Eternity Ring

'Please, yes please,' came the answer to the unspoken question.

Rhonda pushed her hands higher and, as she did so, Jessica raised her arms. In one smooth movement, Rhonda stood up and, as she did so, she pushed the top right up and over Jessica's head. Standing there in just her bra and panties Jessica looked small and fragile, the bruise a vile spoliation of an otherwise perfect form. A tumble of conflicting emotions was coming from Jessica, matching Rhonda's own inner confusion. She knew they had both had one drink too many, they both might regret this in the morning but still the desire to protect, to cherish, to shelter this fragile thing from all the hurts of the world, was, along with some rather darker appetites, overcoming the myriad doubts that otherwise might have held Rhonda back. She tossed the top onto the unused put-you-up and, cupping Jessica's face in her hands kissed her long and hard.

'Oh! Oh! Oh yes! Take me! Take me! Please, please, take me!'

Rhonda reached round behind Jessica and undid the clasp of her bra. Without breaking the kiss for one moment she removed the offending garment and tossed it onto the put-you-up along with the discarded top. She gathered Jessica in, wrapping her strong arms around her, holding her close and near.

But kissing, fine as it was, was not all that Rhonda wanted. Indeed, she didn't need telepathy to know it was not all that Jessica wanted either. Rhonda reached down behind her and pulled back the covers from the bed. Then, as gently as if she were handling the finest porcelain, she turned the two of them round and eased Jessica back and down, lying her along the bed. As Rhonda tore at the buttons of her shirt, at her belt buckle, at her jeans, at all the obstacles between her and nakedness, Jessica, with a shy smile, slipped under the covers. There was some scrabbling from beneath and, a few moments later, Jessica's hand emerged holding the her lacy pink panties which she tossed onto the put-you-up along with the rest of her discarded clothes. Naked at last, Rhonda slid beneath the covers next to the waiting Jessica.

"Are you sure...?" Rhonda asked gently.

"I thought you could read my mind," Jessica replied before kissing Rhonda on the tip of her nose.

Rhonda kissed her right back and yes, she could read her mind, she could read, along with a few background doubts, the desire, the need, the urgency, the hunger. Rhonda, still concerned about how much Jessica really wanted this, was gentle at first but Jessica wanted more than that, she had an appetite within her that would not be sated by gentleness.

Furthermore, Rhonda had been expecting to find Jessica a pillow princess, that she would take far more than she would give but, as the last vestiges of reluctance were washed away, she responded with passion and enthusiasm, and, despite her innocence in Sapphic love, she showed a desire to learn, a desire to please and be pleased. Time and again they pleasured each other until, at last completely stated and exhausted, they drifted off to sleep wrapped in each other's arms.

Later, much later, Rhonda rose from the bed to answer the call of nature. When she returned she looked at her bedmate, her blonde tresses flowing across the pillow.

"What have you done, Rhonda, what have you done?" she said to herself but, for the moment, she had no other option than to rejoin Jessica under the covers.

And, outside, in the sealed tank in the back of the van, lay the body of a witch, released from her prison of two thousand years.

Chapter three – in which they find an ending

Parp, parp, parp, parp... Rhonda's digital alarm clock would not be denied and, despite the overwhelming desire just to roll over and go back to sleep, she reached out her hand to hit the off button, pushed back the covers and sat up on the edge of the bed. There, beside her, like a guilty conscience, was Jessica, still nine tenths asleep. Rhonda reached down and pulled back a lock of hair that was obscuring Jessica's face. No one had a right to look that good first thing in the morning. Jessica opened one eye and smiled. There was too much to say, too much to explain and, whilst Rhonda wasn't badly hungover she had had one or two too many pints last night and was now paying the price. Above all else she needed the bathroom. She stood up, grabbed her dressing gown from the back of the door where she had hung it, and set off down the corridor. As she did so she bumped into Zoe, who was also only just awake. They smiled at each other in greeting. That was more than enough conversation for this time of a morning.

As Rhonda did her morning ablutions, she thought over what was waiting for her back in the room. This wouldn't be the first time she had made an ill-advised conquest after a few too many drinks but, on this occasion, the embarrassment factor was going to be at its highest. After all, usually there was the well-worn ritual of exchanged telephone numbers and empty promises about staying in touch, followed by a merciful gap to regroup and rethink. This time they had no such luxury; they were going to have to share the cab of the van for the long, long drive back south. Still, she couldn't put it off forever so, pinning on a smile, she returned to the room.

