THE LUNCHBOX
An
ER/Roseanne crossover
Spoilers:
No
Rating:
NC-17
The
copyright owners own the copyrights to the characters portrayed.
The
small town of Lanford really couldn’t be considered a bedroom community for
Chicago, Kerry thought. It had taken her over an hour to find it, and if she
was going to consider a move to the suburbs, it would have to be much closer.
She
planned to tell the realtor that, if the woman ever showed up. In the meantime,
she waited at the Lanford Lunch Box, a small but clean-looking place that
served greasy sandwiches. She didn’t eat much red meat, but she hadn’t eaten
breakfast that morning either, and the smell of fried onions and the heaping
plates around her tipped the scale in favor of a shot of fat and cholesterol.
She signalled the waitress, who was chatting with a the cook, a heavyset woman
with dark hair.
“Get
off your ass and see what she wants, Jackie,” the cook ordered. “Push the
special.”
“What
can I do ya for, Red?” the waitress asked with a grin, flipping open her pad.
She wore an apron over jeans and a flannel shirt, her dark hair pulled back
in a loose ponytail. She had a big grin, and her dark eyes smiled as well.
“What’s
the special?” Kerry asked.
“Well,
there’s the loose meat sandwich,” Jackie said. “Then there’s the loose meat
sandwich. And, for you, we have the loose meat sandwich.”
“What
kind of meat?” Kerry ventured.
“Whatever we scrape off the road, from the county
highway to your plate, complete with the taste of burnt rubber!” Jackie told
her, deadpan.
“I
think I’ll have the loose meat sandwich,” Kerry said. “With mustard, no possum.”
“Hey
Roseanne,” Jackie called back to the kitchen. “Catch something that’s running
around back there, smack it on the head, and put it on a roll!”
“I
don’t suppose you have whole wheat?” Kerry asked. She was enjoying this. She
didn’t joke easily, and sometimes wished she knew how to banter. She thought,
given the chance, she could be funny.
“What
do you think this is, Chicago?” Jackie sassed back. “Out here in the heartland,
there’s only one kind of bread: white!”
Kerry’s
pager went off, and she returned the call to hear a breathless explanation
from the realtor: flat tire...miles from a garage...tow truck on the way...Kerry
told her not to bother, she wouldn’t be buying a house this far out. She hung
up and looked around at the lunchonette, wishing it were a bit closer to home.
Jackie was joking with another customer; the cook, Roseanne, shouted to them
over her grill. The customers were a mix of men who looked like truckers and
mechanics, and...a lot of women. There was at least one couple, holding hands
and sharing their french fries. There were a few signed photos on the wall,
like the ones she’d seen in many coffee shops and diners; these were of Melissa
Etheridge, Ellen DeGeneres, and Rosie O’Donnell.
Jackie
noticed Kerry inspecting the pictures.
“We
sent some of our sandwiches, packed in dry ice, to every famous lesbian we
could think of, and told them to come by if they were ever in town. And they
all sent us back autographed pictures. Well, we didn’t send one to kd lang!”
“Is
this a lesbian restaurant?” Kerry asked.
“It’s
a restaurant for anyone who wants a sandwich,” Jackie clarified. “The only
rule is, you don’t bother the other customers. Some folks, you know, if they
tried to hold hands, say, at any other restaurant in town, they might get
hassled...but no one tries any of that here. My sister back there...” she
indicated the kitchen. “Is pretty good with the bat we keep behind the counter.
And I used to be a cop. I can still take a man down if I have to. Or a woman,”
she said in a totally different tone.
“What
a nice place!” Kerry said. She eyed Jackie’s tan arm, the muscles showing
and sliding smoothly under her rolled-up sleeves.
“I
ain’t gonna walk it out to her, Jackie!” Rosanne called from the kitchen.
Kerry wheeled around to return to the counter, and the tip of her crutch slipped
on the recently-washed floor. As Kerry felt her bad leg go, Jackie caught
her, and delicately set her back on her feet.
