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From: "Sam Grume" <grumbles@linuxmail.org>
Subject: {ASSM} Tam and Claire 3/5 {uncle grumbles} (Fg, ped, cons, rom, inc, slow, nosex)
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Date: Wed, 17 Dec 2008 09:10:07 -0500
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author: Uncle
Grumbles title: Tam and Claire 3/5 
summary: Tam and Claire have a falling out
keywords: Fg, ped, cons, rom, inc, nosex, slow 
keywords: awakening

==

myfile: tamclaire-ch3-v1e-m72.txt

======

Story code note: I could plausibly attach at least the ws code to
this chapter, but having sampled other stories bearing it, I frankly
think it would be false advertising in this case. However, if you
think pee is the devil's ablution, you'll just have to skip this one.

Story Code note: I could plausibly have put Fdom or bd on this chapter,
but having sampled other works with those codes, I frankly think that
would amount to false advertising in this case. However, if this sort
of thing bothers you, fair warning: Not everything that happens here
is politely negotiated between two equals in age or experience. At
no time, however, does either character intend to humiliate the other
for sexual gratification.

If you think I've handled this badly, by all means let me know.

Feedback, positive or negative, is very welcome, and will help me do 
better next time, if the lightning strikes again, and there is a next 
time.

A kind word in email is as good as gold here, and a lot cheaper. 

  grumbles at linux mail spot org

OK? OK.

Ready and set and Here. We. Go:

======

Tam and Claire, Chapter 3: Adventures in Gardening

======

[recap: Tam is staying with her Uncle Carl and Aunt Claire over summer
vacation. She's developed something of a crush on her Auntie. She's
also turned out to be simpatico with her infant cousin, Erica. Uncle
Carl, away on business, stopped by to deliver the news, with an
engineer's characteristic bluntness, that Tam's Mom has assaulted a cop
who, quite properly, was trying to arrest her. Carl has gone again,
but is sorely chagrined at the devastating effect his news has had
on his niece; and is desperately missed by Claire.]

The next three days were grim.

Tam rarely came out of her room. Claire stopped by the door a few
times, once hearing crying, once hearing some stomping and general
thrashing about. Several times, she tried knocking on the door, asking
if Tam needed anything, but Tam responded with "I'm fine!" "No!" "Leave
me alone" and finally with the sound of something like a shoe hitting
the door, hard. She felt helpless, but...Fine. She hadn't heard
anything actually smash or break, and as long as Tam wasn't doing
anything...permanent, let her stew.

Occasionally, Tam would come out for food, leaving horrible messes
in the kitchen, including food on the floor, but that was it. She
didn't even try to take care of Erica. Claire was heartsick for both
of them, as Erica seemed to miss her new friend and nanny, but Claire
knew Tam couldn't do a lick of good for Erica in her present state.

The fourth day was Hot Shit Day: the arrival of two yards of steaming
fresh cow manure for Claire's garden, from a friend's dairy farm on
the other side of town. (A portrait of "Milk Maid Peg", wearing the
traditional bonnet and dress and sitting on a stool at the back end of
a bovine, was painted on the door of the truck. If you looked closely,
you might notice that she was not milking a cow, exactly. The dairy
was a raw milk co-op, and barely broke even, including some rather
furtive sales to boutique cheese makers, but Peggy was amassing a
tidy little fortune from her championship stud fees. Claire had come
up with the logo, and this load was partial payment.) The truck could
not get to the compost bins, so it had to dump its load at the end of
the side drive. Claire stood and chatted with Peggy for a few minutes,
then she went to change into work clothes.

In the hallway, she met a glowering, Tam-shaped thundercloud, which
bumped into her as it went past, and muttered, "Stupid bitch." It
reeked of stale sweat and worse. It had apparently not changed clothes
or bathed or possibly even wiped for three days.

Enough.

"Tam." The thundercloud put its hand on its doorknob...

"Tam, stop. I need your help out in the garden."

...It opened its door....

"I don't gotta."

"Oh, yes, you do gotta, young lady. If you're going to stink, it might
as well be from honest work. You owe me for three days of kitchen
duty anyway. Now get your shoes on, and meet me at the mud room."

Tam whirled, and actually stepped towards Claire, fist raised.

