WARNING!: This story contains sexual situations between two women. If this
offends you or you are
under age then read no further. You have been warned!

Bubblegum Crisis and its characters belong to Youmex, Inc. and AnimEigo, Inc.

Thank you Nightraven, for reading and editing this. Thank you Kahm, for not
killing me and listening to
my frantic ramblings.

Follow Me Into Darkness
---------------------------------
By She-Hulk (brobinso@neocomm.net)


	Priss lit another cigarette from the tip of her last one. She ignored the
frown she got from Linna
and drew deeply. Even the taste of the tobacco didn’t do much to block out
the hospital smell. The waiting
room was empty except for them. Nene yawned and stretched out on the sofa. 

	The reflection of her own face stared back at her from the window and the
urge to smash that
face nearly overwhelmed her. She remembered bitching to anyone who would
listen that this job was
probably a setup. That hadn’t stopped her from suiting up and going along. 

	The tip of her cigarette flared brightly in the window. Nurses moved past
the door, but never
entered.

	 The boomer had been good, certainly the toughest they’d ever gone up
against. The AD police
units had been trashed by the time the Sabers had arrived. Nene couldn’t
get much of a reading from the
nine foot boomer standing in a sea of bodies. Some kind of electrical
interference. She was trying to hot
wire something when it had attacked. 

	Ash fell to the floor unnoticed. Linna tossed an out of date magazine
aside and reached for
another. A soft snore came from Nene. 

	 Damn, that thing was fast! It had tossed Linna aside and was reaching for
Nene before Priss
could react. She fired three rails into its chest and it had fallen.
Silia’s voice was a soft chord in her ears
as Priss moved in on the machine. “Priss. Stay away from that thing until
Nene gets us some clearer
readings. Linna, are you all right?” Linna had picked herself up and
answered in the affirmative.

	It had seemed so simple. Immobilize it, then move in and finish it off
with a close range blast. A
standard OP. Why hadn’t she listened? She just had to play hero. The boomer
wasn’t down. Not by any
means. She heard Silia yelling at her to get away from it, but she had
already gotten to close. It had caught
hold of her and lifted her off of the ground even after she blasted it with
the impact cannon. A plasma
blade sliced through its shoulder, severing the arm. The boomer dropped
Priss and turned on  Silia. 

	Silia began a careful retreat, leading the boomer away from Priss. Nene’s
scanners went wild and
she started shouting at Priss. “Oh no! You’re infected! Priss dump the
armor, now! Get out of it!”

	It had been to late. Priss felt herself stand up, but it wasn’t her that
moved. She fought to regain
control of the hard suit. It was powering up all weapons and autolocking on
a new target: Silia. 

	Priss lit another cigarette and cursed herself for her cowardice. The
nighttime lights of the city
called to her and she wished she were out there on her bike, not in here
trapped with herself.

	The hard suit would not respond. She screamed at Silia, but the virus had
taken the audio off
line. She was a mute prisoner in her own weapon. There was only one thing
left to do. There was an
emergency fail-safe built within the suit. An internal voice activated
self-destruct. Priss spoke calmly.
“Begin self -destruct sequence omega 342....” She stopped. Priss had only
to speak one word and the suit,
along with herself, would be destroyed.

	Tears tried to find release, but she forced them away. No rest for the
wicked. No forgiveness for
the sinner.
	
	She had paused. In the moment of truth she had hesitated and probably cost
Silia her life. The
weapons systems opened fire and Silia was engulfed in the fire storm. The
hard suits weapons were the
most lethal and effective that Silia could design. As Priss watched one of
the last people in the world she
gave a damn about go down under the barrage, she screamed. “Hurricane!” 

	Blood welled from her clenched fist, as she drove her nails deeper into
her palm. A clock on the
wall made a small click as the hour changed from one to two. 

	Nene had managed to get past the virus and completely shut down the suit’s
systems. Clever
Nene. She had been to late to stop the weapons, but just in time to keep
Priss from joining Silia. 

	Clever girl.

	Linna had cut the seals on the suit and Priss managed to climb out. The
boomer had escaped.
Nene was with Silia. Her suit was totaled and Nene was calling for an
emergency pick up from Mackie.
“...We’ll clear up here. She’ll need to be flown directly to the clinic.
Have Dr. Ju standing by.” Nene had
managed to remove Silia’s helmet. Priss sank to her knees beside her fallen
leader and met her pain-filled
eyes. “Priss..” Priss leaned closer and Silia spoke softly.

