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Subject: {ASSM} Sonuachara 7 (ff rom teen)
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Standard disclaimers apply; this story may or may not contain, in any
given part, graphic depictions of lesbianism, homosexuality, group sex,
bdsm, underage (teen) sex, magic, occultism, violence, and biting 
sarcasm.  If you're underage, or if for any other reason it's illegal 
for you to read this, or you're disturbed by the content, please don't 
read it.

Archived at http://prudence.pele.cx, and we've got a web-forum at
http://playground.pele.cx/forums as well, for discussion of both
Prudence and our other stories.

Comments *greatly* appreciated.

Enjoy,

Velvet
---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Outside, Trina leaned back against the hood of her car. "What was she
talking about?"

Zoe swallowed hard and looked away.

"Tell me," Trina said.

Zoe shook her head. "Not here."

"Okay." Trina nodded. "Later, then?"

"I... don't know," Zoe said. "I don't know if I can."

"Why not?" Trina asked, frowning.

Zoe turned away, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. "Because it
still hurts too bad."

Trina sighed. "Tell me this much. Is her mother a danger?"

"_God_, yes," Zoe snarled.

"Then she won't get to see Brenna. One way or the other."

"They won't be that crazy," Zoe said. "They can't be."

"I hope not." Trina laughed. "Maybe we'll get lucky and she'll have a
heart attack or something."

"I won't risk them leaving that bitch alone with her," Zoe said,
turning back. "Not ever. I'll slit the slut's throat before I'll let
that happen." She turned away again, her expression never
softening. "You don't understand."

Trina didn't answer her immediately. "I do. It won't come to
that. But... if it does, I'll provide an alibi."

Zoe sighed, slumping against the car. "It won't. I won't let it, I'll
take her away from here. But... the physical therapy is helping. And
they've got her an appointment with a plastic surgeon. And her
lungs... she still gets sick so easily... a bad cold could kill her if
it's not treated properly."

"I'll see if Mom knows anything that could help that," Trina said.

"There isn't anything," Zoe said, shaking her head and plopping down
in the seat. "She's had the best doctors... the case got a lot of
media attention, and there were tons of donations... there's still a
trust fund for her medical care, enough to keep paying her doctors and
get the scars fixed."

Trina shrugged. "You never know what -- or who -- my Mom will know,
you know? She might know someone who specializes in this sort of
thing."

"I'm not saying 'don't'. I won't turn down help for
Brenna. But... well... don't get your hopes up."

"I know," Trina said, nodding. "But I know my mom. She's always come
through for me."

Zoe sighed and buckled her seat-belt. "Okay." She glanced at her
watch. "I need to be at the motel in an hour. You can drop me off at
our rendezvous point."

"Okay."

#

Trina didn't pull into a parking spot when she picked Zoe up a few
hours later, just stopped on the street so that she could hop over the
door and toss her bag in the back.

"Push it," Zoe said. "Let's get out of here."

Trina nodded, taking off. "Did you get what you needed?"

"_OH_, yes," Zoe said, smiling grimly. "They're just lovely." She
patted her pockets where the polaroids resided. "Just need to make
copies for... broader... distribution, and decide who gets the honor
of the originals -- the newspaper, or their church bulletin board."

Trina looked at her sideways. "I'm surprised, Zoe. I didn't think
you'd miss a trick like this."

"Hmm?" Zoe asked. "You have a better idea?"

Trina nodded. "How old did you say his playmate was?"

"He's fifteen," Zoe said. "But I don't want to send it to the
cops. He's consenting. And he'd be worse off if they picked him up."

"If his face was blurred out, would it be obvious that he was
underage?" Trina asked thoughtfully.

"Probably," Zoe said. "He's small, slender, and short."

Trina nodded. "Then you give them to the cops, suitably blurred. You
tell them when the assignation is. You tip _him_ off to check for cops
before he shows up. If the guy shows up at the right time, they'll
have enough to arrest him even without catching him in the act. _Then_
you post the pictures everywhere."

"Hmm," Zoe said. "They'll show. According to Maria, they show up
almost every week."

Trina blinked. "Wait. _Both_ of them?"

"Mm-hmm."

"Ewww." Trina shuddered.

"Yeah," Zoe said. "But Maria says he told her they pay him $200.
$300, if he lets them spank him."

"_Double_ ewww."

Zoe frowned suddenly as Trina turned on to the highway. "Ah... where the
hell are we going?"

