Chapter 13: We Have Ways Of Making You 'Stop' Talking

Her sleeping mind was struck by a sudden absence as her hand reached out but found only emptiness, and vague warmth where once there had been a comforting presence. 'Not again... ' her mind muttered, and she pondered the thought for a moment as a sound filtered its way in. The door was slowly creaking open.

"Miri?" Misty inquired, once again struck by a sense of d≠j... vu she couldn't place as she opened her eyes partway and smiled as Miranda stood before her with a tray.

"I thought you might be hungry," her lover explained, and Misty almost laughed when she caught sight of what Miranda was wearing.

"Hey," she teased, sitting up and moving a pillow to support herself, "Isn't that-?"

"The blouse your sister gave me?" Miranda finished Mirthfully, glancing down at the all too feminine looking garment, whose soft white silk she had to admit felt nice against her skin, "Yeah. And Bob said it too, eh."

"Said what?"

Miranda sighed, setting the tray down upon its metal legs so that it straddled Misty. "'Miranda! You look like a girl! What happened?!'" she muttered exasperatedly, "But I thought I might as well."

"Well you know it looks good on you," assured Misty, inhaling the pleasant scent of the freshly baked crescent rolls Bob had cooked up, and wasting no time taking a sip of the orange juice Miranda had made to replace the last batch she'd all but gone through.

"Thanks," the courier replied shyly, feeling a little self-conscious as she sat down beside Misty and took one of the rolls, "I thought, you know... It might be nice to try something different."

"Well just don't cut your hair!" warned Misty with a laugh, teasingly ruffling it as Miranda gave her a sheepish grin around the roll she was eating.

"I doubt they could make a pair of scissors that sharp," she mused, brushing the flaky crumbs off her denim jeans and onto the floor, "So, um, are you ready for today?"

"The challenge?" Misty inquired, trying some of her omelet and finding it almost as good as Bob's lasagna.

"That too," Miranda replied pensively, "I meant with my Mom. She still wants to talk to you."

Misty nodded, finding her breakfast far too distracting. "I'll admit your mom's a little intimidating," she said between bites, "But hey, fear is a weapon, right? And its best not to let yourself be its victim."

"My mom's not a ghost-type," Miranda laughed.

"Same principle," Misty shrugged, "I just have to be myself, and be confident. I've noticed something else too."

"Oh?"

"You and your mother are alike in some ways. So if you like me, then chances are, she will too."

"If she chooses to trust you," Miranda replied, glancing out the window as a sudden nervous chill struck her.

"Why wouldn't she?" asked Misty, her tone sounding bewildered for a moment, "I've never done anything to make her suspicious."

Miranda nodded. "I know," she explained with a wary sigh, "But she's cautious. Too many people in her life have caused her problems, and I guess the stress of running the Company just adds to that. A lot of clients try to take advantage of her because of her disability. They seem to think she's weak minded because of it, but she's used to putting them in their places. And as funny as it may sound, my Mother really didn't trust my Father when they first met either, so don't take it too personally."

Misty smiled at the thought. "Was he anything like you?" she inquired.

Miranda chuckled. "Actually," she replied reminiscently, "He was a bit like you."

"Me?" Misty blinked.

"Yup," said Miranda with a slow nod and a bemused smile, "An extrovert. Full of life, and a certain indiscernible quality that makes people like you for no explainable reason. Something that goes beyond reason, and makes you believe in things like love at first sight."

"Was it?" Misty inquired softly, her hunger sated as she looked into Miranda's thoughtful gray eyes.

"He said so," Miranda teased, leaning over giving her beloved a playful kiss.

Misty sighed, shaking her head as she moved the empty tray down onto the floor and turned onto her side as Miranda looked on adoringly. "That's not answering my question, dear," she said, finally free of the distraction of Bob's cooking.

Miranda looked thoughtful for a moment, letting out a slow breath as she searched her memories, and the lingering feelings of the day they'd first met. "I don't know," she replied honestly, "I think that I was just overcome by the need to get you out of a bad situation. That and, well... You're not exactly unattractive, dear."

"Gee, thanks," Misty laughed, moving closer until their noses slid past each other and Miranda's eyes took up nearly her entire field of view, "And you're not exactly hideous either!"

