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Archive-name: Bondage/ggb.txt

Archive-author: M.A. Mohanraj

Archive-title: Girl Meets Girl Meets Boy 





Part I

------



	The same old story.  You've heard it a thousand times.  They

meet.  They fall in love.  They fall apart.  They come together.

They, sometimes, live happily ever after.



	Elaine was a computer programmer, with severe eyestrain and

the beginnings of premature arthritis in her cramped hands.  Angie was

her roommate, a brilliant, self-centered, sensitive writer.  Elaine

made $40,000 a year.  Angie was too sensitive to get a job.  Elaine

had gone to a private boarding school and her stubbornly blind parents

had great hopes for a society marriage.  Angie's mother had lived on a

commune in Berkeley, and Angie's first lover was an Asian girl with

hazel eyes and a dancer's body.  Elaine and Angie had been lovers for

two years when they met him.



***



"Goddamnit, Elaine, do you have to leave your tights draped over my

computer?  You've got your own computer to drip on!"

"But I'm working on my computer."  Elaine said reasonably.  "And

they're perfectly dry; I think I just dropped them there last night.

I was really tired when I got home from work."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"What is what supposed to mean?"

"You were really tired, huh?  I guess you think I should go out and

start working at McDonald's to pay my share?  Or maybe you want me to

learn to take dictation?"

"Lay off, Ang.  I meant I was tired, that's all.  I make plenty of

money for both of us."



	Angie was on the verge of tears, tapping her bare foot on the floor of

their sun-drenched apartment.  Elaine continued, "Besides, when your

novel gets published we'll live off the royalties for years.  Come

here."  Elaine stretched out a hand and stared stubbornly at Angie.  Angie

sighed theatrically and walked over to Elaine's desk, taking Elaine's

dark hand between her own hands.  She looked down at their

joined hands and then moaned despairingly.



"Now what?" Elaine asked, slightly exasperated.

"You're so beautiful!  And I'm so pale and ugly!  I can't even tan."

Angie wailed.

"Silly."



	Elaine pulled Angie down into her lap ar arms around her,

pulling Angie back firmly against her own chest.  She gently caressed

the soft white skin of Angie's shoulders, calming the frail and

trembling body.  Elaine buried her face in Angie's red curls,

breathing warmly on her lover's arching neck.



"You're beautiful, silly.  Like an elf, a swan, the moon..."

"A pudgy elf."  Angie muttered, though a smile had begun to creep up

her face.

"A divinely pudgy elf."  Elaine solemnly agreed.

At that, Angie turned in Elaine's arms and pounced, tickling Elaine

mercilessly until they fell off the chair and rolled, laughing, across

the bare hardwood floor.



***



Journal Entry:  April 2



Beautiful Saturday.  Went walking in Grant Park today, through

downtown, down to the lakefront.  Avoided the horse-faced man with the

loudspeaker - too gorgeous a day to argue theology.  Impressions:

crowded streets on this first truly warm day of spring; the horses are

friendlier; even the cops are smiling; Marshall Fields has a new

display in muted sunset colors; musicians are playing everywhere.

Which brings me to him.  With his white-blond hair and cobalt eyes and

tanned body.  With his pathetic plucking and his ragged cut-off jeans

and long, muscled legs.  I swear I could kill Elaine sometimes.  The

way she looks at men and smiles at them and they come chasing after

her with their tongues hanging out and their dicks panting is enough to

make any woman sick.  And she encourages them with that slightly

reserved Massachusetts smile and her oak eyes laughing.  Maybe Cathy

was right.  Maybe you can never really trust bisexuals, even the ones

who promise to be faithful.  They're always flipping back and forth,

always wanting what they don't have.



	And he never even looked at me.



***



	They went walking again next Saturday, and Rob was there

again.  His green Folk Festival t-shirt had a fresh tear down one side

and his guitar sat unused at his feet.  Angie walked over and leaned

against a tree, while Elaine stepped in front of him, looking up and 

down his body.



