Violence: Absolutely. Blood and guts and gore galore.

Subtext: Yup yup yup. It's the girl/girl love. Likely to remain PG-13, at most, as this sort of thing makes me blush.

It's Short: This is a very short story. I do not, in fact, intend to write any more at this time, so don't go expecting this to turn into some kind of epic adventure. I actually just wrote this really quickly while I was working on a few other writing projects.

Other: As I was not responsible for my conception, nothing you read here is actually my fault. Blame my parents.

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Janice Covington, Warrior Archaeologist narrowed her eyes as she took in the scene before her. Dr. Avery stood on a rocky boulder looking down at Janice, surrounded by his well-armed men. But Janice paid no attention to the thugs with the guns, for all of her attention was riveted to the woman in Avery's dastardly grasp.

"Give up, Dr. Covington," Avery's high-pitched voice shouted, carrying down into the valley where Janice stood defiantly. Her right hand flexed around the smooth handle of her gun, while her left grasped the Golden Fleece.

"No, don't do it, Janice!" Melinda Pappas said, her cultured southern voice holding a note of panic as she struggled against Avery, whose arm was around her neck. Avery merely tightened his grasp and pressed the barrel of his own gun into Melinda's temple.

"If you want your little friend to live, you will give me the fleece!" he shouted, spittle flying from his mouth.

Janice let a small smirk surface. This is just too easy, she thought. Six bad guys, six bullets. She lifted her left hand containing the fleece, and held it out to the side, as far as her arm would stretch, distracting Avery and his men from her gun. Without a word, she fired a single shot from the hip, missing Melinda's head by mere inches and lodging solidly in Avery's gun hand before he could react. Howling in pain and rage, he dropped the gun as the southern belle in his arms let out a high-pitched scream and swooned.

Cursing, Avery wrapped his hand in a handkerchief and glared at his startled men. "Don't just stand there!" he demanded. "Kill her." Avery pointed at Janice, smiling in triumph, knowing that this time he would have the last laugh. Then, the pain in his hand overpowered his joy at winning, and he grimaced.

Springing into action at his words, Janice executed a rolling dive towards the truck as Avery's men started to fire. As she rolled, Janice fired off two shots, killing two of the ruffians instantly. Still got it, she mused to herself, pleased with her marksmanship.

"You want to give up now, or later?" she called out, ducking behind the truck.

"You can't win, Dr. Covington," Avery called again, this time his voice laced with pain.

Janice popped up and fired two more shots, pausing a moment to watch the bullets sink into solid flesh. One of the guards fell, a precise hole right between his eyes, and the other fell as well, clutching at his bleeding stomach. As she ducked back down, a single bullet whizzed by her left ear. Good thing bad guys can't shoot.

Grabbing a stick found conveniently at her feet, Janice removed her hat and crept to the other end of the truck, still out of sight of the last guard and the crippled enemy archaeologist. She placed the hat on the stick, then cautiously raised it a few feet from her position, waiting for the gunshot. As soon as the goon fired, Janice popped up again, firing her last bullet into the surprised man's heart. Retrieving her hat and brushing it off, she placed it jauntily on her head, scooped up the fleece and advanced on Avery, uncoiling her whip.

Shocked at the dead bodies scattered around, Avery found himself frozen, mouth agape, the only sound breaking the silence the soft sounds of Janice calmly climbing the rocks. Realizing he must do something, Avery grabbed his gun with his left hand and knelt down to hold it to the unconscious southerner's head.

Janice cleared the last rock and stood ten feet from Avery's position, and her blood ran cold as she saw the beautiful Melinda, helpless on the floor with a gun held to her head.

"Give me the fleece, Janice," Avery said.

Pissed off, Janice flicked her wrist, wrapping the whip around Avery's neck, and pulled, yanking the man to his feet and causing him to drop his gun again as he staggered forward, unable to withstand Janice's strength.

Janice shifted her grip up the length of the whip and pulled again, until Avery was standing before her, his hands trying to gain purchase on the unforgiving leather impeding his ability to breathe.

"I don't like you, Avery," she said, pulling the man down to his knees. "You're a sniveling snot-nosed milquetoast poor excuse for an archaeologist and even poorer excuse for a man," she said, then let the man loose from the whip wrapped around his neck..

