Crystal's Heart

by B L Miller

part 1

Fan Covers

Disclaimers:  I suppose there should be just so the reader doesn't go in blind.   The usual for a B L story, explicit love scenes ahead.  There are references and reflections to physical and sexual abuse so if that sort of thing gets you upset, you might want to look for a different story to read.  Alcohol and drugs, yes.  Car chases and guns, no..

My deepest thanks to my beta readers for all of their patience and help.

Started 4-10-99, Finished 1-4-01

Crystal's Heart will soon be available as a paperback from Jane Doe Press.

The crowd became louder as the lights went down. Behind the curtain, Crystal double-checked the fittings on her peel-away outfit. She listened to the stage manager, Rick, welcome everyone and go through the list of women performing that evening. All were familiar names to her, having worked at the Tom Cat lounge for almost six months now. Two women dressed in skimpy costumes brushed past her to take their positions on stage. Crystal nodded and waited next to the center pole.

"And so, without further ado," Rick said, "Here are the Tom Cat Kittens starring the kitten of the month, Crystal Peaks!"

The crowd became louder as the lights went down. The curtain went up and the music began. Crystal wrapped her left calf around the pole, waiting for the right moment. The driving, sexy beat was designed to capture the carnal mood of the show and the blonde stripper knew how to use that mood to her advantage. As she gave her fake smile to the audience, her eyes scanned the tables nearest the stage. Experience had taught her well and Crystal was able to quickly pick out the prime candidates for tips. Facing the most promising prospect, a middle-aged man holding several bills in his hand, she gave him a wink and spun around the pole. The girls on either side of her did likewise and they fell into the oft performed routine. As the music changed, Crystal tugged on the corset, pulling it away from her body. Giving a false smile to the cheers, she shook and wiggled her breasts as she had so many times before. Keep looking, she thought to herself coldly. Look all you want, you'll never have it. She shimmied and shook, causing her oiled mounds to bounce and sway in time with the music.

Tonight, however, fate had other plans for the young stripper. As she moved along the edge of the stage, bending down to let the patrons stick money along her G-string, a large hand reached out and pulled her off the stage. Crystal found herself on the lap of a balding man, his hand still gripping her arm.

"I want a little more than shaking for my money, baby," he said lecherously, using his free hand to paw at her exposed breasts. His iron grip made it impossible for her to get away, forcing her to put up with the fondling until the bouncers arrived to remove the offending patron. As much as Crystal wanted a minute to recover, a glare from Rick forced her back upon the stage.

Several rows back, the waiter placed a drink on the table. "Will there be anything else?" he asked.

"I'm all set," the man said, turning towards his strikingly beautiful companion. "What about you, Laura?"

She held up her half-finished glass. "I'm still working on this one, Peter." She put her pen down on the notepad and smirked. "Remember, getting me drunk doesn't help your cause at all. Better to spend your money on Studley over there." She pointed at one of the bouncers.

"Oh yeah, fat chance of that," Peter replied. He ran his fingers through his thinning red hair and looked at the bouncer again. "You think he is?"

"Well…" Laura took another sip of her scotch and soda. "If he is, you'd better hope he's into receiving and not giving or you'll be sore little man tomorrow."

"Oh but for a man like that," Peter sighed, earning a chuckle from her. "And what about you?" He motioned with his eyes at the stage. "A set like those could smother you."

"Yeah but what a way to go." Laura finished her drink and motioned at the waiter. "Besides, that's not what we're here for."

"Yeah, yeah…I know you're just getting the layout right for the story. Jeez, you gonna pine away forever?"

"I'm not pining away," she said frostily. "I just don't think a stripper is exactly what I'm looking for in a mate, that's all."

"Who said anything about lifelong commitment? I'm talking you taking Miss Big Tits back to your place and rocking her world for the night." He leaned back and lit a cigarette. "Come on, Laura. You need more in your life than your computer and your stories. You gotta admit she's a good looking package."

"Thanks but no thanks, Peter. We're just here so I can get the details right." She sipped her drink, letting the liquid burn down her throat.

"It's your choice," he said, shaking his head. "Nothing wrong with a little tumble in the hay once in a while."

"You are such a slut, Peter," she said with a smile. "You live with Michael and run around like single man. You must buy condoms by the case."

"At least I don't need a calendar to remember when I last had sex." Laura gave him a death glare but the young man smirked and looked back at the stage. "Say what you want, my dear. I say you're still pining away for her."

"I am not," she hissed, jabbing his arm with her elbow.

"Then why haven't you found a new roommate? You know you can't afford that place on your own."

"You're my rental agent. How am I supposed to get someone in there when you won't show the place?" she retorted, twirling the swizzle stick in the drink.

"I have yet to find anyone who meets your high standards, Laura. I don't think the Pope himself would meet your requirements."

"You think I'm being unreasonable?"

"Unreasonable?" Peter threw his head back and laughed. "You want a non-smoker, non-drinker, first and last month's rent plus an additional month for security. No pets, no kids, no…"

"I get it," she grumbled. "I'm not that bad, but I have to be able to live with the person." She sighed and picked up her drink. "Don't you know any gay guys looking for a place?"

"You wouldn't want any of the ones I know, trust me." He smirked and drained his glass. "They're all neurotic or hopelessly hung up on either their mothers or their ex's."

"Oh, you mean like you?" she teased.

Peter feigned a hurt look for a second before grinning. "Well at least I'm getting it from someone other than Rosy palm and her five friends."

"Touché." Laura said as she glanced at her watch. "It's getting late and I have to meet with the editor early tomorrow."

"They still won't move your deadline?"

Laura shook her head. "You'd think I asked for a million dollar bonus and a one year extension." She rose to her feet and reached for her jacket. "Thanks for coming with me tonight." She picked up her notebook and purse after Peter helped her get her jacket on. "Call me as soon as you hear anything about the apartment."

