All Wet
By Misty Flores
Email: mistiec_flores@yahoo.com

Fandom: Pre-RENT (movie)
Pairing/characters: Joanne/Maureen, Joanne/Other
Rating: Hard R
Summary: Joanne Jefferson's defined, in control life is turned upside down when she comes across one Maureen Johnson.

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CHAPTER TWELVE

It was a sudden chill and a rough shake at her shoulder that startled Joanne from her sleep. Sunlight, brighter than she was ready for, seared into her retinas, and she groaned, flopping her head back onto her pillow and curling one side over her ear, a meager attempt to drive it away.

But her attacker was relentless, and the pillow was pulled out of her sleepy grasp, force shoving her back onto the bed, head ringing as a result. Eyes squinting open, Joanne found her breath pushed out of her when a large mass settled over her hips. Thighs clamping against her waist, Maureen sat astride her, like she was riding a horse.

Still decidedly grumpy from being forced awake, Joanne ignored the pleasant feel of the other woman's warmth. With a defiant glare, Joanne tossed her arm over her eyes, emitting a grumbly 'humph'.

"Come on," Maureen said, latching onto her arm and trying to pull it off of her face. "I thought you were one of those weird morning persons."

"I'm not," Joanne answered from gritted teeth. "I'm never a morning person. That's why I drink tanks of coffee. I have discipline. There's a difference."

"Baaaabieee""

Joanne sighed, eyes still closed. "No."

"But I'm bored. Come on." An open palm settled on her naked breast, massaging lightly, and Joanne bit her lip, determined to lie still. "You can't coop me up in here by myself when you don't even have cable. We have to go out."

"Uhuh," she responded, voice flat, even as her hands betrayed her and smoothed up the bare thighs. Creaking her eyes open, she took in her rumpled dress shirt Maureen had put on, one button lewdly buttoned low in front. Aside from a pair of pretty hot black panties, Maureen wore nothing else. Joanne had to admit, the girl could work it far better than she could. "I called in sick, remember? I'm not supposed to be out. I'm supposed to be warm in my bed recuperating."

Curling her fingers, she played with fabric edge of Maureen's underwear, unable to stop the silly grin from taking over her expression when the other woman glanced down at the naughty fingertips, eyebrow arching.

"What, am I'm supposed to just stay here with you?"

"I'll make it worth your while."

It was a promise she fully intended to keep, and when Maureen stayed put, shifting on top of her experimentally, she felt her heart jump a little, feeling a little bit like a fool.

"I still want lunch," Maureen told her, thighs tightening at her waist, fingers shifting against Joanne's until they were clutched tightly against hers. "And not at one of those stuffy places like the one you took me to the last time."

"You mean when you showed up at my office and damned near killed my career?"

The smile stiffened, and Joanne shut her mouth, repeating the statement in her head. Maureen loosened her hold on her hands, eyes dropping away from hers, falling forward until she was curled into Joanne's shoulder. Throwing an arm across Joanne's chest, Maureen blew a raspberry deliberately into her shoulder.

"Eww," Joanne commented, wincing at the gooey, spitty mess. Rolling her eyes, Maureen grabbed hold of her expensive sheet and wiped her shoulder.

"All I did was put some spice into your nice, boring, plain job," she told her shamelessly. "You needed a shake up."

"I needed a shake up?" Joanne repeated, eyeing Maureen warily when the mouth came down again. Fortunately, Maureen simply placed a gentle kiss on her collarbone.

"Mmmhmmm. You work too much. You're one of those people who work all the time. You're"" frowning, Maureen searched for the appropriate word.

"Good at my job?"

"A workaholic."

Joanne sighed, feeling the word work a particular sore spot inside of her. It wasn't like she hadn't been called that before, and she already had a defense worked out. "It's kind of hard not to be when you're a lawyer, honey." Sitting up, shifting slightly so that she could move out from under Maureen, she studied the woman in her arms. "When you perform – the type of performances that you do – you have to practice for them, right? I mean, it's not an improvisation."

"Sometimes it is," Maureen answered, reaching up to push one tangled curl out of her face.

"But the one you were telling me about. With the TV's and the cowbell and the music, it requires some practice, I'm sure."

"Well, yeah, if I want it to be good," Maureen answered, and a glimmer was slowly moving into the brown eyes, like the performance artist could see exactly where she was going.

Grinning, Joanne threaded fingers through curls, working through the tangles. "It's almost the same, being a lawyer."

"No shit," came the dry reply, low and husky.

"If I want things to go my way, I have to be prepared. That means hours searching through musty books, and articles, trying to find anything I can that'll help me be prepared. The courtroom isn't that much different than a stage. I need a great performance or I lose."

It made sense, when she thought about it that way, and Joanne smiled, suddenly satisfied with herself, even if she couldn't understand why it seemed so important to find common ground with such a polar opposite.

Still, it brought a beautiful, knowing grin on Maureen's face, as her lover pushed up, sitting up with her to stare into her face.

"So getting you to call in sick was a big deal, huh?" Joanne sucked in her breath, rolling her eyes and fighting a self conscious smirk. "Ms. Jefferson, what will your parents say? To know you've succumbed so easily to my charms?"

The inference to the coming weekend put a stop to the carefree teasing charm. Joanne's smile stiffened, and her eyes shifted to lock intensely with Maureen's.

Swallowing and licking her lips, she reached for a slender wrist and began delicately, "Maybe its better that you don't come tomorrow."