"What happened?"  Elaine asked.

"What do you mean, what happened?" he replied, shifting uneasily.

Elained walked up and pressed her hand against his side, right under

the tear.  He winced away.  "What happened.?", she asked again.

"It's nothing.  Some guys started harshing on my music last night."

"Yeah, well, you know you're not the world's best musician."  Angie

said, smiling.  He managed a grin at that.  "Awful, is what you mean."

"Right."  Angie agreed.  "But I didn't think you were quite stupid

enough to start a fight over that."

"Peacenik me?  Start a fighT?  Never.  But after a while they got

tired of my silence and started some other stuff."



	Silence.  Elaine kept staring at him, her arms crossed in front of

her.  "They called me a fag.  A queer."  he admitted reluctantly.  "Then

they started beating on me.  Broke two strings on the guitar in the

fight.  Then a police car drove by, sirens blaring, y took off.  Doubt

the cops ever saw me, actually."



	"Take off your shirt.  Angie, will you look him over?"  Elaine asked.

"Please?"



	Angie came over, muttering something about stray cats and started to

reach out towards Rob's shirt.  "Hey, don't touch.  I'm fine."  he 

said as he pulled away.  "Trust me.  I took eight years of tae kwon

do.  I know a lot about injuries.  Take off your shirt."

"I'm only bruised."  he protested.  When Elaine continued glaring at

him he mumbled, "Besides, it hurts to lift my arms enough to take off

this shrt.  And I stink; it's hard to shower when you're living in

parks."



	"You idiot."  Elaine said, without rancor.  "You've probably

got broken ribs, you know.  Let her find out."  Angie started getnly

pressing Rob's chest, holding his arm with her left hand so he

couldn't easily get away.



	"Well, what do you want me to do?  I can't afford a doctor.  I

can't even afford to fix the strings on my guitar.  Not that I really

know how to play it, anyway."  Rob started off angry, but his voice

trailed off despairingly.  "I think he's cracked a few of them, but

not badly.  Nothing's shifting."  Angie explained, blinking up through

her glasses at Elaine.  "If he binds them and stays still for a few

weeks, he should be okay."



	Elaine looked pleadingly at Angie, who sighed and nodded her

head.  "Only till he heals."  Angie warned.  Elaine's smile broke across

her face as she reached down and picked up the guitar case.  



	"You're coming home with us." Angie explainbed.  "I appreciate

the thought, ladies, but I don't need charity."  Rob said, as he tried

to take the guitar case away from Elaine.  She hoisted it easily above

his head.  He tried to reach up to it, and winced again.  She smiled.



	"Yes, you do.  Don't be ridiculous.  Are you afraid we're

going to rape you?"  Angie asked.  "Hey, I'm not really gay, you

know." he protested.  "Those guys just assume that a skinny musician

with an earring has to be a fag.  I'm terribly dangerous where women

are concerned.  They swoon at my feet."  Angie laughed and started

walking to the bus.  "But you are queer, aren't you?"  Elaine asked,

ignoring his latter comments.



	Angie turned back to him, startled.  He looked defensive for a

moment, and then said defiantly, "Actually, yes.  I'm bi.  So I really

don't think it would be a good idea for you to invite me into your

home.  You're both far too attractive and I wouldn't be able to

control myself.  I think we can handle an invalid."  Elaine commented.

"Besides, you don't seem to have understood.  ANgie and I are

together.  Have been for years.  You'll be perfectly safe.  Ang, could

you get his bag?"



	"Oh." Rob blushed.  "I feel stupid."  "That's okay," Angie

said as she picked up his one duffle bag.  "You look stupid too."

"Thanks a whole lot"  he replied, starting to laugh.



	"You're welcome."  Elaine said, smiling.  "Now come on."



