Chapter Three:

Zosia uncorked the wine bottle and refilled her glass, setting the bottle down beside her laptop. When she'd arrived home from work that night, she'd meant to delve into her mother's diary. However, something was still holding her back. Whether it was guilt at going through her mother's private thoughts or fear that she might find unflattering comments about herself, she couldn't say - all she knew was that she could not bring herself to go through it yet. Instead, she'd turned back to her other new obsession - the puzzle box she had found in her mother's study.

Since Zosia didn't know what it was called, all she'd been able to do was search images and descriptions of puzzle boxes until she found one that matched her's. Not the most efficient method of research, but she didn't really have any other ideas. After a good few hours of searching, she'd finally stumbled across a description that matched it - a description belonging to an item called the Lemarchand Configuration.

Information about it - online, at least - was minimal. All she had found so far was that it had been constructed in the late eighteenth century by a man called Lemarchand, primarily known as a maker of mechanical singing birds. The Box was quite different from his usual work and it had apparently been commissioned by someone, but no-one seemed sure who. That was essentially the only pertinent information she could find.

However, completely useless information was in abundance. Conspiracy theories had never been of any interest to Zosia - stories of cursed artwork or artefacts had always seemed like so much nonsense to her. The notion that, say, a diamond could be cursed or that a painting could be haunted was patent drivel. However, there was a small, but dedicated group of people online who seemed convinced that the Lemarchand Boxes were capable of being used for various nefarious purposes, and that people who owned them tended to vanish in mysterious circumstances.

It was the ravings of people with far too much time on their hands, Zosia knew. Although it was oddly interesting to read about - obviously these people had very vivid imaginations. There were stories of bizarre rituals, of the many and varied uses of blood and other bodily fluids, of extreme bodily modifications - all used in conjunction with the Boxes. In fact, it was so diverting that before she knew it, it was dark outside, and Dominic was peering over her shoulder, apparently having just returned from work.

"Dominic!" she gasped in shock. "Don't creep up on me like that!"

"I didn't creep up on you," said Dominic defensively. "You're just engrossed in...well, whatever it is you're looking at online." He peered at the laptop screen. "Huh - I didn't see you as being into BDSM, but it takes all sorts, I suppose..."

"I'm...look, I just fell down a Wikipedia rabbit hole. You know how it is - you start by looking up...Eurovision winners, and by the end you're..." She shook her head. "You know what? I don't have to explain myself to you." She turned back to the computer and slammed down her laptop screen, as Dominic tried to keep reading the screen.

"The Order Of The Gash?" He raised his eyebrow to the back of Zosia's head. "Isn't that the lesbian bar in the centre of town?"

"Hilarious." Zosia reached for her neglected wine glass and downed the rest.

Dominic looked at her for a second, then grinned. "Oh...have you decided to embrace the love that dare not speak its name, and give in to that irritating radiologist woman?"

"Doctor Cowley, and she's not irritating, and..." Zosia paused. Dominic might have been joking, but he may have inadvertently had a point. All of Zosia's romantic and sexual relationships had been disasters of one type or another, and she was fast becoming perpetually stressed, unable to step away from her current problems or truly relax - always on the verge of another outburst or meltdown. Maybe she could solve both of those problems with one move. Maybe what she needed was both a distraction, and something new - something she hadn't tried before. Maybe Doctor Cowley could help her with that.

Dominic waved his hand in front of her face. "Hello? Earth to Zosia? Some form of recognition would really reassure me that you haven't just had a seizure or something."

Zosia turned to him and smiled. "You know something, Dom? I think you might just have put me on the right track."

"You're welcome? I guess?" Dominic looked at her, a concerned look on his face. "Zosh, I have to say you're acting a little weird, even by your standards."

"Whatever." Zosia stood up and walked towards her bedroom, a determined grin on her face. "I've got a plan, Dom, and it's all thanks to you."

Dominic called after her. "Great - but just leave me out of it when the cops come calling, 'kay?"

Zosia didn't even bother to dignify that with a reply.

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For most of the next day, Zosia mulled over what to do and whether to go through with what she had decided the previous night. Patients came and went, and she treated them quickly and professionally, but her real focus was internal. She had always been matter-of-fact and business like about her love life (or at least, she'd tried to be), and surely this was no different? It was merely a question of whether to go ahead or not.

