Disclaimers: The characters in this story belong to Jules Mills, who kindly, if
unwisely, allowed me to borrow them. Thank you, Jules. You are a brave woman.
Subtext/Maintext Warning: Are you kidding?? Dana and Grace?? For those of you just
joining us, this story is about two women in love. Their relationship is characterized by
wild mood swings that include passionate sex (that would be with each other), usually
followed by angst-ridden break-ups.
Carrot Cake Warning: It’s a dangerous recipe. Too delicious.
Bardic Apologies: Merwulf (who is some nutso, not the real Merwolf) seems to be
channelling new entities. This one claims to be Drools Thrills. My apologies to Jules and
anyone with a salivary gland disorder.
Special Thanks to my partners in this crime: A lifetime supply of chocolate fudge
ice cream to Li’lZon and Lauracy.
Part One. Ingredients.
3 cups grated carrots, 4 eggs, 2 cups sugar, 1 ‡ cups salad oil, 2 cups flour, 2 tbsp
soda, ‡ tsp salt, 2 tbsp cinnamon, 1 small can crushed pineapple, walnuts.
Dana looked up at the sated face of her lover from where her head reclined nibbling on a
thigh. Grace let out a satisfied sigh. Dana smirked at having brought that look of
contentment and ceased her nibbling long enough to say, “Have you finally had
enough??”
“Um huh,” Grace mumbled around the fingers she was licking clean.
Dana chuckled, “Sometimes I think you are insatiable, complaining that there are only
two breasts..... I knew you would like my fried chicken, Grace.”
“Come here.” Grace said softly. Dana abandoned her chicken and leaned over Grace
where she was lying on cushions on the floor. Grace stroked her cheek, then drew her down
for a long kiss. As Dana drew back slightly, Grace whispered, “What’s for
dessert?”
Dana used her breath to tickle an ear, then purred into it, “Carrot cake.”
Grace leaped up in her excitement, lifting Dana halfway up with her, “You made carrot
cake?? I love carrot cake. Oh yum..” as she made a bee line for the kitchen.
Dana sighed and smiled at seeing Rip possessively gnawing on the thigh she’d dropped.
“We won’t tell her you caught the chicken, Rip.”
“Grace,” Dana begged her gluttonous lover, “I can’t take anymore.
You’ve used all 31 flavours of ice cream, achieving 108 orgasms between us....”
“109," Grace objected.
“109.... made me pass out 4 times.... and what’s with that yodelling
thing?”
“I don’t know, it just sort of comes over me when I, you know......”
“Hunh, well, you keep getting louder. That last time rattled the windows.”
Grace’s reply was a muffled sound into Dana’s neck as she resumed her
consumption.
“Please Grace, what about food? a shower? work? Don’t you want to find a cure
for cancer anymore?”
“I’m hoping for an even number.” she mumbled as she continued to nibble an
ear.
Dana grabbed her wandering hands, “Ok, it’s 108, I faked one.”
Grace jerked back, pulling her hands free, “You faked one? With me? How could you?
Which one? Was it the boysenberry or the jamoca almond fudge?”
“Grace, don’t do this. I don’t want to spoil a flavour.”
“Faking is like lying! I can’t believe you lied to me about this, Dana!”
“Grace, stop it! Over 50 orgasms in one night.....”
As they argued, the Baskin-Robbins delivery truck outside pulled away; the stonefaced
driver and his passenger having changed from their white smocks to their more familiar
black suits.
It had been a bad fight and of course, they’d broken up. Dana had left the house
dragging a rage behind her that was up to no good. Rift had whined to see her go, but Dana
thought she’d be better off with Grace.
Three days later, Rachel found her. Dana had taken a job shovelling fish in a coal mine.
Rachel had often wondered where Cajun dishes like blackened redfish came from, now she
knew.
Dana was shovelling to the rhythm of an old song, “I’ve been working on the
fish-road, all the live long day, I’ve been working on the fish-road, just to perch
the time away...”
Rachel announced her presence by singing the chorus, “Someone’s in the coal mine
with Dana...”
Dana threw a shovel full of trout at her to shut her up. “What are you doing here,
Rach?”
“Oh, I just thought I’d come by and smoke a few fish with you.....”
Dana stopped shovelling and leaned an elbow on the handle as she regarded her friend,
“If you tell me ‘but I don’t know where to get Zig-Zags big enough to roll
‘em in, I’ll think you’ve already been smoking.”
Rachel grinned shamelessly at her friend. “So, you just doing this for the
halibut?”
Dana groaned. “I came here to get away from your bad puns. Why are you here,
Rachel?”