"Shut your fucking hole, you stupid shit-sucking whore! You are not
my fucking mother! You do not tell me to do fucking shit! Shut the
fuck up and leave me the fuck alone!"

In the blink of an eye, Claire pushed the reeking little demon against
the wall, fisted arm up her back.

"Yes, Tam, yes I can tell you what to do because you are living in my
house and eating my food, hear me? Now listen to me --" Tam opened
her mouth and took a deep breathe, ready to denounce Claire to the
very devil. The arm went up another fraction, and there was a squeak
of pain. "Listen to me, I said, and do not speak until I tell you to
do so. Nod if you can hear me." A long pause, another push on the arm,
a tight little nod.

"Now, Tam, I took a workshop in humanely subduing combative students
for my teacher's certificate, and am now state certified to teach that
workshop, but I prefer to fight dirty. Carl's put me through some
self-defense drills since I'm here alone so much, and there's a man
who will live out his life in a prison infirmary because he caught
me off guard in a shopping mall parking lot and thought it would be
fun to ra...rob me. You will lose, Tam, you will lose big time if you
do not do exactly what I tell you to do, or if you ever speak to me
that way again. Nod if you can hear me." Another pause, another nod,
not so sharp this time. Claire allowed the arm to come down aways.

"Good. Now, go put on a shirt with sleeves, and your shoes. Then go
to the mud room, and smear yourself with sunscreen. There's also some
zinc oxide cream for your nose and ears. It's all on a shelf next to
the door. If you burn yourself to blisters, it will be only what you
deserve, and you will get none zero zip nada sympathy. When you're
done, wait. Nod if you can hear me."

An angry head-toss. Claire let go and stepped back in one smooth
motion, as if releasing a wildcat. Tam didn't so much as glance at her,
just slammed into her room.

Claire was furious with herself for letting that rage build and feed on
itself, unopposed, for three days. How had she let that happen? She
wished Carl had been here; he wouldn't have tolerated it. Well,
at least it was out in the open now.

She went to her bedroom, changed, put her hair into a ponytail, bundled
Erica into the papoose and grabbed the baby bag. She heard Tam slam her
door and stomp down the hall, gave her another five minutes, then went
down to the mud room. Tam was there, glaring out the window at the pile
like to burn it to the ground. Claire rummaged through the bin until
she found a child's boonie hat in camo, and a pair of child's canvas
work gloves. She took Tam by the shoulders and swung her around for
inspection. Tam kept her eyes down, scowling. With her skin, Tam was a
veteran in the battle against sunburn and had not skimped on warpaint.

"Good. Now, Tam, put on this hat and these gloves, go down to the
tool shed, and bring up the small red wheelbarrow, and two shovels,
the flat, squared-off ones about this...Look at me, Tam! Look at
me! About this wide." She held her hands palms out, thumbs pointing
at each other, forefingers pointing up about nine inches apart,
the others curled down. She did not want the snow shovels or the big
scoops. "Nod if you can hear me. Good. Go."

Slam. Stomp, stomp, stomp....

Oh, girl, you're going to wear yourself out in ten minutes, that
way. Too bad. There's at least two hours' work ahead of us. You've
crossed the line, Tam, I don't care how badly it hurts.

She applied her own warpaint, put on her broad-brimmed sun hat,
reached into the little mudroom fridge and pulled out four bottles
of water. She picked up Erica, stepped out to the screened-in porch,
put Erica in the playpen there, and walked out to the pile.

Tam came rattling back.

"Good. You know where the compost bins are, yes?" Nod. "Our job is
to move this pile of shit into bin two." The bins were numbered for
record keeping and the convenience of hired hands. "Here's a bottle
of water. Drink it down."

While Claire drank her bottle, Tam sucked hers dry as if it were
Claire's blood, actually collapsing the bottle, in less than thirty
seconds. Claire passed over a second bottle.

"Again, at least half." Claire sipped hers, while Tam gulped,
although more slowly this time. They both stared at the malignantly
waiting pile.

"Good. Now, let's shovel us some shit."

They worked on opposite sides of the barrow. Claire corrected Tam's
stance, showed her how to lift with her knees, not her back, and had
her take shovel fulls from the top of the pile, so as not to have to
lift so much. Quickly enough, the barrow was full, and Claire sent
Tam off to dump. They filled a second barrow.