“Sorry
about that!” she apologized. “Don’t sue us!”
“You’re
strong,” Kerry gasped, grateful that she hadn’t ended up on the floor; she
hated falling more than anything else. And Jackie’s grip had been sure but
not painful. Pleasant and hard across Kerry’s breasts.
“Here,
here...your food,” Jackie replied, blushing deeply. “I didn’t meant to uh...I
mean, no personal contact intended...uh...I was just trying to keep you from...”
“Falling,”
Kerry said. “Thank you, and no, I won’t sue you.” Jackie looked relieved.
“Unless I get food poisoning.” Jackie let out a loud guffaw, and a smaller
giggle. Kerry suddenly felt like they knew each other.
“So
you used to be a police officer?” she asked. Jackie semi-perched on the stool
next to Kerry, twirling a little, nervous.
“Yeah,
I really liked it,” she said. “But I got hurt. With my bad back, I couldn’t
pass the physical anymore, I didn’t feel disabled, but...” she broke off and
looked at Kerry, obviously terrified she’d said something wrong.
Kerry
concentrated on her sandwich. It was excellent. She let Jackie hang for a
minute, not to be mean, but to let her know that she might want to choose
her words more carefully.
“This
is very good,” she told Jackie. “May I have a napkin?” Jackie silently handed
her one, and Kerry wiped her lips. “What did you do after you left the force?”
“Well,
uh...” Kerry supplied her first name. “I drove a long haul truck, and I liked
that, too.” Butcher and butcher, Kerry thought. She was discovering that she
liked tough girls who changed tires and held the door open.
“Then
I got pregnant, and married, you know, had to stay home with my kid...” Jackie
went on. Kerry glanced quickly at her hand. No wedding ring.
“Then
I got divorced,” Jackie went on. “My sister and me, we came into a little
money, and she was as sick of working for someone else as I was. We got together
with our other friend, Nancy, after she broke up with her husband, and now
we have the Lunch Box, and it can be fun. We almost make a living.”
Roseanne
came out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on her apron.
“So
in case you’re keeping score, or, you know, wondering who to hit on, or who’s
going to hit on you: I’m straight, married; Jackie’s divorced, gay and has
a kid, and Nancy, when she comes in, is divorced, gay and single. She’s a
slut. Oh yeah, and my Mom’s gay, too, but she has a girlfriend. I think one
of my daughters is gay, but she hasn’t left her husband yet, and she’s too
young for you anyway.”
Kerry
couldn’t think of one thing to say. Actually, she could think of about a million
things, but they were all fighting for a chance to be the first question out
of her mouth. She felt like she was in a situation comedy.
“How’s
your coffee?” she finally said.
“It
ain’t Starbucks,” Rosanne declared. “You still want a cup?”
Kerry
nodded. “And I think I could use some ice cream.”
***
At
the end of the lunch rush, Jackie offered to drive Kerry around Lanford, trying
to convince her that the commute to Chicago wasn’t too long. Kerry didn’t
believe her, but didn’t want to leave.
Jackie
had a pickup truck, and Kerry had some trouble stepping up to get in. Jackie
reached over and pulled her in, but Kerry was embarassed at her awkwardness.
She always preferred to think of the things that she could do, not the things
that were beyond her physical capability. Jackie steadied her, and patted
her knee lightly.
“It’s
all right. You should see Rosanne when she’s drunk trying to get up that step.
I practically have to set up a block and tackle.” Kerry giggled. Roseanne
waved at them through the window. She stuck out her tongue at Jackie. She’d whispered something in Jackie’s ear before
they left.
“What
did she say to you?” Kerry asked.
“She
said she didn’t know if you were slumming, or I was overreaching, but she
hoped we’d have fun,” Jackie told her, very busy adjusting the mirror.
“Do
you think I’m slumming?” Kerry asked. “How do you decide something like that?”
