Title: Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Author: Kimberly21570
Fandoms: Guiding Light / All My Children
Pairings: Olivia and Natalia / Lena and Bianca
Disclaimers and other Assorted Ramblings: The characters of Olivia Spencer, Natalia Rivera, Doris and Ashlee Wolfe, James Spaulding, Daisy Cooper, and Henry Cooper "Coop" Bradshaw are owned by CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. The original characters of Detective Sargent Langston Malloy, Attorney Danika Kováč, and Judge Bennett Thomas are the property of this author, and any resemblance to fictional characters, or real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
No copyright infringement intended with regard to Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, or any other entity. The dialogue, settings, and story content in these scenes are original. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.
Thank you to all who are reading and/or commenting. I appreciate your continued interest in Confessions… more than you know, especially given the duration of this story! For those who are leaving inquiries on , I apologize for the lack of response, but I am unable to respond either due to the settings on your accounts or the fact that you are commenting as guests. If you would like to ask me questions, please feel free to send me a private message. I do try to respond to those as they come in. Regarding the wonderful comments on Incandescent Fire, thank you all for those, as well. It is my goal to get back with each of you personally, and I find these days that my goal is quite lofty. I will, however, make it happen… eventually. So in the interim, I beg your forgiveness. And always, thank you for reading. Thank you also to my pal, MoniRod for the edit. I truly appreciate all that you do to help me. You are beyond awesome.
Rating: This section of Chapter 14 is rated NC-17 for graphic sexual situations and coarse language.
Please note that the way in which sexual encounters between Doris and Bennett are written is quite different from that of Olivia and Natalia. Historically, Doris Wolfe was, in many ways, known as a brazen, crass character. Even her name hints at the undertone of who, and what, she is. As such, I have chosen to explore that side of her through her sexual expression. If I were writing sexual encounters for Olivia with any other character, I would, and did in the case of her encounter with Gus, write her very much the same way, because Olivia and Doris are very similar creatures at their core. But Olivia has embarked upon a relationship that has changed her in many ways, and thus, the way she approaches sex with Natalia is very different from anything she has experienced in the past. Doris and Bennett's encounters will, at times, be very raw and the language used to express their thoughts, feelings, and physical sensations will be unapologetically crude. Words like "cock" and "pussy" are used freely in their scenes, because I believe they are true to the nature of the characters. Please do not take this as being derogatory toward women in any way, because that is not my intent. Sexual expression can take on many forms, and most couples express themselves in myriad ways throughout the course of their relationship. And to me, a couple who "fucks" or talks about one another's cocks or pussies can most certainly be expressing the depth of their love, just as beautifully as a couple that "makes love." Doris and Bennett will have tender moments, just as Olivia and Natalia will fuck. Neither is superior to the other, and neither is "bad" or "wrong," regardless of the words that are used to express it.
Now, with all that being said, I hope y'all enjoy the final section of this little interlude from the drama.
Regards—
Kimberly
Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows
Copyright May 2009
"Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. 4 Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. 5 If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. 6 But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. 7 That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. 8 Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do."
— James 1:2-8, the Bible, New International Version (NIV)
"God promises a safe landing, not a calm passage. If God brings you to it, He will bring you through it."
Unknown
Chapter 14.20 – Trials and Tribulations:
Friday, June 19, 2009… The Spaulding Mansion—12:30 a.m. Central Daylight Time
"At least she had the guts to tell you the truth from the beginning, Rafe," Ashlee reasoned with surprising coherence as they talked about Rafe's ongoing issues with his mother's new "lifestyle," as he referred to it.
They had settled into matching lounge chairs, sitting side-by-side, on the veranda just outside the game room, after being abandoned by James and Daisy. It was a warm June evening, but not too humid to enjoy. The Spaulding grounds were awash in the shimmering light of a full moon that reflected its brilliance in the waters of the pond near the stables. The scent of honeysuckle and fresh cut grass lingered in the air, and the sounds of crickets and frogs and other creatures mingled with the flowing waters in the huge marble fountain at the center of the Spaulding gardens. In all, it was a lovely way to spend the late evening, even if the conversation wasn't completely pleasant.
"My mom kept it from me my whole life," Ashlee pouted. "And she's still keeping secrets from me." Her tone of voice said she was still a little put off by her mother's evasiveness the other night, and she wondered if she would ever hear the truth about what was going on. But she didn't let that distract her attempt to make a point to Rafe. "Your mom's being honest with you. Be grateful for that."