***



Part II

-------



Journal Entry - April 16



He's been here forever.  He's so happy it turns my stomach.  He hums

when he does dishes.  He sings in the fucking shower.  IF I didn't

know better, I'd swear he was getting laid, but he's not really healed

yet, I've been watching Ellie like a falcon and I certainly haven't

touched him.  Not (if we're being completely honest here) that I

haven't thought about it.  We've been trapped for hours together in

this apartment while she's at work and though he's a pigheaded idiot,

he does have a very nice body.  Which he loves to display at every

opportunity, despite the bandages.  Men don't deserve to be in such

good shape.  I'm a blob next to him.  And they would look so gorgeous

together - yin and yang, as they say, black and white.  Damn, I hate

men.



***



"Hey, Ellie?"

"Mmmhmm?"

"Are you asleep?"

"Uh huh."



	Angie curled closer, burying her face against her lover's bare

shoulder blades.



"Ellie?"

"Mmmhmmm?"



	Silence stretched out in the darkened room, silence broken

only by the whir of the fan.  Summer had come hot and early.



"Never mind."



	Angie loosened her death-grip on Elaine and started to pull

away.  "Hey, what's up?"  Elaine rolled over to face her lover and

blinked the sleep out of her own eyes.  She tried to focus in the

dimness lit only by Angie's night light.  "Nothing.  Go back to

sleep."  Angie said, nestling her head against Elaine's breasts.  "You

okay?"  Elaine asked, tangling her fingers in Angie's curly hair and

tugging gently.  Angie didn't answer.  Her body coiled tightly against

her lover, tensing.  "Hey...I love you."  Elaine said.



	Angie started crying.  Silent tears falling down a freckled

nose and dripping off the end turned to heaving sobs.  Elaine wrapped

her arms around Angie and held her, utterly confused.



	Eventually Angie stopped crying, but she still refused to

speak.  Elaine soon fell asleep again, her legs and arms entwined with

her lover's.  Angie stayed awake, staring fixedly at the little Mickey

Mouse night light, glowing red.



***



						April 30th



Dearest Elizabeth,



	It's two a.m. and the sky here is glowing orange from the

streetlights.  It's beautiful - I wish you could see it.  I hope you

and Michael are doing well and the kids are healthy.  Has little

Elaine started talking yet?  I promise to come visit soon and be

sickeningly mushy about my godchild.  Even if she doesn't look

anything like me.



	Have those problems with your boss straightened out?  I really

think you should leave that job.  You loved teaching so much - go back

to it.  Michael certainly makes enough that you don't need to slave

away at the Ad Agency from Hell (tm) - And don't go getting all

independent on me - if I can support Ang, Michael can support you.

The kids already treat him as their father - I doubt they even

remember that bastard you married.



	Okay, your turn to give advice.  Lizzie, I don't know what I'm

doing.  Last time you called, I told you about that waif I had picked

up.  What I didn't tell you then (because they were both in the

room) is that I'm falling for him.  Hard.  He's gorgeous, Lizzie; you'll drool

when you meet him.  And strang and proud and funny and passionate -

about life, that is.  I haven't touched him; not quite.  The

occasional brushing arms, the spark of eyes - and it is a spark.  I'm

sure he feels the same way about me; but he hasn't said a word.  And

he's very careful to never be alone with me; and I keep finding

excuses to be near him.



	What do I do?  I'm sure Ang suspects something, but she won't

say anything.  She doesn't even touch me anymore - we sleep on

opposite edges of the bed and the air in this place is stifling.  I

think I'm going to go for a walk in the park and clear my brain. I'll

finish this when I get back.



*****





Part III

--------



	"Elaine?"  Angie sat bolt upright on the large futon, eyes

searching wildly in the darkness.  The night light had gone out and

the room was pitch black.  "Elaine!"  Angie's voice grew louder,

calling, and then she crumpled into a small white ball, wrapping her

arms around her knees and sobbing her lover's name over and over.