"Huh?" Trina asked. "To my place, remember?"

Zoe flushed. "Oh. Right. I forgot."

"It's a cool place."

"Lots of nice houses out this way," Zoe said.

"Yeah."

Zoe sat quietly, her discomfort growing, as they got further out of
town. Trina lived about twenty miles out of town, up on a ridge
overlooking the lake. Her house was big. _Real_ big. Probably as big
as the school, or at least it looked that way.

"We're here," Trina said, pulling into the garage.

"Mm-hmm," Zoe said.

"Oh, hey -- I meant to ask. You haven't eaten, have you? Mom and Dad
held supper, just in case," Trina said.

Zoe looked at her, a touch exasperated, but shook her head. "No, I
haven't eaten yet."

"Good," Trina said, giving her an odd smile. "You're glad."

Zoe raised an eyebrow at her. "Am I? That should be an interesting
feeling."

"You haven't had Mom's cooking before," Trina said. "Trust me on
this. You're glad you haven't eaten yet."

"I'll take your word for it," Zoe said, smiling tightly.

"C'mon," Trina said, hitting a button on the wall to close the garage
door. "I told you she doesn't bite."

Zoe sighed, very, very quietly, and followed her into the house.

"Mom? Dad? We're home," Trina called, leading her into the dining
room, where her mother was just setting the last dish on the table.

Trina's mother may just have been the most intimidating person Zoe had
ever met. Angie was an older version of Trina, with an impressive air
of refined elegance about her. She also had an incredible sense of
power and self-confidence; there was absolutely no doubt in Zoe's mind
that Angie was completely used to being obeyed. There was also no
doubt in her mind that she was used to getting what she wanted. Zoe
could tell that if she wanted someone to do something, they'd better
do it unless they were prepared for a battle, because she wouldn't
give up without a fight. On the other hand, while her presence was
intimidating, she was also completely friendly. Zoe had enough
experience with people faking it that she could usually tell, and
either Zoe's mother was an extremely good actor or she was actually
happy to see her.

"You must be Zoe," she said, holding out her hand. "I'm very glad to
meet you."

Zoe shook it, somewhat stiffly, trying to figure out why that sense of
power and self-confidence seemed so familiar. "Hi."

A man wearing jeans and a t-shirt walked in the other door. "Zoe,
right?" He offered his hand. "Good to meet you. I'm glad you could
make it; Trina told us you had some important business to take care of
this evening."

Zoe shook his hand quickly. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you would be
waiting on me."

He waved his hand. "We usually eat late on Fridays. This isn't that
late. Have a seat."

Zoe sat down, poised on the edge of the seat, as everyone else
did. 

"Roast beef and rosemary potatoes," Trina said. "You're going to
love it."

Zoe smiled, shooting Trina an undecipherable look.  "I'm sure."

Angie and Thomas were very good at putting people at their ease. Zoe
did her best to fake it, trying to be polite, but she could tell that
Angie didn't buy it for a moment. On the other hand, she didn't push
it either, and she didn't make a point out of not buying it.

Trina was right; the food was the best Zoe had ever had in her
life. She couldn't pin down _why_, exactly; she thought it was
something in the seasoning, but she couldn't have said what.

Zoe got the distinct feeling that Angie never missed _anything_; she
was pretty sure Trina didn't notice how much she ate, but Angie
did. And she got the oddest feeling that Angie was looking from her to
Trina and back again, but she couldn't actually catch her _doing_
it. She couldn't even catch her in a position where she _could_ be
doing it.

It made her feel distinctly paranoid, and she doubled her attempt to
look like a high-school student with harmlessly rebellious hair and
jewelry. She even thought about venturing a giggle about a boy, but
decided that if she did she'd have to wash her mouth out with soap
afterwards and it wasn't worth it.

Near the end, she did see Angie glance at her. Her eyes widened, and
she whispered something Zoe couldn't make out.

Zoe's head was turned just enough for her to catch Trina's blush, and
the nod in answer to the question.

What the hell? 

She'd gotten the impression, as she got to know her, that Trina was
like an iceberg, with only a small part of the real Trina showing, but
what was this about? She couldn't help but frown slightly, and she saw
Trina's blush intensify.

Good. Maybe Trina would start thinking about how to answer the
questions she had to know Zoe had.

After dinner, they moved to another room, with warm wood-paneled
walls, bookshelves, and a liquor cabinet. Two of the chairs had
ashtrays beside them, and Trina motioned her to one of them, sitting
down in the chair beside it.