Miranda smirked, glancing away as she blushed. "Sorry," she replied, "I just don't want you thinking I'm completely superficial."

"Only a little?" Misty teased, kissing her playfully before leaning back and giving her lover a thoughtful look, "Hey, you know, I just realized something."

"What's that?"

"That I've been sitting here completely naked for the last while, and here you are fully clothed."

Miranda smiled, wetting her lips nervously as she met Misty's gaze. "I guess I just have that quality," she confessed, "Of making people feel comfortable around me. But if you'd like..." Miranda's tone changed subtly as she looked up over the top of her glasses at Misty, her fingers slowly undoing the first button of her blouse, "... I could always join you?"

"I- I don't think we'd have time," Misty whispered in amusement, her eyes going wide and her pulse quickening as Miranda leaned forward, steadily undoing buttons at a leisurely pace as she maintained eye contact.

"I'm sure we have at least a little while," Miranda replied, glancing down at Misty's bare chest and wondering if the goose bumps along her skin had anything to do with the light chill in the room as she herself felt uncomfortably warm in her Winter jeans.

"Just a while?" her lover inquired, swallowing nervously in anticipation as Miranda's blouse hung open except for the portion she'd tucked into her pants, her breasts still bound by her bra, but seeming no less inviting.

"Just until my Aunt gets here," the courier continued, slowly moving forward and reaching for the clasp at the front of her bra, "And I'm certain that she's quite distracted at this moment. Just as we are..."

Misty nodded slowly, breathing through her mouth, and feeling a pleasant chill run down her spine as Miranda undid the clasp with a simple movement of her thumb and index finger, letting the garment fall against the insides of the blouse.

"You know," she commented, looking up to meet Miranda's gaze, "White really is your colour."

"That depends," chuckled Miranda, moving to straddle her lover, and letting her long dark hair spill down over her shoulders, "Is it white for innocence, or death?"

"'Petite mort'?" Misty breathed as her lover loomed over her, a far more pleasant distraction than Bob's breakfast had been.

"Like in Shakespeare," agreed Miranda, as Misty ran her fingers through the courier's dark, silky tresses, "Whenever a character said, 'I die', it was just his own personal inside joke."

"Mmm, you bards are such delightful perverts," Misty purred, causing Miranda to catch her breath as her tongue slid lightly across the courier's nipples.

"Misty, Misty, Misty..." she sighed bowing her head and panting into a pillow as her lover gently nibbled her nipples and reached out to slowly pull down the fly of Miranda's jeans, "Wha-? I-!"

Misty chuckled in reply, her fingers easily undoing the button of Miranda's pants without having to look before her hand slid within, seeking out the warmth of the courier's womanhood through her panties.

"Breakfast was nice, and I thank you for it," said Misty as Miranda shuffled closer, making it easier for her lover's hand to touch her, and shivering as she felt Misty's fingers slide down across her labia, "But you're what I'm really hungry for..."

Miranda brought her head back in time for Misty to lean in and kiss her. "I- I love you," she managed, lowering herself to be closer to Misty.

"I know," Misty replied teasingly, feeling Miranda's arms go about her shoulders and lips press firmly against her own in response to Misty's hand sliding beneath the protective layer of cotton to touch Miranda's skin directly, "And now its my turn to return all those favors your forever doing me."

Miranda only nodded, resting her head against the pillow as Misty's free hand slid the courier's jeans down over the rise of her bottom and Miranda became suddenly very aware of just how vulnerable she felt. It hardly mattered, though; her body didn't seem to mind the fact that anyone walking in would get an eye full. Instead, Miranda concentrated on the feeling of her undergarments being slid down as well before Misty's middle finger slowly moved back and forth across her labia, seeking entry with a patient touch.

"Don't move," whispered Miranda, convulsing suddenly as Misty's finger slid inside her all at once, her inner walls immediately tightening, trapping her lover for a moment as a pleasant feeling spread through her.

"Is this okay?" Misty inquired, her voice sounding concerned.

"Yes," Miranda assured, laughing a little as she moved her hips down against her lover's fingers, urging Misty to continue, "I- I'm just tense. Please, don't stop..."

