freezing; don't know about you." Jo smiled, leaning down and opening the box. "I have some flasks of hot drinks. Tea and coffee, which do you prefer?"
Rocky was shifting from foot to foot. "Um, tea... please."
"Ok." Jo took out the silver flask and poured some of the steaming liquid into a china mug. "I never could drink tea out of plastic," she said as she handed Rocky the mug. "There's milk and sugar in the box - didn't know how you'd take your tea."
"I don't get the choice very often," Rocky said as she crouched down and added milk and sugar to her tea.
"I'm sorry?" Jo was pouring herself a mug of coffee.
"I usually get my hot drinks in plastic, or polystyrene."
Jo looked up at the girl standing above her, and found Rocky staring at her.
"What?" asked Jo.
"Why are you here?"
"I told you before, I don't really know."
"What do you want from me?"
"Would you believe nothing?" Jo cupped her hands around the warm mug, and watched as Rocky blew gently on her hot drink.
Rocky began to walk around the car, her oversize boots scuffing the ground as she went. She appeared in front of the car, her form barely visible through the misty windscreen. "What type of car is this?"
"It's a Mercedes CLK 320."
Rocky nodded. "What size engine?"
"Um, no idea. I just get in it and drive it. It goes fast, that's all I know."
Rocky walked back around to the open passenger door. "What do you do? For a living, I mean."
"Ah, well," Jo shifted uncomfortably in the seat. "I don't work."
"You don't?"
Jo shook her head. "No. I may some day, but for now I don't."
"So how do you survive?" Rocky bent at the waist and placed her mug back in the box.
"My parents." Jo couldn't look up at her. She'd never felt ashamed of her wealth and her lifestyle before. Why now?
"I have to go," said Rocky. "Edna's watching my stuff."
Jo nodded, suddenly feeling deflated and foolish. "I'll come back tomorrow."
"Why?" asked Rocky. "Why don't you just go back to your world and forget about me? Whatever it is you think you're looking for isn't here. Find another cause to ease your conscience."
"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Jo stood, throwing the mug into the box with a clatter. "Trying to ease my conscience because I'm some sort of rich bitch?"
Rocky shrugged. "We've seen it before. They come down here, do a few soup runs, and think they've done their bit. If you want to help, put some money in the poor box sometime. There are folks worse off than me." Rocky turned away from her and started walking. She looked back as she walked away. "Go home, Jo."
Jo watched her walk away, watched her thrust her hands into her pockets as she ambled along the road. Just as the blonde turned the corner, she glanced back at the dark haired woman, and Jo was sure she saw something in the green eyes.
"She feels it too," she said to herself, and eased herself out of the car. She placed the box on the seat and walked around the car, getting into the driver's side. The car had warmed up nicely in the time she'd been sitting there, so she shifted it into gear and headed home.
When Jo arrived at her small house she immediately noticed a light on in the lounge. She parked the car in the garage and made her way up the stairs. Just inside the door, she noticed the leather jacket hanging on the stair rail.
"Trix?" she called out, walking into the lounge.
"Were you expecting someone else, Jojo?"
Beatrice James, Trixi to her friends, was draped across Jo's sofa, wearing Jo's bathrobe and a smile. She pushed bleached blonde hair back from an angular face and stood to meet the dark woman half way. "I've been waiting for you, Jojo."
"So I see," said Jo, seeing the half-empty whisky glass on the coffee table.
Trixi snaked her arms around Jo's neck, pulling her down. "I missed you last night," she said, and captured soft lips with her own. Maintaining the contact, she brought her hands between them and started to unzip Jo's jacket, and once it was undone she pushed it back off
Rocky was shifting from foot to foot. "Um, tea... please."
"Ok." Jo took out the silver flask and poured some of the steaming liquid into a china mug. "I never could drink tea out of plastic," she said as she handed Rocky the mug. "There's milk and sugar in the box - didn't know how you'd take your tea."
"I don't get the choice very often," Rocky said as she crouched down and added milk and sugar to her tea.
"I'm sorry?" Jo was pouring herself a mug of coffee.
"I usually get my hot drinks in plastic, or polystyrene."
Jo looked up at the girl standing above her, and found Rocky staring at her.
"What?" asked Jo.
"Why are you here?"
"I told you before, I don't really know."
"What do you want from me?"
"Would you believe nothing?" Jo cupped her hands around the warm mug, and watched as Rocky blew gently on her hot drink.
Rocky began to walk around the car, her oversize boots scuffing the ground as she went. She appeared in front of the car, her form barely visible through the misty windscreen. "What type of car is this?"
"It's a Mercedes CLK 320."
Rocky nodded. "What size engine?"
"Um, no idea. I just get in it and drive it. It goes fast, that's all I know."
Rocky walked back around to the open passenger door. "What do you do? For a living, I mean."
"Ah, well," Jo shifted uncomfortably in the seat. "I don't work."
"You don't?"
Jo shook her head. "No. I may some day, but for now I don't."
"So how do you survive?" Rocky bent at the waist and placed her mug back in the box.
"My parents." Jo couldn't look up at her. She'd never felt ashamed of her wealth and her lifestyle before. Why now?
"I have to go," said Rocky. "Edna's watching my stuff."
Jo nodded, suddenly feeling deflated and foolish. "I'll come back tomorrow."
"Why?" asked Rocky. "Why don't you just go back to your world and forget about me? Whatever it is you think you're looking for isn't here. Find another cause to ease your conscience."
"Is that what you think I'm doing?" Jo stood, throwing the mug into the box with a clatter. "Trying to ease my conscience because I'm some sort of rich bitch?"
Rocky shrugged. "We've seen it before. They come down here, do a few soup runs, and think they've done their bit. If you want to help, put some money in the poor box sometime. There are folks worse off than me." Rocky turned away from her and started walking. She looked back as she walked away. "Go home, Jo."
Jo watched her walk away, watched her thrust her hands into her pockets as she ambled along the road. Just as the blonde turned the corner, she glanced back at the dark haired woman, and Jo was sure she saw something in the green eyes.
"She feels it too," she said to herself, and eased herself out of the car. She placed the box on the seat and walked around the car, getting into the driver's side. The car had warmed up nicely in the time she'd been sitting there, so she shifted it into gear and headed home.
When Jo arrived at her small house she immediately noticed a light on in the lounge. She parked the car in the garage and made her way up the stairs. Just inside the door, she noticed the leather jacket hanging on the stair rail.
"Trix?" she called out, walking into the lounge.
"Were you expecting someone else, Jojo?"
Beatrice James, Trixi to her friends, was draped across Jo's sofa, wearing Jo's bathrobe and a smile. She pushed bleached blonde hair back from an angular face and stood to meet the dark woman half way. "I've been waiting for you, Jojo."
"So I see," said Jo, seeing the half-empty whisky glass on the coffee table.
Trixi snaked her arms around Jo's neck, pulling her down. "I missed you last night," she said, and captured soft lips with her own. Maintaining the contact, she brought her hands between them and started to unzip Jo's jacket, and once it was undone she pushed it back off
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