"Elaine, Elaine, Elaine, Elaine..."  Her voice started to rise 

again to a shriek, and the door suddenly swung open and Rob came into

the room.  He left the door open behind him and the moonlight clearly

lit the small figure of Angie, rocking.  He hesitated only a moment by

the door before he crossed over to the futon and dropped to his knees 

beside Angie.  



	Rob reached out a hand, slowly, as if expecting it to be

pushed away, but Angie only continued rocking, her head buried in her

knees and only her mane of auburn curls covering her naked shoulders.

Her feet and lower body were trapped in the twisted green sheets and

he reached out gently to pull them free.  The touch of his hand on 

her leg provoked fresh sobs, however, and Angie's entire body started

trembling, shivering despite the heat.  At that, he suddenly moved 

closer to her, gathering her small body in his arms, murmuring reassurances.

She turned into Rob's arms, soaking his shoulder with salty tears.  He

pressed soft kisses into her hair, holding her tightly, his skin cool

against her almost feverish heat.  "It's all right, Angel...it's all

right.  She'll be back soon.  She just went for a walk, I'm sure.

Look at the table; her keys are gone.  It's all right, don't worry."  



	Angie finally lifted her head at that to look at the table,

reassuring herself that Elaine's keys were indeed gone.  She turned

her head to look up into Rob's dark blue eyes.  "She's not with you?",

she asked plaintively.  With that question, Rob suddenly realized why

Angie had become so brittle around him lately, so sharp-edged.  He

laughed and hugged her, glad that he could honestly calm her fears.

"No, Angel.  I haven't touched her.  Not that she isn't gorgeous, but she 

seems to be avoiding me.  And I didn't want to intrude on you two.

You've got a wonderful relationship, and I'd just get in the way."



	He smiled down at her suddenly glowing face in the moonlight.

"Now go back to sleep.  Elaine will be back soon, I'm sure."  Rob bent

to press a gentle kiss on her nose before going, but Angie suddenly

tilted her head upward, so that his lips landed on hers instead.  She

arched her body up to meet his.  Wrapped only in bandages and a thin

pair of shorts, he could feel intimately the warmth of her lush body

pressing against him, and felt himself dissolving in the wholly 

unexpected kiss.  Rob found himself returning the kiss with surprising

passion; tension and emotion and undoubted attraction combining to

override his good judgement and send them both spiraling down into darkness.  



	The bedroom door swung back and forth unnoticed, occasionally

slamming in the rising wind as the gathering storm finally began to

break free.



*****



Part IV

-------



	Damp sand caught between her toes as Elaine walked the narrow

strip of beach.  The wind was rising, whipping the waves to a high

froth in the moonlight, sending her long chiffon skirt dancing.  She

was a slim figure in the night, barely visible, black on black.



	She paused as she neared the jagged rocks at the edge of the

beach, carefully climbing her way up to a precarious perch high

against the glow of the city far to the north.  Her mind was as

troubled as the roiling water in the rising storm.  As she gazed out over

the churning waves, she was suddenly struck by an intense longing for

New England, for hills and forests green and gold in sunlight.  But

she could never go back.  It would mean giving up Angie if she came

anywhere in her parents' sphere...and Elaine knew suddenly that she would

never choose to do that.  Angie was the other half of her heart, and

nothing, not even a beautiful man with hair like the light of early

morning could ever replace her.  Elaine would miss the East forever,

and she still didn't know where Rob would fit into their lives, but 

home was where Angie was, wherever that might be.



***



	They came at her from behind.  Five men, large in memory and

darkness, pulling her off the rocks to lie huddled on the dark sands,

moaning.  They didn't let her huddle long.  They tore her clothes off,

delighting in her frantic struggles to escape, to run on long legs

home to safety.  She never had a chance.  Finally she lay bare in the

moonlight, the first drops of rain a deceptively gentle caress while

they held her down and dared each other to go first.



