Touch

"Sounds awful."

"It is. Meant to be. With that as a possible sentence, most anyone will cop a plea rather than take a chance on an unforgiving jury. I did."

"The more I see, the less I think of the Authority."

He laughed then. A deep, booming and obviously mirth filled laughter that was infectious.

"That sounds like Simmons talking."

"You seem to know her well?"

"Fifth tour for her. She can't stay out of trouble."

"She seemed so nice."

"Nice?" he said quizzically.

He looked at her carefully, as if sizing her up. Lindsey felt like she had said something stupid, but she wasn't sure why.

"Over half the people you served with are nice, in the right situation. There are a few nasty ones, but the majority are like you, wrong place, wrong time offenders. Simmons is a professional victim. She can't resist a demonstration and once she gets started, people just naturally follow her. She would have been great in the military, natural leader and all that. Now, she's always rounded up as one of the "ringleaders" of these things and gets a short term for her troubles."

"Why does she do it?"

"Got nothing else, I guess. I wish she would find a good woman and settle down. One of these days, she isn't going to make it back from the surface. Or she'll get the repeat offender tag and end up in a black suit."

"Pardon me, did you say a good woman?"

"Yeah, Simmons is a dyed in the wool lezzie. I figured you knew?"

"No, I had no idea," Lindsey replied.

The big man colored, and suddenly he seemed much more like any guy she had known at school. Embarrassed by his assumption, he seemed quite at a loss. Rather than hurt her impression of him, it made him seem that much more likeable and human.

"I guess it does explain why she might have taken a liking to me," Lindsey ventured, when the silence became awkward.

"Nah. She would have helped you one way or the other. That's her way. It's just that you're very pretty and seem really sweet. I guess I was hoping more than thinking. Sorry."

"You really care about her don't you?"

"Me? Yeah, I care. If things were different...but they are what they are."

"I'm sorry," Lindsey said, impulsively taking his hand.

"Not your fault," he laughed, "My own for falling for her. She's just the kind of woman that gets to you, you know? I mean, even if we never got physical, I'd still be happy with her. But I think maybe my emotions are a little mixed. She's a great friend, and I do my best to keep that in mind. Since nothing else is possible."

"But you still hope, don't you?"

"Yeah, sometimes. Honestly, though, I really would be happy if she found someone good for her. It's hell on me, every time she shows up. I worry about her the whole time she's down there in hell."

"Can I ask a question?"

"Sure."

"She obviously means a lot to you. What makes you think I'd be the right woman for her?"

He sat for along time, staring off into space. Lindsey was hesitant to say anything, his face looked so pensive and his whole demeanor was that of someone far, far away. "Jen's a wonder, really. She really cares, about others, I mean. Not just in a vague sense, either. She empathizes with them, really feels their pain or revels in their joy. She's strong, tough, but underneath, she's really very sensitive and loving. She's had a few girlfriends, but it never works out. She always picks women like herself, passionate about others and willing to stand up for it. Problem is, they are both more passionate about "the masses" than they are about each other."

"I'm nothing like that," Lindsey volunteered.

"I know. I read your file, checked with your guards. You're naïve, and I've seen nothing to indicate you're an activist, but you're seriously planning to go kill someone. There's strength in you. There's also sensitivity and sweetness. You're a cause Jen could take up, one where she wouldn't have to be putting herself in harm's way all the time. Someone of her own, to love and protect, rather than taking in all society. I just think she could love you and settle down with you."

"You're a romantic," Lindsey said, but without rancor.

"Tarnished romantic, yeah, that's me. Sorry for burdening you with all this. Not your problem. I'd still advise you not to take the path of revenge. It's never what you think it will be," he said, rising as he spoke.

"Leaving?"

"Yeah, my shift goes down in an hour. Be good. Oh, how much did they give you?"

"Twenty seven hundred."

The big man reached into his jumper pocket and pulled out a handful of small red discs, which he tossed on the table.

Lindsey had never seen one, but she knew what she was looking at as he smiled and made his way out. She picked one up and examined it curiously. Everything was electronic now, people rarely handled real money. Lindsey had heard that on the outer rim, the military still paid off in them and people still used them, but she had never really believed that. It was almost too...primitive, yet here she was, holding a real five hundred credit piece. In that one gesture, Cahill had tripled the money she had to spend. He was a strange man, but one she decided she liked a lot.