Her plan was thus - she was turning into something of a mess at the moment, if she was completely honest. The positivity she had felt just a few short days ago had all but drained away, to be replaced with fatigue and anger. The fact she wasn't sleeping well was starting to take a toll. The possession of her mother's diary was something she had thought would help, but she'd been unable to face opening it yet. Her improving relationship with her father had stalled. What she needed was a distraction - and a new relationship was her favourite way of providing it. Well...that, and copious amounts of alcohol - but that would hardly help her fatigue, would it?

Since most of her previous relationships had ended badly - or in literal trips to the hospital - it was clear she would have to do something different this time. A same-sex relationship seemed the obvious way to mix things up a bit. Zosia had never been afraid to try new things, so why not? Doctor Cowley was clearly up for it, as she had made apparent many times, so she was the obvious candidate.

Of course, it was entirely possibly that Doctor Cowley perhaps didn't see things in quite so impersonal a way as her, but Zosia would be entirely up front about what she was doing at the start. She believed in being entirely honest about what she was expecting from a relationship or hookup. No surprises or misunderstandings - they just made things more complicated.

Her mind made up, Zosia made an immediate beeline for Radiology when her break came around. As she walked through the door, Miranda Cowley looked up and grinned as she saw who it was.

"Oh, Zosia..." She leaned back in her chair and grinned, running a hand through her purple-streaked bob of brown hair. "You should have called to let me know you were coming. I look a right state, and I always try to look great for my favourite F1."

Zosia crossed her arms and shrugged. "You look pretty much the same as ever, to be honest."

"Ouch! I think...well, I'm going to take that as a compliment." Miranda glanced behind Zosia. "So, did you come down her just to tease me - as usual - because I can't see a patient, and I don't remember you sending me anything recently." She grinned. "Obviously you've come down just to enjoy my scintillating company - for which I can't blame you..."

"Actually," interrupted Zosia, "I was just wondering what you were doing once your shift ended."

Miranda's smiled faded, replaced with a look of confusion. "Why..?" she asked carefully.

"I thought you and I could go get some dinner." Zosia kept her tone deliberately casual. Playing the unattainable ice queen was usually her best way of getting dates. "I mean, if you're not busy, that is."

"Like a date?"

"Not like a date. A date."

Miranda stared at her in silence for a few moments, clearly processing something in her head. Finally she spoke: "Are you fucking with me?"

"Not yet." Zosia clocked her head to one side and affected a half-smile. "Buy me dinner, though, and we'll see..."

Miranda's mouth opened and closed with no sound coming out. Zosia looked at her for a few seconds, then made to leave. "Oh well, if you're not interested..."

"Wait!" Zosia turned back around to see Miranda on her feet, her arm outstretched as if to stop Zosia from leaving. "Do you like Japanese food?"

"I love Japanese food."

"Okay." Miranda nodded nervously. "Okay. So you know that Japanese place in town - on Canton Street?" On Zosia's nod, she continued. "So I'm thinking...you meet me there after work - about nine?"

"Sounds delightful."

Miranda's full lips curled up into a wide smile. "Great! So...um...I will see you there, then."

"Looking forward to it." Zosia turned and began walking out the door. "See you there - and put on your dancing shoes - it's going to be a late one, I'm sure." As the door closed behind her, she allowed herself a smile. This was already working just as well as she'd planned.

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Choosing the right outfit for a first date was a complicated, involved process and one that Zosia put a lot of time and effort into. After all, first impressions were important, and even if the would-be partner had seen you before, they hadn't really seen you yet until the date. They may have seen you at work, as a picture on a web site, or as a passenger on a train, but the first glimpse of someone on a date was different, and if they got a bad impression then, well...the rest of the date was a write-off.

It was late spring, and quite warm, so sweaters and scarves were out - a pity, as Zosia always felt she quite suited them. Long dresses or skirts were also out. She briefly considered going casual, with simple t-shirts and jeans, but that wasn't really her. Plus, going in either extreme - either too casual or too formal - was rarely a good idea in her experience.

After much deliberation, Zosia settled on a dark bottle green sleeveless drop-waist short dress, with ruffled tiers that showed off her legs quite well. It was high-necked, but that was fine - after all, she didn't have much cleavage to show off, if she was being completely honest. Footwear was a simple black pair of heeled sandals - she'd always thought her legs were her best feature, so why not accentuate them?