"I will." As they headed toward the front door, he spotted a corkboard with dozens of business cards held in place by multi-colored thumbtacks. "Ah, there's a good idea." Reaching into his pocket, he found one of his cards and put it up in the middle of the board.

**********************

Entering her apartment, Crystal threw her keys on the coffee table and sorted through the mail on her way into the kitchen. "Junk mail and bills," she grumbled, tossing the pile on the counter. She opened the refrigerator to reveal little more than outdated condiments and a nearly empty container of milk. She briefly considered having something delivered but the late hour ruined that idea. "Fuck it." Opening the freezer, the stripper pulled out a small pizza. She put it in the toaster oven and took a glass from the cabinet before heading to the living room. Next to the couch was a half-empty bottle of whiskey purchased the night before. Crystal filled the glass before reaching for her lighter and the joint sitting next to it. The pungent smoke burned her lungs but she held her breath for as long as she could before letting it out slowly. Almost instantly she felt a fuzziness, her body relaxing under the marijuana's influence. Another long toke followed by several sips of whiskey and the stripper was too stoned to remember the cooking food. She turned on the television, pressing the buttons on the remote until she found the music videos. She paid no attention to the band on the screen, caring more for the pounding rhythm that numbed her senses in concert with the pot and booze.

Crystal's nose twitched as the foul smoke brought her back from unconsciousness. "Wha-what the hell?" Her mind still fuzzy, it took several seconds for her to realize that something was wrong. By then the fire from the toaster oven had spread up into the cabinets and across the kitchen. The fire was too much for her to even think about putting out with an extinguisher. Throwing a lamp off of an overturned milk crate, Crystal began filling the container with her most prized possessions; a small trophy, a ceramic figurine, an old photo album, a folder with her important papers and as many clothes as she could stuff on top. As an afterthought she hooked her pocketbook around her neck, fearing she wouldn't be allowed back in to get it. She was right.

The fire department was already there, having been called by one of the neighbors. As soon as Crystal exited her apartment, they moved in with hoses to douse the flames. The stripper stood by helplessly as gallons of water poured into her apartment, saving the structure but ruining everything she'd left behind. It was either cry or be mad and Crystal chose the latter. After putting her I.D. and money in her pockets, she found someone willing to watch her lone crate of belongings for the night. After making sure she was no longer needed, Crystal went off in search of the nearest bar.

The blonde stripper was well into her second twenty dollar bill when a heavyset but pleasant looking guy walked up to her. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Do I look like I need another drink?" she snapped. "Go waste your lines on someone else."

"Hey, I was just trying to be nice," he protested. "You just looked so alone over here in the corner."

"Did it occur to you that it might be by choice?" Crystal banged her empty glass on the counter, catching the bartender's attention. The would-be Romeo gave up and returned to his companions while she numbly took the fresh drink.

"Last call," the bartender said as he walked away. The stripper drained her glass as quickly as she could and forced a wink and a smile to get one more drink before he officially closed the bar.

Staggering out into the late night air, Crystal stumbled her way towards her burned out apartment and the parking lot that her car was parked in. She would spend the night curled up in her back seat, too drunk to notice the cold until morning.

***************

"No Laura, I haven't found anyone yet," Peter said into the phone as he waved in the woman standing in his doorway. "I'll put an ad in the paper tomorrow, okay? Yes, I'll call you as soon as I hear something….Okay…bye." He hung up the phone and nodded in the direction of the empty chair. "Please, take a seat, Miss. What can I do to help you today?"

"I need an apartment," she replied.

"Well then you've come to the right place." He smiled and pulled out a large binder full of pictures. "We have several apartments available within eight different complexes throughout the area. Are you looking for furnished or unfurnished, Miss…?"

"Sheridan. Crystal Sheridan. I'm looking for furnished. But it needs to be less than five-fifty plus utilities."

"Well…." Peter gave his best smile and clasped his hands together. "I'm afraid the least expensive one-bedroom we have goes for six seventy-five."

"Oh." She tossed the business card she had taken from the board at the club and tossed it on his desk. "I'll look somewhere else."

Noticing the thumbtack mark on the card, it took only a second for Peter to figure out why the blonde woman looked so familiar. "Wait!" he said excitedly, clenching his hands tight to keep his emotions inside. "Would you be interested at all in a roommate situation? I know this absolutely adorable two bedroom townhouse with a balcony and reserved parking. It's renting for four-fifty plus half of the utilities." He opened the file drawer and pulled out the folder for Laura's apartment.

Crystal hesitated. "I don't do well with roommates."

"Oh, but this is perfect for you," he replied. "The woman who lives there now, Laura, is a writer and spends most of her time locked up in her room working on her story." He took the sheet of paper listing Laura's rules out and was looking over it when Crystal took a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of her jean jacket. Smiling, he discreetly put Laura's list in the can next to his desk. "She's very easy going," he assured.

"Good. I can't live with someone who bitches about every little thing."

"Of course not." Peter used his foot to slowly push the waste can under his desk. "Just take a look at this." He pulled out one of the pictures of the townhouse. "Have you ever seen a more breathtaking place? Right here is the breakfast nook, a wonderful place for Sunday morning brunches and over here…" He handed her another picture, "…is a better view of the layout. The bedrooms are upstairs as is the full bath. See? Privacy and convenience all in one."

"I still don't know." Crystal bit her lower lip and looked again at the pictures. The apartment was better than the one she had just lost and the cost was substantially less. "Is there a laundry room on site?"

"Better than that." He pointed at one of the pictures. "See those louvered doors? The washer and dryer are in there. All you need to do is buy your softener and detergent." He pushed the first picture in front of her again. "Did you have a dishwasher in your old apartment?"

"No."

