Mr Chandler's going to be all that happy if he gets here and you're still sitting there in your socks and PJs." Beth listened closely for a reply - none was voiced, but she did hear a beleaguered sigh from the other room and a thump as her seven year old daughter slid off the couch in search of her shoes. Mornings were a particularly contentious time, as cartoons and endless bowls of cereal tempted even the most academic of children into dragging their feet for a few extra precious minutes while their parents rushed around like madmen trying to motivate them into leaving the house. Beth had mostly gotten it under control, mainly by waking up several hours before Savannah did in order to take care of all the time-consuming tasks so that she could focus on getting the girl fed and dressed before the local 'school bus' came to pick her up. It was just that some days were harder than others.

Looking up from the bite of toast she had managed to snag while standing over the sink Beth spotted a familiar blue minivan pull up, a maniacally-grinning daisy emblazoned on the side under the words 'Cheery Chandler's Child-Moving Services'. "Oh for Pete's sake... Savannah! Get your things, it's time to go!"

A moment later the little girl slumped into the tiny kitchen, dragging her army-green knapsack behind her. "But Mo-om..."

"I don't want to hear it right now, 'vannah. We'll talk about it later. Right now I want to see you scoot, okay?"

"But-"

"No buts," Beth said with a smile, leaning over to place a kiss on the top of her daughter's head before reaching for the door. "Have a good day at school. Learn lots. Love you lots."

There was a toot of a horn from outside; after a bit more prevarication Beth managed to shoo her daughter out the door and onto the bus. She watched as it pulled away, feeling the familiar mixture of wistfulness and relief. The fact that Savannah was old enough to spend all day at school was both a blessing and a curse; she didn't get to spend nearly enough time with the girl, but it meant that at least she could put in a full day's work with her other love - the park. She wished, as always, that there were more hours in the day, as the current allotment didn't give her enough time with either. Well, at least she would have most of the day to spend out in the marsh, at any rate until the mosquitoes came out, which at this time of year would be-- a glance at the calendar stopped her thoughts cold. There it was, in big red letters... how could she have missed that?

PARENT TEACHER CONFERENCE - 7pm

Another read-through to make sure she wasn't hallucinating and then she was scrambling for the phone, swearing under her breath once again at her absent-mindedness.

"Jenny? It's Beth... I have a huge favor to ask. Yeah, just for a little while, I promise I'll pick her up before bedtime... oh God, thank you, you're a lifesaver."

Her sister, of course, wasn't prepared to let a phone call go by without quizzing Beth on several other topics including the state of her health, garden, and paycheque, none of which had changed in the past two days since they're spoken last, but she managed to keep it short and was only ten minutes late on the road, which was actually pretty good going.

 

What had been ten minutes at the beginning of the day, of course, ended up being significantly more at the end of it. Beth rushed into the school, grateful for the sensible hiking boots that kept her from skidding on the slick linoleum that had probably been polished just for the parent conferences that evening. She jogged down the hallway, peering at the classroom doors until she found the one in question, opening it and peeking inside with an apologetic expression. "Ms Davis? So sorry I'm late, I hope I haven't upset the schedule too much..."

The woman behind the desk was, strangely for Brookford, only somewhat familiar - Beth knew that Robin Davis had grown up here but being a few years different in age they'd never really known one another, and as far as she knew Robin had left like a shot for college when she hit eighteen and hadn't returned for more than a holiday until a few years ago. Her mother, her lone surviving parent, had died, and Robin had returned to Brookford, ostensibly to take care of her mother's estate and to oversee the sale of their family home, but the market being what it was the large house still sat boarded up and on the market, unmoving, and Robin herself had now been teaching at the local elementary for the best part of two years.

Or so Jenny said, anyway. Beth's older sister was ages with Robin Davis, and purported to know more still - that Robin had spent the best part of her years away travelling the world, living like a vagabond, hand to mouth, working here and volunteering there and generally refusing to settle down - which didn't sound that bad to Beth but the way Jenny said it it sounded as though it was in Jenny's opinion a lifestyle only marginally preferable to working in an abattoir or cleaning septic tanks.

Beth was pulled sharply from her reverie by the realisation that Ms Davis was in fact addressing her.

"...run late on these parent's conferences anyway, you know how it goes. Please, sit down."

Beth nodded dutifully and took a seat in the thankfully-normal-sized chair pulled up on the other side of the teacher's desk, wishing she had had time to do more than change out of her work shirt and run a brush through her shoulder-length chestnut hair. She probably still smelled like bug spray and swamp mud, but it wasn't really something that could be helped now. "Right. Well. I'm here now," she said, giving the other woman a wide smile. "Let's do this."

Raising her eyebrows slightly, Davis looked to her papers. "Right, then, Ms... Hall?" she hazarded after a moment's hesitation, tapping her pen on her list of student names. "Savannah's mother, yes?"

"It's Strickland, actually." The decision to go back to her maiden name had raised more than a few eyebrows when she made it and frequently caused confusion, especially in cases like these, but Beth had learned to smile through the raised eyebrows and soldier onwards. "But please, call me Beth."

On this occasion, Ms Davis didn't seem to miss a beat, only nodding and taking a moment to scribble a note next to Savannah's name. "Well Ms Strickland," she began, retrieving a copy of Savannah's recently famous (in Beth's house, at any rate) report card from the top of her pile, "your daughter is obviously very naturally bright, as I'm sure you know." The teacher glanced up at this as if to confirm that Beth did in fact know this, and, receiving a nod and a smile went on. "I have her reading age noted down as ten, and she's clearly extremely creative - I take it you saw the piece she made for our nature project last term?"

Beth chuckled; Savannah had spent hours painstakingly gluing bits of found debris - leaves, branches, twigs - onto a sculpture she had made in an intricate design of only her understanding. Any attempt by her mother to 'help' was met with an outraged "Mom!" and strict instructions for Beth to vacate the porch until she was done creating. "I don't know where she gets it from - I'm about as artistic as a blind 'gator and all thumbs when it comes to that sort of thing."

"Well, regardless, she seems to be thriving in that regard. Her approach to other subjects however can be a little more... approximate. Do you run through her math homework with her?"

"I try," Beth said, sensing for the first time that the conference might not be entirely accolades for her and her prodigy. "As much as I can. But... sometimes all I have time for is to make sure she's done it all - we don't look at all the answers."

Ms Davis pursed her lips and instantly Beth understood how this quiet spoken, unassuming woman was able to control a class of unruly seven year olds - you did not want to disappoint her. "I see."

"She's still doing alright in her tests, though, isn't she? Her report card wasn't too bad..."

"It's not bad, no, but it could be exceptional," Davis said, laying down her pen. "I have no doubt she's perfectly capable of excelling in all areas, but she's careless - she doesn't check her work and she doesn't apply herself when she isn't interested."

She's seven! Beth wanted to cry, but she bit her tongue, forcing a smile at the woman across the desk who clearly only had Savannah's best interests in mind. "I guess I need to be a bit more vigilant with her homework, then," she said, fatigue welling up along with the words. She tamped it back down; what was a little less sleep when it came to her daughter's future? "Thank you for letting me know, Ms Davis."

Perhaps the other woman heard the weariness Beth had tried to disguise in her tone, or perhaps it was a suggestion she'd planned to make in any case, but she went on now to say, "Have you considered any of the after-school clubs? There's a math club on a Tuesday evening run by Ms Harper."

"I didn't know about that," Beth replied, pursing her lips. It wasn't that she wanted to offload Savannah - far from it - but if there was a club that would both help her with her homework and give Beth a bit more time to get some work done... "I'll see if she wants to go along. Or more likely, what she'd take as a bribe."

Ms Davis glanced up again from her notes with what was clearly her 'I'm going to assume you're joking' expression. "Well, I think that's all then - oh, although one last thing. Do you know of another girl in her class called Kaylee Johnston by any chance? Has Savannah mentioned her at all?"

"No, I don't think so," the other woman said with a shake of her head, expression growing somewhat curious.

"Hm. Well, no matter. Seems as though there's something of a budding rivalry there, that's all. I wouldn't worry, mind - these things like as not pass quickly enough."

Beth seemed more concerned by this than the mild warning seemed to warrant, though she didn't contradict the teacher's generalization, merely pressing her lips together again and nodding. "Alright. I guess I'll get out of your hair, then, if that's all..."

"I think so," Davis replied with a final glance up at the parent, this time favouring her with a small smile. "It was good to meet you, Ms Strickland," she said now, pushing to her feet and holding out a hand.

"You too. And thank you - Savannah loves your class." Beth gripped the other woman's hand, giving it a firm shake. "The school is lucky to have you, Ms Davis."

She thought she saw a brief flicker in the teacher's countenance at this, but it was there and then gone in a moment, and Beth was out of the classroom and off down the corridor before she even gave it any thought.

 

Robin had done it again. She swore she wouldn't, had braced herself not to, but trying to fight these things was futile. It didn't matter that being attracted to one of her student's parents was an idiotic thing to do - she had denied her libido enough that it certainly wasn't listening to her now, which gave that evening's conferences a whole new level of torture as she stumbled and hesitated through the rest of her appointments, mind constantly wandering back to her seven o' clock (well, seven-fifteen) meeting.

It didn't help, of course, that she'd had to chide said parent for dereliction of duty. She had been prepared to be particularly hard on Savannah Hall's parents - the girl clearly needed more support at home if she was going to fulfill her potential, and Robin had been braced for irresponsible, neglectful parents, oblivious to their child's capabilities and disinclined to be informed on the topic.

Instead, she had been faced with a woman, obviously on her own, who from every indication did care - she had seen the glow of pride when they had discussed Savannah's achievements, as well as her disappointment (inwardly directed, in this case) when she had brought up the need to be more involved in her daughter's work. There weren't a great many single parents in Brookford, as the town still carried its Southern sensibilities, frowning upon anybody who chose to forgo the bond of marriage, and Robin could imagine it was a harder burden to bear there than many other places. She hadn't enjoyed pointing out that her involvement wasn't quite good enough, though she did think it was for the girl's benefit.

Flipping back to Savannah Hall's page in her evening's notes, she scribbled another message to herself to speak to Nancy Harper about the math club in case Ms Strickland forgot, and her eye caught one of the other scraps of writing on the page.

Profession? Gardener? Robin remembered the faint but sharp scent of sunscreen, insect repellent and the outdoors - grass and trees and sunshine - that had drifted across the desk between them, and an almost wistful sigh escaped her lips.

She snapped the book shut. Enough.

 

"Yeah, she said she was doing really well - she's reading at a ten year old level." Beth couldn't help a little bit of bragging - Jenny's own sons were bright enough kids, but focused more on football and video games than academic achievement. For all her sister never lorded her own happy marriage and housewifely contentment over her, sometimes it felt nice to have something to be proud of. "Ms Davis said said she could be exceptional if she did a bit more work."

"Sounds like another kid I once knew," Jenny replied with a chuckle as she folded her crotchet carefully back into its bag.

"Well, it's even harder from the other side... I want her to do well, of course, but I don't want to push her too much. Even if I have time to, you know? That teacher seemed to think I had nothing better to do with my time but spend it poring over arithmetic problems - she made me feel practically neglectful!" Beth hadn't realized how much the teacher's attitude had annoyed her until it bubbled up just then, and she frowned down at her glass of iced tea. "Of course I want to help Savannah succeed."

"Oh honey, you're doing everything you can," Jenny soothed, "I don't know what business Robin Davis has lecturing you about responsibility anyway - she's the one who's spent the best part of the last fifteen years off and about doing as she pleased." Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "What's she like now? I've seen her about here and there, of course but never close up - and I haven't spoken to her since she got back..."

"She's... I don't know. We didn't talk very long. She's quiet. Kind of... intense. She doesn't really strike me as a second-grade teacher, but she must be different with the kids, I guess." Beth shrugged, furrowing her brow. She considered herself a pretty good judge of character, but she had found it hard to get a bearing on Robin Davis. "You said she's always been kind of a loner?"

Jenny shrugged. "She had a few friends - the smart kids I guess - oh, and that Paul Keenan, you remember him." Jenny's expression said that her own memories were not entirely approving.

"Right. I guess it must be tough for her - they've all left town. It's a wonder she came back."

"Maybe her mother's passing made her stop and take a good look at herself."

Jenny was very keen for people to 'take a good look at themselves', under all sorts of circumstances.

"Maybe," Beth said non-commitally, giving a small shrug and fishing the lemon from her empty glass to suck on. She thought it far more likely that Robin Davis had come back to town and gotten mired there in the morass of obligation and expectation that ran sluggishly through it all.

"And anyway, I guess her galavanting was pretty much over after the accident."

Beth glanced up, plucking the lemon from between her teeth. "Accident? What happened?"

"You didn't hear about it? It was on the front page of the Tribune - maybe four years ago? 'Local girl escapes death on Argentine peak' or whatever. She was climbing some mountain or up a glacier or something and she fell and trapped her leg. Stuck for days, apparently. That's where she got that limp."

"Oh." Beth hadn't noticed any limp but then, the teacher had stayed behind the desk for the duration of the meeting. That hadn't stopped her from noticing the other woman's lean, toned arms or tanned skin - suddenly mountain-climber made a lot of sense. "That's terrible. No wonder she came home."

"Mm, well, at least she's doing something worthwhile with her life now."

Beth bit back the remark that some might say 'adventurer' was just as valid a life choice as 'housewife' or 'ranger', merely pushing her chair back and raising her arms above her head in a stretch. "Thanks again for tonight. We'll see you on Sunday for dinner?"

Tightening the drawstring of her bag, Jenny nodded, pushing to her feet with a groan. "Barring emergencies, sure - I swear, if this one doesn't get a move on soon my back will never be the same again," she commented, patting her swollen middle.

"You just give me a call if you need anything," Beth told her, stepping forward to place a kiss on her sister's cheek. "And make sure Hank doesn't let you lift a finger, or I'll have to come give him another talking-to."

"Oh, Hank does his bit," Jenny said, shaking her head. "He words damn hard." Though light enough, Jenny's tone contained a slight hint of warning. Although she could be quite hard on her husband from time to time she would not tolerate criticism from anyone else, and didn't take at all kindly to Beth's 'talking-to' of a few weeks ago where her younger sister had told Hank in no uncertain terms what she thought of his priorities when it came to beer, buddies, chores and heavily pregnant wives.

"Mm. Anyway. See you Sunday." Pushing her chair in, Beth turned and went to retrieve her sleeping daughter from the living room sofa. Savannah was fast asleep, curled up in a little ball as was usual, her beloved bear, Big Fish, cradled in one arm.

After scooping her up, Beth carried the girl out to her beat-up pickup truck and carefully buckled her into the front seat. She knew Savannah would sleep through until morning; it looked like their new homework regimen would have to wait 'til tomorrow.

 

"...It's not my thing, y'know? Small-town hothouse, unrequited yearnings, repressed and closeted - that ain't me, I don't do that, so I figured I'd just shut down the whole idea until I got out of here." Robin trailed off rather than admit aloud that it wasn't only the small town that fuelled her current solitude. She sighed, relaxing back on the couch. "Guess it was the way she smelled that did it. The outdoors, nature - real nature, not cat on a canal boat nature. Happier times. You know they say smell is the strongest memory trigger? Course you do."

Her audience seemed unimpressed with the information, flicking his ears back and forward a couple of times before apparently deciding he'd heard enough and rising smoothly to his feet, stalking out with his tail in the air.

"Well, fine," Robin called after him with a smirk, "I have marking to do anyway."

Marking first grade homework didn't take all that long; it mostly consisted of sticking on smiley face stickers and recording them in her gradebook, and before long Robin was done and once more reduced, as she was every evening at some point, to sitting silently on the couch, beer resting on her flat stomach in the crook of her hand, staring down her writing desk.

It was a good idea, in theory. Robin had plenty of things in her head that would probably be best be spilled out on paper, and there were plenty of adventuring magazines that would happily pay for tales of her experiences over the past decade. She had no doubt that she would have a dedicated fanbase should she ever write any of it down. There was just one small problem - the writing.

She'd gotten into the habit of chronicling her day-to-day activities over the years she'd spent travelling - important dates and times, descriptions of what she'd done, people she'd met. Part travel journal, part itinerary, it ought to be a simple process to take those notes and fill them out, elaborate with the extra details that made the story hers, made it human, real. And yet whenever she opened one of those notebooks to read back over it, she would get through only a few pages before the urge to cry, or maybe just scream, would become so strong that she would shut it again immediately, put it back in its battered suitcase with all the others, and it would be weeks or even months before she would try again.

So now she was trying to flex her writing muscles - so to speak - by resuming her journal. The problem was that her life had gotten significantly less interesting than it used to be, and hence trying to write about her day just made her depressed.

Today of course there had been the delightful Ms Strickland, with her dark eyes and her white teeth and her strong hands, but Robin didn't want to write about that, didn't want to commit to paper something she'd be best off pushing from her mind altogether. Instead she tried to write about the rest of the conferences, about the nervous parents, the blustering ones, the quiet mothers and bombastic fathers, the families where you could spot the resemblance a mile away and those you really had to observe closely to catch. She knew if anybody ever got a hold of her journal and showed it to the School Board she'd be chastised for some of her descriptions and judgments, but seeing as no one ever came by to even speak to her that seemed unlikely. She even began to enjoy it a little, finding herself grasping for imaginative ways to describe these characters without sounding clichéd or affected, looking around her and combing through her memories for comparisons and metaphors that were fresh and hitherto unused.

She was so caught up in the effort that she barely noticed as she flicked through her mental list of 'parents, not yet written about' and came up with Beth Strickland. A little too short to be a modern-day Amazon, she wrote, but close to the mark in most other respects. Obviously a woman of action, of body, of doing - but at the same time tired, worn, stretched thin.

I'm the last person in the world to say a woman can't be alone, work and take care of a child, but I think she needs more help.

Only now did Robin hesitate, but after that moment's pause she pushed on, finding her handwriting getting just a shade tidier in her deliberation over her words.

I'm not sure yet what I can do, but I'm going to try.

 

"Okay, good, and what about the next one?" Beth stifled a yawn with the back of her hand; she had been up since 5 am and it was finally beginning to show. Still, Savannah seemed relatively happy about their new routine of checking over her homework after dinner, and scrupulously erased every wrong answer they caught and filled in the correct one, glancing to her mother for approval before moving on.

Perhaps she was just relieved. Savannah, like most kids her age, was far too perceptive for her own good and Beth was painfully aware that her daughter knew that something that had been said at the parent-teacher conference had affected her profoundly and was waiting for some sort of explosion. But when they sat down to talk about it and Beth told her that she wanted to start going over her math homework more carefully Savannah, far from being bored or annoyed, seemed almost pleased.

In any case, it was only an extra twenty minutes' work, after which Savannah headed off to brush her teeth and read before bed, and Beth had a few moments to sit and relax. There was laundry to hang, and pack lunches to be made, and yet more paperwork to be done, but for at least a little while she could ignore all that and just be by herself. The problem was, she wasn't quite sure how to do it.

She had always had plenty of friends growing up - she had been on half the sports teams in town and at school, and with those teams came an automatic pack of pals. She kept busy both with sports and later, her studies, and college had been full of exciting opportunities and socializing, and though it all seemed a whirlwind now she remembered the overwhelming feeling of happiness and potential, the same feeling that seemed to drain away once she met Dan. Surely in those first few months there had been excitement and anticipation, but she couldn't really recall them now, seeing only what came after. And now her life seemed to be so consumed by work, by caring for Savannah, by remembering dates and appointments and church luncheons and by keeping things moving that when they stopped she... couldn't remember how to. Relaxing back into her battered old armchair, she let her mind sift back through the events of the last few days - the new experience of supervising Savannah's homework, her long days at work overseeing the latest leg in the ongoing preservation project in their area, her conversation with Jenny a few nights previously and the meeting with Robin Davis that had preceded it.

Somehow it all seemed to come back to that conversation. Though it hadn't lasted longer than fifteen minutes she remembered every word, and what was more, the mixed sensations that they evoked. On the one hand, she had been more than a little annoyed that someone - anyone - had expressed criticism of the way she was raising Savannah. Robin Davis had only been teaching a few short years and before that, to listen to Jenny tell it, she had lived an itinerant life, drifting wherever she pleased and doing whatever she wanted. She had no idea what sort of commitment raising a child was, and how it consumed your life until you could think about little else. On the other hand, she obviously had Savannah's best interests in mind, and Beth was grateful for that.

And then there was the woman herself. Savannah had been all 'Ms Davis this' and 'Ms Davis that' since the beginning of term, but Beth and the elusive teacher always seemed to miss one another at events and parties - Robin Davis was the type to arrive early and leave early and although Beth tended to run on time for work and school she was prone to arriving late to social gatherings.

Having met her now, Beth finally understood why the older woman would make such an impression on someone like Savannah. Although she shared her mother's love of nature and the outdoors, Savannah also took pleasure in activities that occupied her active, inquiring mind, always looking for something new to learn about, and she could imagine that Robin Davis, if her history was anything to go on, had plenty to teach her. More than that, though, there was something about the teacher's countenance - her open, even features, those mild grey eyes - that inspired calm and consideration - for all that Beth had wanted to argue with her the other night she'd found herself unable to, unwilling to break the cordial, quiet spoken mood that seemed to hang over them. There was no doubt that a classroom of seven year olds would go a long way to breaking that quietude, but if anyone could get Savannah to sit down, shut up and concentrate - and enjoy it - it would be Robin Davis. After all, she got my attention, and 'Vannah's a chip off the old block...

"Mom! I'm ready to be tucked in now!" Her reverie broken, Beth pushed herself out of her chair and headed for her daughter's bedroom for their nighttime routine of stories and snuggles in bed. Sometimes being a parent wasn't all that bad.

 

Robin sometimes thought that every spare hour of daylight from now until the day she died would be spent doing some sort of renovation on her boat. She had bought a fixer-upper in the hopes that it would keep her busy and distracted and it had certainly done that. Currently she was sitting in the small rowboat that was usually tied to the side, polling slowly around the houseboat as she inspected the through-hulls for leaks or holes - far from a glamorous job, but certainly a necessary one. She had just pushed off from the shore when she heard the sound of an outboard motor approaching; curious, she looked upriver to see a small dinghy maneuvering its way expertly through the sawgrass clumping the river, leaving small ripples in its wake. As she watched the owner cut the power suddenly, bending over the side of the boar with some sort of equipment that Robin couldn't see from here and doing something or other before continuing toward her.

As the boat neared Robin was struck by a flash of recognition - the woman crouched with one hand on the tiller was none other than Beth Strickland, Savannah Hall's mother, clad in the telltale khaki and green of a park ranger. She seemed to have a bit more trouble placing Robin, though as soon as she did a smile flashed across her face and she cut the motor once again, drifting to a stop not far from where the teacher's own vessel. "Ms Davis! I had no idea you stayed along this stretch of the river," she exclaimed, sounding pleased for some reason.

"And I had no idea you were a ranger," Robin said with a nod of greeting, turning a little where she sat to face the other woman across the water. "I guess that's where Savannah gets her love of nature."

Beth grinned, tipping her hat back slightly to swipe the back of her hand along her forehead. "That might have something to do with it, yeh."

"So what're you doing on the river?"

"Water monitoring," she said, motioning to the array of tubes and buckets next to her. "Mercury, phosphorus, oxygen concentration..."

The teacher smirked slightly. "Sounds like riveting stuff. I guess the running across the hills enjoying the great outdoors bit couldn't last, huh?"

Beth's eyebrows shot up. "I take it most of what you know about park rangers you got from... Yogi Bear cartoons? Teddy Roosevelt propaganda posters?"

"I took basically all my life's inspirations from Yogi Bear," Robin deadpanned. "Rustic locations, pic-a-nic baskets, hermitude, the whole lot."

"I suppose there are worse cartoons to take lessons from - following Wile E. Coyote could get you thrown in jail for badly-planned homicide attempts," Beth replied with a grin.

"And I tried following around pretty black cats with accidental white stripes down their backs, but you don't want to know how that went..."

This drew a full-bodied chuckle from the ranger, who shifted, causing the boat to drift a little closer. "So this is your boat, huh? She's a beauty."

Robin's eyes narrowed a little. "You should ask your daughter what I do when people are making fun of other people," she said in a tone of mock-warning.

"What? I wasn't making fun - she really is. A bit beat up, maybe, but I don't trust a boat that doesn't have a few dings in her." As if to prove this, Beth leaned over to bang the side of her own dinghy with the flat of her palm.

The other woman seemed to relent a little at this, smiling and shaking her head. "She was what I could get at the time, to be honest," she said. "Well, for what I was prepared to pay, at any rate." She hesitated. "I'll... give you the nickel tour if you like."

"I'd love one."

 

There wasn't much to see, of course - the boat's living space was quite spacious but all on one 'floor', the berths at the front and back a little lower than the middle galley and living area, the 'rooms' separated only by meticulously neat mosquito nets that Beth suspected were regularly replaced to keep them looking so pristine. Robin seemed to like light, airy colours, grey-blues and off-whites - the sorts of furnishings that Beth wouldn't dream of with a seven year old daughter rampaging around her house leaving chocolate and fingerpaint and mud on everything she touched. The only break from the decor were a couple of impressionistic dark wood carvings that sat on the floor in one corner, presumably a memento from her travels. It was quite minimalist - Beth wasn't sure what she had expected but she had always envisioned a teacher's house as filled with books and curiosities and for the most part Robin's houseboat was anything but - the only sign of any kind of literature being a small stack of what looked likely to be children's paperbacks on the floor by a wall, neatly bookended, and a few magazines, papers and notebooks on the coffee table in front of the couch.

"It's so... wow. It's gorgeous," she said, suddenly feeling out of place in her hiking boots and cuffed shorts. "Did you do all this yourself?"

"Uh... well, that depends what you mean by 'all this'. Some of it I paid to have fitted?"

"But you... designed it?"

"I... suppose so?" Robin said, still looking a little reluctant to take credit. "I mean, there are only so many options to choose from with a houseboat..."

"I've seen a couple," Beth offered, turning to take in the interior again. "And this is definitely the nicest. I guess if you get fed up of teaching you could always do this instead."

"What? Renovate houseboats? Oh, I don't think so..."

"Well, no, I meant... designing. Decorating." The ranger gave a nervous grin, waving her hand to dismiss her words. "Nevermind. You're doing a great job at the school, you don't need to think about doing something else. Sorry, I'm... babbling. Should we go outside?"

"Well, I suppose I could show you the freshly cleaned roof," Robin offered with a slight smirk, turning to lead the way out of the living area onto the narrow awning-covered terrace along the boat's starboard side. Beth noticed her limp, now, one of her long legs not quite carrying her weight as well as the other.

"This might be so nice - having the river right outside your house," Beth sighed, leaning her forearms on the railing and looking out at the sluggish water. "I would kill for that - shorter commute, to start."

"Mm, well, it has its ups and downs, certainly," Robin said, resting her own hands on the railing.

"You sure those just aren't the waves from passing vessels?" Beth asked, glancing over at the other woman with an impish look.

"Hah, around here? I think you're the first one today. This isn't exactly an active stretch of water. Which is half the basis of its appeal, of course."

"And the other half?"

"The illusion that if I wanted to I could just cut the lines and float away?"

"Hm." Beth's expression changed, but it was hard to tell what she was thinking before she turned to look back at the water. "Speaking of which, I should probably get going - I've got a big stretch to cover before I pick up 'Vannah."

"Where does she go when you're working after school hours?"

"It, ah, depends... sometimes she stays with my sister, sometimes I get a sitter... sometimes she comes with me."

The ranger looked slightly apprehensive, as if waiting for Robin to criticize her again, but the teacher only nodded thoughtfully. "Your sister... Jenny, right?"

"Um, right. I think you and she were in the same class..."

"Right, yes - hers and Hank's, right from Kindergarten. Though we didn't have that many classes together in High School."

"And you weren't a cheerleader," Beth said with a smirk.

Robin chuckled at this. "Hah, no, I was on the field hockey team," she replied, shaking her head. "No cheerleading required."

"Hey, field hockey was one of the few sports I didn't do," the other woman remarked, looking surprised. "It clashed with [something]. Plus, those girls always scared me a little."

"Not just you, apparently - last I saw they cut the team altogether." Robin hesitated, then said, "I was about to offer you an iced tea, but you just said you had to get on, didn't you? I didn't mean to keep you, I apologise." With a wry smile she added, "Guess I can't be that bad a hermit after all, distracting folk from their work."

"Well, even Yogi had his visits with the ranger," Beth pointed out, grinning. She hesitated for a moment and then plowed forward, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. "Maybe I could come back around sometime, when I'm not working, and we could have that tea then."

Robin felt a number of emotions run through her at this suggestion - first surprise, then suspicion, then something like anticipation. "You don't have to butter me up, you know," she managed with a grin.

"What do y-- oh, because of Savannah, you mean? That's not... I didn't say that because of that. I thought this might be a separate thing from the whole parent... Teacher... Thing."

Robin was silent for a long moment as she deliberated, hoping that her dilemma wasn't visible on her face. Professionalism said she probably shouldn't court new friendships with her student's parents - existing friendships were one thing but this felt different. She knew, of course, that this was a ridiculous principle - in a town like Brookford there would be few folk with no connection whatsoever to some kid in her class. But then there was that stupid little crush, and she sure as hell didn't want to encourage that.

Glancing sidelong at Beth she realised then that the other woman was still looking at her, waiting for a response, her expression a mixture of apprehension and anticipation as she waited for a response, and eventually Robin nodded.

"That would be nice. Thanks. Sorry, I'm... I haven't really been seeing much of anyone since I got back."

"That's okay," Beth said briskly, appearing to spring into action now that the decision had been made. She tugged her hat down over her forehead, moving back inside in order to exit the interior of the houseboat. "Maybe Saturday? I've got the day off, I could drop by in the afternoon..."

"Sure, absolutely," Robin found herself saying immediately, "I'd like that. You can, uh, tell me all about what the preservation project's been up to since I volunteered back in my last summer before college."

"Oh, are you sure about that? It could take a while," Beth chuckled, flashing a grin over her shoulder at the other woman, who returned the grin automatically - the ranger had a very infectious smile.

"I'm sure I can make the time."

 

"Saturday? Really, honey? Isn't that a bit... weird?"

Beth rolled her eyes, pairing two socks together and tossing them into the waiting laundry basket as she balanced the phone between her shoulder and her ear. "You said it yourself, Jenny, she hardly seems to talk to anyone... she needs a friend - or at least someone to make the effort. What's wrong with that someone being me?"

"I don't know, I mean don't you think you, uh, stand out from the crowd enough?"

"Oh come on... like I care about that." She bristled slightly at Jenny's words but tried to shrug them off; like she needed a reminder of how 'weird' she already was. "Plus, she's nice. Maybe people will start to see that once she's gotten over her shyness."

"Oh, she's not shy - she was never shy," Jenny asserted. "She just thought she was above us all. Smarter, more individual, more cosmopolitan."

"Well, considering the last time you spoke to her was what - ten years ago? - and I had a chat with her today I think my opinion might count for something. I think she is shy, and she needs someone to reach out to her. And maybe she is smarter than us, but that's no reason not to associate with her."

There was a long silence. "Fine. Just don't let her get to you."

"Get to me? Jesus, Jenny, this isn't high school anymore!"