On the third barrow, Claire pitched one last shovel full, but saw
too late that Tam was moving to grab the handles, and for some reason
had turned back towards her. Tam took the load right in the belly.

"Oh, gods, Tam, I'm sorry, so sorry, here, let me...."

Tam reached into the barrow, and picked up a dripping handful of cow
shit, murder, honest open murder in her eyes.

"Tam, I'm said I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. Don't, Tam. Don't
you dare...."

And the fight was on. For a good ten minutes, they chased each
other around the pile, screaming at first, then yelling, then just
laughing. Tam's laughter threatened to mutate into sobs and spiral
out of control for a moment, but she throttled it back. Hope sprouted
in Claire's heart.

Tam dropped her last handful, walked up to Claire, and gave her a huge,
messy hug.

"Truce?"

Hope bloomed. Claire hugged Tam back, and almost kissed the filthy
little truant, but thought better of it. Fashion tip: shitty makeup
is a real romance killer....

"Truce."

They stepped back and did a damage check. Total loss on both sides. It
was in their hair and on their faces. The pile showed strong evidence
of having been rolled in. At some point, they'd been stuffing handfuls
down each other's shirts and pants. They squelched when they walked.

Claire put her arm around Tam and walked her back to the porch.

"OK, strip; we need to shower."

"What?"

"Take your clothes off, Tam, so we can take a shower. You know, that
water spraying deelie-bopper by the porch? What, you want to track
cow shit through the house to get to your shower? I don't think so."

"Oh. What'll I do with my clothes?"

"Leave 'em right here. We'll bury 'em later."

"Uh..."

"Strip, that's an order." Claire popped her shirt open, not even
bothering with buttons--not like she'd ever wear it again. Tam stared,
then followed suit more carefully.

A telephone-style shower head was mounted over a concrete slab off the
end of the porch, open to the world. There were dispensers for soap,
shampoo, and conditioner on the wall. A small cabinet held wash cloths,
towels, and a few other odds and ends. Claire turned on the water,
waited until it ran hot, and pulled a suddenly very shy Tam under
the spray with her.

She tipped her head back and rinsed the worst of the mess off her
face and the top of her head and worked her way down her body. Then
she had Tam lean back and did the same to her. The attention only
intensified the Shy Tam effect; and despite her affection for Shy Tam,
Claire took pity and and tried to make things easier by putting Tam
in control and by making it so Tam could hide from her, a little.

"Wash my hair, and then I'll do yours. Got it?"

"...OK?"

Claire sat down on a small stool that lived by the shower. Tam was
diffident at first, but then moved into baby-bathing mode, washing
Claire's hair clean in four passes, even scrubbing her back without
prompting. When she was finished, Claire directed her to squirt out
a handful of conditioner, and rub it into her hair, from roots to
tips. "If I don't use this, my hair tangles and I can't comb it out
without about an hour's work."

Tam worked it in. Claire piled her hair up on top of her head, fixing
it in place with a couple of plastic clips.

Claire stood up, and Tam stood in front of her. She took one pass of
the shampoo, then:

"I need to pee."

"Well, pee."

"But we're, uh, in the...."

"We're in the shower. We have cow poop washing down the drain. What's
a little nice, clean pee going to hurt?"

"I've never, uh, I have to sit down. Don't I?"

"Tam. You've never peed standing up?"

"No, I uh..."

"Boys get to do it all the time. The shower is one of the few places
where we girls have the privilege. If you need to pee, pee."

"I don't think...."

"What, you want a demo? Watch."

Claire spraddled her legs, spread her pee-place a bit with her fingers,
and let loose. Tam was fascinated.

She put her hand out and let the stream wash over it.

"There, I'm done. Your turn."

"I uh are um gonna?"

"You watched me, I watch you, see how that works? Spread your legs
a little bit. Fingers on either side. No, further down, and spread,
don't squeeze. Like this." Demonstrating again on herself. "Now pee."

Tam looked down at her pee-place. So did Claire, really looking for
the first time. It was a beautiful, perfect little cleft under a
budding mons sporting a light, blonde thatch.

After a few moments, a pale stream arced smoothly out. It stalled
briefly, than started again. Again, Tam put her hand in it, felt it
run over her fingers. When she was done, she brought her fingers to
her mouth and tasted.

