Dynamics of a Human Heart Ch. 09

"And then what?" Sam asked breathlessly.

"And then Mike was there, right in front of me. He was screaming at me, but I couldn't understand what he was saying. And then, he lifted his hand, like he was going to hit me."

"What did you do?"

"I stabbed him. Right in the stomach," she gave another short, semi-hysterical laugh, "He looked so surprised and then he started to scream."

"Didn't anyone come to check it out?"

Miranda gave a laugh of her own. "The parade: lots of noise and distractions. What perfect timing."

"Large crowd, big festival, no one noticed one missing American tourist. It was just serendipitous it was—"

"The perfect murder," Miranda said, a hint of either admiration or revulsion crept into her voice.

"Yes. Perfect," Isabel said dully.

"What happened next?"

"Next, he died. I don't even remember stabbing him after the first time. When it was over, I remember feeling sticky, of all things, from all the blood. Jorge, he steps behind me and he says "'You were supposed to stab him in the thigh, not the gut.'"

"Sever the femoral artery," Miranda said without missing a beat, "He'd bleed to death in less than a minute."

"I suppose," Isabel gave a miserable shrug, "Jorge looked irritated with me, like I'd knocked over some milk instead of having just stabbed a man to death."

"Yeah, irritation appears to be his default setting." Sam commented dryly.

"Then what happened?" Miranda asked.

"Then, it got strange," Isabel replied, choosing her words with care.

"Now it's strange?!" Samantha choked out.

"These men showed up. I don't know, maybe they were there all the time."

"Who were they?"

"I don't know, they were big, they had strange accents."

"Did they smell of sausage and manure?" Miranda asked, without missing a beat.

Isabel's mouth dropped open, "How did you know?"

"It's the only logical course of action."

"Uh, please repeat that in average person dummy talk?" Sam requested.

"They were criador de cerdos," Isabel replied.

"They were what now?"

"Pig farmers," Miranda explained, "Probably not locals if they had strange accents. My guess is they came from the east; Sardinia or mainland Italy."

"These men, they picked up...the body," Isabel coughed, "They put him in a truck and drove away, and that's it."

"Okay, so what are they going to do with the body?" the blonde girl asked.

"Feed it to their pigs," Miranda informed her.

"Oh, gross!" Sam exclaimed, and then she gave a little laugh, "But cool. I didn't know pigs eat people."

"Pigs are opportunistic omnivores, much like people."

"Oh, there's a flattering comparison."

Miranda took her lover's hand in hers and kissed it before turning her attention back to Isabel.

"Where was the girl Mike was with during all of this?"

"After Mike was taken away, I sort of, snapped out of it and I noticed that Jorge was gone. I leave the alley, the parade is still going on and Jorge is handing the girl an envelope this thick," she held her fingers apart.

"What the fuck?" Sam exclaimed.

"Yes," Isabel refilled her glass and the girl's, "When she left, I asked him who she was."

"Prostitute?" Miranda hazarded a guess.

'"A talented whore, but a gifted grafter,' was what he told me later."

"She was a hooker?" Sam asked.

"Apparently, Jorge had hired her to hook up with Mike and...convince him to come visit Barcelona on that day."

"She was working for him? For how long?" Miranda cried.

"He hired her one week after I was raped. 'A long-term con', he called it."

"He paid this girl to seduce this guy, bring him to Spain so he could murder him on that day at that time?"

"Yes."

"Damn," Sam exhaled, "That's hardcore."

"Yes," Isabel took a long sip from her glass.

"What happened afterwards?" Sam asked, a little breathless.

"Afterwards? We sat down, finished our coffee, then got up and left."

The room was silent.

"One question," Miranda asked.

Sam looked at her agog, "Just the one?"

"You were soaked in blood."

Isabel smiled slightly, "He insisted, before we left, that I pack a coat. I thought he was worried about the weather. It wasn't until he gave it to me inside the alley that I realized it may have been something more."

"Naturally," Miranda gave a semi-amused snort and took a sip from her glass.

"Hey, hold on; how the fuck did Grey, just "happen" to know a bunch of Italian pig farmers?"

"He didn't," Isabel replied.

"Your father?" Miranda asked.

"Yes, I think so."

"How fortuitous. If Grey wasn't orchestrating the deaths of other people, I'd consider it elegant."

"What would you do if it were your daughter?" Sam retorted.

Miranda winced, but nodded, "I'd have fed him to the pigs while he was still alive."

"That's my girl."

Isabel exhaled hard, "So that's it, that's my secret, my sin, and my shame."

