Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Cops & Hookers By Yurislit (C) 2007 I began this as something else, but
someone close to me made me redraft it.  It is dedicated to Sarah.  The
Sarah in this story in no way resembles the Sarah for whom the story is
written.  The writter can be contacted at yurislit@yahoo.ca

   ------------------------



   Up to the day she got shot Lt.  Faith O'Bannon believed she was all that
and bulletproof.  She stood 5'10" and weighed around 140 lbs.  Her coppery
hair was cut to a severe regulation style and length.  Her eyes were almost
the color of vintage coke bottles, a disconcerting light opaline green. 
She was not beautiful in the conventional sense, but she wasn't
unattractive, either; if she stood out in a crowd, it was more because of
sex appeal, vitality and self confidence, than for pure physical beauty. 
Off duty she was a jeans and t-shirt girl, her 34D breasts, slim waist and
long supple legs all adding to her allure.  She was a twelve year veteran
of the NYPD.

   She had begun her rookie years doing foot patrol, even though she had a
degree from NYU in law enforcement.  Like every other rookie, she loathed
the long hours on her feet, and never ending, unreasonable, blind hatred
the citizens of New York display towards their police department.  In the
first two years she kept mostly to herself, spending her free time
expanding her knowledge of police procedure and studying for the first
grueling civil service exam, which should she pass, would put her in line
for promotion to sergeant.  While she `pounded a beat' she had been knifed
superficially in the back, shot at during a drive-by and couldn't count how
many times she had been slapped, punched, chased and bitten by dogs,
rescued hissing, scratching and biting cats from trees or being verbally
abused, not to mention being spat upon by irate citizens.  She had, had
serious thoughts of quitting the force, until she received her first
promotion.  She gained a partner and together they shared a patrol car and
things became infinitely better.

   Her new partner was Rachel Meyers; a ten year veteran who took the young
woman under her wing.  Rachel was an `outed' lesbian, with a slightly
bottom-heavy figure who's main gripe in life was that her figure was 34 24
38 and she could never find an `off the rack bikini' to fit, but she was
happily involved with a senior assistant district attorney, and never once
made any sexual advances towards Faith, which was more than could be said
for more than half her male colleagues.  Until she was partnered with
Rachel, Faith had dated and slept with a few of her male counterparts, but
somehow, although she liked them and enjoyed the camaraderie, there was
simply no `spark'.  After her promotion she spent far more time studying
for promotion, practicing with firearms and martial arts, than involving
herself romantically.

   Rachel's guidance did not end when they logged off shift.  She became
her young partner's confidant and mentor, in NYPD vernacular, her rabbi. 
In subtle ways Faith began to emulate Rachel, so it came as no surprise to
the departmental heads, when Faith began to seek out the company and the
friendship of the females within and outside the precinct, before again
seeking out only male friendships.  Secretly they chalked it up to her
partner's influence rather than Faith's own choice, all her new
relationships being platonic in nature, so there was no proof that Faith
had `crossed the line' sexually, and it was merely precinct gossip that
persisted the three years Rachel and Faith were teamed up together, the
dyke and the cupcake.

   A few months after Faith had passed the competitive civil service
examinations and was qualified for further promotion should a post fall
vacant, her partnership with Rachel was broken up and Faith was promoted to
sergeant and moved to Sex Crimes, where she was partnered with a senior
male detective, Lieutenant Tom Lucian, a veteran with almost twenty years
experience and on the fast track for promotion, himself.  Together, over
the next three years they investigated rapes, molestations, prostitution
and all crimes where sex was involved, or the motivation.  Due to her
obvious intelligence and the fact she had single-handedly tracked down and
arrested a violent serial rapist, she had come to the notice of the press,
the deputy chiefs and finally the Borough Commander.

   Outwardly it seemed that the departmental heads of her precinct were
right in their assessment that Faith had briefly been under Rachel's
undesirable lesbian influence.  As a newly promoted sergeant, she thrived
in her latest appointment, she and Tom worked well together, within a year
their department's arrest record and quotas of solved crimes were by far
the best in the division, if not the city.  A position they maintained
thereafter.  On a personal level she seemed to have no regular boyfriend,
but continued to maintain a strict regimen of study and work that left
little time for a social life.  She got on really well with Tom's wife and
was treated like a favorite aunt by his kids.  It appeared she had little
contact with her ex-partner.  Division began `grooming' Faith for bigger
things.  Secretly, she still visited her `rabbi' and remained as close as
ever.

   Bigger things happened within a few months of her passing the highest
civil service proficiency exam.  With a looming mayoral election due in the
fall, the incumbent Mayor and the Police Chief announced that they were
going to restructure the way crime were being fought in the city.  Among
the many change, new division was being formed to handle sex crimes, and
newly promoted Captain Tom Lucian would report directly to Inspector
McKenzie, who in turn reported directly to the Deputy Chief.  His deputy
would be newly promoted Lieutenant Faith O'Bannon, together with a squad of
carefully chosen officers and specialists; they would liaise with the sex
crimes departments within every precinct in the city.  The Unit would have
city-wide jurisdiction, with liaison officers in every Borough, and have
close links with the FBI.  In fact, both Faith and Tom, prior to the
Mayor's announcement had spent three months at Quantico studying FBI
methods and building relationships with agents who specialized in all forms
of sex related crimes.  At the age of 30, Faith was one of the youngest
female police lieutenants in New York's history.

   The Mayor was re-elected, the Sex Crimes Unit or SCU as it became known,
was about the only promise the politicians kept, and was a success from
inception.  It kept Tom was almost permanently anchored to his office at
Divisional Head Quarters, leaving Faith to oversee the unit's day to day
running.  The SCU not only investigated day to day rapes and crimes, where
sex had been the motivator but, tracking down vicious serial rapists who
raped and sometimes murdered their victims.  Due to the changing times and
technology they also tracked sexual predators and pedophiles on the
internet.  Computer operators monitored `chat rooms' and lured electronic
perpetrators out from behind the anonymity of `screen-names' into the open
with `sting operations' and back-tracing their IP addresses.  They also
liaised with Interpol, sharing information with police agencies around the
world, and were involved in successful arrests and prosecutions, globally.

   In the twelve years that she had been a police officer, Faith had also
built up a large network of informants, both paid, and unpaid.  These
informants came from many diverse places; some were merely outraged hotel
concierges, others were concerned citizens or anti-pornography groups or
self-styled internet monitors, but there were also petty criminals,
addicts, hookers, call-girls or exotic dancers.  Some were people who were
or had been victims of the crimes she had investigated and were willing to
help, for whatever reason.

