Transgendence

He turned the car's engine off, and the fan ran on by itself in a faint whirr. It did have its own thermostat, to cool down. Hannah took a deep breath, and opened the car door. Behind her, she heard Adam's door open, then shut, and she was committed.

"How about you get the permit, and I'll pop back and put it on the dash?"

"Passenger's side," said Hannah.

"Of course."

'Grrr,' Hannah chided herself, 'why do I make this so hard?' She prided herself for being independent, doing things on her own, but sometimes she wondered if she was hiding. From herself. She unzipped the side pocket of her bag and found the house-keys.

"Can you see?" Adam spoke softly, or was he standing a little distance away, not invading her space? Does he do that instinctively, Hannah thought, or is he like a big cat and I'm his prey? Just then the security light came on, triggered by their movement. She turned around to see him, and he wasn't a panther or a tiger at all, just a respectful man who seemed to understand what fears a woman might go through, late at night. She took one step towards him, moving into his space.

"No, I'm fine. The light, it always comes on a bit late. It might be the wrong angle, I should adjust it."

"Perhaps I could fiddle with it. Another time, not now."

"Yes, that would be useful." God, Hannah, she thought, just stop talking!

She turned back to the door and slid the key into the lock smoothly, thankfully, without having to peer at it or jiggle, as she often had to do.

"Perhaps I should go." Again, Adam's voice was soft, giving her one final chance.

"No," she said. The lock clicked open, making her choice final. "You must stay. I'll..."

"The permit, Hannah." He gently reminded her.

"Of course. I'll get it." She let herself in, and quickly found the laminated card, right where she knew it would be. "Here you are."

"Back in a sec."

She watched him as he returned to the car and put the permit on the dash. He closed the door with a soft thunk, and remote clicked the locks. Hannah took a step down the hall, two steps, her heart beating fast. She heard him come in and close the door, and she heard the rattle of keys as he put them on the table. That must be his car keys, she thought, her head -

"Hannah, are you okay? You look..."

"No, I'm..." She suddenly felt giddy, and reached out for the wall to steady herself, and just as suddenly, "I'm..." he was beside her, catching her, stopping her falling.

"I've got you, careful now." He lowered her to the ground, crouching beside her. "Deep breaths, that's it, two deep breaths, you'll be okay. Head between your knees."

Hannah's head swirled for a moment, and Adam's voice seemed distant, then came closer.

"Hannah? Hannah? Are you with me?"

"Am I... where...?"

"Honey, you fainted. Just as well I was here. You could have bumped your head."

"God, I'm sorry, I..."

"What's to be sorry about? You can't help it if you faint. Here, let me help you up. We'll get you somewhere else."

Unsteadily, Hannah got to her feet, with Adam's hand at her waist.

"Where...?" Adam asked where he should take her. "Ahh, here's the lounge, let's get you settled."

He flicked the light switch on and helped Hannah to the sofa, placing her down gently. He unzipped her ankle boots and took them off. "Feet up, I'll find a rug, keep you warm. Your skin, it's cold." His hand was warm on her leg.

"Please, don't fuss." Hannah's voice was tiny in her embarrassment.

"I'll fuss." He was certain about it. "You didn't eat, did you, tonight? When was the last time you ate?" He looked down at her, then draped a rug over her, tucking it in close. "Too long ago. Where's the kitchen?"

"Down the hall. At the end. But don't-"

Adam silenced her with a finger on her lips. "Sshhh, you. Be looked after."

He caressed her hair, smoothing it away from her face. "There. I can see you."

Hannah watched him go, heard him click light switches on, turn on the kettle with a whoosh of the gas. She heard cupboards open and shut, and realised he'd find her packet of chocolate biscuits but not much else. She heard the fridge door open, and felt herself inspected, because there wasn't much in the fridge, either. At least she knew the milk was fresh.

She heard the toaster go down, and then the kettle sing. She even heard the gas go off. Then there was the sound of a spoon in a mug, and she knew he'd put sugar in because she needed sweet tea. Then the scrape of a knife on toast and the smell was so delicious and she was melting already, and she remembered his eyes were a deep blue and oh so steady, looking at her. She'd looked away like she always did, and next time, she promised herself she'd look at his lips rather than the wall behind him.

"Hannah? Sit up, honey, or there'll be crumbs." He handed her a plate with two slices of hot buttered toast and he'd found her favourite jam. Well, the only jam, but he'd slathered it on thick. More sugar, because she needed a quick boost.