"No, I know it isn't, I wasn't... Never mind. I just... care about you, that's all. You're my baby sister."

Beth frowned, folding a t-shirt neatly into quarters with a practiced hand. "I know, but that doesn't mean you get to pick my friends. Last time I tried to do something just because it was the 'normal' thing to do it didn't work out so well. So just let me do my thing, okay?"

If anything, the reminder of Beth's choices regarding the father of her child seemed to make the silence on the other end of the phone chime louder still. Then she heard a sigh.

"All right, honey, all right. Just take care, 'kay?"

"Yeah, okay. G'night, Jen. Love you."

"You too."

 

"But I don't like Ms Macgregor!"

Clenching her teeth together for a moment, Beth counted to three and then forced a smile. "It won't be for very long, honey, and then we'll go do something fun, okay?"

Her daughter seemed unimpressed by this idea, but she was not by nature a whiny child, and although Beth had a feeling she hadn't heard the end of this complaint, Savannah seemed to decide that now was not the time.

Eventually Beth managed to sweep her into the pickup and drive the short distance to the babysitter's, promising to return soon to take Savannah out for ice cream. Thus unburdened, she turned her wheel towards the river, both excited and nervous about meeting up with Robin Davis, especially in her beautiful but tiny houseboat.

It was lunchtime, and the sun was at its hottest, so Beth was unsurprised to see that there was no sign of Robin outside, thin cotton curtains drawn across the windows along the side of the boat. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye and spotted a white and ginger [check, can't remember if I said a colour before] cat dart out from the foliage by the side of the canal and leap neatly up onto the boat.

She raised any eyebrow - she wouldn't have pegged Davis as a 'pet' person - and climbed out of her pickup, clearing her throat a bit nervously. "Um. Ms Davis?" she said loudly. "It's Beth. Strickland."

With her hand resting on one of the rails that edged the boat Beth could feel it shift just slightly, indicating that there was movement inside, and a few moments later Robin's head poked out around the curtains that hung over the entrance to the living area. Her hair, usually tied back, was loose, hanging nearly to her shoulders and rather artfully touseled, and she was wearing narrow wire-rimmed glasses that Beth had never seen before - presumably she usually wore contact lenses.

"I think we can use Robin now," she said with a slightly tired smile. "Sorry, I made the mistake of sitting down for five minutes about half an hour ago - must've dozed off. Don't worry though, lunch is all ready. Come on in."

Feeling yet more awkward still Beth climbed aboard - despite her determination to ignore Jenny's 'warning' she was beginning to wonder if she should have come.

Robin's home was very much the same as it had been the other day - simple, comfortable, neat and tidy. With the curtains drawn it was a little dimmer, although still easily light enough for any indoor activity. Robin, hobbling a little more heavily than Beth remembered, perhaps stiff from her nap, was making her way straight though the lounge to the galley, where she began opening cupboards and pulling out plates, glasses and forks for the two of them.

"You haven't eaten, have you? I usually just have salad at the weekend but I made up some cornbread and beans - well, you'll have guessed that already. That's the problem with one big living area, I guess," she added without waiting for a response to her previous question, "the whole place fills up with the smell of whatever you're cooking..." She trailed off, eyes meeting Beth's, and her expression relaxed into an apologetic smile. "Sorry," she said, one hand moving to roll up the sleeve of the thin cotten shirt she was wearing. "Like I said, not used to company. You'll want that iced tea I promised."

"That would be great," Beth said, glancing around for a moment before deciding she had better sit down. Taking a seat on the low sofa, she settled her hands on her knees and waited for a moment before rrealizing there was still an unanswered question hanging in the air. "And oh, um, no, I haven't eaten. Thanks."

"Right. Good." This seemed to set Robin at some ease, because when she brought over their iced teas, placing them on the coffee table before taking a seat next to Beth on the couch, she seemed largely back to her quieter, calmer self. "So how has your weekend been so far?"

"Oh, prett uneventful..." Beth picked up her glass, rolling it back and forth in her palms. "Savannah had her gymnastic lesson this morning, and then it was home to get her washed and fed and away to the sitter. Not very exciting, I'm afraid."

"A gymnast, huh?" Robin smiled at this. "Why does that not surprise me - no wonder she never wants to sit still."

"Well, she hasn't been doing it very long," Beth confided. "I think she only started because Paige was doing it - Paige Marshall? I think she has a bit of a crush on her," she added, chuckling.

Robin raised her eyebrows slightly at this, "Paige? Interesting... are they close? They don't really spend time together at school..."

"Well, no, they don't - I think it's a sort of admiring from afar thing," Beth grinned.

"I see. Well, Paige is a bright, good natured girl. Savannah could do worse than emulate her."

"I'm glad to hear that... It's so hard to know who's going to be a good influence," Beth sighed.

"Honestly I wouldn't worry about that," Robin said, shaking her head and smiling reassuringly. "She's got plenty of smarts and a strong moral compass. That'll keep her right in the end, whoever turns her head along the way." The teacher hesitated, then added, "You're obviously a good mom."

It was hard to tell under the tan, but it seemed almost as if Beth was blushing. "Um, thanks. But anyway... You probably have to think about kids all day - we should talk about something else. How has your weekend been? Done any more boat-work?"

"Hah, I'm always doing boat work," Robin said. She sipped her tea politely before leaning to replace it, barely touched, on the coffee table. "Although I have to admit I spent most of this morning reading," she added, nodding her head to a hitherto unnoticed object on the coffee table, some sort of e-reader although Beth wasn't au fait enough with the technology to know from looking at it what brand it was.

Or trying to read, Robin added silently. In truth, she'd spent most of the morning sitting staring into the space between her and the e-reader screen, mind wandering as she considered the impending visit from the park ranger that now sat beside her. She hadn't actually intended to make the corn bread that was now sitting in the still-warm oven - she had ended up doing so as a method of distraction.

"Well, isn't that what weekends are for?" At least, that was what Beth vaguely remembered... It had been some time since her weekends had been her own.

"Mm, I suppose... it took me a while to get used to this whole five day week thing," Robin said, sitting back again. "There's still a part of me that sees Saturday as just another day to get things done, y'know?"

"Well, I won't overstay my welcome," Beth joked, jiggling the ice in her glass against the sides.

"What? Oh, oh, no, no, I didn't mean it like that," Robin said, waving her hand and smiling a little sheepishly. She did sit forward now though, bracing herself against the arm of the chair and visibly taking her weight all on her good leg before pushing to her feet. "That being said I'd better fetch our food - hope you're hungry."

 

Beth wasn't sure what expectations she had had of the afternoon - or whether it was matching them. She couldn't seem to shake the slight feeling of nervousness, as if she was doing something she shouldn't, something that would have untold repercussions later, but it was hard to reconcile that with the pleasant chatting and delicious food they enjoyed.

As they ate, Robin, true to her word, began to quiz Beth about her work, enquiring into the status of the preservation project and even managing to ask some questions that impressed upon Beth her understanding of the context.

Beth loved her job, and she was more than happy to discuss it over salad and tea. She didn't really get to talk about it with many of her friends - converstaions with them were more taken up with town gossip, recipes, and complaints about unhelpful husbands or trying children. It wasn't the she didn't appreciate the 'mom network', but it was refreshing to be able to discuss something a bit less... Domestic.

Robin, though, despite her obvious interest in Savannah's welfare, seemed entirely disinterested in the humdrum day-to-day aspects of working motherhood, and Beth found herself going into considerable detail describing the various sites she was currently monitoring, the projects she had going, even her side interests and concerns for the future - some of which, she realised as she talked about it, she had actually never told anyone, not because they were secret or because she didn't enjoy talking about it but because nobody had ever actually shown an interest before today.

Eventually she sat back, her throat near parched from all the talking she had been doing, and gave the other woman an embarrassed smile. "I'm sorry, I've been chattering at you for much longer than I meant to - I swear I'm not normally so rude."

But Robin shook her head - although it only moved a little, as she had shifted to sit sideways on the couch, facing more toward Beth, and had ended up with her head cradled against her hand, elbow resting on the back cushions, as she observed the other woman in apparently rapt attention. "Not at all," she said, smiling gently. "I asked because I was interested. And it's a pleasure listening to you."

"You're sweet," Beth said with a smile, leaning forward to grab her glass, which was now mostly full of melted ice. She took a sip and then tipped the glass back until the lemon wedge slid down between her teeth.

Robin didn't mean to stare, but as the other woman bit down on the wedge before dragging it back out from between her lips free of flesh in one smooth, practised motion, she realised that not only was she staring but her own lips had parted slightly, her breathing, to her own ears at least, suddenly very audible in the quiet cabin.

Beth quickly noticed her staring but took a far different interpretation as to its reason. Ducking her head, she gave an embarrassed grin, reaching up to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Sorry, bad habit. I guess I forgot where I was for a moment."

"Don't be," Robin said immediately, hoping feverishly that her voice didn't sound as strange and husky to Beth as it did to her. "No standing on ceremony here. No room to, for a start," she added with an attempt at a smirk.

"Hah, well, sorry all the same. I know I shouldn't do it, my dentist says it's bad for my teeth, I just... can't help it, you know?" Beth cocked her head, noticing suddenly how pale Robin's eyes looked in the dim interior of the cabin. "It's like a compulsion."

Robin responded with another smile. "There are worse habits to have," she said.

"Oh, I'm sure I've got some of those as well," Beth laughed. "What about you? Any bad habits, dental or otherwise?"

"Plenty," Robin said with a chuckle. "But I'll maintain my air of mystery for a little longer if you don't mind," she evaded neatly.

Beth pursed her lips, looking almost as if she had taken a bite of the lemon (now resting back in her glass). She narrowed her eyes at the other woman but said nothing, and a moment later she was smiling sunnily again. "That was a wonderful lunch. Thank you so much. I can't remember the last time somebody cooked for me... besides Jenny, but her meals tend to be a little more... homey."

"Hey now, cornbread is homey!"

"Well, yeah, but it's not... I don't know, stodgy?" Beth felt a pang of guilt as she said it, but truth be told she was more than a little tired of her sister's endless array of filling casseroles and fried foods.

"Ah," Robin said with an understanding nod. "The sort of person who would've looked askanse at our nice bean salad."

"Unless it was coated in cornflakes and skillet-fried," the ranger said, mockingly mournful.

Robin laughed, eyes twinkling, suddenly a little blue to their grey. "Well, you come round here any time you need a nice light snack, then," she said with a grin.

Beth felt a delighted twist in her belly - it looked like making
friends with Robin Davis wasn't going to be so challenging after all. "Well, I'm supposed to be having dinner at hers tomorrow... maybe I'll have to stop by afterwards just to clear my arteries," she joked, leaning back in her seat.

"Any time. You know how to find me."

For some reason Beth wasn't quite sure what to say to this; as a result, an awkward silence stretched out between them, punctuated only by the nearly imperceptible rocking of the boat and the swish of the breeze through the live oak along the banks. After too long she cleared her throat and shifted, looking at her watch in an exaggerated motion. "Dear me, look at the time... Savannah's probably wondering where I am..."

Robin's eyebrows raised slightly at the transparent exit strategy, but she didn't argue, only pushing stiffly to her feet. "Yes, of course, sorry. I didn't mean to keep you here nattering so long."

"No, no, it's fine," Beth said, rising as well. "I've had a really nice time. I really enjoyed myself." She caught Robin's eye, wanting to impress on her he truth of this statement, though she wasn't quite sure why it was so important that she did. "Really. It's been great."

The other woman nodded, still looking a little bemused but clearly rather flattered. "Well, like I say. Any time. I'll... see you again soon, no doubt."

"Of course. I'd like that."

 

The sound of Beth's pickup safely retreated, Robin hobbled back inside to clear up the dishes from lunch, her mind playing over the visit. All in all, it had gone better than she expected - her lunch had been well-received, they had never run out of things to talk about and, the lemon incident aside, she hadn't made a fool out of herself.

The fact that this also meant she was well on her way to being completely besotted with the park ranger was something she tried not to dwell on. It was difficult, though, with the scent of her still lingering on the pillows and the partially-chewed lemon sitting, forgotten, in the glass. As briskly as she could she tidied things away, pushing away thoughts of Beth's white, even smile, the animated way she spoke about her work, and the shrewd way she had sometimes looked at Robin as if trying to see past the niceties and evasions to something else.

You really don't want to do that, gorgeous, she found herself thinking as that calculating gaze flickered back through her mind. Let this be what it is.

"...and we just... chatted, for a while. It was really nice." Beth glanced over her shoulder, holding the dirty plate aloft over the sink as she looked down at her sister. "I don't know what you were so worried about. She's very sweet."

Jenny frowned, but said nothing. She'd been strangely silent whenever Robin's name had been mentioned throughout dinner - and it had been more than once, as it happened, as Beth had often had occasion to talk about her over their course of their meal, for one reason or another.

"Anyway," Beth said, turning back to the sink, "I was thinking of inviting her to the next volunteer round-up - she seemed really interested in some of the stuff we're doing, and she'd be a great asset..."

"You don't think she has enough to do, what with teaching and that ramshackle boat?"

"Well, maybe, but that's why I'd ask her... she's free to say no. But I thought maybe doing something that involved meeting other people might be nice for her. They're a really nice crowd."

"Mm, I suppose they would be." Jenny was very good at expressing low level disapproval through tone, no matter what she was saying. Beth was reasonably confident that she wasn't fond of the volunteering group because they were largely made up of young people in their late teens and early twenties based in what she called 'Brookford proper' - the larger town of which their little more or less self-contained community was ostensibly a part, but due to being divided from one another by the canal the two populations seemed to share little other than a name and an out-of-town outlet mall.

Rolling her eyes at her reflection in the window before her, Beth rinsed off the plate and leaned over to put in in the dishwasher. "I don't know, I just get the feeling that she's hiding away from everything and I think it's kind of sad. She's so nice, and I'm sure she'd find a niche in no time if she just gave it a try..." She wasn't sure why she continued babbling on about Robin when Jenny obviously didn't want to talk about her; maybe it was a combination of wanting to annoy her older sister and putting voice to some of the thoughts that had been running almost constantly through her head since the day before in the hopes that they might quieten down.

"Well, I'm glad you're taking an interest, then," Jenny said carefully, immediately setting Beth wondering what she was up to now. "Maybe you're right," she went on, "maybe she'll make some friends among the volunteers."

"Mm, maybe. We'll see." Beth fell silent, running a few glasses under the tap and then lining them up on the top shelf of the dishwasher. Part of her wanted to introduce Robin to some of the volunteer rangers - she knew that there were at least a few enthusiastic young things who would probably get along well with the teacher, if only because they got along well with just about anybody. There was another part, however, that flared up with jealousy at the idea of farming her out to other people. Beth had, after all, just made the first tentative overtures of friendship, and she wasn't sure she wanted to plunge Robin into that situation before she got the chance to get to know her a little better herself.

Furthermore she got the distinct impression that that was exactly what Jenny was implying she should do - that she should see Robin safely into a little group of friends and leave Beth to her own life. Beth just couldn't see what it was about Robin that Jenny seemed to object so strenuously to, but then, perhaps it was just sisterly possessiveness, nothing more.

"There," she said, wiping her hands on a dishtowel after putting the last of the silverware into the dishwasher and turning to face her sister. "All done. How are you for everything else? You need anything from the garage? Want me to put a load of laundry on before I go?"

"You get on home, honey," Jenny said, shaking her head. "I'll manage just fine."

"Okay... but you give me a call if you need anything, okay? And make sure Henry puts the boys to bed, not you."

"Sure, sure," her sister said with a wave of her hand. "Go on home. Get outta here - you take care on that road now."

After giving her sister a kiss on the cheek Beth went to gather up her daughter from her spot on the floor, surrounding by her cousins' vast collection of Legos. Savannah protested but was eventually persuaded to return home, where she and her mother read several stories before finally heading off to sleep. Lying on the bed, her daughter curled up against her as she drifted to sleep, Beth remembered Robin's words from the day before. "You're obviously a good mom." Not a lot of people were so forthcoming with that opinion, critical as they were of her lack of husband and sometimes demanding job, and she felt a warm swell of happiness remembering it.

 

Robin stocked up regularly, but with limited storage and nearly non-existant freezer space, she still found herself picking up groceries on a pretty regular basis.

Today she had planned to head to the hardware store first to pick up some more emery paper, but a familiar vehicle parked in the lot outside the supermarket made her change her plans. A chance meeting, that's all, she told herself as she pulled her battered station wagon into a space near Beth's. What could be more innocent than that?

She didn't have far to look, as it turned out - upon entering the store she spotted Beth hunkered down in the vegetable aisle, several different fruits spread out on top of the basket in front of her. Savannah was next to her, inspecting them solemnly, and as Robin watched she could see that they were talking to one another, apparently discussing the orange that Beth had picked up a moment before.

"I dunno, Mom, I think maybe a more orangy orange is better than a bigger orange..." Robin heard as she approached, and she smiled to herself at the young girl's solemn, considered tone as she made her observation.

"Quality over quantity is always the way to go," she said, bending a little to grin at Savannah as she looked up, though she didn't crouch next to them.

The girl blinked disbelievingly, as if shocked to see Robin there. The teacher barely noticed, however, due to the grin that Beth gave upon sighting her. "Rob- Ms Davis! How nice to see you! Savannah and I were just debating citrus - and I can see I'm outnumbered now."

"Oh, you're a bigger is better kinda gal, are you?" Robin said, raising her eyebrows in amusement as the silly innuendo went entirely over Savannah's head and the seven year old nodded vigorously.

"She likes really big oranges, and she always picks the biggest grapefruits even though they taste bitterer."

"More bitter," her mother and her teacher said in unison, and the glance they shared did things to Robin that she was ashamed to think about in front of a seven year old child.

"Well, maybe we'll compromise and get some of each," Beth decided, standing and hefting the basket from the floor. "That way everyone will be happy."

Savannah seemed happy with this compromise and consequently lost interest entirely. "What are you doing here, Ms Davis?"

Robin smiled down at her and gestured to her basket (although in her eagerness to find Beth she'd barely put anything into it). "Same thing as you two, I imagine."

"Oh." The girl seemed to consider the fact that teachers needed to eat like regular human beings, eventually she nodded her satisfaction. "Okay. But you don't have very much food yet."

"Well, I just got here."

"Oh. What are you looking for? I can show you where it is - I know where everything is."

"It's true, you know. And a little frightening," Beth said then, chuckling. "Half the aisles we don't even go in, and yet..."

"Well then," Robin said, reaching into her jeans pocket for her list. "Maybe you can help me get everything on my list. That is, if you and your mom are done..." Robin glanced back at Beth now, eyebrows raised in question.

"Yeah, we're done," Savannah stated; Beth merely grinned and shrugged, inclining her head in assent.

"Okay, 'Vannah, lead the way..."

 

"So how was dinner with your sister?" Robin asked quietly as the pair waited at the end of an aisle for Savannah to return with cat biscuits. It turned out that not only did she know where everything was, she clearly wanted to prolong the novelty of spending time with her favourite teacher outside of school by insisting that her mother and Robin remain at the ends of the relevant aisles while she ran back and forth fetching Robin's groceries, one by one, in a solemn and dogged if rather unpractical manner.

"Oh, it was fine," Beth replied with a shrug and a smile, turning to glance at the other woman. "Y'know... the usual. There was sweet potato pie." Her wrinkled nose clearly showed what she thought of the overly-sweet dessert.

Robin looked mildly amused. "I'll have to make you my key lime sorbet," she said. "That's got plenty of bite to it."

Beth let out a soft moan, casting her eyes skywards momentarily. "That sounds amazing..."

The other woman looked away quickly lest Beth caught her expression. Eyes tightly closed for a moment, she didn't notice Savannah's return until she heard her chirrup, "Got them! I got the biggest bag, like you said." She looked down to see the girl clasping a rather large bag of catfood in both arms, chin lifted proudly.

"Maybe we should've gotten a buggy," Beth chuckled, leaning down to relieve Savannah of the bag. "So, what's next?"

"I... think we're done," Robin said, sounding surprised and perhaps a shade disappointed?

The brunette raised her eyebrows and smiled, shifting the cat food in her arms. "Well then. I guess it's time to check out for both of us." At Robin's nod they began to head for the checkout aisles; when they were nearly there Beth stopped it her tracks, making a noise of frustration. "You know what? I completely forgot - we're nearly out of TP. Savannah, honey, will you run and get some for me?"

The girl nodded and skipped off towards the back of the store, leaving the two women alone to begin loading their items onto the belt. It was then that Beth spoke up. "You know, Robin, I was thinking... we should do something again soon. If you're free, I mean."

Glancing behind her in Savannah's direction, Robin's expression was a little curious when she turned it back on her friend. Had Beth just gotten rid of her daughter to suggest they see one another again? Nevertheless...

"That would be really great," Robin said with a smile and a nod.

"Savannah's at gymnastics on Thursday night - maybe we could grab a coffee or something in town?"

Town. She knew there'd be a catch. But she nodded again. "Absolutely. The Spoon?"

"Sounds great. I can be there around... six thirty?"

"That works just fine for me."

"Perfect." Beth grinned, then ducked her gaze studious to her basket as Savannah returned with an eight-pack of toilet paper, which she plopped onto the conveyor belt with an accomplished thud. "Honey, say goodbye to Ms Davis - until you see her tomorrow, at least."

"Good bye Ms Dav-is," Savannah said in a sing-song voice, then giggled at her own silliness.

Robin smiled down at her. "Good bye Savannah, see you tomorrow."

"Goodbye, Ms Davis," Beth echoed, and then, as Robin looked up at her, she mouthed 'See you Thursday'.

And with another smile and nod, they each went on their way - Robin, belatedly, on to the hardware store, and Beth back to her house, where she unpacked her groceries while Savannah twirled around the kitchen proclaiming how exciting that afternoon's trip had been.

"It was really fun seeing Ms Davis! Do you think her cat will eat all that cat food? What if a muskrat gets it instead? What will her cat eat then?"

"I'm sure it'll be fine, honey," Beth said distractedly, her thoughts still caught on the moment she had opened her eyes to catch Robin's expression in the grocery aisle, her lower lip caught between her teeth, her eyes tightly closed as if in pain. She couldn't imagine what had caused that reaction, but somehow it only served to intrigue her more.

 

Dec 13 - Mendoza

Permits, fuel, food etc. Took bus to permit office - closed all weekend! Could cost two days - not impressed. Found climbing shop and bought new ice axe.

Dec 14 - Mendoza to Puenta del Inca

Mentioned to climbing shop owner (Jose) that I hadn't been able to get a permit. He offered to get me to Pt Inca and sort out the permits later with the authorities back in Mendoza while I head into the Vaca valley. Then he said I needed to be ready in 15 minutes as he was taking a Brazilian party up there and we would get on that ride.

2 hour ride - overtook several trucks and a bike race on the way - scared the hell out of 50+ cyclists. Arrived in Los Pouqitos (10 minutes walk from Pt Inca). Solid wind here, but quite warm and clear, blue sky. Fewer climbing groups than expected, think I'm the only one setting off on the Polish Glacier route. Wonder if any other teams will be in base camp or en route - quite unnerving if I'm the only one there!

Wandered some - had a poke around hot-spring buildings under the natural bridge. Sulfur left coat covered in stains. Visited mountaineer's cemetary - right next to camp. Very sobering experience.

Got to Pt Inca for the evening and decided to eat at the hotel. Met two old guys sitting and eating their dinner - Norwegean and British They've attempted the PG route three times but never made it. This year they're going the Normal Route. Norwegean repeatedly warned about the cold weather up there, putting it quite dramatically - "The Cold is the Killer!" Lying listening to the wind now, have a feeling am going to have that bouncing around my head all night.

 

Robin flipped the notebook shut, tossing it down onto the coffee table and sitting back with a sigh, her hand going automatically to grip her thigh. Closing her eyes she could almost feel it now, even in this humid, oppressive heat - the cold, seeping through flesh and bone until she'd felt like she'd never be warm again, the sensation of her extremeties freezing, bit by bit, the near-certainty that there were parts of her own body she had felt for the last time.

As if belying her thoughts she felt a thud against her shin; looking down she saw the orange and white tom staring balefully up at her.

"Hey yourself," she murmured, sitting forward and reaching to scratch behind his ears. "Whatsup? Don't even try to pretend you're hungry..."

If a cat could shrug, he would have. Flicking his tail, he knocked some of the ungraded papers from the coffee table, scattering them over the floor with a satisfied expression, before jumping onto the table and sitting squarely on what was left of the pile.

Robin couldn't help it - she began to laugh. The mood that had fallen over her was broken and she felt herself begin to thaw. It didn't hurt that tomorrow was her coffee date with Beth - which wasn't a date at all, she hastened to remind herself. But that didn't mean she wasn't allowed to look forward to it, and after all, they had so much in common and got on so well that even if Beth was 'playing the same field' she would have thought twice before attempting to change their budding friendship in a way that might affect that.

In any case, the worst of her bad mood had vanished, and she resolved that she would have a pleasant evening after all.

 

The Silver Spoon might once have been named for being upscale and elite, but these days it was just another coffee place, albeit a very good one - well-appointed, well-air-conditioned (vital), and serving coffee that was to Beth's mind several orders of magnitude better than that of the new Starbucks that had finally found its way over the canal to the smaller part of Brookford.

She had actually arrived early, for once, finding a spot near the back and settling down to wait less-than-patiently. She had dressed carefully and actually tried to do something different with her hair, though she wasn't quite sure if she had succeeded in looking as sophisticated as she hoped.

Not that Robin ever seemed to take care with her appearance, per se - even when they had first met at the parent conference she'd been just been wearing jeans and a long sleeved tee, her hair tied out of the way in a careless ponytail. But then, and even in her houseboat waking up from a nap, casual, barefoot and touseled, she always seemed 'put together' somehow, effortlessly coordinated. Perhaps it was just the air of quiet confidence she had - barring that brief period of nerves when Beth had visited at the weekend. Certainly now, as Beth looked up to see her entering the coffee house, her fitted button-down shirt and ever-present boot-cut jeans looked like they could have been personally tailored (although she was sure they hadn't been), sitting perfectly on her shoulders and hips.

She scanned the room until she caught Beth's eye and nodded in greeting, gesturing toward the bar before turning toward it to give her order. She walked with a stick today - Savannah had told Beth that when the weather was damper she often had one with her at school, although she didn't always use it and certainly in class was more likely to hobble back and forth using it as a pointer or prop than as a walking aid. Today she was leaning on it with each step that put weight on her bad leg, though she hung it on the edge of the counter to peruse the pastries while waiting for her coffee.

Beth smiled as the other woman eventually approached, smoothing her hands over the skirt of her light sundress and half-rising from her seat. "Hey - you made it."

Placing her coffee cup on the table, Robin shot Beth a returning smile before gingerly maneuvering herself into the seat opposite. "You look very nice," she said, her wording strangely formal, through her tone was friendly enough.

"Oh, um, thanks," Beth replied, her hand going self-consciously to her hair. "So do you."

Robin almost argued - she didn't feel nice today. I feel like I should just give in and pull on a sack and start ringing the bells down at the church. Still, she only smiled again, lifting her coffee cup to her lips for a careful sip. "How was work?"

"Oh, you know... Full of snakes."

"Run into any of those escaped pet pythons, yet?" Robin said with a smirk. "Or are they as real as the New York albino sewer gators?"

"Oh, no, they're very real - and most of the time they've been released, not escaped," Beth said, making a face. "They get too big and people don't know what to do with them, so they dump them in the swamp, which is no good for anybody."

"Wow." Robin nodded, and Beth was again struck by the way she seemed to be genuinely interested. "I found a dead snake in the plumbing when I first got the boat," she said then. "Man was I glad I checked it before just using it... Not a python, mind, just a water snake."

"Still, you wouldn't want to meet one of those on a late-night bathroom run," Beth chuckled. "I'm pretty fearless and I think that might even make me scream."

"There are worse things to find in your bathroom - trust me," Robin said with some authority. "You haven't lived until you've looked up from peeing to see a deathstalker scorpion on your wall."

The ranger raised her eyebrows, looking suitably shocked. "I can imagine. Where was that? So I can know never to go there," she added, grinning.

"That was in Mali, with the Peace Corps, what, twelve years ago now? God..."

"You were in the Peace Corps? Wow, that's incredible. How was it? What sort of projects did you work on? Did you go anywhere besides Mali?" For a moment Robin was struck by the similarities between Beth and her daughter, mainly in their boundless curiosity and enthusiasm when a subject caught their attention, and she found it irresistably infectious, a grin spreading across her own face.

"I, uh..." She hesitated slightly, suddenly unable to remember anything as she took in the sparkling eyes and rapt expression on the face of the woman before her, all of which made her look prettier than ever. "I was also in Burkina Faso and Senegal for a bit - in Mali I was working on an irrigation project but then I started teaching. And then when I was done in the Corps I did some TOEFL teaching in Asia."

"Wow, that's amazing. I always wanted to do that, work on an environmental project with them."

"Well, it's probably not so different to what you're doing here... I mean, not that that's a reason not to do it. I'm just sayin'."

The expression of wistfulness resolved into something more content, and Robin felt a surge of warmth knowing she had caused it. "Gosh, you're right. I like the way you think, honey, it's very reassuring."

Was Beth imagining that the other woman's cheeks had flushed, just slightly? "Well, I've learned to be a pragmatist, of late," she said quietly. "You've got to see the good in what you have."

"Well, it's a good way to be. Though it might be hard to remember next time I'm wrestling with another ten-foot python," Beth said with a chuckle. "But I'll try."

"And hey, what would you do without Savannah?" Robin added. "Not much time for kids, saving the planet in parts unknown. Seems to me you got the best of both worlds."

"As hard as it is to try and fit the two together sometimes, yeh, you're right." Beth smiled and tipped her head to one side, considering the other woman in thoughtful silence.

Robin let said silence stretch out between them, meet Beth's eyes with a smile of her own, her expression hinting very little as to what was going on beneath. Eventually she said. "Well, whatever you're thinking about is clearly fascinating, or at least more interesting than me. Want to share?"

"Oh, I don't know, it's silly really..."

"I teach seven year olds. I know silly. Try me."

"I was just thinking... how nice it was having a friend I could talk to about stuff like this," Beth said with a shy smile. "Life, and the past and all... Anything other than dirty diapers and Desperate Housewives, really. And yes, I know how lame that makes me sound."

That slight note shy note creeping into Robin's expression again, she shook her head. "I don't think that sounds lame at all. And hey," she added, "I know lame too."

Beth paused for a moment, obviously torn as to how to respond to this self-deprecating jab, but in the end she let out a surprisingly girlish giggle and reached for her coffee mug. "You really are too sweet - which is weird because usually I don't like sweet."

"Sweet potato pie, I remember."

"Exactly," Beth grinned. "So what about you - anything you just can't stand?"

Robin's eyes slid from Beth's, her instinct to evade sharing anything of herself kicking in, and Beth truly thought she was going to be shut down again, but then the older woman seemed to come to some sort of decision, looking back to her companion. "I don't like being pinned down. Guess that's a no-brainer, huh?" She chuckled dryly. "But that's my big thing, so..."

"Have you always felt that way?" Beth asked curiously, knowing shouldn't continue to pry but unable to help herself.

"Well, there are other ways of escaping," Beth reasoned, knowing this time she did go too far but continuing anyway out of some strange compulsion. Like hermiting away from everyone."