"Sure, she told me the truth. But that doesn't change the fact that what she's doing goes against everything she ever taught me," Rafe argued.
"She actually taught you that being gay was a sin?" Ashlee inquired.
"Well, no," Rafe grudgingly admitted, after several moments of silence. "We never talked about it at all. But the Church says it's a sin."
"That's the Church, Rafe. Not your mom," Ashlee pointed out. "Lots of people believe in God, but that doesn't mean they have to agree with everything the Church says." She emphasized the organization. "That's just a bunch of grumpy old men making up rules. It has nothing to do with God." Though many things were lost on Ashlee, the sexist culture that was prevalent in most religious organizations wasn't one of them.
Rafe knew she had a point, but that didn't mean he had to like it. And it certainly didn't mean he was giving up his fight. "Well, maybe she didn't teach me that being gay was a sin, but she certainly taught me that having sex outside of marriage is!" he exclaimed. "I mean, she totally freaked out when she found out I had sex with Daisy. But it's okay for her get pregnant by Frank when they're not married? And it's okay for her to do God knows what with Olivia? That's just fucking hypocritical, man."
"Well, I guess I can kinda see your point," Ashlee granted. "Then again, you were a teenager, Rafe," she reminded. "My mom freaked out too, when she found out I was having sex with Coop. And she's not religious at all. Mom's freak out when their kids have sex." Her tone was matter-of-fact. "I think it's a requirement," she added, her blonde head bouncing like a bobble-head figurine.
"So you think she wouldn't freak out now, if she found out I was having sex?" Rafe sounded unconvinced.
"I don't know," Ashlee shrugged. "But I think this is about more than just your mom having sex outside of marriage."
Rafe looked at her warily. "What makes you say that?"
"You're not exactly subtle about your dislike of Olivia," Ashlee pointed out.
"My dad is dead because of her," Rafe said angrily.
"No, your dad is dead because he got into an accident," Ashlee countered. "Just like Coop," she added quietly. "Accidents aren't anyone's fault, Rafe. That's why they're called accidents."
"He wouldn't have been on that road if that bitch hadn't been trying to get into his pants," Rafe argued. "She's a liar, and a cheat, and a home-wrecker. And she's gonna break my mom's heart."
"You don't know the real Olivia, Rafe," Ashlee asserted, defending the hotelier. "Yeah, she can be abrasive. And she's done her fair share of underhanded things. But who hasn't?"
Rafe simply shrugged. He certainly couldn't argue her point. They had both been in juvenile detention, and Rafe was a convicted felon!
"Olivia is a dynamic woman. One who's been hurt over and over again, but never stops trying," Ashlee continued, making her case. "She taught me that I could accomplish anything, become whoever I wanted to be, if only I could learn to take risks like she does. And loving your mom, being honest about those feelings—that's the biggest risk she's ever taken. Trust me, she's not gonna break your mom's heart."
"How could you possibly know that," Rafe said. It was more a statement of disbelief, than a question.
"Olivia Spencer has never needed anyone. She told me so herself, once upon a time. But she finally found the one person she can't imagine living without. She won't do anything to mess that up," Ashlee answered. "Just… give her a chance, okay? I promise you, you won't be disappointed."
"Yeah, I'll think about it," Rafe sighed. What was the sense in arguing, anyway? He wasn't going to get anywhere with her.
When Rafe fell silent again, Ashlee glanced at her watch, noting the time. That goofy grin plastered on her face, she nudged his arm. "Hey, happy birthday, Rafe," she said sweetly.
Rafe smiled. "Thanks."
"You wanna watch another movie? You can pick," she said, sweetening the deal. "Hard telling if we'll see James and Daisy again tonight."
"Nah," Rafe said passively. "I'd rather hang out here, if that's okay with you. Being cooped up in that stuffy old house reminds me too much of being in prison."
"Yeah, I'd rather hang out here too," Ashlee easily agreed.
They fell into a companionable silence then, just relaxing, enjoying the sounds and smells of summertime in Springfield. And only occasionally did Ashlee startle him from his thoughts by abruptly blurting out random thoughts that only made sense in her own head. As awkward as she was, Rafe found that he truly enjoyed her company—even if he didn't always appreciate her point-of-view.
Friday, June 19, 2009… The Farmhouse of Love—12:45 a.m. Central Daylight Time
"Mm… that was incredible, Liv," Natalia murmured against Olivia's skin, as they lay in the sweet afterglow of their lovemaking. Her body was wrapped around Olivia's, one arm and one leg draped across, her cheek pillowed against a firm breast. "Wherever you found that thing, I hope you can get ten more just like it, in case we wear this one out."
