Fate Intervened

Forced to dress in the thin blue bathrobe from the hall bathroom, Max sat by Olive.

"How did you know?" Max asked Ben without looking up from Olive's serene face, the steady rise and fall of the blanket she'd wrapped around her providing a constant reassurance that she was probably okay.

"The dogs. They're pacing like crazy and scratching in Trey's room." He nodded in the direction of the room that was immediately over his own bedroom. "And when I went in the other room to get something, I heard weird shit going on up in your room too. So I came to check."

"Thank goodness!"

"Seems like you had everything under control really..." he said, trying to dodge any praise.

"I mean, he didn't come back. " Her eyes pointed to the front door. "That's something."

He grudgingly nodded, willing to accept that modicum of appreciation.

When authorities arrived minutes later, medical attention was immediately focused on Olive, who was swiftly carried off by ambulance. An officer coming out of Max's room tapped a remaining medic in the living room, something about "rape" in their discussion.

Max jumped in from the sideline grimly. "They didn't get a chance to rape us, thankfully."

The cop leveled his gaze at her. "Your roommate is alleging *you* raped her."

Max's jaw fell open. "No... What? I — that's — she can tell you what happened when she wakes up."

"Until then," someone brought clothes from Max's room for her to put before they took her to the station for questioning, anxious dogs left with Ben in his apartment below.

————

"This is such crap! *We* get attacked, and you have me here like I'd do anything to hurt her? She's still just out. Right? Nothing — she's okay. Right?" Max leaned across the square metal table bolted to the wall.

"Yes," the older of the detectives, reddish mustache groomed within an inch of its life to match his severe haircut, said. "We just need to make sure we understand exactly what happened tonight. Because we have two very different stories."

He leaned back, the younger detective, stoney faced with premature salt in his dark hair, sitting by his side and sipping from a squeaky styrofoam cup.

"I don't know how else to tell you," she grumbled, their tactic of story repetition while looking for inconsistencies was grating beyond belief, almost making her question elements she was certain of under their persistent needling.

"All right," the detectives looked at each other finally, "I'll lay it out for you.

"Your roommate, Mr. Hiller, is alleging that you brought home your 'friend,'" Max hated sarcastic air quotes, "and when you weren't finding her receptive to your advances, you got a water bottle from the kitchen and made a 'joke' about injecting a substance you claimed would make her 'easy,'" Max cringed.

"He believed you were joking, but when he heard suspicious sounds coming from your room, he found you assaulting the unconscious young woman, and he stepped in to intervene."

Max's eyes couldn't blink as she listened to the self-serving lies, shaking her head slowly in disbelief.

"You responded by attacking him and proceeded to take the victim from the room. A neighbor came to the door, and police were called."

"Any of that refresh any parts of your recollection?" the quieter of the two asked heavily.

She shook her head with more force. "No!"

"And we found this in your nightstand." He pulled out an evidence baggie with a syringe.

Max was flabbergasted. "They obviously put that there!"

"Mr. Hiller is contending that the friend you saw in the kitchen left before the altercation, before your 'joke.' 'They' didn't do anything."

"Okay. You've got to stop that!" Max finally snapped. "Sorry, just... I don't know what else to tell you. He's full of shit. Olive will back me up. Are we done?"

They left her to stew.

——

Max had resumed her long-forgotten stress tick of nail biting in the crawling time waiting for the detectives to return. Her eyes cracked as they rotated from their staring position to groggily greet them.

"We spoke with Ms. Smith —"

"She's okay?" Max interrupted excitedly.

"Yes, she is, and she was able to corroborate much of what you told us. Obviously everything after she was drugged is still 'he said, she said —'"

"Oh my god..." Max muttered, using every bit of restraint not to roll her eyes at him and his condescending quote miming.

"She said you *are* the one who brought the drink that appears to have been laced by the syringe found in *your* drawer. However, she didn't seem to think his assessment that she was putting you off in the living room was... genuine." The smirk beneath the hard red line of his mustache suggested Olive had bashfully recounted the couch incident.

"You're free to go. For now. We'll be continuing to talk with witnesses. So stay reachable."

Be more unnecessarily threatening, she thought as she stood to shake their hands. Why was she shaking their hands?

Exhausted mentally and physically, she saw a doe-eyed Olive sitting on a pale green plastic chair in the hall.