"Here, drink this," and he held a hot mug to her lips, holding it in both hands like she was a little girl and might spill it, and when he trusted her not to, he let her hold it in both her hands. His hands were so warm as he steadied hers.

She looked gratefully up at him, and saw the fondness in his eyes as he watched her drink. She held his gaze for a long moment but it was too much, and she looked down at the cup instead. Then she peeked up at him, and he was still watching she didn't spill. He brushed a strand of hair away from her cheek. "It keeps falling. You need a band, or a clip.

"Eat slowly. There's more if you need. I'll be right back."

Hannah reached out for him, but he was gone, out of the room. She heard his footsteps, and tried to figure out where he was. She took a bite of toast, and realised just how hungry she was.

Adam returned. "I found these, in your room, on your bed. Come on, let's get you out of that jacket, into comfy clothes."

Hannah sat up, put the plate down, and he helped her off with the jacket.

"Arms up." She did as instructed, like a child, and he pulled the hoody down over her head, and snugged it down her body. "Undo the zip, bum up," and before she could even think twice, he'd pulled the short skirt down her long legs, and just as quickly, pulled a pair of track pants over her feet and up her legs, patting her on the bum once to lift up.

"There, that's better. Now you look warm. Shivering girl, in my car."

Adam stood back, satisfied with the job he'd done. He took his own cup and sat at the other end of the sofa, lifting her feet up and placing them on his lap.

"You look better. Some colour's back in your cheeks. I've never seen someone so pale."

Hannah looked at him, and when she did manage a brave smile, she really was very beautiful. When she'd finished eating, she swivelled around on the couch and lay her head on his shoulder. Adam placed his arm around her, and gently stroked her hair.

After a little while, Hannah placed two fingers on his lips, then on hers, and several moments after that, she was asleep.

Adam sat peacefully as the woman slept on his shoulder, and later, with her head on his lap. He gazed down on her face, remembering the girl he'd cared for long ago, who'd looked up at him with stoned, stoned eyes. He'd stroked the hair away from her cheek.

Later, much later, Hannah stirred and looked up. Adam was asleep. She snuggled back down, her hand over his where he held her. She trusted him with her life, and she didn't know him at all.

* * * *

"My goodness, Jane. How are you going to follow that?"

Hannah pressed the page down key, but that's where it ended, he'd not written more.

"Could you make me another cup, sweetie? If I'm late up, you'll know what I'm doing." Jane scrolled back up the page to read through it again.

Later, from their room, Hannah heard Jane still typing. She smiled. This was just what Jane needed, but still, she liked second opinions, so it was no surprise to Hannah when Jane peeked around the bedroom door to whisper, "You still awake?"

Hannah rolled across and flicked on the bedside light, then rubbed her eyes.

"What time is it?"

Jane came to sit next to her on the edge of the bed with her laptop.

"About two. I'm afraid I'm stuck. I'm in a dilemma -- would you help?" Jane asked, stroking Hannah's arm.

"Why, what's up? I'm not sure how much I can help, I mean you're writing me -- isn't that how it's supposed to work?" Hannah replied with a wry smile.

Jane ignored the question and went on.

"It's just the Adam has got you where he wants you. I know it happened because of your famous fainting trick..."

"Unfair! But go on," Hannah interrupted.

"But it seems like the next thing is that you're going to shag him, and then fall for him, because you always do that. He'll leave, because -- no offence -- he's a player, and then you'll be hurt," Jane counted the points off with her fingers.

"Argh, Jane! You're impossible at times. It's just sex -- it's not like, I dunno - a commitment. That's what people do, honey. There are people all round the world right now, screaming someone else's name to the person they're shagging. It's only trying someone out. It's fun. You know F-U-N?" Hannah was exasperated, but then realised she'd gone too far. Jane wasn't puritanical, but she wasn't free-wheeling, either. She was her mother's daughter, firm in her moral principles without going to church on Sundays.

Jane stared at her feet, hugging the laptop to her chest. "I just don't want you to get hurt," she said, with a quiver in her voice.

Hannah reached across and pulled her friend into her shoulder, feeling Jane shake with a sob. She realised how important this was.

"Oh sweetie. You don't want anyone to get hurt, ever, in the whole world, ever. That's why I love you, but you should try to have some fun too. Put that laptop down and please come to bed," Hannah gently insisted.

