Radclyffe - Safe Harbor

Reese shook her head, smiling softly. "Dont be. Until now the only words that ever applied to me for certain were "recruit" and "soldier". I never gave anything else a thought."

Tory laughed. She congratulated herself on steering their relationship onto safer ground. She steadfastly ignored the way her pulse raced everytime she looked up to find Reeses disconcertingly appraising eyes upon her.

Chapter Thirteen

"So, tell me whats going on with you and our good doctor," Marge said as she lined up her shot. She stroked lightly through the cue ball and slid the nine ball into the side pocket.

"Nice shot," Reese commented as she balanced two fresh beers on the thin shelf that ran along the wall. "What do you mean, whats going on?"

Marge glanced at her briefly as she slowly circled the table, planning her next salvo. The slightly perplexed look on her young friends face told her the Deputy Sheriff really didnt know what the rumor mill had been churning out. "Word has it that the two of you are an item."

"Because we had dinner together?" Reese inquired as she carefully chalked the end of her custom cue.

" Romantic dinners. More than once, Im told," Marge added as she banked in her next shot. "And because she seems to spend a lot of time at your place. And because the two of you have been seen together at the Lavender Lounge the last two Saturday nights."

Reese was impressed with the accuracy of the local reporting.

"Sounds like youre information central," she commented dryly.

"Its the tea dance. Everybody trades news there. I keep trying to tell you what youre missing. And dont avoid the issue!"

Reese approached the table as Marge narrowly missed a tricky combination. Stretching her long form low to get the proper sight along her stick, she neatly deposited the three ball in the corner pocket.

"Were not an item. Were friends."

Marge waited. When nothing further seemed to be forthcoming, she sighed with exaggerated impatience.

"And? Do you have any intentions?" she asked as she watched Reese move gracefully around the table. It was looking like theyd need to go four out of seven for a fair match.

"She isnt interested," Reese said flatly. She gently tapped the cue ball the length of the table, angling the seven into the corner.

Marge raised a questioning eyebrow at the vague answer. "I was asking after your plans."

Reese leaned her stick against the edge of the pooltable, regarding her companion seriously as she reached for her beer.

"I cant answer that."

Marge looked peeved. "Well, if you dont want to tell me-"

"Thats not what I meant. I dont know how to answer your question."

"You like her, right?"

"Of course, shes terrific."

"And shes great looking, right?"

"Shes beautiful."

"So, at the risk of sounding like the crude old dyke that I am, have you given any thought to taking her to bed?"

Reese studied the foam on her beer. "Arent there a few steps you left out? Like - well, like courting?"

Marge coughed on the mouthful of beer she was swallowing. "God, you are priceless! Courting! If the girls in this town only knew what you were really like, youd have to beat them off with a stick!"

Reese asked cautiously, "What do they think Im like?"

"I think Carol from the Cheese Shop put it best. She said you were an impossibly good-looking, unapproachable butch who probably does the asking. And there's a fair number of women waiting for you to ask. Only I know that youre an old-fashioned romantic."

Reese smiled ruefully. "No, Marge -Im not that either. What I am is someone whos always been happy with my life just the way it is. I never thought to look for anything more. It never occurred to me there was anything more."

Marge started to protest, then grew quiet. At length she voiced what she initially had found inconceivable. "Youve never been with a woman, have you?"

"No."

"Oh, boy," Marge whistled. She looked at her suspiciously. "Youre not straight are you? Therell be hearts breaking all over town."

Reese looked away with a shrug.

"Tell me you dont know," Marge said in disbelief.

"Its not that simple," Reese stated. "Ive spent my life with men, many of whom I commanded. The rules are very clear, and very strict. I never had that kind of relationship with anyone. It never seemed to matter to me."

"What about- you know, sex -" Marge persisted.

"Ive had feelings -" Reese said, remembering with absolute clarity the way Tory had felt in her arms when she had innocently carried Tory into her house. She remembered the warmth of Torys fingers in hers at dinner, and the rightness of it. "The opportunity just never arose."

Marge simply shook her head. "Unbelievable. But you still havent answered my question about the doc. Do you have feelings , as you so delicately put it, for her?"

Reese picked up her stick and focused her attention back on her game. "It doesnt matter. Shes been hurt, she shouldnt be hurt again. Im the last thing she needs."

"Why?"

"Because she doesnt trust me not to hurt her."

Marge was well aware that Reese had avoided discussing her own feelings, and respected the unspoken barrier. But she still wasnt ready to let her completely off the hook. Left to her own devices, Reesed never figure out what she was about - or that sometimes women just needed you to keep trying. She didnt doubt that Tory King was cautious. Marge hadnt known her to date anyone the entire three years shed lived there. She also knew that sometimes rumors started because those on the outside looking in saw more than the people who were in the thick of it.

"So how about coming to the tea dance tomorrow? Its the fourth of July weekend. Youve never seen anything like it," she pressed.

Reese sighed. "You know Im working -"

"Right - and I know damn well youre still working splits with Smith. You can come to the tea and have plenty of time to sleep before the late shift.

Reese had refused thus far to accompany Marge to the popular afternoon event, somehow worried that it would conflict with her official position. To go dancing amidst the people she was supposed to be protecting seemed like the taboo of an officer fraternizing with the enlisted troops. She had to admit that excuse was getting a little thin. She lived in Provincetown - attending the dance wasnt likely to cause any greater stir than simply going out to dinner seemed to. And she did want to be personally familiar with as much of the unique communitys life as possible.

"Okay," she finally relented, "for a little while."

"Excellent," Marge enthused. "And Reese? Lose the uniform or youll have every woman in the place hanging on you."

**********

Marge looked her over with satisfaction when Reese met her at the gym at four-thirty the next afternoon. The white tank top displayed her impressive shoulders nicely; the tight faded jeans hung low on her slim hips. Not for the first time she felt the stirring of desire. Her new friend was all the more attractive because she obviously didnt know it. Marge was certain that Reese never noticed the open stares she received - in uniform or out. For her part, Marge simply enjoyed looking at her, knowing she would never act on it.

Reese regarded her quizzically. "What? Am I late?"

"Youre never late," Marge asserted dryly. "Come on, Sheriff. Lets go to the dance."

They could hear the music from two blocks away, and already the small dance floor was crowded. For two hours at the end of the day, after the beach and before the nights activities began, most of the towns inhabitants would make the pilgrimage to the Boatslip for the tea dance. There was a huge outdoor deck with tables overlooking the harbor, several bars, and a dance floor that never seemed big enough but somehow always managed to accommodate the crowds. The ratio was probably four to one men to women, and unlike in many other bars, everyone got along. The atmosphere was usually one of unrestrained enthusiasm.