Disclaimer: Uh, you guys still there? And thankfully, none of you are going to sue me...hopefully...:)
A/N: All right, I have no excuse. I simply forgot last night. So here's your update, possibly the longest chapter of the series. It's a bit of a flashback, but if I have to tell you that then apparently I'm not a very good writer...:) Anyway, thanks for all the feedback, and if you want an answer, you have to Log In. THe anonymous reviews are fine, etc., but if you want an answer...well, now that fanficdotnet has this cool reply to review thingie, we may as well take advantage of it.
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The first time had been on a rainy afternoon, a mere month after her eighteenth birthday. She and Bo had been at the lake, Bo with some cock-eyed idea about them going fishing together. It was very close to resulting in a session of skinny-dipping, although neither of them really had the nerve to go that far yet, when it started to rain.
Not just rain. Pour.
Her house wasn't far away. Her father was gone; out for the day playing Bingo with some others in town, before Boss Hogg had taken so much of the cut that the game was no longer considered worth playing. He wouldn't be back for hours.
She knew he'd kill her if he found out, but she didn't care – they were wet, she simply couldn't let Bo wander home and risk him getting a cold, could she? So she sent him into the bathroom with a towel and told him to dry off, and went to go change. When she came back, Bo was shirtless, a condition which always suited him, and he had his head hung over and was vigorously rubbing his shaggy mane with the towel. When he stopped and popped his head back up, the blond locks nearly stood on end in a horrible tangle of a mess.
She laughed. He smiled at her. "What are you laughing at?" he said, although he knew perfectly well.
"Here," she sighed, coming close to him. His shirt hung on the shower rack behind them, nearly transparent with all the moisture. It was going to take forever to dry. She picked up her brush and delicately began picking through the knots, little by little restoring his hair to some semblance of order.
"You don't have to be so gentle with me," he said, standing still and letting her work, his eyes following her face, as much as she tried to keep her own eyes on her task. "I'm not a tender-head."
"No, you're a soft skull," she murmured. He responded by tickling her, but she jerked back, annoyed. "Stop it! I'm working!"
"Are you?" he mocked. "I can't hardly feel anything."
She narrowed her eyes at him, but kept on untangling. Soon, she was smoothing down his hair, and surprise lit his eyes when he felt the brush against his scalp. He glanced at the mirror and saw her handiwork.
"Wow," he said. "You're good."
"With hair like mine, I have to be," she replied, setting the brush down. "What about your jeans?"
"You want me to take them off too?" he asked, one eyebrow arched and the mischief dancing across his face.
She instinctively pursed her lips to say no, but stopped. "I mean, if they're too wet to sit in, or if you need to change."
"Well, nothing on but my knickers underneath, not much to change into." That mischief was still there, darkening every second.
She felt a thrill through her stomach. It jolted down to her knees. "I swear, Bo," she heard herself say, "you make the knees of my bees weak."
He encircled an arm low about her waist. She found herself pressed against him and realized that his jeans were not that damp, but actually rather dry and warm. Or maybe that was just body heat. Being this close to him did nothing to help the sensations in her stomach. They seemed to double over and intensify.
She let out a long sigh, and had the distinct pleasure of watching it run over the exposed skin of his neck, making him shiver slightly.
"If it makes you feel any better, Henri," he said, his voice a murmuring whisper against her cheek, "you scare the hell out of me."
It was her turn to arch an eyebrow at him. "I do?"
He nodded. Both arms were around her now, slipped under her own, lying against her sides so she could feel the softness of the downy blond hair on them against her ribcage, even through his shirt. While he wasn't terribly muscular, he certainly had muscle in those arms, and she could feel the strength radiating from them. "I've waited to tell you this…but, when I first saw you hanging out at my locker, I almost…well…" He gave a toothy grin and a mild chuckle. "It was enough to make me wet myself."
Her lips suddenly pursed in restrained laughter. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
He just kept smiling down at her, totally unselfconscious. This was not the Bo Duke who strutted like a rooster for the girls, winked unabashedly at any flirtatious smile thrown his way. She was totally amazed to find this layer there, having dismissed him as just a pretty-boy who took all the action he could get. She had long since started to suspect there was more, but suspecting and knowing were two different worlds.
"I first noticed you hanging out at the practices," he went on, his voice low and melodic. "You kind of stand out, looking like a biker chick. But I thought you were the prettiest girl around. Everybody told me that you were just trouble looking for a place to happen, but I didn't care. I didn't even think you'd be interested in me."
She let out a choked giggle. "Then what did you think I was hanging around for?"
"None of us knew. We were trying to figure out if you were interested in one of us, and for a bunch of guys who think you're just trouble, let me tell you, there was some serious debate."
She found herself blushing. "Oh, you're full of shit."
