The flight to Oakland was on time, which was a good thing, as tired as I was.   The constant hum of the airplane was beginning to sound like a long lost lullaby.   I fought to stay awake.  After all, this what I had been hoping and waiting for.

“Hey Buffy, you awake?”

“Yeah, barely.  What’s up?”

“Don’t answer to Buffy anymore okay?  And don’t call me Candy either.”

”Okay... Shelly.”  Frankly I was glad because it meant the end of the charade we were playing; there was no more Buffy and I could just be me again.  Already it seemed like such a long time ago since the first day as Buffy.

Once the plane landed we walked to the baggage claim area where we were to meet Serge.  I started to get nervous.  After so much time apart and everything that transpired, I would finally get to be intimate with Serge.  It was odd that I had sex with hundreds of strangers, yet it was exactly what I had done in the name of “love”. 

"Hi ya Luv." I could see Serge's smiling face bobbing in-and-out of the sea of faces. My first impulse was to rush into his arms and simply melt in his embrace.  I still had a bit of naivite within me, despite my experiences. 

However Shelly beat me to his arms.  Well, she is his number one lady.  At least it is what she thinks.  I would have to keep playing the subservient role until Serge had a chance to put things into its proper perspective with her.  What was a few more hours now?

He greeted her with a kiss, and yet the whole time he was kissing her, his eyes were wide open, boring a hole straight into my heart.   I was sure it was not Shelly he was kissing...it was me.  I waited for my turn.  She stepped back out of the way and held one arm out… as though I was her gift to him. She motioned for me to join them.  Not wanting to cause a scene I turned my cheek, ready for the obligatory kiss he did when in front of her.  No sense in upsetting things now.  It really would have made a lovely photo though, just one big happy family to the outsider.

I trailed behind them as we walked to the car.  Shelly was hanging on to him and talking non—stop.  Once again I climbed into the backseat.

“Sheila, why don’t you sit up front with us?”  Serge asked me.

“I’m so tired... I really just want to get into the back seat and stretch out...if that is okay with you.”

Obviously it was.  I could hardly believe I was finally on my way home. I began pushing the memories of Mustang Ranch out with the mounting anticipation of my first sexual encounter with Serge.   I could envisioned us; finally alone to strip ourselves of the facade we had been living for the sake of…for the sake of what?

I was too tired to think.  When the car stopped I sat up to see where we were.  I did not recognize the house, but I saw Shelly's blue Camaro parked out front.

Serge turned to me, "We’ll leave Shelly off here, at her car.  I'll be staying with you, at your place tonight." Shelly looked furious.  Tough, it was my turn, I had earned it.

Finally, we would be alone together. We could express ourselves physically.  The mere thought of it was energizing.

Shelly got out of the car and slammed the door in anger.  I quickly got out and walked around to the passenger side just as she backed up her car and left a trail of rubber smoking on the road.

"Wow, I've never seen her so angry.  Is it because you’re going to stay with me tonight?”   I had put up with all I could take from her.  She wrongly assumed since she was his number one, she deserved to have the first night.  I knew better.  I slid into the front seat next to him.

He nodded, “yeah.”  He obviously was not too pleased with her exit either.

“Sweetheart, I’m pretty tired, I can wait until tomorrow.”  I was too tired to worry about it.

“No luv, she knew it was going to be me and you the first night.  She needs to get some rest and chill.”

“Good.  I really missed you.”

“Gimme a kiss, I missed you more than you know.”   He reached over and pulled me close as the world disappeared around us.  Not kissing anyone really made sense to me now, it was something special to be given to the man you love.  

Once we drove off we made small talk, I wanted to know how the club was doing, and if the regulars had missed me?  Yes they had, and the club was doing pretty well, but Serge was preoccupied with something.

It was a beautiful day in Oakland.  We went out to breakfast at a restaurant we had occasionally eaten in, it didn’t really matter as long as we could reacquaint.  I told him about how the relationship with Shelly had deteriorated once at ranch.  He listened intently and at times, he seemed visibly disgusted with her treatment of me. I was assured it would not be like that anymore. 

He assured me he had not realized she would have taken advantage of the situation, as apparently she had done.  I could finally begin to relax; from now on Shelly and I would work separately, and take our vacation at different times. 

He drove me home after our meal, with my permission for him to ask her to join us later for dinner.  I wanted a chance to take a nap, unpack and clean up for our evening out.  I felt confidant she would not accept the invitation after this morning.  I knew I wouldn't have.

Around seven that evening Serge picked me up...with Shelly on his arm.  I suppose I should have guessed she would try to cut in on my time.  Well, I knew we would be together after dinner, she was not going to be sleeping with us.