   One of these informants called Faith on her cellular phone, late in the
afternoon, while she was in her car, between appointments.  "Is that Lt
O'Bannon?" a breathless voice asked.

   "Yes, who is calling?" Faith asked.

   "This is Montana, you know, from Randy's Rumba Room, off Bleecker and
Charles." Came whispered reply.

   Montana...Mentally Faith pictured Montana and her rap sheet; she had
arrested the woman about a year ago for prostitution.  Real Name Sarah
Wallace, a.k.a.  Montana: Emigrated from London England 2002.Arrested for
public lewdness, prostitution or drug possession at least a dozen times. 
She was in her late 20's, with a face of a corrupted angel.  Innocent yet
decadent with almond shaped washed-out blue eyes that had seen too much;
long bleached blonde hair that hung down her back.  Her breasts were
naturally large, at least a 36C and silicone free, beneath them, a trim
belly, shaven genitals and long well muscled, dancer's legs.  If you washed
off the make up she could be the girl-next-door.  She used to spend most of
her money on cocaine until Faith arrested her.  On being released she
continued to `dance' at Randy's Rumba Room, a few nights a week, because
Faith suspected the owner of the sleazy strip joint was blackmailing her.
The place was run by a wannabe mobster who pimped out his `dancers' and
sold a little smack in the back office.  Montana/Sarah had confided in
Faith that even though Faith had arrested her, because she had been treated
with dignity, after paying a fine she would have to return to the club, but
would be willing to act as an informer for her.  She had given Faith many
tips about club owner Randy William's illegal activities, in fact, she had
reported on Randy's illegal activities constantly up till a few weeks ago,
but nothing yet that had been substantial enough to warrant an arrest.  She
had also genuinely tried to clean up, and had volunteered to go into
outpatient drug rehab, and dry out.  Every meeting and appointment was
religiously kept, and she remained drug free, her weekly drug tests all
came back negative.  She resumed a health care course during the day and
stayed out of trouble.  She had never once asked for any compensation
either.

   "What can I do for you Montana?" She asked.

   Montana's British accent obviously came from breeding and education, a
far cry from the seedy strip club, she worked for.  "It's what I can do for
you, Lieutenant." She pronounced it Left-tenant.  " You have always been
fair, treated me better than I deserve, this time, this time I've got the
goods on Randy, I promise I have proof that he's dealing drugs, guns, and
bribing cops.  Not penny ante stuff, real evidence, and I'm willing to
testify.  Can we meet somewhere?" Montana whispered.

   "Where and when?" Came the curt response.

   "I'm dancing the late shift; you can always swing by the club for a
`table-dance'.  I'll let you go as far as you want." She giggled, "Or we
can meet after I finish.  There's a Starbucks open all night on Bleecker
just near the club, I can meet you there at about 2:30, if you don't want
to watch me to dance for you."

   "Its not that I wouldn't enjoy watching you dance, but I think Randy
would suspect something if I arrested him right after I took you for a
table dance, Montana, so I'll see you at Starbucks."

   "At 2:30 then, please, I have really good information this time, I know
you can use it, see you at Starbucks, I have to go now, bye."

   Faith continued along her way, finishing off her appointment with a city
official, before reporting back to Tom, where they discussed the recent
reversals the Unit had endured where suspects walked free because
previously water-tight cases seemed to disintegrate and witnesses change
their testimony on the stand.  They agreed that someone within their Unit
was supplying information to the criminals they were trying to get off the
streets.  They would launch an internal investigation with internal affairs
help in the morning.  She logging off, driving home in her official
unmarked car home before showering and slipping into a comfortable pair of
denims and opaline green t-shirt that matched the unusual hue of her eyes.
Her unmarked car was identical to a police cruiser, except for the
paintwork.  It also was fitted with a GPS transmitter, and she didn't want
her comings and goings monitored, so she chose her own car, a two year old
red Honda coupe that she was still making payments on, and after making
sure she had no `tail', she headed towards her rabbi's apartment.

   Ray was always glad to see her ex-partner.  Their apartment was the one
place where the young police officer could truly relax and be in the
company of people who shared her sexual preferences.  She had skillfully
helped navigate Faith's rise from the ranks, carefully guiding her past the
pitfalls and traps that naïve lesbians like herself had fallen prey to when
she had begun her own career.  She realized once she had come `out' that
there would be no big promotions and she was destined to retire a sergeant,
no matter how highly qualified she was, there was little possibility of
attaining a lieutenant's shield except of course as a `token' to the
gay-lesbian community.  Carrie, her lover for the past 9 years was equally
plateau-ed in her job as a senior assistant district attorney.  Together
they plotted and planned behind the scenes with Faith, helped her over
agonizing crushes, and steering her away from relationships that could
jeopardize her career, keeping her on track, professionally.  They were
sincerely happy for her achievements, treating her like a favorite younger
sister, a little sister whose sexual preferences they'd guard to the grave.

   Carrie had made them a casserole dinner, and the three, sat back as old
friends do, eating dinner while they chatted earnestly about the problems
and reversals she had recently discovered at SCU, and listening to Carrie's
views from the ADA's office and Rachel's levelheaded advice.  After that
they laughed and snickered while swapping gossip and regaling each other
about the odd situations mutual acquaintances found themselves in, or
giggled, while reliving some of the silly incidents involving dumb `perps'
they had arrested during their time together as patrol officers.  It was
close to 1:00 when Faith kissed her two friends good night, as usual, she
promised to phone them first and let them know if she ever was in any
trouble.

   New York never sleeps, even at 1:45 AM, the streets thronged with cars
and people, Faith found a parking spot a couple of blocks from Starbucks,
and decided to kill time by doing some window shopping until 2:30, checking
for `knock-offs' of Gucci, Dior and other designer labels in boutiques that
never seemed to stay open for longer than a week, depending on the
merchandise they offered for sale.