	 Then she had fainted. Silia’s voice echoed through her. No one else had
heard.
	
	The blood had been on Priss’ hands. It still was.

	Linna considered her volatile team mate. “Mackie says the doctors here are
the best. Hand-picked
by Silia.”  No response. “Come on Priss. It was an accident. Stop torturing
yourself. I know-”

	The cigarette landed in a potted plant in the corner as she flicked it
away and turned on her
friend. “Shut up! You don’t know anything!” Fists clenched tightly, Priss
fought to rein in her tears. “You
didn’t cause this. I did! You didn’t mess up!” She closed her eyes. “I did.”

	Nene jerked awake. She frowned sleepily at her friends, “Jeez, can’t you
two give it a rest?”

	Mackie poked his head through the door. “Hey. The doctor says she’s going
to make it!”

	“All right! Nene hugged him and Linna cheered. Mackie smiled at Priss. She
was gone.



	Silia shifted slightly and scratched at the stitches in her side. The
itching was becoming tiresome.
They would be removed tomorrow, but that seemed an eternity away. She
looked at her room with critical
eyes. The last of the flowers were finally dying (thank goodness, the place
had felt like a jungle.) She had
definitely spent too much for that sofa. Silia got up from the bed, lightly
scratching her stitches and began
to pace. A habit she had not had before she had been injured. (But being
mothered to death could do weird
things to a person,) she thought, as she decided to paint her room another
color. 

	That was it! She had stared at this room way to long. She slipped out the
door and snuck into her
office. Mackie wouldn’t be happy, but enough is enough. It was time to take
her life back.

	 It had been two months since the incident and she was rapidly losing
patience with her brother
and the team. Linna had bombarded her with flowers and brought her home
cooked meals. Nene had
stopped by continually to keep her company and help her eat the home cooked
meals. Mackie had taken
“command” as he liked to put it and had dismantled the hard suits for a
refit without clearing it with her
first. She had not seen Priss.

	Everyone was making excuses for her absence, but Silia knew something was
wrong. She seated
herself behind her desk and dialed Priss’ home number. A black screen
appeared and an audio message
answered.

	“Goddammit! I’m Not Fuckin’ Here, Okay? If You Want To Die, Just Keep
Calling! Mackie,
You Sonofabitch! Give Me My God Damn Bike Back Or I’ll Rip Your Lungs
OUT!!” Red digital letters
flashed: Leave Message Now. 

	“Priss, it’s Silia. I’m back at the office. Call me when you get this.”

	Now what was that about? Silia felt the stitches brush against her blouse
and reached for a tiny
pair of scissors from her desk drawer. These things had to go and go now.
She switched on the light in the
bathroom and unbuttoned her shirt.

	Mackie showed up as she came out of the bathroom and tried to scold her
back to bed, but Silia
was back. “Mackie. I love you dearly, but if you don’t stop mothering me
I’ll be forced to hurt you.” She
said this calmly and seriously, but her eyes twinkled. He stopped pushing
and just grinned. She was back
all right. “Call the others. I want a meeting here at eight o’clock this
evening, no excuses this time. I want
to see Priss with my own eyes. Drag her here if you have to.” Mackie paled
at the thought of  getting
within striking distance of Priss. Silia continued, “Why do you have her
bike?”

	Gulping audibly, Mackie searched the room for something to divert her
attention. “Uh, have you
eaten anything, Sis? I could get you a sandwich or-” Her impatient look
stopped him.

	“Why?”

	“We...sort of...stole it.” She waited for him to continue. “She hasn’t
been herself lately. I mean,
uh, not since....She’s been acting crazy! Nene busted her for speeding and
she was smashed! We figured
that it would be safer if she was walking.” Mackie didn’t add that she had
been doing a hundred and
ninety-seven on a dead end road and had showed no signs of stopping.

	Silia was amazed. “Why would she act this way?” 

	“Guilt.” Linna set a vase of white carnations on the desk and faced her
mentor. She ignored
Silia’s wince. “She blames herself for what happened. You know Priss, she
never does anything by halves.
It’s all or nothing with her. Right now she feels that she betrayed you.”