	People in her past had said that her body was made for love,

its long smooth limbs curving gently, her firm breasts begging for

silky touches and long, slow teasing.  Men had fought to be the first

to offer her roses or ask her to the prom.  Women had written her

sonnets.



	They had no time or concern for her beauty.  She was foolish

enough to walk on the beach after midnight.  Her screams were lost in

the howling of the storm.  She was there, and she was theirs.



	When they had finished, they left her there on the sands

dangerously darker.  The rain battered down with the full force of

storm, pelting her shattered body with the power of its fury.  It was

an endless time before anybody else came by to see the wreckage.



*****





Part V



------



	Rob pushed open the door cautiously, unsure of his reception.

The last time he'd ventured into the bleak white room, Angie had

grabbed a glass from the night stand and hurled it at his head.  He'd

quickly ducked out into the pale green corridor, pulling the door

closed and listening to the thump as the glass, amazingly, didn't

break.  He'd spent the next two hours walking the newly washed floors

and badgering every doctor and nurse who walked past the intensive

care ward.  Elaine's chart was smudged with fingerprints from all the

times he'd picked it up, skimming past the unintelligible medicalese

to the large block letters printed in black at the bottom:  Prognosis

Uncertain.  It was almost dawn now, as he stepped into the sterile

room, and the gradually ligtening sky was the only illumination, aside

from the small glowing red and green lights of the myriad of

instruments connected to Elaine's still body.



	This time, Angie didn't look up as he walked towards her.  She

sat huddled in a chair pulled close to the bed.  Elaine's limp brown

hand was firmly clasped in two of her own freckled palms.  She'd finally

stopped crying, though the marks of almost a full day of tears had

ravaged her face.  Tears still hovered somewhere behind

preternaturally bright green eyes.  Rob was suddenly shaken with the

memory of how they had laughed two nights ago at how easily she cried.

Laughed softly as they sank into sleep, waiting for Elaine to come

home.  Slept until almost five, when the shattering call from the

hospital had woken them both.



	He pulled out an apple from his jacket pocket and silently

offered it to Angie.  She finally looked up at him and shook her head.



	"I'll eat when she does."



	"She's on intravenous food. She'll be fine.  And she'll eat

solid food when she wakes up.  You'll starve if you keep this up,

Angel; you haven't eaten in days."



	"I'm not hungry.  And she'll never wake up."  Angie said, in a

despairing monotone totally unlike her usual vibrant voice.  Rob was

tempted to grab those pale shoulders and shake her until she came to

her senses.  She shivered in the air-conditioned chill.  Rob took off

his jacket and roughly draped it over her thin black tank top.  She

was even paler and smaller than usual, a startling contrast to the

enveloping blue jean jacket.  Even her hair seemed dulled after this long

vigil, the color of dried autumn leaves instead of a crackling fire.

Rob reached out to lose his fingers in the tangle, bending down to

her, hoping perhaps to drown out the antiseptic hospital smell in the

scent of her hair.



	Angie jerked away sharply, her left hand rising quickly to slap

him away.  Rob caught it in his right, suddenly furious with

frustration and fear, and squeezed tightly until she gasped with 

startled pain.



	"Let go of me!"  she shouted.



	"We're supposed to be quiet.  Remember?"  he asked coldly.

"And I'll let go once you tell me what that was all about."



	"Just don't touch me."  she whispered, tears welling up again,

and her hand becoming limp in his.  Limp and cold, 'like Elaine's' he

couldn't help thinking.  Rob suddenly stepped closer, dropping her

hand so he could cradle her freckled face in his two tanned hadns.



	"Hey, I'm sorry, Angel. I'm just so tense, so tired of sitting

here and waiting, not able to do anything to help her."  He stared

into her gray-green eyes, willing her to believe him, to forgive him.

She stared back, her eyes empty.



	"It's our fault, you know."  she said, tonelessly.



	"What?"  Rob asked, dreading the words that he was sure would

echo his own guilty thoughts.