"Being raped is nothing to be ashamed of," Sam admonished.

Isabel stared at her, "I just confessed to killing a man and that's all you have to say?"

"That wasn't a man," Sam interjected, "The guy was two-legged vermin, and you shouldn't feel guilty about a fucking thing."

"I took a human life, Sam, doing that...it changes you."

"Yeah, well, I like who you are, so it must have been a change for the better."

Those assembled laughed, Sam's joke having the intended effect of draining the tension from the room.

Miranda came around the table to stand by Isabel; she smiled softly, "Perhaps what you did was wrong, I don't know, I'm not in a position to judge. If you want someone to punish you or forgive you, that's not me. All I can do—"

"All we can do," Sam interrupted.

"—is to promise you that we are your friends and we will stick by you, no matter what," Miranda leaned over and hugged the other woman tightly.

"Thank you," Isabel whispered hoarsely as she wrapped an arm around her, her dark eyes glistening with emotion.

"Amen, sister!" Sam cheered, holding up her wine glass in toast before downing her drink with gusto.

"Hear, hear," Luke added quietly, reaching over to take his wife's free hand in his.

The women parted and Isabel sniffled, wiping at her eyes, "I've never been able to tell that story to anyone except for Luke. To be able to share it with you, I can't thank you enough."

"Then knock it off and help us kill the rest of this bottle!" Sam insisted, holding up the mostly-empty bottle.

"I can drink to that," Isabel said with a smile.

"Come again soon!" Sam cried out the front door at the retreating couple a few hours (and an empty bottle of Vino) later, "Bring more wine, leave the angst at home!"

Isabel's throaty laughter was still echoing in her ears as she closed the door behind them, leaving her in the comfortable stillness of Miranda's presence.

"That was a very good thing you did," she said, leveling a finger at her lover.

Miranda shrugged, "It was the truth, and besides, she needed a little generosity of spirit. You taught me the importance of that back in that boardroom."

"Yeah?" Sam grinned saucily, wheeling towards her, "Is that all you took away from our time together?"

Miranda knew that smile; it led to only one thing.

"Bedroom?"

Sam shook her head, "Nope," she shed her shirt and unclasped her bra, her sun-kissed breasts nearly bursting forth from their silken confines. Her nipples were two, tiny points of firm, pink skin. The sight of them, and the prospect of their taste on her tongue, made Miranda's mouth water as she squeezed her thighs unconsciously, dampness creeping from between.

"Bath?" Miranda hazarded a second guess.

"Nope," Sam unbuttoned her pants and shimmed out of them, her panties following. Soon, was clad only in her socks. Miranda began to approach her, running her tongue across her lips at the sight of her lover's firm thighs and tanned legs leading up to the bare skin of her moisten cleft.

"Right here on the living room floor?"

"Ding! Ding! Ding!"

"I got it right?"

"Very much so."

"What's my prize?"

"One bone-crushing orgasm."

"Is that all?"

Sam pouted prettily, "Oh, you're tough."

Miranda nearly dashed to Sam and, wrapping her arms around her, captured her mouth in a fierce kiss, plumbing her soft mouth with her tongue. She felt Sam's wrap around her own and the two moaned into each other as Miranda reached up to cup Sam's breast in her hand.

Sam broke the kiss, "Get out of those clothes and fuck me already," she hissed urgently.

Miranda pulled off her shirt and bra, exposing her pale breasts like two pale gems tipped with pink. The sight of them made Sam ache with desire and she reached forth to capture one of her nipples between lips. She moaned as Sam suckled at her breast, running her fingers through the girl's blonde hair. Sam licked and nibbled at the firm skin, catching her nipple between her teeth and rolling it back and forth.

Sam tore at Miranda's pants, and finally managed to unclasp Miranda's pants. She shoved them and her panties down past her knees. Sam gripped her hips and buried her face in her soft nest of curls, now damp with arousal. Inhaling her scent deeply, she began to lick at Miranda's wet skin.

Miranda gasped at the sensation and, balancing precariously, stripped her clothes from her legs with her foot before grabbing Sam's head with her hands and holding her flush against her body. She had to brace herself on Sam's chair as her lover continued to lap and suckle at her sex. Soon, she felt all her muscles begin to tighten as she felt Sam's tongue make love to her body, pushing in and out of her over and over again.

"I'm cumming!" Miranda cried out before her ability to speak was denied her, as her entire body trembled and shook, her nether lips clamping down on Sam's tongue like a vise. Sam reached up and cupped her buttocks, pulling her shuddering form flush against her as her tongue lashed against her tiny nub like a fiery whip.