"Well, what do you think?"

"It's...it tastes like pee, I guess. Maybe a little stronger than
baby pee."

"No, silly, I mean, how do you like peeing standing up?"

"I didn't know you could do that."

"You can pee standing up, Tam. Please feel free to do so at anytime,
only not on the carpet, OK?" Tam giggled. "Oh, and it's still a really
good idea to be sitting down when you poop. Even boys do that. Got it?"

"Uh, I probably shouldn't put my hands in the poop, either,
huh?" Claire laughed.

"Indeed not, and anyway, I don't know about you, but I've already
put my hands in enough poop to keep me happy for at least the rest
of the day, yes? OK, then. Now let me finish your hair."

Claire washed the girl's hair three times, and scrubbed her back. She
anointed the shaggy little head with conditioner. They each soaped
the rest of their bodies with washcloths, rinsed, and did it again
twice more.

More than once, Claire caught Tam looking at her black, curly, neatly
trimmed thatch. Then she saw Tam looking at her own, touching the
little yellow fluff.

"Ah, good point." Tam twitched guiltily, took her hand away. "No, no,
wash those squishy parts real good. Just like a baby with a really
poopy diaper." Claire soaped her cloth generously, then roughly
scrubbed herself. Tam watched, then followed suit. They used the
telephone-style shower head to wash away the soap. Spraying the
hot water directly over her pee-place and bottom felt really weird,
but not bad, Tam decided. As Claire had done, she used her hands to
thoroughly rub away the soap.

"OK, now we need to rinse out the conditioner." Claire pulled the hair
clips, and Tam gaped as the black mass tumbled down her back. They
did turn about, again, with the final rinse.

They dried off. Claire collected Erica.

"Come to my room, OK?"

Claire padded through the house. Tam followed. She was shy at first,
actually peeking out of the mud room door and checking both ways
before moving towards the main hall. Within a few steps, though,
she was almost strutting. Walking around the house naked! But she
quickly got lost in watching Claire's bottom roll at each step with a
fascination she could not explain. It made her think of...what it felt
like to pee. No, not exactly. There was something else, like that,
but not quite.

They stepped into Claire's bedroom.

It smelled of Claire, but Uncle Carl was also in the room. There
were two closets. Each sliding closet door had a full length mirror
on it. One closet held ranks of white or mutely colored shirts, and
dark suits. The other was an explosion of bright color. There seemed
to be a lot more shoes in the colorful one....

"Check Erica for me, OK?" Tam put Erica up on the changing table, and
swapped out the wet diaper while Claire flicked through her closet,
then put Erica back in the bassinet. "Ah, this'll do. Put this on if
you want."

A cloud of colorful, fragrant slippery softness floated through the air
and landed on Tam's head. It was a short-sleeved shirt printed with
oddly-drawn, but blazingly beautiful, flowers. "This is a Japanese
robe called a hapi coat; it's made out of silk. Your Uncle Carl
brought it back from Kyoto. Carl likes it on me because it barely
covers my bottom, but I think it'll be fine on you, if maybe a little
too full." Tam found it had no buttons, so she left it open; anyway,
she was still warm and flushed from the hot shower. The feel of the
silk across her skin was...it was like... it was, she thought suddenly,
like Claire kissing her all over her body, very lightly, all at once.

Suddenly, the thought, "Carl likes it on me" rang in her mind. She
was...mad at Carl for getting to see this on Claire whenever he
wanted. Then, just as suddenly, she forgot about it.

Claire slipped on a robe of her own, a deep, solid gray, also in
silk. Tam was disappointed when she belted it shut.

Carl's dresser, next to his closet, was...Carl-like, solid, functional,
authoritative. It looked like the dresser other dressers came to when
they had problems. Claire's, however was a desk-ish sort of thing
with drawers on either side of a lowered work surface. A mirror
built into it had little lights all around it. Like its mistress,
it was smooth and nicely curved, but spare and elegant, and when
Claire sat down in front of it looked happy to have her there, more
complete somehow. It was covered with bottles of numerous shapes,
sizes, and colors, as well as some strange tools.