"As you wish," Misty assured, her fingers going through Miranda's hair as she kissed her, slowly rocking her other hand back and forth so that her middle- finger slid in and out as her palm and other fingers gently rubbed against her lover's womanhood.

"I love you," came Miranda's shivering tone a moment later, giving Misty desperate kisses along her neck before burying her face in the pillow to muffle her cries of ecstasy, her whole body beginning to shake, as her knees felt as though they'd give out.

Misty smiled; closing her eyes and basking in the odd thrill it gave her to make her lover loose control. To have the power to bring such overwhelming joy to someone she loved very much. Even when Miranda's arms wrapped around her tightly, clinging to Misty almost desperately as her knees tightened about her hips, Misty still felt in control. It was still by her hand, now sliding a second finger to join the first, covered in Miranda's wetness as her lover moved her hips to desperately meet the oncoming penetrations, that Miranda was reaching the point of orgasm. Misty knew that she could stop at any time, and Miranda would understand. It was a comforting feeling, knowing that she was finally in control of her life, and that someone finally appreciated what she could do for them.

Miranda made a loud, gasping cry into her pillow, a thunderous release that had been a long time coming. Her hands gripped Misty's shoulders desperately, as she literally bit her pillow to muffle the screams, her hips moving almost independently of her will as Misty went from the slow, patient movement to a faster, more frantic pace.

Misty soon found the tightening grasp of Miranda's inner walls practically holding her fingers in place, and decided instead to reach back with her thumb, making slow circles across her lover's clit as Miranda pulled her onto her side, gritting her teeth and making incomprehensible noises that sounded wonderful to Misty's ears.

"Don't hold back, my love," she whispered, refusing to halt her motion as Miranda finally met her gaze.

The courier's stormy gray eyes seemed distant, her expression contorted yet beautiful as she looked back at Misty as though she were the only thing that mattered in the entire universe. Miranda leaned forward, awkwardly kissing Misty as her arms scrambled for purchase, desperate to hold her lover closer as her mind swam in the elation of small, but repeated orgasms that besieged her mental defenses.

"Do you want me to stop?" Misty teased, smiling as the expression on Miranda's face changed, her eyes looking on pleadingly as Misty kissed her, watching in near fascination as Miranda writhed.

It was all the courier could to shake her head as she glanced down, watching Misty's fingers for a moment and feeling strangely amused by the sight of them sliding in and out of her before her mind gave in one final time.

Miranda's exclamation had little meaning in of itself, but the emotions behind it came across to clearly to Misty who felt both embarrassed and secretly excited as her lover's voice filled the room, and she had to wonder how soundproof the walls really were.

"I- I love you..." Miranda whimpered as she felt little other than a pleasant numbness where once there had been the wonderful friction of Misty's fingers sliding in an out of her.

"I love you too," Misty replied happily as Miranda shivered next to her, moving closer as Misty pulled her hand away and just held Miranda, "But, are you going to okay?"

Miranda's reply sounded a bit like a laugh as she tried to collect her scattered thoughts. "That was... That was..." she began, but the words refused to come to her as the pleasant lightheadedness, and tingle that still clung to her body like a second skin lingered.

"Your crying," commented Misty, her tone soft, sympathetic and happy as she brushed the tear from her lover's eye, "Are you sad?"

Miranda smiled shyly before leaning her head forward and kissing Misty gently. "I'm just so... Happy," she confessed, her voice sounding so vulnerable that all Misty could do was hold Miranda closer and gently rock them both back and forth.

"I love you, Miri," she repeated, not knowing what else to say as she pondered Miranda's nearly helpless condition, amazed and astounded at her own power. 'This is what "he" could have had, ' she mused with satisfaction, 'But now this pleasure I give belongs only to you, Miri... I just wish I had your eloquence so I could tell you how much I really love you.'

"That's all that I ask," Miranda whispered, holding Misty closer as her fingers moved affectionately through her lover's hair, "And yet, you always surpass my expectations."

Misty smiled, gazing searchingly into Miranda's eyes and idly wondering how they were ever going to collect themselves and be downstairs at the appointed time. 'Please don't interrupt, ' she thought, willing the sudden knocking on the front door downstairs to end, for Laurna to give them another hour. Another hour to just lie in Miranda's bed, holding her and being held by her, speaking without words of things that were far beyond them.