	"It's our fault."  Angie's voice began rising dangerously.

"If we hadn't been...fucking..." she spat out, "We would have gone out

and found her and she wouldn't have gotten raped, and she wouldn't have

been beaten, and she wouldn't be lying here in a coma and about to die

and it's all our fault!"  Angie's voice trailed off into muted sobs,

almost inaudible under the hum of the machines.



	Rob pulled her up into his arms.  She went, unresisting,

uncaring.  He began to stroke her hair, trying to find the words to

absolve her, and absolve himself of their communal guilt.



	"We couldn't have known, Angel.  We didn't know she'd been

gone so long; we didn't know she'd been stupid enough to walk alone on

the beach.  Elaine usually has too much sense for that sort of thing.

We'll yell at her for it when she wakes up.  And I'm sure she'll yell

back." he finished, trying to cheer her with the image of their

normally sedate Elaine irritated enough to yell.



	Angie tilted her head back and looked up at him, the tears

falling now in a continuous stream.  Her pale face was luminescent in

in the light of awakening dawn streaming through the window.  She shivered

like a ghost, a pale waif, a silent wailing banshee.  Angie shook her head,

staring at him as if begging for reassurance.  Rob leaned down and

gently kissed her forehead, lifting his hand and smoothing back her

bedraggled hair with shaking fingers.  "It'll be all right." he

murmured as he bent to kiss Angie's flushed lips, unsure whether he was

reassuring her or himself.  She trembled in his arms, almost pulling

her lips away for one endless second before surrendering to his offer

of comfort and losing herself in his embrace.



	His hands slid under the still-cold jacket and roamed across her

back, kneading the rigid muscles through the thin fabric of her top.

Angie's palms were pressed flat against his chest, her fingernails

digging through the cloth, into the roughened skin above the grimy

bandages.  She kissed him fiercely, thrusting her tongue against his

mouth, pressing her hips against his.  Rob pushed the jacket off her

shoulders, to fall heavily onto the floor.  His hands slipped under

her tank top, pushing her bra up over her breasts, freeing them to

slide loose and heavy into his cold hands.  Angie moaned in his mouth

as his fingers reached up to caress her nipples, arching herself

against his hard length.



	Rob broke the kiss to bend down to her breasts, pulling the

tank and bra off quickly.  His tongue circled her left nipple gently,

once, before he took it in his mouth and began sucking hard.  Angie

moaned again at that, curling her hands in his tangled hair and

pulling him towards her.  He slid a hand down her right hip, reaching

to unbutton her jeans.  Angie's body was curved against his, her face

buried in his bedraggled blond hair.  Rob lifted his head to switch 

to the other nipple.  It was then that he looked across the room and 

met Elaine's wide-open eyes.





	He quickly broke away from Angie...and then stood still, once

more uncertain of what to say or do.  Angie still faced away from 

Elaine's bed, almost blinded by the morning light as she looked up

at him, blinking in confusion.



	"Rob, what..." she started, before the sound of a hoarse cough

behind her sent her spinning around to face her lover.



	Elaine coughed again, and then reached out a faltering hand.

Rob wasn't sure whom Elaine was reaching towards.  Neither he nor 

Angie moved in that second.  Then Elaine said "Ang..." in a voice 

hoarse with disuse, and Angie rushed to her, tears falling like rain

as she tried to hug Elaine oh-so-carefully.



	Rob tried to suppress the sharb stab of hurt.  What else had

he expected, after all?  And after what Elaine must have just seen, he

was sure he wasn't welcome anymore.  He'd just stay long enough to

apologize, and then be on his way.



	So he stood there watching them.  They looked like characters

from a myth:  Elaine, newly risen from the dead, yet joyous in the

arms of her love.  And the healing angel, wearing a mantle of hair

touched with flame in the shaft of sunlight.



*****



End of Part V



M.A. Mohanraj

September 28, 1993



-- 



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