In life there are people that live to question until they name, catalogue, and categorize everyone that crosses their path. Boots St. Clair was one such individual. Once everything is wrapped up in a box with a pretty bow of judgment everything in her life makes sense again. She liked the control of knowing and choking everything outside of her box into submission. Behind her back people called her anal perhaps even zealot to her principle. Though they weren't savvy to the bliss and clarity cataloguing and categorizing brought. If they did she was certain that they wouldn't be so quick to dismiss her as a flippant snob. The chilly day in January brought her back to the reality that prompted her contemplation. She stood outside talking with three of her sorority sisters. It was another year and they would have to start looking at potential candidates to initiate. It always helped to do homework early in the year to get the finest caliber of members.

They were discussing an heiress of an oil empire accepted as a transfer student when Dahlia Monnahan interrupted with a flyer she retrieved from her blue knit satchel.

"Off campus party ladies, a must attend," she waved the immaculately kept flyer in their faces.

"Who'll be there?" Boots asked. In her mind it was never 'must attend' if the right people weren't attending.

"Lennox, Graham, Trap…" the exuberant blonde began noting off the lacrosse team. Players who it was common knowledge she found attractive. They were all featured in her book of potential life mates alongside ratings and family history. Diane lived in her head where numbers and reasoning usually brought favorable statistics. The other two girls seemed excited at the thought of going out surrounded by drunken jocks. Boots wasn't as excited to be accidently groped or to have another blouse ruined so someone could suggest they go in the back room and clean up. Though, being the leader required some flexibility. If Boots were a total stick in the mud they wouldn't be as quick to follow her commands. When Diane had listed off all the names of why they should attend she looked beseechingly to Boots. The brunette pursed her lips for affect even though she knew the answer to be favorable to attending.

"Fine," she answered causing Diane to clap excitedly wrinkling the flyer already crumpled under her desperate grip. Her father was a mathematician, a tightly wound one at that. Diane had exercised her freedom, as much as she would dare, by immersing herself into communal living.

Classes had started in earnest, but there was still much of the year to be concerned with studying. The rest of the day would be spent getting ready for the party. It started at nine, but it wouldn't really start until eleven, one of the few rules one discovers at college. Boots took the lead prattling on about wardrobe, makeup, and a complimentary sweater to fight off the evening chill. The other girls listened with their own suggestions in the back of their heads never to spoken a loud, or not until Boots was finished.

Jo hated to stand still. She hated it with a passion. When Blair asked her if she would pose for her still life drawing class she had said yes. What happened to the early days where it was easier to blow the blonde off with no? Wherever they had gone Jo missed them desperately. It was day of and she contemplated her ability to actually stand still. She'd passed by the drawing class on her way to class. Looking through the windows the school chose in place of wooden walls. The room was a mess of organized chaos. Charcoal, paint, and paper filled the ceiling high cubicles with other art materials Jo didn't recognize. Blair had one request for Jo to bring something that said Jo. She circled the school moving to the back entrance where the art building was. She maneuvered the bike on the sidewalk smiling at the curious glances of collegiate passerby. The art teacher said he would leave the door open for her to ride through. He hadn't disappointed. When she informed him what she would bring to pose with he had no objections. The class erupted in amusement as she rolled the bike to the big x where models were to stand.

Blair eyes widened when she saw her best friend riding in as carelessly as she had run over their mentors' flowerbed in the early years of Eastland. Shaking off the nostalgia she stared at her friend and then her pad wondering if she wanted to do a landscape or portrait.

"The friends that you have Warner," a red head Drama major named Lenny leaned in grinning.

The blonde heiress shrugged, she was use to Jo's antics, but she liked that her classmate seemed impressed. It was hard not to be drawn to Jo even if they only occasionally got along. Jo decided to wear her black Peacoat opened with dark blue jeans and distressed black boots. Underneath the coat she wore a gray thermal with the top two buttons undone. Her hair hung to her shoulders. After she was instructed to relax into a pose that she could hold comfortably for thirty minutes students moved around positioning themselves and their pads in ideal vantage points.

"Where've you been hiding her, she's beautiful," Louisa, one of her classmates, asked as she settled near Blair. The blonde was use to her overt appreciation of the men and women that posed for the class. The smile of intrigue in Louisa's eyes left her even prouder of her choice for the class assignment. From a lack of volunteers the teacher proposed that they bring in subjects. They were only asked to come as they perceived themselves. That could involve a prop or clothing or a pose.