	Silia frowned at them. “Where on earth would she have gotten that idea?
You did tell her about
the virus didn’t you?” They nodded. “Then why...?”

	They had no explanation. But then, they’d been trying to figure out what
was wrong with Priss
for months now. She was out of control and looking for something or someone
to crash into. Linna and
Nene had made the mistake of going to her trailer one night after a
concert. Priss had screamed across the
stage in her usual style, so they thought she might be getting back to
normal. She wasn’t. Priss had
opened the door, taken one look at them, then slammed it shut. She had then
cranked up her stereo so
loud that it had cracked one of her windows. 
	
	“Mackie, that virus didn’t have any biological elements did it?” Mackie
shook his head.

	“We took the virus apart byte by byte, then we ran a complete analysis on
the carrier itself. There
was nothing that could infect a human.”

	Silia realized that the only way to get answers was to go to the source.
“Linna, contact Nene. Tell
her to report here tomorrow after work. We’ll have that meeting then. I’m
going to see Priss.” The
protests were loud and varied and were overruled. Something was happening
with Priss and she was going
to find out what.

	The trailer was dark inside, a blessing considering the mess. Priss rolled
out of bed and landed on
the floor with a dull thud and the sharp tinkle of empty liquor bottles. As
she lay there, she tried to
identify the horrible smell that was making her nauseous and realized that
it was the trailer. An
overflowing ashtray was next to her head and the smell of stale cigarettes
that close was too much. She
staggered to her feet and made it to the bathroom before she threw up last
night’s dinner of bourbon.
When she had recovered sufficiently enough to stand, she kicked aside a
pile of towels from in front of the
shower stall. They were either turning green from mildew or she had thrown
up on them, she wasn’t sure
which. After fumbling with the shower controls she stepped inside and let
the hot water pound over her.

	 Damn. She was sober again. 

	She made a half-hearted effort at washing, then just stood under the
spray. Eventually time
turned against her and the hot water became cold. Priss stayed under
despite the cold and stared at the
black stains in between the tiles. When was the last time she had showered,
anyway? The mess hadn’t
seemed so bad then. It was the shivering that finally drove her out. She
wrapped a quasi-clean towel
around her and left the bathroom. Glass bottles cried out as she kicked
them aside and fought her way into
the kitchen, her feet trying to stick to the floor. Priss braced herself
and opened the refrigerator door. She
flinched and slammed it closed, then raced back to the bathroom to throw up
again.

	A while later she had managed to pull on some clothes and get herself some
breakfast. She
sipped the last of the bourbon as she slapped the play button on her
answering machine. She would have
to go out today and get some more. Wouldn’t want to skip lunch. Priss lit a
cigarette and rested her finger
on the advance button.

	Her agent’s whine was lethal and she sped through that one. She wasn’t
sure why she was
bothering to listen anyway. Nene began to chatter at her absence and she
hit the advance button again.
Mackie. Then Linna. The owner of Hot Legs fired her again and she raised
her glass to him and drained
it. She started to head back into the kitchen to search for something else
when she spoke. 

	“Priss, it’s Silia. I’m back at the office. Call me when you get this.”

	The glass dropped from her hand and rolled across the floor, chinking
merrily when it met it’s
companions. The cigarette continued to burn, forgotten. Priss was frozen in
place. Silia. Oh, God. 

	Somehow, she hadn’t thought Silia would call. She stared blankly at the
refrigerator door, not
seeing the dirt or the motorcycle shaped magnet that Nene had gotten her.
The cigarette came to the end
of its life and she jerked as it burned her fingers. Priss stubbed it out
on the counter absently. Silia had
called.

	Priss began to move, haltingly at first, then faster. Silia wouldn’t be
brushed off as easily as the
others. She pulled on her boots and tossed bottles and clothes and papers
out of her way as she searched
for her jacket. It was wadded up under the kitchen table and she vaguely
recalled sleeping there one night
when the bed had been to far away. 

	She shook it out and pulled it on, scrambling for her trailer keys and a
couple of packs of
cigarettes. Priss shoved a pile of bottles away from the door and opened
it. Silia was standing outside, her
hand raised to knock.