"Maintenance just installed a new one in this townhouse not two months ago. Surely a busy woman such as yourself would appreciate the convenience of having a dishwasher and laundry facilities."

"Four-fifty plus half the utilities?"

"Exactly. Of course you do need first, last, and your security deposit," he said sweetly.

Crystal sighed and stood up. "This just isn't going to work."

"B-but this would be perfect for you," the red haired man protested as he rose to his feet. "I've been in this particular apartment and let me tell you it is absolutely gorgeous." He waved his hands excitedly. "What could possibly be wrong?"

"I don't have that much money."

"If you need a week or two, I'm sure I can save it for you."

"I can't wait a week or two. My apartment burned down last night. I need a place now."

"Oh you poor dear," Peter gasped, bringing his hands to his face. Crystal rolled her eyes and opened the door. "Wait." He stepped around the desk and closed the door. "I'm sure we can work something out. We can take payments on the last month and security." He reached over and picked up the pictures. "Take another look and tell me that isn't the dream apartment. Did I tell you that it was within walking distance of the Super Mall and Bragg Lake?"

Watching Crystal stare at the pictures, it was all Peter could do not to giggle with excitement. "Before you turn it down, Miss Sheridan…it is Miss, isn't it?" He smiled at her nod. "Let's go take a look at it, shall we?" Without waiting for an answer, he picked up the phone and dialed Laura's number. To his intense delight, the writer wasn't home. "Well now," he said as he hung up the phone. "If you'd like to ride with me, we can be there in five minutes." He took the key taped to Laura's folder and put it in his pocket.

"I'll take my own car," Crystal said firmly.

"Um…sure, that's fine. Would you mind dropping me back off here when we're done?"

"My car is a mess," she lied. "It's best to take both cars."

Peter shrugged his shoulders and smiled. "Miss Sheridan, I guarantee you will adore this place."

Once they arrived at the complex, Crystal had no choice but to agree with him. Fifty townhouses were scattered about the property, winding roads and trees helping to create a sense of privacy between the buildings. Following Peter's lead, she pulled her car into a parking space.

"Have you ever seen a more exquisite place?" Peter asked as she stepped out of her car. "We have a full time grounds crew and maintenance is just a phone call away." He led the way up the walk to the front door. The door opened into a tastefully designed living room. Abstract art pieces hung on the walls and cactus plants graced each end table. The couch and matching chair were made of soft brown leather and a rather formidable television took up most of the entertainment center.

"Laura has the best taste when it comes to decorating," Peter sighed. "Let's go see the kitchen, shall we?"

"Is this where the washer and dryer are?" Crystal asked as they passed by a louvered door.

"Yes. Now look over here, Miss Sheridan. This is a chef's delight. Spice rack, lazy susan, and this stove has detachable burners that you can replace with a griddle or grill."

"I've never seen a stove do that," she admitted, looking at it carefully. One wall of the kitchen was nothing but glass with a sliding door that led to a comfortably-sized deck. Peter opened the door and led the way outside. A round white table with cushioned chairs took up one side while a gas grill sat on the other side.

"Those trees are mostly oak and maple," Peter said, pointing at the half-acre of trees that buffered the complex from the nearby lake. "They're very pretty in the fall when they change colors."

"Uh huh," Crystal replied disinterestedly as she stepped back inside.

"Well, I suppose there's nothing left to show you but the bedroom." He walked toward the stairs. "You'll absolutely adore the balcony." He put his foot on the first step and stopped when he realized that she wasn't following him. "Miss Sheridan?"

The stripper was still standing in the middle of the kitchen, nodding with approval. "Four-fifty plus half the utilities?"

This time Peter couldn't contain his excitement. He clapped his hands together and smiled broadly. "I'll just go get the paperwork out of the car."

"Wait a minute. Shouldn't I meet this Laura person before I make a decision?"

"Well…I suppose if you feel that's really necessary..." He picked up the black book next to the phone and began flipping through the pages. "I'm sure Miss Taylor is at her editor's. I'll just give her a little call."

But Laura wasn't with her editor. She wasn't at her brother's or mother's any of a dozen other places that Peter called. Crystal was getting more nervous as time passed. Peter had given her the rental application to fill out while she waited and with every question the stripper felt more nervous. She had fallen in love with the place and worried that the writer wouldn't approve of her. The townhouse was ten times better than her previous apartment. When Peter went outside to retrieve the papers, Crystal went upstairs and found the bedroom that she hoped would soon be hers. It was larger than she had imagined, with a good sized walk-in closet and a sliding glass door that led to the balcony shared with Laura's bedroom. Despite her apparent disinterest in the view, Crystal found herself looking forward to waking up to the sight of trees and sky. It would be a welcome change from the billboards and brick walls that had been the view from her old apartment.

Peter was about to give up when the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Peter?" Laura's voice sound far away. "What's going on? My mother said you've been looking for me."

"Where are you?"

"At a pay phone downtown. What's so important and why are you at my place?"

"I have the absolute best news for you. I found a roommate for you and she loves the place. How fast can you get home?"

"Home? Peter I can't come home right now. I have to meet Jenny for lunch and be at the school by three. Can't we do this tomorrow?"

"Actually she needs immediate occupancy. Her apartment burned down last night."

"I just can't get there." She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "Did you check all her references and get the deposit?"

"Yes, yes, everything's taken care of," he lied. "My dear, I guarantee she's perfect for you, I mean the perfect roommate for you."

"What about later tonight?"

"That'll be too late. She'll look elsewhere and who knows how long it'll be before I can find someone." Peter knew he was pushing his luck but he just had a feeling about the pairing. "Laura, trust me."

"No smoking, no drinking, no loud music, no…"

"None of that," he assured her, looking upstairs to make sure the blond woman wasn't within earshot. "I think you'd be surprised at how well you two will get along."