Zoe was wondering if she dared pull out her cloves, when Angie opened
the liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle of whisky. "Do you prefer
your whisky straight, or on the rocks?" she asked.

Zoe stared at her, shocked. "Thank you, but no, I really don't drink."
She slid her pack of cloves out of her pocket, deciding that if they
didn't object to alcohol.... "But if you don't mind?"

"I didn't think you did," Angie said, handing her daughter a glass
with perhaps two fingers of liquid in it. "I'd appreciate it if you'd
make an exception in this case, however. It's a MacCeallaich tradition
that serious matters are discussed over serious liquor, and we take
our traditions seriously."

Zoe squirmed uncomfortably, looking at the glass in Trina's hand and
wondering how she was going to get home. "I don't... it's genetic,
see, my father was...." She ran a hand through the long part of her
hair in a quick, nervous gesture, turning the pack of cigarettes over
and over in her other hand. "A tiny bit.  Watered down, please," she
said, surrendering.

Angie smiled. "Can we compromise on 'on the rocks'?"

Zoe considered it. Ice melted. "Sure." She was more than a bit freaked
out, wondering what the hell was going on, but she'd be damned if
she'd admit it.

Angie handed her a glass with slightly less whisky than Trina's. "Here
you go." She nodded at the cigarettes. "Go right ahead." She sat down,
and raised her glass. "Behgawn og us ah rah go mah."

Trina looked at her. "It means, 'say little, but say it well'. It's
traditional for these sorts of things." She took a sip of her drink,
obviously used to it.

Zoe wondered what 'these sorts of things' were, and decided she needed
to have words with Trina about not warning her.

Angie looked at her, and any trace of humor vanished. "Trina tells us
there's a little girl in danger. What do we need to do to protect
her?"

Zoe stiffened, spine as rigid as steel. "What's the cost?  I'm not
saying I won't pay it... but what is it?"

Thomas shook his head, his deep voice calm. "It's not your cost. It's
ours. We have all this," he waved his hand at the house, "and we're
obligated to do what we can to help others. If we don't, we're being
pretty damned ungrateful."

Zoe clenched her jaw. "You don't understand.  Bren's my
responsibility.  _Mine_.  I owe her, and I promised I'd take care of
her.  Not that I'd pass it on to someone else."

"Is it taking care of her to refuse help when it's offered? If she was
to be adopted, would you refuse to let her new parents take care of
her?" Angie asked.

Zoe fought down the instant of rage the question produced, feeling
instantly guilty. She swallowed, forcing herself to appear calm, and
said, "She won't be. Not for a couple more years, anyway."

"How can you know that?" Thomas asked.

"Because I'm the only one who wants her, and I won't be able to adopt
her until I'm 18," Zoe snapped.

"But what if someone does?" Angie asked, leaning forward, her drink in
her hand. "Will you refuse to let them take care of her?"

Zoe gritted her teeth. "They won't.  They _can't_.  I promised her.
Foster parents are okay...if they treat her right.  But I promised her
I wouldn't let anyone take her away."

Thomas set his glass down. "Would you really deny her the chance at
happiness? If someone wanted to adopt her, someone who could take care
of her? Someone who loved her?"

Zoe looked at him, feeling panicked. "You don't understand.  I
promised.  Love isn't enough sometimes...no matter how much they loved
her, they wouldn't understand, because they weren't _there_, and
they'd hurt her without ever meaning to.  If she were mine by blood,
would you expect me to be happy to let someone take her?"

"They wouldn't understand what?" Trina asked.

Zoe swallowed, shoving her hands in her pockets. "I don't talk about
it."

"I know," Trina said. "But... please? We want to help. If we can't, at
least tell us why."

Zoe felt sick. "You really wanna know, look it up.  You've got the
names, and you know it got attention.  I don't have to tell you," she
said, tiredly.

Angie leaned forward again. "Then let us help. If you want to help
her, you need to use the resources you've got. Right now, _we_ are one
of the resources that you've got."

"_Why_?" Zoe asked. "I've already asked you, what's the price?
Nothing is free.  _Nothing_ is ever free.  Everybody wants something
for their help.  Everyone has some angle of their own.	It's not even
_bad_, it's just the way it _is_."

Angie nodded. "You're quite right there, as far as it goes, but you
aren't taking it far enough. Helping others is part of the price _we_
pay for what we have. If we extracted a price from you in exchange, we
wouldn't be paying our price."