And Simmons? Jen, he had called her. Lindsey wondered if that was short for Jennifer or Jenny. She was intriguing. An enigma.

Lindsey waited for the others to get off the shuttle before she debarked. She wore a simple dress, with heels and a small hat, with a veil. The first three off were men in prison jumpsuits and hobbles, escorted by their guards. Next came the wives and girlfriends, mothers and fathers who were here to pick up their loved ones. Last came some techs, administrators and replacement guards. Lindsey waited until they had all debarked. It took an act of will to make herself walk down the long gangway. Memories flooded in as she did, unpleasant memories of fear, anxiety, uncertainty. Coming back to Flavian Station was the hardest thing she had ever done in her life.

As soon as she was off, men and a few women in prison blues began boarding. She viewed them with pity, knowing exactly where they were. So anxious to make sure they were really free, they were boarding the shuttle seven hours before it was set to depart.

Lindsey made her way through the crowded corridors towards the lifts. She took one up to the entertainment deck, where she found a seat in the cafeteria at a table by herself. She had a cup of coffee, which she nursed as she waited.

"Lindsey?" a voice inquired.

"Hello Bill," she replied.

"Almost didn't recognize you. You've filled out quite a bit," the big man said as he took a seat.

"Yeah, I've been living the good life," she said with only a trace of sarcasm.

"I saw on the newsvids that the man who put you in here had an accident."

"Yes. Pity that."

"Was it worth it?" he asked, lowering his voice.

"Yes and no. You were right, it didn't change anything. My sister's dead, died of an OD. One year of my life is still gone, spent down there. And now I have his death on my conscience, but at least I know no one else will suffer at his hands."

"I wish you had listened."

"Do you?" she asked quizzically.

"Well, yeah. I mean, you wouldn't have had that to deal with if you had."

"Perhaps. But if I had taken your advice, I might not be here. I did listen to a lot you said."

"Why did you come back?"

"Simmons should be getting out today," Lindsey said simply.

"Yeah, so?"

"So, I did some thinking. I tried a few things, other than murder, while I was out."

"Like?" he prompted.

"Like sex. I'm not a virgin anymore."

"And?" he said in obvious confusion.

"I didn't like it," she said with a smile. "I'm really lost here."

Lindsey laughed gently. She took another sip of her coffee and examined him over the lip of the cup.

"You told me once that Simmons needed a good woman and you thought I might be it. At the time, I found the idea flattering but absurd. It seems a lifetime ago," she started.

Lindsey shook her head and smiled a self-mocking smile as she put her coffee down and brushed a lock of hair from her face.

"So I killed that rat bastard. I expected that to be the end, even went back to my hotel room and waited for the cops. None ever came and eventually, I realized it wouldn't be so easy. So I dealt with the guilt and my sister's death, and then left home for good. I had no place to go, nothing in mind to do, so I took a ship to Tarsus and set out to see what I had been missing. I ended up turning tricks in a high-class brothel. I made more in six months there than I ever dreamed I would see in my life time."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I was searching for something. Drugs, booze and sex were all paths I tried. All dead ends. But together they taught me something." "What?"

"I found that no matter who you go to bed with, you always wake up with yourself. At some point, I decided I had to find something to hang on to, or I was going down the toilet. So I got my shit together, detoxed and came here. If this doesn't work out, I don't really know what's next."

"So you're going to try and hook up with Jen?"

"Hopefully more than hook up. At the very least, repay the debt I owe her."

"Well, I'll be damned," he said.

"I was hoping you could help me."

"Sure. What do you need?"

"Is there some way I could see her, while she's in the infirmary? As soon as she comes out?"

"I suppose I could arrange it, why?"

"Because when you come out, the thing you most desire is to touch someone. To be touched by someone. You can get by without it, but I can't think of anything that would do more to even us up than to be there to...touch her."

"If I know Jen, touching won't be nearly enough," he said with a grin.

"Perhaps not. If she wants more, I'm prepared to try it."

"All the pretty girls end up lezzies," he said in mock despair.

Lindsey laughed and he joined her.

"You sure about this?" he asked, when their laughter had run its course.