With her hair down to her shoulders and styled so that it curled slightly towards the ends, and a simple pair of sunglasses to complete the look, she felt she looked pretty damn good, without meaning to seem immodest.

The restaurant itself was located in the centre of Holby itself - Zosia had never been there before, but it had a good reputation. It certainly had a striking aesthetic - parts of it seemed carved out of stone, other parts seemed to be made of brushed metal walls. Small pools of water and various plants were dotted around, adding to the ambience. Open timber work partitions divided up the various parts of the restaurant, including, Zosia noted with approval, a very well stocked sake bar. If this was the sort of place Miranda liked to dine in, then clearly Zosia had made the right choice in picking her.

The radiologist in question didn't seem to have arrived yet, so Zosia got a table, ordered some sake from the bar, and took a seat. She was just setting her purse down when she heard a familiar voice exclaim a 'wow!' She looked up to see Miranda standing in front of the table, looking down at her.

"Sorry I'm late," she said breathlessly, as Zosia stood up to let Miranda kiss her on the cheek in greeting. Miranda held out her hands towards Zosia. "Look at you! You look...I mean, you look great in scrubs, but this is something else."

Zosia blushed slightly. "Thank you. You're looking pretty good yourself," she commented, giving Miranda the once over. She was dressed in folded combat boots, distressed jeans and a simple black cami, with a lightweight bolero jacket over it. The bolero was mostly white, covered with various pieces of black lace and pictures of red roses. She was accessorizing with various bead and metal bracelets on her left arm, and a small gold necklace completed the look. It wasn't Zosia's style, but it suited Miranda down to the ground. She looked great.

Miranda sat down. "I dunno, I feel a little underdressed."

"Relax. You look great." Zosia called over a waiter, and Miranda ordered drinks, menus arrived, and the two women started perusing them. A silence fell - the sort of awkward silence that fell when two people who didn't know each other that well were both trying to think of ways to kick start the conversation.

It was Miranda who broke it, dark brown-green eyes peering at Zosia from beneath her fringe. "So," she asked lightly, "not that I'm complaining or anything, but I do have to wonder - I've been flirting with you for months, and I was totally sure you were straight and that this - " She gestured to the restaurant. " - was never going to happen. What changed?"

Zosia took a sip of her sake. "Can't a girl change her mind?" At Miranda's quizzical eyebrow, she gently licked some excess sake from her lips and placed her glass back down. "All right - I felt like trying something new. Things...haven't really been working out for on the relationship front lately, and something had to change. I could really use some extra-curricular activities at the moment that aren't total disasters."

"Oh, so I'm your experiment?" asked Miranda, a look of annoyance on her face. "You really know how to make a girl feel special."

"No, no," said Zosia quickly. "That came out wrong - I just...well, you seem smart and funny, and I knew you'd be fun to go to dinner with, so you were the obvious person to...oh god, this is sounding worse, isn't it?"

Miranda grinned. "Relax, Zosh, I'm messing with you - it's just a date. I'm not expecting a proposal or anything at the end of the night. I think my philosophy is pretty much the same as yours - we'll just have some fun tonight, see where it goes - no pressure, yeah?"

Zosia took a breath. "Sure."

"See?" Miranda thanked the approaching waiter for her drink, and took a sip. "You're right - I am fun to go to dinner with."

Menus scanned, they both made their orders and watched as the waiter left before turning back to each other. "Speaking of relationships," said Miranda. "And by the way - I'm not much for mincing words."

"Oh, me neither."

"So I hear. Anyway, speaking of relationships, can you put paid to a rumour for me? Is it true that there was a patient on Keller that came in after you tied him to a bed, force-fed him Viagra, told him you were going to ruin him for all other partners, then fucked him to the point of hospitalisation?"

Zosia flushed bright red. "That's not...well, it's a half truth."

"A half truth? Jesus!" Miranda giggled. "Gosh, I made the right choice in coming here tonight!"

"I'd ask how you know that," sighed Zosia, "but I think I already know the answer. Thanks, Uncle Jessie."

"Not the most discreet of people...and kind of a dog, too. He's got quite the reputation among the female staff members."

"Yes, that sounds like him..."

"Anyway, I'm very glad that you decided to go the dinner route this time, given your apparent usual methods for picking people up."

Zosia shrugged. "It was that or give in to that guy in the lab who keeps sending me dick pics."

"I wouldn't feel so special - he does that to most people."