Avery gasped, falling forward onto one hand, his injured hand still around his neck. "You may have won this time, Janice," he started to say in a choked voice.

"Ah, Avery," Janice said, punching him across the face, sending him sprawling onto his back. "You're also a poor loser," she continued as he started to rise, wiping the blood from his lip gingerly with the back of one hand. Snarling, he threw himself at Janice, punching her in the gut. She returned the gut punch, unfazed by his attack, and continued speaking. "There's probably a million things I don't like about you." Smack. Thud. Pow. "But you know what pisses me off the most?" she inquired calmly, landing yet another punch on her nemesis. Avery continued to fight back, his ineffectual strikes being blocked more often than not, and the ones that landed not having any affect on the little powerhouse.

"What's that?" he asked, gasping.

"You," smack, "shouldn't," kick, "harm," grab, "ladies," twist. Pull.

Avery fell to his knees once again, clutching at his groin and making a noise that was high-pitched even for him. "You're no lady," he eventually ground out, eyes shut.

"I was talking about Melinda," Janice said, knocking him out with a swift boot to the head.

Janice stood over the fallen form of Avery, when her attention was diverted by Melinda's stirring. Immediately, Janice rushed to her side.

"Wha - what happened?" Melinda asked in her charming drawl, raising a hand to her head and trying to sit up.

"Easy there," Janice admonished, helping her up and laying her head in her lap.

"Avery!" Melinda gasped, sitting upright and vacating a disappointed Janice's lap.

"It's all right," Janice assured her. "I took care of Avery," she said flatly.

"Are you all right?" Melinda asked, turning to look at her beloved friend, checking her for injures.

"I'm just fine, Mel. Don't you worry," she assured, a familiar twinkle in her eyes. Melinda continued to check for injuries, running her hands all over Janice's body when Janice groaned softly at the sweet contact.

"You are hurt!" Melinda accused, frowning at Janice.

"No, Mel, really. I'm fine," Janice insisted.

"Where does it hurt?" Melinda asked softly.

Knowing that she wasn't going to get away with saying she was perfectly all right, Janice held her right hand, displaying her bruised knuckles from her fight with Avery to the concerned woman. "Well, I kind of pounded Avery a little," she said.

"A little!" Melinda exclaimed, noticing Avery's bruised form lying a few feet away. "Janice, you saved me," she said softly, taking the bruised hand in both of hers and pulling it towards her. "Here," she said briskly, scooting closer to Janice. "Let me kiss it and make it better." Suiting actions to words, Melinda brushed her lips along the tender knuckles, causing Janice's heart rate to accelerate and her breathing to become shallow.

"Thanks," she said hoarsely, attempting to pull back her hand.

"No, Janice," Melinda said, looking into her green eyes. "There must be something I can do for a hero like you," she simpered, suddenly blushing from her bold actions. "Does it hurt anywhere else?" she asked quietly.

 "Um, here," Janice said softly, raising her left hand to touch the corner of one bruised lip. Melinda blushed harder, but leaned in and pressed her lips against the indicated spot at the corner of Janice's mouth, gasping slightly when Janice turned her head and pressed her lips more firmly to Melinda's own.

Taking the tall southern beauty into her arms, Janice finally kissed the woman she had dreamed about for so long. Gently, she brought their lips together again and again before lightly tracing the outline of those sweet southern lips with her tongue.

"Oh Janice," Melinda breathed, her head swimming as she opened her mouth. Janice moaned as her tongue found entrance, delving into the depths of Melinda's mouth, finding her tongue with her own. Patiently, Janice coaxed the shy woman's tongue into her own mouth, where she sucked on it gently, causing the blushing beauty to moan with delight. Tentatively at first, and then with greater confidence, Melinda explored Janice's mouth as the archaeologist had explored her own.

The kiss went on, growing more and more passionate and heated, Janice's hands roaming over the beautiful body before her. Slowly, she slid her right hand up from it's place and Melinda's waist and cupped one generous breast.

"Oh, yes Janice," Melinda encouraged as Janice kneaded the breast in her hand softly and started trailing kisses down the strong column of her throat.