"We'd better get down there," said Miranda, her tone sad, but her smile still happy as she reluctantly sat up, looking disheveled with her long dark hair all over the place, and her blouse hanging loosely off one shoulder, undone to the last button and only barely containing her modesty. But even with her clothing in disarray, her eyes looking a little red, and the silly grin that refused to leave the courier's lips, Misty still looked up at her beloved, seeing Miranda as the most beautiful thing in all of Creation.

"Just tell me one thing, Miri."

"Yes?" the courier inquired, taking Misty's hand, holding her lover's gaze as though Misty were the center of her universe.

"Was this a perfect moment?"

Miranda closed her eyes, chuckling mirthfully at her own thoughts as her mind still stubbornly swam in the remnants of euphoria. "Yes, my love," she said honestly, though she giggled at her own words, "But then, every moment with you is perfect..."

Miranda lead Misty back downstairs to the dining room/kitchen with a touch of apprehension. There was something intangible in the air that bothered her, but she just couldn't place it, her mind still stubbornly refusing to think logically. And as she rounded the corner and glanced into the room, the feeling only grew stronger because of what she saw.

Vivian was seated next to her sister Laurna. The two were talking quietly over tea, the same way they always did right before Laurna did a reading. The round dining room table had only one more place setting, and was laden with a platter of Bob's shortbread cookies; the ones that could halt entire armies with their flavor.

"Good luck, dearest," whispered Miranda, squeezing Misty's hand as she leaned close to her ear, "This could get messy."

Misty glanced at Miranda and smirked. "Think so?" she asked, feeling slightly amused despite the seriousness of the situation, "Should I be worried?"

"Possibly," assured Vivian with a knowing smile, beckoning with a simple hand gesture, "Come, sit with us. Miranda, you're excused. Oh, and Bob should be waiting for you down by Route 12."

Miranda nodded, disliking the tone her mother was taking, but accepting it. She gave Misty's hand a final, reassuring squeeze and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I'll probably be at the Courier Club by the time you're done. Meet me there afterwards. Okay?"

"But-" began Misty, turning towards Miranda as the courier hurriedly walked down the hall and grabbing her coat before leaving the house, everything about Miranda echoing her nervous anxiety.

"Don't worry, deary," chuckled Laurna over her tea as the sound of the front door closing echoed ominously through the house, "We don't bite."

Their guest gave a weak, nervous smile as she turned back to the sisters and took the offered seat. "That's not what I'm afraid of," she chuckled, smiling to hide her sudden feeling of sudden abandonment.

"Then perhaps you should be," chuckled Laurna, soliciting a stern glance from her sibling.

"But seriously," continued Vivian, pushing her wheelchair back a bit before making her way around the counter to the squealing pot on the low stove, "we wanted to talk to you."

"A-about what?" inquired Misty, looking anywhere but Miranda's mother's strangely coloured eyes.

"About my daughter, actually," continued Vivian setting the kettle down on the edge of the table as she returned, "But I'm sure that you know that already."

"Why? Is there something I should know?"

"Perhaps a few things," replied Laurna, pouring hot water into a cup partially filled with tealeaves, "For instance, what are your intentions with Miranda?"

"My- My intentions?" stammered Misty, disliking the feeling of being crossed examined and scrutinized by anyone, even if they were Miranda's family.

"Yes," continued Vivian, as her sister slid the cup across the table to Misty, "Cookie?"

Misty caught the teacup and stared up in surprise at the plate of homemade shortbread cookies her hostess was suddenly offering her. "Um, sure."

"And?" inquired Vivian, raising an eyebrow as Misty took a cookie shaped like a gastly from the plate.

"And I'd have to say that I'm quite happy," she admitted thoughtfully, "I can't really say that I have 'intentions' beyond keeping things as they already are."

"I see," pondered Laurna, her elbows on the table so she could rest her small chin on her entwined fingers, "So you're all right with everything then? No complaints? Drink your tea dear, it's the blend you like."

Misty halted her reply for a moment, quickly realizing that the two were trying to keep her off balance. With a contemplative look, the water-trainer leaned back in her chair, munching her cookie and sipping her tea.