Robin's brow furrowed slightly at this. "I know you're new to the whole friends thing, but friends don't mount interventions on the second date, mm?" Her tone was still gentle, but it carried with it a warning.

Beth's cheeks stained a deep, dark red and she ducked her head, murmuring her apologies. Nervously she played with the strap of her dress, seemingly unable to meet Robin's eyes. "I... should probably go pick up Savannah," she mumbled to the table.

"Hey, no lying to the woman with the after-school schedule, either," Robin said with a wry smile. "We both know she isn't done yet. Listen..." She hesitated, then slid her hand out across the table, her knuckles brushing Beth's ostensibly to bring her attention back.

But Beth jerked away, giving a quick shake of her head and beginning to gather up her things. "No, sorry, I really should go. I'll... talk to you later. Sorry."

Now Robin, previously only mildly perturbed, was now frowning properly, though she pulled her hand back. "Beth, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to-"

"Goodbye, Robin." And with that, Beth stood and left the coffee shop, still redfaced and clutching her purse tightly in both hands.

Robin didn't even try to follow - if Beth wanted to get away, she was in no position to stop her. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, but she carefully dabbed them away, her back to the rest of the coffee house, before pushing carefully to her feet and making her own way back to her car. So. That's that, then.

 

The next few days passed much as they once had - Robin taught at the school and retreated back to her houseboat for the rest of her time, scraping and painting and staring at her old journals with barely-repressed rage and sorrow. Beth shepherded Savannah to school, to her lessons, to the after-school math club, and worked every other waking moment; when she wasn't, she was round at her sister's, making sure that chores were done and the boys were looked after while Jenny waited to pop.

Unbidden, the incident in the coffee house played over in both their heads, a background noise to each day. Robin still couldn't understand why what she'd thought was a gentle chiding had had such a profound - and negative - effect. Beth, on the other hand, knew exactly why it had hit the notes it had, but couldn't dwell on it for too long before feeling sick to her stomach. Jenny caught her in a particularly pensive mood one night as she swept the floor of the kitchen - well, she had started sweeping, but she had drifted off in the middle of it and was now leaning against the counter, frowning deeply to herself.

"Oh, honey, what's wrong?" Jenny approached to rest a hand on her younger sister's back. "You've been down for days."

Beth blinked, then wet her lips and shook her head dismissively. "No, no, it's nothing... I think it's the weather," she lied. "Can't seem to sleep at night right now."

"Oh come on, li'l sis, you can't fool me. There's something bugging you."

"It's not important," Beth insisted, pushing away from the counter and pushing the broom idly over the floor. In truth she didn't want to give Jenny the satisfaction of knowing that her warnings might have been apt - if not for whatever strange reason her sister thought, then because of Beth's own baggage.

Jenny folded her arms. Or rather, she made to fold her arms, then realised how impractical that was, and left them by her sides. "Fine," she said. "But you sort it out, all right? Whatever it is. 'Vannah needs you firing on all cylinders. And so do I."

Beth smiled wanly at her sister. "Of course, honey. I will."

 

Dec 28

Started the day with an early breakfast, packed for camp 1 and started climbing at 9am. Arrived at camp1 at 1pm. Weather bad - strong wind and blowing snow. Lots of a fresh snow at camp 1 already. Have decided to get to Plaza Argentina as quickly as possible. Took only 1hr20 to get down - a bit too fast as developed headache. Rest and Ibuprofen helped. Had dinner at the outfitters and am ready to move to camp 1 tomorrow.

Dec 29

Weather improved overnight, pressure up. Have moved to camp 1. Also Italians, Mexicans and Chileans moved up. Two of the Chilean group have symptoms of altitude sickness, and have decided to descend back to Plaza Argentina. The rest of the group have lost confidence and decided to take the False Polish route instead. Same with Mexicans, so it's just me and the four Italians. Two people have been evacuated with Pulmonary Edema, one late 40s Alaskan man and one Russian Canadian in his late 20s. Side note: apparently helicopter rescue is free; $200 climbing fee covers the rescue insurance.

 

Not that she'd expected to need it. Robin took another sip of her beer - she generally needed at least two before she'd even go near this particular journal. She'd been so confident that she knew her limits - she was fitter than she'd ever been before in her life, she was completely in tune with her body. It wasn't that nothing could go wrong - something could always go wrong, otherwise what was the point? Why leave the climbing wall? But Robin knew she could do this.

 

Dec 30

Developed severe nasal congestion during the night and got no sleep at all. Suspect Aerosinusitis - dried blood and mucus. Too tired to proceed to camp Polacos 2. Perfect day, v annoyed to miss a beautiful day's climbing, but at least it's longer to acclimatize for summit day. Chatted to some other climbers, brushed up on my Italian and Spanish.

 

From outside she heard the sound of an outboard motor - not that remarkable except for the fact that it shut down not long after rounding the bend in the river. She could hear the sound of the boat drifting closer and then, an unexpected voice. "Robin?"

With the curtains drawn and no music playing or lights on, there was a long moment during which Robin considered pretending not to be home - she was in absolutely no state for visitors. Bordering on tearful and slightly buzzed in the late afternoon was not a way you wanted to meet with one of your pupils' parents, and Beth Strickland had made it very clear with her silence over the past few days - hell, the best part of a week now - that teacher and parent was all they were to be. Still, she'd come here, hadn't she? She could easily just have passed on by...

"I'm here."

There was the sound of someone standing, and Beth cleared her throat. "Can I... could you come out here? I need to talk to you."

Robin thought about pointing out that Beth was the one with two perfectly good legs, and if she wanted to talk she could be the one to move, but she didn't. Pushing to her feet and grabbing for her stick she made her way out onto the open deck that ran round the side of the boat.

Beth looked about as crappy as Robin felt - her normally-shiny chestnut hair was pulled back in a scraggly bun, and there were dark circles under her eyes where Robin was sure there hadn't been before. She was wearing her ranger's uniform, though it had a large smear of what looked like mud across one side of it, and damp patches across her thighs. "Hi. I'm sorry to make you get up," she said, balancing easily in the small boat. "I just... had some things I needed to say to you and I wanted to say them to your face."

Bracing herself on the railing with one hand Robin ran the other wearily across her face. "Look, I'm sorry that I upset you," she said, her voice heavy with resignation. "I obviously came off harsher than I meant, but please, I haven't got-"

"No, just - stop. Please." Beth's voice was trembling, but her tone was resolute. "It's me that should be apologizing. I overstepped my bounds by a lot and I'm sorry for that. When I pushed you, you pushed back, and that's... fine. It's okay. You shouldn't have to apologize for that. I don't know what got into me to make me say the stuff I did but I'm sorry, and I swear I won't do it again."

Robin blinked. "I, uh. All right. I mean, great, that's fine, but really..." She hesitated. There was something about this that didn't track but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. "It really wasn't that big a deal. I wasn't mad at the time, just slightly taken aback. You know that, right? I was only... drawing a line. I wasn't angry with you."

"I know. I know." Beth gave a heavy sigh; the boat rocked slightly. "Listen, Robin, I have some... bad habits left over from the last relationship I was in, and sometimes I do stupid things because of them. I shouldn't have walked out like I did, I was just having one of those moments. And then I let it stew, and I didn't want to come here in case you were angry, and... that's why it's taken me so long to apologize. I wish I had earlier."

Robin wasn't sure what to say about this, albeit mostly because of where a tiny section of the back of her mind went to when Beth completely innocently compared their friendship to a past romantic attachment, albeit an unhealthy one. Eventually she just shook her head. "I'm not angry. If I'm angry I'll tell you, 'kay? You can always trust me to be honest with you." Well, with the exception of one or two lies of omission... She cleared her throat. "Are you on duty?" she asked. "I was having a beer..."

Beth glanced at her watch and seemed surprised by what she saw, looking up and biting her lip. "Um, sure. Just let me tie this up."

Robin returned inside, mind reeling a little for all that the alcohol buzz was keeping her exterior fairly mellow. She had been nearly used to the idea that maybe she was just meant to be alone, without even a friend or confidant - if someone as sweet-natured and smart as Beth couldn't put up with her, there was sure as hell no one else in this town who would.

But here she was again, inviting her into her little haven to stir things up. Even with a friend, it seemed, you were taking on all of someone - their foibles and flaws and insecurities as well as their conversation and their smiles. She was sure that she had managed to have one without the other once upon a time, friends who met to chat and drink and argue but not to bear their souls, whether accidentally or by design. Either Beth wasn't wired that way, or that wasn't what she wanted.

Robin didn't know what she wanted. She certainly knew there were parts of herself that she most certainly couldn't share, least of all with Beth herself. Did that mean they were doomed before they started?

If Beth had any intention of baring her soul now she certainly didn't show it, climbing aboard the boat after tying up her own and then coming to sit nervously on the sofa while Robin hobbled to the galley to get her a beer. She had obviously made an effort to tidy her appearance before coming inside, scraping her hair back into a neater ponytail and brushing off her rumpled uniform but she still looked a stark contrast to the woman Robin had met for coffee the week before in her sundress and sandals.

"Hard day?" Robin asked eventually, breaking the silence as she made her way back to the couch, bottles clasped by the neck in one hand while she used the other to support herself on various pieces of furniture to help her across the room - her stick was abandoned once more at the doorway.

"Hm? Oh, yeh, I guess so," Beth replied, bobbing her head in a nod. "Found some people dumping where they shouldn't have been and it got a bit heated. Had to call in back-up."

"Sounds messy." Robin passed Beth a bottle before sitting down onto the couch beside her, a quiet sigh escaping her lips as she took the weight off her leg. She reached for her last bottle and knocked back the dregs before replacing on the coffee table before relaxing back against the couch.

"It was, a bit. And thanks." The ranger contemplated the bottle for a moment before taking a conservative sip and then resting it on her knee, cupped tightly in one hand. "How was your day?"

"Mm, long," Robin said with a weak smile. "Sill waiting for that storm."

Beth looked relieved as the conversation dipped into weather. "It's been building for a while, hasn't it? I can't believe it hasn't broken yet."

"Wish it would get a move on - want to get back off this stick."

"I'm sure it will soon. Might even be tonight, by the looks of it."

"Well, you're the ranger, I'll take your word for it."

Beth shrugged and took another sip of her beer. "I'm only guessing. Don't sue me if I'm wrong."

Robin chuckled. "Well, that foils my plans, then."

"Sorry to disappoint you." Beth smiled, her eyes flicking to the journals lying on the coffee table. She seemed to realize that they were off-topic as a talking point, however, and she soon drew her gaze away, back to Robin's face. "Savannah's really enjoying the lessons this week. She hasn't stopped talking about [some project] all week."

"She enjoys any project where she gets to go outside," Robin said with a chuckle. "Clearly her mother's daughter," she added.

"I'm so glad - I don't know what I'd do if I was stuck with a girly-girl who hated getting dirty and thought bugs were gross."

"Loved her just the same, I expect."

Beth gave the first hint of a genuine smile since she had arrived, dropping her gaze to her bottle again. "I guess so."

"I'm pretty sure some of the other mothers are a little put out by having to wash the kids' clothes more often," Robin said. "Hard to stay clean when they're rampaging around the grounds like that."

"Well, I have to wash my own pretty often," came the reply as Beth gestured to the smear of mud on her own shirt. "It wouldn't be very fair of me to resent having to do the same for Savannah."

Robin smirked a little, then did a double take as she surveyed the extend of the mud spatters, and the ginger way Beth was having to sit to avoid getting grime on her light coloured upholstry. "Speaking of which, I'm being rude," she said, sitting forward a little. "I should fetch you a different shirt to wear home, that one must be so uncomfortable."

"No, no, it's fine, I'm used to it," Beth protested. "Don't get up." But Robin had already pushed to her feet.

"Sure you're used to it but that doesn't make it fun," Robin said, "and besides, it's better if I move around a bit from time to time."

Beth began to insist that it really wasn't necessary but her hostess had already started limping towards the berth at the far end of the cabin where she kept a tiny wardrobe tucked against the wall. She returned a minute later with a tank top in hand, explaining "It's so humid, I thought it might be better than a t-shirt. The bathroom's that way if you want..."

The ranger accepted the top and there was a moment of awkward maneuvering as she stood to move towards the bathroom and Robin attempted to take a seat; they ended up coming within inches of each other as Beth slipped by, and as she did so Robin caught the scent of sunscreen and sweat mixed with the underlying scent of soap and skin and she had to stifle a slight gasp at her own reaction. She sat down quickly - more quickly than her leg would have like as it protested strongly, but she barely noticed, concentrating on willing her face not to flush as Beth made her way into the tiny room to change.

She emerged a moment later with the folded-up ranger's shirt in her hand; while Robin was certainly taller than Beth, she was not nearly as buxom and what she had thought would be a loose-fitting shirt was actually quite close on her. Not that it was a bad look, per se, but it was yet another distraction that she sorely did not need. "Thanks," Beth said, smiling self-consciously as she returned to the couch once again. "That's much better."

Robin, swallowing, nodded. "No problem," she said, her beer suddenly requiring a lot of her attention.

"So do you have any plans for the rest of the week?" Beth asked, for lack of anything better to discuss.

"Oh, at this rate not a whole lot, I don't think," Robin said, glancing over, although her eyes didn't reach Beth's face and she looked quickly back to her bottle. "Got some admin to catch up on, guess I'll do that."

"Sounds good."

"Well, it's not wrestling pythons, but we can't all live a life of excitement," the other woman quipped.

Beth chuckled. "I guess not."

Robin sat back on the couch, struggling to relax her body as her mind wound itself into further knots. She was definitely beginning to regret this beer idea. She had hoped that they'd just slip back into their former easy conversation, but now that she was sitting here she couldn't remember what they'd talked about for so long. Usually she'd ask a question and just sit back and listen but Beth, usually so full of anecdotes and sidetracks, today seemed to have little to say at all, and the less she said, the more Robin found herself dwelling just on her presence - her smooth, even features, her strong, bronzed arms, her toned, curvaceous figure... she cleared her throat again. "So. How's the river clean-up going? You said you had volunteers starting this week?"

"Oh, um, yeh," the ranger said, nodding again. "We've picked a stretch - from [x] to [y] - and all the supplies are prepped... I'm going to give an introduction and a bit of training on Saturday and get them away and working. It should be good - we've got a mix of returning volunteers and new folk, so hopefully the more experienced crowd will help them out."

"Must be nice to see people coming back."

"I'm always glad when they do. It's a pretty big task and it's nice to know we haven't scared them away..."

"They mostly from across the water?"

"Mmhmm." Beth tipped her beer back, taking a longer drink this time. "Students, mostly. Lots of energy."

"Oh to be that age again..."

"Mm, tell me about it. I know how much easier my day would be if I had a boundless supply of energy like I used to. Now even one beer'll send me to sleep when I used to be able to drink all night and still get up for freshwater surveys at six the next morning.

"Hey, does that mean I'm gonna have you conked out on my couch in five minutes? Because if so..."

"No, no," Beth hurried to say, "I'm sure I'll get back home before I crash. Do you want me to go now, because I can..."

"Oh, no, I wasn't trying to..." Robin shook her head, looking back over at Beth, this time managing to meet her gaze. "I was kidding. And I wouldn't mind at all even if you did, honestly. Although I suspect Savannah might when math club's done," she added with a little smile.

"I won't stay that long, don't worry." Beth seemed slightly more relaxed now, though whether it was because of the inconsequential conversation or the mostly-finished beer was hard to tell, but either way it meant Robin was able to rest a little easier herself.

"So, uh, how's your sister?" she asked now. "Isn't she overdue by now?"

"Mmhmm, by almost a week. She's handling it better than am I, to be honest, though I guess she's had more practice."

"Do you... did you... want more kids?"

Beth considered this question for a moment, tipping her head to one side and starting at the bottle on her knee. Eventually she looked up at Robin. "I always imagined Savannah having a brother or sister - I guess because I did myself and I can't imagine being an only child. But she has her cousins, and I guess that's close enough."

"They get along well, then? I know the boys are both slightly older than she is..."

"Well enough, most of the time. Sometimes they don't want her around because she's a girl... I think it hurts her feelings but she tries not to show it."

Robin nodded slowly. "She can be a sensitive kid sometimes."

"Mm," Beth agreed. "It's hard - I try to encourage her to be tough, because God knows children can be cruel, but I don't want to encourage too much or she'll lose it, and even though it's hard the ability to feel deeply about things is so important, y'know?"

The other woman hesitated at this - Beth's words obviously struck some chord with her. Nonetheless she nodded again, taking another sip of her beer.

"I guess you must know all about that, teaching young kids every day. I can't imagine what dealing with twenty Savannahs on a daily basis must be like."

"Oh, God, if they were all like Savannah that would be so much easier - she at least wants to learn, even if she is kinda distractible."

"Well, she is seven..." Beth said, sounding slightly defensive.

Robin glanced over again quickly. "I'm sorry," she said. "I wasn't trying to... You know I think Savannah's a great kid, right? I mean, obviously teachers aren't meant to have favourites any more than parents are, but..."

"No, no, it's fine, I just... mama bear instincts, I guess." Beth smiled wanly. "Obviously you're her teacher, not her mom, you're entitled to your own opinion."

Robin seemed to sense that she had once more managed to hit a sore spot, but rather than just leave it and move on she found herself turning a little toward Beth, sitting up a little straighter as though this would mean she was taken more seriously, she she said, "I'm not trying to give you hard time about your daughter, and I'm telling you, I would take a one Savannah Hall over a hundred, I don't know, Paige Marshalls. Those kids, they're fine, but they don't... innovate - they don't have it in 'em. Savannah challenges herself, constantly, and that's what makes her special. I hope you know that I... think that."

Beth was too surprised to reply for a moment and she seemed reluctant to meet the other woman's eyes, looking off to one side while her own eyes took on a slight sheen of what Robin was sure must be tears. She quickly blinked them away and summoned up a smile, shifting the beer bottle from her knee to the table. "I'm glad to hear that. She really loves your class, I'm glad that... well, it's good that you're teaching her this year."

"I am too. And hey, if I wasn't, we might not have met." Robin felt an internal start at this, wondering momentarily if she'd said too much, but running the words in her head they seemed innocent enough, whatever she really meant.

"That's true... well. All the more reason to be thankful for the [whatever county] School District," Beth said with a smile.

"They have their moments, certainly."

"Mm." Beth leaned forward to gather up her bottle again but stopped midway as she realized it was already empty. "Oh, well... maybe I should head off - I need to get the boat back and head home in time to meet Savannah."

Glancing up at the clock, Robin nodded. "I'll see you again soon?" she said.

"Mmhmm. I'll have to return your shirt at some point," Beth pointed out, standing and gesturing to the tank top she wore.

"Oh, it's fine, just whenever," Robin, following Beth's gesture with her eyes and immediately regretting it.

The ranger grinned. "Well, I'll bring it by after I've washed it, certainly."

Robin nodded, glancing away quickly as she felt her face begin to flush. "You know where to find me."

"Great. Well, um, thanks for the beer. I'll see you later."

"Absolutely."

 

Robin wasn't quite sure when to expect Beth to bring back her shirt, which meant that she spent most afternoons in a state of hyper-awareness, listening carefully for the sounds of any cars or boats approaching the barge. No one came near on Wednesday, or Thursday, or Friday, and she began to curse herself for her deluded anticipation. Beth had probably forgotten about the shirt by now, and that was fine... just fine. By Saturday she had managed to convince herself to relax, or at least to focus on something other than watching for the ranger, and so she almost didn't notice as a boat drifted around the bend late that morning, as she was busy scrubbing the worst of the mold and mildew off the decking outside.

"Ms Davis! There she is! I see her!" piped a young, familiar voice from the dinghy. "Hi Ms Davis!"

Beth, out of work clothes this time, was approaching once more in the motor boat, this time with her daughter, apparently in a state of high excitement. Grinning in spite of the tiny part of her that always wanted to be alone with Beth, Robin waved them over, getting to her feet and wiping her hands on her jeans. "Well, out for a pleasure cruise, huh?"

"We're going on a picnic!" Savannah announced excitedly, bouncing on her seat. Beth chuckled and maneuvered the small boat closer, though she was rowing this time, not using the motor.

"I thought we'd stop by and drop off that thing I borrowed, since we were in the area," she told the other woman.

"Right, of course," Robin said, then, in Savannah's direction, "Permission granted for embarkation, ma'am," she said solemnly, saluting.

The girl gave an attempt at a salute back and then looked expectantly to her mother, only standing once Beth had nodded that it was alright to do so. She clambered up onto the deck of the houseboat nimbly, looking around in awe. "I really like your house," she told her teacher then. "Do you live here all the time?"

"Mhm. Go on in, it's okay," she said, knowing that she was itching to see inside from the way she was trying to peer through the curtains.

Savannah scampered off, leaving Beth to stand up in the dinghy and hold out a small cloth bag in Robin's direction. "Here you go. Thank you again."

"Really, it was no problem, any time," Robin said, inwardly cursing herself for the automatic reaction since suggesting that Beth could wear her clothes 'any time' seemed a little strange if one thought about it too long. She stepped forward to the edge of the boat, leaning over the rail to reached for the bag.

Their fingers brushed, and it was all Robin could do not to drop the bag, which was a bit sad, really - how far gone was she? She could hear the sound of small feet running around inside and knew she should go in and supervise, but she couldn't quite tear herself away from this moment alone with Beth. "So," the ranger spoke up then, "hard at work?"

"Gotta keep on top of the neverending task of preventing the whole river from just growing up over this place and swallowing it completely," Robin said with a grimace. "I swear the last owners just didn't know that waterproofing exists and on a boat in this climate that's bad news..."

"Have you ever thought about putting it in drydock for a bit and letting it air out?" Beth suggested. "I mean, I know it's expensive, but I can probably talk to some folk that might be able to help you out..."

"I, uh... I guess I hadn't really considered it," Robin confessed. "To be honest, I suppose I just see this whole endeavor as a bit of a conceit. Figured I'd just keep it afloat as long as I could and then give up and move into a house, y'know?"

"Oh." Beth looked almost disappointed for a moment, but she soon smiled and shrugged it away. "Well, whatever floats your boat, I guess."

Robin smirked at this. "Well, I mean, that's not to say I wouldn't think about it now. I just... hadn't thought that far ahead before." She reached into the cloth bag to retrieve her vest, holding the bag back. "I'll go... put this away. And send your daughter out."

"Thanks."

Robin entered the cabin to find Savannah paging through one of the children's books she had left in a pile next to the table; the girl glanced up guiltily, immediately dropping it back on the pile. "Do I have to go now?"

"Well, don't you want to get to your picnic?" Robin asked with a smile as she made her way to her little wardrobe to put the top away.

"Oh yeah!" Suitably distracted now, Savannah dashed outside. A moment later Robin could hear the sound of voices, though not what they were saying, but before she could go outside to bid them goodbye her student reappeared, grinning in the doorway. "Ms Davis?"

"Uh huh?"

"Do you want to come on our picnic with us?"

Robin, taken aback, didn't answer for a moment, and Savannah looked almost worried. "Uh... are you sure you and your mom don't want some time together just the two of you?" she said.

"Uh huh!" the girl said brightly. "It's always just my mom and me, but if you come it will be three of us! We have lots of food."

"Are you sure it's okay with your mom?"

"Uh huh, I just asked her, she said I had to ask you but she thought it would be a lovely idea if you said yes."

"Then I'd love to. Just let me change out of my work clothes."

"Okay!"

 

Fifteen minutes later found all three in the rowboat, Beth at the oars, making their way down the river. The dinghy wasn't very large but they all fit well enough, though Robin had had to maneuver herself carefully into a comfortable position against the prow - a position that gave her a perfect view of Beth as she rowed, her movements smooth and economical. She could see a slight dark patch of perspiration between the shoulderblades on the ranger's thin teeshirt and found her mind drifting to the skin beneath, warm and glistening, muscles moving beneath... She was pulled sharply back to reality by a question about her boat from Savannah, and, remembering where she was, Robin resolved not to let herself fantasise any further about Beth - at least today. It was inappropriate enough when it was just the two of them but it was positively obscene in front of Beth's daughter - her pupil.

A resolution that was easier to make than to keep. Unlike a lot of her friends, who though sporty themselves preferred their partners delicate and soft, Robin liked women with a mix of 'traditional' femininity and toughness - both of which Beth possessed in spades. She was simultaneously capable of guiding the boat with strong, sure strokes while at the same time engaging Savannah in a lively and spirited game of 'spot the wildlife', a game which seemed to be a favorite of both mother and daughter. Though Robin's knowledge of the local fauna wasn't quite up to Beth's, she was no slump and was at least able to join in, and the time passed quickly for all three of them as they made their way to the picnic spot.

"There it is! I see it!" Savannah crowed, pointing excitedly as they came into view of a small, sandy island sitting lazily in the middle of the winding river. Beth grinned and steered them towards it, glancing over her shoulder at Robin as she did so.

"We've been coming here for years - ever since 'Vannah was big enough to walk. It's the perfect spot for picnics, don't you think?"

"It's gorgeous - I can't believe I didn't know about this place."

Beth smiled before turning back to her rowing. "Well, you do now."

Savannah, socks and shoes already off, jumped out of the boat as soon as they were close enough to shore, sinking into the water up past her knees and grabbing the side of the boat to help guide it in, though she was making very little impression on it. Beth chuckled and jumped out as well, and Robin was towed to shore by the mother and daughter, both of whom seemed to be having a grand time splashing one another as well as grounding the boat.

Robin pushed to her feet and turned to disembark to find Beth standing expectantly, holding a hand out to help her. "I can probably..." Oh hell, you're not going to turn that down. After a moment's hesitation, Robin reached to grip Beth's hand firmly, letting the other woman share her weight as she stepped out of the boat. Beth supported her easily, easing the transition from boat to land, and her hand was gone all too soon as she turned to make sure Savannah hadn't scampered too far way. When she was satisfied that her daughter was safe she turned back to Robin, leaning over to retrieve something from the bottom of the dinghy.

"I thought with all your Yogi Bear talk you might want to partake of our pick-a-nick basket..."

"I do like pick-a-nicks..." Robin shot her a smile, looking over to Savannah with the primary purpose of preventing herself from watching Beth.

"Well then. Why don't you pick a spot and we'll get set up?" the ranger suggested, hefting a sizable basket from the boat.

 

In fact, Savannah picked a spot, Robin turned to her for 'guidance' and getting it in spades from the child who'd been picnicking here for years. The three were soon tucking in to a veritable feast that Beth had prepared, and though she tried not to think too hard about it it seemed to Robin that it had always been intended to satisfy three and not merely two people.

After they had finished the picnic there was the obligatory running about and splashing in the water - Beth and Savannah partook of this while Robin mostly watched from her spot on the shore. It was an interesting mix - Savannah was obviously both thrilled and nervous to have her teacher there, watching, but Beth managed to distract her and the two were soon cavorting in the slow current, squealing and splashing like maniacs. Far from being annoying, Robin found the whole affair incredibly charming, watching mother and daughter just enjoying each other's time - and not least seeing Beth in what was obviously her element.

After some time playing in the water they retired to the shore; Beth sat by Savannah, engaging both her and Robin in conversation about their day until the girl expressed her fatigue. Obviously having planned for this scenario, Beth produced a blanket from the boat, folding it into fourths and laying it down on the sand in a small nook which Savannah seemed happy to settle down in.

Robin found herself smiling fondly as she watched the pair, Savannah curling into her little hollow to sleep, Beth's care and attention. Scenes of domestic bliss weren't generally something that moved her, particularly, but on this occasion, it seemed, she was making an exception.

The best part of this particular scene was the fact that it ended with Beth coming to plop herself on the sand next to Robin, hooking her arms around her knees. "Finally - a little peace and quiet."

"Oh, c'mon," Robin argued, grinning at the ranger, "you don't really mean that - you love every minute."

"Oh, absolutely," Beth agreed, chuckling. "But that doesn't mean I don't love a break now and then."

"Fair enough." Robin leaned back onto her elbows, bending her bad leg at the knee and wincing slightly. Seeing that Beth had noticed her expression, she shook her head as if to pre-emptively ward off any show of concern. "Thank God for that storm the other night, that's all I'm sayin'."

"It was a pretty wild one, but it definitely cleared the air. Storms must be interesting on the boat."

"I guess... I'm used to them to be honest, I'm usually just relieved."

Now Beth did look concerned, though she refrained from making any comment to that effect. "Storms usually put me on edge... it's all the lightning. The 'Glades needs its fire, but that doesn't mean that every time we get a strike it's not a stressful situation."

Robin nodded. "Must be - do you get put on alert or do they have special teams on call?"

"There are teams, but more often than not we get called in anyway - you can never predict how many bodies you're going to need."

"'Course. Poor you, there I was itching for a storm and you must've been dreading it."

"Well, like I said, I know how necessary they are - and if it made you feel better then all the more reason to root for it," Beth said, looking down at Robin with a smile.

Robin grinned in return, squinting slightly in the sunlight. Lifting a hand to shade her eyes she looked over to where Savannah slept. "God, look at that. Do you remember that? The ability to go from top gear to dead to the world in sixty seconds flat?"

"Funny thing - you actually regain that ability when you become a parent. Though I think it's adaptive, since it's the only way you'll ever get any sleep."

"Does that mean you'd usually be napping too, now? Am I keeping you from your sleep?"

"Maybe a bit, but I don't mind," Beth joked.

Robin chuckled, shifting to lie on her back on the picnic blanket, bringing up a hand to rest her head on it. "I'm not surprised, here. It's pretty idyllic."

"Mm, I love it. Sometimes when we come here I can almost convince myself I'm somewhere else entirely - some tropical country somewhere instead of just a few miles from home." The ranger sounded slightly wistful, and she shifted, glancing at Savannah and then looking out over the water surrounding them.

"Do you two ever get away? On vacation, I mean?"

"Umm... no, not really," Beth said, shaking her head. "I mean, we've done the whole Disneyworld thing, but... that's not what you mean, is it?"

"I suppose not. I mean, not that it matters - I didn't mean to imply-"

"No, you're right... I wish I could take Savannah more interesting places. She'd love it, and she'd get to start seeing there are things outside of Brookford, which God knows is important..." Beth sighed. "There's just never enough time... or money. I've been saving to try and go somewhere for years now... and I'm still nowhere close."

Robin wasn't sure what to say to this - she'd realised as soon as she'd asked the question that of course a park ranger trying to bring up her daughter alone didn't go on vacations, but by then it was too late. Closing her eyes, she arched her back slightly to stretch out her muscles before relaxing again onto the sand. "You'll get there," she murmured encouragingly.

Beth's only reply was a quiet 'Mm'. Silence came to fill the gaps left by the stop of conversation, and it wasn't long before Robin drifted into a light doze, lulled by the slow sound of the river and the occasional breeze that kept the afternoon sun from feeling too hot.

 

She woke with a slight start to find herself the only person not sleeping - Savannah was still curled up on the picnic blanket, and Beth, it seemed, had given into the lazy afternoon and lay down for a nap as well. She was lying on her side, knees drawn up slightly, one hand clenched tightly against her chest, the other reaching out, inches away from Robin's own. Torn between the instinct to immediately get up and remove herself from the situation and the urge to prolong it, the latter won, and Robin turned onto her side to face the other woman, grabbing hold of the opportunity to observe her at her leisure - taking in the soft features of her face, and, with a pang of guilt as well as a twinge of appreciation, the full, healthy curves of her figure. Her hand crept a little closer to Beth's, their fingers now only a hair's breadth apart, although she didn't dare close the gap entirely.

