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This story is a continuation of I?m Dating Our Mailgirl. The 1st 8 chapters of that story should be read first for context. All characters are 18 or older and are completely fictitious as is Seahawk Industries. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional.

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THE FLIGHT HOME

9 and I selected two seats on the next to the last row. There were only two seats on our side of the aisle. We took advantage of the semi-privacy to hold hands and to exchange kisses and caresses. There was actually a beverage service so late at night. The attractive stewardess, Jill, asked if we wanted anything. She mentioned orange and tomato juice and at the risk of being a typical airline passenger jerk, I asked if she had any cranberry juice.

?Funny you should mention that. In honor of Thanksgiving week, we did stock some of that.?

?Now, the big question. Do you have any Southern Comfort??

She let out the biggest laugh. ?Why Miss Scarlett, I don?t know nothing ?bout no Southern Comfort.? Her mock Butterfly McQueen impression was appreciated by me, certainly, but also 9. ?Bless you little southern hearts, we actually do stock some on all flights to Atlanta.?

I looked at Jill, at 9, and back to Jill. ?We?ll have two Scarlett O?Haras!?

?I don?t think we have any limes. Will lemon juice do??

I smiled, ?Like Scarlett O?Hara, we must make sacrifices to survive.? Jill finished the drink service and brought back two Southern Comfort miniatures, a can of cranberry juice and, with a triumphal flair, two large lime wedges.

She held up the limes. ?Look what I found!? She prepared the drinks and handed them to us. I started singing Tara?s Theme

?My own true love,

My own true love,

At last I?ve found you,

My own true love.?

I looked longingly into 9?s eyes and kissed her as I finished. Jill actually joined me for the last 2 lines.

We each took a sip and Jill asked, ?Are you two ladies from Atlanta??

?I am originally, but I moved away 6 years ago when I went off to college. I?m bringing my friend home for Thanksgiving.?

She observed, ?So your family is accepting?? 9 and I glanced at each other and had quizzical looks on our faces.

?Accepting??

?Yes, of your lesbianism.?

We exchanged glances again, ?Is it that obvious??

?Well, the hand holding gave me a clue, but the kisses were a dead giveaway. The DEEP kisses.?

I looked bashful, ?Sorry, I hope we didn?t offend anyone.?

?Sweetie, it?s 1:00 AM on a red eye flight and you?re sitting on the back row like a couple of teenagers in a drive-in movie.? We introduced ourselves. When I introduced 9, I didn?t get any reaction from Jill. ?You?re a mailgirl, aren?t you?? 9 swung her arm around to show the 9 in a mock exhibition display. ?I fly this route a lot so I?m familiar with what?s going on at Seahawk. I?ll bet you?ve got a few tales to tell. So if you?ve been away awhile,? she addressed me, ?are you familiar with the Atlanta lesbian bar scene??

?Not really, but we would like to hit a couple.? I told her we would be staying in Roswell. ?The Tongue