“Suse? You home?” she called as she pulled the heavy walnut door closed behind her.

“In my office,” came the reply.

Sean moved through to the kitchen and pulled a lager from the refrigerator, snapping the top off as she crossed to the dining room. Her sisters office was what had formerly been their fathers study.

“Hey,” she said, leaning against the door and surveying the disaster that was her sisters work space. Computer sheets spewed from the printer onto the floor, portfolios lay open on the long oak work-top, and the face that looked up at her was smudged with ink.

“Hey, yourself! How was it did you do okay?”

Sean thought once again that she would never get used to looking into her own face and finding not a reflection of herself, but nearly her polar opposite. Where she was reserved and introspective, her twin was excitable and extroverted. They were like two halves of the same coin individual, and yet eternally joined.

“I got my stripes three of them.”

“Oh Way to go! I knew the old battle-axe would recognize your incredible talent.”

“Suse! She’s not an old battle-axe!” Sean responded in mock exasperation. Her sister, who loathed authority in any form, couldn’t understand how her sister could subject herself willingly to what she called “abuse”.

“Anyone who makes grown women do push-ups because they forget to say Yes Ma’am is a sadist,” she said half seriously. She held up a hand to stop her sisters protests. They had had this conversation before. “I know, I know you love it, you love her, you love Tae Kwon Do. You’re seeking your higher power heaven forbid I should complain about anyone’s higher power. Still, you’re a masochist. You proved that by marrying Michael Montrose.”

Susan had never liked Sean’s husband and had protested vehemently when she had married him at twenty. Not only had it meant that Sean moved to another city, she also gave up dancing, deciding to study psychology. The sisters had remained close, and after Sean left her ten-year marriage, Susan had welcomed her home.

“A momentary lapse in judgment and I am not a masochist!”

“Oh, I forgot psychologists cant have neuroses you’re all normal and healthy.”

“You should know,” Sean riposted. “You’re married to one.”

“Ellen and I are not married. We’re, we’re seriously involved.”

“Is that what you call a six-year monogamous relationship? Seriously, when are you going to give in and live with her?”

For the first time Susan looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know. She keeps asking, but I just cant do it. Look at Mom and Dad and you, for crying out loud! Marriage equals death for a relationship. At least we still have good sex.”

Sean bit back a retort. Ellen Tyler and she shared an office in the renovated carriage house that adjoined the main house. They were friends, and she knew how much Ellen longed to cement her relationship with Susan by living together. Sean also knew how much Susan’s steadfast refusal hurt Ellen. Still, Susan was her sister, they shared the same history, and she understood Susan’s reluctance. She even shared it herself. After her divorce five years previously, she had had no interest in relationships, casual or otherwise. She didn’t miss the sex she hadn’t found it all that earth shattering to begin with. She had her friends, her sister, her work to occupy her. If occasionally she longed for someone to share her quiet moments with, it was a feeling she could live with. Life was good she was content.

“Maybe you and Ellen should see a therapist together?”

Susan shot her a horrified look. “Oh please! Isn’t AA enough? I cant face anymore processing in my life.”

Sean laughed. “Okay I give. What are you doing, anyhow?”

“Tokyo is going crazy, and I’m trying to keep all my boats afloat. Ill be done in a while I just need to make sure all my clients millions don’t turn into confetti. Want to watch a movie in about an hour?”

“Sounds great! I’m exhausted. Let me shower you pick the film.”

When they met later in the library, Susan was prepared with her choice of film. “You’ll like this one its about a lesbian psychiatrist and a bunch of women on this writers retreat.”

Sean handed her a bowl of popcorn and curled up beside her on the large sofa.

“What’s it called?”

” Claire of the Moon .”

“Okay roll it.”

Sean munched popcorn and let her body dissolve into the soft cushions as the story of two women learning to love each other unfolded. She liked the way the two main characters looked they were attractive in a light butch/femme way. The psychiatrist was pretty uptight type casting? But then, she had been hurt by love. The other one was straight except all that meant was that she slept with men. Emotionally they didn’t touch her. The women danced together and apart throughout much of the movie drawn closer by need and desire pulled apart by fear.

At one point, Susan exclaimed, “If they don’t get together soon, Ill die. I cant stand this foreplay!”