She wasn't sure how long she lay there in rapt attention, only that she was shaken from it by the sound of Savannah rousing and sitting up a few feet away. The girl yawned and then looked around slightly worriedly, relaxing only when she saw the two women - presumably both asleep - on the sand.

Robin was sorely tempted to maintain the illusion in the hopes that Savannah would give them a little longer, but as she took in the little girl's look of resignation as she looked around herself, clearly unwilling to wake them but bored without their company, she found that she couldn't do it. She knew she could probably wake Savannah's mother by some formal means - calling her name, touching her shoulder - but instead she found herself reaching a little further to touch her fingers to Beth's. "Savannah's awake," she murmured quietly.

Beth's fingers flinched away and her eyes flew open, obviously disoriented for a moment before she focused on Robin's face. "Oh, um, thanks," she said hoarsely, pushing herself up on one arm and looking over to her daughter. "You okay, honey?" her voice was thick, and Robin couldn't help wonder whether it was only having just woken up that made it so.

Savannah had already noticed that the two women were awake and was making her way over, accidentally kick sand onto their blanket in the process. "Kinda bored now," she said bluntly.

"Well, why don't you ask Ms Davis if she's ready to go home and if she is we can pack up."

Savannah turned to do just that, but Robin held a hand up, smiling. "It's okay, Savannah, I'm ready to head back too. C'mon, let's get packed up - I'll even row us if you like."

"Okay! But you have to be really strong to do it..."

Robin grinned, glancing briefly at Beth. "I think I'll manage."

 

The row back to the houseboat took even less time than the trip to the island had, mostly because Savannah was uninterested in playing any game or taking in the scenery. Robin was a competent oarswoman, although not as practiced as Beth, and although she felt a tiny twinge in her leg on each stroke she found that she was rather enjoying the exercise.

When they arrived back at the houseboat Robin took her time climbing back aboard, aware of the two pairs of eyes watching her. When she turned back, however, it was only Beth looking up at her as Savannah rummaged through the picnic basket for a snack. Her instinct was to ask the pair inside for a few minutes before they continued on their way, but she was unsure whether Beth would want to get Savannah home sooner rather than later, and so she took the opportunity while she was looking the other way to shoot the ranger a querying expression, tipping her head subtly toward the interior of the boat.

The other woman considered this for a long moment and eventually nodded, much to Robin's satisfaction. "Vannah, honey, why don't we go inside for a minute - you can use the bathroom before we head home."

Her daughter was, naturally, delighted by this idea, the novelty of being inside her teacher's house far from having worn off, and practically bounced out of the rowing boat and onto the deck.

"You go on in, Savannah," Robin said. "I'll help you mom tie up and we'll be right behind you."

"Thanks," Beth said, handing the rope up to Robin as Savannah skipped inside.

"No problem." Robin secured the boat firmly at one end while Beth did the other, before leaning over the rail to offer her a hand - she knew it wasn't necessary, of course, but as she was there it seemed only polite.

"Thanks," Beth murmured again, clasping Robin's hand tightly as she stepped up to the deck.

"Again, no problem," Robin murmured, in a tone that sounded far more inviting than she'd intended, to her own ears at least. The ranger fixed her with a curious gaze, her fingers still wrapped around Robin's despite the fact she was safely on the houseboat now.

"I'm glad you came with us today. It was... nice."

Robin smiled warmly, though her stomach twisted with sudden nerves - surely it couldn't be in her mind that there was some tension in the air here? Of course, that didn't mean that it wasn't merely tension she'd created with her intermittently strange behaviour... "I had a really lovely time. Thank you so much for inviting me out with you."

"It was my pleasure. Savannah loves having you around. And..." Beth hesitated, then smiled, slipping her hand away from Robin's and lifting it to tuck her hair behind her ear. "Well. We should probably go see what the troublemaker is up to."

Robin stepped back a little, now, nodding a little more vigorously than was probably strictly necessary. "Of course."

Beth followed Robin into the cabin; Savannah was nowhere to be seen, but a moment later they could hear water running in the bathroom.

"Do you two want an iced tea," Robin asked in a murmur that Savannah wouldn't hear, "or do you need to get going?"

"We shouldn't really stay much longer," Beth said, and Robin was gratified to see the disappointment apparent in the other woman's face.

"Well, in that case I'm sure we'll all see each other again soon," Robin said, raising her voice slightly as Savannah approached into earshot. She shot the girl a smile. "And I'll see you on Monday," she added.

"Are we going to start two-place adding this week?" the girl asked excitedly.

Raising her eyebrows in surprise that Savannah was showing an interest in such a subject, Robin nodded. "At some point, yes."

"Cool! We've been practicing," she said proudly, gesturing to her mother. "I'm really good at it, mostly."

"I'm glad to hear that," Robin said with another warm, slightly amused smile, this time directed at Beth. "I'm sure you'll catch on in no time."

The girl's mother seemed to blush, crossing the floor to put a hand on her shoulder. "C'mon honey. Let's go home."

"Can we do this again soon?" Robin heard Savannah direct to her mother as she followed them outside.

"We'll see, honey. It would sure be nice, wouldn't it?" came the response. "Now jump in and you can help me cast off."

 

Robin really hadn't meant it to come to this. It wasn't as though she hadn't had unrequited crushes before. She was perfectly capable of being attracted to someone and still maintaining a perfectly ordinary, healthy friendship with them, usually without them ever finding out. In time, the attraction would fade and the friendship would remain - or take its own course, at any rate.

In the meantime, though, Robin was finding it very hard not to spend every spare shred of her mental energy wondering when she would next see Beth Strickland. It had been a week since the picnic, and they'd seen each other a few times - once for a quick coffee after work while Savannah was at math club, a much more successful venture than their last abortive attempt at coffee. Once they had run into one another outside the school as Beth picked Savannah up and Robin was leaving on time (for once), but she was running for a doctor's appointment and they really just exchanged hellos. Today, Saturday, Beth had come by in a boat again, but she was working this time, bereft of either Savannah or a picnic and the pair had just chatted for ten minutes before she'd had to get back to work.

With every meeting things seemed to grow more easy between them after the spat they'd had the other week. Beth was starting to relax again, seeming a little less careful of her words all the time, much to Robin's relief as she hadn't ever meant to put the other woman on guard. Robin herself was successfully stamping down any amorous feelings she might have during the time they shared, managing to avoid for the most part letting her eyes stray from Beth's face to other parts of her anatomy, and those seemingly innocent touches that lingered a little too long.

That didn't mean, though, that the feelings themselves were going away. If anything, they were growing stronger all the time.

She had spent so long thinking about Beth that particular evening that when her cell phone rang showing the ranger's name on the caller ID she thought for a second she had somehow conjured her up. Snapping out of her reverie, she managed she pick up the phone on the fourth ring and was greeted by Beth, sounding more frantic than she had ever heard her.

"Robin, hello, it's Beth, I... Is this a bad time?" she asked breathlessly. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Wh- no, no, not at all, is everything okay?" Robin, previously reclining on the couch with a half-finished beer, was now bolt upright and fully alert.

"Yes, it's... It's all fine, it's just Jenny, she's finally gone into labor."

"Oh! Um... well, congratulations..." Robin frowned somewhat confusedly. Why was she being told this? Then the penny dropped. "Oh, do you need me to watch Savannah?"

"Could you?" Beth implored. "I wouldn't ask, but I have to watch Cody and Aidan, and who knows how long this might take... Last time it was 28 hours... And oh God, I wouldn't ask you to watch her that long, just for the night, I'll come get her tomorrow..."

"Uh, sure," Robin said, then, worrying that she'd sounded went on quickly, "I'd love to - you're going to bring her to me, then? You wouldn't prefer I came into town?"

"No, no, she's already begged to be able to sleep on the houseboat, she'd never forgive me if I made her stay here..."

Robin found herself grinning down the phoneline. "All right then, I'll make up the spare berth. See you soon."

'Soon' really wasn't very long at all - about twenty minutes later Beth's pickup pulled up and both she and Savannah tumbled out. The girl was carrying a large overnight bag and wearing her pajamas, obviously excited for what promised to be a thrilling sleepover. Beth gave Robin a slightly frazzled-looking smile as they approached, her cell phone in hand. "Thank you so much for doing this - you're a lifesaver, you really are."

"Hey, it's no problem, glad to help," Robin said, shaking her head and holding out a hand for Savannah to pass her bag.

"She's got everything she needs, and she knows exactly what behavior is expected tonight," Beth said in a significant tone, raising her eyebrows at the girl. "Her bedtime is eight o'clock, and she gets one book before lights out."

"I'm sure she'll be on her best behaviour," Robin replied breezily.

"Mm. Well, you have my phone number - don't hesitate to call for any reason. And I'll be back in the morning to get her bright and early." Beth paused, then bent down to kneel next to Savannah. "Be good, okay honey? I love you very much."

There was a murmured, "Love you too," in return, and Savannah threw her arms enthusiastically around her mother's neck, hugging her tightly in the manner of a small person who knows that a big person is anxious and wants to set them at ease. Robin found that she was quite touched.

With that, Beth was off, though not before she was able to shoot another grateful grin and a mouthed 'thank you so much' to Robin over Savannah's head. The girl didn't seem too worried as her mother departed, though of course it made sense that after spending every day with her teacher she wouldn't mind spending the night too.

"C'mon, you," Robin said, slinging Savannah's bag over her shoulder. "Let's get on inside, shall we?"

In the end the baby-sitting turned out to be almost a non-event; Savannah was a well-behaved and biddable child, at least for Robin, and she had obviously had enough excitement already that day to be quite tired. She didn't even protest when Robin finished up the chapter of 'The Indian in the Cupboard' she was reading and switched off the lights, though she did look quite small and lonely curled up on the berth under a light blanket.

Robin herself had planned to spend some time trying to write that evening, but said activity was generally so stressful and depressing that it wasn't a mood she wanted to risk inflicting on a child, even if she was currently asleep, so instead she settled down onto the couch with her kindle to read for a while. She had put her phone on silent, and although it would vibrate if anyone called or texted she nevertheless found herself checking it regularly, both nervous and excited about the possibility of another call from Beth updating her on the situation, or even just checking in. Come on, there's no reason why she'd have to call again tonight, necessarily. Even if there is news.

It wad during one of these compulsive phone-checks that it rang, surprising her so much that she almost dropped it. Fumbling it up to her ear, she answered, rising stiffly from the couch as she did so in order to move further away from where Savannah slept. "Hello?"

"Hello, it's me... I was just calling to check on Savannah. Is she behaving?"

"Safe and sound asleep in bed," Robin said quietly, finding herself smiling automatically as usual. "How're things at your end?"

"I'm back at Jenny's house - they're still at the hospital, but the boys needed to sleep. She's doing fine, but it's going to take a while, apparently..."

"Well, I don't have any plans beyond some grocery shopping and a little DIY tomorrow, so if you need me to hang on to Savannah..."

"No, no, I couldn't ask that. I'll come by and pick her up before we go to the hospital."

"Well, okay. But really, whatever you need."

She heard Beth give a long sigh, and wished they were speaking face-to-face so that she could see the other woman's expression. "You're doing plenty. I'm sorry I bothered you on a Saturday night - I promise I'll make it up to you. Um, in fact..."

"There's really no need," Robin began, "I really am happy t-"

"I was just going say that maybe next week we could... oh. Well."

"Sorry, we could what?" Robin said, breaking off.

"Well, since I've stolen your Saturday night maybe we could do something next week, my treat. Savannah has a sleepover to go to so maybe we could grab dinner and see a movie after, if you liked." Beth paused, waiting carefully for Robin's reaction.

There was a pause as Robin almost pulled the phone away from her ear to stare at it. You're friends, remember? That is a totally normal thing for friends to do. Jesus, get over yourself already. "That would... be great. I'd like that," she said eventually.

"Oh, great," Beth said, the smile evident in her voice. "Great. Well, okay, we can figure out the details later. But remember - it's on me."

 

Savannah was considerably less keen to get up in the morning than she had been to go to bed the previous night, but Robin managed to get her up, washed and dressed in time for Beth's arrival. When the pickup pulled up it was not just Beth, but also Savannah's cousins; two little boys who, by the looks of it, were more than a handful. They careened about the clearing as Beth came to retrieve her daughter's bag, and there was little time for the two adults to exchange anything beyond pleasantries before Beth and the kids had to depart.

And so now all that remained to be done was a whole lot of waiting.

The time passed quickly for Beth - after her sister's third son was born that Sunday afternoon she had even more on her plate to deal with. She and Savannah practically lived at Jenny and Hank's, as there was quite a lot of work to be done and nobody else to do it. In between her trips to the grocery store, piles and piles of laundry and running the kids to and from school she looked forward to Saturday like the light at the end of a tunnel.

Her encounters with Robin were becoming more and more like that - bright spots in otherwise mundane, muggy days. Even when they only met in passing the other woman never failed to make her smile, and she looked forward to every meeting they scheduled with anticipation. Slowly Robin was becoming more comfortable with her; she still seemed hesitant to talk much about the past, but that didn't mean their conversations were stagnant. Indeed, Beth sometimes felt like Robin was the only person who bothered to talk to her about anything beyond boring, day-to-day minutiae, and she cherished those conversations just as much as she cherished the easy silences they sometimes shared as well.

 

"Well look at you, all dressed up." Jenny grinned at Beth from her spot on the couch. She'd returned home from the hospital the previous day and was, for once, letting someone else do the work around the house, her attention taken up with the new arrival.

"What? Oh, this... no, I just... well." Beth blushed, neatening the stack of magazines on the coffee table. "I do wear dresses sometimes, you know."

"You off somewhere nice tonight, then? You certainly deserve the break..."

"Just going to a movie in a bit. And dinner. But I won't be late - do you want me to come back here before I go home?"

"Hell, no, I'll be fine, you have a good time." Jenny's eyes narrowed a little. "Beth, do you have a date?"

"What? No! Jesus, Jenny, I'm just meeting Robin in town and we're going to a movie." The younger woman frowned and turned away, bending to pick up a toy car peeking out from beneath an armchair. "I thought I'd take advantage of Savannah being away to have a little fun myself."

"With Robin."

"With my friend, yes."

Jenny sighed, clearly too tired to argue any more strenuously. "I don't understand what it is about Robin Davis - is it 'cause she's Savannah's teacher? Do you think it gives you an edge?"

"An edge? Do you seriously think I'm trying to butter up my seven year old's teacher for an edge? We just hit it off, okay? That's all."

"Mm. Well. I guess you're both outdoorsy."

"Yeah. Sure. That's it. Listen, I... have to go. Okay? Call me if you need anything."

"Have a nice evening, honey."

"Mm. I will."

 

Robin glanced at her reflection in the window in front of her for what seemed the hundredth time. She still looked great, why couldn't she just stop checking? Robin had never had any particular insecurities about her appearance. She wasn't conceited, and nor did she consider herself to be particularly attractive, but she knew that she had pleasing, even features, a trim, toned figure and knew how to dress. She was the type of person who glanced in a mirror on the way out the door, but tonight... maybe it was because it wasn't a date. She was torn between wanting to look nice and wanting to appear casual. She wasn't used to dressing with such a sense of purpose - usually it was "Am I going to be teaching kids?" or "Am I going to be meeting parents?" or maybe "Am I going to be on my hands and knees in grime?" Simple by comparison.

She didn't have to worry much longer, at least, as Beth finally arrived (only fifteen minutes late) and ran breathlessly up to the restaurant they had arranged to meet at. "Robin! I'm so sorry, I was on my way here, on time and everything, and then there was a box turtle in the road and it was nearly about to be run over so I had to stop and move it... I'm so sorry I'm late."

Robin grinned broadly at this. "Oh, sugar, don't sweat it, you've had a hell of a week. And box turtles need their hero."

"Still, we shouldn't be late for the movie, if we don't take too long to eat..." Beth smiled shyly, looking Robin up and down. "You look amazing, by the way. I love your... well, everything."

The teacher opened her mouth to answer this, but nothing came out at first as she felt a blush rise in her cheeks. God, Beth, if only you knew you wouldn't talk like that... "Thanks. You look lovely, of course," she said. "As always."

"Hah. I hope you're not teaching my daughter to lie like that," Beth snorted.

"I'm not going to dignify that with argument," Robin said primly. "Sit down, already," she added with a grin, "I've seen the dress, now - let's eat."

They chatted their way through dinner, though both women kept an eye on the time so that they wouldn't miss their showing (Brookford had one small theatre with a limited amount of options - the next showing wasn't for another hour, and it was an action flick neither women had any interest in seeing). Beth was animated and attentive, though Robin could tell that there was something bothering her, and when the opportunity arose she probed gently to try to diagnose what it was.

"So how has your week been?" she said, "I mean, aside from hectic, obviously. Everything else going okay? Work? Savannah?"

"Oh, it's all fine, really. Busy, like you said," Beth said with a shrug. "But fine."

"Nothin on your mind? You seem a bit... forgive me if I'm wrong, but... preoccupied?"

"Oh, that..." The other woman hesitated, picking through her salad for a bit of chicken before looking up at Robin. "It's just... my sister. She gets these ideas into her head sometimes - I have no idea where from. But they're usually annoying."

"Ah. What's her annoying idea, then?" Robin inquired with a sympathetic smile.

Beth sighed. "She thinks that I chose to become friends with you to get some sort of 'edge' for Savannah at school. Which I absolutely did not," she hastened to add, frowning.

Robin raised her eyebrows, rather taken aback - she hadn't thought that Beth's preoccupation had been related to her. "I, uh... knew that, thanks though," she said with a slight smile. "Why does she think that?"

"Because... I have no idea. I guess the idea of me making friends with someone just because I like them is too strange to believe, or something. She just... doesn't get it."

Robin smirked slightly. "Well. She never did like me much, I guess," she offered. "I really doubt it's about you."

"Well, I don't like it. She needs to get over whatever stupid thing happened in high school and start accepting people as they are now."

"Oh, I don't think I've changed in any way Jenny would care about," Robin said obliquely, though she then turned her attention to the last of her food. This seemed to put a cap on things well enough for Beth, as she let the subject drop and concentrated on finishing her meal so that they could go.

 

The film was pleasant enough - not exactly hard-hitting but well acted and nice to look at, and it gave the pair plenty to talk about afterward on their way back to where they'd parked. Beth had parked her truck not far from Robin's station wagon, and she followed the other woman to her car, looking increasingly reluctant to say goodbye as they approached.

"Well," Robin said as they arrived by her car. "I guess that's us. I had a really lovely time tonight," she added. "Shame we're too far to walk or I'd say we should go for a drink, but I need my full wits about me driving these days."

"No, that's true enough," Beth agreed, playing with her keys in one hand and jingling them distractedly.

"You could always come back to the boat for one if you like," Robin suggested then, after a hesitation.

"All right," the other woman said, a little too quickly. "I mean, unless you'd rather just call it a night. I've had a really good time too, it's been great..."

Robin stalled again for a moment. Was it really a good idea? The evening had been comfortable enough so far, pleasant, fun even - did she really want to risk ruining that by putting herself alone in a room with Beth? "Nah, come back to the boat. I'm not tired yet, it's a Saturday night - let's live a little."

"Okay, great. I'll see you there."

 

"So I have beers, red wine, or I think there's some diet coke and a bottle of rum around here somewhere... any preferences?"

"Oh, um, wow... too many choices," Beth said with a chuckle. "Could we... would red wine be okay? I never get to have that anymore."

Robin glanced up from the fridge momentarily, raising her eyebrows in mild surprise - but she smiled and nodded nonetheless, opening the cupboard that contained her small wine rack and retrieving a bottle, another narrow cupboard for two squat, stemless wine glasses, and then the silverware drawer for a corkscrew. Although her kitchen was tiny, it was actually sort of ideal for her - she never had to cook for multiple people so she didn't need the extra space, and it was much easier for her on a day to day basis to have a space where she didn't need to walk around too much.

Beth had settled down on the sofa, smoothing her dress over her knees and looking appreciatively around the low-ceilinged room. Her gaze fell on the sculpture on the floor and she cocked her head, trying to make out a form or shape to it. She couldn't seem to pin it down to just one concept - from one angle she saw a fish tail, from another a person. One interpretation pointed to a female figure and another male. The longer she looked, the more unsettling the sculpture became, the more staunchly it refused to fit into any one idea.

"It's a Nommo." The words shook her attention back to the room, and to the wine glass now being held out in her direction. Robin was smiling down at her and she wondered how long she'd been staring in concentration at the statue. "Or just 'Nommo' depending on the myth. They're spirits of the Dogon, in Mali. They're kind of like... hermaphroditic mermaid gods, I guess?" She stooped to put her own glass down on the table before sitting down, bracing her hand on the arm of the couch to take the weight off her leg in a gesture that was now quite familiar to Beth. "They're the 'masters of the water' - not that I knew when I got that statue that I'd be living on a houseboat. Guess it was fate."

"I guess so," Beth agreed, looking away from the statue and concentrating on her glass instead. She was both excited and nervous about being at Robin's - it had been a long time since she had properly socialized and she knew, despite Robin's calming influence, it was quite likely she would do something silly and embarrassing before the night was out.

"So you don't know many wine drinkers, then, huh?" Robin offered now, reaching for her own glass and lifting it to her lips.

"Oh, maybe... I really don't know. Mostly it's just beers at picnics - there isn't much call for anything 'fancy' like wine." Beth made a face before taking a sip herself, savoring the rich, red flavor as it slid past her lips.

Robin blinked, distracted for a moment as her eyes followed the path of Beth's glass to her mouth, but she caught herself quickly, and nodded. "To be honest I mostly agree. Plus opening a bottle of wine alone is just trouble - you end up either drunk, drinking several nights in a row, or pouring half of it out. But it's nice for a change."

"You should have said if you preferred-"

"Oh, no, no," Robin interrupted, holding her hand up. "I do like it, or I wouldn't have it in the house. Besides," she added. "I'm not drinking alone this evening."

"That's true." Beth smiled and took another sip, relaxing back on the sofa. "God, this is so nice... I've been looking forward to this all week, you know."

Trying to ignore the delicious twist in her stomach at this revelation, Robin only said, "Me too. It's been a long week - even longer for you I'll bet."

"Mm. A bit. I'm just glad it's over. Though I guess it means that we're that much closer to the next week."

"What's next week?"

"Oh, just more of the same." Beth gave her friend a tired, slightly loose smile: it seemed the wine was already having an effect.

"Active, vocational job; smart, beautiful daughter; brand new nephew; endlessly beautiful weather?" Robin offered with a wry smile. She knew that Beth was the type of person to count her blessings as a general rule, whatever life's stresses, but at the same time there was no doubt that being so busy all the time had to take its toll.

Beth blushed deeply; she seemed to do that quite a lot, but luckily Robin it nothing short of endearing. "Well, when you put it like that..."

"Knowing all that though has to make it worse on the days it all feels too much, though," Robin offered. "Feeling like you can't complain or shouldn't feel down, having to keep up the constant brave face. Knowing that-" she broke off, then, realising that what she was about to say would probably constitute prying or at best hit a sore spot. "Well, anyway..."

"No, go on," Beth said, raising her eyebrows as she lifted her wineglass.

"I don't want to..." Robin began, then she sighed, shrugging a little. "I was going to say that you must feel as though you can't ever let anyone know that it's hard to keep up sometimes, because if you do, you're admitting defeat as a single parent. People would see it as a sign that you shouldn't be... alone." The silence that followed this was deafening, though it was only a moment before Robin broke it, adding, "But listen, what do I know, I was onl-"

"No, it's okay," Beth interjected, shaking her head, though her cheeks were still deep pink. "You're right. I mean, I'm not trying to make myself into a martyr or anything - there are plenty of people who have it a lot worse than me. But sometimes... It feels like that, yeah. And it's not like I chose... I mean, I guess I did, but not because I wanted to be alone."

Robin nodded slowly, unsure what to say to this. She wasn't sure how to let Beth know that she was there to be confided in without being seen as prying - particularly after she had effectively told Beth herself to back off before, with pretty uncomfortable results. "Well..." she hazarded eventually, "you don't need to worry about that from me."

"I know," Beth said, and her smile was so grateful and so sweet it was enough to make Robin's own cheeks feel warm. "That's one of the reasons I value... This. Our friendship. So much."

Robin was given a little pause by the way Beth had phrased her declaration, but she shook the thought off, just turning a little in her seat to better face the other woman. "I'm glad," she said. Then, feeling that she ought to reciprocate, she added, "I didn't think I was ever going to run into anyone in Brookford that I felt I could really... connect with. I feel pretty lucky to have been proven wrong."

"Well. I guess we're both lucky, then." Beth raised her glass in a toast, her expression unreadable as she gazed into Robin's eyes.

Robin swallowed, hard, fighting to ignore the tingle that ran through her as their eyes met, but she smiled nonetheless, leaning in a little to touch her glass lightly to Beth's. "I guess we are."

The moment was broken as Beth sat back, then twisted to set her glass on the nearby table. Robin heard her give a hiss of pain and curse lightly as she turned gingerly back to lean against the sofa once more, and she sat up a little straighter, brow furrowing. "You okay?"

"Fine, fine... I just did something to my back the other day and it's acting up now," the other woman replied. "But it's fine, really."

"Hey, don't 'it's fine' me," Robin said, leaning to put her glass down on the table, and shifting forward in her seat. "I know all about 'it's fine' - sit up, let me take a look. What were you doing?"

"Helping get one of the big boats ready to launch - I was picking up some supplies and must've lifted badly and wrenched something," Beth said, straightening up carefully. "Health and Safety would have my head if I reported it..."

"You really should know better. Is it okay if I-..." Robin gestured a hand toward Beth's back, shifting slightly closer, hoping that the slight tremble of nerves she felt wasn't visible.

"Mm, go right ahead. If you can fix it I'll be relieved." Beth turned, pulling her hair over her shoulder out of the way. "And I know I should know better - I guess I was just distracted or something."

"If it was a sudden thing and you've twisted something there might not be much I can do," Robin warned, but with a quiet preparatory intake of breath she turned a little more to the side and brought her hands to rest at Beth's waist, indicating with a gentle pressure that Beth should turn further to look away from her.

"Well, it's been a few days - usually it would've gone away by now," Beth murmured, following the pressure and shifting to one side, her hip brushing Robin's knee, eliciting a minor tremor within Robin that stilled her hands momentarily.

Get a grip, you volunteered for this... She drew in another long breath, and began to smooth the flats of her fingers experimentally up either side of Beth's spine, probing gently for anything obviously out of place.

Most of what she felt was expected - smooth, warm muscle under the thin fabric of the sundress, leading Robin's imagination to wander where it really shouldn't have.

She realised that she probably ought to have asked where it hurt, but as Beth hadn't volunteered the information she was now disinclined to ask and cut short her slow, careful exploration of the musculature of the younger woman's back in her search for the injured area, easing out the minor knots and kinks she found along the way.

"Mm, you must've had a lot of practice doing stuff like this," Beth sighed, her head dropping forward slightly as she closed her eyes.

"A little. One of those things you end up picking up if you spend a lot of time travelling," Robin said. "I also juggle, play ukelele very badly, and have a mean game of Danish."

Beth chuckled, causing vibrations to resonate through Robin's hands. "The ukelele, huh? I wouldn't have guessed that in a million years."

"Yeah, well, like I say - very badly. Oh, is this it? Just here?"

"Ow - um - yes," Beth replied tightly. "Right there."

"Right... Well, I think you've just strained it, that's just going to need some rest and care, but everything around it's knotted up in sympathy... I might be able to loosen you up a bit, if it's not going to be too tender?"

"Oh, go for it. No pain, no gain, right?"

"That's the spirit," Robin said, breaking contact for a moment to reach for her wine. Having taken a long sip, she went back to work, beginning to knead and rub gently around the affected area with her strong, nimble fingers, now warm from friction even through Beth's dress. She seemed to be completely tuned into the job at hand, listening and feeling for every wince or intake of breath, paying attention to the signals Beth was giving her as she worked through the knots that had gathered around the affected area.

Having played a variety of sports for over half her life Robin was no stranger to therapeutic massages, but it had been some time since she had had one - or been touched by anybody but family. This, coupled with the half glass of wine she'd had, meant that Robin's ministrations felt very nice indeed, and she couldn't keep from letting out the occasional sigh or even a soft moan as the other woman continued.

Jesus... Robin had been here before - a couple of times, in fact. A glass of wine, a back rub, gentle chatter, and then you leaned forward a bit, ostensibly to get the right angle for some imaginary knot but really to let her feel your breath on the back of her neck, to guage her reaction. Whether she flinched, or gasped, or perhaps leant back toward you a little. Then depending on said reaction you'd slide your hands down, rest them on her hips, give her the chance to break the moment. And if she didn't - if she was still sitting there, leaning back toward you, body loose and relaxed, your breath warm on her skin, you leaned in and touched your lips to the nape of her neck. It was always a risk, taking the plunge like that, but then, those other times Robin had been with a woman she knew was interested in other woman, who knew that she, Robin, felt the same. Women who knew that they were getting into, women who didn't send out the wrong signal by accident.

So there would be no leaning closer, no caressing, definitely no kissing. And Beth's tiny moans and sighed were to be taken for what they were - not encouragement, not part of a not-so-subtle flirtation. Just the expression of simple, innocent pleasure at having her aches and pains eased. And Robin would just have to deal with that, even as she felt herself reacting involuntarily to those sounds, even as she felt her neck flush, her lips part, her pulse begin to speed and a thick, insistent throbbing begin inside her.

"I... think we're done," she said eventually, her voice impossibly low and husky to her own ears. "Uh... how d'you feel?"

"Mm, so much better. Like I'm floating," the other woman murmured, still sitting comfortably close, her head bowed in relaxation. "Thank you so much, Robin. I feel like I should be paying you for this, it's so nice."

"Hey, not at all, don't be silly." It's my pleasure. Believe me. Robin had to force herself to turn away against every instinct in her body to shift closer still, and she reached for her wine again, knocking back the last of her glass and reaching for the bottle to top herself up, hesitating as she eyed Beth's near-finished glass - though she could probably get away with another and still legally drive, she strongly suspected that she would be inclined to stop at one.

Indeed, as the other woman sunk back against the pillows she sighed lightly and waved a hand dismissively at the glass. "I'm fine, but please don't let me stop you."

Thinking darkly that she was most certainly not going to let Beth stop her from attempting to drink away her now humming libido, Robin topped up her own glass before relaxing back a little on the couch again.

"Mm... So tell me some more about the things you learned on your travels," Beth implored now with a winning, if somewhat relaxed, smile. "Do you speak any other languages?"

Relieved to be onto a nice, 'normal' topic, Robin nodded. "Actually, yeah. I speak pretty good French, a little bit of Spanish and Italian, and I know enough to get by in a few of the local languages in Sub-Saharan Africa."

"Wow," Beth said, eyebrows winging upwards. "That's... Impressive."

Robin shook her head, waving a hand. "Once you've learned one another isn't that hard. And really, I doubt I remember any Bambara at all any more, apart from some random vocab words."