"I'm hurt!" Zosia affected a mock-tragic pose. "I thought I was his one and only obsession."

"How that guy still has a job, I don't know."

"His dad's on the board." Zosia shrugged. "Not that I can really talk. Anyway, at the risk of sounding completely self-obsessed, do tell me what else people in the hospital have been saying about me. I'm sure being the daughter of the CEO must inspire lots of juicy, juicy gossip."

"Well, there's several conflicting rumours flying around about you. One is that you're a coddled daddy's girl who uses her relationship to steal all the good operations and goes crying to him when you don't get your way. I, for one, don't think that's the case, because I've seen you two together, and I'm not saying that the atmos is frosty, but my breath mists up whenever you two are around."

"Okay." That wasn't a surprise to Zosia, but it still stung - she hated the idea of using her father to get ahead, and was annoyed that people thought she did it. "So that's one. Any others?"

Miranda smiled. "You're a glutton for punishment."

"So people tell me..."

"There's the one about you, Digby and Copeland being locked together in some weird threesome thing. That's...more believable, actually, but I'm guessing it's not entirely true?"

"Arthur and I...occasionally. But not anymore. Dom and I...no. Arthur and Dom...not yet. It wouldn't surprise me, though."

"How do you live with Copeland, anyway? Guy's weird."

"I find him fascinating. He lies with such ease and practise...like no-one else I've ever met. It's like...he doesn't even have to think about his lies. They just come so naturally to him."
"Couldn't you find him fascinating from a distance? I feel like he's a serial killer in training."

Zosia cocked her head to one side. "How sweet - are you worried about me?"

Miranda shrugged. "Do you know how boring radiology is? If you get slaughtered, I'm not going to have your visits to look forward to. I'll be catatonic." She took another sip of her drink. "And, of course, the most popular rumour is that you're an ice-cold bitch who strides through the hospital like she owns the place, breaking all manner of hearts in the process."

"What do you think about that one?"

Miranda laughed, and lowered her head. Her eyes flicked upwards to meet Zosia's and she grinned. "Just my type, luckily."

Zosia blushed again, momentarily lost for words. At that point, thankfully, the waiter arrived with their food, sparing her of having to think of something to say. As the waiter busied himself with laying out their dishes, Zosia kept stealing glances over at Miranda, who was clearly doing the same, and they exchanged awkward smiles. Zosia hoped she wasn't still blushing - that was quite unlike her.

After the waiter had gone, Zosia lifted a spicy tuna roll to her lips and said: "So...enough about me. Tell me a little about you."

Miranda shrugged. "Not much to tell, really. Moved here from London about two years ago. Live with a roommate. Radiologist. Single - " She winked. " - but looking. No siblings. That's about it. Sorry - have kind of a boring life."

"I wish I had a boring life," sighed Zosia quietly.

"Yeah..." Miranda stared at her sea bass for a moment, then hesitantly said: "Um...I heard about your Mum. I'm sorry - that must have been really tough for you." At Zosia's silence, she held up her hand. "Sorry - I'm crossing a line..."

Zosia shook her head quickly. "No, no - you're fine. Sorry - it's still hard to talk about. It's..." Lost for words, she looked off into the distance for a moment. "I just..."

Miranda reached over and took Zosia's hand. "It's okay. You don't have to explain. I lost my Dad a couple of years back. I know what it feels like."

Do you? Zosia wanted to snap, but she stopped herself. "How did...?"

"Car accident," said Miranda quietly. I came home one night and I just found Mum at home by herself, and as soon as I came in, I just knew..."

Involuntarily, Zosia gave a small sob, and Miranda squeezed her hand. "It's okay," she said softly. "It gets better, it really does."

Zosia squeezed her hand in return. "Thank you," she whispered. After a few moments of that, she withdrew, and wiped her eyes, letting out a deep breath. "Sorry...I don't know..."

"You don't have to explain." Miranda smiled. "Anyway...is it just me or is it getting a bit heavy in here?" She looked at Zosia, her tone light, but expression querying if Zosia wanted to change the subject.

Zosia very much did. "Definitely. So tell me - any other interesting gossip going on around the hospital?"

Miranda leaned forward. "You know Teo - that new pharmacist on AAU?"

"Yes..."

"Fucking Tressler. Or at least, they have at some point."

"Harry Tressler? Nonsense. She'd never go for someone that smarmy."