   Three quarters of an hour can drag by, when you are not really
interested in what you are looking at.  She hesitated before finally
entering the strip club.  The noise inside was deafening.  It may have been
a warm evening outside, but inside the seedy club, it was sweltering, Faith
stood just inside an alcove, beside the inner doorway, where she had a
clear view of the stage, yet, remain partially hidden in the shadows.  The
club was only about half full, most of the patrons were men, and they
clustered around tables loaded with beer bottles, and looked up at a tatty
stage, set slightly above eyelevel.  Music with re-worked bass thumped
through enormous speakers set in every corner, A pale blond gyrated to
R.Kelly's "Bump and grind "while displaying her vagina, to the men who
would have leered at her, even if she were fully dressed and in pigtails,
dancing to the "Teddy bear's picnic"

   The lights came on briefly, as the music died, the club's announcer,
whipped up his audience.  "Give Callie a big hand Ladies and Gentlemen...
Callie." He droned before announcing the next dancer.  "Ladies and
gentlemen direct from London England, I give you, Montana."

   Garishly made up with dark mascara and eye shadow, almost
unrecognizable, Montana stepped out onto the rickety stage.  She was
wearing a tall Western hat and a gaudy poncho, her legs were encased in
leather chaps, her feet thrust into high heeled western boots.  She twirled
on the stage, the poncho lifted waist high, displaying, from behind, her
well muscled legs and naked supple ass.  Soft Cell's "Tainted Love" thumped
out of the sound system, as she almost slithered up to the brass pole,
embedded center stage.  Marc Almond's `campy' voice jarred Montana's
actions; she mimed and swayed with the music, obviously professionally
choreographed, and well rehearsed.  In a flash the poncho disappeared,
leaving Montana wearing only the hat, chaps and boots.  Her breasts
jiggled, her body movements describing an angel, wanton with a tainted
sensual need to love and be loved, like the words to the song she was
dancing to.  A flashing strobe captured her actions, silver cache-ing her
movements and presenting a series of erotic monochrome stills; as Montana
captivated the audience into a breathless silence.  Marc Almond wailed
about his twisted love for Christian Andrews, the strobe faded, Montana's
body was painted in reds, blues, yellows, greens, and a haze of smoke
swirled at her feet she posed, in an erotic montage of sexuality, each
nuance touching Faith's soul.  The Enthralled police woman watched in awe,
her throat dry, as the music began to build up to its finale and Montana
bent down, her legs wide at the ankles, showing the stunned audience her
beautiful behind, and exquisite genitals.  The chaps were cunningly pulled
free of her body, she stood naked, forlorn and vulnerable, exposed, in
front of the leering men, clad in a Stedson and boots; the angel had fallen
from Heaven.  The music faded to silence...

   Faith was shaking, she knew she was physically aroused by Montana; yet,
she was angry, so fucking angry she wanted to rip every man in the bar to
shreds, she almost staggered from the pungent bar, and into the relative
cool, but polluted air outside.  Her breath came back to her finally after
a few minutes of walking and she regained her composure.  She sauntered
into the coffee shop at the appointed time and ordered a coffee and cream
from a busy clerk and looked around for Montana, but knowing the stripper
wouldn't arrive for at least another 10 minutes.  Even at 2:30 the coffee
shop was a hive of activity, she found a booth close to the door, in the
front of the store where she could look out the window.  She sat sipping
her coffee and keeping an eye out for her informant.  Montana hurried into
Starbucks 15 minutes late looking furtively behind her.  She wore
nondescript jeans, and a form concealing blouse, her face was scrubbed
clean of make up alluding to the `girl-next-door' impression, her peroxide
flaxen hair was woven into a thick French braid that hung down her back,
she wore a tartan flat cap, complete with a pom-pom, the peak pulled low
down her forehead.  After ordering her coffee she slipped into the booth
opposite Faith.

   "Thank you for coming Lieutenant, this is for you.  " She said handing
Faith a digital camera that, although thicker, resembled a credit card and
was attached to a key-ring.

   "Whats this about Montana?" Faith asked taking the camera.

   "It starts with some pictures of Randy and these new Russian guys that
are his partners now.  You can see pictures in the back of the club, where
they're selling guns for stolen credit cards, doing coke or fucking some of
us, then I managed to take some of the girls that still do blow, doing one
of your cops, Angelo Sacotta, when Randy got him all coked up, and we all
watched when Randy fucked him in the ass, Randy is blackmailing him, which
I think you'd be interested in." She said with brutal honesty, "There are
pictures of a whole stack of dope that the Russians are dealing, and also
some pictures of illegal Russian girls Randy and the Russians smuggled into
New York to be hookers, dancers and such, Randy has five new girls, some of
them can't even speak English, one of the Russian dudes, Serge, beat the
crap outta one of them, Natalie her name is, when she tried to run away. 
Because I'm doing my Personal Care course again I've been told to look
after her.  She just lays there and cries when she isn't high on the
Dilaudid suppositories that the bastards sticks up her pussy when I'm not
around to keep her quiet, it's an illegal drug, and I'll never graduate if
my lecturers find out.  When she's stoned they let johns in back, to fuck
her, I've got pics of that too.  It's not right!  You have to stop them
Lieutenant."

   "And you have pictures of this, of sergeant Sacotta, the one who was
with me when you were arrested?  All that...the dope...the illegal Russian
women, all in this little camera?" Faith asked incredulously.

   "Yes it cost $15.00, I don't suppose the pics are great quality, I don't
have a computer to check what they look like but I've taken as many shots
as the camera will allow before it needs to be unloaded onto a computer."
She said before continuing, "I watch CSI, I know you have technicians that
can enhance whatever I took and make it into evidence.  Then you can put
that blackmailing bastard Randy Williams behind bars where he belongs! 
I'll testify; I'll take the stand and help put him in jail. 
Son-of-a-bitch! I hope they ream his arse, inside!  Ream him real good. 
Make him their bitch." She spat, tears flowing down her cheeks.

   Faith pulled out her cell, she hit speed dial, and it was answered
within seconds." Ray?  Its Faith, I need your help and Carrie's, now, right
away, how soon can you get to Starbucks, on Bleecker?  I need a big, big
favor.  "She held her phone to her ear, listening.  "Okay, half an hour,
perfect, we're waiting for you, be sure to bring Carrie, we'll need the
DA's input here also, no like we spoke about tonight, I think I've found
SCU's mole, I'll be speaking to Tom too, I'll phone him after I finish with
you, I don't know all the facts.  I don't want this bust going south; I
want a conviction this time."

   She dialed again, this time it took longer for the phone to be answered.
"Hey Tom, Faith, sorry to wake you, I'm at Starbucks on Bleecker with an
informant, I think I know who our `mole' is.  I'll meet you in your office,
we are gonna bust this wide open, get hold of division; I need warrants and
SWAT as soon as possible.  How soon?  Yes I do know what time it is.  No
tomorrow morning is too late, I need it before breakfast!  Okay, I'll hold
you to that; I'll meet you at the office in an hour, see ya." She flipped
the phone off.