Finally, Miranda pushed herself away from her lover and promptly sank to her knees, spent. Sweat made her short hair a wet tangle and her pale body glistened. "That...was...good," Miranda finally wheezed out and she face-planted into Sam's lap.

Sam chuckled throatily, running her fingers through her lover's damp hair, "So I see, nice to know I haven't lost my touch."

Miranda looked up at her, giving her the look that only the freshly and thoroughly fucked can manage, "You can't fucking be serious," she replied incredulously.

"Language!" Sam admonished her in mock horror.

"Oh, watashi wo yurushite," she commented dryly 'Please forgive me'.

"Forgiven on the grounds that you are not completely in control of your cognitive processes due to endorphins," Sam grinned down at her lover and bent over to kiss her on the head. She tasted like sweetness and salty sweat.

"And on that note," Miranda lunged forth with a speed that Sam was unprepared for. Before she knew it, Miranda had parted her thighs and was proceeding to bury her mouth and tongue into her sex.

"Oh...fuck!" Sam hissed, "Oh, that's so good, baby."

Miranda momentarily looked up from her work to give her a wry look that stated simply 'No shit'.

Sam scowled at her, "At no point did I say you could stop."

Miranda rolled her violet eyes at her, but resumed licking at Sam's flesh, drinking her in, thoroughly intoxicated by her scent and taste.

"Miri...," Sam moaned, running her fingers through Miranda's dark locks, her head lolling back in pleasure. Miranda traced up one side of her cleft with her tongue, before moving down the other, slowly, catching every drop of arousal she could manage and rolling it around on her tongue like a fine wine.

Soon, Sam began to grind herself against Miranda's mouth as the girl lapped and sucked at her skin, teasing out her small bud from her sticky folds and fastening her mouth upon it, licking harder and harder.

Sam's mouth formed a perfect "O" and she pushed Miranda's head deeper between her thighs. She raked her free hand across her breasts, leaving tiny trails of white across her tanned skin. She found her nipple and pulled at it, twisting and turning the small bit of rose-colored skin between her fingers and Miranda continued to suck and lick at her body.

"Miri!" Sam cried out, throwing her head back as ecstasy roared its way through her muscular frame; she shook and quivered as wave after orgasmic wave tore through her blood like a storm. She pulled Miranda's face from her lap and devoured her mouth in a crushing kiss, tasting herself on her lips.

"So fucking good," Sam sighed as her orgasm subsided.

"Is it just me, or do you become a regular chatterbox when we're making love?" Miranda asked wryly.

"It's just you, now get up here," Sam pulled Miranda's thin form up into her lap and kissed her repeatedly, wrapping her strong arms around the other girl and squeezing her tightly.

"I love you," Miranda said quietly, resting her head against Sam's.

"I love you, too,"

"I love you more, and I said it first," Miranda grinned at Sam.

"Brat!" Sam laughed and proceeded to tickle the other girl mercilessly.

"Ack! Quit it!" She squealed in glee and made half-heartedly attempted to get away.

"Take it back!" Sam demanded with a laugh, dancing her fingers all over the other girl's skin, finding just the right places to drive her nuts.

"Fine! Fine! You love me as much as I love you!" Miranda conceded.

Sam abruptly stopped and kissed her lover upon the top of her head.

"If not more," she whispered softly.

Miranda entwined her fingers with Sam's.

"I can live with that."

"Good, because you're stuck with me?"

"Forever?"

"Forever and ever," Sam kissed the other girl softly and rested against her body.

"Thank you," Miranda whispered softly.

"Anytime," Sam replied softly, "Every time."

"I'll hold you to that."

"Good," Sam kissed her hair again, "Now, we need to bathe."

"Will you help me get those hard to reach places?" Miranda asked coyly.

Sam laughed, "Try to stop me."

"Race you!" Miranda dashed off Sam's lap on wobbly legs.

"No fair!" Sam decried, racing after her, "The cripple should get the head start."

"If I ever meet a cripple, I'll be sure to let them know," Miranda shot back.

"And that, is why I love you," Sam beamed.

"What about the orgasms?"

"Well, there is that, as well."

"I thought so," Miranda smiled, "It's fun to be right."

"Oh, absolutely," Sam grinned as she wheeled up beside the other girl, "Given how rarely it happens for you, I'd suggest making the most of it."

"Brat!" Miranda laughed.

"Sneaky brat!" Sam crowed and, having discreetly closed the distance between her and the other girl, now raced past her.