	Silia took in Priss’ wet hair and bedraggled appearance and realized that
she had been about to
run. “You got my message.” Priss backed up automatically as Silia entered.
The smell of stale cigarette
smoke and spilled liquor was overpowering. “I was going to call first
before coming over, but something
stopped me. Somehow, I knew you’d bolt. Why is that, Priss? Why would you
run from you’re friends?”

	Silia closed the door and snapped on the light. The chaos was total. It
was as if a giant had
picked up all of Priss’ possessions, tossed them into a blender and left
the lid off. A trail of empty bottles
wound its way from the bed to the kitchen, into the bathroom and back
again. Dirty clothes were
everywhere and she counted nine, no ten, overflowing ashtrays. Silia turned
to Priss. She looked like hell.
She had lost weight and her faced was bloodless. A strong wind would blow
her over. Silia put a hand on
her shoulder. “Talk to me Priss. What’s wrong?”

	Priss stared down at her hand blankly and fought to control the emotions
that were rapidly
reaching critical mass. It was no good. They would not be controlled. She
knocked Silia’s hand away and
pushed past her. She was out the door and down the street before Silia
could stop her.

	Silia watched her until she was out of sight. Something had gone horribly
wrong. She looked at
her surroundings and began to make plans, reaching for her portable phone.
Priss wouldn’t like it, but
something had to be done. And maybe it would make Priss angry enough to
talk to her. Angry enough to
stop running. Angry enough to remove the look of hopelessness from her face.

	Several hours later, Priss returned. Silia’s car was gone and she breathed
a sigh of relief.
Judgment had been postponed for another day. She shifted the bag she
carried to her other hand and
inserted her key in the lock, opening the door. The smell caught her
attention first, or rather the lack of
smell. She stepped inside and for the second time that day, froze.

	The trailer had been cleaned. The floor was shinning, well as close to
shinning as twelve year old
linoleum could get. She set the bag down on the counter. The kitchen was
clean and everything had been
picked up. Her bottle collection was gone. Priss opened the clean
refrigerator door like she was handling a
bomb. It had been cleaned inside as well and restocked. She closed the
door, leaning her head against the
cool metal. Why? Why had she done this?

	Priss walked slowly through her home. The state of cleanliness was a
direct opposite of her state
of mind. She sank down onto the bed and the smell of clean sheets drifted
up to her. Part of her wanted to
rage at Silia for this intrusion, but then all things considered, what
right did she have to complain? She
felt them coming and let the tears flow.

	Silia didn’t knock this time. She opened the door and came in quietly.
The sound of crying
reached her and then she saw Priss. She had never seen her cry. Not even on
that night long ago, when
she had found Priss. Not even when Sylvie had died. Rage at the world and
curse the establishment, but
never shed a tear was her creed. Her rule. Silia’s plan hadn’t accomplished
what she’d hoped. She had
wanted Priss angry, not broken. But maybe this would work.
	
	Silia sat down on the bed and put her arms around Priss. She jerked up and
tried to pull away,
but Silia wasn’t letting go. “Shhh.” She began to rock her gently. 

	Priss stopped struggling and let her forehead rest against Silia’s neck.
This was her hell,
knowing that this was the last time she would ever be this close. The smell
of her perfume was strong on
her tongue as she cried. Soft hands stroked her hair and back, causing
guilt to stab through Priss. She
brought herself under control with difficulty and slowly pulled away. Silia
waited patiently while she
pulled herself together. The time had come to pay for her sins. Priss drew
in a deep breath and then
confessed, “I’m sorry. It was my fault.” 

	Silia was confused. “What was your fault?”

	“I could have stopped the weapons from firing, but I didn’t.” Priss stared
at her lap unable to
watch Silia’s trust in her end. She wiped fresh tears away and waited for
Silia’s hate. It never came. The
fingers that touched her chin were gentle, as they turned her face to meet
Silia’s steady gaze. 

	“Priss, I have been over all of the data concerning that virus. There was
only one way to stop
those weapons from firing: the self-destruct sequence.” She brushed a
strand of hair behind Priss’ ear and
continued. “I also saw the computer logs from each of the hard suits. You
had started the self-destruct
sequence.”

	“But I froze! In the critical moment I couldn’t do it! I couldn’t-” She
stopped as Silia’s fingers
touched her mouth. She just wouldn’t listen.