   "Ok Sarah, I trust you here, if this camera has what you say it has,
you'll have to find a new place to dance, the Rumba Room and Randy and his
Russian buddies are going out of business." She said to the nervous dancer.
"I'm going to put you up with someone I trust with my life, she'll not let
anything happen to you, until I can arrange something more permanent for
you, she's on her way as we speak, as soon as your safe with her, my boss
and I are gonna begin frying Randy Williams and his Russian mobster buddy's
asses!  Drink your coffee, its getting cold." She smiled, closing her hand
over Sarah's

   Both women sipped their coffees, waiting silently.  Faith glanced at her
watch, while Montana slid lower in her seat biting her lip while peering
fearfully out of the window as pedestrians and cars drove by.

   It seemed to be an eternity before Ray and Carrie drew up alongside
Starbucks in Carrie's BMW, Faith took Montana by the arm, your ride's here,
come let's go."

   They walked towards the car, Rachel got out the passenger door as they
approached.  "Faith, whats this all about?

   "I need you to look after a star witness, Ray, please, and I need Carrie
to come with me to see Tom, I've...." Faith began answering her friend,
before she could finish, there was a loud revving of an engine and
squealing of tires, a minivan rocketed towards the double parked BMW.  A
man leaned out of the sliding door and began firing an automatic weapon at
them, the staccato of gunfire and whining of ricochets filled the air, shop
and car windows disintegrated as a hail of bullets was sprayed in their
direction.  Both Faith and Rachel reacted with blind instinct, drawing
their pistols.  Rachel returned fire first; yelling to Faith.  "Go wide,
I'll cover you." While kneeling and firing double handed across the trunk.
Faith pushed Sarah safely to the ground almost underneath the car before
moving out into the middle of the road in an attempt to draw the gunman's
fire.  She aimed at the driver of the minivan and started shooting.  Her
ruse worked, and the gunman changed his aim and shot in her direction as
she began shooting at the driver.  She felt a searing pain in her leg
closely followed by numbing pain just above her elbow; her arm was
instantly numb, and she was flung backwards at least 3 feet, landing in the
middle of the road.  Her pistol fell from her limp fingers as the minivan
careened off the road and into a lamppost less than 50 feet from where she
lay, sprawled on her back in the middle of the road.

   Even though an automatic machine pistol has far greater rate of fire
than semi-automatic pistol, its rate of fire is also its drawback, as it is
almost impossible to keep it aimed after the first few shots on automatic,
moreover with its limited range of accuracy, 25 yards, it makes a foolish
choice of a weapon for an amateur when facing trained police officers. 
Rachel kept her head and used both hands, resting them across the BMW's
trunk lid for support; she fired as the man leaned out of the sliding door
to get a better shot at Faith, standing silhouetted in the middle of the
road.  Bullets from her .40 Smith & Wesson found their mark.  As the out of
control vehicle swerved into the lamppost and steam hissing from the
shattered radiator, Randy Williams slid face first onto the street, a fully
automatic CZ .32 Scorpion machine pistol sliding from his lifeless grasp.
There was a moment of stunned silence, followed by a cacophony of car
alarms, and screaming, mostly from people in blind panic.  Rachel ran to
her protégé who lay, face up, in the middle of the road..

   Faith oozed blood, it soaked into the skimpy opaline green t-shirt, and
through the denim of her jeans, pooling on the tar road.  Her eyes were
shut, her breathing shallow.  She was deathly pale.  It was Sarah who began
tending Faith's wounds." Oh my God, she's been hit in the artery below her
knee; I have to apply direct pressure." She held her hand over the spurting
wound, slowing the flow of blood slightly.  "It's not slowing enough, I
need to make a tourniquet, we have to stem the flow or she'll bleed out in
less than 5 minutes.  I'm not qualified to do more, she said while wrapping
her belt around the top of Faith's knee, get hold of 911, this needs to be
tended to real fast!" She shouted to Rachel, before screaming at Faith,
"Leftenant!  Faith, please don't die on me, please God!  Faith, please,
live for me."

   Rachel was already on her phone." Operator, Shots fired...Officer
Down... I repeat officer down...corner Bleecker and Charles; this is
sergeant Rachel Meyers, badge number 47628.  I am off duty, and require
immediate assistance.

   Faith opened her eyes, she struggled to sit up but was too weak, almost
in slow motion, her curiously colored eyes tried to focus, and inch by inch
she lifted her unwounded arm, she gave the blood spattered camera to
Rachel. "Get this to Tom, he's in his office waiting for me." she
whispered, "and please look after Ser...haaaa..." Her eyes rolled back.  In
the distance sirens began to wail.

   Through the fog Faith heard, an upper-crust English accent pleading with
her.  "You've got to stay awake, please.  Stay awake." It was so peaceful
and silent, she could hear herself breathing, and she could sense her pulse
weakening, she lay semiconscious, unaware of the invading darkness.

   The ceiling tiles were white, the bed hard.  She hurt.  A plastic bag
full of clear liquid was suspended above her head and was plugged painfully
into her arm.  Faith groaned, both of her legs throbbed, she couldn't move.
Her eyelids were heavy every part of her body was sore.  "Thirsty." She
mumbled.  Almost instantly a plastic tube was pushed into her mouth, cool
water flowed from it, she sucked thirstily.  She turned her head, her neck
muscles were stiff.  Montana smiled brightly holding a plastic bottle in
one hand.  Her clothes were rumpled, she was pale and had dark rings under
her eyes.

   "Hey." She said.  "Your awake, I need to fetch the doctor, he's down the
hall."

   "Don't leave me, where am I?  What happened?  Whats wrong with me?  Tell
me!" She slurred.

   "You're in Hospital.  You were shot, do you remember, Friday night,
Randy and the minivan?  You saved my life, do you remember that?" She
asked. "You've been unconscious for 3 days.  Lay still I need to fetch the
doctor." Sarah ordered.

   "Don't leave, why cant I move, am I paralyzed?" Faith croaked.

   "No, your legs are buckled down so your stitches wont bust, a bullet
nicked the bone above your elbow, so your right arm is immobilized in a
fiberglass cast, lay still don't fight, you don't wan t to damage any
nerves there.  You can move your left arm; the doctor can explain a lot
better than me.  And Ray and your boss wanted to know the moment you woke
up, I'll be back in a jiffy, just be calm, its okay." Sarah said while
walking to the door.