"Hey!" Miranda cried out as Sam reached the bathroom before her.

"Yes! She shoots, she scores, and the crowd goes wild!" Sam cupped her hands around her mouth and imitated the roar of the crowd.

"You little...!"

Sam casually cupped her large breasts and held them up,

"Little?" she leaned over and licked her nipple, pinching it.

Miranda's mouth ran dry, "Okay, now you're fighting dirty."

"And you love it."

"You have no idea," Miranda charged the other girl, who squealed in delight, and the pair of them tumbled to the tile floor amidst kisses and laughter.

The next day was gray and raining. That morning, the girls were curled up together on their bed, a blanket wrapped around them, watching the rain. They sipped hot chocolate from mugs and would occasionally share a kiss whenever the impulse hit them. Mostly, they watched the rain and luxuriated that they were together and that everything would be okay.

"We should get going, you know," Miranda whispered, kissing Sam's ear.

"Shh, don't wanna," Sam admonished, tilting her head to give the other girl easier access to her face.

"Come on, Sammy, Luke and Isabel are waiting for us."

"They drank as much wine as we did, they're probably somewhere cozy too. Besides," Sam gestured out the window, "Cold plus rain equals yucky," she then bopped Miranda lightly on the shoulder, "And don't call me 'Sammy'."

With a heave, Miranda straightened and removed the blanket from the pair, "Duty calls," she said firmly, "Up and at 'em."

"Aw, man," Sammy sighed and rolled over, pulling herself up to the edge of the mattress and depositing herself in her chair.

"You know, I'm glad I didn't take my nice chair to that party, I'd be bummed if I'd left that one there."

"You think we'll ever get the other one back?"

"Yes, Miri, I'm sure Jeff and his friends will be more than happy to just send it on over," she made a face at Miranda, "You know, for a genius—"

"Shut up," Miranda retorted as she got dressed.

"Just sayin'."

"Well, you can stop sayin' and get dressed."

"I still hate this plan."

"Ditto."

"Then why are we doing it?"

Miranda couldn't help herself, "Because it needs to be done."

A beat.

"You still think about him," Sam said quietly, it wasn't a question.

"Sometimes, I'm not hung up on him like I was before, I think, but I notice he's not around. It's like an empty seat at a crowded dinner table; his absence is accentuated."

"I can live with that," Sam replied as she finished pulling on pants and a shirt.

The pair ate a quick breakfast consisting of bagels and some fruit and hurried out into the rain. When it came time to part, the girls lowered their umbrellas and kissed deeply, letting the rain pour down upon them, the coolness of the water contrasting with the heat of their bodies.

"I love you," Miranda said simply as they pulled away.

"I love you too," Sam replied.

"I love you more, I said it first."

Sam laughed and shoved the other girl playfully, "Away with you, ye celestial harlot!"

"Yes ma'am," they exchanged another kiss and dashed off to their respective destinations.

Miranda entered the crowded classroom, looking more than a little bedraggled. Luke covered a smile with his hand, and cleared his throat,

"Good morning Doctor Inoue," he said politely, "I wasn't sure you'd be able to make it. Can I get you something? Coffee? Tea? A towel?"

Miranda gave him a sardonic smile, "Thank you, no, professor, I can manage."

"If you say so," Luke replied with a grin before clearing his throat to address the class, "All right you academic miscreants, listen up!"

The chatter in the room dissolved into an amused silence at Luke's words, "We have something special today." Luke held up a book, "'A Treatise on the Binomial Theorem'." The class groaned at the title. "Silence, you mental pygmies, yes, I know it's filled with scary mathematics, but a physicist needs to be able to be on good terms with numbers if they want to produce anything even remotely competent."

"And it has nothing to do with your wife being a mathematician?" a voice called out from the audience.

"I will see you after class, young man. You shall spend the afternoon copying 'I will not talk back to my academic superiors'."

More laughs as Luke handed the book to Miranda, "Here, take a look."

Miranda looked it over, reading the inside flap: the material was intriguing; it presented information in a way she'd never seen before, and yet, felt familiar. She turned the book over—

Miranda Inoue's heart stopped.

She dropped the book from fingers gone numb.

"Shinseina tawagoto!" she swore savagely.

Luke frowned as he picked up the book, "All right, and for those of us without subtitles available?"

"Rough translation; 'Holy shit!'," a classmate informed him.

"Ah," Luke nodded and peered at the book, then regarded his protégé. She had gone bone white and her violet eyes were wide in what could only be called dawning realization of some terrible truth, "Miranda? You look like you've seen a ghost."