	“You couldn’t what? Kill yourself? End your own life?” She laughed and
Priss felt something
soften inside. “You don’t have anything to feel guilty about. Stop
tormenting yourself, Priss. I’m glad that
you hesitated. If you hadn’t then I would have accomplished nothing since I
hired you. You were a bullet
looking for a target. You wanted to kill and be killed. Now you just want
to kill. A remarkable
improvement!”

	She didn’t understand. “I betrayed you. Can you trust me, now? Can you?
Will you ever let me
back you up again? Or will you choose one of the others, one you can rely
on to do her job?”
	
	“I wouldn’t be here if I couldn’t. Priss if you’re to blame for any of
this, then it would only be by
disobeying a direct order. Which, as I  recall, you do so regularly that I
plan for it in advance. If you feel
that you have to atone, then start following my orders!”
	
	Priss didn’t smile. “But what if I-”

	“Freeze again? Then we’ll deal with it, until then let’s not borrow
trouble.” Silia grew serious.
“You are a Knight Saber. But you are also my right hand. Don’t ever try
cutting me out again,
understand?”

	Priss felt tears well, not believing that forgiveness could come this
easily. Silia was smiling at her
once more and she acted without thinking. Her lips met Silia’s and her arms
encircled her waist. The soft
touch of her lips captivated her and she didn’t feel Silia stiffen in
surprise. Silia shifted suddenly and
pushed at Priss’ shoulders.

	Priss jerked away and off of the bed. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...” Her
back was to Silia as she
spoke. “I’m sorry. I’ll quit the Sabers. I have no right to stay. You
should go.”

	Silia considered her next move carefully. Priss was letting her guilt
overrun her. She really
thought that she should be punished, that she had to atone for her sins. An
idea was forming. What Silia
was considering could back fire, but after looking at it from all sides she
realized that it may be the only
way to bring her protégé back from the edge. She stood up and moved behind
Priss. 
	
	An eternity had passed since she had asked her to leave, but Silia had
said nothing. Priss wished
she would hurry up and leave, so she could be alone with her embarrassment.
Why had she done that? She
tasted her on her lips and Priss knew why. Why she had followed Silia away
from her old life. Why she
had stayed with her and the team even after the mess with Sylvie and Anri.
What she didn’t know was
when friendship had changed to love. Probably when Silia had came to see
her after Sylvie’s death. The
touch of  Silia’s hands on her shoulders brought her crashing back to the
present.

	“Priss.” A tug had her turning to face her. The expression on Priss’ face
was such a mix of fear,
hope, guilt and desire that Silia felt a pang of remorse for having
manipulated her into becoming what she
was. She pushed it away and pulled Priss closer. “Kiss me.” Priss just
stared at her, not quite sure she’d
heard right.

	 Silia spoke again, letting her words twist into an irresistible lure, its
hook unseen. “I want you to
kiss me. Will you do this for me?” Put like that, it snapped her into
action. Priss’ arms went around her.
Silia felt the hesitancy in her and began to stroke her back, moving the
hook into position. Priss couldn’t
think. The taste of Silia was making her crazy and all of the questions she
should be asking right now
slipped away at her touch.

	As she deepened the kiss, she felt the light touch of Priss’ tongue to her
own. They explored each
other and Priss felt a languid warmth creep over her. Trailing kisses
across Silia’s face, she ducked her
head and nuzzled her neck, tasting the warm skin below her ear. Silia felt
her breath catch as Priss’ teeth
closed playfully around her earlobe. A part of her worried about what they
were doing. And why. She
exhaled into her ear, “I shouldn’t do this.”

	Silia’s fingers trembled slightly as she slid Priss’ jacket off and let it
fall to the floor. “I don’t
want you to stop.” The hook sank in. Her own suit coat fell to Priss’
questing hands. Priss’ mouth hovered
along the open throat of her blouse and her tongue dipped into the hollow.
“Why are you doing this?”

	She shoved the hook deeper. “Stop questioning my orders, Priss.” Silia
caught her hands and
guided them to her breasts. “Touch me.” Priss willing obeyed. She could no
longer deny Silia anything.
She was caught.

