Stormbound - pt 7 - by Gun Brooke

Izzy regarded the filled tub with something in between envy and dread. Envy, because her body ached after the physical exertion when they hid Tiffany's crashed car, dread because the small basin was already occupied by a gloriously naked blonde. Tiffany ran the foamy sponge along her shoulders, arms and chest with a blissful smile.

“Oh, Izzy, this is wonderful. Your bath products are heaven sent.”

“Thank you,” Izzy muttered through gritted teeth. “May I have some more of the vanilla scrub please? Seems like the mud really fused with my skin,” Tiffany said, interrupting Izzy's thoughts.

“Sure.” Izzy handed Tiffany the jar, trying her best not to peer at her breasts that were half visible above the water. Shivering, Izzy busied herself by carrying Tiffany's dirty clothes to the hamper. They had postponed the trip to Farlow's Creek until the next day, and she intended to use the small Laundromat there then, which was a good thing since her normally modest pile was overflowing by now.

“I'll be done in a few minutes so you can jump in. I know you're aching too.” Tiffany looked seriously at Izzy when she returned to the kitchen. “It wasn't fair that you made me go first. You worked much harder.”

“Debatable. You're not used to that type of work, I don't think.”

“Hey, you make me sound like I'm fragile or something!” Tiffany pouted.

Exactly. Izzy realized she did see Tiffany as fragile, and maybe wrongfully so. She had kept working by Izzy’s side the whole time, and doing that the day after have suffered through a major car crash was no small feat.

“No, not fragile,” Izzy said slowly. “Just a bit banged up after yesterday. You did very well out there today. I'm impressed, actually.”

“I didn't do anything particular, except perhaps getting the hang of that screwdriver. The only screwdriver I've ever come close to before has been the liquid one. Not that I'm all that fond of alcohol,” Tiffany added seriously, “it makes me so giggly and talkative. I tend to just go on and on.”

“Really?” Izzy couldn't help but tease Tiffany and raised her eyebrows sardonically. “It can get worse?”

“Oh, you!” Tiffany laughed and tossed the drenched sponge at Izzy, taking her by surprise as it hit her smack in the center of her chest before falling to the floor.

Izzy stared open-mouthed at Tiffany and then down at the sponge. “I can't believe you did that.” She laughed, but stopped when she looked up at Tiffany again, seeing how she'd become completely serious. Tiffany was staring at her chest, her eyes a dark, dark blue. Izzy followed her gaze and saw that her white t-shirt was now transparent and her dark nipples poked the fabric, clearly visible. “Oh.” Izzy didn't know what to do. She didn't want to cover up like a prude old maid, and yet she felt so vulnerable being exposed like this.

“Oh, my goodness, Izzy. I'm sorry.” Tiffany looked upset and Izzy forgot about her own awkwardness.

“Hey, it's okay.” Izzy shrugged. “Just us girls here. Right?”

“Right...” Tiffany spoke with a slow, uncertain tone, but she smiled again. “I should go up.” She grabbed the edges of the tub and began to push herself up, only to flinch and sit down with a splash. “Ow!”

“What's wrong?” Izzy hurried to Tiffany's side and knelt nest to the tub, not bothered by the fact that water on the floor soaked her pants. “What did you do?”

“I...I think I got a cramp in my...ow...right side.” Tiffany squeezed her eyes shut. “Ow. That really hurts.”

“Let me.” Not thinking about anything else but to soothe Tiffany's pain, Izzy pushed her hands into the bathwater and felt along her side. Soft, smooth skin over knotted muscles explained why it hurt. “Your muscles are spasming, Tiff. I'll massage them if you raise your arm over your head.” Izzy gently moved Tiffany's right arm up and angled it over her head. This way she stretched the offending muscles while Izzy ran her thumbs along them, working the knots.

“Oh, yowsa. That's painful, Izzy.” Tiffany sounded tearful and Izzy knew it would feel very sore before it felt better.

“Just hang in there. It's relaxing. I can feel it.” Over and over, Izzy pushed at the knots, smoothing them as if she was spreading cream on a cake. “There we go. Feel that?”

“Yes. Oh, my. Yes.” Tiffany slowly lowered her arm, slumping to the side, toward Izzy. “I know I'm not supposed to say thank you. But anyway.”

“Anyway.”

“Maybe I am fragile?” Tiffany sounded gloomy.