"Good morning! Is the bathroom free? I could do with a quick shower before breakfast." To Rhonda's amazement Jessica was not only awake, but disarmingly cheerful for such an early hour. She was wearing a satin dressing gown, which barely came to mid thigh and, the sight of her made Rhonda's heart race, even in her befuddled state.

"Ooh, who's a grumpy one in the mornings," Jessica continued as she came over and gave Rhonda a little kiss. "Still, if we're going to be on the road by seven thirty we'll need to get a move on."

Jessica grabbed her towel and waltzed off down the corridor in search of the bathroom. Rhonda sat on the edge of the bed and wondered what had hit her. She had been expecting, if dreading, one of those "about last night" conversations and, instead, had been met by Little Miss Exuberance. Still, the world would look better after a large mug of coffee and breakfast was waiting downstairs. She put on some clothes and set off to find the dining room.

Rhonda was first one down and was losing the battle against Edna's insistence that she have a full Scottish breakfast when Zoe appeared.

"She won't take no for an answer, will you, Edna," Zoe laughed. "Ooh, please tell me that there's tea in that pot."

"There's a cup or two in that one and I'll bring you a fresh pot in a minute. Now, you'll be having the full breakfast as well, young lady."

"Thanks, Edna, you're a darling."

Rhonda and Zoe were half way through their breakfasts when Jessica arrived. She greeted the two of them, sat down, and poured herself a cup of tea.

"Good morning. I didn't expect to see you up so early," she said to Zoe.

"Oh, I'm coming with you," Zoe replied. "The little lady in the back of your van, she's my find and I'm looking after her. I'm not letting her out of my sight for a minute. Andy can stay here and run things until I get back."

"You're coming with us? Oh, that'll be fun. It will be nice to have someone else to chat to. Old grumpy-graws hardly said a word on the way up."

Rhonda, knowing that the nickname of 'grumpy-graws' was going to stick, just looked up at Jessica and shook her head. Then Edna arrived with a fresh pot of tea, and more coffee for Rhonda, and, as she was busy discussing the breakfast choices with Jessica, that put an end to conversation for a while.

With Zoe's keen desire to get the bog woman back down to the lab as soon as possible, the three women, stuffed to the gills with Edna's full Scottish breakfast, went out to the van well before seven thirty. Zoe couldn't help but check the back, make sure that the preservation tank was secure, its cooling system fully functional and its precious cargo safe and sound. Zoe also insisted on taking first turn at the wheel, suggesting that Rhonda could take the opportunity to sleep off the rest of her hangover. Jessica sat in the middle so as to be able to chat.

"So, tell me more about the bog lady?" Jessica asked Zoe once they had driven a mile or so.

"As I said last night, we really don't know much, yet," Zoe replied. "That's what makes this find so exciting. Although eighteen hundred or so bog bodies have been found over the years only fifty have survived excavation. It's only recently we've learnt the techniques for preserving them. That's why we had to rush the tank up here, as soon as they're exposed to the air they start to decay. All in all we don't know that much about them and each new specimen, especially one as well preserved as Bridie, gives a new opportunity to find out so much more."

"Bridie? Why do you call her that?"

"Well, you've got to call her something and, as Bridie is an old Gaelic name, it seemed appropriate."

"But she looks so... so perfect. Well, the bits that you can see, anyway. It's the water in the bog that does that, isn't it?"

"That's the one. The concentrations of organic acids and aldehydes along with the anaerobic conditions make it perfect for preservation, she's almost as good as the day she went in. Our job now is to make sure she stays that way, that she doesn't decay now that we've lifted her."

Jessica had some trouble following the technical aspects but Zoe's enthusiasm was infectious and Jessica was enough of an archaeologist to appreciate the magnitude of the find. More than that, ever since she had first caught sight of the body, there was something about this that called to her. She wanted to know as much as she could; somehow it was important. And so she kept asking questions until, come late morning, they were approaching Stirling and the top of the M9. It would be motorway all the way home from here. By then Jessica had learnt quite a bit about bog people, and Zoe was rapidly reassessing her earlier preconceptions. They pulled into some services for a well-needed break.