Suddenly serious, “She needs you.”
Dana’s jaw locked, her good humour gone, “Don’t go there, Rachel. It’s
none of your business.”
“Dana, have you been too busy shovelling fish to log on and check your email?”
“^Do I look like I’m packing a computer?”
“There’s a new virus, and I think Grace’s got it.”
Dana dropped her shovel and began to race for the exit of the mine, pulling Rachel along
with her. “Tell me what you know so far.”
“Well, I think it’s some kind of counter-espionage virus. It sort of, um,
disables whoever has it and um, usually, um well, at least one or maybe two
others...”
Dana stopped in her tracks and glared at Rachel, “Is she going to die? What do you
mean disables?”
“Well, from what I can get from the net, it makes a person insatiable sexually, and
well, first you didn’t come to work for a week, then Grace finally shows without you,
but she’s flushed all the time and we keep hearing yodelling... Apparently
that’s one of the symptoms. The yodels get louder and louder. She’s already
breaking windows. And you can’t buy batteries anywhere in the city......they’re
all out. She’s going to black out the Eastern Seaboard if we don’t stop
her.”
“Stop her? Who wants to stop her? It’s been three days already, Rachel... 3 long
lonely days....” Doc said as she raced home to her sex-crazed partner.
Rachel rolled her eyes and followed along.
Part Two. Heat.
Stir together, pour in large pan and bake at 300-325 degrees for 1 hour.
Dana leaped out of the Porsche before Rachel had completely stopped the car. They’d
heard yodelling from a block away and Dana was anxious to be reunited with the source of
that cry.
Grace met them at the door and latched onto Dana like white on rice. By the time Rachel
had grabbed a couple of beers and gone back outside to the deck, Dana and Grace were
screwing on the couch like crazed weasels.
Rachel poured some beer into the dog’s bowl, “Here, I hate to drink alone.”
As the yodelling commenced, Rachel and Ripped were both rolling their eyes.
“That’s what I’m calling this one, Ripped, the Super-Weasel Virus.”
Dana dropped into the chair next to Rachel and began to swivel back and forth while she
waited. The computer genius pulled up the files the nanotech had requested, the results
from the sample of the virus they’d gotten from Grace. “There ya go,” not
taking her eyes off the screen.
Dana studied the readout and then sat back in her chair, rubbing her eyes. “Yup,
it’s a nano virus. Looks like somebody tailored it to purposefully infect Grace,
probably to stop me from working.” Damn, she thought as she replaced her glasses and
focused on the task at hand.
“How can you tell, Doc?”
“See that component right there?” She continued after Rachel nodded. “The
most logical thing to do with a virus like this is make it random. Your victim is
attracted to anything that moves. That component is a Lunacy Subroutine. Means Grace
imprints on me and won’t have sex with anyone else. Not logical, therefore, I’m
the target. It’s to take me out of action.”
“Are you sure you didn’t design this one yourself, Doc?”
Dana flashed a 100-watt, self-satisfied grin, “I don’t need a virus to spoil her
for anyone else, Rachel.”
The moment was shattered by flying glass as a yodel of sonic proportions came down the
hallway followed by a dishevelled Grace. Apparently the sedative had worn off . She turned
Dana’s chair around and straddled her lap, running a thumb over lips she had been
dreaming. Her eyes searched Dana’s for an answering spark. Doc took her thumb into
her mouth and gently sucked on it causing Grace to gasp, then swoon as she felt hands
running over sensitive skin.
Rachel rolled her eyes. She grabbed a beer and jerked her head toward the door. The dog
padded after her, glad to be away from the two women going at it like bonobo monkeys
hanging from the trees. “That’s enough to make you barf, isn’t it
Ralph.”
The neighbour Mrs. Nesmith waved an invitation to Rachel. She and Ralph meandered over
through the sand and joined the older woman who was sitting out on her deck with
binoculars and a book open across her lap. Rachel pulled up a chair and introduced
herself. Ralph, already acquainted with neighbours who gave treats to dogs, settled in at
Mrs. Nesmith’s feet, eyeing her hopefully.
“Bird watching?” Rachel asked, taking a swig of beer.
“Oh no, dear. Gave that up last year when the tall one moved in next door.” She
held up the book from across her lap at Rachel’s perplexed look. “Kama Sutra.
You can see I’ve already got 143 positions checked off. The girls in my bridge club
are quite fascinated!” She took a quick look through her binoculars, “Cover your
ears dear, here she comes.” Rachel’s beer bottle shattered in her hand as the
yodel rolled over them and down the beach. Ralph sat up and howled along. Mrs. Nesmith
checked off another page. Rachel rolled her eyes.