"Frankly, no. I'm not sure about anything, really. I just know I can't...enjoy being intimate with a guy any longer, if I ever could have. I can't...trust one enough to relax. Turning tricks was easy, because it was emotionless. It may well be I can't with a woman, either, but I'll never know unless I try."

"Well, I'm sure Jen will want to try. She's on the edge now, going Venusian. I was glad to see she broke the clasps on her suit, even though I know that means she'll walk from here with practically nothing."

"That reminds me," Lindsey said, opening her small purse and passing a cred stick across the table.

"What's this?" he asked.

"Repaying what you lent me when I left," she smiled.

"Oh, no. It was a gift, not a loan," he protested, refusing to take the cred stick.

"Please, take it. When you loaned it, I was in such need, but now I have money to spare. Save it and give it to some other unfortunate. It'll bring more good in your hands than mine. Besides, it's ill gotten. You can redeem it by using it to help someone."

"All right, I'll pass it to someone else. I know a girl who's due to get out in a few cycles. She could really use it."

"Good."

"So, I guess I better get on it. Where can I find you?"

"I'll be in the night club, as soon as it opens."

"Great," he said, giving her a hug before he left.

Three hours of time to kill had almost been her undoing. Thus far, she had avoided really contemplating what she was doing, but the station made her morose and she wasn't able to quell the thoughts. As the time grew closer she felt herself panicking, wishing desperately she had never come back. To cope she drank more than she should have. It did little to diffuse the anxiety, but it took the edge off her desire to flee.

Inevitably, a woman drinking alone in such a place attracted the wrong kind of attention. There were three of them, all in the blue jumpers of recently released cons. They simply sat down and ignored her polite rebuffs, eventually getting handsy. Lindsey carried a Blastech stunner in her purse and was reaching for it when Cahill showed up. She was still naïve in some respects, but she had discarded any illusions about the kindness of strangers.

"Beat it," he said as he grabbed one's hand and pulled it away from Lindsey.

"Who the fuck are you?" the man snarled.

Cahill backhanded the smaller man, spinning him around. Before he could recover, the big CO caught a good handful of the man's jumper and began to repeatedly slap him. It was almost casual, the way he didn't even flinch as his slaps brought a froth of blood to the man's lips and nose. When he stopped and released his hold, the little man sagged to his knees, where Cahill drove his knee into the ex con's face. Two guards came up, grabbed the inert figure, and dragged him away.

"That's another six months for him. Assaulting a Co. Either of you two want some more time?"

"Ease off guy, we're walking," the bigger one said, holding his hands up placatingly.

"Beat it then."

Cahill wiped his hands on the tablecloth, watching both men carefully, until they lost themselves in the crowd.

"She's in recovery. Best I get you there, before you cause more trouble on my station," he said grimly, but his eyes were smiling.

Cahill walked her into the recovery ward and took her to Simmons's room. He knocked before entering, motioning Lindsey to stay where she was.

"Come," a raspy female voice called.

"What the hell do you want?" she asked as he stepped in, but her voice was warm.

"Just thought I'd stop in and see how you were making it," he said.

"Same as always," she replied flippantly.

"Really?" he asked seriously.

"All right, it sucks. My skin's crawling. I've never had it this bad before."

"Thought so, that's why I brought a present along," he said.

"I hope it's liquid. I could use a drink."

"You might get a drink, but you'll have to work for it," he laughed, motioning to Lindsey.

The petite girl bit her lip, fought down the rising panic, and forced herself to enter the room. Simmons's joke died on her lips as her face registered complete shock. Lindsey was too embarrassed to speak and only Cahill seemed unfazed.

"Y'all have fun," he said as he exited, pulling the door firmly to behind him.

The silence became very awkward and Lindsey again felt the overwhelming desire to just leave. She noticed she was edging towards the door and exercised a great deal of will power not to just run.

"Hello," she forced herself to say.

"Well, you're not a pro, I can tell that much. Who the hell are you? And what's Cahill up to?" Simmons demanded.

Out of her suit, Simmons seemed less imposing. Her face was angular, with an aquiline nose and sharp jaw. This was offset by large, expressive green eyes, a slightly pug nose, and highly arched brows. Her hair was honey blonde, although it was wild now and unkempt. Her shoulders were wide for a woman, but not especially so. Her arms were muscular and, from the outline of the blanket, her breasts were small. She was staring at Lindsey and she felt her self shrink under that glare.