Again I reverted back into my number two position all during dinner, letting her cling to him as much as she wanted to.  This time she didn't cause a scene, even when Serge dropped her off at their apartment.  She apparently had been warned against it and decided to accept the inevitable.  I was delighted.  I was thrilled I had let Serge handle things in his own way.  He knew her best.

I was quite eager to get back to my apartment, however Serge wanted  to check on the business at the club, so we stopped in for a drink.  By the time we left there I was nearly incoherent, from exhaustion more than the alcohol, but I was still determined the rest of the night would be as wonderful as we could make it.

I led Serge down the hall to my bedroom.  It was a small room, yet ample for the double bed.  The full moon illuminated the room enough for us to see each other strip down to our underwear.  I climbed into the bed, slipping down in-between the cool sheets.  This was such a luxury.  It was unbelievably good to feel the self-made lumps of my own bed and ecstasy to have my own soft pillow beneath my head.

Finally Serge slid in next to me.  After all of this time he was there to share it.  I felt my body relax, maybe for the first time in weeks.  We slid off our clothing and  Serge held me tightly.   I nuzzled his neck and began kissing him with all of the repressed emotions I had been holding in for so long.  All I wanted to do was kiss him and memorize his body slowly.  His body tensed under my fingers, and he practically lifted my small frame on top of his.  I felt Serge place his hands on either side of my head lifting my face up to meet his.  As I looked into his dark eyes expectantly, lovingly he began pushing me down.  Lower, lower.  His eyes no longer had love in them at all.  What I was seeing in them was to be nothing more than obligation.  Now he had pushed my head down forcefully until I was in front of his semi-erect penis. 

"Kiss it.  Suck me."  He ordered.

I recoiled immediately, at once stung by his words and expectation.  We were supposed to be making love and yet he was acting like...like…"You're...you’re... nothing but a TRICK!"  I blurted out loud.  There, I said it.

In this moment everything crystallized; I realized I hated him.  He pushed my body off of him with such force I flew onto the floor.   He stood up, began throwing his clothes on mumbling, “You ungrateful bitch.  You fucking cunt.” 

I lay in a heap on the floor scooting away, now trying to avoid him at all cost.  I could not even cry.  I had no idea whether he was going to kick me... or worse.   I was so confused watching him storm around, cursing me.  I was afraid to not look at him for fear of what he might do.   I should not have to hold back how I felt, for the fear of ruining things, but I was frightened it would inflame him more.  After all of this time, I was seeing the truth about Serge, and it was not pretty.  

It was simply easier to let him go, even though I knew he would be going straight into Shelly's arms, to his old faithful.  I no longer cared, let him go, anything to get him out of my apartment.

As he left he turned, "I'm too fuckin’ hurt to stay with you.  At this point I don't care if I ever see your face again."  The door slammed behind him and he was gone.  He was hurt.  Nice to know I could arouse some feeling in him. 

I locked the chain lock, went into the kitchen, poured myself a drink and sat down in front of the fireplace.  I still was in shock, how could I have been so wrong about Serge?  Had I overreacted...was it my fault the night ended up this way?  No, it was not me, it was him.  Hell, I had upheld my part of the deal.  Not so Serge.  I was too emotionally drained to think straight.  I decided to go to bed; sleep is what I needed most.

I was hardly surprised the next morning, when Shelly woke me by banging on my door.  “Sheila, I know you’re in there, let me in.”

“Hang on, I’m coming.”  What the hell time was it anyway?  I wrapped my robe around me as I walked to the door.  Damn, what a way to wake up.  I struggled to remember last night.  The pit in my stomach told me it had not been a good one.  I unchained the door and opened it.   “Come on in.  You’ll wake the neighbors up.” 

Shelly could not hide her delight in having him all to herself the first evening.  She had won that round. Frankly the whole thing was beginning to be a bit redundant; he was using Shelly as the go-between again.  I wondered why Serge even bothered this time; I now remembered his stinging words from last night.   He knew Shelly’s and my discourse was at a point of no return.  He obviously thought I was stupid enough to listen to her try and bridge the problem he and I have.

She offered her explanation, “Sheila, Serge and I know last night was very emotional for you.  He told me you called him a trick?  What in the hell were you thinking?”  

"Well, I did.  I was so tired.  It was difficult to think straight. Shelly, he treated me just like some trick would. I honestly had no idea I would blurt out he was a trick... or that he would react in such a nasty way.  He called me a few horrible names too you know.  In fact, I was scared of him.  His is not who I thought he was.  He should have been more patient with me, after all I had been through for him.  Love, what does he know about it anyway?"

“Oh God, you did screw up.”  She tried to put her arms around me, but I shrugged it off.  I did not want her to touch me either.  I had enough of their phony caring.