"Nope, not at the moment," he went on, undaunted. Even though he didn't like it when she swore, he also knew that it was just a part of who she was. Usually the only sign of his disapproval was a slight wince, but he didn't even give that. He leaned down and softly kissed her cheek, a gesture of pure affection, slow and loving. "And when I saw you hanging around my locker that day, and realized it was me…well…" He shrugged. "I don't know, I guess it was denial for a while."
"Ah-huh," she said, eyeing him. "That's why you started flirting with every girl within ten feet of you?"
"No, I do that anyway, this time I made it twenty feet." He grinned at her a bit wider as she shuffled against him, but he held fast, pressing her even closer against his chest.
"You bad boy," she whispered.
"I tried," he said. "I figured you wouldn't stay interested if I didn't make it challenging. Now I don't even look at another girl."
"Yeah, right."
"Yes, right," he corrected her, dead seriousness on his face. "I promise. On my honor as a Duke."
She bit her lip. It was a bit embarrassing, having him so vulnerable like this, and yet it made her giddy beyond comprehension. "Well," she said after a considerably pause, "it certainly worked, Bo. I went through a lot of trouble to catch you, and I don't think I want to let go."
"Huh? You thought you'd love me and leave me, right?"
He was joking, but she buried the seriousness behind those words. Notch in her belt indeed. How could she let this beautiful creature go?
"You've still got a lot to prove, Bo Duke," she said, covering up for her sudden discomfort by going on the offensive. "I've seen you smile at way too many girls prettier than me for me to believe you." She started to turn away, taking advantage of a momentary lax in his arms, but he caught her again, pulling her so that her back rested against his chest.
"Smiling is harmless," he whispered in her ear. His lips trailed a line down the sinews in her neck. She shivered, a sudden burst in her lower area, sending icy tingles throughout her spine. Nobody had ever made her feel that way before, not ever, and she'd made out with her fair share of boys. Usually it was simply hunger for flesh on flesh and the mockery of affection she strove for, but to be suddenly confronted with the real deal was…unnerving.
"Bet you say that to all your girlfriends," she said, her voice unsteady.
"Hm-mmmm," he hmmmed, his lips now on her exposed shoulder. She felt the sensations start to twist and mutate, and her brain seemed ready to burst open and lose every semblance of sense she had ever had. Her original plan…it seemed like such an immature joke now. She'd done lots of things with boys, but she had never gone so far as to actually lose her virginity. The appeal of Bo Duke and his reputation had intrigued her into wanting to know for sure if he truly was experienced, or if he was just another innocent playing a game. Her plan to sleep with him seemed so childish now. Brag about being the girl who deflowered Bo Duke, even if he was the one who deflowered her too. Now she just wanted him, as close to her as possible.
With a sudden burst of strength, she broke loose from his arms, catching a glimpse of his sleepy surprise before she grabbed his wrist and pulled him down the hallway to her bedroom. He was in the middle of the room, looking around rather bewildered, when she pushed the door shut behind them and quickly turned the lock. The click made him look at her.
"What's…uh…" He was blushing, smiling, hands going into his pockets, a sure sign of discomfort mingled with pleasure. "What's going on?"
She stepped closer to him. Her hands were hot against the bare skin of his abdomen. "Have you ever done it before, Bo?" she asked, sounding to her own ears like a little girl.
That blush spread down his neck and onto his chest. He was going to be a giant red beet by the time this was over. Sure enough, the boy had never done it. She felt a thrill of victory, then had it squelched by the fact that he had possibly been in this situation before and had managed to escape it.
"Well," he said, rubbing his neck in nervousness. His skin twitched wherever her fingers touched it, and yet he did nothing to push her away, "Uncle Jesse always said…it wouldn't be right unless…you were in love, and…well, he says I'm too young to be in love."
She almost scowled. Her own father had said the same thing many times. But his wife had left him. So much for love. Still, she nodded, loosening her grip on him but not removing her hands.
"I guess he's right," she said. "You shouldn't unless you love the person. I guess." Her voice trailed off, and her fingers almost slid away from him. Then his arms were around her neck, pulling her closer.
"Henri-Mae, I want to," he said, his blue eyes wide and looking down into her face. "I know Uncle Jesse thinks I'm too young to be in love, but I know I've never felt this way about a girl before."
She twisted her lips up at him. That was a standard line. "Maybe you just haven't been around enough girls," she quipped.
He pulled her closer, her chin practically resting against his chest. "I've been around plenty," he said. He glanced around the bedroom. "Even been in their rooms, once or twice." Suspicions confirmed, she told herself. "But I've never once wanted to stay."
She looked up at him, eyes narrowed. He was either acting or he was stupid. "Liar," she said, her voice soft but not harsh.
"Swear it on my life," he said. "Older girls, mostly, back when I was a sophomore. Thought they could put notches on their belts. But I wanted to wait until I felt right about a girl."