Claire picked up a vaguely threatening device with an electric cord,
and flicked its switch. It made a kind of little roaring noise, and
when Claire pointed it at her hair, Tam realized it was a blower of
some kind. Claire picked up a brush, and began to run it, slowly and
carefully, through her black, shiny tresses.

Tam wished the brush were in her hand.

She got up and stood behind Claire, and held her hand out in front
of the blower. It was warm! "It's a dryer for your hair! Neat!"

"It's a hair dryer, yes. My hair takes about two hours to dry without
it. This way it'll get dry enough in about fifteen minutes."

Claire was beginning to fill with excitement as she realized what was
happening. She had to tell Carl. She wondered if Tam would ever...no,
didn't bear thinking about. One step at a time, and there were clearly
so many, many steps for Tam to take.

Erica began to fuss. Absently, Tam went over and picked her up,
carried her back to the bed, and sat down, holding Erica on her lap,
jostling and jollying the baby girl until she quieted. Together,
equally fascinated, they watched a very brief sketch of the Claire
Gets Dressed Show.

Claire stood up and let the robe drop from her shoulders. Tam
watched her nipples sway; it made her feel funny, but she liked
it. A lot. Claire reached into a drawer, and pulled out a pair of
panties. She stepped into them, carefully drew them up her legs,
and settled them into place. There was something about the way Claire
moved her hands over her skin.... The panties were plain white, but so
thin, Tam could see her hair through them. They were also...smaller
on Claire than Tam's panties were on her, showing more of her hips;
what there was of it fit very snugly.

With a bit of dramatic flourish, Claire pulled out...a bra! It, too,
was a simple white affair, except it had the little trap doors Tam
had seen her use for nursing.

Tam laughed when Claire put the cups on her back, thinking it a joke
-- and was then humbled when she hooked the ends of the main strap
together in front, swung the bra around, scooped her breasts into the
cups, and flipped the little straps up over her shoulders. So that's
how it was done! Cool! Pretty obvious when you knew, actually. She
couldn't wait to try it herself. Beat the heck out of tape, that was
for sure.

Claire pulled on a pair of sweat pants, then put on a light gray
flannel shirt. She shoved her feet into a pair of house slippers,
and finally did a quick turn in front of the closet mirror, so her
hair spun out.

"There. Your turn. Come here and let me brush your hair." Tam put
Erica down, and walked over to Claire's desk. Claire maneuvered her
between her knees. Claire began to work the brush through the tangle
covering Tam's head. She applied the blower...the hairdryer here,
there, all around, the brush twisting, bending, pulling. Sometimes
Claire picked up a complicated rod with a cord on the handle and
a long clamp on one side, and poked and tugged at Tam's hair with
it. Sometimes she worked a spray bottle, which utterly mystified
Tam. Wasn't the whole point to dry her hair?

Tam reveled in the feel of Claire's hands on her head, running through
her hair, even though she sometimes pulled at Tam's scalp a little
uncomfortably.

Several times, Claire picked up a pair of long, narrow scissors and
snipped, dropping tight tangles of hair on the desk top.

"There." Claire moved out from between Tam and the mirror. Tam's hair
was short, only to her jawline, but somehow.... Tam couldn't believe
it. Her usual rough shag was transformed into loose, soft waves that
surrounded her face like a fancy frame around a picture. Somehow,
the girl in the mirror was pretty. Tam couldn't remember ever being
pretty before.

Claire looked over Tam's head into the mirror, admiring her handiwork,
quick and dirty as it had been. She ran her fingers through Tam's hair
a few more times, simply because it gave her an excuse to touch Tam.

"Very nice," said Claire. "I knew there was a girl in there
somewhere. Now let's get you dressed, and get dinner."

Tam turned away from the mirror and waited at the door while Claire
picked up Erica.

Claire held her hand out to Tam, who took it happily as they walked
out and into the hall to Tam's room.

Tam reached out and opened the door on disaster.

The bed was stripped, the sheets ripped to tatters, the blankets
twisted and knotted, and the mattress and box spring had been
pushed half off the frame. There was a sock hanging from a slanting
curtain rod -- the curtains themselves were on the floor. The dresser
drawers were all pulled out and the contents, mostly old clothes,
lay scattered around the room. There was nothing in the closets;
the hangers were flung all about as well. The boxes of sweaters,
toys, pictures, and whatnot that had been stored there were dumped
out and the boxes themselves torn to pieces.