“No. You're not. You're tough and resilient. Don't ever let anyone tell you different.” Izzy helped Tiffany up, wrapping her in a big bath towel. “Curl up by the stove. I pulled the rocking chair right up to it.”

“Are you going to bathe now? You're limping.” Tiffany looked worriedly at Izzy.

“Yes. I'll just add some hot water to yours, that way I don't have to wait.” Izzy was acutely aware that Tiffany had a full view of both her and the tub. She wasn't shy, but she was self-conscious about the scars and the thought of seeing distaste in Tiffany's eyes made her cringe.

“Well, the water's pretty clean still. Most of the mud was on my clothes and shoes.” Tiffany shrugged and curled up in the rocking chair. She looked adorable with the long, blond hair curling around her shoulders.

“Same here.” Izzy poured another big pot of boiling water into the tub and tested the temperature. Hot, but not too hot, she decided and knew she couldn't put off removing her clothes any longer. Tiffany would think her behavior more than strange if she got in with her clothes on, Izzy thought ironically. She stepped out of her pants and pushed her socks off, mindful to keep her left leg out of sight as much as possible. One of her scars started at her waist and stretched in a jagged line down to her mid thigh. The second scar wrapped around half her midsection, and she knew it was partly visible to Tiffany. The good thing was that it wasn't as red or jagged. The third scar went from her upper left arm, rounded her shoulder and went down to her right breast where it almost met her nipple. Then there were the multitude of tiny scars which marred her the entire left side of her torso. Quickly, Izzy stepped into the tub and sat down. The hot water stung, she moaned both in bliss and in agony and closed her eyes.

“Izzy? Everything all right?” Tiffany asked.

“I'm fine.”

“I saw your scars.”

“Tiff...” Izzy's eyes snapped open.

“You said I could ask whatever I wanted once we got back here.” Tiffany looked like an angel where she sat in the rocking chair, wrapped in the off-white wool blanket.

“I did, didn't I?” What was I thinking?

“Do they hurt? The scars?”

“Sometimes.”

“Were you in an accident?” Tiffany's voice was low, and oddly unobtrusive.

“Yes. Sort of.”

“Oh, my goodness. Did somebody hurt you? I mean, intentionally?”

“You could say that.” Treacherous tears began to run down Izzy's cheeks. She could hardly believe it. Four months since she came out of rehab, and she hadn't cried once since then. Until now.

“Izzy!” Small feet padded up to the tub and it was Tiffany's turn to kneel in the spilled water. She held the towel around her with one hand, the other cupped Izzy's unscarred cheek. “Don't cry. Please. I won't ask any more questions.”

“It's okay, Tiff. It really is.” Izzy drew a trembling breath. “It's just...I haven't really allowed myself to, you know, feel too much.”

“I can understand that. You were here all alone. It's scary to examine your own feelings when you don't have anyone to talk to.” Tiffany leaned forward and pressed her forehead against Izzy's temple. “I'm here. I want to listen to you. I want to know.”

To Izzy, Tiffany's simple words were profound. Nobody had ever said anything like that to her. People generally were more inclined to want to talk about themselves, rather than offering to listen to you. Most had no interests in talking about the war at all. Usually that suited Izzy just fine, since she wasn't the sharing type.

Tiffany's breath on Izzy's cheek dried her tears and Izzy swallowed hard to get control of her emotions. “I was wounded when my convoy came under attack,” she heard herself say. “ The insurgents had planted an IED, and well, let's just say, it wasn't a good day."

“IED?”

"Improvised explosive device."

Tiffany pulled back a little and looked into Izzy's eyes. “You're a soldier?”

“I was.”

“Iraq? Or Afghanistan?”

“Iraq. Baghdad.” Izzy could suddenly feel the scorching heat, the typical smells of the country she'd spent two tours of duty in, filled her nostrils. "My platoon was responsible for security. We were escorting a supply convoy along Route Irish. An IED took out the one of our vehicles and we ended up in the middle of a fire fight. We had broken through the kill zone and were circling back to provide cover. Next thing I knew there was a second explosion. The vehicle in front of me...it was gone. The debris hit my Humvee. That's the last thing I remember. The next thing I knew I was on a flight to Germany.

“I'm so sorry.” Tiffany leaned forward again and this time she pressed her soft lips to Izzy's temple. “That must've been scary.”