"Peter, I have to get going." She hesitated for a moment. "Are you sure she's what I'm looking for?"

"Positive," he replied enthusiastically.

Laura gave another sigh. "I guess I'll have to trust you on this," she said. "But if this doesn't work out…"

"It will, it will," he said quickly, hearing Crystal coming down the stairs. "That's just fabulous, Laura. I'll tell Miss Sheridan the good news." He hung up the phone before she could say anything else. I think Michael and I better go on that trip to the mountains soon.

"Were you able to reach her?"

"Not only was I able to reach her but I arranged everything. Laura said if I like you then it's fine. And if you can ask me any questions you have about her, since I've known her forever. If you'll follow me back to the office, we'll finish up the paperwork and I'll give you your key."

*************

It was after dark when Laura arrived home. The first thing she noticed was that the only room not lit up was her bedroom. Oh no, you're not going to be leaving every light in the house on, she thought to herself as she headed up the walkway.

Opening the front door, Laura found herself assaulted by the smell of cigarette smoke. A blonde woman was sitting on her couch, an ashtray with several butts and three empty beer cans lying on the coffee table next to her. "You must be Laura," the woman said as she rose to her feet.

"And you must be Crystal," the writer replied, holding her hand out. "I don't want to get off on the wrong foot or anything but didn't Peter go over the rules with you?"

"Rules?"

Laura brought her forefinger and thumb up and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I don't allow smoking."

"You're kidding." The stripper picked up her beer and took several swallows. "Mister Knight didn't say anything to me about smoking or rules."

"I'll kill him," Laura muttered, tossing her keys on the counter. "I'm sorry but that's just something I can't live with." She picked up the empty beer cans and walked over to the sink to rinse them out before putting them in a plastic bag to store them until they could be returned to the store for the deposit. "Well, it's not the end of the world. You can always go outside to smoke."

"This is going to be fun," Crystal grumbled. "I'll look for someplace else tomorrow." She drained her beer and picked up the newspaper. "Mind if I look through your paper?"

"Help yourself." Laura opened the refrigerator and peered inside. "Have you eaten yet? I have some leftover pasta salad…" She didn't see the gagging face Crystal made at the suggestion. "…tofu hot dogs or pizza."

"You a health nut?"

"I believe in eating food that doesn't destroy my body." She set the cardboard box on the counter. "The pizza's from Pizza Shed."

"I've had their stuff before," Crystal said, rising up from the couch and crossing over to the counter. "What's on it?"

"Not much, mushrooms, peppers, grass…" Laura teased, laughing at the grimace on the blonde woman's face. "Just kidding. Mushrooms and peppers, that's all." She opened the box and showed Crystal. "One or two?"

"Two, I'm starving." The stripper leaned her elbows on the counter and used her foot to hook the leg of the nearby bar stool. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." The writer wiped her hands on the dish towel. "Let's try this again. I'm Laura Taylor."

"Crystal Sheridan."

"So Crystal, Peter said something about a fire?" She put the slices on the rack and turned the oven on. At the blonde woman's nod she continued. "That's too bad. We had a fire when I was a kid. Were you there when it happened?"

"I was sleeping."

"You were lucky to survive."

Crystal grunted an unintelligible reply and reached for another beer. "You know where Humphrey Street is?"

"I think it's over by Union, why?"

"There's a one bedroom listed in the paper."

"Ugh, you wouldn't want anything on Humphrey."

"Gotta go where I can afford," Crystal said simply. "Look, if Mister Knight had said anything to me about smoking, I wouldn't have taken the place."

"It must have just been an oversight on Peter's part." And when I get my hands on him… She let the thought go unfinished. "We can work something out."

"Like what? I smoke and you don't want a smoker."

"So we compromise. You can smoke on the deck and balcony, just not indoors."

"You mean if I want a smoke in the morning I have to get dressed and go out on the deck?" Crystal shook her head. "I'll get one of those air filter things but I should be able to smoke in my bedroom if I want to."

"But nowhere else," Laura cautioned. "He did tell you half of all utilities and you pay for your own long distance calls."

"Don't worry. I'm not one for making lots of phone calls."

"So we'll give it a try and see how it goes." She shut the oven off and pointed at the far cupboard. "Would you please get the plates?"

Minutes later they were sitting at the breakfast nook, eating their pizza. Laura took a sip from her glass of water and glanced at the woman sitting across from her. Crystal was being extremely quiet, only the sound of newspaper rustling coming from her side of the counter. There was something vaguely familiar about the blonde to Laura but she couldn't figure it out. "So Crystal," she began, "I'm a writer. What do you do?"

"I'm…a dancer," she replied.

"Oh? Ballet?"

Crystal snorted and shrugged her shoulders. "Something like that." At that moment her beeper went off. Retrieving it from her waist, the stripper held it up and frowned at the familiar number on the display. "I need to use the phone."

"In the living room next to the couch," Laura said. When Crystal turned around, the writer was treated to the sight of tight-fitting jeans framing well-toned cheeks and thighs. It was then that she was able to figure out why the blonde woman looked so familiar. The stripper. Oh Peter, you are really in for it this time.

The call lasted only a few minutes but it was enough for Laura to finish her pizza and put her plate in the dishwasher. "I have some writing to do so I'll say good night now," she said as Crystal hung up the phone. "Please make sure all the lights are off and the doors are locked."

"Night."

Crystal watched as her new roommate went upstairs, leaving her alone for the evening. Retrieving her pizza and beer from the counter, she picked up the remote and settled down on the couch. She flicked through the channels while nibbling on her pizza, eventually settling on an inane comedy. The show failed to keep her interest and she was soon channel surfing again. "Fuck." The remote landed on the coffee table and the beer can was quickly emptied. A cigarette was lit without thought and only after several drags were taken did she remember Laura's rule. Cursing again, Crystal walked into the kitchen, picked the up last two cans of beer, and opened the sliding glass door.