"Just ten?" Olivia sounded amused. They hadn't stopped with that first shared climax, but continued on through multiple mutual climaxes, each one stronger than the one previous, before Natalia finally curled her body around Olivia's, both of them thoroughly sated.
"Okay, maybe ten dozen," Natalia amended.
"That good, huh?"
Olivia's soft laugh vibrated in her chest, drawing a smile from Natalia. "Spectacular," she declared. She skimmed her mouth across a breast, lightly kissing an erect nipple. "Can't wait to do it again."
"Should I take that to mean you've lost interest in what's left in the box?"
Natalia tweaked that nipple between her thumb and forefinger, earning a yelp of protest, followed by a low purr, in response. "Not on your life, Olivia Spencer."
Olivia laughed outright this time. "Guess I'd better buy stock in Energizer batteries."
"That sounds like a prudent idea, Ms. Spencer," Natalia declared, as her hand caressed Olivia's torso, leisurely trailing from her breasts all the way to that patch of soft, manicured curls. They were still slick with Olivia's arousal, and Natalia purred softly against Olivia's neck. Her touch was simply a means of maintaining contact, not meant to provoke in any way. And yet, they both still felt the flickering embers of desire tingling deep in their bellies.
Lifting her hand, Natalia slowly licked Olivia's wetness from her fingertips. The sight of it drew a sharp gasp from Olivia's lips. Natalia had done a lot of things that surprised her, but that was one of the most erotic things she'd ever witnessed.
As her own arousal spiked again, Natalia murmured a phrase in Spanish—something to the effect of loving the velvety sweetness of Olivia when she came in her mouth. And then her voice turned husky, as she continued in Spanish—something about wanting to bury her face in Olivia's pussy, suck her until her sweet juices flowed like a fountain, and then drink from her until her thirst was satisfied.
"I should probably buy stock in swear jars too," Olivia commented casually, warding off the rising tide of want that swelled from watching Natalia lick her fingers clean. It was late, and she knew if they got started again, they would never sleep. And Natalia needed to rest. Growing a tiny human was hard work. "'Cause I'm fairly certain some of that Spanish gibberish of yours included cursing," she teased.
Natalia's brow furrowed as she contemplated. "How would you know?" she challenged.
"I have my ways," Olivia said evasively.
Glancing up, Natalia met Olivia's gaze, finding that teasing smirk reflected there. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "You!" she groaned indignantly. And then she smacked Olivia's lower belly where she had just been caressing her. "You said you didn't know a word of Spanish!"
Olivia laughed heartily. "Honey, I said I didn't speak a word of it," she clarified, emphasizing the action verb. "I never said I didn't understand any of it."
"So you…" Natalia propped up on one elbow, glaring down at Olivia with those intense mahogany eyes. "Every time I…"
That eyebrow arched, and Olivia grinned. "What? Understood you, every time you said you wanted to devour my pussy?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
A profuse blush colored Natalia's cheeks.
"Or fuck me senseless with your tongue?"
Natalia's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. Oh, my God!
"Or every time you cussed me out and called me every name in the book, when I wouldn't behave after my surgery?" Olivia continued to suggest. "Yeah, I understood every word of it. Relatively speaking."
Mouth still gaping, Natalia didn't say a word. She just kept staring at her, disbelievingly. She wasn't sure if she was more angry, or embarrassed.
And Olivia just laughed the way she always did. She grasped Natalia's waist, and pulled her back down onto the mattress beside her, pinning her with a well-placed thigh. "Believe me, I wasn't protesting any of the things you wanted to do to me," she murmured against soft skin, as the heat of her mouth skated across a pulse point.
Natalia groaned in response, and Olivia grinned against the warmth of her skin.
"And if speaking in Spanish allows you to express those kinds of things to me, I think that's wonderful," Olivia whispered. "I hope that never changes."
Her mouth continued its exploration. Natalia murmured something else in Spanish, letting her know that it wouldn't, as her head leaned to the side, allowing Olivia greater access. "And you cussing me out when I was misbehaving wasn't that big a deal," Olivia said reassuringly. "You're hot when you're pissed." She nipped at Natalia's neck. "And you're smokin' hot when you're pissed in Spanish." She emphasized the smokin' part.
That broke Natalia's resolve, and she laughed.