“Not any worse than having to flee for your life across the country.” Izzy could hardly breathe at the touch of Tiffany's lips. “I was messed up pretty bad but I survived. I'm still not entirely recovered.” I may never recover completely. Izzy shuddered.

"Why in the world did you push yourself so hard today?"

"I wanted to make sure you'd be safe. Honest Tiffany, I'm no worse for wear. I'm just a bit sore"

“Here. You've done such a good job of looking after me, the least I can do is scrub your back.” Tiffany didn't notice Izzy's shocked expression. Instead she opened the body scrub and took a handful. “How's the skin on your back? Hurt anywhere?”

“Uhm. No. No scars on my back.” Izzy was terrified.

“Lean forward.” Tiffany looked expectantly at her.

Izzy wanted to object, but it was impossible to even consider disappointing Tiffany. She leaned forward and soon Tiffany rubbed the body-scrub all over her back. Izzy moaned out loud before she could stop herself, and the pleasure was beyond incredible. Her sore muscles relaxed and it felt wonderful against her skin. Izzy tried to remember if anybody had ever touched her in this manner but failed. All she could do was to rest her cheek against her pulled up knees, and close her eyes. “You shouldn't be on your knees on the floor,” Izzy murmured.

“That's all right. I'm using your t-shirt as a pillow, sort of. Don't worry. I'm enjoying this,” Tiffany said merrily, though she sounded a bit breathless too. She kept rubbing Izzy's back, adding more of the body-scrub as she worked her way farther down. Izzy became a bit nervous at just how far Tiffany would scrub. The towel had fallen down around Tiffany's shoulders and Izzy could see the top of her full breasts. Feeling guilty at spying on Tiffany, Izzy could still not avert her eyes, and she wondered how much of her own body Tiffany could see in the soapy water.

Suddenly it was obvious that Tiffany had reached a little too far down Izzy's back. Izzy gasped and lifted her head. Tiffany yanked her hand up and looked wide-eyed at Izzy.

“Eh, thank you, that's enough. I mean, that's good.” Izzy nearly stuttered.

“I'm sorry...I didn't mean to...” Tiffany wet her lips with the tip of her tongue, which in turn made Izzy mimic her movement.

“I feel pretty clean now. I should get up.” Izzy couldn't bear to be so close to Tiffany when both of them were naked.

“Oh. Good. I'll help you. Don't want you to get a cramp too.” Tiffany rose, nearly dropping her towel completely. “Whoopsie.”

Whoopsie, indeed. Izzy rolled her eyes. She wasn't going to stand up with Tiffany only a few inches away. “I can manage, thank you.”

“Now who's thanking whom every other second?” Tiffany wiggled her finger at Izzy before reaching for the second bath towel. “Here. Come on now.”

Unable to find one single useful argument why she shouldn't, Izzy sighed inwardly and rose. Tiffany had tucked her own towel under her arms and tied it firmly and now she was holding up the towel, ready to give it to Izzy. Izzy managed to quickly wrap it around her chest and hips, but the ugly scar on her shoulder was in plain view.

“Izzy.” Tiffany stared at the puckered, wrinkled skin, red in some parts, white in some. Before Izzy could stop her she raised her arm and placed it around Izzy's back. She pulled Izzy closer and gently kissed the scarred tissue on her shoulder.

“Tiff. Don't. It's ugly.” Izzy trembled and knew her legs would give in any second.

“Step out of the tub before you fall.”

God damn it, she can read thoughts?

Tiffany kept her arm around Izzy's back, looking up at her with her porcelain blue eyes. Izzy saw nothing but true compassion and something else, something entirely unexpected. Somewhere in that clear blue of Tiffany's eyes, there was a hot little flame, suggesting that Izzy wasn't the only one affected by the presence of a naked woman. This woman. This diminutive, exuberant woman.

“You're not ugly. You're beautiful.” Tiffany's half open mouth slid along Izzy's jawline and then she rose on her tiptoes and softly kissed the scar on Izzy's cheek. Slow, small kisses, she traced it from Izzy's earlobe to the corner of her mouth.

Moaning, and torn between her reaction to flee and her desire to kiss Tiffany, Izzy closed her eyes again. She held on to her towel with one hand, but her free hand circled Tiffany's shoulders.

“Izzy. Please.”

“Mm?”

“Kiss me?”

Continued in part 8