Settling down into one of the white plastic chairs, the stripper put her feet on the railing and stared out at the night sky. What the hell am I doing here? I can't live with Miss Straight-Laced. She thew the cigarette away and opened a beer. Off in the distance an owl hooted its greeting to the other creatures of the darkness. Swallowing quickly, Crystal guzzled half the can before setting it back down. Good night to get drunk, she thought sourly. She decided that Laura must have had the door to the balcony open upstairs because she could hear the other woman typing away at the computer. Draining her beer, Crystal stood and went inside.

Laura heard the sliding glass door close, followed soon after by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Her door ajar, she saw the blonde woman walk past with a can of beer in her hand. Great, she's probably got a drinking problem. Sighing audibly, she shook her head and turned her attention back to her story. She typed a few sentences before the sound of furniture being moved about distracted her again. I'm not going to get any work done with all that noise. Pushing away from the computer, Laura stood and walked over to Crystal's room. "Do you need any help?" she asked through the closed door.

"No, I got it," came the reply.

"Okay, night then." She waited a few seconds for a reply before giving up and returning to her own room. Once inside, she shut the door and picked up the phone. Dialing the familiar number, Laura waited through several rings before the answering machine came on.

"Hi, this is Peter and Michael. We can't come to the phone right now, please leave a message…beep."

"Peter, this is Laura, I know you're home so pick up the phone." She waited a moment, then continued. "Fine. Call me when you get in. It's very important." She pressed the receiver down for a second, then released it and dialed another number. This time she was greeted with a pleasant voice.

"Hello?"

"Hi Jenny, it's Laura."

"Hi hon, what's up?"

"You busy?"

"No, not really, just watching TV. What's going on?"

Laura looked at the door. "I can't talk about it over the phone. Can I come over?"

"Is something wrong? Laura, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Jen, I just need to talk."

"Okay, come on over. I'll be here."

"Thanks, I'll see you in about fifteen minutes or so." Laura said her good-byes and hung up. She thought about letting Crystal know she was going out but decided against it. She'll figure it out when she hears the door close, she thought as she tied her sneakers and changed out of her T-shirt in favor of a light blue short sleeved one.

*********************

Laura pulled her Jeep into the driveway, smiling when she saw the outside light come on and Jenny open the front door. Their break-up two years before had been an amicable one and the two women enjoyed a closeness that only ex-lovers could share. Jenny was a therapist and as such always a safe place for Laura to go and get things off her chest. "I'm glad you were home. You wouldn't believe what's been going on," she said as she approached the door.

"What on earth happened between lunch and now?" Jenny asked as they entered the house.

"I'm going to kill Peter." She sat down on the couch, tucking one leg beneath her to face her ex-lover, who sat at the opposite end. "You won't believe what he did."

"I thought he found you a roommate?"

Laura snorted. "A roommate? A roommate from hell, maybe. She smokes and like to take beers into her bedroom at night."

"A smoker?" Jenny shook her head. "What was he thinking? Didn't you tell him that you needed a non-smoker?"

"Of course I did. I gave him an explicit list of rules." She ran her fingers through her dark hair and sighed. "She's a stripper."

"A stripper? You mean a take-it-all-off, money-down-the-crotch stripper?"

"Exactly," Laura said.

"And this is what you're so upset about?"

"This just isn't going to work out."

"And you know this from one day?"

"Don't you start that psychology stuff with me, Jen," the writer warned. "It only took a few minutes, actually." She reached over and put her hand on Jenny's knee, an old, familiar gesture between the ex-lovers. "She never says please and it's like pulling teeth to get a thank you out of her."

"So she's not little Miss Manners. Does she know you're gay?"

Laura shook her head. "I don't think so unless Peter told her."

"So does this roommate from hell have a name?"

"Crystal."

"Well, look on the bright side. If Crystal is a stripper, maybe she'll give you a private show." Jenny's teasing earned her a playful swat on the thigh.

"Don't you start. It's been too long."

"For me too," the therapist agreed, letting her fingertips lightly brush over Laura's forearm.

"You know there's no law that says that ex's can't sleep together once in a while."

"True," Jenny agreed. "But do you really think it's such a good idea?"

"Oh, I think it's a splendid idea," Laura said huskily, scooting forward on the couch until her lips were near her ex-lover's ear. "Consider it rekindling old memories."

"Consider it you're horny, you mean," Jenny replied.

"Well, lack of sex was never a problem in our relationship, if I remember correctly." The writer continued to press for her side of the argument by nibbling Jenny's earlobe. Her voice took on a smoky timber. "How about sharing your bed with me tonight, hmm?"

"Damn, I hate when you talk to me in that tone of voice," Jenny replied, arching into the wandering lips.

"Yeah, I can tell," she murmured, moving her fingers down to undo the buttons of Jenny's shirt. Soon the two halves separated, revealing creamy white skin, her breasts too small to bother with a bra. Laura pressed her down on the couch and began running her lips along the exposed collarbone. She felt Jenny's fingers sink into her hair and guide her lower. "A bit eager, Jen?"

"Stop teasing me…oh!" Whatever else the therapist might have wanted to say was lost when soft lips closed around her nipple and began suckling.

Laura moaned against the breast she was playing with and pressed her hip against the body squirming beneath her. "I miss this," she murmured, kissing her way across Jenny's chest to lick and kiss the other nipple. Feeling a tugging on her shirt, she sat up and stilled the therapists wandering hands.

"You're not gonna fold it, are you?"

Laura stopped unbuttoning her shirt and looked down at her ex-lover. "You know I don't like wrinkles." Removing the shirt, she folded it neatly and set it down on the coffee table. The bra came next, the cups folded one within the other. Jenny tugged her own top off and let it go sailing across the room.