   The room was still, beside the bed there must have been at least fifty
floral arrangements, ranging from simple bunches in ceramic vases to
expensive exotic displays, the room smelled like a flower shop.  She was
wearing a horrible white bed jacket, open at the back.  She moved her left
arm, slowly she reached over and managed to get hold of the water bottle,
thirstily she sucked, trying to quench her thirst.

   A tall handsome man wearing a white coat, with a stethoscope elegantly
draped around his shoulders walked towards the bed followed by Sarah.  "Ah,
Lt O'Bannon, I am Dr Fabian," he introduced himself.  "How are you
feeling?" he asked, before taking his stethoscope and began listening to
her various organs.  He took a small flashlight, and shone it into her
eyes. He nodded approvingly.  "Yes!  Better than we hoped, you gave us all
a big scare.  If your, um, fiancée, hadn't kept direct pressure on your
ruptured femoral artery, you would have died, it was a damned good thing
she was there." He said pointing towards a blushing Sarah.  "You should
thank her, you have her blood in you, its uncommon for um, couples to share
AB- blood, again, lucky for you she gladly donated hers when we were
running out, altogether we used 20 units to save your life."

   "We need to keep you still for a while, I don't want all my hard work to
be for nothing, I'm going to ease the straps on your legs, but try not to
move, we don't want to rupture the sutures, it's going to take a while, you
were in theater for over six hours, we used a small section from your
undamaged leg to patch your damaged artery, in the other leg, that's why
both legs must be immobilized." He pulled back the bedclothes and lifted
the bed-gown up around her waist removed the dressings and inspecting the
livid red, stitched wounds before easing the belts that immobilized her
legs .  "Yes, healing nicely!  You've been in intensive care until we
thought you were stable enough to bring you out of your coma, my prognosis
is that you'll be you're your feet for a day or so, but, your friend here,
can enter you in next year's Boston Marathon, we expect a full recovery."
He grinned.  "I'll leave you girls to chat, but don't tire her out, Ms
Wallace, no shenanigans either, keep that for when you're home." He
chuckled as he left.

   " Fiancée?  Couple, home?  What the hell is he talking about?" Faith
asked after the door had closed.

   "It was the only way I could stay with you Lieutenant, or else they
wouldn't let me be here with you, its family only.  In the ambulance and
when you were admitted to the ER, I said I was your, um... fiancée it was
the only way that I could stay with you.  If you died, I wanted to be with
you." She said softly before saying" I'm sorry if I embarrassed you." She
shut her eyes and continued softly.  " Why do you think I've tried so hard
getting it back together, since, I was arrested?  I know this isn't the
right time.  I don't know if there'll ever be a right time." She swallowed,
licking at the tears flowing down her cheeks" I know you'll never want me,
or love me; I'm a whore, you're a cop.  But I've fallen in love with you;
I'll do anything for you." Sarah whispered; her faded blue eyes awash with
tears.

   "Shhhhhhh, don't cry, its okay, don't ever say that again, okay?" Faith
had a mental picture of Sarah's dance, the silver still life's the strobe
captured, the finale, where she stood alone, naked and exposed, in front of
drunk, insensitive men.  "You've made a new start, a new life, what you
were before doesn't count.  " She croaked, finding it difficult to speak.
"I never want you to say the words, whore, again, understand?  If you're my
fiancée you better call me Faith, I think the staff here might suspect
you've been fibbing if you keep calling me `Leftenant' unless you want them
to think we're in some kind of kinky dominance relationship." Faith
caressed Sarah's arm.

   The tender moment was broken when both Rachel and Tom walked through the
door at the same time.  They spoke together.  " We've just spoken to the
Doctor, how're you feeling." Rachel and Tom laughed.

   Rachel spoke.  "Hey Montana, are you still playing nurse?" she asked.

   "Damn it Ray, her name is Sarah." Faith croaked

   "Well excuse me, Miss Priss!  I see getting shot hasn't improved they
way you speak to your friends, I'm glad to see you too, hon." She said
laughing.  "Hi Sarah, still playing nurse?" she re-asked, smiling.

   Tom spoke, "You had us all worried, Faith, and I see you got the
flowers. Dana and the kids send their love.  The ER doctors gave you little
chance when they brought you in; you had almost no blood left.  You are
alive because Montana kept pressure on the wound until the paramedics got
to you from what I can tell, also, the specialist Dr Fabian.  "He shook his
head, "Montana wouldn't let him give up, and she made sure he got you all
patched up, she even rolled up her sleeve and donated her own blood, but he
says you'll be as good as new in a few weeks.  Now don't worry about the
Unit, we've got it covered, I have seconded sergeant Meyers, here, to fill
in, while we're short on personnel "he said pointing to Rachel, "While you
were still unconscious, Internal Affairs justified both shootings, by the
way." He continued.  "The pictures Montana took were excellent, and the
crime lab has printed and copied them.  Sgt.  Sacotta is suspended, pending
a full IA investigation.  The rest of the Russian mobsters were all rounded
up, the club had been shut down, the illegal sex workers will be sent back
to Russia after they testify, and we have confiscated almost fifty kilos of
pure cocaine.  The DA will not lay charges against any of the dancers as it
seems they were all, including Montana here, coerced into working there by
the late mister Randy Williams.  The Mayor has cited you for bravery, so
expect a visit from His Honor.  It must be close to an election, he's got
press has billing it as the biggest bust since, Organized Crime Unit
arrested Tony Soprano.  Oh, yeah, Dana and the kids will probably drop by
this evening."

   The day wore on, Sarah never leaving her side.  Indeed, His Honor the
Mayor as well as the Chief of Police made their appearances, promising the
Police Combat Cross and citations.  People Faith hardly remembered stopped
by to see how she was.  She was soon totally exhausted and fell asleep,
snoring softly, while Sarah watched over her.

   When she awoke she felt much better, the plastic drip above her head had
been removed and although her legs and arm were still painful she began
looking forward to going home.  During the night Rachel had brought her a
night gown as well as the usual toiletries, and make up.  She did not know
it was Sarah who changed her from the backless hospital issue bed-gown into
her own night-gown or bathed her.  She woke up to find Sarah brushing her
unruly coppery hair.

   "Hey, how're you feeling?" she asked while running the brush through her
hair.

   "Much better, have you been here the whole time?" she asked.

   "I've got nothing else to do right now, no work, no dancing, so yeah, I
stayed here." Sarah said.