	Priss cupped the warm weight gently, but soon that wasn’t enough. She
struggled to undue the
tiny buttons of Silia’s blouse. The silk finally parted at her urging and
was discarded. Clad only in her
lace bra and skirt, Silia was a dream realized. With unsteady fingers, she
slid the shoulder straps down
and revealed the soft upper curve of her breasts. She began to explore this
new path eagerly. As she
stumbled across a half-healed scar she paused. The angry-looking welt was
one of a dozen such marks
scattered across Silia’s body. Silia felt something wet drop against her
breast and opened her eyes to find
Priss staring at her. She wiped away the tears from Priss’ cheeks and
admonished her, “No more tears,
Priss. If the scars make you uncomfortable then I’ll leave.” 

	 She pulled out of her embrace and bent to retrieve her clothes. She felt
Priss struggle briefly with
herself and then surrender. Priss caught her in her arms and held her
tightly. Silia could feel the great
breaths she was drawing, trying to regain control. Priss knew that if Silia
left her now, then she would
never return. “No....don’t leave me.” Her voice was faint, but Silia heard. 

	“I won’t leave you, Priss. I promise.” She belonged to her now, completely.

	Silia closed her eyes again and let her head fall back as Priss’ lips
moved once again across her
breasts. Sweet tension flooded her and she gasped as Priss bit her softly,
then laved the mark with her
tongue. The catch on her bra was released and it was removed, much to their
mutual delight. Silia took
Priss’ hand and led her back to the bed. “Lie down with me.”

	Priss watched as Silia lay back across the bed and then let herself settle
lightly on top of her. She
caught the dusky tip of one breast between her lips, as her hand began to
stroke the other. A low moan
from Silia rewarded her and she lightly scraped her nipple with her teeth.
She continued to nip and taste,
wringing faint cries and sharp gasps from Silia. 

	Silia tugged at the bottom of Priss’ shirt and she pulled away long enough
for her to remove it.
Priss shuddered at the first touch of Silia’s hands on her breasts. They
traced the outline and shape,
fingers tightening just enough to make Priss sigh in pleasure. As Silia’s
thumbs began to glide over her
nipples, Priss let her hand fall to Silia’s knee. Her short nails drew tiny
circles on the inside, just below
her skirt. Silia shifted restlessly and cupped the back of Priss’ head,
bringing her down into a kiss. The
hand slid higher and Silia felt a hot pulling begin deep inside her. Clever
fingers discovered the top of her
stocking and unfastened the garter. Priss let her hand lay on Silia’s bare
thigh, fingertips just a breath
away from her warmth. Something made her pause at this intimate threshold.
She found Silia’s eyes and
her words were an unsure whisper. “May I?”

	Silia waited a moment, until she saw a flicker of anxiety, then spoke. “Yes.”

	 Priss exhaled shakily and felt her hands tremble. Her fingers moved up
and began to trace the
silk covered heat, as Priss kissed her way down Silia’s body. She
unbuttoned the skirt and spread it away
from her. Priss let her eyes roam over her leader’s form and her hands
followed. Silia sighed deeply as the
rest of her clothes were removed. She watched Priss’ eager expression
through half closed eyes. A stray
twinge of guilt was ruthlessly crushed as Priss returned to her earlier
activities. 

	Priss let her fingers slide into the damp folds and was delighted with
Silia’s quickly in drawn
breath. She watched Silia’s face as she continued to caress her, probing
deeper. Silia moaned as her
fingers slipped inside and began to explore. She saw the pleased look on
Priss’ face turn sly, just before
her eyes closed. Heat surged through her as she felt the touch of Priss’
mouth. Her agile tongue proved to
be her undoing and an explosion of heat and light overtook her. She cried
out and shuddered. Priss slowed
her movements, gradually bringing Silia down from the plateau she had just
reached.

	Priss moved back up Silia’s body and took her into her arms, tucking her
head against her
shoulder. Silia gave herself a few moments to recover and then raised her
head. “Undress.” Priss felt her
heart lurch and begin to race. She sat up slowly and removed her boots,
extremely aware of Silia watching
her. She stood and fumbled at the button of her jeans, cursing softly,
finally managing to undue it. Priss
tossed them aside and turned back to the bed. Silia studied her
thoughtfully. So young, so eager to please.
She held out her hand to Priss and pulled her down beside her.

