“Ill remember that, ma’am,” she answered softly.

Drew reached a hand down to help her up. “Good fight, Ms. Grey.”

Sean followed the tall woman’s form with her eyes as she walked to the sink to wash the blood off her face. Her words echoed in Sean’s mind, and the spot where Drew had rested her hand against her stomach seemed to tingle. Her teacher, Master Cho, was a strong and demanding teacher, but never had Sean experienced the sheer force of personality as she had felt with Drew Clark. There was a deadly seriousness about her, the intensity of which took Sean’s breath away. She jumped at the sound of her teachers voice.

“Face front!”

Sean stood at attention once more, facing the test board.

Drew had returned, a small Band-Aid on her lip.

Master Cho stepped forward, saying, “Congratulations, Sean, you did well. I am proud to promote you to black stripe.”

She attached three black stripes to the tail of Sean’s red belt the highest level to which she could be promoted before she received her black belt. To receive three stripes after only one test was unusual, and an honor.

Sean bowed deeply and then shook her teachers hand.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

Master Cho dismissed the class, and the students swarmed Sean to pound her on the back and shake her hand. She barely heard the words of congratulations as she looked past the group to the austere blond woman who stood alone, watching her contemplatively.

CHAPTER TWO

“How is your lip?” Janet Cho asked as she pulled her Jeep Cherokee into the early evening traffic. She glanced over her shoulder at the rangy form of her former student, who was leaning forward in the back seat, her arms folded on the back of the front passenger seat.

Drew grinned slightly, her blue eyes laughing. “Its nothing. She caught me by surprise. A very nice follow-up to that long kick of hers. I should never underestimate a student of yours, Master Cho.”

Cho smiled inwardly, recalling a night many years ago when she had had to use every trick her twenty years in the martial arts had taught her to fend off a young black belt testee in a free-sparring match. That woman sat behind her, her finest student, equaled only by a younger student who sat beside her now her lover, Chris Roma.

“Perhaps I should have warned you about her legs. She was a professional dancer when she was younger, and she has the best kicks I have ever seen.”

“Except for yours, Master Cho,” Chris said from her seat beside her.

Janet laughed and reached fondly for the hand of her young lover. “You flatter me, and I love it. I’m too short for really good offensive kicks. I’ve had to learn to use my feet in defense, unlike you tall Americans.”

“She is very good,” Drew commented, remembering the total concentration on Sean’s face as she met each challenge that evening. She remembered too the firm muscles beneath her hand and the unguarded eyes that had met her own as she knelt above Sean. There had been a trust in the gaze that Drew was used to seeing in the eyes of her students, but, for some reason it had moved her more deeply than it usually did. It reminded her once again of the great responsibility she had in teaching these young women to defend themselves in a world that so often claimed them as victims. She pushed those thoughts away, as she had for the last eight years, refusing to allow the anger to surface and claim her mind once more.

“I kicked her too hard,” Drew continued, “I’m sorry.”

Janet Cho shook her head. “No. It was not too hard. She must learn to accept the pain for on the street, she must fight despite the pain if she is to survive.”

A quick gasp from Drew silenced Master Cho, who glanced quickly to her old friend.

“Ah I am so sorry, Drew. I did not think. Please forgive me.”

Drew shook her head, fighting off the memories. “No, you are right. Sometimes I forget that they still have much to learn.”

“And now I will have you both to help teach them. Yes?”

Janet Cho had offered Drew a position at her school as a teacher as soon as she heard that Drew was leaving the Army and returning to civilian life in Philadelphia. She had not yet heard Drew’s answer. Drew herself had been uncertain. At forty she had retired from the Army, and she wasn’t sure what she wanted from the rest of her life. She loved the martial arts. There had been years when only the demands of her training and teaching had provided any comfort in her life. Teaching women to survive, whether they were soldiers or students, had been her only purpose for many years. The demands and responsibilities of that task were enormous, and she was weary. Weary with caring, weary with the fear that she might not be giving enough. She thought again of the trust in those green eyes and made her decision.

“If you and Sabum Roma will have me.”

Chris Roma, fifteen years younger, outgoing and eager, clapped her hands in delight. “All right!”

Drew leaned back in the seat, relieved. She didn’t know Chris Roma very well she had been a young white belt when Drew left Philadelphia. Chris had started training after meeting Janet Cho at a self-defense course Master Cho had taught for graduate students at the city college. Against Janet’s better judgment she had accepted her lover as a student. They had been involved romantically for a year when Chris enrolled at the school, and Janet hadn’t been sure they could separate their personal issues for the necessary distance between student and teacher. It was only because of Chris’s deep respect for her lovers skill, dedication, and commitment to teaching that they had been successful. Within the walls of the Golden Tiger Kwan, Janet Cho was her teacher and nothing else.

Drew had been concerned that Chris might not welcome another teacher, especially one who outranked her. She had been wrong to worry Chris was mature beyond her thirty years and accepted that each person progressed at her own speed, in her own time, each according to her abilities. She welcomed Drew, and the chance to advance her own skills through working with her.

“Here we are!” Janet announced as she pulled in front of a neat stone row house in a quiet section of the city, known as Society Hill. Here were some of the small historic homes for which Philadelphia was known, their carefully preserved facades echoing the gentility of the city’s heritage.

“You know you can stay with us as long as you like, Drew.”

“I appreciate it both of you. I’m anxious to get settled though. Ill go apartment hunting soon.”

The women quickly unloaded their gear and headed for the brownstone, eager to talk and get reacquainted.

Ten miles away, Sean pulled into the long drive that led to her family home in Gladwynea stately wooded enclave of wealthy old families not so affectionately termed the “Main Line”. She shared the house that had been her childhood home with her twin sister, Susan.

“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.”