"Still. All I've got is some gringo Spanish," Beth replied, smirking. "Probably not even enough to get by in Tijuana, much less the Sahara."

"Well, in the Sahara French is more useful," Robin said with a grin. "But really, you learn what you need, you know? And so much of it is about what you get into your head as a kid, too - I teach the kids little bits of Spanish in school."

"A little more practical than Bambara, I guess..."

"Hey, you never know! But yeah, maybe a little."

Grinning, Beth stretched her legs out in front of her, still looking like she was about to melt into the cushions. "So go on, say something in French. Or Italian. I need proof."

Robin smiled a little, "I... Okay, uh..." She hesitated. Then, "[something that you're going to have to write that means something like 'I wish I could tell you how I feel about you, but I value you too highly as a friend.'] or similar]"

"Oh, that's beautiful," Beth sighed, not unpredictably. Then, of course, came "What does it mean?"

"Don't drink and speak French," Robin deadpanned.

Chuckling, Beth folding her hands on her stomach, tipping her head to look up at the other woman. "I don't know, the French seem to manage it okay..."

Smiling along, Robin turned a little toward Beth again, sipping at her wine for a moment in silence. "So what about you? Any hidden talents?"

"Oh, goodness... No languages, that's for sure. And no instruments - I've got the dexterity for them, but I'm pretty tone deaf."

"So all sports, all the time then?"

"Pretty much, mm. There was the fateful month I tried to take up dancing..."

"Line dancing or ballroom dancing?"

Beth snorted with laughter. "Neither - swing."

"Wow, ambitious - I'm impressed."

"Well, I wouldn't be - I wasn't very good at it. Apparently I'm not a very good follower."

Robin fought a slight smirk. "Did you try leading?"

The other woman blinked. "No... I guess I didn't."

"When I did Salsa in College there were always more women than men, so I used to lead," Robin commented. "It was a good way of getting to stay on the floor all night."

"Yeah, but you're all tall and strong. And coordinated, too. I bet it was easy for you," Beth said, waving a hand.

"Oh, so what? I've known plenty of guys shorter than you who were perfectly good leads," Robin said with a grin.

"Okay, well, if I ever go back maybe I'll try leading," Beth countered, making a face at her friend. "Happy?"

"Hey, it was just a suggestion," Robin said, holding up her free hand with a grin, the other still cradling her wine glass. "I'm not trying to bully you."

"I know, I know. Of course not. Just show off!" Beth grinned back.

Robin's smirk faded a tiny bit at this. "I don't know about that. I don't think I'll be doing any dancing any time soon," she said.

The other woman's grin slid from her face, and she sat forward quickly, eyebrows drawn together wth worry. "Oh God, Robin, I'm sorry, I didn't mean it that way at all..."

But Robin was already shaking her head, lifting a hand to brush the issue away. "No, no, sugar, it's fine, I know that. Really, you have nothing to be sorry about."

But Beth didn't look convinced, reaching out to put a hand on Robin's knee. "I should've thought before I said anything. Sometimes I can be so stupid."

"I, uh..." Robin wasn't generally prone to being lost for words, but around Beth all bets seemed to be off, and particularly when the suddenly hypersensitive skin of her leg was only a thin, smooth layer of worn denim away from the other woman's warm, strong hand. She shook her head again while she scrambled for words, and she watched her hand lift of its own accord to cover Beth's. "It's really okay," she managed eventually, dragging her eyes from Beth's hand on her knee up to meet the other woman's gaze as squarely as she could.

"I'm glad," Beth said, and then to complicate things further she gave Robin's knee a light squeeze, her features relaxing slightly. "I'd never forgive myself if I upset you. I hope you know that."

"Oh, don't say that," Robin said, drawing her brows together briefly. "People get upset sometimes, it's rarely really anyone's fault. I would hate to think of you beating yourself up. After that time in the café... you have no idea how angry I was with myself for my reaction, how it had upset you-"

"Like you said, it wasn't anyone's fault. Please, the sooner we can forget about that, the better." Still Beth didn't move away, moistening her lips and then swallowing heavily. "Robin..."

"Well, that's what I w- yes?"

But it seemed that whatever Beth had intended to say she decided against it, as she shook her head, looking down at their hands and swallowing again. "Nothing. I'm sorry I brought this up, especially after such a nice night."

"Don't be." Robin curled her fingers around Beth's hand, this time consciously in an effort to set her mind at rest. "Really. I've had a lovely evening. I... like having you here." What was she going to say? her mind screamed, and she desperately wanted to ask Beth to tell her but couldn't think how to without it seeming strange and besides, it couldn't have been that significant, could it?

"I like being here," Beth said, sounding a little surprised herself.

"Shame it's too far to walk home, huh?" Robin said with a wry smile and a glance at the nearly half-full bottle of red wine on the coffee table.

This seemed the remind the other woman of their surroundings and she looked then at her watch, looking slightly shocked when she saw how late it had gotten. "Oh, I had no idea... You must be dying for me to go," she said, frowning.

"What? No, no, not at all," Robin insisted. "Actually, I... Well, I was only going to say that Savannah's berth's still made up. I mean, I don't know how early you have to get moving in the morning..."

"Oh, not 'til quite late - eight or nine, at least..."

"I mean, not that I'm trying to pressure you into helping me finish this wine. But, well, offer's there." Robin tried to sound casual. Hell, she was trying to feel casual - after all, there was nothing untoward in what she was suggesting, only her own nagging guilt at things left unsaid.

Beth hesitated, obviously torn between doing the responsible thing - going home - and prolonging the enjoyable evening. After a long moment, she smiled and nodded, giving Robin's leg another light squeeze. "All right, I'll stay."

At this, Robin moved away, though it was ostensibly to top up Beth's glass. "In that case, shall we put on some music or something? No TV, I'm afraid - if I watch anything it tends to be on my laptop..."

"Music would be great."

 

It turned out that as with most other passtimes and interests the two women shared, they had a pretty big overlap in music also, and after a little while scrolling through Robin's mp3 player (it seemed she was a fan of digitising almost every media), Beth found some blues, and happily popped the player into the speaker port next to the window. Rich music rolled out over the cabin of the boat, and the two women relaxed back onto the sofa, glasses of wine in hand, for some time, neither one feeling the need to break the now comfortable silence.

"Now, blues I imagine I could still dance to," Robin said eventually, smiling lazily and tipping her head back against the seat behind her. She wasn't sure why she brought the topic up again, only that she wanted Beth to know that though she might have struck a sore spot, it was an old wound, one that didn't hurt too badly, one that she didn't mind talking about. She didn't want to warn the other woman off. Hell, more and more I want to tell her everything, even things I shouldn't...

"I don't think I've ever seen blues dancing," Beth murmured. "What's it like?"

"It's... slow. And close."

"Mm, sounds nice. Did you do the leading in that, too?"

Robin chuckled, circling her glass slightly and watching the movement of the dark liquid inside it. "I have done. It depends."

Beth cocked her head. "On what?"

"Well, on who I'm dancing with, I suppose," Robin said with a shrug. "Or the mood I'm in. Blues is pretty flexible."

"Hm." Beth finished her wine and then set it down resolutely on the coffee table, then sat up, looking over at Robin curiously. "Show me?"

When hell freezes over. That ache of need inside Robin returned full-force, but she shook her head with a wry smile. "I don't think so, sugar," she said, her tone fond but decisive.

Was it her imagination that the disappointment on Beth's face was out of proportion to the reaction she had expected? The other woman certainly seemed more upset than a denial of a bit of fun would have warranted as she frowned and reached to top up her glass again.

The ache turned into a twist. What had she done? Did Beth think that she was implying she was a lost cause as a dancer, was this something she was insecure about? Or was it something else, something she daren't even entertain?

Nevertheless, she placed her own glass down on the table, then, and pushed to her feet, holding a hand out. "C'mere then."

Surprised by the sudden turnaround, the other woman was still for a second, though she was soon on her feet, reaching for Robin's hand.

"Okay, so you've done some swing, so some of the rules are the same," Robin said, stepping backward a little to put a little bit of space around them. "Keep your weight nice and low, feel the beat and my lead from your core, but this is closer, with a looser frame - nearly all of my lead's going to come from this hand..." with these words, deliberately preventing herself from showing any hesitation, Robin moved her right hand around to rest it just above the small of Beth's back, beneath her shoulderblades.

"Mm... okay," Beth breathed, giving a slight nod of her head. Robin could tell the controlled, slightly tense way she held her body - habit after years of sports, or something else? Was she starting to catch on to Robin's feeling for her? But if she was why would she have put them in this position?

"You're a little stiff," Robin murmured, "but we'll work on that. The other thing to get used to is that this isn't ballroom so we don't need our other hands like this," she said, nodding to their other hands, which were currently raised in the 'classical' position. She drew their hands down level with her thigh, turning hers to cover Beth's. "We can have them like this. Or this," she said, lifting their hands and pulling in close, cradling Beth's against the slight hollow where her collarbone met her shoulder. "Or in fact unless I was turning you or something we don't need these hands at all." She didn't, however, let go.

"This is very different to the dancing I've done... I'm sorry if I step on your feet." Beth's eyes looked very dark in the dim light of the cabin, her cheeks very pink.

"You won't," Robin said, moving slightly closer and putting one foot between Beth's, their knees touching. After all, we're here now. "So now you just... find the beat, and follow my lead."

Beth clearly had some competence - she found the beat easily enough, its slow rhythm permeating the cabin around them. She seemed resistant at first to follow Robin's lead, occasionally turning the wrong way or crowding too close, but as the song continued she relaxed, slowly, and began to move in tandem with the other woman's guidance.

"See, you're not a bad dancer at all," Robin said, shifting her hand to create some space between them to guide Beth past her and then back round into her arms. "You just need to relax." Of course, as Beth began to get the hang of it, to move more easily with the beat, to feel the more subtle directions of Robin's hand on her back, the mood changed a little from one of instruction to... something else. She wasn't sure yet what.

"I think it just means that you're a good teacher," Beth responded, her eyes firmly fixed on a point below Robin's shoulder.

Robin chuckled in an attempt to break the tension which didn't quite succeed, but with Beth's body still compliant and responsive in her arms she released her for another turn, this time smoothly reversing their 'hold', bringing her left hand to rest on Beth's shoulder and dropping her right down by her side. "You lead, then," she offered.

"Oh; um..." glancing up with something akin to panic in her eyes, Beth took hold of Robin's hand, grasping it tightly as she slid her hand around to her back. "Okay, so... What do I do?"

Swallowing, hard, Robin shifted their legs around, taking a moment to flex the muscles of her weak leg slightly - it felt not too bad for the moment. "Just put me where you want me," she said, her voice still mercifully smooth and calm. "I go where your hand guides me. Think of it as though... as though I'm threaded on a string between your heart and your hand." Though she'd used the metaphor before when explaining dancing, to all sorts of people all over the world, it had never felt quite so apt.

"Alright..." Taking a deep breath, Beth began to lead them through the steps of the dance, mimicking what Robin had done earlier. Perhaps it was because the taller woman was a better follower or more experienced, but they soon slipped into an easy rhythm, Beth swaying gently, clasping Robin's hand close the entire time.

"See? It's just... doing whatever feels natural," Robin murmured quietly as one song ended and another began.

"I guess I just never expected dancing to feel natural," Beth replied softly, glancing up as if to judge Robin's willingness to continue. One song could be justified as 'learning' but any more.... well, she wasn't sure if she could convince herself that it was just about learning a new skill even now.

For the first time since they'd begun to dance she found herself looking right into Robin's eyes, and she realised how close they were standing, faces perhaps a shade above a hand's breadth apart. The other woman had had her head turned to the side to look past Beth but she turned it now to look down at her, and Beth could clearly see her smooth skin, cheeks slightly flushed, eyes heavy lidded. She didn't move away.

Oh Sweet Jesus... Beth felt a sudden and insistent need rush through her, her knees growing weak. She had been ignoring small tugs of it all night, unsure or perhaps unable to grasp what might be causing them, but it was suddenly very clear. Robin. It had always been Robin. And now here she was, so close, so warm, and it was all Beth could do not to cry out in surprise and alarm.

Beth must have allowed something to register on her face, because Robin did move, now, her eyebrows drawing together a little, her expression quizzical. "You okay? Is it your back?"

"Y-yes," Beth stammered, then shook her head. "No. I... need to sit down, I think." Releasing Robin, she took several small steps backward and then turned to sit heavily on the sofa.

Moving a shade more stiffly than she had before, Robin took her seat again beside her, leaning to reach for her wine glass in silence. What the hell was that about? Had she given herself away?

"Sorry, I... It's been a long time since I've had this much to drink," Beth said lamely. "I think it's all gone to my head."

Robin felt sure there was more to it than that, but she wasn't sure she wanted to know the truth, so she just nodded. "Red wine can do that," she said with a chuckle.

"I think maybe I should head to bed... Unless you'd prefer I go home." Beth sounded almost hopeful.

"What? No, no, you can't tell me the wine's gone to your head and expect me to let you get in a truck, don't be ridiculous," Robin said, shaking her head, pushing to her feet once more. "I'll fetch you something to wear," she said, nodding toward the narrow corridor on the way to her own berth that housed her wardrobe, "I'm pretty sure there's an unopened toothbrush in the little cabinet above the sink in bathroom if you want it."

"Mm. Thanks." in truth, Beth hadn't been planning on driving - she was hoping for a good long walk to clear her head. What she was going to get instead was a restless night with far too much time to think - something she didn't particularly want to do just now.

 

Robin found herself staring into her cupboard for some time, unmoving, unable to focus on the job at hand. There was a war going on inside her, her libido, her emotions - hell, even her instincts were telling her that the signs she was getting from Beth were unmistakable, that the other woman had feelings for her that went beyond friendship.

But the rational part of her mind just couldn't support the idea of acting on what she felt. Even if Beth was attracted to her, she reasoned, it could be disasterous, breaking apart the friendship that had become so important to her. And then there was the worry, the even worse scenario, that she was wrong, and Beth's behavour was fuelled by wine and perhaps some unconscious sense of Robin's own feelings, the urge to back away from that.

Either way, she mused as she finally reached for a thin, long teeshirt that would be suitable for sleeping in, no good could come of it. She hadn't brought Beth home intending some sort of revelation and she wasn'tabout to now. However much she wanted to.

"Thanks," the other woman murmured gratefully when she returned, accepting the proffered teeshirt and standing. Her gaze didn't quite meet Robin's as she then asked, "Is it just over there then?" and motioned along the tiny corridor behind them.

"Huh? Oh, yes, you're in the prow," Robin replied with a smile that she hoped looked less preoccupied than she felt.

"Great. Okay. Well... I'll see you in the morning, I guess," Beth murmured. "Thanks for a really nice night..."

"It was my pleasure," Robin said with conviction. She hesitated, then reached a hand across the space between them, touching Beth's arm lightly, briefly in what she hoped counted as an innocent gesture of affection but more stemmed from her fear that that night she had probably been closer to Beth - physically at least - than she ever would be again.

The other woman smiled and leaned in out of habit, only realising as she inhaled the scent of Robin's skin that this was not her sister she was kissing goodnight. Her heart hammered as she continued the motion, too scared to jerk away now, her lips brushing lightly over the taller woman's cheek. She felt a sigh breeze lightly past her own cheek and Robin's fingers curled around her arm, seemingly of their own accord as she looked as surprised as Beth when they pulled apart and were still standing so close. "Sleep well, sugar," Robin said quietly, her face unmistakably flushed now.

"You... too," Beth mumbled, biting her lip before pulling her arm away gently from the other woman's grasp and turning to flee into the small room that awaited her.

Robin watched her go, her mind still a mess of contradictions and bemusement, her cheek tingling where Beth had kissed her. Then she turned off the music, and all the lights bar one lamp by the couch, sitting down and picking up her wine glass and her e-reader, though the latter found itself propped on one thigh, largely ignored. She wasn't going to be sleeping any time soon.

 

The next morning Beth awoke early, feeling surprisingly well-rested. She had thought upon going to bed that she would not manage even a wink, but no sooner had her head hit the pillow than she was out like a light. That meant, of course, that all the thoughts and problems that had plagued her the night before came swarming back, stronger than ever.

Not seeing Robin as she crept out into the main room, Beth crossed the cabin and exited through the side doors out onto the small verandah that overlooked the river. The murky water and familiar birdsound was always soothing to her, and she had never needed it more than she did right now.

Her mind sifted through the previous night, piece by piece, right from her conversation with Jenny to dinner to the film to here, and from there, despite the heady effects of the wine it felt as though the whole night was in sharp focus even now - Robin's warm fingers working across her aching muscles, Robin's hand resting on her back, Robin's thigh brushing against hers as they moved to the beat of the music, Robin's fresh, natural scent, Robin's cheek beneath her lips...

Clenching the railing in both hands, Beth closed her eyes tightly, trying to rid herself of these thoughts. She didn't need this ache riding her, distracting her from the things she knew to be true: that Robin was a friend, a good friend; and what was more, Savannah's teacher. Though Beth tried to act as if the whispers and looks didn't affect her at all, the scandal that trailed after her even now had made her shy and even a little scared. What good would she be doing her daughter, indulging in thoughts like these? What good would she be doing herself?

As she stood, eyes on the river, mind so occupied, she didn't even realise that she wasn't the only one awake until the smell of fresh coffee wafted out through the window to her nose. She jumped at the aroma and then cursed herself, taking a moment to prepare herself before padding back into the interior of the houseboat. Robin was as expected pottering around the galley, feet bare, clad in a loose teeshirt and what looked to be boxer shorts, hair tied back loosely, strands of it escaping around her face.

She looked up with a somewhat tired smile, but asked, "How do you take your eggs?"

"I, uh... Oh. I was planning to go soon, get out of your hair..."

"Oh c'mon, you can't let me lead you astray and then not let me at least cook your breakfast," Robin protested, pouring coffees for them both.

Biting her lip, Beth hesitated but was undone by the rumbling in her stomach and her growing need to be around Robin as often as she could manage. "Alright. But next time I get to return the favor." realizing the implication of her words she blushed deeply and grabbed her coffee as if she would be able to hide behind the mug.

Robin glanced up quickly at this and Beth caught the brief flash of surprise that crossed her features, but a second later it was gone. "So that brings us back to the matter at hand. Eggs. How d'you want 'em?"

"Um. Scrambled. Please."

 

Eggs were scrambled, toast was made, tomatoes were fried and soon the pair, coffees topped up, were seated side by side on the couch tucking into a hearty breakfast. Beth ate in near-silence, though she did break it in order to compliment the other woman on her culinary skills - Robin waving off the compliment, arguing that 'anyone can do eggs'.

"Besides, it's the least I can do after kidnapping you," she said lightly.

"You didn't... You know that I chose to stay, right?" Beth asked between mouthfuls, feeling somewhat awkward.

"Mm? Oh, I'm kidding," Robin said, waving a hand. "Sorry, I'm just, y'know. Mouth open, words coming out. I'm not very coherent on Sunday mornings. Apparently. Out of practice I guess."

"Oh. Well. The feeling is mutual, I guess," Beth said with a nervous grin.

"What feeling?" Robin said, a little too quickly. "I mean, oh, yeah, well. Sunday mornings, huh?"

"I guess so." Beth fell silent, poking at the last of her eggs with a distant expression on her face.

Robin was already finished with her food, and she sat back now, coffee cradled between her hands, with a contented sigh. "So do you have plans today?"

"Just picking up Savannah, then going to my sister's for Sunday dinner," the other woman replied, looking up from her plate. "Tradition."

"Sounds lovely," Robin said with a smile, stretching a little where she sat, and Beth's eyes couldn't help but trail briefly down her lean, toned figure as she did so, though she was stopped suddenly in her tracks by the long, neat surgical scar that could be seen emerging from her shorts, running down the side of the thigh of her injured leg almost to her knee. It tipped a bucket of cold water over her thoughts, and instead of the insistent ache she had been feeling almost non-stop since last night she instead felt a twinge of sadness. She knew Robin would not want her pity, but she couldn't help but feel bad for the once supremely active woman now hobbled by happenstance and bad luck.

"Um, yeah," she murmured, after what she realized was a long silence. "Usually Jenny cooks, but I'll be doing it for the next while. Heaven forbid Hank actually set foot in the kitchen..."

"A 'real man', is he?"

"Mm, something like that." Beth's tone clearly showed what she thought of 'real men'.

"Well, at least she's got you to take care of her."

"I guess so. Speaking of which, I probably should go... Have to go shopping after I get Savannah, and get her home before we head out again..." Beth trailed off, aware that she sounded like she was making excuses. "But, um, thank you for this. For breakfast, and last night, and everything else."

Robin just smiled and shook her head. "No need, I had a really lovely night," she said, turning a little to look at Beth properly. "Have a good Sunday, okay?" she warned. "Don't work too hard."

"Thanks. I hope you do too. Have a nice Sunday, I mean."

"I'll see you soon?" Was it Beth's imagination that Robin sounded a little trepidatious as she asked this?

"Mm. Of course. Are you coming to the school concert?"

"Oh, I don't think I could get out of that even if I wanted to," Robin said with a grin - that Thursday night was to be a revue performance from the whole elementary school, every class having slaved for weeks on little sketches and action songs.

"Well then. I'm sure I'll see you then."

"I'll look forward to it."

Beth glanced over at the other woman and smiled shyly as she rose, readying herself to go. "Me too."

 

After insisting to help take their few dishes and stack them by the sink, Beth took her leave, their slightly awkward goodbye nonetheless punctuated with genuinely fond expressions that gave Robin some hope that, perhaps, they would at least continue to be friends after the strange and occasionally somewhat emotionally wrought evening they'd spent together. She left the dishes to soak, sinking back onto her couch with a quiet groan. She was underslept, her leg was killing her from the dancing the previous night, and as her attraction to Beth grew so did her confusion. She had spent a good portion of the previous night, awake and pondering, and had come to very little in the way of conclusions, save perhaps one: if she and Beth grew any closer, she was definitely going to do something she regretted.

 

"Beth. Honey. We need to talk." Jenny had waited until after dinner to corner her sister in the kitchen. The kids were in the backyard playing, Hank was stretched in front of the TV, gently snoring, and the two women were alone (save for the sleeping baby in Jenny's arms).

"Mmhmm? What about?" Beth asked, not even looking up from the dishes she was currently scrubbing.

"Brandi said she saw you leaving that teacher's place early this morning. Now what was that all about?"

"Oh. Um. Nothing, really. I was just going to pick up Savannah."

Jenny shook her head. "That's not the point. What were you doing there so early in the morning?"

"I didn't go over that early - I stayed the night." Beth's voice was annoyed, and very defensive. "I drank too much to drive home, so Robin let me stay with her. Not that it's your business at all."

Her sister managed, somehow, to look hurt and disapproving at the same time. "What do you mean it's none of my business? What were you up to that's none of my business - I'm your sister - I care about you!"

"Which is why you're nosing into my business now? You've asked what I was doing, I told you, now can you please just drop it?"

Jenny frowned, her interest clearly piqued by Beth's defensiveness. "Did she... do anything?" she asked obliquely.

"'Do anything'? You make it sound like you expect her to be practicing witchcraft in front of me or something," Beth exclaimed, exasperated.

"No, no, she just... She can be kind of... obsessive?" Jenny used the world doubtfully, as though she felt sure there was a better one.

"Uh... okay," her sister replied, shooting Jenny a dubious look. "Well, she wasn't."

"She isn't..." Jenny frowned again. "Overaffectionate with you? Anything like that?"

This made Beth pause, though she pretended to be taken up with scrubbing at a particularly stubborn pan. "Don't be silly," she finally replied, trying to keep her voice light.

Jenny didn't missed this, and she stepped a little closer, then something seemed to occur to her. "Hey, she has a spare bed on that thing, right? You two weren't..."

This time Beth did look genuinely shocked. "Jenny!"

If anything this only made Jenny look more concerned. "Well, does she?" she pressed.

"Yes! The same bed that Savannah stayed in when I was looking after the boys." Beth's hands were shaking, though she wasn't sure whether it was from anger or nerves.

However Jenny chose to take it, she seemed to relent a little, now. "Honey, I'm just trying to look out for you. You know that, right? I know people change, but there are some things about a person that... well, that usually don't."

Is she saying... Beth felt the pan slip out of her hands, back into the soapy water. Blushing, she hurriedly picked it up, putting it onto the draining board and then stepped away from the sink. "I've heard enough, Jenny. Robin's my friend and I'm not going to gossip about her behind her back."

"I'm not gossiping, I'm..." Jenny seemed to realise that this wasn't a fruitful path of discussion, and she relented. "All right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to imply anything uncalled for," she said in that way that suggested that she thought what she had implied was 'called for'. "Just... take care, okay?" she said, not for the first time. "Don't let yourself get swept along."

"Fine. okay. Whatever. I have to get Savannah home, she's got homework."

 

She tried to brush away what Jenny had said. She knew from what she and Robin had each implied that the pair hadn't been close in school, so how would Jenny know what Robin was really like, then or now? As she walked the short distance from Jenny's house to hers, though, hand-in-hand with her daughter, she couldn't help her mind wandering to what Jenny had said... 'She isn't... overaffectionate with you?'

Had Robin done anything that Beth had been uncomfortable with? Had she done anything that Beth hadn't specifically engineered - even tricked - her into doing? She could tell how uncomfortable Robin had been at times, but that didn't mean that Beth hadn't begged for a massage, hadn't guilted her into dancing... Anything to be closer to her, no matter how strange and frightening the feelings she inspired were.

She remembered the fact that the teeshirt she'd worn overnight was now rolled up neatly in a bag on her back seat - she'd taken it to wash it before returning it and hadn't asked ostensibly because she didn't want Robin to argue that she didn't need to. She couldn't deny that there was a serious temptation to wear it in bed tonight before putting it in the laundry pile, to spend another night with the faint scent of Robin's detergent, Robin's home. If anyone's behaving obsessively, it's me.

 

Luckily the beginning of the week was busy enough that Beth had no time to worry about anything, much less how she felt about Robin or what she would say to her the next time she saw her. The volunteer project needed a lot of preparation work, and Savannah had to be shepherded around back and forth from a multitude of last-minute rehearsals for Thursday evening's performance.

When the night finally came, then, Beth met it with a mixture of relief and trepidation. She knew Robin would be there and as such dressed a bit more carefully than she otherwise would have, in a pair of light linen shorts and a sleeveless shirt with an intricate paisley pattern.

If she was expecting time to prepare herself for running into Robin, she was to be thrwarted, for the teacher was the first person she saw as she entered the school gym, sitting behind the table set up by the door to collect and sell tickets for the evening's performance.

"Do you have a ticket already?" Robin looked up with a merry smile, her expression freezing momentarily as she realised who she was addressing, though her face relaxed a moment later, her smile remaining. "Oh, hey you," she said, and Beth fancied she that her tone had turned a little fonder.

"Hi," Beth said, and she couldn't help the grin that grew on her lips. "I don't have a ticket - I figured it probably wouldn't sell out."

"I suppose I can find a seat for you somewhere... How've you been?" Robin asked as she took Beth's proferred bill, eyes flickering between the job at hand the queue behind Beth as though sizing up how long she could procrastinate over the transaction.

"Just fine, thanks - what about yours?"

There was a moment of hesitation, and Beth saw Robin bite something back before she nodded and smiled. "Busy," was all she said, holding out Beth's ticket. "Jenny and Hank are already inside, if you want to find them. I'll... see you at the interval?"

"Definitely." Beth took her ticket, lingering for a moment as she tried to think of a reason to stay, but the people behind her began to grow impatient and she was foced to move inside.

 

The children were, of course, adorable. Robin was ushering, which meant of course that she was spending the evening sat just inside the gym door, discouraging people from leaving or entering during numbers or, if they had to, making sure that they did so as quietly as possible, but she was still able to get a decent view of the stage and thoroughly enjoyed the enthusiasm and character that the kids brought to their performances, whether song or theatre. Nevertheless, the cuteness and atonality got a little grating eventually, even for an elementary teacher, and Robin was glad when the interval rolled around, not least because she would hopefully find a few moments to talk to Beth.

What the interval brought, however, was an encounter of a rather less pleasant kind not with Beth, but with her older sister. She was standing in the corridor outside the gym, doing her bit to help point audience members in the right direction for the restrooms, when she was approached by Jenny [Surname]. She smiled in greeting, and Jenny returned the gesture, though it had no warmth to it.

"Ms Davis. Enjoying the show?"

Robin immediately felt her stomach clench with anxiety, but she just favoured Jenny with an easy, polite smile. "Please, Jenny, it's Robin - Ms Davis is for the kids - and parents whose kids I've given bad report cards," she added jokingly. "And yes, very much. How have you been? How's little Michael?"

Jenny narrowed her eyes suspiciouly at the other woman. "Just fine. Listen, Robin... I know you've been spending a lot of time lately with my sister."

Oh God... has Beth said something? Has Jenny said something? Old memories resurfaced suddenly and Robin almost visibly winced. "That's right," was all she said, in the most innocent tone she could muster.

"And, well," Jenny continued, as if she hadn't heard Robin at all,"I think maybe you should think about what you're doing. Beth's had enough trouble to last her a lifetime - she does't need any more."

Though her sinking feeling increased at this Robin wasn't overly surprised by Jenny's words, and she already had her quickly prepared answer. "Beth's her own person, Jenny. I'm not 'doing' anything. I promise you."

"Beth's also a sweet girl. It might be easy to see that sweetness as something else," Jenny replied sharply. "But just because she doesn't know is no reason for you to take advantage of her."

"God, Jenny, it's what, sixteen years on and you make the same assumptions?" Robin said, growing frustrated now. "I am safe to be around, y'know. I don't just try to jump every woman I meet - and whatever you think you know, I've never taken advantage of anyone." Jenny's words did stab a little into her, though, reminding her that she really could be imagining the nature of how Beth might feel about her, and she sighed. "Listen, I swear to you that I have never and will never make any assumptions about Beth, however sweet she might be. Not that it's any of your business," she added, unable to just bite her tongue in time.

"Beth is my sister - you had better believe it's my business! And don't you try to tell me you haven't thought of it - I know she spent the night at your 'house', and so does the rest of the town. And we're all going to be keeping an eye on you, you had better believe that."

Now Robin was incredulous. "If Beth doesn't care what 'the rest of the town' thinks I really don't see why I should," she said determinedly. "I've told you that there's nothing going on and that's the truth, but Jenny, if there was, why wouldn't you want her to be happy if that was what she wanted? Is the idea so disgusting to you? Brookford may be old fashioned, but it's not stone-aged - whatever the whole town seems to know you don't seem to mind me teaching your impressionable kids."

"It's one thing to be... What you are," Jenny replied, her voice dropping lower now, her entire demeanor furtive. "It's another thing to... do anything. Especially with someone like Beth. Frankly, you can act however you like - I don't care! But leave Beth out of it. She rarely knows what's best for her - do you really want your reputation making things harder for her? For Savannah?"

"And you know what's best, do you?" Robin asked flatly, barely any query in her tone - the argument would now, she knew, take a pretty predictable turn, and she already knew all the ins and outs. She wasn't ignorant, of course, to the fact that if anything even happened between herself and Beth it could have a profound effect on their lives in a place like Brookford. And in truth she really didn't know how she felt about that, although she felt a little as though the decision was out of her hands no matter how much she attempted to fight for control, so strong were her feelings becoming. But she didn't need to hear about it from Jenny.