There were plates and cups and glasses and silverware laying on every
flat surface, from bed to floor. The bathroom issued the stink of a
toilet unflushed for at least a day.

Tam burned with shame. The contrast with Claire's friendly working
clutter was hideous. She turned to flee, but Claire's fingers held
her own in an unbreakable grip.

"Look at it, Tam. You must see this." She pulled Tam in front of her,
put her hands on Tam's shoulders, and held her close, forcing her to
look into chaos.

"I...I..."

"This is what your rage looks like, Tam. There's nothing wrong with
anger, and yours had better cause than some, but you sat in here and
let it eat you, Tam, you let it feed on you and grow and turn into
uncontrolled rage. You forgot there was anything else. You were hurt,
Tam, horribly hurt, and for a while there, I worried you'd die of
it. Somehow you managed to get through it, which means you are also
very, very strong. It may be that this room is part of what helped
you get through it. Throwing bullshit at me was definitely part of
it; if I didn't know you and love you and understand where that came
from you would right now be tied to a tree getting a very serious
whipping." Tam was perfectly still. No question she understood the
depth of her transgressions. No question she understood what waited for
her if she ever did anything like that ever again, for any reason. No
question, absolutely no question, she heartily repented what she had
done and said, and not because of the threatened retribution.

"And Tam, my sweet, my precious darling, my love, my life, my
little poo flinging pest? I would rather the house had burned down
than to lose you. This room and the things in it are nothing, Tam,
nothing compared to you. You didn't know how to do anything else,
and I've seen much worse for far less. I didn't know how to help,
didn't even try, really, and I'm sorrier for that than anything I've
ever been sorry for in my life."

"Cl...Aunt Claire, I'm so sorry. I'll...I'll..."

"You'll come to the kitchen with me so we can fix dinner and
talk. Tomorrow we'll come in and clean up. I don't see anything
important broken, so we can put it all to rights."

Claire knelt, turned Tam to face her, and hugged the silky little body
very very close. She kissed Tam on the forehead, once, twice, three
times. Finally, Tam put her arms around Claire, and hugged her back.

Claire patted Tam's bottom, released her, and stood up.

"I don't think there's anything in here that you should wear without
washing it first. Pick up whatever clothes you can find, and we'll
run a load of laundry for you, OK? I'm going back to my room to get
a sash for the happi."

Tam went about the room, putting together a pitifully small pile of
laundry. Claire came back and tied a scarlet length of silk around
her waist, then sent her off to the washing machine.

Tam came into the kitchen to find Claire seated, shirt open, bra open,
feeding Erica. She had Tam put a couple of servings of soup in the
microwave, and shred up a salad. Claire finished with Erica just as
Tam was setting out sandwich makings and paper plates. She asked for
lemonade, and Tam poured two glasses.

They finished eating and cleared the table. They moved to the sun
room and sat together on the floor, ensconced in pillows. They talked
for a long time, about everything and nothing. There were several
elephants in the room, which were studiously ignored, because at
this moment, they simply weren't as important as Tam and Claire
healing the breech. Tam played with Erica while they talked, and at
one point, pulled up her shirt and let Erica use her as a paci. She
watched the little mouth work, covering almost half her breast. It
was a delicious feeling, calming and comforting, without the electric
thrill of Claire's mouth. She looked up and saw Claire watching the
baby, and, Tam, realized, her exposed breast. Claire's gaze was like
a soft caress of its own.

Later, while Tam worked another diaper change, Claire got up and went
into the kitchen. She came back with a odd, squat, clear glass bottle
with a long neck and a glass stopper, and two almost spherical glasses
set on long thin pedestals with flat disks as bases. She spilled a tiny
bit of dark fluid into one, handed it to Tam, and told her to taste.

"The glass is big so you can sniff as you drink. That's why it's
called a snifter."

It was like nothing Tam had ever had, kind of sweet, with fruit and
spice flavors, but also with a strong, sharp bite. There was barely
enough in the glass to swallow; it simply evaporated on her tongue.

"You like?" Tam nodded, and Claire spilled out a good mouthful for
her, and then the same in her own glass. Tam raised it to her lips,
but Claire reached out and stopped her.