"Come on, grumble-graws," Zoe said to Rhonda, who had opened one eye. "Time for some coffee and then you can take over."

Rhonda was less than amused, but not surprised, that Zoe had picked up the 'grumble-graws' nickname but the need for coffee and the restrooms was paramount. Shaking off the last remnants of sleep, she followed Zoe and Jessica into the services. It would have been nice to make a proper stop of it but, with many hundred miles still ahead of them, they just had time to stretch their legs and have a quick cup of coffee before it was time to get back on the road.

For the next section of the drive Rhonda took over behind the wheel. Jessica continued to chat with Zoe, who, flattered by her interest in the bog woman, was quite happy to reciprocate. Rhonda felt left out of things and was more than a little jealous. She struggled to understand why she felt this way; after all, there was nothing special between them, the previous night had been a drunken mistake, hadn't it, and Zoe and Jessica were just talking. In fact Rhonda was struggling to determine just how she did feel about Jessica. Her first impressions had been so wide of the mark and, now that she was getting to know her, getting to understand her, there was more to respect, more to, dare she say it, admire.

And then, last night, it had all felt so right. Making love had never felt so natural. Of course, the telepathy thing had made a huge difference but it wasn't just the mechanics, their moods had been perfectly synchronised; it hadn't been so much a matter of give and take as much as share and share. But, wonderful as it had been, it surely had to be a one off. Much as she was growing to appreciate Jessica as a person, the thought of them as a couple just didn't work. Anyway, Jessica was straight and devoted to that bastard Jeremy. One mercy was that she was pretty sure that Jessica wouldn't use last night as stimulating pillow talk. Rhonda had known quite a few straight girls who had been 'bi-curious' merely to make themselves more alluring to their boyfriends.

The M6 past Stoke was its usual nightmare and it was late in the day when they finally returned to the institute. Even so, Zoe wasn't going to be happy until Bridie, safe in her preservation tank, was properly stowed away in the labs and the cooling system was safely plugged into the mains supply rather than running off the van's batteries. So it was the thick end of eight o'clock when the three women, exhausted after a long day, made their way out to the car park.

"Could either of you guys give me a lift home?" Zoe asked. "I'm a bit stuck without my car."

"Not unless you have a spare crash helmet," Rhonda replied. "I'm on the bike." She indicated her Moto Guzzi, looking red and mean in its parking place.

"I can take you," Jessica offered. "There's room in the Alpha."

"Thanks, you're a doll."

As Rhonda put on her helmet she watched Zoe and Jessica laughing together as they went over to Jessica's Alpha. This time the jealousy really did hurt. It was as if last night had never happened, as if it meant nothing to Jessica. Whilst Rhonda knew that, in the long term, that was how it should be, she was devastated that Jessica appeared to have forgotten her so quickly. And then, once Jessica had got Zoe settled in the passenger seat of the Alpha, she rushed over and rapped her knuckles on Rhonda's crash helmet. Rhonda turned and lifted the visor.

"What," she said, somewhat churlishly.

"Take your helmet off," Jessica replied.

For a moment Rhonda felt like refusing but, well, it was Jessica and it would be too like smacking a puppy. She undid the straps and pulled the helmet off. As soon as she did so Jessica kissed her lightly on the lips.

"Thank you, thank you so much, I had a lovely time, all of it."

"About last night," Rhonda started.

"As I said, I had a lovely time. Thank you." And, with that, Jessica was off, over to the Alpha and her waiting passenger. As Rhonda watched she could see Zoe sitting in the passenger seat. She must have seen everything. But, dammit, her lips were still tingling from the kiss. That would do for now.

It was so inevitable that Rhonda was just waiting for it. Even so, the initial smack came as a shock as the entire left hand side of her face erupted in pain. The force threw her back into the sofa where she was sitting and, as she fell, her leg kicked out, knocking over the coffee table.

'You're a slag, you know that?'

'Please, Jeremy, please don't be like this.'

'Like what, cunt?'

'Please, don't call me those words, I'm not like that, I'm not what you say I am.'

'You're a cheap little slut. Look at the way you're dressed, just begging for it, just begging for cock. Go on, show me how you beg.'

