iForget Where I Am

Wendy awoke the next morning, not immediately aware of where she was. Her eyes came into focus and she realized her lips were stuck to Shelby's bare shoulder. She mumbled sleepily into the fighter's flesh.

"Go back to sleep, Sweety, it's early…"

Wendy was more awake now, though still fuzzy about everything that had happened the night before. She nervously asked the only question that her mind would allow.

"Uh… we didn't… did we?"

Wendy could sense laughter in Shelby's sleepy voice.

"No such luck, Little Red… you really don't remember, do you?"

Wendy was still clueless, but she felt safe. There was a softness to the fighter's voice that said Shelby Marx would never hurt her in any way whatsoever. She yawned softly into the fighter's shoulder and drifted off again.

A SHORT WHILE LATER…

Wendy stirred, stretched, and finally woke.

Shelby smiled at her from across the room, half-dressed.

"Rise and shine, little red sleepyhead…"

Wendy smirked. She couldn't help herself. Shelby Marx was right there, maybe ten feet away, wearing jeans that hung low and loose on her waist, plus a black sports bra. She felt that warm, fuzzy, electric feeling, turning itself over and over again in her stomach. Wendy knew now that Shelby Marx was, for her, far more than some silly, queer schoolgirl fixation. For a while, Wendy had gawked at, and nearly drooled over Sam Puckett, but it didn't feel the same. Sure, Sam was her friend, and as gorgeous as she was, Wendy knew, in her heart of hearts, that it would never work.

"Wendy?"

"Yeah?"

"Dang, girl, you were like a million miles away…"

Wendy Miller flushed. Instantly, her brain clicked. She freaked out.

"Dammit! I need to call…"

Shelby laughed.

"Relax, I already called them last night. They knew you were here… it's cool…"

Wendy went slack-jawed. Shelby read her mind.

"Chillax… your mom's cool… now, come're…"

Wendy wasn't thinking. She felt drawn to Shelby on a subconscious, almost visceral level. She ran to the muscular woman, demanding to be held. Shelby was safe.

Shelby Marx held her close. She could tell that Wendy needed some emotional reassurance, after their misunderstanding last night. She drew Wendy to her and kissed her gently on the mouth, not caring that she was only partially dressed. She spoke in a whisper.

"Wendy…"

The redhead only blinked.

"Remember what I told you last night?"

She felt like a little girl, safe in Shelby's embrace. The fighter's muscles pressed against Wendy's stomach. She felt all whipped up, but in that good way. She smiled.

"Yeah… You and me…"

Shelby massaged Wendy's lower back, never once breaking their embrace. She whispered to the redhead.

"That's right… You and me. I… Wendy… you just… you make my life feel right…"

Wendy simply let herself be held. This felt like a dream. Shelby Marx was holding her. She felt like time was standing still.

LATER THAT AFTERNOON, AT WENDY'S…

Wendy lay across the sofa, her head in Shelby's lap. Her mother didn't quite know how to feel about this.

"Wendy Sue…"

"Sorry, Mommy, she just makes a good pillow…"

Wendy's mother believed her, but the image of her daughter using Shelby Marx's lap as a pillow was a little awkward. Shelby felt the need to interject.

"Ma'am, I want you to know how much I appreciate your support of Wendy and I…"

Mrs. Miller knew.

"It's okay, dear… She's my daughter. If you make her happy, then that's all there is to it. It's very much apparent how you feel for her… I just ask that you two don't…"

Shelby interrupted.

"Oh, of course not. Neither of us are even thinking along those lines…"

Wendy was bright red.

"Mom! God, I think I might just die!"

Shelby stroked her long red hair.

"No, you won't…"

Wendy's mother let her own uneasiness subside. She could tell that her daughter was capable of choosing wisely. She wasn't a little girl anymore.

Mrs. Miller got to her feet and returned to the kitchen.

"I presume you're staying for dinner, Miss Marx?"

"Ma'am, that isn't necessary…"

"Chicken Marsala…"

That did it. Shelby was sold.

AFTER DINNER…

Shelby was amazed. Wendy's mother was truly an amazing cook. She hadn't even begun to savor the meal she'd just eaten before Wendy was dragging her down the hall towards her bedroom. The door shut behind them. Shelby's world was still spinning.

"Wendy, what gives?"

The redhead simply kissed her. She finally felt comfortable enough with herself, Shelby, and everything that had transpired to this point to give in to her most basal desires. She broke the kiss and looked Shelby in the eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself…"

"Did ya hear me complaining?"

The body language told Wendy everything in the world that she needed to know. Shelby Marx stood by her decision over their lunch date. Kissing her that first time wasn't going to be an isolated incident, it simply had to be done appropriately. Shelby broke their kiss for a moment, looking her partner in the eye.

"Wendy, I hope you don't think that what happened at lunch was an accident, because I wasn't. I wanted what happened to happen, which is why… well, you know…"

The redhead did the only thing that, to her, made sense. She rested her head on the fighter's muscular chest.

"Shelby, I… I… um…."

Slender fingers caressed her back.

"Shhh… There's time to talk later. Right now, it's just time for quiet, Wendy Sue…"

"Shelby…" Wendy whined.

Shelby grinned.

"I think I've earned the right to fuss at you a little bit…"

Wendy blushed. She knew that Shelby had.

"Shelby… I… look, you can fuss at me all you want… on one condition…"

The champion knew that there had to be a catch here. She smiled, waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop.

Wendy let the suspense linger for a moment, as she wound the fighter's long dark hair in her fingers. She shot Shelby a bright, toothy smile.

"Fuss at me, all you want, Champ… my only condition is that you love me while you're doing it."

Shelby Marx chuckled. Carly and Sam's little friend was a handful and she drove a hard bargain, but it was a bargain Shelby intended to keep.