	Silia pushed her back against the pillows and straddled her waist. Priss
stared up at her, waiting
for her command. Silia leaned down and brushed her lips across hers. So
young. She turned her head and
kissed the soft flesh of her throat, lingering there and playing until
Priss was gasping. Then she carefully
bit her, marking the skin just under her ear. Priss gasped at the sudden
pain and jerked away.
 
	Silia rose slightly and looked at her in question. Priss met her gaze
uncertainly. Silia made no
move, neither to leave nor continue. It would be up to her. Priss closed
her eyes and lifted her chin, baring
her throat to Silia. So eager.

	Priss had lost track of reality at some point, in the time that followed.
Intense pleasure mixed
with flashes of pain was all that she knew, now. Silia was driving her
toward the edge again and the
tension was unbearable. As she reached for release, a sudden pain jerked
her back again and she fell away.
Back into the hazy void between pleasure and pain.

	 Silia ran her tongue over the small mark on the inside of Priss’ thigh
and smiled at her
frustrated groan. “Not yet.” Little bruises marked her trail down Priss’
body. She began to stroke her
upwards once more wondering how long it would take Priss to snap. Silia let
her reach the edge yet again,
then ruthlessly yanked her back. She sucked at the new bite and tasted
blood. “Not yet.”

	Priss tossed restlessly and moaned as Silia began another assault on her
breasts. Something was
stirring to life within her. She was really beginning to hate those two words.

	Silia thrust her fingers deeply into her and Priss cried out. Silia
withdrew them quickly, “Oh no.
Not yet.” She sought out the hidden nub and bit it, gently. Priss reacted
as if she had been shot. She let out
a strangled scream and jerked away, her wild eyes focusing on Silia. Priss
and shoved Silia over onto her
back. 

	Silia met her passionate kiss fully and gripped the back of her head.
Priss caught her hands and
slammed them down on the bed above her head. “Don’t move.” Silia nodded,
but Priss was busy
elsewhere. Silia felt her mouth clamp over her breast and she jumped. The
strong tug of her lips caused
Silia to gasp and Priss raised her head. She met Silia’s startled gaze and
smiled wickedly. “My turn.”

	 Priss was back.



	Nene flopped down on the sofa in Silia’s office and pulled her shoes off
with a sigh of relief.
“Oohh, that feels wonderful!” Linna looked up from the newspaper she was
reading and laughed at her.

	“If the shoes bother you that badly, then why did you buy them?”

	Nene wrinkled her nose at her. “They’re so cute!” Linna snorted. “Besides,
they were on sale!”

	Silia ignored this exchange and continued to study the technical reports
in front of her. Linna
glanced at her watch and turned to Silia. “I guess we can start now. Any
particular reason for this meeting
other than the fitting?” They had been measured for their new suits tonight.

	Silia raised a brow. “Everyone isn’t here, yet. We’ll start then.” Mackie
trotted in and Linna
looked expectantly at Silia. She shook her head.

	“Come on, Silia. You don’t think she’ll show up do you? Priss has made it
pretty plain that she
wants out. What makes you believe she’ll come?”

	“Because I asked her to.”

	That stopped Linna. Nene was instantly curious. “You saw her? Is she all
right? Is she going to
kill us for taking her bike? Come on, Silia! Tell us!”

	“No. I’m not going to kill you.” Everyone turned to see Priss, dressed in
her red leathers, leaning
against the doorjamb. “But if you guys ever pull another stunt like that
again, I won’t be held responsible
for my actions.”

	She pushed herself into the room and dropped into a chair and stretched
mightily. “Let’s get this
thing going. I’ve got a show at nine.” She met the others startled looks
with a calm disinterest. Priss
glanced at Silia and winked. 

	Silia began the meeting, running through the changes that had been made to
the new suits and
why. Mackie passed the small, dime-sized carrier around and explained how
the new upgrades would stop
it. Priss stared at the tiny piece of metal that had attached itself to her
suit and swore silently that Genom
would fall by her hands. 

	Nene cheerfully informed everyone that they’d developed a secondary
fail-safe device in the hard
suits. “When engaged it severs the power supply to the suit and releases
the seals. The pilot can get out
easily and the suit doesn’t go boom.”
	
	Silia wrapped the meeting up and everyone departed. Linna and Nene scolded
Priss briefly then
forced her to endure a group hug before finally leaving. Mackie gathered up
his reports, “Priss, I’ll park
your bike out front?” She nodded. “I’m going to the garage, Sis. I want to
run another check on the viral
scanners again.”