Olivia smiled, and skimmed her mouth across Natalia's in a brief kiss. "Why do you think I kept pushing your buttons the way I did?" she asked rhetorically, when her gaze fell into Natalia's once again.
Rolling her eyes, Natalia shook her head in amusement. "You are completely incorrigible," she sighed. It never ceased to amaze her how easily this woman could charm her.
"I hope you never stop saying that to me," Olivia said sincerely.
Natalia's face twisted. "Okay, I'll bite," she said; her expression cautiously curious. This one was too intriguing to pass up. "Why?"
"Because you're always laughing when you say it," Olivia answered. "So it would mean you still think I'm funny."
"I don't think you're funny, Olivia," Natalia said dryly.
"Whatever," Olivia said dismissively. "You know I am."
Natalia neither confirmed nor denied. She simply pulled the sheet back up to their waists, and snuggled against Olivia, an arm and a leg draped across her body, her head resting against that firm breast.
And then they were quiet, as Olivia simply held her close, her hand lightly stroking Natalia's soft skin. Lost in the sensations—the scent of her in the afterglow of their lovemaking, the gentle curve of her hip, her belly, beneath her hand, Olivia closed her eyes. Images of her beautiful face, that gorgeous body, so open to her, so vulnerable in the throes of their lovemaking, filled Olivia's senses to overflowing. "Natalia?" she finally whispered, breaking through the silence.
"Hmm?" Natalia murmured sleepily.
"You're positively gorgeous when you come," she murmured against Natalia's hair. She was gorgeous all the time, but never more so than at the pinnacle of release, her skin glistening with that light sheen of arousal, her beautiful face filled with expression, and yet somehow simultaneously relaxed as the ecstasy overtook her.
Natalia felt her face flush a shade deeper than it already was from her recent climax, and she nuzzled against Olivia's breast, shyly. "You make me feel gorgeous, the way you look at me," she whispered. "And not just when we make love..."
"I hope I can always make you feel that way," Olivia said sincerely.
A slight smile twitched on Natalia's lips, and she tipped her head, brushing a kiss against the corner of Olivia's mouth. "I have no doubt that you will," she whispered.
Natalia's unwavering confidence in her was like a soothing balm to her once-tattered soul. Sensing the threat of tears, Olivia struggled to steady her emotions, as she caught Natalia's chin with a fingertip, and held her gaze. Her face was still slightly flushed from their lovemaking, and it glowed with the essence of genuine contentment. God, she was beautiful.
The expression on Olivia's face told Natalia that she had something profound to say. Her breath was held captive in her chest, as she waited for the words to come. But Olivia was too overwhelmed with emotion to utter a single word. Lightly, she skimmed her mouth over Natalia's, her tongue brushing against Natalia's lower lip, seeking entrance.
When Natalia opened to her, Olivia slipped her tongue inside, deepening the encounter, simply trusting that the words she couldn't find would be conveyed through the tender sincerity of her kiss. And when their mouths finally parted, she pulled Natalia impossibly closer, and Natalia relaxed against her body again, allowing sleep to swiftly claim her. There would be other times to explore their toy chest, they both knew. They had all the time in the world.
Olivia smiled at the familiar cadence of Natalia's slow, steady breaths as she drifted off to sleep, and gently, she kissed the soft raven tendrils that teased at Natalia's brow. Releasing a soft, contented sigh, she closed her eyes, allowing the essence of Natalia to engulf her once again, and within moments, she drifted off, dreaming of the sights, and scents, and sounds of this magnificent creature asleep in her arms.
Friday, June 19, 2009… Bennett Thomas's Residence—1:00 a.m. Central Daylight Time
Boneless and still quivering from her release, Doris's body slumped down to rest against Bennett's torso, the thick cock still buried deep inside her. Their shared climax had been spectacular. But she didn't need to voice that fact—the current state of their bodies was a glowing testament to it. Her clitoris still throbbed, and she could feel Bennett's pulsing beneath her, as she wrapped her arms around Bennett's body, clinging to her. It hadn't taken long to leave them both breathless and sated. Not that either of them was surprised. But they also both knew they weren't finished.
As if by some silent, mutual agreement, Bennett grasped those shapely hips, effortlessly flipping them over. The rise and fall of their chests were in perfect sync, their breaths coming in heavy, abrupt bursts, as the weight of Bennett's muscular body pressed into her.
