~ Rumors ~ by BadSquirrel Disclaimers: This is an original work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, places or events is a complete and total accident. I only wish I knew these women and the town of Edgewater. In fact, if you know them, e-mail me at once. Content warning: There will be angst, sex, a little rough language and rampant lesbianism. If this is not your cup of tea, don't drink it. If you are not old enough to read this, you will be soon. This will still be here when you are older. If you live in a place where this is not legal...lock the door and have at it. Note: There is Spanish spoken in this story. I do not speak Spanish. Oh sure, I can count to ten if I'm not interrupted and I'm pretty sure I can order eggs, but Lord knows how they'll be served to me. Since I don't speak Spanish and didn't want to ask any of the very straight manly men at my day job to help me out, I used a free on-line translation service. I was so proud of myself. What did I know? It looked like Spanish. So I submitted the story. Turns out my translations bore about the same relation to Spanish as an omelet does to eggs. (I seem to keep bringing up eggs. Maybe I'm ovulating.) Anyway, I bow down to Webwarrior for unscrambling my omelet of Spanish, and Bardeyes for sending me the translations and letting me work them into the story. They rock. Any errors, however, are still my own. For those of us who don't speak this beautiful language, I've put the translated English at the end of the story. Caution: You can e-mail me if you feel so inclined, but don't expect a reply. Hell, I don't even reply to my family's e-mails. I'm a cranky, rude, insensitive bore and even when I think I should write back, I don't. It's just the way I am. Don't take it personally. E-mail address: [email protected] Chapter One It wasn't her fault she was late. Her last client had been overdue in picking up his dog after she had finished grooming it and her entire schedule had been thrown off. Then there had been rush hour traffic to deal with; which, even in a mid-sized city like Edgewater, could try the patience of even the most virtuous. She pulled up to the chain link fence surrounding the auto yard just as an older, grizzled man began to drag the gate closed. "Wait!" she cried. "Please! I'm just supposed to drop off my car." "What's yer name?" he asked suspiciously. "Hannah Reece. I was supposed to be here a half-hour ago, but my last client…" "Pull up o'er there," he pointed towards the office with a growl. "I kin take yer keys, but I'm ina hurry." Unsure if she was making a wise choice, but feeling committed to it already, Hannah drove to where he directed and locked up. She separated her car keys from her house keys as she walked back to the gate and handed them over. "Is there somewhere I can call a cab?" He stuck her keys in his pocket and pointed down the street to a bar. Without another word he turned to lock the gate. "Don't I need to do paperwork or something?" "Work order's already started," he said. "We'll call ya when she's ready." Hannah stood there in shock as he walked over to a pickup truck and drove away. The breeze created by his departure blew dirt into the air and made her cough. She looked wistfully through the fence to her car and wished she hadn't been so quick to leave it. With no closer alternatives, Hannah made her way down the street to The Sidewinder Bar. She had seen the bar too many times to count, but she had never actually been inside. Bracing herself outside the door for what she was sure would be a bar straight out of a nightmare, Hannah took a deep breath and stepped into the cool dark. Her eyes adjusted quickly to an old-fashioned beer bar: clean, but frazzled around the edges. It wasn't bad at all. Most of the faces at the bar turned to see who had let in the light and Hannah dropped her eyes in the hope it would make her invisible. She hated herself for being a wimp, but she made her way unobtrusively to the bar and tried to catch the bartender's eye. He didn't appear to be busy, but he took his time. "Do you have a payphone?" "It's out of order," he replied. "I need to call a cab." She fought the sound of desperation in her voice. "Where's the next closest one?" He looked thoughtful, then said, "You'd have to go back up on H Street to the Mini Mart on the corner of Esplanade." Hannah knew he was describing a twenty minute walk at least and her heart fell. "Or you can buy a drink," he grinned, "and I'll call you a cab." She didn't find him at all amusing and if she hadn't needed a phone so bad she would have been tempted to walk out. "Light beer," she ordered. He turned away and Hannah made a face at his back. Laughter halfway down the bar drew her eyes and she was surprised to realize that she knew that face. Not the name, but the face was one she had seen at many gay and lesbian events over the years. She was very butch: so butch that Hannah had thought her a man for some time. They ran in very different circles and did not seem to have close friends in common. The woman was quite tall, very lean and far more muscular than any woman Hannah had ever seen before. Now that she had a chance to see her up close she could see that it was only at a distance that she could be taken for a man. Her face was almost pretty in bone structure and she had an engaging smile. She also had striking blond hair that was cut very short and framed her face like a halo of light. Hannah felt strangely disappointed to see the cigarettes sitting in front of her. "You're such a jerk," the mysterious butch told the bartender. Hannah watched in surprise. "Man's gotta make a living," he retorted. "Well, you're the only man I know who can make a living on one beer." Sarcasm dripped from her voice. "Call the lady a cab, Pete. Make your mother proud." The teasing started in earnest with the bartender getting the worst of it from the other patrons as well. Hannah was embarrassed by the fuss and made sure to say 'Thank You' when he set her beer in front of her. He didn't answer, but he took her money quick enough. His next move was to grab an old-fashioned rotary phone and plunk it down on the bar in front of the mystery dyke. "If you care so much," he grumbled, "you call her a cab." There wasn't much Hannah could do but watch as the woman made the call. "Fifteen minutes," she called to Hannah as she hung up and leaned over the bar to put the phone back. "Thanks." She felt like she should introduce herself or something, but the blond went back to watching the news on the small TV above the bar. Having had their fun, everyone went back to what they had been at when she first walked in. She drank her beer quietly and tried not to start another scene. She couldn't help but wonder about the woman. She assumed that she had stuck up for her because she recognized her. Whatever her reason, Hannah was grateful. When the cab arrived, Hannah jumped up and covertly glanced at the blond woman just in time to catch a wink. She smiled involuntarily and ran out into the bright light to catch her ride. ~***~ "You're late?" Jay exclaimed as he leaned over to kiss her cheek. "And you've started drinking without us?" "I have had the afternoon from hell," she sighed as she dropped onto his sofa. "I was supposed to drop my car off for its tune up at 4:30, but I couldn't get there till a few minutes after five because my last client decided to stop for pizza on his way home. The traffic was terrible and I got there just as they were locking the gate. I can only hope that the Neanderthal who took my keys isn't the one who'll work on my car. Then I had to buy a beer in order to get a cab…" Hannah ran out of steam mid-sentence. "Suffice it to say I'm ready to be pampered. Where's Freddie?" "He called a few minutes ago and should be here any second. He had a last minute interview for the stylist position. What would you like to drink?" Hannah asked for beer since she had already started down that road and let herself get comfortable. She and Jay had a long history having gone to the local high school together.