"My name is Lindsey Cotton," she forced herself to say.

"Lindsey? Not the girl from hell?"

"The same," she said, relaxing when a perplexed, but cute smile creased Simmons's face.

"Well, I will be damned. What are you doing here?"

"I came to say thank you," Lindsey said, blushing.

"Well, don't just stand there, pull up a chair," the blonde said with genuine warmth.

Lindsey pulled up one of the plastic chairs and carefully sat down, demurely crossing her legs. Simmons seemed happy to see her, and that helped calm her nerves.

"So what did you do when you got out?" Simmons asked, obviously trying to break the ice.

"I traveled some. Nothing really exciting."

"Hell, girl, tell me all about it. Anything is exciting after eight months down there."

"First, let me ask you something. Do you find me attractive?"

Simmons laughed then, deeply. So deeply she ended up with tears in her eyes.

"Honey, after eight months down there, Cahill's ugly ass is attractive."

It was meant as a joke, but Lindsey nodded to herself and removed her veil.

"Why did you help me?" she almost whispered, moving closer to the bed.

"I don't know. I help a lot of people," she replied, confusion evident on her face.

"I know you do," Lindsey replied, reaching out and gently dragging a finger along the inside of Simmons's arm.

The blonde's eyes snapped shut, her back arched, and she moaned softly.

"What are you doing?" she said in a breathless whisper.

"I'm not sure," Lindsey replied honestly.

"You'd better stop," Simmons said more forcefully.

"Do you want me to?"

"No, but...you know how it is. If you don't stop now, I won't be responsible for myself."

"I'm not asking you to."

She looked deep into Lindsey's eyes and then nodded slightly. A lot passed between them in that long moment. Things no words could ever really convey. If the eyes were truly the mirrors of the soul, Lindsey looked into those soft green orbs and saw herself reflected. A little older, perhaps, a little wiser, but just as lonely and just as hopeful.

Lindsey hesitantly traced her finger down the inside of Jen's arm, provoking another of those sexy moans. Her skin was soft, but hot to the touch and slippery. Lindsey expected the slippery, remembering the oil they had used on her because her skin had become dry and chaffed once she was out of the suit.

"Fuck. Nothing should feel that good," Simmons proclaimed without opening her eyes.

Lindsey smiled. She could remember just how sensual feeling the station's dry air on her hand had been. She remembered how strange her hair had felt, caressing the back of her neck. How the sheets had felt so rough they almost hurt, but even the nuanced pain was exquisite. She realized suddenly, that she would have to be far more cautious than she first thought, if Jen had it as badly as she had. It also gave her an idea.

Lindsey unpinned her small hat and freed her hair from the binders, allowing it to spill out onto her shoulders. She leaned over and then slowly moved her head, trailing her hair over Simmons's arm.

"Ohmigod," the blonde gasped.

"You like that?"

"It feels...I don't know," she replied helplessly.

Lindsey continued for some time, enjoying the way Simmons bit her lip, tossed her head, moaned and sighed. If her arm was producing such delicious sensation, Lindsey really wondered what would happen when she moved to more sensitive and erogenous areas. It took a good deal of will power to restrain herself from pulling the covers back.

She eventually lowered her face to the bed and brushed her lips over the crease on the inside of the prone woman's elbow. The oil tasted of cinnamon and awakened her taste buds.

"Fuck. Come here," Simmons demanded, trying to pull Lindsey into the bed with her.

She was leaning up and the blanket fell away from her chest as she tried feebly to manhandle Lindsey into the bed. Rather than resist by main force, Lindsey gently cupped and squeezed one of Simmons small breasts. The blonde let out a strangled cry and collapsed back into the bed.

"No fair," she said, with a smile.

Lindsey smiled and gently squeezed again. Simmons's body jerked, like the kites she used to fly did when you pulled hard on the taut string. She found the same childish joy in the reaction she had with the kites, so many years ago.

"You're going to drive me insane," the blonde wailed.

"Shhh, if the nurses catch us they'll throw me out."

"But..."

Lindsey placed a finger on the woman's lips.

"Another day, another place, and we can go faster. This is my first time with a woman and you'll never be this sensitive again. I want to make you feel better than you ever have before. Just relax and feel. Let me touch you."