Soft doe eyes widened in response, as if Maureen truly hadn't seen that coming. Glancing down at the hand currently being massaged by Joanne, she opened her mouth, and closed it again.

"But" but I want to go."

"You want to go to a stuffy dinner party with 100 of my parent's closest friends," Joanne repeated, somewhat skeptical. "Maureen, the most exciting thing there will be my dog, Fritzy."

"I like dogs," Maureen insisted, pulling her hand from Joanne's, somehow offended. "And I liked your father. He was nice. He told me stories about you and he invited me personally. He said I should come."

Patience was getting tough, and Joanne held her breath, fingers on her temple as she wondered when on earth she had become a lion tamer. "I know that," she repeated, as calmly and gently as she could. "But honey, my father assumed you and I were" " Glancing up, she studied Maureen's face. She saw nothing but an intense scrutiny that was dangerously close to turning into a glare. "More than what we are," she finished, suddenly cotton-mouthed. Dammit. "Maureen, if you go, everyone will assume that you and I are together, and they will act accordingly."

"So what's so wrong about pretending?" Maureen asked, and rose to her knees, teetering crablike across her bed until she had gotten to the floor, shrugging off her shirt and pulling on Joanne's silk kimono. "It'll be fun."

Maureen had apparently decided this on her own, and frozen, Joanne sucked her breath in through her teeth, watching as her lover flounced to her bathroom. Normally, she was a fighter. Bringing Maureen would be a mistake, and Joanne was balancing enough on her already teetering house of cards.

Opening her mouth to continue the argument, or at least put her foot down and get some hint of her spine back, she was distracted when a sharp ringing cut through the air.

Ignoring the phone, Joanne closed her eyes and placed her palm against her feverish forehead, trying to picture Maureen, charming though she could be, sitting at a table with her parents, explaining to them intricacies of her performance art, beginning with the cow named Elsie.

The machine clicked on, and Joanne winced at the sound of her voice, just like she always did.

Grabbing a robe and shrugging into it, she moved toward the living room, flopping onto the couch just as the beeeeeeeeeeep cued the caller.

"Umm" Joanne? It's Antonia. Suddelson."

Joanne lifted her eyes heavenward and wondered idly if pigs were flying outside.

"Steven told me you were sick, and I was just wondering if you were all right."

Maureen emerged, eyeing the phone with a devilish sparkle in her eyes.

"Don't you dare," Joanne told her, eyes narrowed dangerously when Maureen began to step in the direction of the phone.

Oddly enough, Maureen actually obeyed, sticking out her tongue playfully and staying put, arms crossed, looking amused and wanton.

Joanne found herself annoyed for thinking Maureen was still sexy as hell while Antonia was still droning on.

"-thinking about coming over with some soup-"

Blinking suddenly, the words sunk into her brain, and suddenly she scrambled off the couch, bumping her knee against the wooden coffee table and yelping loudly. Hopping on one foot, she managed to close her hand over the phone, ignoring a laughing Maureen, wincing in pain.

"Antonia! You don't have to do that," she wheezed.

"Oh, God! You sound horrible!"

Maureen actually snorted at that, Antonia's voice loud enough to carry across the room, and when Joanne glared, she shut her mouth like a disciplined child.

"No, no, I'm fine. I just" oh- I hit my knee-" Limping to the sofa, she fell across it, ignoring Maureen's arched eyebrow to rub her knee vigorously with her free hand.

"I can bring you an ice pack-"

"You really don't have to do that." Eyes on Maureen, Joanne warily held her breath when the other woman settled down next to her, drawing her leg into her lap and worked her fingers into Joanne's sore knee. "It's really my" cousin," she grimaced, "-whose sick. She's not feeling well still, and I thought it'd be a good idea to just take the day and watch over her."

Maureen grinned wickedly, and Joanne suppressed a ragged sigh when she bent forward, brunette hair obscuring her face like a falling curtain.

"Oh, I see. Well, it's sweet that you're so close."

"Oh, we're definitely"" Joanne's voice wavered, breath caught in her throat when a warm mouth settled over her knee, sending a shiver up her spine. A possessive hand smoothed up her thigh, and Joanne's eyes closed involuntarily. "Close."

"Well, maybe we can try for something this weekend?"

"I'm um" I'm going to be with my parents this weekend," Joanne said, voice increasingly raspy, dazed and dizzy as Maureen pulled strands from her face and glanced up at her, laughing silently at Joanne's glare. Pushing her knee off her lap, Maureen settled herself between her legs, pulling nimbly at the tie of Joanne's robe.

"Oh. And you'll be with your cousin tonight, I guess."

My God. Warm heat seared onto her skin surrounding her bellybutton, hot breath accompanied teeth that nipped gently, and palms pressed on her ribs, holding her captive as her tormentor nudged at the underside of her breast with her nose.

"Most likely," Joanne agreed, desperately trying to keep her voice steady, even as her body arched underneath Maureen. "But maybe this coming week?"

In that moment, a flat, firm tongue swirled around her areola, and Joanne shuddered.

"Let's try to schedule something," she said, a bit unsteadily, eyes narrowed in shivering wonder as Maureen's head bobbed at her chest. "You know, my cousin's calling, I have to go-"

Clicking off the phone, she tossed it off the bed, letting out a frustrated groan, burying fingers into the brunette mane of hair. "You're fucking evil, Maureen."

The expletive was enough to raise Maureen's head, and display a very smug expression. "So about this weekend""

Groaning, Joanne grabbed hold of Maureen's head, and hauled her up, sinking a warm tongue into Maureen's mouth.

- end chapter