"You know I hate that," Laura said, looking pointedly at the rumpled shirt.

"And I hate the way you have to fold everything." Jenny let her fingers comb through Laura's black hair.

"I am a bit neurotic about that, aren't I?" She leaned down and let their lips brush together. "How did you ever put up with me?"

"Well, you could have worse faults than being an obsessive compulsive."

"Is that like being anal retentive?" the writer teased as she pressed her thigh between Jenny's legs, pleased with the resulting moan. She planted kisses along the therapist's jaw until her lips found an ear framed by soft brown hair. "I think we can find something better to do than bring up each other's faults, don't you, my little analyst?" Laura flexed her thigh muscles to further her point.

"Y-yes, I think we can," Jenny agreed, her breath coming in short pants. "Don't tease me."

"I thought you liked being teased." Laura grinned devilishly before lowering her lips to her ex-lover's breast. "And teased and teased…"

**************************

Crystal whimpered and thrashed about in her bed for several minutes before the nightmare became too great to bear and she scared herself awake. Heart pounding, she looked around in the darkness, momentarily confused by the unfamiliar surroundings. The red numbers of the alarm clock glared at her, taunting her with the later hour. Fuck, not tonight, she silently pleaded as sleep continued to elude her. Frustrated, she sat up and reached for her cigarettes and lighter. Seconds later the bluish gray smoke swirled around her head. It's just because it's my first night in a new place, she told herself. The thought failed to give Crystal any comfort and she found herself turning on the lamp, letting the pale yellow light cast away the shadows and help dissipate some of her fear. She looked at the clock again. Guess Laura isn't coming back tonight. Setting her cigarette in the ashtray, she opened the drawer of her night stand. A small metal pipe and film canister were removed along with an incense cone and holder. After making sure the incense was lit, Crystal filled the pipe with the marijuana hidden in the film canister. The urge to numb out her feelings was too strong to resist. As her body finally relaxed under the pot's influence, the images from her nightmare eased in their intensity. Her vision blurred and she wiped her the back of her hand angrily across her eyes as the tears began to fall.

It had been almost two months since she last had a nightmare and there had been a tiny sliver of hope that they were gone forever. Should've fucking known, she thought sourly as she repacked her pipe. The bad dreams…and the memories that caused them, had been with her for over twelve years now and Crystal feared they would never leave her. The drug kicked in hard after her third bowl and when sleep finally reclaimed the stripper, it was without the nightmares.

********************

Laura arrived home the next morning to find Crystal sitting on the deck, smoking a cigarette and reading the morning paper. "Good morning."

"Morning," the stripper replied, setting the paper on the table.

Laura frowned at the haphazard way the sections of the newspaper were stacked. Doesn't anyone believe in putting things back the way they were? she silently mused. "Are you done with this?"

"Yeah." Crystal took a long drag of her cigarette and flicked the butt over the railing. "Hey, you mind if I get a new shower curtain? I don't like the one you have."

"Um…sure." Laura shrugged her shoulders. "That one's only a few months old."

"Yeah but I can't stand all those frilly flowers and stuff." The stripper stood up and tucked her cigarette pack into the pocket of her jeans. "I'll pick one up this afternoon on my way to work."

Looking at the bust straining against the cotton shirt, Laura flushed at the memory of Crystal swaying her breasts for the crowd at the Tom Cat Club. "So where is it that you work at?" she asked, hoping to start something resembling a conversation between the two of them.

"Downtown," Crystal replied, swallowing down the rest of her coffee.

Laura let the deliberate evasion slide, sensing that the topic was not a comfortable one for the younger woman. "I'm picking up tacos tonight for dinner. Would you like me to pick some up for you as well?"

"Naw, I don't do rabbit food." Crystal glanced at her watch. "Gotta go."

"Well, have a good day." Laura received a noncommittal grunt in reply as the stripper walked past her and into the townhouse. I can't believe I agreed to this, she thought to herself. Her eyes fell upon the mess on the table. Crystal had left behind her coffee mug, a small plate filled with crumbs, a bunched up paper towel, and the disorganized newspaper. Unable to leave a mess, Laura took the dishes to the dishwasher and straightened out the newspaper. When she poured herself a cup of coffee, she spotted a ring on the kitchen counter. You can't take the dishrag and wipe down the counter? Laura muttered curses for several minutes while cleaning up the counters and stove. When her task was finished, she picked up the phone and called Peter's office only to find that he had taken the day off. She called his house.

"Hi, this is Peter and Michael. We can't come to phone right now, please leave a message…beep."

"Peter, where are you? Call me when you get in." Unable to vent on the one person she wanted to, Laura dialed the number to Jenny's office.

"You're lucky Mrs. Cranston cancelled," Jenny said when Laura walked into her office. "I've got forty minutes before my next appointment. What's up? Still having problems with the roommate from hell?"

"She's driving me nuts, Jen. The woman doesn't know the meaning of cleaning up after herself." Laura flopped down on the couch and sighed. "She messed up my paper and I swear she's allergic to putting dirty dishes in the dishwasher."

Jenny nodded, familiar with her ex-lover's obsession with cleaning. "Is she really a slob or is she just not as neat as you are?"

"I'm not asking her to mop the floor every day," the writer defended. "But would it kill her to wipe down the counter? You should have seen the bathroom." Not giving Jenny a chance to interrupt, she continued. "Do you think she could have draped her towel over the shower rod to dry? No, of course not. She left it bunched up on top of the hamper. Not that there was any room on the rod to put the towel."

Jenny closed her eyes, not really wanting to ask. "What was on the rod?"

"Panties, if you can call a little triangle and dental floss panties. How can she be comfortable with that thing stuck up between her cheeks like that anyway?"

"I don't think those are designed for comfort, Laura. They're probably for her job."