"Listen, honey. You don't know what she's been through. Beth needs someone looking out for her, and whether you like it or not that someone is me. So if you do anything to hurt her - anything at all - you're going to have to deal with me." For a bleach blonde ex-cheerleader Jenny could be surprisingly threatening. "Understand?"

A multitude of arguments bubbled up in Robin's mind - about Beth, about her, about Jenny's supposed duty of care. But she just gritted her teeth, and nodded. "I know what you're saying."

"Good." Apparently satisfied that her message had gotten across, Jenny eyes the other woman up for a moment and then gave a nod. "Well then. The show's going to start soon. Good bye, Robin."

More shaken than she'd like to admit by the whole affair Robin watched Jenny depart, fighting the urge to flee to the bathroom to gather herself together, but looking at her watch she saw there were indeed only couple of minutes under she would be needed a the door again. Pressing her hands to her cheeks to cool them, she glanced about her and her eyes lit immediately on the familiar face of Beth approaching, expression unreadable. Had she seen her and Jenny talking? How long had she been watching?

"Is everything okay?" Beth asked as she reached her, her tone concerned. "I saw you and Jenny talking - what did she say?" That at least answered that question.

"Oh, she was..." Robin felt a somewhat panicked laugh threaten to escape her throat, and she grinned weakly. "Just... talking old times."

"Oh." Clearly unsure what this meant, or why Robin looked slightly ill, Beth chewed her lower lip. "She... didn't say anything to upset you, did she? Jenny can be kind of... difficult sometimes."

"Yeah, uh... Oh, no, no, it was fine, she just..." Robin tried to gather herself together, but her brain seemed disinclined to connect her back to reality just yet. "Why?" she asked then, looking closely at Beth, as though there was a secret message somewhere in her features. "Do you have reason to think she would?"

"Well, she seems to think... Hey, isn't that the show starting? C'mon, let's go in." With that, Beth grabbed Robin's hand, tugging her towards the door to the auditorium, but Robin pulled back reflexively, slipping her hand out of her grip.

"I've got to..." Robin gestured vaguely. "Y'know. Usher."

Beth's expression fell, though she rallied and tried for a hopeful smile. "Well, then, I'll sit in the back with you. Savannah really wanted you to see her part, so this way I make sure you're-"

"I'll be off by the door - I'll be there, but you'll need to sit with the rest of the audience - you'll get a better view that way." Robin said, beginning to babble slightly.

"Oh, uh, okay..." Beth shrank back, looking suddenly quite young and vulnerable. "All right. Well. I'll... see you later, then."

Robin nodded, internally horrified to feel a hot prickle behind her eyes. "Uh. Yeah."

 

"Mom, mom, what did you think?" Savannah pranced around her mother, the antenna of her ladybug costume bouncing with her.

"Hm? Oh, it was very nice, honey..." Beth replied distractedly, glancing around the busy hall. Robin was nowhere to be seen, though it was possible of course that was busy ushering people safely out of the gym.

She stood a moment longer, waiting hopefully, but eventually she had to concede that if Robin was around, she didn't want to be seen. Heart heavy despite the relative levity of the evening, she headed home, Savannah in tow. Savannah, blissfully unaware, inquired repeatedly what she thought Robin would think, whether she'd seemed excited when they'd spoken at half-time, whether she'd mentioned Savannah, and so on, all the way home.

This only made Beth more irate, and eventually she snapped at the girl, sending her into a sulk and causing Beth to feel even worse about herself. She apologised with ice cream before bedtime, which made her daughter feel better but did nothing to improve her own mood.

Why had Robin been so standoffish with her? Was it something Jenny had said? She didn't seem the type to be swayed that strongly by another person... Maybe the answer was simple - maybe what had happened on Saturday night had been unwelcome. Maybe those moments of closeness, or near-intimacy had been too much, and she was now trying to gracefully withdraw. At the time she was sure it wasn't in her head, but the more time that passed the more she found herself doubting what she thought she'd seen, and the more she worried that what she suspected Jenny was trying to warn her about had come into her mind not because it was the likely scenario but because it had been at the forefront of her mind.

In either case, she wasn't sure what to do. More than anything, she didn't want to lose Robin's friendship - but how could she make things right? She knew she ought to talk to her, apologise, but she found the thought of admitting what she had felt, even if Robin was already aware of it, was too much to bear.

 

Meanwhile, back at the houseboat, Robin was well on her way to drunk on a week night, and more miserable than she had been in a long time.

"See, this, this is exactly what I knew would happen," she said to the ginger tom, who was currently sitting and watching her with mild disapproval. "I ignore reality, get in deeper and deeper until I'm half-way in love with the woman, and then something happens to bring me back down to earth and I'm alone and depressed and she's confused and upset. Well that's just great."

The cat lashed his tail as if to say 'what do you expect me to do about it?' not for the first time Robin felt stupid, talking out loud to an animal. But who else was there?

 

The next few days passed both in a haze and all too slowly for both women. Both had plenty of work to be getting on with, though neither felt very able to really concentrate on anything. Robin, though she threw herself into her job as always, putting every spare shred of energy she had into her teaching, had little of her usual energy left when she got home for the ongoing DIY and upkeep that the houseboat demanded. Similarly, although Beth had caring for her sister to juggle along with her demanding job and equally demanding daughter, she found herself spending long periods of time staring into space, prompting her boss, her daughter, and finally her sister to remark on her distraction.

"Am the boys wearing you out, honey? Look, if I have to get a sitter, I'll get a sitter - I don't want you running yourself ragged..."

"What? Oh, no, don't be silly, it's fine... They're fine," Beth said, shaking her head.

"Are you sure? Because you've barely said two words to me in days..."

The younger woman glanced over sharply at Jenny, ensconsced in her rocking chair with young Michael in her lap. "I... Don't know what you're talking about. I just haven't seen you much, that's all."

"No, you've definitely been quiet - even Aidan commented on it."

"Something on your mind?"

"Mm. Nothing you want to hear about."

Frowning and sitting forward a little, Jenny craned her neck a little, trying to get a better view of Beth's face where she stood sorting laundry. "Try me."

"What did you say to Robin, at the concert?" The question bubbled up before she even realized it.

Perhaps Jenny was ready for the question. Certainly she didn't flinch. "We just had a quick chat about old times," she said, eerily echoing what Robin herself had said at the time.

"Yeah, but what did you say?" Beth balled up a pair of socks, all but throwing them into the basket.

"Does it really matter, honey? What does it matter what me and her talked about - she's not my friend..."

"No, she's not," Beth replied heatedly. "She's mine - or she was. But something you said to her... God, Jenny, what was it?"

Jenny sighed, sitting back in her chair. "I just... reminded her that there was more to life than what she wants. That sometimes you can't just go doing whatever you like and expect it to have no effect on the people around you." Her tone carried a note of grim satisfaction.

"Why in the world would you do that? What has she ever done to you?"

Her sister frowned, looking almost wounded. "To me? Nothing. But she caused a lot of trouble for a close friend of mine, once, and from where I'm standing she was on her way to doing the same thing to my own sister."

"For me? Jenny!"

"Well, you were just going to let it happen!" Jenny said incredulously. "You're too nice, Beth, and way too trusting. Someone's got to look out for you, make the right choices when you won't."

"Jenny!" Beth's outraged exclaimation woke the baby, who began to fuss. "How dare you!" she hissed. "I don't know what you think 'it' is, but I can promise you I don't need to be 'protected' from it.!"

"The hell you don't," Jenny said, though she kept her voice relatively calm now, rising from her chair to stoop over the bassinet. "You would've stood idly by, smiling and picnicking and sleeping over, and let Robin Davis believe whatever she wanted about the two of you - and the whole town with her. She had to know I wasn't going to let that happen this time."

"I can't believe you! What I do with my private life is nobody's business but my own!" Beth stepped away from the laundry basket, nearly trembling with anger.

"But you don't see what's right in front of you, Beth - do I have to spell it out?"

"You don't have to do anything because it's none of your business! Just... Stop intefering with my life, okay? I was actually happy for once and you ruined it!"

Jenny looked round at this, her brow furrowing as she lifted Michael into her arms, cradling him against her chest. "What are you trying to say, honey?"

"I... I don't know!" Beth felt tears prick her eyes and took a deep, shuddering breath. "Just... Stop trying to tell me what to do. Not everybody wants to be just like you."

Her sister raised her eyebrows. "You don't want to be just like Robin either. Do you?" Now Beth could hear a tiny note of worry to her tone.

"What if I do?" Beth challenged angrily. "Why would that be so bad?"

Jenny seemed momentarily floored by this, her mouth opening slightly, though no sound came out. Eventually, she managed to find words. "After everything Svannah's been through - everything this family has been through, you really have to ask that question?"

Beth struggled to answer this; anger and helplessness welled up in equal measure. "I didn't mean for it to happen," she managed eventually, her voice weak.

The older woman's eyes widened. "For what to happen? What did you do?"

"Nothing! Nothing! We didn't do anything!"

Jenny relaxed a little. "All right. Well. Good."

With a heavy sigh Beth turned back to the laundry, feeling numb. Jenny was right. She had to think of Savannah and her family - regardless of whatever her personal feelings might be. Not that she was even sure of those, but Jenny's horrified reaction had been enough. It seemed as though whatever Jenny had said to Robin that had made her break their contact like this, it at least took out of her hands a decision that was threatening to tear her in half, however things had panned out.

 

"Mommy?"

Savannah was wearing her serious face. It was always easy to tell when she was thinking solemn thoughts, because they screwed her little face up into a frown-and-pout combo that make it look as though she was trying to will her own nose to come off. The combination of this expression and her Winnie-the-Pooh pyjamas made Beth want to giggle.

As it was, she settled for a warm smile, gesturing for the girl to join her on the bed. "What is it, honey?"

"Can we go for a picnic this weekend?"

"I guess we could go on Saturday if the weather's nice, sure..."

"Can we stop and pick up Ms Davis again?"

Beth felt a sudden stab of pain. "Oh, honey, I don't think so..."

"But..." Savannah's frown deepened and Beth got the sense she was attempting to convey something that she instinctively understood, but didn't have the right words for. "She's so sad," she said eventually.

Beth couldn't speak for a moment, seeking solace by wrapping her arms around her daughter and resting her cheek on top of her head. "I don't know if a picnic will help," she murmured eventually. "Sometimes... Sometimes people get very sad and it doesn't get better for a long time."

"But she was never sad before," Savannah argued, her voice a little muffled against Beth's arm. "Even with her leg and everything - she was always smiling and telling jokes and stuff."

"And she isn't now?"

Savannah shook her head. "She's still the best teacher ever," she said with her usual fierce loyalty, "but she's really quiet now and she doesn't make jokes any more. Couldn't we just try inviting her to a picnic? I thought you were going to be best friends, and... I thought it might make you happier too," she added after a hesitation, instinctively reluctant to betray that she'd sensed her mother's subdued mood of late, somehow knowing that it wouldn't help to let on that she'd noticed it.

"Oh. Oh honey, I still don't know..." It broke Beth's heart to know that Robin was feeling low - for whatever reasons, as she had no intention of speculating what might have caused the teacher's mood to dip, though she of course had her suspicions. More than anything she wished she could ease her pain, but she was unsure how she might, or if it was even her place. Still, if she had any hope of remaining friends with Robin she needed to do something... surely she could figure out the appropriate action and words. "I think... well. Maybe I'll ask her, but you can't be sad if she says no, okay?"

This seems to pacify Savannah, at least enough for her to nod and move to lie down in bed, pulling her well-worn teddy toward her as Beth released her from her arms. "G'night, mom," she said obediently.

"G'night, honey. I love you. Sleep well."

 

Jan 1st

Weather cleared up - beautiful sunny day.

Packed up 1/2 of my gear and headed up to camp Polacos-2 at 8am. First 1500ft very easy up snow and scree switchback path of the Ameghino basin - spectacular.

Above 18000ft the effects of high elevation kicked in and going was much slower and harder with frequent breaks. Made good time to camp 2 - 4 hrs, usually takes 4-6 hrs for this trip.

Views from camp 2 are stunning - Ameghino summit and the range of mountains behind with peaks 18000-20000ft. Very interesting range of dramatic peaks covered with glaciers and snowfields, definitely worth exploring in future.

Slight headache and tiredness - headache got worse on the way back down due to jarring effect of stepping on uneven and steep path and plunge-stepping down the snowfield - hurt ankle a little. Good dose of ibuprofen and a couple of hours rest, feel much better now (8pm).

 

The sound of a motor cut short Robin's reading - not that she minded. Her leg was already throbbing with remembered pain and as much as she didn't like to she had been considering popping a couple of the heavy-duty painkillers she kept in the bathroom cabinet. She waited until she heard the motor die and then pushed herself up heavily, limping for the door.

She knew who it must be, but that didn't forestall the twisting of her stomach as she stepped outside to see Beth in her ranger uniform looking up at her from the dinghy. "Um. Hi."

Robin nodded. Then, finding her voice she managed a slightly croaky, "Hey."

"I just came by to... are you busy? If you're busy I can leave." The other woman looked torn, as if she wasn't sure whether to hope Robin was free or not.

"I'm not busy." To herself Robin sounded numb - she felt numb, as though her whole body had shut down feeling as a defense mechanism.

"Oh. Okay. Listen, Robin... I came by to talk to you. Can we? Talk?"

Please, no. "All right." Then. "Do you want to come inside?"

"Um, sure." Deftly Beth tied up the dinghy and climbed aboard the houseboat, her expression resolute, if slightly nervous as she followed Robin inside.

Robin gestured toward the couch, but didn't sit down herself, instead moving over to the kitchen counter and supporting herself there. "Can I get you a glass of water? Iced tea?"

"Tea would be great. Thank you."

 

Robin could see that her hands were trembling slightly as she prepared their drinks, but she still couldn't feel anything. "So. What did you want to talk about?"

Faced with such a straight question Beth didn't seem to know how to respond. "Well I... um, well. I think... it's about the other day..."

Robin had to hold in a bitter laugh at 'the other day'. It had been over a week since the school show and neither woman had contacted the other since. "Right."

"I don't know exactly what Jenny said to you - not all of it - but I know that she probably made you think... that we shouldn't be around each other," Beth said, letting out a deep breath. "And I know that's why you acted the way you did, now. Because she said it to me too."

Brow furrowing, the other woman finished pouring Beth's iced tea and then placed her palms flat on the counter. "All right," she said carefully.

"And first of all, just so you know, what Jenny says isn't always right. And it's definitely not always my opinion. She... thinks she knows what's best for me, just because she's got some happy marriage and tons of kids and I'm a screw-up single mom. But that doesn't mean she knows what's right for me, or what's going to make me happy."

Robin pressed her lips together, breathing slowly out through her nose. "She's not wrong about everything, though."

"No... but not everyone cares about the same things she does." Beth seemed to be picking up speed here, pushing ahead, though her cheeks were bright pink with nervousness. "Not everyone has the same priorities."

"Beth, that's not what I mean - if you knew what this was ab-"

"I know what it's about," the ranger interrupted, shaking her head. "At least, I'm pretty sure I do."

Robin was silent, then for a long moment. Then, "Well, look, if you do, then you know why it's no good for you or Savannah spending too much time with me. People will start to get the wrong idea eventually - I thought they'd forgotten, but..."

"You don't think I'm used to it?" Beth asked with a mirthless laugh. "Knowing people are whispering behind your back? Judging you for something they know nothing about?"

"Is that a reason to willfully court it? Sugar, I came back here knowing I might have to wade back into this crap. You don't have to add to your troubles like that, not out of friendship and certainly not on principle."

"It's not just out of principle," Beth insisted, though she looked increasingly more nervous now.

"Beth, they are going to think you are having sex with me."

The silence that followed this was deafening. It wasn't that Beth hadn't thought of this, but the way Robin just said it, bluntly, no euphamism, no hiding behind suggestion. She was looking right at Beth now and even across the room Beth had to fight the urge to flinch.

She balled her hands in her lap, unable to pull her eyes away from the other woman's direct, open gaze. "I... I know," she stammered eventually, swallowing past the lump in her throat.

"And you don't care about that?" Robin ploughed on, stomach twisting in sympathy even as she determined to make sure Beth had to face the facts that she herself had spent the past week wrestling with. "You don't care that people are going to look at your daughter and pity her? 'Look, there's little Savannah Hall - her mother left her husband and now she's fucking the poor kid's teacher - another woman. That doesn't bother you? People thinking that?"

"Please don't say that," Beth said in a small voice.

"You see, you can't even bear to hear it! Beth..." Robin's demeanor softened a little. "This is who I am. I don't make a big deal out of it, but I don't deny it and I won't apologise for it. If we... if I was with someone I would walk through fire for them - I did before. But we aren't. Are you really prepared to go through all of that crap for a friend?"

Beth squeezed her eyes shut, as if trying to block out what Robin was saying - or gather up her courage. "Robin... I haven't told you everything," she whispered then, opening them.

"What else is there to tell?"

"The reason I... should be able to deal with people saying those things... is because maybe I want to."

This time Robin really was lost for words, hands still pressed to the counter in front of her - mercifully for she wasn't sure her legs would properly support her right now. "Beth," she began, shaking her head, "I-"

"Please," Beth interjected, standing suddenly and taking a few tentative steps towards Robin. "I can't bear the thought of you being out here, all alone, holding yourself apart when I'm just... I'm right here, and I want to be there for you, and I want..." She swallowed, shook her head, couldn't seem to get the words out. "Just... please."

"This isn't what you want." Robin could feel herself beginning to lose her grip on the situation - she'd spent so much time and energy drumming this message into herself - that this wasn't what Beth wanted, that if Beth understood what was at stake she would see that a friendship wasn't worth that much trouble and heartache, that she, Robin, had been through worse - she was strong, and she'd get over it. But this... did Beth even realise what she was saying? Had she just been caught up in the moment, swept along by her upset at the injustice of it all? She was right in front of her now, the narrow counter between them, her face red from her embarrassment and nerves, eyes filled with tears and uncertainty, and her hands, when they slid suddenly over Robin's, were trembling.

"I meant," she whispered, "that I should be able deal with people saying that we're... together because I want to be. Together. With you."

Robin felt as though all the air had left her lungs, and it was a long time before she found words. When she did, they tasted bitter in her mouth, and she was only half hearing them herself, "Beth, listen, this isn't... I'm not - I don't..." She was stammering again, her words falling over one another as she pulled her hands out from beneath Beth's. "You don't want to be with me - trust me. I'm a fuck-up - I know I hold it together pretty well, but really, I can't-"

"You can't? Oh, God..." Beth took several stumbling steps back, the color now leaving her face completely. "I can't believe I just... and you... Oh God."

Realising she'd said something terribly wrong, Robin moved round the counter, finally, holding a hand out. "Wait, Beth, I didn't mean that I didn't-"

"No, no, it's not your fault, I just... I knew it, and I said it anyway... oh God." Beth shook her head, her expression growing more and more horrified. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come here. I just... I don't know. I don't know what I was doing." With that, she turned and fled, nearly running out the door towards her own boat.

"Wait, Beth, I- fuck!" In her haste to follow Beth, Robin put too much weight on her bad leg and her support buckled from underneath her, sending her to the boards with a thud that could be felt across the whole deck. Unfortunately Beth had already started the engine and she seemed to miss the impact, casting off her last line and steering away from the houseboat, heading downriver.

"Beth!" Robin, long since past being too proud to ask for help, yelled out Beth's name several times before realising that if the other woman had been able to hear her above the engine she certainly wouldn't now that she was off down the river. With excruciating slowness she pulled herself up by the railing, feeling pain shoot through her leg with every motion, but she barely registered it in comparison to the hurt that was rolling up into a tight, immovable ball inside her as she heard the motor boat grow fainter and fainter until all that was left was the slight rock from the boat from the ripple it had left in its wake.

 

"Ms Davis was on crutches today."

Savannah said this in a comparatively conversational tone - she had taken Beth's news that she'd spoken to Ms Davis and she didn't want to picnic again with relatively good grace - better grace in fact than she had the news that they would be going to a different spot for said picnic than their usual little secret island. Beth was as sorry as Savannah as the familiar spot might have helped to allay her misery, but she couldn't face rowing past Robin's houseboat and she didn't want to confuse Savannah further by taking a different route for no apparent reason.

Beth looked up from her dinner preparations, eyes wide. "What? Do you know why, sweetie?"

"She fell. On her boat," Savannah said, not even looking up from her snack of buttered bread. "She told us she spent most of Saturday in hospital getting x-rays and stuff." Beth had a feeling from her tone that there had been much quizzing of Ms Davis about her leg that day, and sure enough, Savannah went on, "Did you know she trapped her leg in a glacier?"

"Um, no, I didn't..." Beth knew that her voice was getting higher and higher; luckily her daughter didn't seem to notice. "Is her leg... is she okay? It's not broken, is it?"

"No, she said it's just twisted but she might still need surgery because it has metal pins in it. No one else knew what a glacier was but I did because we read that book on the ice age."

Oh God. "That's nice, honey..." Beth stared down at the chopping board, barely seeing the vegetables waiting there. Oh God, oh God, oh God...

"Mom, did you know that they have glaciers in South America? Isn't that funny?"

"Mmhmm, very funny. Does she... do you know if she has anybody helping her, sweetie?"

Savannah did look up now. "Why, are you going to go over there? Can I come?"

"No, I just-- um. Well. Maybe..."

"Cool, are we going tonight? We could take some of the casserole? And maybe some ice cream? I bet she doesn't have room for ice cream, her freezer's so small..."

"I don't know, honey, she might not like ice cream..." Beth's mind was racing furiously. She didn't know if Robin would want to see her - didn't know if she could bear facing Robin, but with Savannah as a shield she could at least check on the other woman, make sure she was okay.

"Don't be silly, Mom, who doesn't like ice cream?"

 

"Ms Davis? Are you home?" Savannah hopped out of the truck, carrying a small cooler clasped in her arms. "We brought ice cream!"

Robin gave a start as she heard the familiar voice and for a moment she thought she must be imagining things. She started to get up off the couch, but then thought better of it, instead just calling out.

"I'm at home. Come on in."

She listened as her visitors climbed aboard and two pairs of shoes moved across the outer deck - the small pair nearly running at full speed, the larger pair slower, almost reluctant. A moment later Savannah entered the cabin, beaming at her teacher. "Hi Ms Davis! I told my mom about your leg and she said we should bring you something to eat so we did. You haven't had dinner yet, have you?" she added, looking concerned.

"Uh, no, not yet," Robin said. In truth she hadn't been planning on having a proper meal, just snacking as she was wont to do when she had little energy or inclination to eat. "Um. You didn't have to do that," she said, looking in Beth's direction as the other woman finally entered.

"I always make too much," she replied with a wan smile. Robin didn't look as bad as she had expected but then, she was sitting down, and well-used to this sort of pain by now, Beth was sure. Still, it was a relief just to see her, even as it hurt.

"Well. Thanks." Robin moved to get up from the sofa, but Savannah trotted over with a resolute shake of her head, holding her hands out.

"No, you have to stay sat down Ms Davis. We'll do everything." She sounded quite proud of this idea and Robin got the distinct impression that it was one of her own conception.

 

Indeed, as the two moved about the small cabin, unwrapping the casserole dish and preparing a plate for Robin, it seemed almost everything was powered by Savannah. The little girl chattered away, seemingly unaware of the awkward silence that she was filling between the two women.

When the food was ready the three sat down to eat in silence, Beth and Savannah apparently having stalled their own dinner for her benefit, a fact that made her feel both guilty and also a little hopeful - Beth didn't hate her now, then, at least. Savannah, apparently having been raised to be respectfully quiet at the dinner, couldn't help but stare back and forth between the two women, which only made the apparent lack of conversation even more difficult to ignore.

The casserole was genuinely excellent, and indeed the only time Robin spoke during the meal was to compliment Beth on it, though the way the other woman looked up at her, eyes wide, it was more like she'd suddenly shouted at her or similarly shocked her.

After dinner, it was of course time for ice cream, and Savannah helpfully announced that she would serve it, leaving Beth and Robin at the galley table while she rocketed off to the fridge to get the dessert. After a minute's silence, Beth finally spoke.

"I'm sorry to hear about your leg," she murmured. "Savannah said you might have to have surgery on it?"

"Maybe," the older woman said with a slight shrug. "I've got a strut and some pins in there that might've been knocked out of place. I need more x-rays before they can be sure."

"Oh. That sounds... painful."

"Could be."

"I'm sorry. I hope you... I hope it's not that bad, in the end."

Robin nodded. "Thanks. Listen, Beth, about the other day..."

"Mom, do you want chocolate syrup?" Savannah called.

Beth jumped. "Um, no thanks, honey." She bit her lip, looking back over at Robin anxiously. The other woman opened her mouth to begin again, but once more she was interrupted, this time not by Savannah but by a sudden flash of light that filled the houseboat.

All three of them counted automatically, Savannah out loud.

"One, two, three, four-"

A low, ominous rumble spread over the river, and with it the first few drops of rain, pattering across the top of the boat. Savannah glanced somewhat nervously at her mother, carrying two full bowls of ice cream across to the table.

"Do you want to go home, honey?" Beth asked quietly, raising her eyebrows.

The seven-year-old looked utterly torn, casting a mournful glance down at the uneaten ice cream, and a worried one out of the window. "Don't know," she said in a very small voice.

"We can have something else at home - one of Aunt Jenny's cookies, maybe?" her mother suggested, obviously keen to let the girl have a way out. "Would you like that?"

Robin sat up a little straighter as another flash filled the cabin, and she began to push to her feet. "Got to batten down the hatches," she said, in a tone that said she was aware of the irony of using the old saying in a literal sense.

"No, don't move, I can do that..." Suddenly caught between a frightened child and an injured friend, Beth hesitated, then smiled. "'Vannah, why don't you and Ms Davis have your ice cream while I take care of things, and then we can go home, okay? It'll just be a few minutes."

Obviously about to protest, Robin seemed to stop and think long enough to realise that trying to quickly batten down a houseboat on crutches was a ridiculous idea, and instead she relaxed back onto her seat, patting the couch next to here. "C'mere, you, she directed at Savannah. "Let's eat that ice cream before it melts, mm?"

Soothed by the idea of being close to her teacher - a grown-up almost as capable as her mother at protecting people from thunderstorms - Savannah joined Robin on the couch, scooting close and reaching for a spoon. Robin could feel her flinch as another flash of lightning illuminated the cabin, and Beth hurried off to secure the doors and windows before the rain began in earnest.

"So... was it your idea to come out tonight, then, Savannah?" Robin asked now. In honesty she just wanted to keep the girl mentally occupied but found that this was the first question that came into her mind.

"Kind of, but mom thought it was a good idea too," the girl said after a large bite of ice cream. "The ice cream was my idea though."

"Ah, well, the ice cream is clearly the most important part. Not that your mom's casserole wasn't wonderful..."

"Yeah, she's a pretty good cook," Savannah agreed. Then, "Do you want us to bring you dinner tomorrow too?"

"Oh, that's sweet, but I don't think you're going to be able to spend all your evenings bringing me dinner, sugar," Robin said, reaching to place a comforting hand on Savannah's back as another roll of thunder reached their ears, just a few beats behind the lightning.

"But isn't it hard for you to make dinner when you have crutches?" Savannah wanted to know after the thunder had passed, though she seemed to have forgotten about her ice cream now in favor of limpeting to Robin's side. Robin abandoned her own bowl, sitting back to let the girl rest against her more easily.

"It's not so bad," she said. "I make a lot of simple things. Sometimes it's good to have a really small kitchen."

"But what about doing your laundry? And fixing your boat? Won't that be hard too?"

"Sure, all those things will be hard, but I'll get by, or if I need to I'll hire someone to help me for a bit."

"But you should just let my mom do it! She likes helping people!" Savannah exclaimed. "She helps Aunt Jenny all the time, and when Mrs Harrison hurt her leg she helped her..."

"You don't think she's a little busy right now?" Robin asked, her tone amused.

The girl looked up at her, confused. Obviously Beth being busy was a normal state of affairs. "But she doesn't mind helping people she likes. And she likes you."

Robin's smile grew a little sad at this, but she didn't say anything, only slipping her arm properly around Savannah and giving her a little squeeze as more thunder rolled over their heads. The rain was battering down properly now, but Beth was still fighting her way round the boat - they could see her out of the last windows remaining uncovered, already soaked through as she pulled the last of the hatches shut.

Eventually she re-entered the cabin, though she stood just inside the door, obviously wary of dripping on the rugs or floorboards in the cabin. "You done with your ice cream, honey?" she called across to her daughter. "We need to get going soon if we're going home."

Robin hesitated. "Look, why don't you stay here, let it pass? It came on suddenly so it's obviously moving fast. The boat's properly grounded, and down in the stern you barely feel any shift. Plus you're soaked," she added.

"All the more reason for me to get on home," Beth prevaricated. She considered Savannah, curled against Robin's side, and bit her lip, torn. "Sweetie, do you want to stay here, or go home? We can play music in the truck if you want."

"Don't mind," Savannah murmured, slipping an arm around her new security-person, sounding almost content.

Beth considered the near-constant duet of thunder and lightning outside; it was quite likely that the worst of the storm would pass soon, as Robin had said, and Savannah seemed to be managing well enough at Robin's side. With a sigh Beth made her way, shoes squelching, to a galley stool and took a seat, hoping she wouldn't drip too much in the meantime.

"Hey, no, no dripping on my lack of carpet," Robin said to a giggle from Savannah. "Closet's down the hall, help yourself."

Robin's closet was well-stocked with clean towels and linens; gingerly Beth selected a towel and gave herself a cursory drying-off. She wasn't that bothered about being damp, as rangers routinely found themselves doused in riverwater, mud, and rain, but she felt even more out-of-place in the midst of all the clean, minimalist furnishing than usual. Spotting that there was another door right next to the linen cupboard, she realised with a quick glance that this was where Robin kept her clothes as well - had she intended for Beth to simply dry off, or change into dry clothing?

 

A few minutes later she re-emerged, wearing yet another of Robin's t-shirts and a pair of yoga pants which, while too long, were stretchy enough to fit her generous curves. The storm lingered overhead and she had apparently decided that the possible faux pas was preferable to sitting around and waiting in damp clothing. She came back into the main cabin to find Robin sitting where she'd left her, Savannah now lying curled up on the couch with her head in her teacher's lap, apparently asleep, or very near to it.

Robin looked up as she entered, shooting Beth a tiny smile, apparently unsurprised by her change of outfit.

She felt a stab of something - pain? Longing?- deep in her gut, and wished for a moment they hadn't come, but then she saw Robin's smile and immediately knew it was worth it even so.

"I've stolen more of your clothes," she murmured, approaching the sofa and taking a seat on the other side of Savannah. "I hope that's okay."

"'Course," Robin said quietly, though she didn't offer any further conversation.

Beth reached over, resting a hand on Savannah's ankle. The girl stirred but didn't wake, depsite the rumble of thunder overhead.

"Clearly worn out by all the excitement," the teacher said then, smiling down at her and lifting a hand to smooth her hair a little.

"Mm. It's been a long day," Beth agreed, nodding.

"If..." Robin hesitated. "It's quieter in the stern berth. If you think she's out for the count."

