Tricia Marshall grinned as her lover's green eyes blazed with mock fury.
"I am not fat, Patricia Elizabeth Marshall! Take it back!" The blonde advanced with a pillow clutched in her small hands. The brunette was prepared for the swing and taking the full brunt of it, fell back onto the bed laughing. Chloe continued to hit her and straddling her hips, moved in for the kill.
"I guess since I'm so very fat, you won't want to make slow, hot, passionate love to me then, huh, T?" The blonde punctuated each word with an arousing rocking of her hips. Tricia groaned and pulled her close and in a swift move, switched their positions so she was on top.
Laughing softly, she whispered against the delicate ear, "Oh, I don't know, I kinda like my women chubby." She nipped the earlobe and closed her eyes as the blonde ground her hips up with a whimper.
"I am not chubby. I'm volumptous and don't you forget it!" The blonde teased. The small muscular woman was far from either but was enjoying the foreplay too much to take any offense at her lover's teasing. She felt herself get swept away by Tricia's love.
Later, they lay in each other's arms, not ready to start the day. With deep regret, Tricia silenced the alarm that quite loudly stated that it was time to get moving. She looked at the calendar and groaned. They had to go get their annual shots for the flu. She gently shook the dozing blonde and got a snore for a reply. The smile turned the corner of her mouth as the blonde merely snuggled closer. "C'mon, Baby...Dr. Jacobs won't wait for us this time...it's flu season and you know we'll wait forever if we don't get there soon."
The blonde murmured something grumpily and slowly but surely pulled away from Tricia and sat up rubbing her eyes. She rolled to her left and stomped over to the bathroom. Tricia grinned as she heard the shower run. She slipped out of bed and walked into the bathroom after Chloe. The loud laughing shout from Chloe announced that the brunette had joined her in the shower.
The waiting room was full, with only one chair left available. Twenty kids with sniffles and coughs sat miserably around the dank, pristine room. Several adults were there as well, one man with torn jeans was flipping through a swimsuit magazine, trying not to choke. Another man dressed in a business suit sat to Tricia's right, playing with his cellular phone and glancing at his watch. Nice watch. Tricia thought. The loud buzz of the cell phone ringing startled the other occupants of the room. Some glared and others looked away disinterested with the man and his phone call.
"Hello? Yeah I am. Of course, I'll be careful. What am I? An idiot? Oh, thanks for the vote of confidence, Jerry. It'll be fine, stop worrying, you'll irritate your ulcer. Yeah. Uh-huh. I understand. I realize this is important. I know. I know. Yeah, stop it and get back as soon as possible. I know, Jerry. Uh-huh. Yeah, well tell Armstrong I got it under control. Everything is under control. I promise. yeah. See you later. Cool. Bye."
Marcus noticed the tall brunette and her friend eyeing him as he took the call. He noted the disinterest on the blonde's face. He saw the brunette whisper something in the blonde's ear and saw her nod. She looked at his arm. He blinked in confusion. Did they know? Were they here to stop him? Was the FBI behind this? Were they plants? No, damn it, Marc, chill, it's cool. Just pretend like business is business. He smiled politely at the pair and was relieved as they smiled back just as politely. He shook his head. Stop being paranoid.
"Marcus Jamieson?" The burly nurse called.
Marc looked up at the male nurse and stood, grateful to be away from the piercing eyes of the tall dark haired woman. He felt a weird connection with her and it terrified the bejesus out of him. He followed the older man into the equally dank and pristine office. The smell of alcohol and cotton slammed into his nose. He took a steadying breath. It's all for mankind, the greater good. Oh, God, what have I gotten myself into? He gulped nervously as the nurse instructed him to the scale. He stepped on.
Tricia glanced at Chloe and smiled as the blonde woman looked over at her. She opened her mouth to speak as another nurse creaked the waiting room door open.
"Patricia Marshall? Chole Janson?"
They followed the tall willowly redhead back into the medicinal smelling office. Chloe grimaced as her nose adjusted to the smell. Tricia let Chloe go first and soon enough they were in a room awaiting the good doctor. A polite knock sounded on the door and they glanced up in surprise at the man from the waiting room. The suit coughed nervously and he allowed a small apologetic grin to grace the hard planes of his face.
"Hello, ladies, I um...I wondered if it would be possible to exchange rooms. I know it sounds weird but your's is closer to the men's restroom and I think if we were to inform the nurses they'd help us out. I.." the poor man stammered as he stressed the fact that their room was closest to the men's room. And Chloe took some pity on him.