Rhonda felt her hair yanked back and, as her mouth flew open she felt it filled with Jeremy's rigid prick.

'Go on, slut, beg, beg.'

'Mmmff mmmfmaaa ugh, ugh, uurghhh!'

Rhonda felt herself start to retch as the sperm was pumped down her throat. There was another wrench to her hair and she ended up sprawled on the floor. She felt cheapened, violated, dirty, used, wretched and, above all, sick to her stomach.

Wearily Rhonda took herself off to bed but sleep did not come easily. She knew she really shouldn't get involved, that doing so would be more trouble than it was worth but wasn't she already involved? First of all there was the whole thing with the ring and, secondly, well, when they had slept together it had been more, much more, than casual sex between strangers. Above all else Rhonda just wanted to sweep Jessica up in her arms and protect her, shield her from all the bad things in the world, to care for her, and, in this particular case, to rip that bastard's balls from his body and shove them down his throat.

But what could she do? For all their growing bond Jessica had made it quite clear that she didn't want to talk about Jeremy. A friend who had worked at a battered women's shelter had talked about the amazing levels of denial involved and now, it seemed, Rhonda was witnessing that denial at first hand.

The next day, at work, there didn't seem to be the opportunity to really talk to Jessica and, as the next day turned into the next, and then the one after that, it seemed easiest to just let it go. However, Rhonda was finding that a number of things had changed since the trip north. Jessica was becoming increasingly affectionate and would bring Rhonda little gifts; some cup-cakes she had baked with, as she put it, more love than skill, and a gay pride badge she had picked up at the market. One morning, Rhonda found, to her amazement, that Jessica had come in before her and left a vase of primula on her desk. For her part, Rhonda was increasingly protective; heaven help any man who didn't show Jessica the respect that Rhonda felt she was due. From time to time they would touch, and even, if they were sure they were alone, kiss. Rhonda could tell that the intensity of Jessica's desire matched her own but both were concerned that acting on it would break everything. It was as if their time in Scotland were too sacred, too precious, to spoil with something as sordid as an affair. On the other hand neither was ready to take the step to the place where Jessica would leave Jeremy for Rhonda, even if Rhonda wished Jessica would leave Jeremy anyway.

For Jessica's relationship with Jeremy was getting increasingly strained. Firstly Jessica was putting in more and more hours at the institute. It wasn't that Rhonda was working her harder, rather Jessica was fascinated by Bridie and the whole process surrounding her preservation. Her presence in the lab had been at first tolerated, then accepted and finally welcomed. Zoe made free use of her services and, despite little twinges of jealousy, Rhonda was happy to encourage this because of the way that Jessica's self confidence was blossoming. Neither the extra unpaid hours, nor the increased self-confidence were seen as positive changes by Jeremy and, more than once, Rhonda was all too aware that he was taking his frustration out on Jessica. Once, when Jessica came into work with a bruise over her eye, Rhonda went as far as to start to suggest that she do something about it. However, as Rhonda hugged her tight and the tears flowed down, she could tell that pushing her on this was only causing her more pain.

And then, late one evening, Rhonda was just packing up after a long session in the lab when Jessica appeared at the door.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Rhonda asked. "It's gone nine thirty. Come on, it's home time."

"Rhonda, she's not called Bridie, she's called Mebh," Jessica said urgently.

"May? What are you talking about?"

"Not May, Mebh, like Maeve Binchy who writes those books," Jessica corrected. "Please, Rhonda, come with me. Please."

Rhonda followed Jessica down into the basement lab where Bridie still rested in the preservation tank. Pretty soon they would have to start the freeze-drying process that was now the accepted method of preventing further decay but, for the moment, cooling and a carefully controlled atmosphere were deemed enough. Jessica led Rhonda up to the tank. Now that it was in regular use the tank had been fitted with built in gloves so that the body could be manipulated without breaking the seal. Jessica told Rhonda to put her right hand in one of the gloves. Jessica then put her left hand in the other and, standing side by side, they joined their free hands.

'She's not called Bridie, she's called Mebh. She told me that, clear as day. She told me to bring you down here. This is really important. We have to do this; we have to do it together. Lay your hand on her body, yes, like that, next to mine.'