"Janice," Melinda said, and Janice paused in her explorations at the strange tone. It sounded like the southerner was attempting to get her attention, when she already had it.

"Janice," Melinda said again, more impatiently this time. That's strange, Janice thought as the southerner continued to writhe and moan in her arms, arching into her hand on her breast.

"Janice!" Melinda Pappas called, finally grabbing the bed sheets with firm hands and pulling, accidentally tumbling a started archaeologist from her cot and onto her floor.

Janice looked around the tent, completely disoriented, then looked up at the woman who had circled around the cot and was standing over her.

"Janice, are you all right?" she asked, bending down beside her friend. Janice had been groaning loudly in her sleep, and it had sounded like a very bad dream. Not knowing exactly what to do for her friend, Melinda had resolved to wake her up. The way she had been carrying on made it sound like it was a very bad nightmare, indeed. Her attempts to call out to the archaeologist or gently shake her had not worked, so in desperation and panic, she had tossed Janice from her bed and onto the floor.

Groaning in frustration at being rudely awakened from an amazingly good dream just as it was getting really good, Janice sat up rubbing her hands over he face. Peering around, she realized it was still dark out and was likely even still the middle of the night.

"What in the hell did you wake me up for?" Janice barked, angry at the interruption and a little embarrassed she had been dreaming such things about her friend.

"Oh, I'm sorry Janice," Melinda said helping her to her feet. "I didn't mean to dump you out of the cot," she hurriedly explained.

Janice shook her head to clear it and blinked her bleary eyes several times before looking into the concerned face disconcertingly close to her own. "Fine," she said, accepting the apology. She hated fighting with Mel. "But why did you wake me up?" she asked again, briskly turning away from the contrite woman and returning the sheets to the bed in a heap.

"You were having a nightmare," Mel explained. "It sounded awful, and I just couldn't bear the thought of you having a bad dream," she got out in a rush. "I tried to call you and shake you, and that didn't work, so I was trying to rattle the sheets a little, but ended up dumping you on the floor. I guess I don't know my own strength," she finished quietly, looking down at the floor and biting her lip, unable to meet her friend's eyes.

"It's all right, Mel," Janice said, sitting on the edge of her cot and running her hand through her hair, blushing that her friend had mistaken an erotic dream for a nightmare. "You didn't mean to dump me on my a- errr, rump."

"I really am sorry," Mel said again, feeling so bad about what happened that she didn't even admonish Janice for her near use of profanity.

"It's really okay," Janice assured her again. "And I really appreciate you were concerned for me, and I'm sorry if I woke you," she said, gesturing towards Mel's cot across the tent. "But the best thing to do with nightmares is just let the person ride them out," she stated firmly, having no idea what to do about nightmares, but not wanting a good dream interrupted again.

"Oh, Janice," Mel said, fighting back tears. "I really didn't know," she said helplessly.

Janice rose and tugged her friend into a hug, tracing gentle circles on her back and whispering soothingly, all the while ignoring her bodies inappropriate response to the southerner's closeness. "All is forgiven and all is well," Janice said, repeating a phrase her father used to use when Janice had made some stupid mistake on the site from inexperience.

"Thank you, Janice," Mel said, mumbling into her shoulder before pulling back and wiping away the few tears that had managed to escape. "Here I was trying to help you, and you end up comforting me," she said, laughing a little when she had finished wiping her eyes. "So what was that dream about?" she asked, looking into Janice's face so close to her own, and wrapping her own arms loosely about Janice's shoulders as Janice's were wrapped around her waist.

"I, ah, don't remember," Janice said quickly.

"You don't remember?" Mel asked, wondering if that was normal for nightmares and if she should be relieved Janice didn't remember the horrible thing, or concerned.

"Nope. Not a thing," Janice said, shaking her head slightly.

"Well, then," Mel said, releasing Janice and stepping back. "We should probably get back to sleep."

"Good idea," Janice said, getting into her cot and pulling the pile of blankets haphazardly around her. "Good night, Mel," she said as Mel got into her own neatly made up cot.

"Good night, Janice. Pleasant dreams."