"Sure, no problem...right, T?" She looked over at the brunette for her answer.
"Uh, hey yeah, no problem." The brunette looked at the blonde in some consternation.
They picked up their things and settled into the room in which he had vacated. Soon yet another nurse wandered in and explained that everything was in order and that the doctor was a bit late. He readied two vaccines and stepped out for a short time and came back.
"Ok, first victim." He smiled gently at the ladies as he held up the first injection.
Marcus washed his hands and peered at his reflection in the mirror. Damn, when had those wrinkles developed? He sighed and run his still wet hands over his face, gettting some stray hairs damp in the process. He turned and grabbed the cup of urine the doctor had requested and unlocked the bathroom door, after checking to ensure he had zipped up. He walked back to the room he had recently vacated and smiled at the pretty redheaded nurse who stood there.
"Hello, Mr. Janson, ready for your allergy shot?" He looked at her in some confusion. Janson? Allergy shot? What?
"Uh, no, I'm afraid you've gotten me mixed up with someone else. My last name's Jamieson, not Janson. And
I'm here for the injection of Himatonion. Doctor Argonat will attest to that." He smiled politely waiting for the nurse to correct the mistake. Her pallor took on a white pasty look.
"Oh, my God!" She cried and rushed out. Marc followed her out the door and catching up, spun her around.
"What? Where is my Himatonion? Where's Doctor A? What's going on?" He was hit hard by a realization. The women who were in his room! He felt a jolt of intense fear snake up his spine. "Oh, shit! You didn't give them the..my...Holy fucking Christ! That's a top secret chemical, lady! In the wrong hands, it'll...oh, God knows what'll become of those poor girls! Oh, Jesus!" He ripped out his phone and started speed dialing.
"Jerry, I realize that! My balls are in a sling, Man! Oh, what am I supposed to do Jerry? I can't very well follow them. I have no fucking clue where they are! Oh, yeah well I guess I should have taped a tracking device to one of their asses, huh? Damn it! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!" He kicked over the wastebasket in his angry disbelief.
Tricia didn't know what hit her first. The intense feeling of floating or the weird illusion of her lover fading in and out. "Chloe?" Even her voice sounded distorted, like she was hearing an echo. She reached out her hand and grasped her lover's ina tight grip. The pleasurable feelings swept through her over and over again. Chloe had her eyes closed and was pulling Tricia closer by the minute. All of a sudden, like the twister scene in The Wizard of Oz, they stopped and fell, hard.
"Ow!" they both cried as limbs collided painfully. Tricia recovered first and she looked up at Chloe who was...not Chloe!
"What in the hell?" Tricia stammered. She was looking into the same soulful eyes of her lover except the woman above her was in a tie-dyed shirt with beads hanging around her neck and with John Lennon glasses perched on her nose. The blonde reacted in fear as she saw Tricia was not herself. Then she gasped as the deep blue eyes of her lover stared back at her. "Trish? Honey?" She looked at the bearded man below her and shook her head, trying to clear the vision.
Tricia put her hand up to her throat as her voice sounded raspy and distinctively male. She gave the blonde a look of pure alarm and struggled to get up. She or should I say he, stared slack-jawed at the mirror.
"Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh my fucking God! Look at me!" her slender yet muscular hands rubbed over bearded cheeks in horrified fascination. Her lover was every bit as fascinated but staring in wonder more than horror. Chloe lifted the beads and fingered them in shock.
"Um...I look like I'm ready for Halloween." She tried to joke to cover up her inability to bring logic to this situation. She looked up at Tricia and would have laughed if she hadn't been so terrified.
"What are you doing?" She demanded.
"Checking to make sure I'll find what I think I will." Her lover answered, her pants unzipped and shoved around her ankles. "Oh, yeah. Gross." Shivering, Tricia zipped back up.
"What's this?" Chloe asked out loud, grabbing a necklace that hung around Tricia's neck. They both stared at the shiny round emblem hanging of the simple siver chain. Tricia gulped and turned it over. Federal Bureau of Investigation it boldly read.
"Holy fuck." Tricia whispered. She stared intently at the date on the emblem. "Tell me that doesn't say that. Please tell me it doesn't say that." She pleaded and Chloe looked up with scared eyes. "It does, Baby. It says 1963."
"Oh, shit." |