There was no questioning that Jo was an attractive woman. She had a demanding presence it was that same presence that everyone tried foolishly to emulate on paper. Her eyes stared at nothing in particular as she heard pencils scratching the surface of the paper. The room was silent accept for those sounds and the occasional suggestion made by the instructor. He pointed out lighting and angle and features of Jo that were pivotal to capturing the essence of the rider.

Jo felt all the eyes on her. She wasn't one for stage fright, but being the center of attention was Blair's thing not hers. Her thoughts veered to a distraction. She'd been invited by a buddy of hers on the lacrosse team. The host was a cute behavioral science major named Madeline. She wondered briefly if Blair would be going, but outside of living under Ms. G. roof and bumping into each other in happenstance at school they rarely saw each other. Blair had chosen to sit in front of Jo at an angle where it was still easy for her to see her. Jo wondered what she saw in her that made her ask Jo to pose for her. In thirty minute intervals she posed and they sketched for the remainder of the class. After the second thirty minutes she stretched longer than she had the first while she heard papers being moved for blank pages. Posing had sounded so easy, perhaps too easy. Her body was becoming accustomed to each pose and stretching was an orgasmic chore.

Boots wasn't disappointed about her expectations of the party. She was disappointed when a cup of liquor was accidentally on purpose splashed on her. She had ditched her friends fifteen minutes in the party. She didn't want to appear needy. Acknowledging classmates it wouldn't hurt her reputation to speak to and ignoring the ones that would, she moved throughout the room strategically. She heard a crowd of people betting on a game of 'who can hit the piñata drunk as a skunk?' To measure the stupidity of drunks would be as impossible an endeavor as counting stars. She had compromised and allowed herself to be roped into a den of degenerates.

She'd been sitting down minding her own business when she fell victim to the purposeful clumsiness of a horny partygoer. She moved to walk away but he gripped her arm. She slapped him indignantly and in moments it seemed the glaze in his eyes had sobered to rage. She opened her mouth to apologize, but only a wince of pain escaped. They were in a room of people and were they all blind to Boots distress? Obviously, she answered in her head. And as he began pulling her she realized how big a hindrance fear was.

"Chalk!" a hand gripped the hand that held on to Boots arm. The dark eyes moved to the drunken brunette interrupting. "I told that guy over there," Jo pointed to a blonde haired bearded man standing near a keg. "I bet 'em ten bucks that it's possible to drink upside down blindfolded and bust that piñata." She pointed to said piñata and Boots had to wonder, not for the first time, why she had come out at all tonight.

Chalk looked at Jo then Boots and the swinging piñata. "Easiest ten bucks you'll make tonight Jo." He let go of his grip and moved toward the small crowd that had milled around with news of the bet.

"Good man," she smiled hitting him on the back with one hand while the other had a tight grip on Boots. "Are you ok?" she pulled the annoying woman away from the growing crowd. The slur in her words had been replaced by sober articulation.

Boots pulled away, "fine, I could have handled him," she stuck her chest out refusing to admit she needed help from someone like Jo.

"Yea, it looked handled," she grabbed a beer from the cooler in the kitchen. Jo was a moderate drinker. She'd been around enough drunks and addicts to learn the prudence of moderation.

"Did you come here with someone?" she didn't like Boots. But the idea of leaving her alone to be cornered by Chalk or anyone else left her uneasy.

"Yes, but I haven't seen them since we arrived." Jo hadn't intended to spend the evening babysitting. "This doesn't look like your type of scene."

"It's funny I was thinking you looked right at home," the woman held herself against the refrigerator glaring at the drunken classmates, most were upperclassman. She noticed a few stragglers that looked to be underage. Jo watched her silently judge. Boots wasn't the easiest woman to get along with, but she didn't deserve to be left at a party with no one to watch her back. At least Jo repeated the thought in her head before she succumbed to her urge to walked away. Boots turned her head and glared, "what?"

Jo shook her head while taking a swig of her drink. "Boots," the hostess came in with the meaty hand of the same lacrosse player Jo came with one her hip. Jo steeled her face to the scene. She had had a crush on Madeline since the semester started. Her blonde hair her brown eyes the dimple in her cheek when she smiled. She hadn't even talked to her outside of a passing greeting. She had no claim to the woman, but the sinking feeling in her stomach was reflex. "You and Chalk were looking cozy." A blind man could see that Boots had been uncomfortable. And if she had seen the exchange why hadn't she stepped in to intervene?

Pushing off the refrigerator Boots smiled curtly, "Five seconds from my foot up his ass doesn't sound too cozy," Jo interrupted.

Madeline finally met her gaze. Boots didn't even whip her head around to glare. "I wouldn't want to step in the pool of the only kind of men you can get." Corbin came up for air at that comment feeling Madeline stiffen. Backing away he grabbed the beer Jo offered him.