"Um..." Beth hesitated, but she realized that it might be painful for Robin to have to sit in that exact position until the storm abated. "Okay. Thanks." Standing, she scooped Savannah up, passing towards the stern as carefully as she could.

The berth at the back of the boat was obviously where Robin herself slept, though it was as clean and neatly made as the one where Beth had spent the night a couple of weeks previously. Beth heard a slight noise behind her as she got Savannah settled, turning to see that Robin had followed her - largely unnoticed it seemed due to the storm raging outside. She was using a single crutch, her other hand braced against the wall. She looked ahead of Beth to Savannah, and then back at the ranger. "Still asleep?" she mouthed, eyebrows raised in question.

"Mmhmm," Beth whispered; luckily Savannah had always been a sound sleeper. "She'll be out until morning, probably."

"Right. Thanks for coming out tonight - I don't know how I'd've got the hatches down without you here. I'm sorry you ended up stuck..."

"That's okay. It'll be over soon," Beth said, despite the fact that the storm showed no signs of passing quickly. "I'm still... We're always happy to help."

"I'm surprised you want to be anywhere near me after Friday."

Beth's face crumpled and she glanced at her sleeping daughter before looking back at Robin. "I'm still your friend, Robin. At least, I'd like to be."

Robin nodded, opening her mouth to speak, though she hesitated twice before she managed to get any words out. "The truth is," she said eventually, then stopped, clearly steeling herself. "The truth," she tried again, "is that I'm a coward."

Beth blinked, not comprehending. "That's not true - Savannah's told me some of the thing you've done-"

"It's not the same," Robin cut in, shaking her head. "The guts to climb a mountain or leap out of a plane, they don't give you the courage to- Beth, I didn't turn you down because I don't care about you, I- Oh, hell..."

With this, Robin apparently decided that she was done trying to explain in words, because she took a step forward, then, still bracing herself against the wall as she lifted her other hand, letting the crutch fall away from her, reaching for Beth and leaning in to kiss her in one motion.

The younger woman opened her eyes wide in shock as Robin's lips met her own. One hand clenched at the taller woman's shirt, first to push her away and then, a second later, to pull her closer. Robin's mouth opened against hers, hand gathering up her still-damp hair at the nape of her neck as she deepened their kiss. Beth sighed, closing her eyes and pressing her body close to Robin's. Relief mingled with confusion and desire until she found it hard to know what was going on - all sure was sure of was that she didn't want it to end.

Eventually, though, it had to, as Robin was beginning to overbalance, more of her weight on Beth than on her own feet and her hand slipping a little where it was pressed against the wall. She swayed back, her free hand resting on Beth's shoulder, cheeks flushed, eyes dark, lips parted.

Beth let out a gust of a sigh, her entire body giving a frisson that Robin could feel echoed in her own. "Robin..."

"I can't be your friend," Robin cut in, finding her breath at last. "I'm sorry, but I can't. I can't watch people in this town making up stories about the two of us. Not when they aren't true. It would hurt... too much. And the idea of being with you... I'll be honest, it terrifies me. But if you really want this, if you're prepared for all the crap it's going to put us through, I can't betray you by chickening out. If you really want me - if you're sure," Robin said, and her grip on Beth's shoulder was almost painful, "then you have me."

"I do want you," Beth murmured, her hand finding a more solid position on Robin's waist. "I have no idea what I'm doing and I don't know... what this means for me or you, but I know I need this. I need you."

Robin smiled a little, tipping her head to touch her lips to Beth's again - just briefly, before pulling back and nodding to the berth in front of her with the little girl curled up asleep, right in the middle. "Shall we get some rest?"

 

"But Mom, I want to see Ms Davis too!" Savannah planted herself near the door, holding her teddy and looking imploringly up at her mother. "Please please can I?"

Beth chuckled, shaking her head as she checked her makeup in the hall mirror. "Sorry, honey, not this time. But you can have dessert once we get to Ms Harrison's, and watch a movie if you want. That will be fun."

"She only lives in an ordinary house," Savannah said with conviction. "She's boring."

Beth laughed again, looking down at the girl with amusement. "Well, Ms Davis is coming over here, so we will be in a boring normal house too."

Savannah seemed somewhat pacified by the idea that her mother wasn't going to go an enjoy the wonders of Robin's houseboat without her, and she let her mother drive her over to the sitter's without further complaint.

After dropping off her daughter, Robin turned her truck towards the river, grinning as she made her way to the houseboat. It was several days after the thunderstorm and though she and Robin had spoken every evening on the phone, this was the first time they would be seeing each other since.

The night was warm, and Robin was waiting outside as Beth approached, leaning casually on her crutches (so far as such a thing was possible) on the decking of her little mooring.

"Hey," Beth greeted her, sliding out of the truck and smoothing her hands over her dress before approaching. "How are you doing?"

Robin nodded, standing a little straight. "I'm good. You?" She moved forward a little toward Beth but seemed slightly unsure as to how to greet her.

"Fine, fine..." Beth leaned in, her hands finding Robin's forearms and clasping them as she brushed a kiss over her cheek. "You look wonderful."

"I look the same as always only on crutches," Robin said, though she was smiling, and she tipped her head forward as Beth leant in to prolong the proximity.

"Well then I guess you must always look wonderful," Beth chuckled.

"You too," Robin said as they pulled apart. "Although I think I like you best in your ranger uniform all covered in mud and sawgrass scratches," she added with a shy smile.

The other woman glanced down at herself, blushing. "Oh. Well, it would have been a bit strange for me to wear that tonight..."

Robin chuckled. "Pity. Shall we get going?"

"Sure thing. I hope you're hungry... I might have cooked a bit too much."

"I'm sure I'll manage."

Beth hadn't been kidding - in her eagerness for that evening she had spent most of the day preparing far too many dishes for just two people to eat. Her small house was immaculately tidy, and after they had eaten she gave Robin 'the tour'.

Though Savannah might have declared it boring, Robin seemed to be delighted by the little house, wanting to know the origin of every painting or trinket or interesting piece of furniture. Though she protested that nothing she owned could possibly be as interesting or exotic as the things Robin had collected, Beth obliged, and soon the two women were sitting on the sofa poring over a photo album featuring pictures of a young Savannah, as well as snapshots Beth had taken of the Everglades over the course of her week.

"See, you said you weren't artistic, but it seems like you have a pretty good eye," Robin said, reaching across Beth's lap to smooth down a corner on one of the photo mounts.

"I really don't think there's any comparison between these and actual art," Beth said, blushing. Her eyes followed Robin's hand, and before the other woman had a chance to withdraw it she reached over, wearing their fingers tentatively.

Robin squeezed her hand in return, turning her head to look at Beth, and took a deep breath before speaking again, her tone carefully level. "About Monday night. And our phone calls. You know that if you need to, you can still-"

"If you keep giving me outs I'm going to start thinking you want me to take them," Beth said, grinning, though she couldn't quite hide her nerves.

"No - God no," Robin said quickly. "I just... I guess I'm just finding it a little hard to believe this is actually happening."

"I know, but... I mean... It hasn't really, yet," Beth immediately blushed and shook her head. "I didn't mean it like that, I just..."

"Oh, that's okay," Robin said quickly. "I don't mind if you don't want t-"

"No! God, don't- oh hell." Beth turned to face Robin, placing a hand against her cheek. "Neither of us is very good at this, are we?" she asked, chuckling.

"Oh, I don't know," Robin murmured. "I seem to remember you were quite good, as far as it went..." She smiled sheepishly at the weak joke.

The other woman blushed and then leaned for impetuously to kiss Robin, her lips warm, her touch light, and Robin leaned closer with a sigh, letting her eyes fall closed as she returned the gesture, just as gently, enjoying the sensation of that simple, chaste contact.

Beth smiled against her lips, her hand squeezing Robin's seemingly of its own accord while the other stroked her cheek. She couldn't quite believe the sensations - Robin was so intoxicating, her lips so soft, her skin so smooth. Robin wasn't anything as aggressive as she had been that night back on the boat - she didn't press any closer, didn't force Beth's mouth open against hers, and yet when they parted and her eyes opened again they were dark with a look that Beth recognised instantly, one that sent a tingle straight through her.

She shifted slightly in her seat, suddenly all nerves once again. "Do you want some iced tea? Or water?" she offered.

"I, uh..." The thought clearly hadn't occurred to Robin, but she nodded nonethelessl. "Sure," she said. "That'd be nice."

"Great!" Beth bounced to her feet, scurrying into the kitchen to retrieve a pitcher and two glasses. She paused while she was in there to press the pitcher to her forehead, willing her heart to stop racing and her cheeks to stop burning. The kiss had been enough, but that look - that look had nearly undone her.

Robin, unsurprisingly, hadn't moved from the couch when Beth returned, but she had moved the album off to one of the little tables either side of the couch.

"Here we go," Beth chirped, handing over one of the glasses and settling the pitcher on the other table before she took a seat, this time at a respectable distance from the other woman. "Um, I hope it's okay."

Robin took a sip of the water, though she leaned over and placed it down on the table, then. "I can go home, if that would be better," she said carefully. "There's no hurry."

"No!" Beth almost yelped, looking alarmed. "No, please don't. I want you to stay."

"All... right."

"Do you want to... do something? Play cards? Watch... TV?"

"We could do any of those things," Robin said with a smile, though it seemed just a shade hesitant.

"Do you have any preferences?" Beth shifted, reaching up to play nervously with her hair.

"I, uh..." Robin sighed. "You know me," she said eventually. "I'm not really one for TV."

"Well, um... you could teach me 'Danish'?"

"I guess I could at that."

 

Half an hour later, Beth was well-versed in the rules of Danish, having played several games of it with Robin coaching her through the first few. She found it mildly entertaining, though her behavior was quite distracted, and she eventually gathered up the cards, smiling at the other woman. "So. Um. What now?"

"Now... Now you can teach me a cardgame. Or..."

Beth raised her eyebrows, pulling a thumb across the corner of the cards.

"Well," Robin said, shifting a little closer, "Sugar, I'm okay with going home, honestly."

"No, no, don't, I could... do you know Go Fish?" Beth asked desperately.

"A little too well, at the moment..." Robin said, tipping her head to one side. "If you need some time we can take it, but..." She shook her head. "If I'm honest I'm finding it pretty hard to think about card games right now."

Beth swallowed, dropping a few cards to the floor in her nervousness. "Robin, I... God, we're going to have to do the talking thing again, aren't we?"

"If you want to. We don't have to," Robin said, smiling gently and leaning to rest a hand on her knee. "You can take as much time as you need."

The other woman gave a half-hearted smile, though her hand sought out Robin's, clasping it tightly. "I just... I move slow, Robin. And I don't want you to think that means I'm not... ready for this. I am. But I need to move slowly, I need you to be patient, because... because this is important."

Nodding carefully, Robin spoke - in a tone that to Beth sounded slightly like the sort of tone she imagined the older woman taking with her class of seven year olds although somehow this managed not to offend her. "I can be patient - Beth, I've wanted you since the moment you walked into my classroom and I never thought we'd ever be anything other than friends. So I can do slow. But this isn't slow. This is... cards. We did more meaningful things than this when we were friends."

This certainly didn't keep the other woman from blushing, though she nodded her agreement all the same. "I know. What I don't know is what to do next. It's been a long time since I've done... this."

Tipping her head to one side, leaning in a bit further, Robin gave Beth's hand a squeeze. "There aren't any rules."

"Yeah, but that makes it harder, y'know? At least if there were rules we could just... follow them."

"I've never really been one for doing that."

"What do you... normally do?"

Robin smirked a little. "In all fairness I normally don't. I'm more of a ships in the night kinda gal."

"You mean you... oh." Beth blinked, furrowing her brows slightly.

"Hey, it's not that I've never had a relationship," Robin said quickly. "I mean, I'm not opposed to the idea. Just, with the life I had, out in the middle of nowhere for months on end, it wasn't really conducive to anything long term. Or, y'know. Mid-term. I'm just saying this is new to me too."

"Are you sure... it's what you want?" Beth asked then, still looking uncertain at this revelation. "Because if you aren't I'm not sure if I-"

"I'm sure," Robin cut in. Her expression was strange, now, as though there was something she desperately wanted to say that she couldn't quite articulate. "I'm sure," she repeated in lieu of whatever this unsaid thing was.

Beth's expression finally softened, and she gave Robin's hand a squeeze. "Okay. I guess we'll both have to make it up as we go along."

Nodding, Robin sat back a little, though she didn't pull her hand away. "I guess so," she agreed.

Wetting her lips, Beth looked down at their hands, then back up at Robin. "It's still early... would you like me to put on some music?"

"If you like."

"Yes, but what would you like, Robin?"

"I'd like..." Robin hesitated. "I think I'd like to get going, actually," she said, pulling back a little.

"Oh. Right." Beth let go of the other woman's hand now, looking confused. "Okay. I'll... get my keys."

 

Robin was largely silent on the drive back to the houseboat, mind obviously occupied. Beth, by now more confused than ever and too afraid to ask, remained silent as well, concentrating on the road ahead. When they arrived, Robin turned to smile at Beth. "I had a really lovely night."

"That's... good." Beth gave a wan smile, clasping the steering wheel with both hands. "I'm glad."

"We should do this again - soon," the other woman went on, her tone entirely sincere.

"Mmhmm. Of course."

"When will you next be free, do you think?"

"I... I'm not sure."

"I mean, not that we couldn't spend some time together with Savannah, of course," Robin went on, turning carefully to look at Beth, though she couldn't shift much due to her leg.

The other woman smiled again and gave a small nod. "If you want."

Robin reached out to cover Beth's hand with her own, then. "It really has been nice," she said.

"Mm. Good. I mean, it has."

The other woman's expression flickered a little, and she sat back. "I... guess I'd better head in," she said quietly, sounding a little defeated.

"Do you need any help?"

"I think I'll... yes, that would be great, thanks."

Unwrapping her hands from the wheel, Beth opened her door and quickly made her way around to the passenger's side, where Robin waited. "Here..." she said, offering the other woman her hand, and Robin took it, leaning her weight on Beth as she stepped down from the pick-up, her other hand coming to rest on her shoulder as she reached the ground.

"Thanks," she said, not moving away.

"Mmhmm," Beth said quietly, nodding.

"Beth, I'm..." Robin shifted forward a little, leaned closer.

The other woman's eyes flicked up, her hand tightening momentarily on Robin's. She said nothing.

"Can I... kiss you?"

Beth swallowed heavily, then nodded. "Yes."

Robin didn't need to hear this twice, and leaned in to close the remaining gap between them, pressing her lips firmly to Beth's. She felt the other woman give a small gasp, then quickly press closer, one hand going to Robin's waist to steady her as the kiss continued. Crutches occupying her hands Robin was unable to return the embrace, all her attention focussed on their lips, eyes closed, breathing audible in the quiet night air.

Eventually Beth pulled back, her heart pounding. The night was quiet but she could hear the blood rushing in her ears. Robin opened her eyes, then, to look down at Beth. "Well," she murmured huskily. "Good night."

"Good... night." Still a bit dazed, Beth watched as Robin gathered herself together and then set out for the houseboat, still graceful and composed despite the crutches. Raising one hand to her still-tingling lips she waited a moment longer and then departed herself, her thoughts whirling.

 

Beth had thought that even in Bridgeford, it would take longer. That the rumour mill however productive wouldn't catch on so quickly. She found herself mentally tracing its steps - Savannah in innocence said something to Adele Harrison, Adele in turn no doubt said something to her sister May, May to her friend Susan... in any event, one look at Jenny's face as she arrived at her house on [a couple of days later] and she knew that Jenny Knew.

Steeling herself against the disapproving look that was already being leveled at her, Beth dropped her armful of groceries on the kitchen table. "They didn't have any cutlets so I got a joint instead. I hope that's okay."

"You'll ruin this family. I hope you know that."

"It's just a pork joint, Jenny," she replied, trying to inject a lightness she didn't quite feel.

"This isn't funny!"

"No, it's my personal life. And none of your business, believe it or not."

Jenny was unswayed by this. "You have absolutely no idea what you're doing, do you? I suppose you've let her convince you all sorts of things."

"The only thing she's tried to convince me of is the fact that people in this town won't be able to keep their noses out of our business, and apparently she's right."

"Of course she's right! We care about our own here. She knows that better than most," Jenny added in an ominous tone.

"Listen, Jenny, will you just drop it, please?" Beth asked, exasperated. "I don't care what happened in high school, and I don't care about my soul being damned to Hell, and I don't care if you disapprove. Okay?"

This seemed to answer a question for Jenny, for her demeanor changed a little, then. "So you are... involved with her?"

It hadn't occured to Beth that Jenny wouldn't just assume the worst; she turned to her ssister then, frowning. "I don't know. Yes. I think so."

"Jesus..."

"And look! The world hasn't stopped! How about that." Angrily, Beth turned back to the groceries, yanking a few cans out of the bag and banging them down onto the table.

"Yet. Wait until people begin to realise what's going on - you realise she could lose her job? It's highly inappropriate, for her as a teacher to-"

"Don't you dare pretend you care about her!" Beth interjected disbelievingly. "Don't pretend like you wouldn't be thrilled if she just packed up and left tomorrow."

"Of course I would!" Jenny exclaimed. Then, more quietly, she said it again. "Of course I would. You don't know, Beth. What she put me through in High School. You don't understand what she does."

"Then why don't you tell me? What did she do that was so horrible?" the younger woman demanded. "What could possibly make you hate her this much?"

Jenny frowned. "She destroyed my best friend," she said. When Beth looked expectantly at her, she continued. "Do you remember Lesley Mason? She was on the squad with me. We were inseparable in High School?"

"Um, yeah, sure... I remember," Beth said, nodding.

"Well, I guess you were younger and never really heard about this, but when we were in Junior year she and Robin got to be friends - Robin was a solitary type but she was coaching her in something - can't remember what - and soon they were spending more and more time together. Lesley was so nice you know - never knew when someone was taking her for a ride."

Beth raised her eyebrows; she had some idea where this story was going and wasn't sure she wanted to hear the end of it, but clearly Jenny was going to have her say like it or not.

"Well, anyways," Jenny went on, "Lesley's spending more and more time with Robin, and Robin's getting jealous - like, possessive - when we tried to get Lesley to come out with us Robin's always trying to keep her away from us. Eventually I corner Lesley about it, and she admits Robin's told her she's in love with her, that she's... well, you'd know better than me about that I guess."

"Yeah, but Jenny, that happens all the time in high school - kids are full of hormones, they do stupid things... you never had a boy act that way over you?"

"That's not the same!"

"Yes, it is, it's exactly the same! Just because Lesley didn't feel the same way doesn't mean Robin did something wrong."

"Well, in any event, when her mother found out she hit the roof. Lesley was moved to a different school for the rest of high school, and it basically ruined everything."

"Because they were too small-minded to deal with it," Beth muttered, picking up a handful of vegetables and carrying them to the fridge. "Why don't you blame her parents if you need someone to blame?"

"Her parents weren't the ones who were so selfish and thoughtless that they didn't think about what it would do to her, dragging her into something like that."

"'Dragging her into something'? Seriously, Jenny? Because teenagers should be held responsible for getting crushes on people? Please! I remember you falling over a different guy every month - were you being selfish? Thoughtless?"

"It's not the same!" Jenny said, slamming her hand down on the table. "Can't you see that?"

"Obviously not!" Beth shouted back, squaring off against her sister on the other side of the table. "The only reason it's not the same is because you say it's not, and you don't even have any good reason for it! So why the hell should I believe you?"

"Because Lesley was devastated! Because it ruined-..." Jenny broke off, sitting back down at the table, looking somewhat deflated. "Fine. Go to Robin. Do what you want. God knows you always have."

The room suddenly grew very still and silent. Beth, clutching a carton of cereal, stared at her sister across the table. "If you're implying that I left Dan - or that I'm seeing Robin - just because of a whim, Jenny, so help me God...."

Her sister shrugged. "I didn't say that," she said.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know, Beth. I don't really understand your life choices so I really wouldn't know how you justify them," Jenny said matter of factly, spreading her hands out before her in a gesture of defeat.

"How I justify them? Jenny, I was justified leaving Dan because I didn't want Savannah to be raised by an abusive asshole!" Beth fumed, the carton threatening to crumple in her hands. "However horrible her life is being raised by a single mom it would've been worse if we had stayed with him. For me, too."

Jenny, as usual, doggedly ignored Beth's complaints about Dan. "And Robin Davis?"

"She makes me happy." Beth wanted to scream it, but instead it came out at an intense near-whisper as tears threatened to run down her cheeks. "God, Jenny, is it so selfish to want to be happy once in a while?"

To this, Jenny at first had no answer. Eventually, she sighed, pressing her hands to the table and pushing to her feet. "Fine," she said. "You think about your happiness. Leave Savannah's - hell, leave everyone else's to me."

Something about this statement sent an icy stab right through Beth's stomach. Through a blur of tears she gathered together her things, leaving the groceries half-sorted on the kitchen table and heading for the door. She had known, of course, that this wouldn't be easy, but she was only just beginning to realize exactly how hard it was going to be.

 

"Are you... okay? You've been really quiet tonight."

"I, um... yeah." Savannah had run off to get her pajamas on, eagerly planning what story Beth and Robin would read to her before bed. Her mother sat on the sofa, staring off into space distractedly, though when Robin spoke she looked up, giving a nod and an unconvincing smile. "Of course."

Robin's mouth flattened to a line, her brow furrowing in concern. "D'you want to talk? Once Savannah's down?"

"I really don't think you want to hear about it," the younger woman replied. "It's just... Jenny being Jenny."

"I don't care what it is - if you're feeling bad and talking would help, I'm here, okay?"

At this Beth's smile turned slightly more genuine. "Okay."

 

Bedtime.com of course, was a much more protracted affair than usual. With both her favorite people there Savannah began to ask for more and more indulgences, and Beth at least seemed happy to grant them, if only to delay the time when she might have to share with Robin what had been said about her.

Eventually, though, even Savannah grew tired, and soon the two women were back on the couch.

"So..." Robin said, reaching almost casually for Beth's hand. "Talk to me."

Beth let out a breath as Robin's hand touched hers, one she hadn't realized she was holding. "It's just... Jenny. We had an argument. She's... not happy. About us."

Robin raised her eyebrows. "You told her?"

"No. Well. Not exactly. She mostly knew."

"I see... Well," Robin said, giving her hand a squeeze. "What did she say?"

"Oh, you know, the usual... I'm going to ruin the family with my selfishness, that I can't be trusted to make decisions for myself." Beth tried to keep her tone light, though she couldn't quite hide the trembling of her voice.

"Oh, sugar... I'm sorry."

"It's fine, it's fine... I shouldn't be surprised. It's not as if she's ever pretended to be very tolerant of anything she doesn't approve of before."

"I guess she's a bit... yeah, she doesn't like me much."

"I know." Beth hesitated, then went on haltingly. "She... Told me about what happened in high school. With Lesley."

Robin's eyebrows raised slightly, briefly, before her face relaxed again. "Jenny doesn't know what happened with Lesley," she said blandly.

"Well, I'm not surprised. But it still means that she thinks she has a good reason not to like you."

"I suspect there's not a lot I can do about that. I'm sorry..."

"It's okay," Beth sighed. Then, "Robin?"

Robin's eyes flickered up from their entwined hands to meet Beth's gaze. "Mm?"

"What did happen with Lesley? I mean, I remember she left school, but..."

The older woman smiled a little, expression growing almost nostalgic. "We were together," she said simply. "I wasn't obsessed, I wasn't stalking her or making things up in my head. We were everything that anyone else had with their first love. Except that it was a secret, because Lesley was scared and I had fallen so hard that I agreed."

"And then people found out, and she had to leave," Beth murmured. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry..."

Robin let out a short, bitter laugh. "Oh God, if only it had been that simple. No. Jenny found some letters and postcards I'd written, and confronted her with them. Lesley bottled it and denied everything. I was decried as an obsessive fantasist stalker freak, my parents were hauled over the coals by the whole town, and I only escaped expulsion by agreeing to therapy for my 'emotional problems'."

"Oh God... Jenny did that?"

"In fairness to her, I think she truly believes that it was all in my head."

"That's no excuse for doing what she did! God, she can be such a bully sometimes... I'm surprised you even bothered to talk to me, much less..."

"Hey, you're not your sister. And I didn't know that..." Robin trailed off. She had known from the moment she met Beth exactly what she thought about her.

Beth waited for Robin to finish her sentence but when nothing was forthcoming she smiled gamely and squeezed her hand. "I can't promise she's not going to try and make things hard for us this time. But I won't let her drive me away."

"Hey, at least you were honest with her. Lesley never was, and we were-... well. Things were a little more serious between us by that point."

"It's hard, when you're a kid. That's why..." Beth hesitated, then shook her head. "Nevermind."

"I know. I never hated her for it. I mean, I was angry, but... that's why what?" Robin asked, casting her eyes back up to Beth's.

"I've just been thinking... About this town, and the people in it. I came back here because my family is here and I didn't have anywhere else to go, but... I don't know if I want Savannah to grow up here, surrounded by all that ignorance," Beth said, frowning.

"You're thinking of moving away? Back to Miami, or..."

"Not Miami," Beth said quickly. "I... Don't know where yet, but not there. Maybe not in Florida at all. There are plenty of other parks out there I could transfer to."

Robin nodded slowly. "Of course," she said.

"I didn't mean to-- it's just a thought," Beth said hurriedly then. "It's not like I've made up my mind. I don't even know why I brought it up."

"No, no, it's fine. You can talk to me about anything you like."

Rubbing a thumb along Robin's palm, Beth inched closer. "I know. And that means... so much."

With a smile, Robin turned more toward Beth, leaning in a little toward her, though she didn't move in for a kiss, instead just resting her forehead against Beth's, their noses brushing.

"I've never known anyone like you, Robin," Beth murmured.

"Well, it's Florida," Robin joked gently. "There aren't many like me around."

"Honey, I was on the girl's soccer team for seven years. If you think that's what I meant you're dead wrong," the other woman corrected her with a smirk.

"That's not quite what I meant. But I take your point." Robin pulled back a little to look closely at Beth, eyes lazily searching her face, though she didn't seem to be looking for anything in particular. "So what did you mean?"

"I just meant... someone who makes me feel the way you do. Someone I want to be around so much, and when I'm not... it hurts, a little."

Robin didn't seem to have anything to say about this, though she seemed to consider Beth's words for some time, her eyes growing a little bright. Then she did lean in to kiss her lightly, hesitantly, as though she wasn't sure whether it was quite the right moment.

The other woman seemed to have no such compunctions, as she returned the kiss eagerly, her free hand sliding to Robin's knee and drawing a tiny moan from Robin's throat at the unexpected contact. Her hand escaped Beth's to move to rest at her waist, and she shifted awkwardly, trying to move closer without putting herself in an uncomfortable position.

After a moment, Beth pulled back, looking slightly concerned. "Can I... Do you want me to move?"

"I don't know, I, uh... haven't had to deal with this since my leg," Robin said with a sheepish smile. "I mean. Well, you know what I mean."

"Would it be easier if we were... lying down?" Beth asked, blushing.

Robin hesitated, her expression amused despite the sensation that ran through her at this idea. "If it wouldn't make you uncomfortable," she said eventually.

"I... don't think it would," Beth said, her pink cheeks belying her statement. "I just don't want your leg to pain you."

"I've heard that one before," Robin teased, though she shifted, now, to move her bad leg up onto the space Beth made for her on the couch, the other foot still resting on the floor.

Beth leaned forward, one hand going to to rest on the back of the sofa, the other remaining lightly on Robin's knee. "Is that better?" she murmured, eyes flicking down to the other woman's lips before catching her gaze again.

"Mm-" Robin cleared her throat as the other woman settled back down, now leaning over her. "Much," she said, her voice a little hoarse.

"Good..." Closing the inches between them, Beth hesitated for a second before kissing Robin once again, her eyes fluttering shut, and the other woman lifted her head a little, meeting her lips with a little sigh, moving her hands to rest them on Beth's hips.

Beth wasn't sure how long they stayed that way, exploring one another's lips with soft, gentle kisses, their hands stationary, their bodies close but not touching. She was sure, however, that the longer it continued the harder it was for her to fight the growing urge within her to move closer, to slide her hand further up Robin's leg, to delve her tongue between her lips, and Robin, although she made no further move, was doing nothing to help with her little moans and gasps, her hands still resting at Beth's waist.

Eventually Beth could take no more; her hand began to creep slowly up Robin's thigh, her kisses became more and more insistent. She knew that she ought to stop before things became too... involved, but that tiny voice was getting easier and easier to ignore. The other woman's hands slid to her lower back now, up her spine, and she finally tipped her head, her tongue flickering out to touch to Beth's. The ranger moaned, her fingers tightening on Robin's thigh as she returned the kiss, now nearly horizontal as she leaned over the other woman.

"Beth, please..." Robin pulled back, face flushed, eyes wide and dark, "you're... if we're going slowly..."

The other woman didn't seem to comprehend the words at first, her breath coming quickily between her parted lips. Then, eventually, she nodded, pulling back and swallowing heavily. "Sorry," she murmured huskily.

"Don't be," Robin said. "I just... believe me, I'm fine with this," She said, "but only if you are."

"I thought it would be easier," Beth replied, her expression caught halfway between desire and embarrassment. "I didn't realize... What it felt like."

This drew a low chuckle from Robin, and she pulled one of her hands back from where it rested at the hollow of Beth's back to bring it up to her face, cupping her jaw gently, thumb grazing across her cheek. "It doesn't always," she said quietly. "Or, at least, not for me. This is... God, Beth..."

Beth reached up and caught Robin's hand, placing her own palm over it and swallowing again. "I still want to go slowly. Even if it's hard. This... means a lot to me."

Robin nodded. "I should... we should probably sit up," she said lamely.

"Of course, of course." Beth sat back further, moving until Robin could swing her leg back to the floor again. Robin rearranged herself, gingerly pulling her leg back around onto the floor and shifting to sit properly on the couch again. Beth moved back again until her thigh was nearly touching Robin's, reaching over to clasp her hand tightly. "If you want to go..."

"I don't," Robin said with conviction. "But... maybe I should."

"Okay. If you think that's best."

 

 

And so Robin once again found herself back at the houseboat - this time easing herself carefully out of her own car. She felt... otherworldly, almost, surreal, as though she wasn't quite in-joint with the rest of humanity right now. Every time she blinked she could feel Beth's lips on hers, hand sliding up her thigh. It wasn't exactly an unpleasant sensation, for all that it was somewhat unexpected. As she had told Beth, though she was no stranger to physical liasions not many of them had had quite the same effect on her - nor had any of them been quite so protracted. Or frustrating. She felt sure that had she stayed that night, things would have progressed whether Beth had meant for them to or not... knowing that it was likely to get out of hand had made Robin feel guilty about continuing, and so here she was.

Though it was dark out, it wasn't late, and the restlessness she felt only made the night feel longer. With a sigh she limped to the refrigerator to retrieve a beer, and then she made her way to the couch where her journals awaited her.

As yet unable to face any more of the Aconcagua journal, she was now reading through some of her travel journals from the couple of months she'd spent travelling around America after she'd got back from Africa.