She rushed up to throw her arms around Max, hands grabbing opposing elbows behind her back in the crushing hug.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" Max said through lips smooshed into Olive's head.

"Basically. Are you?" Olive asked, pulling back to see her face. "You look rough."

"Yeah, I didn't get much sleep," her joking default took noticeable effort. Looking down at Olive's smooth, rosy cheeks, she said, "You look gorgeous." They brightened even more.

Leaning further in and lowering her voice, Olive muttered urgently, "What the hell happened?"

"My roommate and that skeez from the kitchen tried to drug us. I guess I fucked up their night by not having any of that water. We had a, uh, tussle and that guy..." Max squeezed Olive tighter again as if unseen forces were trying to pull her away.

"He had you and was trying to leave with you."

Olive's eyes were wide with terror. "They did *not* tell me that."

"I don't think they 'believe' me," she said, knowing Olive wouldn't get the reference of her overly sarcastic air quotes but venting nonetheless.

"They asked a lot of —"

"Hold up — sorry. But is that him?" Max pointed to the other side of the lobby. Apparently being released as well, her roommate, purple under his eye near his nose swelling but still recognizable, saw her and looked afraid.

Max stalked up, and he shrank back against the wall. "You can't come after me here." His eyes darted to the cops in every direction. "Can't attack me unprovoked again," he said louder for the audience.

"Shut up. I don't know what bullshit you fed them," she seethed, "but you and I know *exactly* what happened. Anything you don't want burned better be out of your room in 20 minutes." He ran.

"Are you really going to burn his stuff?" Olive asked bemused from behind.

"Maybe," Max answered honestly with a tiny shrug.

"Let me take you back to my house. You look exhausted, and you can bring the dogs. My landlord can go fuck himself if he says anything."

The helpful neighbor Ben hadn't gone back to sleep, staying up instead trying to keep the dogs calm as they heard the constant stream of heavy, unfamiliar footsteps above.

His statement to the authorities wasn't overly helpful, providing no new information. They'd pressed hard, hoping he'd seen this "strange man" fleeing the scene, but he hadn't. Only heard worrying noises and came to find the unconscious girl by the door with the other girl and the injured man in the bedroom.

He was able to swing by the station along with the dogs and take the whole bunch to Olive's. She set Max up in her bed for some well deserved rest. The dogs seemed more than happy to harass her in the kitchen, bumping her to make the spills they knew they were allowed to clean up as she bobbed and weaved making breakfast.

She and Ben ate and talked while Max slept until he had to leave for work, late and without enough energy.

Olive finally popped her head in to check on Max in the early afternoon. A heavy breath suggested waking, and Olive tiptoed in.

Max rolled over, smiling at first, then looking panicked for an instant. It resolved before it could be commented on, and a warm smile dominated finally as her hand crept out from under the blanket.

"Hi," her voice cracked.

"Hi," Olive peeped back, sitting to stroke her forehead and cheeks.

"You look like an angel. For a second thought maybe I'd died," Max grinned.

"Nope," she refuted simply with a cherubic smile.

"Good," Max said with a returning swagger, her arm reaching for Olive's waist. Olive leaned in to the embrace, hair falling to curtain their kiss.

After a moment, Olive leaned back. "You have to be starving."

The gurgling noise that automatically responded from Max's stomach made them laugh.

"I made crepe batter earlier so I can whip some up fresh for you when you got up."

"Wow. Okay," Max sat up smiling.

After a tiny shy pause, Olive said, "Can I watch you get dressed?"

Max's back arched with her eyebrow. "Yeah? Yeah, you can watch me get dressed," she grinned seductively.

Olive stood, and Max threw back the sheet, exposing her entire nude body in one dramatic flourish. Olive blushed and smiled, chewing on her lower lip.

Max stood with a little stiff difficulty, then cast her eyes about for her clothes. Olive didn't want to tell her where they were, enjoying the way her whole body elongated with her neck as she swiveled her head about.

"The undies are the only thing of mine I think would fit you. And I'm not even sure..." Olive said when Max's smile signaled spotting the stack of clothes on the chair by the closet door.

She picked up the black lacy garment, examining the angles with prolonged scrutiny before stepping in and sliding them up. The squarish shorts cuts accentuated the lines of her slender frame.