"Having fun?" he smiled smugly.

"Loads," she placed a smile she didn't feel on her face.

Corbin was an army brat. If he knew how to talk to people he didn't show it. He was blunt, perhaps too much for most people to take, that's why Jo liked him. He reminded her of almost everyone that compromised her neighborhood. He was more polished than anyone on her street, but still he made her feel nostalgic.

When Corbin noticed Jo spending more time than necessary admiring the blouse of an underclassman in the quad, his mission began. A single blush was all it took for Corbin to confirm rumors and his own suspicions. Why would Jo blush if she hadn't felt guilty about being caught? Where'd the guilt come from? She remembered the conversation after she'd been caught. He'd said she was hot. Jo ignored his gaze shrugging. She offered him indifference rather than confess more than she was comfortable with.

"I give her a seven," he shouldered Jo pointing out a dark haired girl with glasses and a sweater hanging over her shoulders. She was attractive. "What do you think?" she remembered him persisting.

Jo took a good look at the woman shaded by branches hanging low from a tree. Jo recognized her from the gym. She didn't know her name, but underneath her clothes was slim toned body that had just enough curve not to be dull. Corbin had smiled at her response and her why and from then on it had become their game. She hadn't admitted anything for now it was a joke. Every girl had their rating. Although, it became clear to Jo that with any woman she gave a decent score or a second glance Corbin doubled efforts to claim her, hence slobbering over Madeline. Jo had made the mistake of awkwardly declining a study group invitation by their hostess. She assumed he saw something that she had intended for him to.

"Boots St. Clair," he tilted his head checking her out. "I suppose it could be fun find out where exactly she keeps that stick that's got her high strung."

A rupture of beer splattered everything near Jo on the island they were leaning on and Jo herself. The two women in front of them turned in their direction. Jo wiped at her mouth. "Wrong pipe," she offered sheepishly.

Corbin had already forgotten about Madeline. Jo could see it. Madeline saw it as well when he volunteered to take Boots home when she announced she was leaving. Jo grew excited by the thought of having Madeline to herself. She could even ignore the bubbles of slobber Corbin had left on her neck. She was glad to be rid of Boots and Corbin two birds one stone and all that. When Boots declined and stated Jo would take her home her dreams came crashing.

"You sure you don't want a nice strong man to see you home?" Jo was practically wrapping him in a bow for her.

She took one more look at him, as if considering him to be a better choice, but she made her decision. "That's why you're taking me Jo," she stated. Corbin's eyes narrowed as he looked at a dumbfounded Jo slapping her on the back triumphantly. Shaking her head she followed Boots not sparing the pair a second look. She followed Boots who moved through the throng of people uneasily. She caught her by her waist when she lost her balance and fell backward. "Come on," Jo leaned into her ear, "follow me." Jo took the lead maneuvering through the crowd with a little more grace than the heiress had. When rooms were filled passed capacity at her house parties in the Bronx, one picked up things.

Outside there was still a crowd, but as they moved closer to the cars the groups became small numbers of people taking a break from the noise. The night air brought a comfortable chill. Pushing her hands in the pockets of her coat she noticed Boots holding herself.

"Are you ok?"

Boots stopped in her tracks causing Jo to barrel into her. "What's that supposed to mean?" she didn't give Jo time to answer. "Just because I didn't grow up in some barrio doesn't mean I can't handle myself against dumb jocks and inconsequential cheerleaders."

Jo's brows rose, "I'm polish, and I was asking if you were cold," she clarified.

Turning on her heel Boots shook her head and moved toward the edge of where all the cars were parked. "Where am I going?" she asked not knowing which vehicle to walk towards. Jo walked passed her and collected the two helmets on the back end of her bike.

"What's that?"

Jo turned toward the woman. "It's a bike," she strapped on her helmet and handed the spare Blair usually wore to Boots.

"Is it safe?" she fingered the strap of the helmet.

"I'm still alive," Jo pitched getting on.

"You've been drinking."

"And if I were ten pounds lighter and a freshman then you'd have to worry." Boots took one step backward. Jo was done with the party and people in general for one night. She would leave with or without Boots. She preferred with, but she wasn't opposed to heading home without the detour. Boots looked to the house then at the back of one of her not so favorite people. She could see that Jo wasn't happy with the arrangement anymore than she was. She was determined not to go back inside and ask for a ride, not from Corbin. Jo would have to do. The brunette settled on the back of the bike her skirt draped the bike luckily it wasn't too long to get caught on the machinery.

"Go slow," she demanded.