"Look kid, I know the past few weeks has been rough on you, I’m sorry things didn’t go as well as you wanted last night.  It wasn’t so wonderful for him either, thinking you loved him and calling him a trick.  That is the worst possible thing you could have said to him.  He is hurting too.  It would probably be better for both of you if you don't see him again... I mean, for the rest of our vacation; it’s only three more days.  By the next vacation, you'll have him to yourself.”  She added, "You can have dinner with us every night, but he will stay the nights with me this time."

“Yeah, sure.”  He was hurt...oh how horrible.  What I did not say to her was how huge of a relief I felt after hearing this.  The mere thought of climbing into bed with Serge made me feel ill.  There was no way I would let him touch me now...not ever.   I readily agreed to the plan.  Besides, this would give me a couple of days to look up some friends, and the first would be the Caped Crusader.  I was actually looking forward to some time with someone who really knew me.

For the next three nights, as soon as Serge and Shelly dropped me off after dinner, I would call the Caped Crusader.  He would come by and we would go out to a club, or just stay in talking.  He understood me way more than Serge ever did. 

I grew closer to the Caped Crusader, and further away from Serge.  If I was to spend time having sex with customers without enjoying it, never mind the fact I had never been sexual with Serge, I chose to make love with the Crusader, always a tender, thoughtful lover.  Though during sex with him, I immediately noticed Mustang's rituals affected me, even more-so than the episode with Serge had.  I caught myself behaving in ways I never had in the past; I continually looked at the clock, conscious of the amount of time passing.  Then there was the jumping up immediately afterwards to wash off.  Perhaps the most disturbing was my reaction to music.  While at Mustang the women always used music to help distract while performing.  Now, at home, the music still distracted me leaving me sexually frustrated.  Once I realized the connection I could turn off the radio.

I found I had taken so many parts of lovemaking for granted; touching, kissing, holding and time.  Spontaneity was now completely absent; pure performance had taken its place.  I forgot how to receive now that the aggressor in me was forced to be in charge. I had learned to always maintain a constant vigil during sex, making sure I was in control.

I wanted to let go, to once again not care about every little move I made or those I would forget to make.  I wanted to let the Buffy side of me completely go.  It was next to impossible to do in just a few days. 

One morning I found myself standing up in my own bedroom half asleep; just like in the line-up.  At that moment I realized my apartment doorbell sounded identical to the buzzer that announced the arrival of customers.  This was going to take time and a conscious effort, to wipe those traces of Buffy out of Sheila.  I hoped I would be able to, never expecting to be conditioned like Pavlov's dog.

On the final night of vacation I felt very uneasy.  I was expected to go back to Mustang.  I did not feel I was completely assured of my position in this "family", much less as a business partner.  I already decided to forgo the connection I wanted with love and Serge, to strictly go forward as a business deal.  I would still become a partner in the club by working at the Ranch.  Serge had proven himself unworthy of my love. 

My doubts about Serge were strongly pushed front and center when my landlord informed me he I owed my rent for the past month.  It had been due two weeks earlier.  I had given Serge a check before I left for Mustang to pay it on time.  When I confronted him, Serge gave me a song and dance about the check being in the mail, but I insisted he give me the cash to pay it, and then I cancelled the check.

I called the Caped Crusader.  “I need to ask a favor of you.”

“Of course, anything for you doll.”  

“I’m going to leave my key with the gal next door, would you come by, bring in my mail, and water the plants a couple of time a week?”

“You got it.  You need me to pay any bills or anything...rent?”

“No, I think I’m good until I come back, but one more thing...if you don’t mind.”  I laughed.

“Fire away...”  He laughed his easy laugh.

“ Could I call you some mornings, you know...when I’m at the bar after work, so we can talk?  I don’t want to call Serge.”

“Anytime doll, just let the phone ring a few times, I’ll probably be asleep.  Call me collect if you want.”

The absolute last thing I needed was to worry about my apartment, while I was away.  I realized I would definitely have to keep an eye on things myself, no more trusting Shelly and Serge with my bills. 

I agreed to go back to Mustang; feeling this would be the final opportunity to make things right.  Although I had lost a great deal of faith in them, I still believed I had the moral high ground, and I was going to be getting something in return.  This was going to be strictly a business opportunity now.

The next morning Shelly and I rode to the airport together in a taxicab.  As we boarded the plane the two of us stopped on the stairs, turned, and began to wave goodbye.  Not to Serge, he had not come with us, “Seeing us leave would be too hurtful to him.”   This time, we were waving goodbye to Shelly and Sheila.  It was, by far, a lot easier to do this time.

Candy and Buffy settled in for the short flight.  She had no idea just how different things would be.  I had a plan formulating.