Turning to face Olive, Max grinned and pulled at the tiny decorative bows sewn onto the front at the points of her hips. "These are cute."

"I'll say," Olive said with a wiggle of the eyebrows.

Max grabbed the tan cargo pants she wore to the station and shook them into alignment before stepping in and fastening them around her slender waist, glancing over her shoulder repeatedly to watch being watched by the quietly appreciative Olive.

As she gradually put on the tissue-thin deep grey T shirt, chest pocket torn slightly and suggesting a hint at the bare skin below, she gave a questioning jut of the chin. "You don't like what you see?"

Realizing she was shaking her head, Olive chuckled. "I'm just in awe. You fought off two grown men. And saved me..."

She shrugged but was obviously enjoying the praise.

Olive crossed over to Max and hooked a finger in the unused belt loop at her waist, pulling her close as her other arm swung around to encircle Max's stomach.

"My hero..." she breathed into Max's down turned face before bringing their lips together, Max's intensely self-satisfied grin interfering only slightly.

A rumble from the middle of their embrace made them laugh again.

———

Grabbing the batter from the fridge and thin pan from the sink, Olive set about making a plate for Max, who was cuddling her excited dogs, getting barraged by happy licks and smacking tails.

"Ben and I talked for a while while you were sleeping. He said something about a knife?" she said, putting butter in the pan and waiting for it to melt.

"Yeah, that guy, he threatened to hurt you." Max looked away uncomfortably, rubbing her elbow absently.

"It's so... surreal. Last thing I knew, we were having fun," she blushed slightly, "and then I'm in a hospital. Everything everyone's telling me... none of it seems real. Obviously I believe you!" she added hastily.

"It's just hard to get my brain to, like, sort it right. To be fair, I think I'm still a little hungover or whatever from that stuff. I don't think I'm my smartest me right now." Twirling a small amount of batter in the pan created a film that instantly solidified into a single thin circle of crepe.

"That already smells good," Max said with a smile, leaning with her palms against the sink to watch.

"They take, like, two seconds to make at this stage. How many do you want? And fruit? Cheese? Chocolate? An egg?"

"Oh jeez, this is some high quality service. A couple with whatever fruit's going is fine — I mean great!" She slid her hands around Olive's waist from behind, nuzzling her nose behind her ear.

Olive reached back to run her fingers up and down the buzzed hair near the other woman's ear, pressing against her firmly.

"I know you didn't do it," Olive said softly.

"Hm?" Max purred into her ear.

"That crap about you drugging me," she shook her head. "I don't believe it for a second." She shrugged. "Just in case you needed to hear it out loud."

Max kissed the side of her head.

The second crepe was flipped to the uncooked side.

Olive's left hand went to the arms around her midriff. "What do you think would have happened... if you had gotten knocked out too?"

"Yeah, that's something I've been trying *not* to think about, actually," Max muttered.

"Sorry. Right before eating too. I suck," Olive chastised herself.

"You absolutely don't need to do that," Max chirped into her ear. "You'd never talk to someone you love like that. You're allowed to be nice to yourself."

Olive blushed and turned in to Max's embrace for a moment before disengaging to cut half a banana into slices to layer in the folded crepes.

"Here you go!" she said presenting the extremely late breakfast with a delightful smile.

"Thanks!"

Max inhaled everything on the plate and looked like she was warring with asking for more. Olive offered before it came to that, making a second nearly identical plate.

"Let me get you some pain killers now that you've eaten," Olive said, retrieving a glass of water and pills, returning to Max sneaking bits of her crepe to the attentive brown furry chunks who stared intently at her from either side of the chair.

"You must be sore. Though you look fine," Olive said with a scanning glance and a wink.

As Max took the pills, Olive stood behind, hands moving to rub the bundles of muscle at the sides of her neck, letting her head roll forward, massaging up.

Max sighed appreciatively and let her shoulders go limp.

"Do you need anything else?" Olive asked softly, hint of hopefulness lilting at the end. From the side, she could see Max's face pull into a grin.

"I could probably use a shower," Max's eyes were closed as she spoke over her shoulder.

"Awesome — I mean, yeah, I can get that going." After another moment of kneading into the softly moaning Max, Olive let her fingers trail away, and she slipped out of the room.