Jo rolled her eyes. Boots wrapped her hands loosely around Jo's waist. "Tighter," Jo ordered, "Not unless you wanna fly off." Boots corrected the pressure. Jo started the bike moving slowly. She had had a few beers, but only enough to get a nice buzz to last her until she went to bed. She took precaution with her passenger in mind adhering to the speed limit.

On the back of the bike, when Boots finally let go of imagining all the ways Jo could crash them into a railing and end both their lives, she began to enjoy the ride. Jo's scent wasn't unappealing and air whipping around them was calming. She smiled to herself wondering why it hadn't occurred to her to ride a bike before this. She knew why. Because no one expected it of her least of all her mother, who would kill her if she knew. When Jo parked the bike at the curb of the sorority house she dismounted the machine. Jo turned to her waiting to hear how this was the most horrible experience of her life. Though, Boots would never admit that it was quite the opposite.

"Thank you even though I saw my life flash before my eyes every turn you took."

"Glad I could make you feel alive."

Boots shoved the helmet unceremoniously against Jo's chest causing the other woman to wince. "Night," she offered chipper. Jo watched her until the door of the house shut with her safely inside.

"Night."

Edna Garret didn't like the idea of the girls not coming home at a decent hour. Jo and Blair had more leeway because they were older and in college. She had been that young despite the girl's insistence that she had always been old and wise. The younger girls lived vicariously through Blair and Jo. They needed to be more careful impressing on the Natalie and Tootie the priorities of college. She could hear Jo moving around in the kitchen when she arrived. She had found her cookie thief. None of the girls had admitted in dipping into the cookie stash, but ten to one Jo would be holding a white chocolate cookie.

"Where have you been?" she asked from her seat on the couch when Jo had come through the kitchen entrance holding a cookie.

Halting on the first step she turned sharply, "you scared the crap outta me Mrs. G," Jo held the cookie to her chest. Her heart pounded hard from being startled. The woman stood up turning on the lamp by the couch holding her hands together in front of her. Jo knew that stance well. It was the admonishing stance.

"I know you're an adult now Jo, but there are still rules that I want abided in my home."

The brunette rubbed the back of her neck. She really wanted to take a bite of her cookie, but she didn't feel as if Mrs. G would appreciate her focusing on her stomach.

"I know 'no cookies after eleven', but Mrs. G," Jo held up the cookie, "have you ever tasted one of your cookies?"

"Having you been drinking?" the older woman asked. Jo was of legal age to drink. Drinking and driving was irresponsible no matter the age. She taught her girls better than that.

"I had two beers. Nothing to impair my judgment driving," she thought it wise to leave out the part about Boots. It wouldn't help matters for the woman to know that Jo had had someone on the bike with her. The older woman pursued her lips in disapproval, "I won't do it again Mrs. G, I promise." She jumped from the last step to plant a kiss on her cheek before sprinting off to bed as quietly as possible.

Jo was Edna's wild child. Jo was predictably unpredictable. She kept her on her toes, but sometimes she worried about her. Jo had assimilated well, but where would she really belong when she left to the real world. How would she make her way? The twenties were a confusing time. Still dependant, but striving to exert independence, in truth she worried for all of the girls, but Jo was a special case. She cared more than she let others believe she did. Too many disappointments had made her just as vulnerable as they did defensive. Jo was loyal to the point of lunacy of jumping into an immature marriage. She was distrustful to the point of idiocy, slamming her fist in her friends face when she felt slighted. However many mistakes she made in the past she matured and learned from them. Edna gave her that much credit. Though, Jo was still special in every way a person with an exceptional heart is, despite the hardships of her past.

"Wow Blair this is beautiful," Tootie admired the drawing of Jo on her bike. Natalie came around with a bowl of cereal to lean over Tootie's shoulder. She shook her head in approval since her mouth was full.

"Talent just makes things work out that way," she noted leaning one hand on her hip while the other leaned on the table taking a cursory look over her sketches.

"Whoever accused you of talent Blair?" Boots walked in with Mrs. Garret. Jo who had made it a point to ignore all of them behind the comfort of a book lowered it.

"Boots what do we owe this surprise? Are you lost, I'd be glad to show you the door," Blair offered looking up from her work.

Undaunted Boots answered with zeal, "Mrs. Garret volunteered to cater a shindig that our sorority is hosting for the homeless. Of course I want the bill for materials and time." She stepped over to the couch that Jo took up with her whole form. She held a tablet to her chest with her purse on her arm and cleared her throat. Waiting for Jo to take the hint the rest of the room was curious as to what Jo would do. After a few moments of indecision the bright blue socks were sliding back to make room for Boots to sit. Jo didn't move from reading her book. She decided to ignore the questioning looks she felt targeted at her.