"I don't care, they don't need to be hanging off the shower rod."

"Would you prefer she put up a clothesline and hang them from there? Obviously they aren't the kind that should be put in a dryer. Not everyone wears sensible white cotton panties," Jenny reasoned. Laura frowned at the obvious logic in the therapist's words.

"Well she can't leave them there," she said finally, her agitation deflated somewhat.

"Then suggest someplace else she can hang them. So she doesn't pick up after herself and hangs her wet clothes over the shower curtain. What other horrible things does she do?"

"You think I'm being unreasonable, don't you?"

"You're not unreasonable, Laura. You have some valid points, especially about Crystal picking up after herself. However, you have to be a bit flexible here, too. She does pay half the bills now. You can't have complete control over the place anymore."

"I'm going to kill Peter when I find him, you know."

"I know," Jenny said, knowing full well it was an empty threat. Peter and Laura had been friends since high school and there was little, if anything, that one could do to the other that wouldn't be forgiven. "So you're not going to bitch at her about the undies in the bathroom."

Laura sighed in resignation. "Fine, but she has to be more responsible about picking things up around the place. I'm not going to be her personal maid."

"Is she going to be there tomorrow night?"

"I don't know," Laura shrugged. "I hadn't thought about it. I think she's working."

"You might want to check that out before everyone arrives." Jenny smirked. "Or at least you should warn her about your mother."

Laura rolled her eyes and groaned. "Now there's a meeting I'd rather not witness. Can you imagine if my mother found out she's a stripper?"

"She'd flip…probably worse than when she found out about us," Jenny said. "Speaking of which, does she know I'm coming?"

"No. I thought I'd surprise her with your presence. You know what a special place you have in her heart."

Jenny gave a derisive snort. "Don't get me started, Laura. I try very hard to remember that your mother is just set in her ways and nothing will change the way she thinks. I'm only going because Bobby expects me to be there."

"What'd you get him, anyway?"

Jenny smiled. "You know those speakers for his stereo system that he wanted for his car? I thought that'd make a great graduation gift."

Laura's eyes widened. "You're kidding. That had to have cost well over two hundred dollars."

"Two eighty-seven and change, actually." Jenny shrugged her shoulders. "What can I say? I told him if he aced his Physics exams I would get him something special."

"No wonder he studied so hard. Mom and I both told him flat out no to the speakers."

"Well, your mother did get him that computer and printer."

"And I got him the programs he needed so he should be all set."

"Except for his internet access, his email address, and an unlimited supply of single college aged girls from all over the country," Jenny added.

"I don't think he'll have to look far for a girlfriend, Jen. He already has girls calling Mom's place a dozen times a night looking for him."

"I told you, didn't I? When he was thirteen and his eyebrows started to darken, didn't I tell you then that the girls would be all over him?" The therapist smiled smugly. "There's just something about you Taylor's that women can't resist."

. "Yeah? Then why am I single?" Laura asked with a smile.

"Because Ms. Right hasn't come along yet. Who knows? Maybe you and Crystal…"

"Don't even think about it," the writer warned. A quick knock on the door was followed by Jenny's secretary opening the door and poking her head inside.

"Miss Foster? Your eleven o'clock is in the waiting area and appears quite upset."

"Really?" Jenny raised her eyebrows in surprise. A quick glance at her watch revealed that her client had arrived a full half-hour before their usual appointment time. The therapist smiled apologetically at Laura. "I think we'd better stop now. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Okay hon." They shared a quick hug and kiss before Jenny escorted Laura out of her office and the teary-eyed Mrs. Duncan in.

********************

Laura was sitting in front of the computer, cleaning up the ever-growing pile of unanswered email when she heard the key in the downstairs' lock. A quick glance at the clock on the lower corner of the screen alerted her to the time, a few minutes shy of midnight. She left her room and headed down the stairs, entering the kitchen in time to see Crystal remove a can of beer from the refrigerator. Do you drink anything else? she wondered to herself before speaking. "Ahem…" She waited until the stripper turned to face her before continuing. "Are you working tomorrow evening?"

The blonde woman opened her can and took several swallows before answering. "No. Why? You need me to split for the night or somethin'?"

"My little brother is graduating from high school with honors and we're having dinner for him over here tomorrow night." In the back of Laura's mind, her mother's strict rules about following proper etiquette fought with her desire to not have her family meet her new roommate. In the end, the long-instilled training from her mother won out. "You're welcome to come, of course. It isn't anything fancy, just him, my mother and Jenny. I don't know if Peter and Michael will be here or not. I haven't been able to reach him lately." Laura made a mental note to try calling them again.

"Don't worry about it," Crystal waved her hand dismissively. The can went to her lips again for several more swallows. "I'm not into family get-togethers anyway. I'll make myself scarce." She turned and opened the refrigerator, pulling out the remaining three cans. "Shit," she cursed softly, only now remembering she meant to stop on the way home and pick up more beer. She thought about the small baggie in her pocket and resigned herself to making the three beers last for the night. She brushed past Laura and headed up the stairs, shutting herself in her room without another word to the writer.

Laura checked the locks before shutting off the downstairs lights and returning to her room. Peeved at the way Crystal ignored her, she found herself too keyed up to go to sleep. Sitting in front of the computer once again, Laura closed the email program and brought up her word processor. A few seconds later and her newest story appeared on the screen. Resting her finger on the Page Down button, she watched her words flash past her until she reached the bottom. Lacing her fingers together, she cracked her knuckles and reached for the keyboard. She reread the last few sentences to familiarize herself with what was happening within the story and began typing.

Less than ten minutes later Laura found herself lifting the hair off the back of her neck and groaning. I hope there's a nice breeze tonight. After making sure there were no loose papers that could fly about, she crossed over to the sliding glass door and opened it. A full length screen kept the insects out but let what turned out to be a wonderfully gentle breeze in. The scent of a nearby lilac bush caught her nose along with something else.