Jane reluctantly smiled, but she let Hannah prise the computer from her hands and set it down on the floor. Hannah swung herself out of bed. She bent to take the socks off Jane's feet, kissed her toes, then lifted her legs under the covers.

Hannah was only slightly annoyed and so, having turned off the lights in the other room and checked the front door, she came back into the bedroom. Jane had turned her face to the wall and was absent-mindedly pursing her lips with her fingers.

Hannah crawled up the bed on all fours and tried to stare Jane into looking back at her, but she could see Jane was still troubled by her thoughts.

"You set such high standards for yourself, impossibly high. You're too hard on yourself, honey." Hannah spoke softly and gently brushed Jane's hair. "Come back to me, love, please?" She wiped a tear from her friends cheek.

Jane sighed, knowing that Hannah was right. She turned to face Hannah, who bent to touch her lips with a kiss.

"More. I need more kisses," Hannah whispered, and peppered Jane's lips with affection.

Finally the dark clouds in Jane's mind blew away under the warmth and love she felt for Hannah. This was her girl, her love and she was here right now, in this moment. Jane was stubborn, sometimes, in her world, but she wouldn't fight Hannah's love. She raised her head to meet Hannah's lips and both sensed the change of tempo.

Their kisses moved from pizzicato to andante, the notes of their melody slower, more deliberate; their fingers moving with longing, allargando.

Hannah sat back and pulled her t-shirt off so that could be no misunderstanding. She kneeled above Jane, her soft breasts barely hung. Jane tried to do the same from where she lay, but ended up giggling as her top became a strait-jacket. Hannah came to her rescue, yanking it over Jane's arms to free her.

Hannah lay on top of Jane, her legs between the other girl's legs as they kissed again. Appassionato.

"More. I need more skin," Hannah breathed into Jane's ear.

They both rushed to remove the last items of their clothing, their sweats and their knicks. Hannah slipped under the covers, feeling the smoothness of Jane's limbs against hers, their skin gliding together like warm satin. With legs entwined, Jane turned her head to let Hannah place lingering kisses on her neck and up behind her ear while she stretched her body underneath Hannah's impatient weight.

Hannah pushed back against Jane's hips as their bodies ached with a mutual hunger.

Hannah dragged her nose across Jane's breast, closing first her lips, then her teeth on the nipple, tugging at the pink flesh. The sweet pain made Jane cry out and clench her fingers into Hannah's hair, but instead of pushing her away, she pulled Hannah's mouth down harder. She writhed under the comfort of her lover's weight and reached for the flesh of Hannah's bottom, now tensed as they pressed their hips ever tighter together.

Hannah rolled over, pulling Jane with her, one leg under, the other over hers. Jane shuffled her body closer so that their sexes became one. With arms draped, nipples brushing, they kissed hungrily, each making little noises in their throat, sighing gasps or names or half words, filling the air around them with whispers.

Hannah reached her fingers into the wet space of their sliding sex, finding her own clitoris, twisting to tease Jane's bud of flesh.

They clung to each other, breasts pillowed and faces pressed side by side -- a mouth at each ear. They each felt the urgency of their need as Hannah drove them on, her fingers slippery and a blur, in one sex then the other.

Jane's orgasm arrived with a howl as she gripped and clawed at Hannah's back, giving herself up to her lover's insistence. They shared the same heat and wetness, shared the same finger that circled and dived. Hannah pushed Jane first and harder, then turned the pads of her fingers to herself to follow to where Jane was waiting for her in ecstasy. Even though Jane held her tight, Hannah's orgasm bent her forward, so that their breasts unpeeled from each other. Hannah whispered noises of disbelief to Jane's ears, "Oh my honey, my honey, oh my honey."

They both fought for breath, breathing each other in; the air thick with their heat, their mouths sticky with the taste of each other's skin. They became a symmetry of arms in a circle of ring-a-roses, their legs joined in one glistening place, their flesh merged as one. Their bodies entwined like a spiral drawn by a calligrapher's hand with their feet as little seraphs. Faces glued with tangled hair, the arch of their spines rising then falling with a tempo that lulled to lento legato, little breasts hung as soft shapes in the cave between their bodies.

This was their triumph -- the view from the summit they had climbed together. As they turned to descend from their high, it was time to be together, blessed with happiness.