Not unsurprisingly, she had spent quite a lot of time in the National Parks - Yosemite, Yellowstone, the Tetons - and the more she read her notes about the vast stretches of wilderness and pristine views the more she could imagine Beth there. She knew the other woman held a deep and abiding love for the Everglades, but that wasn't to say she wouldn't find things to love elsewhere.

Still, if Beth decided to leave, and soon, where would that leave them? Robin couldn't leave Bridgeford, not right now. Her parents' house hadn't sold, she had a steady job that she loved, and if she was honest, she wasn't sure that she was ready to face the world again yet.

All this leaving aside the fact that they simply weren't serious enough for her to consider moving - not even close. Robin constantly had to remind herself when they were together that as far as Beth was concerned this was someting new, something that had only begun to happen, when for Robin herself it was the realisation of feelings she'd had for what felt like forever. Part of her hoped that Beth forgot the idea altogether; though they weren't that serious she certainly didn't want to end things yet. It was funny, really - Bridgeford was the last place she wanted to be stuck living for the rest of her days, but now she was the one who didn't want to go.

 

"But Mom, I don't want to go!"

Beth raised her eyebrows in surprise. "But 'Vannah, you love gymnastics. Why don't you want to go? Are you feeling sick?"

Savannah appeared to consider this idea, then she seemed to decide it wouldn't be plausible. "I'm tired," she tried.

"You got plenty of sleep, honey. Go on, get your leotard on," Beth chided. "We're gonna be late."

"Mom, please can I just stay home?" Savannah sounded a little panicked now.

Frowning, Beth looked closely at the girl, dropping her keys back onto the side table. "Okay, honey, if you really don't want to go... we can stay home."

Nodding vigorously, Savanah stepped forward and impulsively threw her arms around her mother's waist, hugging her tightly. "Hey, what's this all about, hmm?" Beth asked, rubbing Savannah's back soothingly. The girl mumbled something that might have been nothing, and then pulled back and said, all in one breath.

"Susie's having another sleepover and she said her mom told her she couldn't invite me."

"Oh, honey..." Guilt shot through Beth; this was her fault. "I'm sorry, baby. But there will be other sleepovers, don't worry."

"Why would her mom say that?"

Beth hesitated; Savannah was too young to understand the petty politics of a small town but she deserved an explanation nonetheless. "It's because she's upset with me, 'Vannah, and she's not being fair."

Savannah pulled back, frowning confusedly up at her mother. "Why would she be mad at you?"

"She... Doesn't like me being friends with Ms Davis," Beth said carefully.

"Well, she should, because you're the best little girl in the world," Beth told her then, stooping down to Savannah's height. She smiled at her and then sobered, putting her hands on the girl's shoulder. "But this isn't your fault, honey - it's not fair that it means you can't go to Susie's house. But it's nothing to do with you, okay?"

Beth's expression wavered for a moment before she forced a smile once again. "Sure, honey," she said, vowing to wrangle an invitation come hell or high water. "Come on, let's get ready to go. And then we can get ice cream on the way home."

 

"I'm so sorry, sugar. If there was anything I could do you know I would."

"No, it's fine," Beth said with a ragged sigh. "It would make it worse, you know. If you tried." She leaned sideways, resting against Robin's shoulder and playing with the cuffs of her shorts. "I don't know which is worse - that she doesn't understand why this is happening, or if she did."

"I don't think it would make sense to her if she did know," Robin said with a sigh, tightening her arm a little around Beth. "We come into this world with very little in the way of prejudice or preconceptions. What sense would it make to her that people didn't like us because we were such good friends? To a kid, before they understand body parts and what kissing is for, there's just no logic to be found there."

"I guess so. It's just... not fair. She's just a little girl! She doesn't deserve to be punlished even if what we were doing was wrong."

"I know, I know. It sucks. I can't believe it's started already. It's only been a few weeks."

"Word travels fast in a small town," Beth murmured. "I remember when I moved back here it was only a matter of days before everybody knew what had happened."

"Or a version of it, presumably."

"Mm, pretty much."

"Do you... want to tell me? About Dan, I mean. I know he was a bastard, but..."

She felt Beth stiffen, and then force herself to relax, nodding. "We... met at the end of college. He was a year older than me, and we got married as soon as I graduated. I didn't realise it at the time but he... he was abusive. Controlling. Slowly all my friends started disappearing. He was very jealous of my time and my attention."

"Abusive... d'you mean..." The question hung in the air.

"He only hit me once. The day I left. I wasn't going to let my daughter grow up around that," Beth said quietly.

This time it was Robin's turn to wince, and she shifted and gathered the other woman properly into her arms, tipping her chin to kiss the top of her head. "I will never ever hurt you," she said quietly - determinedly, more a personal mission statement than a promise. Beth said nothing, merely snuggling closer and closing her eyes. She still felt a deep ache at the way Savannah was suffering because of her choices, but wrapped in Robin's arms she couldn't quite face the only solution - ending the budding relationship.

"God, I could stay here all night," Robin murmured. "But I think it's getting on for time for you to get back."

"You're right... but I don't want to leave. It's getting hard to find a babysitter for Savannah - now that Jenny refuses to help I don't know the next time I'm going to be able to get away."

Robin shifted to tip her head and catch Beth's lips briefly with hers. "We'll work it out," she said. "Besides, Savannah's pretty early to bed. It's not as though we don't have time together with her around."

"I know, it's just..." Beth trailed off, then gave an embarrassed smile. "I guess it's just as well, really."

"Well," Robin said, guessing (or at least hoping) what she was thinking, "there's always Tuesdays and Thursdays after school. And Saturday club, once in a while."

"You're right." Beth leaned in to kiss Robin lightly, though she pulled back before it could turn into anything more. "Well. I guess I'll see you then."

"Take care, sugar," Robin said, pushing to her feet and reaching for her stick - she was off crutches now and had been lucky enough to avoid needing surgery, but she was still a little less fit than she had been before her fall. She put out a hand to help Beth to her feet, though more as a chivalrous gesture than a practical concern. The other woman took it lightly, standing without actually needing support, and the two shared a moment merely standing close to one another, hands clasped, eyes locked.

"Beth," Robin said, hesitating. "I want you to know, if this every becomes too hard for you and Savannah..."

The other woman gave a short laugh, though there was little humor in it. "Are you trying to suggest I give up the good just to be left with the bad? That doesn't sound very appealing..."

"I dunno. I was just... I'd do anything for you," Robin said seriously. "You know that, right?"

"I'm so sorry, sugar. If there was anything I could do you know I would."

"No, it's fine," Beth said with a ragged sigh. "It would make it worse, you know. If you tried." She leaned sideways, resting against Robin's shoulder and playing with the cuffs of her shorts. "I don't know which is worse - that she doesn't understand why this is happening, or if she did."

"I don't think it would make sense to her if she did know," Robin said with a sigh, tightening her arm a little around Beth. "We come into this world with very little in the way of prejudice or preconceptions. What sense would it make to her that people didn't like us because we were such good friends? To a kid, before they understand body parts and what kissing is for, there's just no logic to be found there."

"I guess so. It's just... not fair. She's just a little girl! She doesn't deserve to be punlished even if what we were doing was wrong."

"I know, I know. It sucks. I can't believe it's started already. It's only been a few weeks."

"Word travels fast in a small town," Beth murmured. "I remember when I moved back here it was only a matter of days before everybody knew what had happened."

"Or a version of it, presumably."

"Mm, pretty much."

"Do you... want to tell me? About Dan, I mean. I know he was a bastard, but..."

She felt Beth stiffen, and then force herself to relax, nodding. "We... met at the end of college. He was a year older than me, and we got married as soon as I graduated. I didn't realise it at the time but he... he was abusive. Controlling. Slowly all my friends started disappearing. He was very jealous of my time and my attention."

"Abusive... d'you mean..." The question hung in the air.

"He only hit me once. The day I left. I wasn't going to let my daughter grow up around that," Beth said quietly.

This time it was Robin's turn to wince, and she shifted and gathered the other woman properly into her arms, tipping her chin to kiss the top of her head. "I will never ever hurt you," she said quietly - determinedly, more a personal mission statement than a promise. Beth said nothing, merely snuggling closer and closing her eyes. She still felt a deep ache at the way Savannah was suffering because of her choices, but wrapped in Robin's arms she couldn't quite face the only solution - ending the budding relationship.

"God, I could stay here all night," Robin murmured. "But I think it's getting on for time for you to get back."

"You're right... but I don't want to leave. It's getting hard to find a babysitter for Savannah - now that Jenny refuses to help I don't know the next time I'm going to be able to get away."

Robin shifted to tip her head and catch Beth's lips briefly with hers. "We'll work it out," she said. "Besides, Savannah's pretty early to bed. It's not as though we don't have time together with her around."

"I know, it's just..." Beth trailed off, then gave an embarrassed smile. "I guess it's just as well, really."

"Well," Robin said, guessing (or at least hoping) what she was thinking, "there's always Tuesdays and Thursdays after school. And Saturday club, once in a while."

"You're right." Beth leaned in to kiss Robin lightly, though she pulled back before it could turn into anything more. "Well. I guess I'll see you then."

"Take care, sugar," Robin said, pushing to her feet and reaching for her stick - she was off crutches now and had been lucky enough to avoid needing surgery, but she was still a little less fit than she had been before her fall. She put out a hand to help Beth to her feet, though more as a chivalrous gesture than a practical concern. The other woman took it lightly, standing without actually needing support, and the two shared a moment merely standing close to one another, hands clasped, eyes locked.

"Beth," Robin said, hesitating. "I want you to know, if this every becomes too hard for you and Savannah..."

The other woman gave a short laugh, though there was little humor in it. "Are you trying to suggest I give up the good just to be left with the bad? That doesn't sound very appealing..."

"I dunno. I was just... I'd do anything for you," Robin said seriously. "You know that, right?"

"Then keep making it worth my while," Beth told her, smiling more genuinely now. "That's all you need to do."

This got a little smile in return, and Robin tipped her head to kiss Beth - briefly but deeply, almost possessive but not in the dangerous, claustrophobic way that Beth remembered and feared. No, Robin was just happy to be able to kiss her. And that in turn made Beth happy to kiss her back, though she pulled away before she gave into the urge to suggest they move things back to the couch. "Right. Okay. I'll see you Tuesday?"

"See you then."

 

And so it went. Robin continued to be the bright spot in Beth's otherwise less-than-stellar weeks; they saw each other as often as they could, though it was never enough. Though Beth had thought she'd had it bad when she had moved back home five years before she discovered it could indeed get worse. Now the whispers behind her back grew into openly snide comments to her face, and it was all she could do not to shake people by the shoulders every time they walked by and sneered.

The only other mercy, it seemed, came from an unexpected avenue - Paige Marshall. Savannah, staunchly refusing to be beaten by any number of sleepovers she wasn't invited to, had continued to attend gymnastics and came home one evening over the moon, bearing the news that Paige - wonderful, talented, beautiful Paige - had invited her over to play. Beth dutifully delivered her after school the next afternoon, utterly bemused.

Paige's house was a small, tidy bungalow off one of the 'main' roads, surrounded by a neat picket fence, its yard carefully trimmed and manicured. As soon as they pulled up Savannah was out the door, bounding up the front path to ring the doorbell.

Beth was on the alert but she couldn't pick up the sound of any other children playing - it seemed that Savannah had been picked out in particular. This was not only surprising but almost a little suspicious. In any event, there was soon a pattering of footsteps from inside and the door was flung open, the wonderful Paige Marshall standing before them. "Hey," she said, rather uninspiringly, and she stepped back to let Savannah in before remembering, "Oh, my mom says you should stop in for an iced tea."

"Oh, well, thanks," Beth said, though the two girls were already heading off down the hallway, presumably to Paige's bedroom. Hesitating in the foyer for a moment, Beth eventually closed the door behind her and made her way to the kitchen, a bright, airy room at the side of the house.

Paula Marshall was a tall, angular woman with shoulder length hair that she was allowing to go gracefully grey - she looked to be a good ten years older than Beth herself but obviously took good care of herself. The Marshall's weren't local to Bridgeford - Mr Marshall was a successful building contractor and had relocated here to supervise the large luxury housing project that had been underway on the east side of town for some years now and was already doing a good deal for the town's economy, for all that it had met with strenuous objections from some locals. Mrs Marshall, as far as she knew, didn't work, committing her time to bringing up her eight year old daughter and eleven year old son and volunteering with various local charities. She was well-liked but not particularly well-known by the town, generally keeping herself to herself, and the family were frequently away at weekends, presumably visiting friends and relatives.

Hearing Beth's approach, she had already turned to greet her as she entered the kitchen, favouring her with a smile that was genuine but polite.

"Ms Strickland - so glad you brought Savannah round - sit down, I'll get you some tea."

"Thanks very much." Beth found a seat at the kitchen table; she didn't want to admit it but she was slightly nervous about being there. Had Paula Marshall invited her just so she could chastise her face-to-face? She was glad Savannah had someone to play with but wasn't sure it was worth being lectured again. "And please, call me Beth. You have a lovely home."

"Thanks - and Paula, in that case," the older woman said, stooping to fetch a jug of iced tea from the fridge and neatly grabbing a couple of glasses from a cupboard as she passed. "Easy to have a lovely home when you get bespoke carpentry at cost," she said with a conspiratorial smile.

"Still, you have to know what to do with it," Beth commented, watching her pour out two glasses.

"Oh, I guess so," Paula said breezily, sitting down opposite Beth and sliding a glass across the table toward her. "It's just Al getting bored, half the time, honestly," she said with a slight smirk. "He can't stand to be idle and he's long past doing things with his hands at work."

"Well, it looks lovely." Beth smiled tentatively, playing with the glass. Any moment now it would happen - Paula Marshall would put on her Officious Voice and her Concerned Look and she would ask Beth if she had really thought about what she was doing...

"So how are you doing, Beth? I was at a church luncheon the other day and I overheard a couple of the women talking..."

And so it began. "I'm fine. Thank you." She was being short but she couldn't help it - why did people insist on sticking their noses into her business all the damn time?

Paula's brow furrowed a little. "Are you sure? It can't be nice, having those judgmental bitches on your back night and day. I did a little subtle probing with Paige and she told me that they're keeping their kids away from Savannah, too - bluntly I was horrified."

"Oh, I..." Beth gaped for a moment, caught completely off guard. "I'm sorry," she finally managed, blushing. "I didn't know that you meant... that you felt that way."

The other woman's face relaxed into a sympathetic smile, and she shook her head. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised you assumed that, what with what you've been put through. God, those people..."

"They're not that bad," Beth lied. "I mean, they don't really know better..."

"Oh, come on, they're grown ups, aren't they? They've been to school, they've watched TV. There is no excuse for that kind of attitude - anywhere. Besides, they're clearly only prepared to go as far as is convenient, go for the easy target - I haven't seen the picketing the school demanding Robin Davis resign, have you?"

"They know better - she's a fantastic teacher, the school would suffer if they did," Beth said fiercely.

"So they'll put their supposed principles aside to keep their kids well-educated, but they can still find it in their bigoted little hearts to make things shitty for you and yours?" Paula raised her eyebrows. "That doesn't sound like simple 'ignorance' to me. That's just victimisation, pure and simple."

All Beth could manage was a helpless shrug; Paula wasn't wrong, but it wasn't as if she knew what to do about it. "I wouldn't mind so much if it wasn't for Savannah. She doesn't understand, and it's not fair that she has to suffer for it. When Paige invited her over... well, I can't tell you how relieved I was."

"Paige is a good girl. If I'm honest I nudged her slightly, but it didn't take much - she's far more soft-hearted than I am," Paula said in a fond tone.

"Still, I wouldn't want you two to be tarred with the same brush as me... you should be careful or they'll start on you next."

"Oh, nobody wants to be on my bad side - self-interest, remember?"

Beth smiled, then grew pensive again, looking at the other woman across the table with new eyes. Her dread and ready anger had drained away, replaced mainly by a sense of utter relief. She hadn't realized how draining it had been to keep going through the criticism and disapproval, though she knew she had little choice. "How do you stand it?" she finally asked after a minute's silence, reaching for her tea. "Being in this town, surrounded by people like that?"

"Hah - we visit friends a lot," she said. "And enjoy one another's company. I think as long as I was with Al and the kids I could live just about anywhere."

"That's... wonderful, actually. I'm glad you have that. Especially here."

Paula tipped her head to the side a little. "Yeah," she said, her tone thoughtful, "I guess it is. What about you and Robin Davis? I mean, I'm not trying to pry," she said quickly.

Beth smiled and shook her head. "It's okay. To be honest, no one's ever asked me about her - at least, not like that."

"That's a shame. It's always nice to be able to talk about things - or people - that make you happy. Although I'm making assumptions here, of course," she said with a slight smile.

"Oh, she does. She's... wonderful," Beth sighed. "And she does make it easier to... go through all that. Or at least worthwhile."

"Sounds like a keeper."

"Well, um, I don't know... I mean, it's still early yet. Despite the rumor mill we still haven't... well. I don't want to assume anything."

The other woman raised her eyebrows at this. "This is all a bit... new for you, isn't it?" she hazarded.

Feeling her cheeks begin to burn again, Beth smiled shyly. "A bit. Or... a lot."

Paula grinned at this, then caught Beth's expression, "Oh, no, I'm not making fun - you're just so sweet..."

"Well, I'd rather be called that than a slut, I guess," Beth joked, sipping at her tea. "Or a sinner."

Paula's smile faded a little at this. "Well," she said, "wouldn't we all." Then she brightened up. "Why don't the two of you come over for dinner some evening - bring Savannah."

"Are you sure?" she asked, still reeling at the fact that someone would willingly associate with both her and Robin in a social situation. "I mean, will Al..."

Paula laughed at this. "Oh, sweetheart, if you had met Al... Well, you will, soon enough, I'm not taking no for an answer. This weekend some time, perhaps? Or do you need more notice than that?"

"I'll have to check with Robin, but... that sounds wonderful. Thank you, so much."

"With what you're going through? It's the least I can do. Hell, I'd do it even if I didn't like you."

Beth chuckled, finishing the last of her tea. "God, Savannah'll be bouncing off the walls when she hears - getting to spend time with Paige and Robin..."

"They get along, then? That must be great."

"Oh, she adores her. I mean, I know most kids would hate spending any more time with their teacher than they have to, but not 'Vannah. Not that I blame her, I mean, Robin is so great with her, and patient, and-- I'm rambling, aren't I?"

"Not at all. Hey, you're a ranger, right? You interested in gardening at all?"

"Of course," Beth said, raising her eyebrows. "How come?"

"Well, I figured if you wanted to wait while Savannah and Paige play I could show you around the garden."

"I'd love that."

 

"Sounds as though you and Savannah both had a lovely evening."

"We really did. Paula is very kind, and you know how much 'Vannah loves Paige."

Robin smiled warmly. "I'm so glad," she said, holding an arm out for Beth to settle against her in what was becoming their usual manner. "You both needed a break."

"Mm." Beth pulled her feet up beneath her, curling against Robin's side. "She's invited us to dinner this weekend. All of us."

"Wow, really?" Now Robin sounded genuinely surprised. "That's... wow."

"I know. Makes me wish I had known her earlier. Like, years earlier."

"Well, you know her now. Do you want to go? At the weekend, I mean. Are you... ready?"

Beth tipped her head to look up at the other woman. "I think so, but... only if you are. And if you're not, it's okay, I completely und--"

"No, I'd love to," Robin said. "I just don't want you to feel pressured. We haven't really been... out in public?"

"Well, this will just be someone's house... we won't have to worry about anybody else."

Robin grinned, tipping her head to plant a few light kisses across Beth's neck and jaw. "Well, you can call her and confirm, then."

Turning her head at the last minute to catch Robin's lips, Beth indulged in a long, lingering kiss."Okay," she said, smiling as she pulled away.

"And hey," Robin added, "you never know, maybe Savannah will finally have another sleepover..."

 

"I can't thank you enough. It was a really, really lovely evening." Beth clasped Paula's hand for a moment, giving her a grateful smile. Dinner had been a pleasant experience for all - Al was a large, jovial man who seemed as kind and open-minded as his wife, welcoming both Beth and Robin with open arms. He had even managed to get Robin talking a bit about her travels, as it turned out in his younger days he was a bit of a globetrotter himself, and the meal had passed with interesting conversation and good food.

"It was lovely to have you," Paula reciprocated, giving Beth's hand a squeeze. "All of you," she added as Savannah and Paige came barrelling around the corner from the direction of Paige's room.

"Mom! Mom! We're going to watch Finding Nemo!" Savannah announced with a wide grin.

"That's nice, honey. Now, I want you to listen to Mrs Marshall - when she says it's time for bed it's time for bed, okay?"

"Ok-ay," came the reply in a sing-song voice, and the adults shared another amused smile.

"We'll drop her off tomorrow on our way over to [somewhere plausible]," Al confirmed as the girls disappeared into the den. "You'll be at your place?" he directed at Beth.

A quick glance at Robin confirmed this, and she nodded, smiling. "Yes, bring her by any time."

"We'll try and make sure you get a bit of a lie-in," Al said with a wink, and then "Ow!" as Paula gave him a sharp nudge.

Blushing, Beth reiterated her thank-yous and departed soon after, walking slowly down the front path with Robin. More than anything she wished to slip her hand into the other woman's but knew it wasn't wise, even here.

 

The drive back to Beth's home was conducted largely in silence, though not an awkward one, each woman content with their own thoughts and merely enjoying the silence.

Beth had initially been quite nervous about the evening as she had found it hard to believe someone from the town would treat them just as any other couple, but her fears had been dashed by the warm welcome Paula and Al had given them. She had missed that easy, open Southern hospitality and it was good to know they hadn't lost it completely.

Her house seemed very quiet without Savannah, although it was nice to escape the usual bedtime riots once in a while. Beth headed for the kitchen, preparing two glasses of tea while Robin made herself comfortable on the sofa in the small sitting room.

In spite of herself, Robin felt a little nervous. This would be the first time that they had spent the night together alone since they'd become involved, and she wasn't quite sure what to expect. While she was prepared for the idea that they wouldn't go significantly further physically than they had already and was by now pretty good at steeling herself and holding back from being physically pushy, she was less sure how Beth would handle it - would she feel under pressure being thrown into this situation? Would she become hostile, or uncomfortable? Did she already have an idea in her head of how far she wanted to take things? It was impossible to say.

"Here we go," the ranger announced, carrying the glasses into the sitting room and setting them down on the coffee table. Smiling, she came to sit by Robin, one hand settling on her knee. "So. Did you enjoy dinner? I thought Al was very nice."

"They both are," Robin agreed, adding a "Thanks," as she reached for the glass. "Nice house, as well, although I can understand why it's only temporary - it's really too small for two kids."

"It is," Beth agreed with a nod. "I'm sure they'll move up to something just as nice when it's finished."

"Mm, I'm sure." Robin relaxed back on the couch, sipping at her drink for a moment in silence. Then, "'Vannah was the cutest, tonight. You'd think she'd just been declared Queen of Everything."

"Well, she got to spend time with her two favorite people - I can't blame her. She must've felt like she'd won the lottery," Beth said warmly. "I know that's how I feel when I get to spend time with you two."

Her smile widening, Robin covered Beth's hand where it lay on her knee, fingers curling around it. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

"Well, then, I guess I should also tell you how nice you look tonight..."

"I'm wearing the same stuff I always wear..." Robin said, as she always did when Beth complimented her on her appearance.

"I guess that means you always look nice, then," Beth replied with a grin. "I mean, you must know how attractive you are..."

Robin's lips twitched a little into a slight smirk, and she leaned forward to put her glass down before turning a little in her seat to face Bath. "Why don't you tell me?" she suggested.

"Well..." Beth said, cheeks growing pink, "your eyes are amazing. I don't know if I've met someone with gray eyes before, but they're just so... Clear but deep at the same time."

"Really?" Robin said, a mock expression of doubt falling over her features. "Mm, I don't think so. I like brown eyes," she added, lifting her free hand to brush some stray hairs away from Beth's face. "You know, that warm, rich brown that looks so dark indoors but outside in the sun you see ripples like polished cross-cut walnut. But go on," she teased.

"I... Um. You have amazing lips. They're always so pink, and when you smile it lights up you whole face. I like it when you smile."

Robin did smile, now, but she shook her head. "I dunno," she said, her gaze drifting down to Beth's lips now. "I like fuller lips," she said, "full and soft. Something you can get your teeth into," she added with a tiny, slightly wicked grin, and Beth could tell she was thinking about the tiny whimper that she'd given when Robin had caught her lower lip gently between her teeth a couple of nights previously - a gesture that had surprised her even as it had stoked her desire. Squirming, she bit her lip in an unconscious imitation of that night, and dropped her eyes shyly to her lap.

"Different strokes, I guess... I bet now you're going to say you don't like tall, slim, gorgeous figures either."

"Well, I'm with you on gorgeous. But I'll admit I prefer curves," Robin said, eyes travelling appreciatively across Beth's figure. "It sounds as though we're never going to agree here..."

Beth looked up from beneath lowered lashes then, a small smile creeping across her lips. "I guess not."

"You're amazing, you know that?" Robin murmured now, fingers lightly stroking across Beth's cheek.

"Hey, I thought we were talking about you..."

"And now I'm talking about you."

"Okay, well... What makes me so amazing, then?" Beth asked, enjoying the sensation of Robin's fingers against her cheek.

"Mm, well, we've already talked about those eyes, and your lips, and your body," Robin said, shifting a little closer and lowering her voice slightly. "So let's talk about something else... how about the way you feel?" she suggested, fingertips trailing down along Beth's jawline.

"I always feel good when you're around..."

"Glad to hear it," came the reply, and Robin leaned in, then, though her lips found not Beth's mouth but her jawline where they followed the trail of her fingertips, ending where it met her ear and flicker her tongue out, just briefly, before she whispered, "Tell me how you feel now."

Beth moaned softly, closing her eyes as she felt Robin's warm breath on her ear. "God..."

"That's not an answer," Robin murmured. "How do you feel?" she asked again, her lips tickling Beth's skin, her fingers weaving through her hair as she pulled her a little closer, catching her earlobe gently between her teeth.

"I feel... like if you keep doing that we're not going to be able to talk much longer," Beth breathed.

"I'm okay with that..." was the answer, and Robin pulled back a little to meet Beth's eyes, their faces inches apart, her expression questioning. Beth answered with a kiss, deep and insistent, sliding her hand to Robin's waist as their knees bumped, and Robin responded in kind, her own hand escaping Beth's grip and sliding a little up her thigh.

This time Beth exhibited none of the timidity that had marked some of their earlier encounters. Her kisses were hungry, her hands sliding to knead Robin's sides, plucking at the light fabric of her top.At first part of Robin wanted to hesitate, weeks of training reining in her instincts as she wondered how long this would last, scared of the moment that Beth pulled back, asked that they stop, but then she felt Beth's fingers slip beneath her shirt and up across her bare sides and her resistance crumbled, a moan escaping her throat, her hand slipping of its own accord up beneath the thin material of Beth's sundress over the smooth, warm skin of her thigh.

She felt the other woman shudde and pres closer, smoothing her palms over Robin's taut back. Her tongue darted out to tangle with the taller woman's, drawing a small noise of need from her throat.

A rush of sensations were running through Robin - excitement, arousal, relief, so strong that they almost overrode the sudden stab of pain from her leg as she twisted a little too far without realising. "Shit..." she muttered, pulling back, hand drawing back from around Beth's shoulders to clamp onto the offending muscle. "Sorry..."

It took a moment for Beth to parse what was going on - once she realised she sucked in a breath, furrowing her brow in concern. "Is there anything I can do?"

Robin hesitated, reluctant to push her luck. "We could lie down again?" she suggested tentatively.

"Okay," Beth agreed, standing a second later and offering Robin a hand. "The sofa's not really big enough for two," she offered by way of explanation, blushing.

Robin didn't stand immediately, afraid her knees would buckle under her at the tremor that ran through them now. "Are you sure?" she asked quietly, one last time. The other woman gave a silent nod, her eyes dark and full of desire.

Beth's bedroom was the smallest room in the house - she'd given the master bedroom to her daughter and moved herself into the second bedroom, the double bed against the wall dominating most of the floor space.

She flicked on the bedside lamp, still clasping Robin's hand tightly. Everything was neat and tidy, a large print of a sunset over the water taking up much of the free space on the above the bed.

Robin didn't immediately sit, instead tugging gently on Beth's hand to turn her so that they stood face to face, and she smiled down at her, enjoying the way the dim, diffuse light rested on her smooth features. Beth smiled back, her other hand seeking Robin's hip and resting there lightly, though she feel the faintest of tremors - whether from nerves or anticipation she wasn't sure, and then Robin had dipped her head and was kissing her again, hands sliding around to rest on Beth's back, pulling her close.

The tug deep in her stomach, which had abated slightly when Robin had hurt her leg, returned with full force as Beth pressed against the other woman, returning the kiss enthusiastically. Robin heard a quiet whimper and realised that it was her, and a moment later she pulled back again, this time to say, "You're in control here, sugar. This is all about you. Just... anything you want, okay? And no more." Her voice was thick and husky, her hands trembling, just slightly, as they gathered Beth's dress up a little where they lay at the small of her back, but her tone was resolute.

"I want you," Beth murmured, this time sliding her hands under Robin's shirt in one confident motion and sighing at the sensation of the smooth, warm skin under her palms.

Robin shivered a little, dipping her head to press her mouth to Beth's shoulder, her voice muffled as she muttered. "Christ, Beth..."

"I want you. And I don't want you to hold back." Beth barely recognized her own voice, thick with desire, or the need spiking through her, causing the feeling of Robin's lips against her skin to spread across her whole body until she could think of little else. "Please, Robin..."

This, apparently, was what Robin needed to hear, because she shifted focus, then, lifting her head a little, her lips moving across to Beth's neck, hands sliding up her back to find the zipper of her dress. Tipping her head back and closing her eyes, Beth felt the sound of the zipper like a ripple over her already-sensitive skin and a moment later it was instensified with the touch of Robin's fingers skimming down her spine, lips lightly catching her earlobe again on her way to her mouth. Robin's breathing was still slow and steady, but Beth thought it was a little shallow.

The other woman did let out a moan now, tugging impatiently at the hem of Robin's shirt, but the taller woman ignored her for now, instead concentrating her efforts on the slow removal of Beth's dress and bra, though the simplicity of the clothing meant that for all her patience it was only a few moments before the dress was pooled about her feet, the bra gone, and Beth's warm, supple skin was uncovered beneath her hands.

Beth shivered; it wasn't cold in the room but Robin's slow, gentle fingers across her lower back sent a ripple through her. Arching her back, she leaned in to kiss the other woman again, parting her lips and delving her tongue deeply, and Robin gave a muffled groan, sounding almost pained at this, hands shifting to cup Beth's shapely rear and pull her flush against her.

With a gasp Beth complied, heart racing. Though Robin's actions were needy, almost desperate, she felt none of the worry or panic that had once marked her encounters with Dan. Instead she felt only a mirroring urgency, unable to get enough of the sensation of the other woman's skin under her fingers, the taste of her lips, the small noises of desire and need she uttered with each breath.

Robin pulled back, then, just a little, as by mutual agreement they together worked loose the buttons of her shirt and she shrugged it off onto the floor, wordlessly reaching behind herself to unfasten and remove her own bra.