She
remembered something Kim, another doctor, had told her when they first started
seeing each other; that lesbians were very class-conscious, and didn’t date
across those lines. At the time, Kim was Kerry’s only source of information
on How Lesbians Behave. Since then, Kerry had dated a firefighter, Sandy,
definitely someone of a different class, if you based it on education and
income. But Kerry had noticed that doctors, cops, firefighters and EMTs often
bonded over their common goal of saving lives. So did common interest override
class lines? Sometimes Kerry felt just as clueless almost two years after
coming out as she had when she was falling in love with Kim.
“Well,
I like to think I have something to offer,” Jackie said, with the nervous
smile she’d flashed a few times already. “I own a business, a home, I’m a
responsible parent. I don’t know if I have anything in common with you but...”
“But?”
Kerry asked.
“Sparks
are important,” Kerry admitted. “In the long run, I think you have to have
some common ground. But I also think you have to have something that draws
you together.”
“What
do you do?” Jackie asked, eyes on the road.
“What
do you think I do?” Kerry asked. She was so rarely out of her ER milieu, away
from her comfort zone, she was genuinely curious about how she appeared to
others.
“Well,”
said Jackie, pulling into a small, secluded park, and shutting off the motor,
“let me have a look at you.” She took Kerry’s hand, and turned it over, stroking
the palm.
“You
have some calluses, but not like you’re a carpenter or something. Or a musician.
But you use your hands.” She looked more closely at Kerry’s hand, turning
it over. “You also have short nails, and they aren’t polished. So for some
reason, you don’t want or can’t have tips or a fancy manicure.” She moved
her lips closer to Kerry’s fingers, until they almost tickled. Kerry rather
liked the feeling. “And you smell like disinfectant. Like you wash your hands
a lot. And you make enough money to buy a house in Lanford, which isn’t real
posh, but we’re getting some yuppies, though not the richest ones...so I’d
say you’re not a business executive, or a banker. You’re not loaded, but you’re
not hurting. Maybe you work in a lab, maybe you’re a nurse, or some kind of
medical technician. They can pull down a pretty good hourly wage.”
“You
would have been a good detective,” Kerry told her, with a quick intake of
breath as Jackie brushed her lips over the tips of Kerry’s fingers. “I’m a
doctor.” Jackie leaned back a little. Kerry put her hand on Jackie’s leg,
feeling the muscles under the faded denim. She wondered why Jackie pulled
back. She ran her hand up Jackie’s thigh to where it became her crotch.
“What
would your doctor friends say if they saw me with you?” Jackie asked.
“What
would your truck driver friends say if they saw me with you?” Kerry responded.
“I don’t see any of them around now, do you?” She fiddled with the buttons
on Jackie’s shirt. and Jackie let out a long sigh. Kerry slid her hand inside
the blouse, and pushed Jackie’s sports bra up over her firm breast. Her nipple
was large and standing at attention. She looked around the small lot they
were parked in. Kerry realized they could be seen from the road. The idea
of people driving by catching a glimpse of them doing...what? made her suddenly
more excited. No one knew her here.
“This
is very high school,” Jackie said, blushing, but not resisting as Kerry circled
her nipple.
“I
wouldn’t know, I didn’t date in high school,” Kerry told her.
“You’ve
never experienced the torture of trying to do it in a car?” Jackie asked.
“That’s why I have a truck.” She pulled a blanket from behind the seat, and
flung her door open. She was around the truck in a second, and held the door
open for Kerry, lifting her lightly to the ground. “Come on...get in the back!”
she urged. “There’s no one around, and it’s a beautiful day, and I bet you’ve
never made love outside.”
“No,
I haven’t,” Kerry realized. It had been beds and showers and living rooms
and kitchen tables, but never the great outdoors. Jackie lowered the rear
gate and Kerry awkwardly climbed in, noticing the truck’s bed was carpeted.
Jackie seemed well-prepared. She threw the blanket over the both of them,
and pulled Kerry close.
“You
mean to tell me you never got to have some sweaty jock pawing at you and prying
your legs apart and humping on you like a dog?” Jackie asked. “You don’t know
what you were missing,” she said with a low laugh.