"You should write about passion more often," Hannah whispered, "if this is where it takes us."

Jane smiled, stroking Hannah's warm, lovely body."I think I will. We'll see."

* * * *

Hannah stirred, and looked up. Adam was asleep, a slight snore from the back of his throat, his hand still on her waist. She peered at the kitchen clock, making out it was a little after two in the morning. She shivered, the flat was getting colder, she should get herself to bed.

But what about Adam? He'd get cold too, and the sofa was too small for his long body to fit comfortably. She lay still, and remembered the number of chances he'd given her to say no, please don't come in. She decided, Adam being older and he seemed quite chivalrous, and if she was subtle, surely he'd take the hint not to do anything?

Then she remembered the way he'd dressed her in warm clothes, sliding her skirt down her legs, swiftly pulling up her track bottoms, doing it without a fuss. If he was that down to earth, automatically caring for her when she was poorly, then surely...

Her mind drifted to another thought. He was older, how many women had he had, and how was she any different? Would he think she was different because she was trans? Had he been with a trans woman before? She had no way of knowing - had he even seen her? She had no way of knowing that, either.

Hannah lay still, pondering her options. Then she decided.

She gently shook Adam, stroking his hand to wake up him up. "Adam," she whispered, "sleepy head, wake up. It's getting cold, and there's only one bed."

"Wha...? What's that?" He stirred.

"It's getting cold," she said, "but there's only one bed. Can I trust you, if we share it? To keep warm, but nothing's happening. I don't want that." She stopped talking, realising what she'd just said. "I mean, I'd be interested, me, but we've only just... we hardly know each other." God, Hannah, shut up, she said to herself. You're carrying on.

"That's really sweet, Hannah, thank you. Two sides of the bed, right? Your side, my side, line down the middle? You're right, it is getting cold."

Adam took her cheek in his hand, and felt the slight weight as Hannah lay on it, but it was so light, like an angel on a pillow made of cloud, that he suspected Hannah might not even know she did it. She was more concerned with establishing their sleeping rules.

"I need to use your loo, though, before I go back to sleep. But you first, if you need to go."

Hannah smiled at him, relieved that he'd made it so easy. She also realised he was giving her to time to get into bed first, to preserve her modesty.

"Thank you," she said, for so many things.

"My pleasure," he replied, for so many more.

Hannah went down to the bathroom and closed the door, but even so, Adam heard the bang of cupboards, the trickle and rush of her pee, the flush of the toilet and the running of water as she washed her hands, cleaned her teeth. There was something so intimate about a woman at her ablutions, so natural, down to earth. It was a human being thing, not a sexual thing, and made him grateful to be alive. Adam liked it, being allowed to share, even if Hannah didn't know she was sharing, didn't know how intimate it was.

Hannah came out of the bathroom, and smiled shyly at him. She'd washed her face and taken her make up off. She looked younger, fresher, even if her face was a bit puffy from sleep. She'd pulled her hair back in a loose pony tail with a simple band. Adam assumed she did it for sleeping - during the day, from what he could see, she used her hair for hiding.

"Me next, huh?"

She nodded. "There's a spare towel. On the rack, next to mine."

"Thanks, I'll use it."

Adam looked at her and thought, deep down, there was an innocence about her, even a naivety. He thought it precious, something to keep.

He stepped into the bathroom and used the toilet, peeing on the side of the bowl so as to not make a sound. It was a habit he'd got into at university, where the residential college bathrooms were unisex and it just seemed the thing to do. He washed his hands, splashed water on his face, put a dab of toothpaste on his finger and quickly cleaned his teeth.

He studied himself in the mirror, pondering exactly how he'd got himself into this woman's place of trust. He felt she didn't give that up easily, and then he remembered the look she'd given Jude in the gallery. That was longing. She's fragile, he thought, but wasn't letting it show.

He took a deep breath, then opened the door, deliberately rattling the door knob so Hannah would know he was coming.

"Are you in bed?" he asked, to make sure. "Quite decent?"

"Yes," she replied, "but you don't need to worry. I always sleep in a tee and knicks, so I'm decent, yes."

"Bloody hell, I didn't think. I always sleep naked, coz I sleep hot. Is that okay? I sleep on my side," he quickly added, to reassure her. "I can sleep in my jocks, if you'd rather."

Hannah's face was half hidden under the doona, so he couldn't read her reaction properly, but he did see her eyes widen.