	Silia shook her head at him, “Mackie you’re hopeless. The scanners are
fine. The suits are ready
for any Judas virus that Genom cares to throw at us.” Priss stiffened at
the word. Mackie left and they
were alone.

	“Judas?”

	“Yes. Its an old term for a virus that takes over a system and makes it
work against itself or its
network units.” She replied absently as she cleared her desk. 

	Priss watched Silia and realized her mistake. A lingering cloud of guilt
dissipated and she smiled
suddenly. Silia glanced at her and tilted her head in inquiry. “Nothing.
I’m going to go check the bike out.
I’ll meet you there.” Silia watched Priss leave and knew she had missed
something.

	Priss stopped in the doorway. “Silia.”

	“Yes?”

	She didn’t turn around. “Thanks for not..........leaving.”


	The motorcycle was out front as promised and Priss ran an experienced eye
over it. Mackie had
given it a tune up, as only he can. The chrome almost blinded her from the
washing he had given it. He
must have been feeling really guilty.  She climbed on and couldn’t resist
turning the engine over. The
threatening roar rose from under her and she smiled at the sweet sound. A
movement beside her caught
her attention and she shut the engine down. Priss climbed off and turned to
face Silia. “Sorry, couldn’t
resist. Let’s-” She halted as Silia stepped away from the shadows. 

	“I thought we could take your bike.” Silia was dressed in motorcycle
leathers. Priss stared at the
tall boots and tightly stretched pants, then worked her way up over the
form-fitting jacket. A flash of
desire, strong and sharp pierced her as she watched this angel in black
come towards her. A black helmet
was casually tucked under one arm, completing the outfit. “Is something
wrong?”

	Priss shook her head quickly and swallowed. “N-no. Nothing’s wrong. You
just took me by
surprise. Uh, you look...uh...great.”

	 Silia frowned and looked down at herself. “Maybe I should change?”

	“Oh, no! No, don’t do that! You look hot-I mean fine the way you are.”
Silia’s expression was
serious, but her eyes were bright. She pulled the zipper of her jacket down
half way, revealing a large vee
of skin. “I could take it off.” Priss unglued her tongue from the roof of
her mouth and reached out to tug
the zipper back up. Silia being the boss; she knew, Silia being playful
could still catch her off guard. But
then, she probably always would.

	“That won’t be necessary.” Priss leaned closer and kissed her.  Silia’s
startled reaction pleased
her and Priss took comfort in the fact that she could surprise her as well.
Silia wrapped her free arm
around Priss’ waist and she let herself  returned the caress. Allowing
herself to care for Priss was going to
take time and patience. But the rewards would be worth it. Complete loyalty
and a willingness to die for
her. She knew that Priss wouldn’t hesitate next time, but she felt no
remorse for having led her onto this
path. Silia walked it every day. Now, she wasn’t alone.

	It was a while before they surfaced. “We’d better get going.” Priss
frowned at her suddenly as she
noticed a detail she had overlooked. “When did you get those? They look
like they’ve been broke in.” Silia
met her eyes and answered her truthfully. “Right after you met Sylvie.”
There was a moment of telling
silence, then Silia touched Priss’ cheek. “Come on, you’ll be late.” Priss
nodded and pulled on her helmet.

	She climbed onto the bike and brought it to life. Silia donned her own
helmet and climbed on
behind her. Priss felt Silia’s legs around her and took a deep breath. This
was going to be the longest and
the shortest, trip of her life. 

	They sped away and Linna removed her hand from Nene’s mouth. “Nene, I
think we should
forget we saw that. Don’t you agree?” Nene wasn’t listening.

	“Oooooo, did you see how Priss was looking at her? And Silia! Black
leather?! And that kiss!
Pretty hot, huh?! Do you think they’re...you know...lovers? Who would have
thought? Priss and Silia! The
Bitch and the Boss! Wow! Can you imagin-” Linna’s hand stopped her. 

	“Not another word! It’s none of our business. Now, go get your shoes and
let’s get out of here
before they come back.” She dropped her hand and Nene opened her mouth.
“No! I don’t want to talk
about it!”

	Nene wailed, “But, why not?”


shimai