   "Friday you offered me a table dance, remember?" Faith teased her.

   "Yeah and I said I'd let you go as far as you wanted." Came the
bantering reply.  "Now sit still I want to put your make up on."

   Sarah leaned over and skillfully spread a little foundation, especially
under her bruised looking eyes and brushed on some powder and blush, before
expertly applying a slight tint of brown-gold to her eyelids and penciled a
darker green eyeliner and finishing off with a subtle shade of coral lip
gloss.

   "There ya go, you look beautiful." She said, holding up a mirror.

   Faith hardly recognized the face staring back at her, Sarah had cleverly
made her up, disguising the ordinary and highlighting her best features, it
was a startling transformation.

   "See I told you, beautiful!" Sarah said.

   Faith admired her self, and her profiles, as Sarah held the mirror for
her.

   "Jeez, I'm going to phone you every time I have a special date, Sarah,
thank you." She said, clearly pleased with Sarah's efforts.

   "You can call me anytime you want, Lieutenant, I'll do anything you
ask." Sarah said softly, tears in her eyes.

   Dr Fabian chose that second to enter.  Dressed as before he approached
his patient, his stethoscope already plugged into his ears as he sat down
on the bed.  He listened again to her organs before removing the dressings
from her stitched wounds.

   "Ah no trace of any infection, you are looking much better, it must be
all this loving care and devotion, if you make progress like this and can
walk around by the time I do rounds, this afternoon" he said, slinging his
stethoscope back around his shoulders, "I can send you home in Ms Wallace's
care this afternoon.  If you both promise not to overdo anything.  You've
made remarkable progress, Lieutenant, I should use you as an advert." He
said laughing at his own joke.

   Faith realized she needed help the first time she used the bathroom. 
Sarah had helped her out of bed, and supported her as she shuffled forward.
Gingerly she settled herself on the toilet seat, letting gravity do most of
the work for her.  Without thinking, Sarah folded a handful of bathroom
tissue and gently wiped her backside, as she lurched unsteadily to her
feet. She threw the soiled wad into the bowl before kneeling and using
another wad to gently dab her pubic hair.  She looked up.  "There." She
said, still on her knees.  "All done." Sarah rose fluidly from her kneel
and helped Faith shuffle back to the bed.  She sat down, exhausted.

   The rest of the day Sarah chatted away, while they watched TV.  Sarah
began telling Faith about her childhood, growing up just outside of London,
not mentioning her downhill slide to finally ending up in the sewers of New
York.

   The Doctor was as good as his word.  Faith sat in a wheelchair and Sarah
a small case on her lap.  Sarah helped an orderly pushed her to the
entrance.  A cab took them to her apartment.  Sarah helped her into bed. 
The short trip wore her out and she was soon asleep.

   The following morning Faith woke up to the smell of frying bacon. 
"Sarah poked her head in the door, "You had nothing to eat last night, and
all I could find is bacon in your fridge, I slipped out and got some eggs
and stuff at the convenience store on the corner, how do you like your
eggs?

   Faith struggled to sit up.  "Sunny and runny." She smiled.

   A few minutes later, Sarah entered her room carrying a tray.  She
settled on a corner of the bed placing the tray on Faith's lap.  The plate
was heaped with bacon, fried eggs and toast, and a large glass of orange
juice, that she knew she never had in her fridge.  The bacon had been cut
into bite sized chunks.

   "You can try feeding yourself.  " Sarah said, placing a fork in Faith's
left hand.  "Or I can feed you, which'll be quicker and a lot less messy."
She grinned.

   Faith successfully guided the fork laden with bacon to her mouth; she
chewed, and stabbed at more bacon, but was totally inept at spearing the
toast or eggs.  Eventually she gave up, and let Sarah slice the toast and
the eggs and feed her.  When she was finished eating, Marnie held the glass
of juice to her lips and allowed her to sip and swallow at her own pace.

   "I used to feed my mom, like this." She said.

   I phoned the hospital and spoke to Dr Fabian, he says its okay to have a
shower, so when your ready, tell me and I'll get you set, I've got clean
dressings and ointment for your stitches, he says they are going to itch
like crazy, soon, and you better not scratch them out." She laughed.  "He
reminded me that you need to drink a lot of liquids."

   Sarah helped her out of bed and supported her as she hobbled to the
bathroom.  Like the time before, she knelt and expertly wiped her ass and
dabbed her pubic area, after Faith had relieved herself.  She gently
removed Faith's night gown, and peeled off the soiled dressings and turned
on the faucets.

   When Faith felt the water was right she stepped under the water. 
Sarah's hands were gentle; she rubbed soap where she could, her fingers
slid over Faith's wet skin, around and under her breasts, briefly touching
her nipples; and then her tummy, then her back and ass and with infinite
care, finally between her legs.  She used her finger tips to rub fragrant
shampoo that Faith had never seen before, into her hair.  Afterwards she
was rinsed off, and moisturizer was lightly rubbed in, before being rinsed
off again and buffed dry softly, with a large fluffy towel.  Sarah was
silent.  She applied new dressings and gave her, her medication before
helping Faith hobble back to the bedroom.

   Sarah seated her before the bedroom mirror and began brushing her wet
hair; she plugged the hair drier and began styling her unruly coppery hair.
She smiled and worked away.  She took a pair of scissors, and snipped away,
altering the austere style Faith habitually wore, she finished with a
flourish.

   "There you are, like it?" She asked.  Faith put down the glass of water
she had been sipping and was again amazed at the result.

   "What would you like to wear, a night dress again or normal clothes? 
Don't say jeans, It'll have to be a blouse and skirt I'm not going to pull
pants over your stitches, just yet." Sarah asked.

   Together they chose an oversize linen blouse and plaid `A-line' skirt,
from Faith's closet.  The cast on her arm made wearing a bra problematic,
and after a few attempts the bra was designated back to the drawer, she had
a little trouble pulling a pair of pink cotton bikini panties on followed
by the plaid skirt.  Once again Sarah applied Faith's make up, this time
she spent more time around the eyes, the effect was dramatic and altogether
she looked completely different, as she stared at herself in the mirror.

   Sarah moved Faith's sofa, making it easier for her to sit and watch the
TV. .  "I need to get you some groceries, there's almost nothing in the
fridge.  What do you normally live on, take-out?" She asked.

