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Blanche's Smoking Hot Birthday

Title: Blanche's Smoking Hot Birthday
Author: Kat Lee
Dedicated To: My beloved Drew (Happy late birthday, my darling Captain!!!)
Fandom: Golden Girls
Character/Pairing: Blanche/Dorothy
Rating: PG-13/T
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 944
Date Written: 16 January 2018
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.





Blanche’s gaze rips away from her own reflection and her new seat of earrings as she hears a siren blaring down her street. She rushes to her window and pushes away the blinds just as the fire truck is coming to a halt beneath her window. People are already beginning to gather and gawk, and why shouldn’t they? Her home isn’t on fire!

Blanche’s mouth drops open as she realizes that it’s no fireman emerging from the truck. The tall, handsome woman is dressed from head to toe in a fireman’s gear, but she’d know her anywhere with just one glimpse at her face behind the visor. She shoves open her window and hollers out loud for the whole community to hear, “Dorothy Zbornak! What are you doing?!”

Dorothy doesn’t answer her. She doesn’t even look at her as she sets the ladder carefully from her truck to her window and begins to carefully climb it. Blanche stands there, her mouth open but no words emerging, completely dumbfounded as her secret lover climbs to her window in the bright light of day. “D-Dorothy?!” she finally manages to gasp when they’re face to face.

Dorothy’s voice sounds muffled by the fireman’s helmet, but Blanche can still make out her words. “You wanted this, Blanche. I’m giving it to you. Happy Birthday!”

“Ah -- Ah -- Ah -- “

“Are you going to help me in, or are you just going to stand there, stammer, and gawk?”

“Ah nevah asked you for this, Dorothy!” Blanche cries in protest, but she nonetheless holds out her hands and backs away from the window.

“Y-You don’t even need the ladder!” Blanche gasps, struggling for some way to put into words just how crazy this whole scene is.

“Yes, I did to make that fantasy of yours come true.”

“What fantasy?” Blanche questions, looking as confused as she feels.

Dorothy removes the helmet and drops it unceremoniously onto Blanche’s floor. “How many times have you told us how you dream about firemen coming into your bedroom blazing? Climbing into your window? Saving you? Sweeping you away from the fire?”

“But, Dorothy, mah room is not on fire!”

“It could be.”

Blanche narrows her eyes. “Dorothy Zbornak -- “ she starts.

“One,” Dorothy cuts her off, counting on her fingers, “you wanted a fireman. I’ve heard about those dreams three times in the last week alone, Blanche.”

“It’s just this silly novel Ah’m readin’ -- “

“Two, you wanted me out of the closet. Three, you wanted me to stop hiding. Four, you wanted me to say I love you.” She pops an eyebrow at her as she questions, “What tells the whole city I love you more than borrowing a fire truck and speeding to your room when it’s not on fire?”

“Ah -- Ah -- “ Blanche is clearly flustered. She waves a hand at her flushed face. “You . . . You did this all for me?!”

“I certainly didn't do it for myself!”

“Ah just -- Ah nevah saw -- “ A new thought occurs to her, and she narrows her eyes at her. “How did you get the firetruck, Dorothy?” she demands. “Ah’m not going to have to do favors for th’ whole police department to keep you out o’ jail, am Ah?”

“You better not be! And no, not because of the firetruck! I borrowed that from a friend.”

“Ah didn’t know you had firemen friends -- “

“You’d be surprised what people who want to stay in the closet are willing to do to help others of our kind, especially if they’re afraid those other people might slip up and tell somebody the truth about their relationship.”

“Dorothy Zbornak!” A grin finally breaks out over Blanche’s beautiful face. “You blackmailed for me?!”

“Blanche, I not only blackmailed for you. I rode a firetruck here for you! I just showed everybody,” Dorothy cries, flinging a hand toward Blanche’s open window, “how I care about you! What do I -- “

This time, her words are broken off as Blanche hurries to her, flings her arms around her, and finally presses her mouth to hers. Her kiss is hungry, passionate, and deepens quickly with her tongue sliding into Dorothy’s mouth. Dorothy’s right: She may be stunned at her lover’s delivery, but this is all she’s waited for for years! She moans even as she kisses Dorothy harder until Dorothy, too, lets a moan slip.

Blanche deepens their kiss even more as she begins to push the fireman’s uniform off of her lover. The jacket is heavy, but she’s had experience getting into these uniforms before. She’s had every type of man and only one woman her entire life, but this woman is all she wants, all she needs, all she’s ever going to want or love or crave again. As the last of Dorothy’s borrowed uniform drops to Blanche’s floor, Dorothy wraps her strong arms around her beloved belle and lifts her. She carries her to her bed and proceeds to make love to her, showing her not just with her actions in public but with every touch of her fingertips, every stroke of her tongue, every press of her body against Blanche’s, and with every, even miniscule action in private how much she loves her.

As if from far away, Blanche can already hear chattering voices. The whole community is going to be swimming with questions and gossip, but she doesn’t care. Right now, her bed, her body, feels like it’s on fire, and there’s only one woman capable of stroking or putting out that fire. Let the whole of Miami talk! She doesn’t care! All she cares about is the wonderful woman, the love they share, and this momentous day, her very best birthday yet!


The End

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