Sean laughed, “Don’t you know that’s most of the fun? Once the tension breaks, its only sex.”

Susan looked at her aghast. “Excuse me! Only sex? No wonder you can stand being celibate!”

Sean shrugged. “Its not so bad.”

Susan clicked the remote to pause. “Don’t you miss it?” she asked, uncharacteristically serious.

Sean pondered the question. “What I miss is something I never had. I don’t miss the act it wasn’t all that much fun. And what I wanted from it was closeness intimacy and that just wasn’t there.”

“Maybe it was Michael?”

“I don’t think so, Suse. He isn’t the only man I ever slept with, and some of them were damn nice guys. It just didn’t happen to me.”

“Did you ever think about women?”

Sean tossed a pillow at her. “With you and these movies around how could I not? These two are beautiful to look at , and beautiful together. So are you and Ellen. You and I share the same genes I know that. I’m just not ready for anyone, Suse. Maybe I never will be.”

Susan nodded and clicked the movie back on. She didn’t believe her sister for a minute.

CHAPTER THREE

“Line up for one-steps,” Master Drew Clark called. “Gail you’re with Sean. The rest of you pair off by rank.”

Sean stood facing Gail Driscoll, the blue belt who ranked second in the class. She was a handsome young woman, fit and strong from rugby, which was her passion after Tae Kwon Do. Her shoulder-length hair was slightly shaggy, which lent her a roguish air. She had a natural talent for the art and would have been further along if she had applied herself a little more seriously. As it was, she was young and full of spirit, and all the world seemed to beckon her with some new adventure. Sean liked her in an older sister kind of way and occasionally envied her nave optimism.

“I want ten one-steps, one after the other. I expect to see advanced techniques from the senior students. Face each other. Bow. Begin!” Drew called. She moved up and down the room, correcting stances on the newer students, offering advice to the intermediates. When she reached Sean and Gail, she stood quietly to one side, her arms folded, her legs spread. Gail, she noted, was using fairly routine techniques that they practiced many times, performing adequately but without much initiative. Sean, as she had come to expect over the month she had been teaching, was improvising new combinations that were her own originals. Her technique was crisp and controlled. Drew respected Sean’s quiet determination and tireless effort. She brought an air of calm dedication to each class and set a good example for younger students.

“Let me see something that befits your rank, Gail. Sean, put out a high section punch to the face.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they replied in unison.

Sean punched forward with her right hand, holding the position so Gail could institute a defensive combination. Gail countered swiftly with a high forearm block and turned to finish with a high hooking kick. She lost her balance slightly as she kicked and caught Sean full in the face with the heel of her foot. Sean dropped instantly, blood streaming from her nose.

“Oh god,” Gail cried. “Oh Jeez I’m sorry.”

Drew knelt beside Sean whose eyes were closed. For a brief moment Drew was in a darkened alley with another woman whose face was covered in blood. Fear and anguish threatened to choke her, and she whispered, “Dara?” in a strangled voice.

Sean moaned and opened her eyes. Through a haze she could see Drew’s face, panic-stricken, staring down at her. The blue eyes were glazed, uncharacteristically vulnerable, and a sea of pain washed through them. The hand that reached for her was trembling.

“Oh god, no” Drew moaned.

Sean heard the agony in Drew’s deep voice and struggled for speech.

“Its all right, Master Clark. I’m okay except I think my nose is broken.”

Drew shook her head, confused, and then realized where she was and what had happened.

“Lie still, Sean. Don’t try to move yet. Gail, soak a towel with cold water and bring it to me.” She glanced up at the young woman beside her, who stood terrified in place.

“Go on, Gail. Do it!” Drew snapped. As Gail rushed off, Drew turned once again to Sean. She slipped her fingers into the palm of Sean’s left hand.

“Squeeze my fingers, Sean harder. Good, now the other hand. Good. Now move both legs.” She nodded in relief as Sean complied. “Now, tell me who you are.”

“Sean Grey. I’m at the Golden Tiger Kwan, and Gail just decked me.”

Drew laughed a little shakily. “Very good. Now can you see me clearly?”

“Yes,” Sean replied, not adding that Drew looked as pale as she felt.

Drew pressed the iced towel against Sean’s face and slid one arm under her shoulders.