When Rachel went back into the house they were arguing.
“I don’t understand why you want to find a cure. You don’t want me
anymore?” Grace pouted.
“It’s not that, Grace. I always want you. I just don’t like being
manipulated!” Doc pleaded.
“Oh, so now I’m manipulating you into having sex with me..” Grace flared.
As they argued, Rachel brought in another supply of batteries then waited in the car. Rift
had decided to come with her, thinking Rachel would at least remember to feed her, if not
share more beer. Eventually, Grace came flying out the back door and stormed down the
beach. Doc stepped out the front, fists clenched, her gut wound tighter than a hot drum.
Rachel watched her walk toward wide open spaces with a ground eating pace, then started up
the car to follow. She noticed the ice cream truck that cruised behind her playing
it’s insidious tune.
After 5 miles, Rachel pulled up along side the nanotech. She rolled down the windows so
she could ask, “So, you break up?”
Dana just glared at her in answer.
“Get in Doc. We need to go cook up a cure for the Hoochie Coochie Blues.”
Dana stopped and leaned on the roof of the car, staring down incredulously at her
musically impaired friend. “Hoochie Coochie Blues? What’s that Rachel, some lame
camp song?” But she got in the car.
Rachel sped off to the labs burning Doc’s ears with her Janis Joplin impersonation.
“I go a body like a lizard.....”
“Rach, she never sang that song, stop it!”
Rachel looked over at her friend with a shit-eating grin and hit the gas while she croaked
out another line, “I got a mind like a snake........” Rift rolled her eyes and
howled.
“Why did you put the Hoochie Coochie Nanos in carrot cake, Doc?”
“They’re not Hoochie Coochie Nanos. They’re Anti Super-Weasel Virus Nanos,
and I put them in carrot cake cause Grace likes it. Good delivery system.” She
finished spreading the frosting, then lifted a hypo canister, “And this is a
self-replicating cure with a twist.”
Rachel loved the evil grin on her friend’s face. “You gonna tell me what it
does?”
“Nope. But I’m gonna tell you what I want you to do with it.” She said
coyly as she handed over the canister and filled Rachel in on the plan.
“So, then you want me to take you to the boat and tell Grace where you are,
right?”
“Yup, that Lunacy Subroutine will make her come to me as soon as the batteries run
out. How many did you leave her?” Doc checked her watch, “We’d better
hurry.”
Part Three. Frosting.
4 cups powdered sugar, 2 tsp vanilla, ‡ lb. Butter, 8 oz. Cream Cheese, 1 cup walnuts.
Mix together till creamy.
Rachel loved to see a plan come together. She sat on the dock with Riptide, beer in hand,
and watched Grace roll up in her jeep. Just like clock-work she thought. Grace hopped out
and trotted down the dock to the right berth. As she disappeared onboard, the ice cream
truck pulled quietly into the parking lot. Rachel chuckled and put down her beer.
“This is where we come in Riptide.” She picked up the canister and casually
walked her dog off the dock and toward the trees behind the parking lot. Then she doubled
back and slipped the canister into the back window where you usually could buy ice cream.
She then resumed the walk with her dog. Unseen by the trucks inhabitants.
The blond was beyond pride. She stood framed in the doorway of the galley, absorbing the
sight of her heart’s desire. Dana looked sideways over to her from where she was
cooking, a hopeful smile on her lips. Grace was caught in blue like a deer in headlights.
Her heart raced, green eyes glazed in desire. She reached for the table to steady herself
as her knees became weak, drawing her inside the cabin.
“You need to eat, Grace. It’s just eggs. I was a little rushed.” She said
as she turned, plate in hand and set it on the table.
Breathless, Grace broke off her gaze into Dana’s eyes and glanced briefly at the food
incongruously in front of her. Tears filled her vision and she reached out to curl a
tentative hand around Doc’s. “You, you still cook for me?” Stunned at this
act of normal everyday caring. It wasn’t what she wanted to say as she brought
Dana’s warm hand to her lips.
Dana cupped her cheek, wiping a tear away with her thumb, and answered the deeper
question. “I will always be here for you, Grace. Now eat, cause I’ve got
plans.” she said as she suggestively waggled her eyebrows.
Grace laughed as she was crying. She snuggled into Dana’s embrace with a relieved
sigh and sobbed a little harder, then ate the meal prepared for her. Laughingly she asked,
“So, what’s for dessert, Doc?”
“Hmmmm, your favourites. I made you carrot cake and I brought ice cream, carnal
fudge.”