Doris groaned from the pressure of the cock and the way Bennett's pelvic bone pressed so perfectly against her swollen clitoris. She had always been extremely sensitive after orgasm, but that never stopped her from enjoying the added stimulation. She spread her legs wide, opening her pussy to Bennett in sweet surrender. God, she loved it when Bennett fucked her this way.
Her body strategically contorted, Bennett rested the bulk of her weight on her forearms at Doris's side. Searching, her mouth found a waiting breast, an erect nipple. Hungrily, she devoured first one, then the other, as she simultaneously thrust her hips, repeatedly slamming the cock deep inside Doris's hot, wet core. The harder she thrust, the more aroused she became, as the base slammed against her own aching need—and the louder the cries of appreciation she received from Doris, in return.
Over and over, Doris felt Bennett's cock stretching her, filling her, and with each deep thrust, her back arched a little farther off of the bed, despite the weight of Bennett's body against her own. They had fucked countless times over the years, in more ways than Doris could possibly recall. All of them were good. Spectacular, in fact. But there was a reason this cock was her favorite: those thick, firm ridges that rose up like brazen tentacles from the stiff silicone surface, licking and scraping at exactly the right spots, every single time Bennett thrust against her; like the perfect scratch for every itch in her sopping wet pussy.
The moment Doris's climax took hold, Bennett felt that tight, wet pussy clamp down on her thick tumescence, sucking her deep inside. She groaned as she abandoned the nipple she had sucked into a throbbing knot of pleasurable pain, and captured Doris's mouth in a bruising kiss, as she pressed her full weight down on Doris's body. Angling her hips, she moved just enough to continue teasing the sensitive nerve endings that licked at the base of her cock, heightening the pleasure of Doris's release, even as she stimulated her own throbbing clitoris.
And finally, a raucous growl tore from burning lungs, and was met by an answering groan from deep within Doris's belly as they came, their bodies convulsing in mutual release. Doris clung to her, arms and legs wrapped firmly around Bennett's body, her fingernails digging into muscles that rippled in Bennett's back. She howled and cried, and Bennett joined her in a chorus of sharp grunts as she humped against Doris's pussy in short, quick thrusts, expertly drawing out their pleasure until the final vestiges of release slipped from their grasp. And then, gasping for air, Bennett's sweat-soaked body collapsed against Doris's thin, muscular frame, and she buried her face against her lover's neck.
Doris's breaths came in quick, fettered surges, as she tangled her fingertips in Bennett's short, raven locks. "God, I love the way you fuck me," she brazenly declared.
Pressing her forearms into the mattress, Bennett lifted up just enough to meet Doris's dark blue gaze. "Oh, yeah?" she barely managed. She sounded rather proud of herself, despite the fact that she could barely breathe.
Doris grinned. "Yeah," she panted. She tightened her grasp on the back of Bennett's neck, pulling her down for a kiss. Her tongue snaked out, filling Bennett's mouth, as she shifted her hips, surging against Bennett's groin.
Bennett groaned at the unexpected contact, and broke the kiss. "You need to go again?" she offered, her breasts brushing against Doris's as she struggled for air.
A satisfied smirk hijacked Doris's lips. "No, I'm good for now," she answered.
Grinning, Bennett nodded. "Okay," she agreed. "Then I think we both need a shower."
Doris shook her head. "In the morning," she declared on a sultry grin. "After you make me come a few more times."
"I think that can be arranged."
Bennett rolled to the side then, pulling Doris along with her. She held her close, their bodies entwined, her thick cock still buried deep inside, the way Doris always liked it in those moments following their most passionate lovemaking. Brushing her lips against the sweaty brunette tendrils that teased at Doris's temple, she smiled, and whispered, "It feels so good to be with you like this again."
"The best part is knowing I'll wake up in your arms," Doris said softly, as she tightened her hold on Bennett's body.
"Yes," Bennett quietly agreed. "I've missed that most of all. No matter how close we've been, I could never seem to get close enough to you."
"Maybe that's because we always knew we'd have to leave eventually," Doris speculated.
"Perhaps," Bennett granted. "But those days are over now."
"Yes," Doris murmured sleepily.
Bennett brushed her lips against Doris's mouth again, and then gently withdrew from her body, both of them mourning the loss. A few quick but careful movements, and she was shedding the harness, dropping it on the floor alongside the bed. And finally, she pulled Doris against her again, their bodies intertwining at every possible juncture. She whispered to her then, telling her how much she loved her. And hearing Doris's murmured declaration in return, she closed her eyes, and joined her in sleep.
Friday, June 19, 2009… Springfield P.D. Surveillance Van—1:45 a.m. Central Daylight Time
"All systems go."