"Well this is an itinerary that I have sectioned for the day of the event. I have everything color coded just in case there's some confusion. And I have a model for what each color stands for just in case it gets a little complicated for you."

"How helpful," Tootie offered slowly picking up the tablet loosely.

The brunette perked up needlessly, "I know," she stated, "I live to help."

"Could you quiet down mother Theresa I'm trying to read," Jo glared never lifting her head from her book.

Boot acknowledged Jo for the first time since she arrived. "Oh, Jo I hadn't even realized you were in the room. I'm so use to you stomping around ready to bash someone over the head with a two by four."

Jo slowly lowered her book. "The two by fours been collecting dust, but I can take it out of retirement if you miss it so much."

"I wouldn't want you making a fuss over little ole me. Especially since you're spending so much of your energy on that book—not enough pictures for you?"

Jo move to sit up, but Boots rose before Jo could make a move towards her. "You can just leave the tablet here Boots and the girls and I can look over it."

The bouncy brunette lifted her eyes from Jo and gave the adopted matriarch a winning smile stating that there were errands that needed her immediate attention. "Toodles," she waved frivolously.

"These homeless sure do have some expensive taste," Natalie noted as she read off the list in her head. Tootie shook her head agreeing with Natalie.

"Well we'll just have to look over it and if changes need to be made we'll make them." Edna placed on her glasses, she moved to the kitchen Natalie and Tootie followed to help.

Jo returned to her book. Blair plucked through her book sending curious glances Jo's way. They played the silent game until Blair couldn't continue to be disinterested in Boots and Jo's exchange.

"So….Boots huh?"

"Boots what?" Jo turned the page of her book.

"You're trading quips. Pretty soon you'll be calling her your best friend and not me."

Jo frowned meeting Blair's imploring gaze. "Since when are you touchy about me insulting Boots."

"I'm not," Blair walked around the chair picking up a snow globe Tootie had brought down to play with.

"Ok," Jo let it go looking at her book, but not reading the words. Blair slammed the globe down behind Jo on the table and stormed up the stairs like a child. Looking up from her book she wondered why she was friends with such a complicated woman. What about her exchange with Boots would make her feel threatened. Sure they traded insults, but it wasn't as if Blair had a copyright to who Jo could insult.

The phone rang. Grabbing the phone off the hook she dropped her book in her back leaning further into the comfort of the chair. "Hello."

Corbin was on the other end. She rolled her eyes when he began to share how good his night had gone with Madeline. Whatever feelings she thought she might have had for the blonde were shattered by the details of Corbin's encounter. She could ask him to be less explicit, but that would only feed in his disturbing need to make people feel uncomfortable. He said that they were going out tonight. There was no question just an assumption that Jo would come out and play. With the exception of being an intolerable ass Corbin wasn't all that bad underneath the surface. She knew that he went after the woman she appreciated because he wanted to hear it. He knew the answer, but he wanted her to say the words. What he didn't realize was she hadn't even admitted that answer to aloud to her yet. Judgment mattered most when it came to the family that she'd made out of her roommates and their caretaker. A knock at the door gave her an excuse to end the call early.

"Be ready at nine," Jo heard him say hurriedly before she returned the phone to the hook. Dragging herself off of the couch she opened the door to a smiling brunette.

"You forget something?" Jo asked her hand on the knob with her shoulder leaning on the door.

"Thank you."

Jo frowned, "for?"

"The other night," Boots offered vaguely. Jo still wanted to hear the words even though they both knew what she meant.

"I can see this is hard for you," Jo started, "is the thank you for rescuing you from Godzilla or for giving you a ride home?"

"Both."

Jo didn't know where the bravado came from least of all with Boots. Perhaps Corbin had hit a nerve, or maybe she was a glutton for punishment. In any case the words came out before her reason could censor her. "Is this the part where the damsel rewards her hero?" Boots reached in for her checkbook making Jo frown, she grabbed the hand that held the pen before she could scribble a price. "That's not what I meant." Jo tugged on the hand pushing it down.

"Then what?" Boots seemed genuinely confused.

Moving the hand into her pocket she shrugged, "nothing. You're welcome." Jo kicked herself for her indecision.

"Oh ok," the other woman looked equally contrite. Boots stood in the doorway and Jo holding the door uncomfortably.

"Was there something else?" Jo finally queried.

"No," she clipped turning just as abruptly.

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Something that was on my mind….not sure if I'll continue or not just wanted to take some different characters out for a ride.