   Faith lay back on the sofa watching daytime television, sipping another
large glass of orange juice, while Sarah worked on a grocery list, until
either boredom or the meds kicked in and Faith began to snore softly. 
Sarah slipped lightly out of the apartment with her list.

   Filling the list took longer, mainly because Sarah wasn't used to the
supermarket near Faith's apartment.  She hurried up the stairs and unlocked
the door.  Faith was not asleep on the sofa.  She called out.  Faith
responded with a muffled cry from the bathroom.

   Sarah dropped the grocery bags and ran to find Faith crying with
frustration and shame in the bathroom.  "I couldn't pull my panties down in
time" she sobbed, lifting her skirt exposing sodden underwear, and rivulets
of urine that had run down her legs and soiled the dressings just below her
knees, and pooled on the bathroom floor.

   "Its okay, its okay, here let me fix it" Sarah said, pulling the sopping
wet panties down, and drawing them off one leg at a time.  Silently Faith
stood, her legs spaced widely apart while Sarah used a face cloth and warm
water to cleanse her thighs and legs and lavishing almost loving attention
on her genitals.  Finally she soaped the stitches, and dabbed them softly,
with medicated cream before applying clean dressings.

   "There, you're as good as new.  I never thought I'd be saying this,
Lieutenant, but until you can pull down your own underwear, you're not
wearing panties." She said smiling.  "Come on; let's get you back on the
sofa, what were you watching?" Sarah asked while helping Faith back into
the sitting room.

   "My, my, my, aren't you are very formal, for someone who has just
finished touching my pussy, and seen every inch of me naked and even wiped
my ass for me.  For about the tenth time Sarah, I'm Faith, remember?" Faith
said, staying in Sarah's personal space; so close they were almost touching
and feeling each other's warmth.  She brushed her hair away from her face
with her left hand, finally moving closer, when her subtle invitation
looked like it was being misread.

   The look on Sarah's face changed as she realized what Faith was offering
her, sunk in." I knew you are attracted to me, from the day you arrested
me! You are a lesbian, I knew it!  You are just like me, we disguise it
well.  But after all, it takes one to know one, right?" She said chuckling,
and letting her fingers linger and caressing Faith's back, sliding down to
her ass, using both hands, softly, very possessively, each orb stroked with
infinite intimacy.  Faith leaned forward, melting into Sarah's embrace.

   Their first kiss was interrupted by a knock on the door.  Sarah sprang
away, both girls blushing profusely and stumbling out of the small bathroom
as Rachel and Carrie came in over the strewn grocery bags carrying the
flowers and a sack of cards Faith had been given at the hospital.  It took
four trips before they were finished.  Faith's sitting room resembled and
smelled like a flower shop.

   Sarah boiled a kettle and prepared tea, she artfully placed the pot of
tea, a jug of milk and cubes of sugar, three cups on saucers, and a
matching plate of cookies, she had just bought, on a tray and put it on a
low table in the sitting room in front of Faith.  She retreated to the
bathroom and began mopping the floor, cleaning and tidying the bathroom,
while the three close friends sipped tea, and chatted softly, with Rachel
becoming extremely agitated.  Faith responding angrily, their voices
growing louder.

   Sarah caught some of what Rachel was saying.  "...I like her but she's a
fucking whore for God's sake!  Are you willing to sacrifice your career
over a goddamn hooker?" She hissed.

   Faith's reply was hot.  "Shut up, Ray!  I don't care...Yes I am!"

   "Carrie and I have guided you for 10 years for God's sake, have we ever
steered you wrong?" Rachel asked.

   "This is different." Came Faith's stubborn reply.

   "No its not, remember when you and that stunned cunt Celia Brady were in
each other's panties?  Look what a mess that was.  If Ray hadn't stuck her
neck out for you, you would have been suspended or fired.  You have to stay
away from dykes and addicts.  This one is both, and over and above that,
she's a prostitute, with a rap sheet.  Don't think with whats between your
legs, Faith.  I think you just can't help yourself when it comes to a
pretty piece of pussy." Carrie said, obviously siding with Rachel in the
heated argument.

   "You two didn't know Celia was an addict either Carrie.  And who
introduced me to her in the first place?  You and Ray!  So don't get all
`holier than thou' on me." Faith said, attacking from a different angle.

   Sarah grew red.  "You can't upset Faith, it's dangerous if her blood
pressure gets high.  I don't want to cause any trouble, its better if I
just leave." She said walking to the door.

   "Sarah please don't go.  Faith pleaded, before turning on her friends
like a viper and hissing.  "At the moment I don't want to even piss without
her.  If she walks out of here Rachel, I swear I'll never speak to either
of you again!" She lurched to her feet and shuffled to the door, grabbing
Sarah's arm with her left hand.

   "I don't want you to leave." She said softly looking into Sarah's eyes.
"Please stay, Ray and Carrie, are just leaving, aren't you?" she said
looking over her shoulder.

   It was Carrie who, being a lawyer, managed to calm both women down and
ease the situation.  She spoke softly to a flushed and angry Rachel. 
"Honey, this isn't the right time, or place, don't push it.  It's Faith's
choice.  Leave it be.  Shhhhhhh!  Listen to me." She said to her lover when
she tried to bluster.

   To Faith she said.  "You know Ray cares about you and we only wants to
help."

   Finally she spoke to Sarah.  "Ray is wrong, please, it's not her place
to tell Faith what to do, especially in her own house." She took Rachel's
hand, and squeezed it." Tell her!"

   Rachel considered being stubborn before gritting out.  "Sorry Sarah,
please stay, let's not go off half cocked here.  It's been my self
appointed job to look after Faith for so long, I guess it's strange for me
to see someone else, doing it."

   Carrie squeezed Rachel's hand tight, and kissed her.

   Faith was less forgiving.  "Get used to it Ray, she's here to stay."

   Faith allowed Sarah to help her back to the couch and pulled her down
beside her.  "This is where you'll find her, with me!"

   Sarah was red with embarrassment.  "Please Faith, don't stress out, you
can't allow your blood pressure to rise, you need to stay calm." She raised
Faith's cup to her lips and let Faith sip her tea.  "There drink your tea."

   Carrie and Rachel watched as Sarah helped Faith sip the brew.  Soon it
became apparent to them that the two women on the couch were oblivious to
everything but each other.  Without saying a word they left.

   Faith was staring into Sarah's eyes as the pretty peroxided blonde
steadied the cup at her lips, each swallow of tea was rushed.  Faith longed
for those articulate fingers to be on her skin.