“You
make it sound so appetizing,” Kerry murmured as Jackie nuzzled her neck, moving
up to plant a firm kiss on Kerry’s slightly parted lips. Soon Jackie’s tongue
was in Kerry’s mouth, and her hands were urgently reaching under her blouse.
Kerry kissed back just as hard, and let her tongue travel up Jackie’s jaw,
and began to nibble on her earlobe. She could tell she’d found a good place,
as Jackie began to croon with excitement, her eyes shut, her breath coming
in short gasps.Kerry played with the hair on the back of her neck, running
both hands up into Jackie’s hair and pressing her close for a deeper kiss.
Jackie’s
hand was in Kerry’s pants, feeling for the curly thatch that was growing damp.
“Mmm...you
don’t shave...I like that,” she whispered. She worked her own jeans down her
legs, and then her boxers. “If I had
you at home, I’d have my harness on,” she told Kerry. “I’d watch you go down
on my dick, then I’d ride you like the wind.”
“Fortunately,
you have a hand,” Kerry reminded her.
“Kerry,
I want to taste you....can I?”
“I’ve
been walking around all day...I don’t feel...” Kerry began.
“I
like a woman with some taste to her pussy,” Jackie told her. “After a shower,
all you taste is the water and soap. “I like it...tangy.” And with that, she
went down on Kerry, deftly working her tongue around Kerry’s clit, pushing
it in, then stroking it back up, pulling it with her teeth. Kerry was feeling
far too much pleasure to be embarassed, and she pulled Jackie in even closer.
Jackie took her further and further; she’d never felt such powerful sensations
from a tongue, and had never felt such a long, powerful build to climax.
“I’m
going to come...” she gasped. Jackie kept up the delicious rhythm. Kerry tried
to push herself back, but Jackie wouldn’t let her. She knew she came very
wet, and didn’t want to drown Jackie. But in a moment, it was beyond her control,
and she felt herself gush with pleasure, in a big wave, then smaller aftershocks.Jackie’s
busy tongue lapped it up, and thrust deep inside her vagina, licking and probing
the walls in a pleasurable examination. When she lifted her face to Kerry,
it was glistening, and her broad grin shone wetly. She crawled up to cuddle
with Kerry, who was still pretty much incapable of speech, kissing her cheeks
and her eyes and her lips.
“You
know,” she told Kerry, “when I was with men, I always had a hard time coming,
and one of the only ways I could was when the guy went down on me. And they
never wanted to do it, or do it long enough. When I finally came out, I determined
to be the best pussy-eater in Lanford, and work my way up to Chicago...maybe
the whole Midwest.”
“You’re
the best I’ve had,” said Kerry, who didn’t add that she’d not had that many.
Still, she could tell Jackie was very, very good.
“I
know you’re not going to move out here,” Jackie said. “But I didn’t want to
let you get away without at least trying to get to know you a little...”
“I’m
glad you tried,” Kerry told her. “Sometimes I regret not following through
on my own impulses. I liked you, too, but I didn’t think of doing about it.
At least not at first. And now I don’t feel like forgetting about it...I could
come here again. It’s not that far away.”
“Or
I could ride you back to Chicago,”Jackie offered. Kerry thought about all
the meanings of that particular statement. “You know, I still do some runs
in the truck on the weekends when my son is with his father,” Jackie told
her. “I like someone to ride along. Roseanne can’t get away very often. But
if you feel like riding shotgun, I could show you around...”
“The
interstate?” Kerry teased.
“The
part of a rig where the trucker sleeps...or whatever,” Jackie told her.
“I’ve
never done anything like that,” Kerry observed. Jackie watched her carefully,
looking, Kerry was sure, for some sign of rejection or disdain. “I think...doing
things I’ve never done has made me a happier person. At least some of the
time.”
“Then
you should definitely pick up a load of onions in Vidalia, Georgia with me
next month,” Jackie told her. “They’re the sweet kind.”
“Like
you,” Kerry said, and Jackie blushed.