Spoken with authority and firm conviction, with those three simple words, Detective Sergeant Langston Malloy set into motion a series of events that would take place throughout the City of Springfield, and numerous places across the state. The impact of her decision would shake not only her own world, but that of the statewide criminal justice system, and thus, the entire State of Illinois, to its very foundation.
After finishing the surveillance job they were initially working, she had spent the next several hours meticulously gathering and organizing intelligence from a myriad of sources throughout the state. Given the nature of what she had learned since beginning this investigation a mere thirty six hours ago, she had been forced to call in favors from trusted friends on the Springfield P.D., as well as old contacts in Chicago—contacts she knew to be above reproach. Such a move was necessary to ensure that prosecution would be imminent for those who were involved at the higher levels of the governmental hierarchy, not only in Springfield, but across the entire state.
What she found as she began making calls, was that finance tycoon Preston Morgan's involvement in the Jackson case was barely the tip of an iceberg so large it threatened to sink the entirety of the Illinois State Government, if struck.
Not only had Morgan been under investigation for alleged criminal activities for months, but so had many individuals in both local and state law enforcement and politics, from rookie police officers all the way to the Governor's mansion. And though the majority of what was about to go down had nothing to do with her own case, their illegal activities all traced back to Morgan—and inevitably, to Langston's own past. A past that she had struggled for years to escape.
And now here she was, staring it down, yet again.
"Are you sure you want to do that?" Danika had asked upon the realization of what Langston's actions would mean. They had been coordinating with the Organized Crime Task Force (OCTF) all evening, and things were about to get ugly. "Once you make that call, it can't be undone."
"Yes, I know."
Delivered on a sigh, Langston's heart felt heavy, burdened, as she contemplated the consequences of her actions—or inaction. They were still cramped in that small space in the back of the surveillance van, and she sat with her elbows propped on muscular thighs, her head cradled in her hands. "But I took an oath to uphold the law, Dani. I don't have a choice."
"Wasn't it you who recently reminded me that there's always a choice?"
What might have been spoken in spite, given their history, was actually delivered in a gentle reminder, as Danika moved closer to the battle-weary detective. Instinctively, she knew that it wasn't just this case, but the burden of the past that was pressing down on her with a crushing weight, borne of a lifetime of anger and regret.
Touché, Langston thought. And yet, in her mind, the circumstances were completely different.
As she contemplated the not-so-subtle nuances of their differing situations, her next awareness was the warmth of Danika's hand as it tenderly caressed the strained muscles of her upper back and neck. She had long-since removed her jacket; and it almost felt as though the woman was touching her bare skin. Self-Preservation screamed a warning to get out, to get away. But Duplicity argued just a few innocent touches wouldn't hurt, and Intemperance made no effort to move. And despite herself, a low groan escaped her lips, as aching muscles relaxed under that familiar touch.
Despite the obvious tension in Langston's body, the familiar ripple of those muscles beneath Dani's fingertips felt like heaven. It had been so long since she had last made their acquaintance, and more than anything, she wanted to feel her hands on Langston's bare skin once again. But thankful that Langston hadn't pulled away, she settled for what she could have in the moment. "This is going down whether you act or not, Lang," she quietly noted, as her thumb grazed the detective's right shoulder blade.
"That's true enough," Langston admitted, mostly to herself. She was a sex crimes detective, and her authority began and ended right there. Even without her case, Morgan would be arrested, and all hell would break loose across the state. Her discretion in making the call as to when and where had been extended to her as a courtesy by the head of the OCTF, who just so happened to be a trusted colleague, and more importantly, a friend who understood just exactly what was at stake.
The bottom line though, was the fact that if the OCFT hadn't been ready to move, Langston's hands would've been tied in terms of her own case. She wouldn't have been allowed to move ahead with her arrest of Morgan, because it might have jeopardized years' worth of undercover work. And thus, Tracy's life would've remained in limbo, pending his arrest on the federal case. "But if I don't act, given the knowledge that I have now, it could be perceived as corruption on my part. And you and I both know when the shit hits the fan, the truth won't matter one goddamned bit."
"Action on your part right now could also be perceived as you trying to cover your own ass," Danika argued logically.
"Guess I'm damned if I do, and damned if I don't, huh?" Langston released a bitter laugh.
"Sounds about right," Dani agreed with a sigh.
"We caught more than enough evidence on tape tonight to exonerate your client," Langston noted a few minutes later. "The Feds won't care that Morgan was behind all of that. They're more interested in their own pursuits."