Zoe looked at her coldly. "Why?  No one's going to make you pay.  In
this world, if you've got it, it's assumed you deserve it.  And if
you've got shit, it's assumed you deserve _that_, too.	No one cares
if you're 'good' or not.  Even the churches can be bought off."

"_We_ would know. And our family would know," Thomas said, firmly.

Zoe ran her hand through her hair again, then fumbled out another
cigarette. "What do you people _want_ from me?	You have some need to
help somebody and wanna help my Bren... fine.  Keep her psychotic
mother the fuck away from her and make sure she's got enough in her
fund for her doctors.  But if you decide someone owes you for that
help, then that someone is _me_, not her.  Got it?"

"Of course," Angie nodded. "But no one will owe us for that help." She
leaned back in her chair, sipping her drink. "I understand there was
another reason you'd initially wanted to talk to me tonight?"

Zoe glared at Trina. "There was _only_ one thing I intended to talk
about tonight.	I can't let Trina put something on the babies unless I
know what's in it.  Even if it helps.  If one of them has a reaction, we've
gotta know what they've been exposed to."

Angie pursed her lips. "Reasonable enough, I suppose, but it _is_ a
family secret...although..." She straightened slightly. "Will you give
me your word that you won't tell anyone unless one of the babies who
have been exposed to it develops a rash?"

"Sure," Zoe said. "It doesn't matter to me.  I don't intend to make
any, or sell any, or the recipe or anything.  I've already told Trina
I don't need proportions or preparation.  Just the ingredients so if
there's a problem, we'll know."

Angie nodded. "If I have your word, then I suppose there's no harm in
letting you have it."

Zoe nodded.

"Okay, then. I'll write you up a list." She took another sip of her
drink. "What do you think of the director?"

Zoe shrugged. "She does her best.  Overworked, understaffed, and not
any sort of organizational genius, but she tries."

Thomas nodded. "So basically not a bad sort, then?"

"Yeah, she's not bad," Zoe said.

"That's good to know."

The conversation degenerated into small talk. Zoe became more and more
uncomfortable, and after an hour suddenly realized that Angie was quite
expertly getting far more information out of her than she would
normally tell _anyone_.

Almost immediately afterward, Thomas and Angie announced that they
were heading to bed, leaving her alone with Trina. She decided not to
tear into Trina immediately, but she was _not_ happy with her, and she
didn't bother to hide it.

Trina leaned back. "Hey, I've got a question for you."

"You don't seem to have any problem asking questions," Zoe said
coolly.

Trina grinned. "Not really. Listen. We've got a couple of options. We
can wait around for a couple of hours, so that there's no risk if I
get pulled over and have to do a breathalyzer, or...."

"Or?"

"There's a guest room next to mine," Trina said. "I could drop you off
with Brenna in the morning. I have to go down that way anyway."

Zoe looked at her watch and shook her head. "I can walk. It's not a
big deal."

Trina blinked. "It's twenty odd miles!"

"Average human walking speed is four miles per hour." Zoe grabbed her
bag. "An easy jog doubles that."

Trina looked at her for a moment. "Sticking around and letting me
drive you would still get you back faster. Are you mad at me for
something?"

"I'm not particularly pleased with you right now, no."

"What did I do?" Trina asked.

"I agreed to come to discuss a _recipe_," Zoe said stiffly. "A simple
thing."

"It's not as simple as you think," Trina said. "I... honestly, I
didn't think you'd get it that easily."

"Then you should have _said_ so.  You _knew_ what I was expecting,"
Zoe said.

"I'm sorry," Trina said. "You're right, I should have warned you. I
wasn't thinking."

Zoe didn't answer, feeling oddly hurt.

"I really am sorry," Trina said. "I shouldn't have put you on the spot
like that without warning."

"No. You shouldn't have," Zoe said shortly.

"I just... I wanted to help Brenna," Trina said.

Zoe sighed. "I know.  That's why I'm still talking to you."

"Look, if it's any consolation, my mother likes you."

Zoe snorted. "I have no idea how you could possibly tell _that_.   And
it doesn't matter.   Look...you keep asking me to trust you.  Then,
when I do, you pull _this_ on me?  What the hell am I supposed to
think about that, huh?"

Trina sighed. "I know. It was a mistake. I do make them occasionally,
you know. I'm not perfect. And it's easy to tell my mother likes you."