"This is cognac. Carl says it tastes like cough medicine, but I love
it and think the stuff he drinks tastes like gasoline. Now, Tam,
this is a very grown-up drink. It can make you terribly sick if you
are not careful, even kill you. You must never drink it by yourself,
never very much at a time, and not very often. Ask me, and we'll
share a glass, like this. Do you understand?"

Tam nodded.

"Say the rules back to me."

It took a few tries, but eventually Tam came out with, "Not by myself,
not very much, not very often. Ask first."

"Well done. Now, sometimes when people have a drink on special
occasions, they say what it is they want remembered, or forgotten,
or celebrated, or mourned; that's called 'making a toast'. Then
they drain their glasses together, in one gulp. I have a toast I
want to make, OK?" Tam nodded. Claire raised her glass to eye level,
arm outstretched. Tam raised hers, too.

"Here's to the ones we love the most, who hurt us most while loving
us most, yet we must love them still. To the ones we must love
still! Salud! (Say 'Salud!')"

"Salute!"

"Close enough. Now drink. One big gulp."

Tam matched Claire's motion, drained her glass, and swallowed.

What had been a warm glow as a little taste on her tongue exploded in
her mouth and down her throat. She almost choked, but her pride was
at stake and she clamped down hard. The fire lessened in intensity
as it spread through her belly, and the taste in her mouth grew and
changed and faded like a particularly complex firework.

"Whoof!" She blew air out through loosely pursed lips.

Claire watched all this and nodded her approval, then waved the bottle
at Tam. "More?"

Tam nodded, and Claire poured another two or three mouthfuls into
her glass, and put about twice that much in her own.

"Sip this one. Tiny sips, Tam. Come here."

Claire opened her legs. Tam scooted in between them, and leaned back
against Claire, laying her head between Claire's breasts. Claire
ruffled Tam's hair, then put her arm around Tam's tummy. Tam put her
free hand on Claire's.

They sat in silence, sipping their cognac. Tam thought about Claire's
toast, not quite understanding it. She saw that it had something to do
with her Mom, and Uncle Carl, and herself that wasn't exactly nice,
but was...real. The truth. It stung on its way down, like the cognac
had, but like the cognac it expanded and glowed the longer she tasted
it, and it was somehow comforting.

Presently, Tam found herself becoming sleepy. She finished her glass,
and put it down.

"Ready for bed?"

Tam nodded, and started to get up. She staggered and sat back down.

"Whoa, easy there, old paint. Strong drink can make you a bit
dizzy. Just sit there for a minute and get your bearings, OK?"

Tam leaned back against the couch. Claire stood up, collected her
sleeping infant off the carpet, and stood. She held out her hand,
and helped Tam up.

"Tam? Would you like to sleep with me tonight?"

Tam discovered she'd misplaced her tongue. She nodded.

"Good, because I'd like to sleep with you." She put her hand on Tam's
shoulder, pulling her to her hip, and they walked to Claire's room.

"If you think you can do it by yourself now, go pee while I put Erica
up." Tam giggled and went off.

Claire did one last diaper change, and put her drowsy daughter in
the bassinet. She stood staring down for a minute, stroking the fine,
black hair beginning to grow out.

Tam came out and crawled into bed. Claire did her own bedtime toilet,
undressed, and turned to find Tam watching her with sleepy worship. She
noted with approval that the happi coat was on a hanger on the small
clothes rack next to the vanity.

"Claire?"

"Yes, dear heart?"

"Claire, can...may I have some milk, please?"

"Oh, Sugar Lips, I'd be delighted."

Claire lifted the covers, and climbed in. She lay on her back, head
propped on a pillow, and Tam draped her warm, naked body across
Claire's belly. She put her hand up and felt Claire's breast for a
moment, cupping it with her whole hand, fondling the nipple with her
fingers. She kissed the breast a few times, settling on the nipple. She
began to suckle, very gently, taking almost nothing. After only a
few minutes, Tam's mouth slowed and stopped.

Her breathing deepened. Claire reluctantly disengaged herself, and
got out of bed. She picked her cell up from the dresser, and saw that
Carl had indeed tried to call, around about the time they were eating
dinner. She'd silenced the ringer, deeming that Tam needed her more
than anyone else. She looked back at Tam lying with her face burrowed
into Claire's pillow.