After a brief pause, Danika asked, "Are you afraid of your case getting lost in the shuffle?"
"It's my job… and yours… to ensure that it doesn't," Langston answered forthrightly. "You just keep making waves until someone listens."
"Right."
They fell silent for a moment, and Langston raked a hand through her thick black hair, as she further contemplated the situation. And then, clasping her hands between her knees, she turned, squarely meeting Danika's gaze for the first time in hours. "This is gonna affect you too," she noted warily. The tone of her voice asked a question she couldn't bear to pose aloud.
"Yes," Danika quietly acknowledged, though the truth was, she didn't know the half of it. Her eyes fell upon Langston's clasped hands, but she resisted the urge to take one into her own. "But whatever comes of this, I'm okay with it, Lang. I made my peace with the inevitable when I walked away."
"You're certain?" Langston queried. It pissed her off that she even cared, but she couldn't help herself. She did.
Her dark gaze never leaving slate blue depths of Langston's, Danika nodded her assent.
Langston released a heavy sigh; her decision made. "I'd rather be perceived as covering my own ass, Dani. At least I'll know I did what was right in the eyes of the law."
A slight smile trembled at the corners of Danika's mouth, and she dared reach out a hand, running her fingers through Langston's hair. It still felt as thick and silky as the last time her fingers had tangled in it at the height of their passion, and she was grateful that Langston didn't pull away. "For what it's worth, I never doubted that would be your choice," she said soothingly. "Not for a moment."
A slight nod and a tremulous smile were all Langston offered in response, as Dani returned her hand to her lap. Silence fell between them again, each of them contemplating what the other could not possibly know. And then, without making contact with Danika's gaze, Langston quietly said, "If any of this is ever traced back to me, you'll be in danger, Dani. You should know that before I make the call."
"I don't understand," Dani said, momentarily confused. Yes, the shit would surely roll downhill once arrests were made, but what did that have to do with her personal safety?
And then Truth slammed down on her chest with a crushing blow. She pressed her hand against it, as the oxygen ripped from her lungs. "Oh, my God!" she gasped.
Turning, she looked at Langston in profile, staring as if paradoxically encountering a latent memory for the very first time. "All this time, Lang…"
Her voice choked, as the tears began to fall. They streaked down her flawless bronzed cheeks, creating darkened splotches on the fabric of her sapphire blouse. "All this time… Every time I heard about another overt conflict, a shift in power, a covert maneuver, I wondered: How the hell am I still alive?" she confessed. "It was you. You're the reason."
Everything made sense now. And with every fiber of her being, she wanted to grab Langston, to kiss her and hold her close, to thank her for what she had done, for the obvious sacrifices she had made when she could have easily chosen otherwise.
Forcing herself to ignore the emotion in Danika's tone, Langston focused on her hands, clasped between her knees. Her only confirmation was a simple, whispered, "Yes."
There was a lengthy pause, the only sound in the tight space being the hitching of Danika's breath, as she attempted to regain her composure; each of them carefully considering their next words, their next actions.
Danger to her meant danger to Langston, Danika understood without explanation. And in her head, Bewilderment screamed, "Why, Lang? Why would you put yourself in that position? Why!"
But Reflection already knew the answer. Her heart fluttered in her chest, as memories of the way things used to be, flooded her senses. The Longing that had stubbornly set up camp in her heart long ago, felt a renewed sense of hope. Maybe, just maybe…, she dared to dream, as she felt her hand lifting, reaching out to touch Langston's face. Then Pragmatism interjected, shattering her dreams with a stern warning not to risk hoping for something that could never be. And Self-Preservation stopped her before her heart could be shattered once again. Sorrow returned to the place it shared with Longing, as her hand dropped back into her lap.
And then, Langston broke the silence, pulling Dani from her inner musings. "Still certain you're okay with the fallout?" she asked with a gentleness she no longer knew she possessed.
Even as her voice softly asked the question, Acrimony raged in Langston's mind, demanding to know why she even gave a flying fuck! The woman had betrayed her in the worst possible way, and nothing could ever trump that. But Acumen argued the reason she had posed the question was the same reason she had chosen to protect the woman in the first place, despite her unforgivable betrayal.
A fleeting glance at that beautiful face, and Loneliness and Longing forged a pact, begging her to find a path to forgiveness. And then Self-Preservation nudged Denial, awakening it from its lazy slumber, and in a frantic attempt to maintain some semblance of homeostasis, Denial quickly ordered them all to shut the fuck up. Whatever the reason, she did not want to deal with it. Not then. Not now. Not ever.