"Uh-huh? I saw them all over each other in Albie's. This is first-hand info."

"Wow." Zosia sat back in her chair. " Colour me surprised. Though he is kind of pretty."

"Not really my type."

"Don't worry - I'd never actually go there."

"I knew you were a woman of taste."

Zosia frowned. "Isn't she married to that new hotshot guy down there? De Luca?"

"Oh yes," said Miranda with some relish. "Almost makes me want to transfer down there to see the fireworks when he finds out."

"You're terrible," said Zosia with a grin. "Oh well, he seems like a smug prick anyway - I can't have that much sympathy for him."

"You're a cold woman, March."

"That's why you like me," said Zosia, catching Miranda's eyes again, and giving her a wicked grin.

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The two women continued their dinner, enjoying the fine foods and drink that the restaurant had to offer, punctuating the meal with conversations about work, about their lives outside of work, their likes and dislikes, and the many other things that people fill their interactions with. With each new beat of the conversation, Zosia found more and more things to like about Miranda Cowley - she was razor-sharp in her wit, with a snarky side Zosia found immensely appealing. She was also subtly compassionate, recognising whenever the conversation strayed into areas that Zosia felt uncomfortable with and immediately changing the subject. They had a similar outlook on the world, too. Although she was enjoying the date, Zosia found herself slightly regretting the fact that she hadn't agreed to go out with her before. However, there was plenty of time to rectify that mistake.

And so, after some hours of excellent food even better sake, they found themselves walking through the city centre, not going anywhere in particular - simply enjoying each other's company. It wasn't a warm night, but it was pleasant - there was a refreshingly cool breeze.

Miranda started rummaging through her pockets. "I need a fag," she mumbled, glancing up at Zosia. "You don't mind, do you?"

Zosia shook her head.

Miranda slipped a cigarette between her lips and lit it, inhaling deeply. She looked over to Zosia, smoking drifting from her mouth and nostrils. "You want one?"

"I gave up," said Zosia uncertainly.

"I know that tone," grinned Miranda. "You really want one, don't you?"

Zosia opened her mouth to protest, but nothing came out. She knew that she shouldn't, but it was so tempting.

"Go on - it's going to drive you crazy if you don't"

"I...okay." Zosia never had been very good with resisting temptation. She took one from Miranda, and leaned over to let her light it. The first drag was, despite all her medical knowledge to the contrary, heaven.

"No-one ever quits for good, not really." Miranda shrugged. "I mean, you always hear about tons of people that do, but I think most of them are just faking."

Zosia exhaled. "Or it could be that you think that to make yourself feel better about your lack of willpower."

"I'll admit, that seems more likely...but I like my theory better." Miranda took a drag. "So...what now?"

Zosia thought for a moment. Normally on a date, she'd have already manhandled her partner back to their place, but this felt different. She'd truly enjoyed the conversation at dinner - a rarity for her dates - and was feeling slightly apprehensive about what would happen next. Was it that she wanted this to be different, or was she simply nervous because it was another woman - something she had no experience with? She thought about what she truly wanted at this stage, and despite her apprehension, she liked the idea of going back to Miranda's. Would Miranda feel the same way? There was only one way of finding out. "How about we head back to yours, grab a bottle of wine..."

Miranda sighed. "Can't - sorry. My roommate has a date of her own tonight - I would have kicked her out, but this was kind of short notice, and I felt bad..."

Was that true, or was Miranda just making up a story because she didn't want Zosia over and wanted to let her down gently? Well, there was always plan B. "Okay...how about mine?"

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "Won't Digby & co. be there?"

"No...Arthur will be in bed already, and Dom was going out clubbing. The place is clear, I promise." Zosia took a drag on her cigarette nervously. "I mean, if you want to. I'm not forcing you or anything - if you want to go home or something, that's totally fine with me."

"Relax, Zosh." Miranda placed a hand on her shoulder. "I am totally cool with the idea of going home with you. I just didn't want to, you know, make you feel uncomfortable or anything."

Zosia smiled nervously. "So...now that we've established that we both would quite like to go back to mine, how about we do?"

Miranda gestured vaguely ahead of her. "Lead on."