Grace wrapped herself tightly around her love and rasped in her ear, “Bring them to
the bed.”
Rachel heard the sonic yodel from her post on the dock. The boat had been rocking so hard
it was setting up mini tidal waves. Fish were being whapped against the sides and being
scooped up by enterprising fishermen. Rachel and Riptide rolled their eyes and Riptide
howled. The sonic boom from that last yodel brought a day’s catch to the surface. It
also released the sound-activated lock on the canister Rachel had placed in the ice cream
truck. The two stiff suits inside were immediately infected with their own virus and
imprinted on each other. For the next 24 hours, they rolled around in melting ice cream
making like amorous bunnies. When the virus wore off, they were both too embarrassed to
report it back to their superiors. What they didn’t know was that they were now
carriers of a 24-hour Super-Weasel Virus. When they reported in to their boss, they would
pass it on with their briefing.
Grace came barrelling off the boat at breakneck speed, half-dressed and carrying a melting
half gallon of ice cream. She raced by Rachel yelling, “Let’s go!” Puzzled,
Rachel and Rip looked at each other and chased after her.
“Where’s Doc?” to which Grace held up the carton of ice cream and leaped
into the jeep tossing Rachel the keys.
“Hospital, now, drive!!!” Graced yelled frantically. Rachel started up the car
and glancing back at the boat for a sign from Doc, gunned it and broke land speed records
getting to the hospital.
Once there, Grace again bolted from the car, carrying her ice cream, and streaked into the
emergency room calling out orders. When Rachel entered the ER she saw Grace behind double
doors, hunched over the ice cream. She drew out a thumb and gently placed it in the
regenerator. She adjusted the chemicals with the computer and then laid her forehead
against the chamber holding the thumb.
“Grace, what the hell happened? Where’s Doc, who’s thumb is that?”
Rachel demanded, the adrenaline finally getting to her.
Rip whined and sniffed the chamber, then put her head back and howled.
“That thumb is Doc, Rachel. Or it will be in a week.” she said sadly, touching
the glass.
“What?? What happened?” Grace took Rachel by the arm and drew her away from the
busy staff who were now checking the thumb’s vital signs and checking the
regenerator’s power sources.
“She didn’t give me the carrot cake right away. I mean, we used the frosting,
and I’m sure that helped.”
“Helped?? You’re telling me Doc is a thumb and that’s cause something went
right?” Rachel was beyond shocked at this point.
“Sshh, Rachel. We didn’t know how dangerous this Super-Weasel Virus could be.
Things just got... well, things just got a little too hot.”
“Grace, what do you mean, they got too hot? What happened to Doc?” pinning
reluctant green eyes with her determination to know what happened to her friend.
Thoroughly embarrassed, Grace blurted out, “Oh Geez, Rachel, she said,
‘you’re making me catch fire baby.’ And then she did. Spontaneous
Come-bustion.”
“WHAAAAAT?? Is that even possible?? You’re telling me you actually
friggin’.....you know..... to death??”
“She’s not dead!! We got her here in time. She’ll be ok. We’re cloning
her from her thumb.”
“You’re telling me that a thumb survived and that Doc is ... that.... how did
her thumb survive Grace?” Rachel’s knees gave out and she looked for a chair.
“Grace?”
“It was...........” Grace said sheepishly. “Oh hell, it was wet enough that
it didn’t burn.”
Rachel slumped into her chair and laughed so hard she couldn’t breath.
A pale Dana lay in her hospital bed, tenderly stroking the hand between hers and listening
to Grace’s story of her near demise and reconstruction. “Which one?” Dana
asked holding up both hands for Grace’s inspection.
“The left.” Grace said stroking it softly.
“Good” Dana teased, “That was my favourite one.”
Grace smiled and kissed both the thumb and then it’s owner with aching gratitude that
she still could.
“^Grace? Do you still think it’s just cellular memory? That I could be me from
what you made from a thumb?”
“I don’t know what to believe, Dana. What do you think?” soft green eyes
showed an unguarded vulnerability, having witnessed a miracle.
Dana locked onto her with desperate intensity, “I think I couldn’t leave without
you. I think my soul cleaves to yours stronger than to flesh and bone. I think I am
incomplete without you. I think it’s a miracle that you love me, and that alone makes
me believe. I love you, Grace.”
Grace wiped tears from her eyes and nodded her head.
“Chipmunk?” Grace looked at her quizzically, “Do you think you could always
keep at least one part of me tucked away for safe keeping incase this ever happens
again?”
Grace laughingly slapped Doc’s arm and let herself be pulled into an embrace that
made her want to believe in souls and meaning and forever.