Danika drew silent as she contemplated Langston's question. The woman had already given up so much for her, despite the fact that she had done nothing to deserve it. Her betrayal, though understandable given the circumstances as she knew them, was unforgivable from Langston's perspective. And that was how it should be. It was a question of loyalty, of honor, and Danika had failed in Langston's eyes. No matter how much she wished that weren't the case, she knew that it was the truth, and nothing would ever change it.
So how could she, in good conscience, ask Langston to give up anything more for her? The answer was: She couldn't. And with that simple truth as her guiding light, her decision was made. "To say otherwise would be to ask you to compromise your principles," she finally said in a quiet, yet decisive tone. "I could never ask that of you."
Langston said nothing as she sat with her head buried in her hands, struggling to maintain her equanimity. Words such as those were spoken by the woman she had once loved—not by the woman who had betrayed her. But weren't they one and the same? The answer was no longer clear, and that uncertainty frightened her more than she cared to admit. An unexpected encounter, on a seemingly random case—and a few intensely emotional conversations—now threatened to collapse the carefully designed fortress she had constructed around her life, her heart, taking with it years' worth of anger and denial that had protected her from further pain. How could she have let that happen?
"Besides," Danika said, clearing her throat, as she finally managed to get her emotions in check.
The familiar low resonance of Danika's voice broke through Langston's thoughts, garnering her attention. Glancing up, she met the warmth of that dark gaze, as Danika did what she did best: make a case for plausible deniability.
"There's no reason to believe any of this will come back on you. You're not the one who makes a living on the wrong side of the law, and your actions didn't create this situation—theirs did," she said, placing blame squarely where it belonged. "And it isn't your investigation that will crack open Pandora's Box, and unleash all the evils of the underworld. You didn't go looking for it, Lang. You stumbled into this mess in the course of a completely unrelated case."
"Is it really all that unrelated, Dani?" Langston questioned. They both knew going in that Preston Morgan had ties that stretched deep into a world they had both struggled to escape.
"You're working an alleged rape and possible child endangerment case, Lang. Not an organized crime case," Danika reasoned. "There's no way you could've known Morgan was already under investigation for his dealings in Chicago."
"Regardless, I knew enough. And I should've declined the case the moment I heard Morgan was even remotely involved," Langston declared.
"You're looking for a way to blame yourself if things go wrong," Danika asserted. "Just like you did back then…"
Danika didn't need to clarify what "back then" meant. Langston was brutally aware. "Don't…" she said, her voice cracking with pent-up emotion. "Please, just don't."
"I'm sorry, Langston," Dani whispered through a fresh outpouring of tears. "I'm sorry for everything."
When Langston didn't respond, Danika began filling in more pieces of the puzzle on her own. "That's why you left Chicago—isn't it?" she asked, already knowing the answer. "In exchange for my life, he forced you to go, so you could never be used against him."
Realizing that the less Dani knew of the truth, the better, Langston sidestepped the question. "If he believes, for even one moment, that I betrayed him, you're no longer safe," she warned. "You understand that, right?" Her tone was urgent with the need to impress upon Dani the depth of her concerns.
"And neither are you," Dani gently reminded.
Langston didn't need to confirm her acute awareness of that fact. Dani already knew.
Steely blue eyes fixated on the computer screen in front of her, as conversations between task force members and local FBI agents flew by at a pace incomprehensible to the human mind. The one thing that did register—the only thing that really mattered—was that all hands were on deck, and the OCTF was ready to strike from all sides. All that was lacking was her call. And if she didn't make it soon, someone else would do it for her.
In that moment, Langston felt her blood turn cold as ice. "I've killed before to protect myself," she said emotionlessly, her voice slicing through the stillness like the sharp edge of a sword. "I won't hesitate to do it again."
What she didn't say was that she had killed to protect Danika and other loved ones, as well. But she didn't need to say it. Dani already knew that too.
"Understood, Lieutenant," was all Danika said in response.
The tacit message received, Langston lifted her radio, and steeling her resolve, she issued the order that would rock the lives of some of Springfield's and Chicago's most prominent families, forever changing the political landscape of the Land of Lincoln. And possibly signing her own death warrant, as well as that of the woman she had once loved more than her own life.
Sometimes irony could be a stone cold bitch.
TBC in Chapter 14.21…