The squeaky knobs drew the excited attention of the dogs, followed by Max, trying to shoo them out. "They love the water. Sorry." Olive could still hear them panting behind the door. They never seemed to bark.

"Are you gonna join me?" Max asked so matter of factly it startled her.

"I mean..." Olive's hand went to tuck her loose hair behind her ear bashfully.

"Can I watch you get undressed?" Max leaned against the door, willowy arms folded over her chest, huge grin lighting her face as she returned her lover's prior request.

Olive couldn't understand how Max was able to consistently make her feel so off center but safe. Her skin felt lobster red.

Wordlessly she took the bottom edge of her loose T shirt and pulled it over her head, shoulder-length brown hair falling around her neck and shoulders as it came free of the shirt she left balled on the counter.

Steam beginning to accumulate in the space behind the shower curtain and billow beyond gave an ethereal blur to the hard lines of reality.

Under the eyes of the connoisseur at the door, Olive felt like a fine wine, being wholly enjoyed, slowly opened to experience on a level inaccessible to someone who didn't have the knowledge or patience to reveal layer after layer of her sensual beauty.

Loose drawstring waist of her dark blue lounging pants hooked in her thumbs, Olive wiggled her bottoms down to her ankles, stepping out to stand on the shaggy rug in front of the whooshing shower.

The fully-clothed Max ran her fingers through her shock of hair, shaking her head in disbelief. "Venus," she whispered.

Looking down, Olive chuckled. The slight self-consciousness ran headlong into the desire to be consumed visually, resulting in a pose that could easily be a painting, left hand crossing her chest but covering nothing, right hand paused on her thigh, dangerously close to her triangle of pubic hair.

When she looked up, Max was stepping into her space, hands at her back to press their bodies together as she devoured her lips.

Olive splayed her fingers, desperate to touch as much of Max's back as she could running her hands over her thin shirt.

Grudgingly and with two false starts, Max was able to pull herself free enough to whip her clothes off, kicking everything unceremoniously away to resume the needy attention of Olive's lips. With one hand locked in the hair at the back of her head and the other swooping her forward by the small of her back, Max pulled the entirety of Olive flush with her bare body.

Olive's knees failed briefly as a hot wave of need echoed through them. Max shifted a foot forward, holding her up and against her body as her tongue explored the other woman's mewling mouth.

Eyes looking up and heavy with need, Olive carefully whispered, "Let me worship you."

Shaking their glued bodies with a laugh, Max gave a quick nod and said, "Yeah, okay." She took Olive with one hand and tested the temperature of the rushing water with the other.

Barely able to see through the haze of endorphins and steam, Olive stepped carefully in to face Max, the hot water shooting directly onto the taller woman's shoulders. Clear sheets of water constantly forming and falling down her chest and smooth abdomen accentuated her boxy, subtly muscular frame.

It was easy to follow the pull of the falling water and end on her knees in front of the nearly invisible remainder of light pubic hair dotted just above her rounding pussy lips.

"Angel," she heard the moan from above as she dove to surround her engorging clit with her warm lips, one hand on Max's thigh, the other parting her sex for deeper access to the slippery stickiness rushing to meet her.

The slap of a wet hand on the tile wall above for support made Olive grin and enthusiastically redouble her attentive lapping. Sliding one finger in too easily, she thrust in three slender fingers suddenly, clit under the firm pressure of her tongue.

Max's hips rolled into Olive's tiny pumps, hand pawing uselessly at the top of her wet head.

Looking up, Olive's thumb replaced her tongue on Max's clit. "My hero," she said with a sultry smirk.

"Fuck, baby," Max crumbled, arching back at odds with standing as she squirmed in Olive's pumping, massaging hands. When she opened her eyes, the impish grin on Olive's upturned face was enough to send a another shudder through her.

Trailing fingers along her abdomen as Olive rose drew more quivers until they were in each other's arms in the running water, staring dreamily.

"I love you," Max said airily.

Olive laughed, then tried to soften her reaction to a highly amused grin. She kissed the woman who was still too high on endorphins to get offended. "I bet."

"Well," Max replied with a happy sigh, coming down to functioning levels of brain chemicals, "I don't see anything *not* to love. So I'm just going to keep loving you, and you're gonna have to deal with it."

"Okay. But no one's moving in with anyone," she gave Max's tight stomach a jabbing tickle.