Zoe took out a cigarette and lit it, leaning back on the couch and
letting the bag slump off her shoulder. "Oh?"

Trina nodded. "She didn't do anything. If she _hadn't_ liked you, I'd
know.

"Didn't 'do' anything?" Zoe asked. "Implying if she hadn't, she would
have done _what_?  Called the cops?  Shot me?"

Trina shook her head. "No, but I'd definitely know. You probably would
have picked up on it too."

Zoe didn't say anything to that, just took a long drag off her
cigarette. "Your dad seems sweet."

"He is," Trina nodded. "He helps keep me and Mom grounded."

"Look," Zoe asked, "_Why_ the interrogation?"

"Mostly because our family recipes aren't given out to just anyone,"
Trina said. "I'm serious here. Like Mom said, we take our traditions
seriously."

"Look," Zoe said, "We could have come up with something.   Add half a
dozen false ingredients.  Write and seal the list and it could stay
that way _unless_ there was a problem.	Something."

Trina nodded. "I figured she'd do something like that. That's another
way I know she liked you." She bit her lip, looking at Zoe. "And she
likes to know about my friends. She doesn't like all of them." She
smiled shyly. "I'm glad she likes you."

Zoe sighed. She couldn't stay mad at Trina, for some reason. "I just
don't like...talking about things.  It's nothing personal.  I just
don't do it."

"Sorry," Trina said.

Zoe sighed again. "I do need to get back.  I don't want to cause
trouble right now.  This wouldn't be a good time to get moved."

"I thought you were ditching tonight?"

"I did, but...."  Zoe shrugged.  "I changed my mind.  I shouldn't.  Not
right now, not if it can be avoided."

"Okay," Trina said, sounding disappointed.

"It's not because I'm mad at you," Zoe said.

"You're sure?"

Zoe nodded. "Yes.  If there's a chance they're really going to push
for visitation...I can't afford to be out of the loop right now.
Where I am now...I've got some flexibility.  Some freedom.  No
guarantee that'll be true in the next place."

"That makes sense," Trina said.

"And I don't really _want_ to, either," zoe said. "I hate weekends
when jackass is staying there.	But I can put up with it for a while.
So don't get your feelings hurt, okay?"

Trina grinned. "Maybe he'll get hit by a bus. Or a meteor, or
something."

Zoe laughed. "Yeah, right, since when have I ever been so lucky?"

"You can dream," Trina said, shrugging.

Zoe looked at her for a moment. "Not if I'm really lucky," she said
softly.

Trina looked at her sympathetically. "Nightmares?"

Zoe shrugged one shoulder, avoiding her eyes.  "This time of year is
always unpleasant that way."

"If you want to talk about it, I'm a good listener," Trina said
hesitantly.

Zoe sighed and looked at her glass, picking it up and watching the
water from the melted ice swirl through the thicker brown liquid.
"Talking about it wouldn't change anything."

"It might," Trina said. "It can help with the nightmares."

Zoe smiled bitterly. "Yeah. That's what they say."

"It can," Trina said softly.

Zoe looked around the large room,  eyes lingering on the doors, and
tugged her jacket closer, seeming to draw in on herself.  "Maybe.  But
it can also give people things to use against you."

"I would never use it against you," Trina said.

"No... but others might."

"I would never tell anyone else, either," Trina said.

Zoe looked at her, torn. "You'd have to mean that.  _Exactly_ that.
Not 'I'd never tell unless I think it would help'."

"Zoe, I swear to you that I will never tell anyone else, _ever_,
unless you give me your permission," Trina said.

Zoe looked at her for several seconds. "No matter what?  Even if you
think it might... save my life or keep me out of jail or something?"

Trina nodded firmly. "Not unless you give me permission. I know how to
keep a secret."

Zoe's eyes flickered around the room again.  "Why do you even want to
know? It'll just give you nightmares, too.  And I lived through it, so
it's not even important anymore."

"Because I don't want you to have nightmares anymore," Trina said
softly. 

"You'll regret it."

Trina shook her head. "I won't."

Zoe sighed. ""Can't say I didn't warn you," she said sadly.  "Fine.
But not in here.  Um.  Outside somewhere."

Trina nodded. "I know a clearing we can use."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

If you like this, you might want to take a look at Strange Love, an
e-zine of sf/fantasy/paranormal erotica. The first issue is on sale
now for $2 at:

http://strangelove.pele.cx

Take a look!

-- 
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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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