Three's a Crowd

Ch.1
Small hands rested casually on her stomach as she stood over the gleaming sink, a stack of sparkling dishes set to the side, drying calmly. The arms that had snaked their way around her waist squeezed tighter and the brown-haired girl could feel a familiar, rather short, body press up against her back.
Missy shivered as a cold nose brushed against her neck, followed by an irritatingly quick kiss placed on the nape of her neck. The hands on her stomach rose higher, frozen fingertips sliding along her pale skin as they pushed the black, cotton t-shirt up further. A chin rested on her left shoulder and she could feel the ends of pin straight, red hair brushing the skin left bare by the short collar of the top she had chosen that morning.
“Missy, how much do you love me?” a familiar voice whispered, the heat from the breath following each syllable causing a tingle to run through her ear. The daring fingers now toying with the black lace covering the bra she was wearing, and now feeling rather confined in.
“Too much for my own good,” came the response, muffled by the lip she was holding tightly between her teeth, making speaking rather difficult. She knew exactly what that sentence meant, but she was feeling far to good at that moment to deny any possibility of having those hands, or better yet, those lips she knew all too well resting on her flesh.
“Good, can you do me a favor then?” the peppy, female voice chirped. Missy turned with a groan in Alanna's arms, resting her own loosely on the shoulders of her room mate, staring down into the smiling emerald eyes that always seemed to get their way. The red head smiled in that overly adorable fashion and tilted her pretty little head to the side.
“What is it?”she sighed. Missy wasn't stupid, oblivious at times, needy, jealous, a lot of things, but not stupid. She knew better than to commit to something without understanding the situation. Leaning forward she rested her forehead against that of Alanna and closed her blueish gray eyes, awaiting the details of the request.
“Can you pick up a 2 L bottle of diet Coke on your way back from your dance class? Pretty please? You said you loved me,” the pleading was all too much in that sweet, high-pitched voice.
“Baton class, and yes, I suppose,” she replied softly, releasing herself from the grip that was now in the form of tiny hands resting on her hips, thumbs hooked unto the belt loops of her faded blue jeans. Turning back to the task she had started earlier Missy shook her head and proceeded to put the dishes in their proper places amongst the cabinets.
“Thank you,” the sing song voice chirped as Alanna reached up, grabbed her juniors chin, and turned her head sharply to steal a quick peck on the lips. Giggling she slid her hand down the pierced face before pulling off completely.
“yeah yeah,” the dish girl sighed and watched as her assailant wandered off towards the front door of the apartment. It was only now that Missy's mind was clear enough to notice that her partner was clad in gray jogging pants and a lose green tank top, with a pair of white runners to complete the ensemble. Not only did this outfit not do the womans figure justice at all, it meant she was going out herself. At that very moment, as Alanna picked up a small gym bag they both knew had weights in it, she knew the girl was off to her aerobics class.
“Wait, why can't you get it? You're going out anyways,” Missy inquired, giving stern look in the direction of the door, resting her left hand against her hip, rapping the nails of the other along the wooden counter top.
“Because you said you would. Why would I waist time, money, and energy when I can get you to do it?” she responded with a giggle. Again Missy shook her head in disbelief.
“Tease,” she muttered, again, turning back to put the last few dishes away. Alanna laughed and had one foot out the door but paused and yelled back, grabbing her keys from the bowl resting on the hall table.
“You love me for it,” were the last words of the conversation before the door closed and the hazel eyed girl was gone for at least an hour.
Rolling her eyes Missy grabbed for the dish towel draped over the silver tap, drying her hands which now smelled of the terrible grapefruit dish soap that everyone she knew insisted on buying. Scowling at the smell she stuck her tongue out between her pierced lips a moment, laughed at her own childish ways and went to the living room to find the hand lotion that had a much better scent.
The cool, spring air drifting in through the open window hot her stomach and sides as she stretched her arms above her head, momentarily revealing herself of the tension that had built up over the course of the day. Again her top was riding up her stomach a bit, leaving her mid drift exposed. Mid yawn her stormy orbs fell on the clock that hung on the wall opposite the black, leather couch that sat in the middle of the room.
“Damn it!” resonated through the empty air as the numbers screamed 6:30 pm. Having no time to change into more appropriate, not to mention comfortable, attire Missy ran around the apartment frantically, not really heading anywhere in particular for the first few minutes as, what would be her lateness, had caught her off guard. Upon gaining full consciousness she flicked off the kitchen light on her way to the front hall.
Digging through the closet that sat against the wall near the door, next to the small side table, she recovered her baton from a pile of mix-matched shoes scattered on the floor within the wardrobe. Holding the silver piece of metal above her head in triumph, and leaving the door to the closet open, Missy slipped her feet into the matched shoes kept by the door, shifting from foot to foot until her feet felt comfortable.
Grabbing her keys and wallet, which she would have liked to leave behind but needed for both transit and the diet Coke she had promised, she slipped out the front door. Locking it behind her she took off down the hall, towards the stairs.


Practice seemed to have lasted for ever and a day. The kiss on the neck had lingered in the back of her mind, and having been around young women in tight clothes had only added to the building sexual frustration.
Sighing, Missy stepped up to the door of the apartment, climbing the stairs had been an effort and she now found herself juggling a bottle of pop and her baton whilst she fumbled around with her keys. The lock was stuck again, and she just didn't have the patience to fight with the sticking door at that moment. Even worse was the sounds of laughter and talking emitting from the other side of the door. Leaving the keys in the lock she lifted a fist to the door, rapping three or four times on the wood.
“Let me in,” she called through the door once she came to the conclusion that no one was going to let her inside. Again, she pounded on the door and this time it was opened by the grinning, blushing Alanna.