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The front door creaked open, despite Zosia's best efforts to remain quiet. A vague memory of Arthur asking her to get some oil for the hinges flashed through her mind, but she'd been pretty hung over at the time, so she hadn't really processed it. Only the hall light was on - the rest of the flat was in darkness. This was good - it meant Digby had indeed retired for the night and Dom wasn't in. Not that she minded any potential awkwardness, but she didn't want to scare Miranda off. "It's clear," she whispered, and let Miranda in, closing the door behind her - with another loud creak as she did so.

Miranda crept into the hall and looked around. "Nice place," she whispered.

"Thank you." Zosia gestured to the kitchen. "Do you want to get some wine?"

Miranda raised an eyebrow. "Do you really want any wine?"

Zosia looked at her, and grinned. "Not really. You?"

"Which one's your room?"

"Why...?"

"I thought we could go in there." Miranda affected an innocent look. "You know, just so we don't wake up Doctor Digby."

"You're so thoughtful!" Zosia said sarcastically, showing Miranda into her bedroom, and shut the door behind them.

Miranda sat down on the bed, glancing around the room. "I'm going to be nice and assume that it only looks like chaos in here. I'm sure you have a fantastic filing system that only makes sense to you."

Zosia leaned back against the closed door. "You're not a neat freak, are you? Because if you are...well, we should probably just call this off right now."

"Don't worry." Miranda sprawled back onto the bed. "I like messes."

"With me, that's almost certainly a prerequisite."

"So..." Miranda hunched herself up on her shoulders. "One thing before anything else happens..."

"Yes?"

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to, okay? At any point, if you feel uncomfortable, just say so, and we'll stop."

Zosia nodded. "I know - thank you."

Miranda's face curled up into a smile and she got up from the bed, walking over to Zosia, who was still leaning back against the door. She reached out her hands, gently stroking Zosia's face. Miranda's skin was smooth and cool - it brought goosebumps to Zosia's arms. She was a few inches shorter than Zosia, so she tilted her head upwards, leaned in, and lightly brushed her lips against Zosia's.

Zosia leaned into the kiss, pressing her lips against Miranda's, parting her own slightly, feeling Miranda doing the same. She felt Miranda's tongue gently slip into her mouth, intertwining with her own. Zosia could taste the smoke and alcohol on Miranda, mixed with an indefinable taste that nonetheless was incredible.

She felt Miranda's hands running through her hair, wrapping round her head, pulling Zosia closer to her, deepening the kiss. Desire burned through Zosia, and she did the same, pulling Miranda to her, trying to sate the desperate need growing between her legs.

The kiss was broken by Miranda, pulling back just a few inches, just enough so Zosia could still feel Miranda's hot breath on her face. "Is this okay?" Miranda whispered breathlessly.

Panting, Zosia nodded, and they fell together again. In between kisses, Zosia kicked off her shoes, and Miranda did the same. Zosia slid Miranda's jacket off her shoulders, and struggled with her top, as Miranda's hands snaked behind Zosia's back, searching for the zip to her dress. The impossibility of trying to do both, while still showering each other with passionate kisses, finally hit them both, and they paused, looked in each other's eyes, and started giggling.

Miranda stepped backwards, flopped down onto the bed, pulled her top off, and started to pull her jeans off, as Zosia let her dress fall to the floor, leaving them both in their underwear.

A moment of silence followed, as the two women each regarded the other's body. Miranda was curvier than her, Zosia noted. Where Zosia's stomach was flat, Miranda's had a slight swell to it. Where Zosia's hips were narrow, Miranda's were fuller, rounder. Where Zosia's breasts were small and pointed, Miranda's were larger, heavier. She was utterly gorgeous.

As Zosia was regarding Miranda's body, she noticed that the other woman was doing the same. For some reason, she suddenly felt a desire to cover herself. It passed quickly, and she did nothing, but the feeling was an unfamiliar one. She wasn't ashamed of her body and wasn't shy in the slightest, so why the reticence now? Maybe it was because she was used to being the aggressor in sex - she was always the one in control, the one on top. But here, now, she didn't feel like that. She was nervous, slightly unsure of what to do - it was a new experience for her. However, as she looked over to Miranda, she knew that it was an experience she desperately wanted.

Perhaps sensing Zosia's uncertainty, Miranda looked in her in the eyes. "Hey," she said softly. "Remember, you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"I know." Zosia paused. "I want this," she said in a low, almost yearning voice. "I really want this."

"Me too."

The two women gazed at each other for a moment, then fell together once more, surrendering themselves utterly to pleasure.