She walked out to the sun room, and called Carl back.

He had news. The psychiatrist, Dr. Franklin, (not "shrink," Claire
noticed -- this was high praise, and meant that Carl regarded the man
as something like an equal) was working to get Lynn adjudicated insane,
and have her placed in a private institution. It didn't sound like
it would be hard; the jail had proved unable to handle her, and she
was already in a state hospital for observation. Something was very,
very wrong; she had become almost completely feral, and could barely
speak. She was heavily sedated.

"How's Tam? Should she see someone?"

"I don't know, Carl, I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"What is it, Claire? What's wrong?"

"She's better now, and I think on the mend for real, but it's been
tough since you left. And...something strange. Something wonderful."

Claire explained about Tam's little breakdown, and the events of the
day. She talked about breast feeding, peeing standing up, the hair
dryer, and a few other bits and pieces. She did not hide the growing
sexual charge between Tam and herself.

"You realize what this means, right?"

Carl was silent for a minute, taking it in.

"It means that my crazy bitch whore of a sister has raised the most
innocent person ever born, a girl who barely understands that she is
a girl. And the gods have delivered her into your hands to help her
learn who and what she is. And she's crushing on you, hard, and it's
mutual; God knows I understand why."

"It's all going so fast, Carl. She's going through nursing and potty
training, and I've already had one taste of rebellious teen. I can't
wait for what happens next, but it scares me a bit, too."

"It scares me, Claire, just hearing about it, but I...Claire, there's
nobody in the world I can trust Tam to more than you. Do what you think
is right, my love, whatever that is. And have fun doing it, right?"

"Hah. Right. Listen, I have to go. I left the two of them in our room,
and I need to get back in case either of them wakes up. I think the
worst is over, but...I don't want to leave her alone."

"I do, Claire. I know if anyone can get her through this, it's you. As
bad as it was, it would have been much, much worse without you."

"Carl, have I ever mentioned I love you, just a little bit? Hurry
back. I can't wait to feel your hand."

"They've made a total crock of things up here. I'll be able to come
down for a day or two, um, weekend after next, maybe, but then I need
to go right back up for at least another week. Dallas is pressing for
me, too, and offering lots. Cairo and Berlin will have to get somebody
else; I'm not leaving the country until this is settled. I'll keep
you posted. And my hand can't wait to feel you."

"Ooh, baby, tell me what you're wearing right now...Oops, no, I forgot,
I need to go. Bye bye, lover boy. Sleep tight."

"Hey, lady, if you don't want to hear about my Strawberry Shortcake
boxers, I don't want to see any charges on my credit card. Hugs and
kisses and everything else, Claire. Bye bye."

Claire walked back to her room. Tam was curled up at the foot of the
bed, not even wearing panties. Claire climbed in, shifted Tam back
up with her, and snuggled down with her arms around Tam. Tam squirmed
drowsily, nestling herself into Claire. She settled.

"Auntie? Claire?"

"Tam?"

"I love you, Claire. I love you lots."

"Oh, Tam, my Tam, every minute of every day, every thing you do,
even the things that make me mad, tell me you love me. I can see that
because I love you so much, but it still makes me very happy to hear
you say it out loud. Now go to sleep. We have a busy day tomorrow,
my sweet baby girl, my love, my life, and I'll need you rested. Go
to sleep, darling. Go to sleep."

"Kay."

Tam picked up Claire's hand, settled it over her breast, and patted
it. Then she was gone. Claire lay awake for awhile, but then she
too drifted off into the deepest sleep she'd had since Tam had come
to stay.

===

Far away, Carl sat in his hotel room and tried to work, but thoughts
of his sister and his three darling girls filled his mind. Finally,
he poured out a glass of Talisker, and sat in a balcony chair looking
out over the city lights while he slowly sipped it down.

Eventually, he too went to bed, and the dreams he dreamed are none
of your damn business. Not yet, anyway.

======= 
Disclaimer: Of course this is a work of fiction, and I made
all these people up.

SFnal elements: Neither Child Protective Services nor STDs exist in
Tam's world. This, and a few other dramatic anomalies, will not be
explained, because damn it, we're here for the fantasy sex.

CPS, STDs, etc., definitely do exist in our world; you are warned.

=
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