   Sarah caresses Faith's cheek, her slender fingers trailing over Faith's
face and mouth, down along the soft sensitive skin of her neck, and then to
her breasts, gently massaging and teasing at the same time, each stroke
designed to please.  Faith was breathless, in Sarah's arms, their mouths
touched and opened simultaneously, their tongues drawing in each other's
essence.  Faith lay back as Sarah took control.  The sweet submission she
felt, was alien to her dominant nature.  When they kissed, it was a new
beginning for both of them.  Hungrily they went about exploring each
other's mouths with their tongues.  Their hands wandered over soft skin and
warm breasts, until they became breathless and intent, on taking their
lovemaking a stage further.

   Their petting became bolder, Faith began unbuttoning Sarah's blouse, who
succumbed briefly with intense desire, but finally denied herself, by
pressing Faith's breasts back with the palms of her hand.

   "No we mustn't, its still to dangerous, we must stop Faith." Sarah,
breathless, broke the tension.  "Shall I phone Dr.  Fabian and ask if you
can have an orgasm?" She giggled.

   Faith, thwarted and angry at Sarah's rejection, she was close to tears
until the lilt of Sarah's giggles broke the awkward moment and she laughed
out loud, and began to imitate the urbane surgeon "Gawd!  I can see his
face; I told you Miss Wallace, no shenanigans until her stitches are out."

   Sarah; grinned like a schoolgirl, melting Faith's heart.  Faith lifted
her right hand to Sarah's face, caressing her gently, her left hand she
used to keep Sarah's hands on her breasts.  "You've been so good to me."
She said softly.

   The afternoon melted into evening, Sarah's laughter and unusual sense of
humor kept Faith enthralled.  As evening drew closer, they sat close
together on the settee munching cookies and snacks while watching TV. 
Faith was astounded that Sarah could get the quizzes of `Wheel of Fortune'
way before her or the show's contestants.  Dinner was casually eaten from
convenient TV trays with Sarah cutting Faith's food into bite sized
portions, before eating her own.  Not long after they'd eaten, Faith became
drowsy, possibly from her medication or overexcitement from everything that
had happened during the afternoon.  Sarah helped her to bed.  She was
asleep, breathing evenly on her back, before Sarah had finished settling
the bedclothes.

   Sarah was woken, from a deep sleep on Faith's, not so comfortable for
sleeping on, couch.  She looked at her watch; she had been asleep for less
than an hour.  Faith was calling her from the bedroom.  She almost ran to
the bedroom, not even stopping to switch on any lights.

   "What is it, whats wrong?" She asked.

   "Why don't you want to sleep with me?" Faith asked in a small voice.

   "Because I'll ravish you." Sarah answered.

   "Maybe I want to be ravished." Faith's voice was soft.

   "Even if it kills you?" Sarah asked incredulously.

   "Yes, but what a way to go!" Was Faith's illogical answer.

   "You stop that!" Sarah ordered.

   "Then get into bed." Faith said, pulling Sarah to her.

   Faith slept comfortably in Sarah's arms, until dawn's rosy rays painted
Faith's white bedroom walls a cozy coral.

   Their good morning kiss was long and languid; they lay in each other's
arms until the sun was way over the horizon.  The room was filled with the
heady scent of female arousal.  Their kissing became intense and
breathless. With her arm in a cast, Faith clumsily slid on top of Sarah. 
Faith lowered her face to Sarah's stimulated nipples.  Each in turn was
rolled and tasted, Faith's inquisitive tongue probing each teat, licking
and teasing them into hot buds of passion.  Inelegantly, the cast making
her awkward, Faith slipped down, pressing Sarah's knees wide apart with her
feet, until she was crouching between Sarah's widespread knees.  She
lowered her head to the junction of Sarah's thighs, where the warmth and
aromatic scent of her arousal there, made any logical denials she might of
thought of, impossible.  Faith's mouth touched Sarah's already moistened
labia.  Sarah was in no condition to deny Faith anything, she offered her
everything.  Faith's mouth touched her swollen sex, instantly fragrant
moisture seeped from her vaginal walls.  Faith sucked thirstily, noisily
taking Sarah's perfumed offering with passion.  Her talented tongue delved
into every crease and fold, flicking and lapping while she murmured
noisily, exciting Sarah, titillating her in sweet deliberate torture by
avoiding Sarah's needy clitoris.  Eventually when her need became almost
feral, she gripped Faith by the hair and tried to steer her mouth onto her
desperate clit.  Faith's hair was almost pulled by the roots, Sarah was
frantic, her breathing labored and coming in gulps, her thighs heaved, she
thrust upwards uncaring, her eyes shut, her toes curled, her heart pumping
in time with the electrical darts of pure ecstasy that emanated from her
womb and traveled at lightning speed through every nerve.  Finally, when
Faith sensed Sarah was beyond everything but this sweet torture, her tongue
traced small tight circles around Sarah's hot rubbery little nugget,
lavishly she dragged her tongue over it, flicking the tip of her tongue
faster and faster, until finally Sarah could endure no more, and
capitulated to her orgasm.  Giving in with a passionate squeal, primal yet
ecstatic, she lay back, her chest heaving, her skin covered in
perspiration. Faith remained anchored in between Sarah's legs.

   Sarah's breathing returned to semi normal and the after glow of her
orgasm bloomed , she lay back, as Faith gently began kissing her inner
thighs, planting wet warm little kisses along her tendons, dragging her
tongue over her perspiration, almost cleansing her thighs.  Soon the
tension began to mount once again, this time however Faith refused to be
hurried.  Sarah was frantic, her head was moving side to side, she thrust
upwards, emptily, almost begging for another orgasm.  Faith willingly aided
her, this time she pressed two fingers into Sarah's cloying warmth,
stroking, in and out, with a steady slow rhythm, her tongue above her hand,
flicking up and down, then side to side, enrapturing Sarah, who began
thrusting hard onto Faith's face, her hands once more entangled in Faith's
matted red hair.  The second orgasm was not as intense as the first, it
rolled in from the base of her spine and radiated outwards as her limbs
stiffened, and her heart pounded.  Faith kept her fingers deep inside her
lover's pussy and whispered soft words of love, that she had never thought
of using before.  Sarah's heart rate began to normalize; she had to almost
drag Faith from between her legs by the hair.  Finally Faith relented and
snuggled alongside her.  They lay together in silence, looking and smiling
at one and other, their movements limited to soft caresses, they drifted
into that sublime slumber only lovers ever experience.