Laura stepped closer to the doorway and sniffed again. Oh great, a druggie. Moving to the inner door, she opened it and crossed the landing to knock on Crystal's door.

"What?" came the annoyed voice.

"We need to talk," the writer replied. She heard the sounds of drawers opening and closing before Crystal came to the door. It opened to reveal the stripper dressed in a pair of sweats and a faded cotton tee. The odor of marijuana was all around the young woman and Laura's nose crinkled in disgust. Crystal's eyes were mere slits, looking extremely tired were it not for the goofy smirk on her face. "You can't be doing this here," she said firmly.

"What I do in my room is my own fucking business. I'm not a drug addict and I'm not a dealer."

"It's still illegal," Laura pointed out. "The police…"

"The police won't care about the little amount I have," Crystal cut off the older woman. "Jeez Laura, you're so fucking uptight maybe you should take a few hits. You know, help calm you down a little?" Make you less of a pain in the ass.

"No, thank you. I don't believe in clouding my brain with illegal drugs."

"Naw, it's just okay to fuck it up with alcohol, right?" The stripper shook her head. "Fucking hypocrite," she mumbled as she shut the door.

Laura stood there in shock, not believing what she had heard. I'm uptight? Just because I don't want to do drugs? "Alcohol is different, Crystal," she yelled loud enough to be heard through the closed door.

"Whatever," came the reply. "If the smell bothers you I'll light an incense, okay?"

"Why do you think that hiding something makes it all right?" Laura asked.

"What makes you think I care what you think?" Crystal snapped. "I told you…I'll light a fucking stick if the smell bothers you. Other than that, deal with it." Laura heard the sound of a drawer opening followed soon after by the flick of a lighter. Grunting in frustration, the writer returned to her room, shutting the door with a resounding bang.

Laura shut down the computer, deciding she was too aggravated to give writing a serious try and not feeling like working on her email. Once the computer was shut off and the dust covers in place, she crossed over to the sliding glass door, preparing to shut it for the night. She caught a whiff of burning incense and frowned. Peter, I'm going to kill you, she silently vowed as she slid the door closed.

Across the hall, Crystal sat on her bed, her eyes staring at the worn photograph in her hand. It showed two small girls standing in front of an old mobile home. Where are you, Patty? she asked silently, her finger running over the familiar picture. I could really use you now. She emptied another beer and reached for her pipe. Letting the photo rest on her lap, Crystal held the pipe in one hand and her lighter in the other. She inhaled deeply, pulling as much smoke as she could hold into her lungs. Only when she felt as though she would burst did she slowly let the smoke out, her head already feeling the effects of the deep hit. Putting the lighter and pipe on the nightstand, Crystal laid her head back on the pillows and stared up at the stucco ceiling. Images of childhood played in her head…two sisters, hair blonder than the sun, bicycling through the trailer park, laughing and enjoying a warm summer day. As it always did, a darker memory surfaced. Crystal angrily sat up and reached for her pipe. No fucking way I'm going through this tonight, she vowed, lighting up the marijuana and sucking as hard as she could. She recognized the feelings for what they were and desperately wanted to avoid having any nightmares tonight. The pot made that possible, taking her to a place where her father's anger and violence couldn't reach, where nothing mattered except the temporary peace offered by the weed. But some nights the memories refused to be numbed out by the drugs and this night proved to be one of them.

Lying in bed, fourteen year old Crystal listened to the muffled sobs coming through the wall separating her room from the one her older sister slept in. She cried at the helplessness she felt, the inability to help Patty. She had tried twice to protect her sister from their father and both times earned a beating so severe that it kept her home from school for days. The last time had been less than a week ago and her eye still bore the bruising from his fist. Patty's cries became more frequent, intermixed with her father's carnal grunts. Crystal buried her head in her pillow and cried even harder, sharing the pain her sister was going through and fearing that this would be the night her father stopped at her door.

Crystal's father remained quiet during the ride home but his dark eyes constantly flicked from the road to the rear view mirror where he leveled deadly glares at his youngest child. The fourteen year old tried desperately not to cry in front of the man who saw tears as a weakness but she was absolutely terrified of what he would do to her once they returned home.

Crystal thrashed about, mumbling incoherently as the line between dreams and reality blurred. "No…no Daddy, please stop. I'll be good…" The words gave way to whimpers as she relived the nightmare of that morning eleven years ago. "No Daddy, please…No!" With a final cry, she scared herself awake. It was several seconds before she realized where she was. "Shit." She fumbled about in the dark for the lamp, then for her cigarettes. She no sooner lit one than she heard a quiet knocking on her bedroom door.

"You okay?"

"Fine, Laura. Just a nightmare."

"You sure?"

"I said I'm fine," Crystal replied testily. She looked at the clock and sighed. It was too late to go to a bar and the stores weren't allowed to sell beer after midnight. "Sorry to wake you." She reached for her incense and put a fresh stick on the holder.

"Um…Crystal?"

"What?"

"If you need to talk…"

"Yeah, thanks but I'm all set. Good night." Now go away and leave me alone.

Laura hesitated for a moment before answering. "Good night then." She returned to her room, her mind replaying what she had heard. She opened the sliding glass door and within seconds the smell of incense floated through the air. Intending to close the door, the writer reached for the handle only to pause and withdraw her hand. Doesn't smell that bad, she thought as she sniffed the air again. Like cherries. She knew that the incense was covering up the smell of pot but decided to let it go for the night. She heard the terror in Crystal's cries and had no doubt the young woman was shook up, despite words to the contrary.

******************

Continued in Part 2

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Crystal's Heart © 1999-2001 B L Miller.  Do not reproduce or place on another site without permission.

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