She almost snorted, but it came out as a much softer noise in her opinion. "And do you feel right about me?"
He looked toward the door, his fear at it suddenly bursting open and destroying the moment clear on his face. He looked back down at her. "Yes."
She almost laughed. At least it made her a bit more in-control of the situation, she thought. She slid the flat of her palms up his sides and dug her nails slightly into his shoulder blades. "Well, want to find out what comes next after necking?"
He grinned at her. "Well, I certainly never mind the necking part…do you think we have enough time before you dad comes back to find out?"
She stepped away and over to the bed. "Let's find out."
Find out they did. She had discovered that day that control was an illusion. She had thought that at any moment she could pull away and throw cold water over the whole thing if he showed the slightest resistance, or if she felt the merest inclination to leave him hanging. But emotions and hormones were too powerful, and before she knew it they were both naked and seeing parts of each other they had never seen on anyone – except maybe in pictures they weren't supposed to be looking at. It had been a childish imitation of an adult act, and not exactly complete, as neither one seemed to have quite enough steam to go all the way. Henri-Mae had found out how boys liked to touch themselves, even though she had long since suspected, and Bo, well…Bo discovered with his fingers what the inside of a girl felt like.
And it had been nothing like last night, Henna thought ruefully as she absently picked at her lunch. Sitting in the small dining nook of the boarding house, she was grateful to be alone. She just didn't want company, not Shelly, not anyone…
Her brain drifted. Shelly had mentioned that Lula Marie still lived in town. It would mean having to ask Shelly for the address. But, Henna reminded herself, Shelly was her friend and was on her side.
So why did she feel so…uncomfortable? Was she feeling guilty?
All it took was a single flash of memory, finding Bo with that little blonde twat in the hayloft in the Duke's own barn, and it was enough to burn any guilt away. Bo had gotten what he deserved.
She would go see Lula Marie. The girl had always had more brains than all of them put together. She would put things in perspective.
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Balladeer: Lula Marie Pricket had gone away to college and gotten degrees in so many fancy things that she had become a one-woman business. While she worked sometimes at the General Store, it was more for the people skills than worrying about management. After having bought the store she pretty much just let business run as usual. But Lula Marie was gifted at the modernized computer, and had single-handedly brought Hazzard into the twenty-first century. Well, as much of it as would come. The rest was still kicking and screaming.
Lula Marie lived in the apartment above the General Store. At the moment, the store looked to be under some kind of construction, the old green paint in the process of being scraped off. There was a grand picture sitting on the front porch, showing what the store was going to look like when it was done. It was going to be a deep brick-red trimmed with pale gray, and it was going to be renamed "Pricket Market." It was also going to be a bit wider, as the older building next door seemed to under much more intense construction, the inside being gutted and the windows being replaced.
Henri-Mae went inside, not sure how else to proceed. She smiled at the man standing behind the counter, who eyed her warily. "I'm looking for Lula Marie?" she asked. "I'm an old friend from high school, Henri-Mae Locke?"
The man's face lit up. Already word had gotten around town, and as much as Henri-Mae had thought she would enjoy the sympathetic looks, she didn't. "Oh, Ms. Locke!" the man said, his nametag reading "Walter." "I was so sorry to hear about how you've been treated." He scowled. "We don't treat people like that in Hazzard, I promise you."
She nodded, blushing. "Uh…just tell me where I can find Lula Marie and I'll be fine," she said.
He pointed toward a door that had a buzzer sitting right beside it. "Ms. Pricket is upstairs. Just ring that bell and she'll answer you through that speaker. Fancy contraption, but it works." He smiled at her and patted his arm. "Hope you won't leave us too soon, will you?"
She shook her head, smiling awkwardly as she stumbled away. So much for the self-confident woman who had strode into any nightclub she wanted in New York for almost a year of her life. She pressed the button a bit too harshly.
"Yes?" came a familiar voice.
"Lula Marie?" Henna ventured. "It's Henri-Mae Locke. Can I come up?"
There was a shocked silence, and then a distinct shuffle of someone coming down the stairs in a hurry. The door clicked and then opened and Lula Marie, looking a bit older and much more neatly put together, stood in the stairwell, staring at her in shock.
"My God, it is you!" she cried, her arms going around Henri-Mae's neck. She pulled her into the stairwell, gripping her hand as she led her up the stairs. "I've been hearing all sorts of things, but when you're in my line of work you believe nothing until you have some proof."
At the top of the stairs, Henna immediately realized what Lula Marie was talking about. There were at least three computers, each at their own workstations, each designated for an obviously distinct purpose. With the amount of information she had access to on a daily basis, it probably did not pay to listen to rumors.
It filled Henna with a small sense of relief.
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A/N: Yeah, I know, only one appearance from the Balladeer, but somehow I didn't find him appropriate during the long flashback. So...there ya go. REVEIW! (puppy eyes) Please?