Part 2

The scent of cinnamon too compelling, she stretched an arm toward the tray only to have her hand slapped away. Dutifully putting it in her lap, she frowned toward the younger woman standing behind the broad kitchen counter wearing a bright red apron with tiny Santa's printed all over it. "What's up with you Angie? You've been bit-- er, grumpy since I walked through the door."

Her sister shook a spatula at her menacingly. "Do not touch my gingerbread cookies. They're for the party Saturday."

"I know that, but you couldn't spare just one? I could be your taste tester." Lips pressed together, Angela shook her head. Dylan waited a moment, hoping that she would begin cooling off like the enticing baked goods. "So what's got you in such a bad mood?" She said nothing. "Angie?" The spatula slamming on the counter made Dylan jump in her seat.

"You." Untying her apron Angela tossed it on the floor. "Damn it Dylan, you're the one responsible for my bad mood!"

"Uh, what did I do this time?"

"Just when I think you're finally growing up, you backlash."

"What?" Her craving for cookies beginning to evaporate, Dylan thought back on the week. However, she couldn't think of anything that she could have done to upset her sister.

"You're a hypocrite." Dylan's confusion prompted her to elaborate. "You're doing the same thing that Celeste did. You're handing that baby off to someone else."

Confusion took a sharp turn toward annoyance. "You make Robin sound like a used shirt! I am not handing her off. She's going to be adopted by her maternal aunt and I think that's in her best interest. Layne has experience, which I'm lacking." During their meeting with an adoption attorney earlier in the week, it was decided that the simplest way to go about adopting Robin would be for Layne to temporarily move to San Francisco since the city was Robin's birthplace. The finalization of her adoption could take months, even a year but Layne was willing to stay in California regardless of the amount of time. Dylan could hardly contain her pleasure that her niece wouldn't be leaving so soon after all.

"Experience is something that you have to gain and Dylan that's just what you've been doing for the last few weeks and now you're ready to throw in the towel. Hey, let Robin's other aunt take her across the United States so you can get back to doing what you do best."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you can revert to being playgirl extraordinaire. You're experienced with that aren't you?" Someone with the IQ of a pebble couldn't miss the sarcasm in Angela's words. "I'm sure all those nightclubs and women have missed you coming around. Just dust off your dental dams and go for it."

Too wary of what might spew from her mouth if she allowed herself to respond, Dylan stood up and exited the kitchen. Less than a minute later her sister heard the front door slam shut.

~~~~~~~~~~

Purposefully avoiding anything on the vast buffet table that she was aware of her sister making, Dylan selected a few appetizers to cover the Christmas tree on her decorative paper plate. Walking up beside her, her other sibling dipped a red tortilla chip in the warm container of spinach dip, strands of cheese stretching as he brought the chip to his lips, inserting the entire triangle with a loud crunch. It made Dylan smile, thinking about how much Reggie could eat. It wasn't unusual for him to have three servings during dinner. Reggie Sr. used to joke about his son eating them out of house and home.

"Try Uncle Phillip's spinach dip sis. It's great." Proving that he enjoyed it, Reggie coated another chip. After Dylan mimicked him, he asked if she was okay. Swallowing, she nodded. "You sure? You've been quiet and you're usually the life of the party." She wasn't even wearing her Santa hat. Every year when their mother had her traditional Christmas Eve party, Dylan put on the red and white hat.

Sighing, Dylan picked up her plate and moved toward the empty stairs with her brother. Seated on the fifth stair up, she balanced the plate on her lap. "Angie and I had a disagreement Thursday, which I ended up walking out on. We haven't spoken since."

"Are you too proud to make the first move toward reconciling?"

"I'm not proud." Fingers splayed, Dylan put a hand on her chest. "I'm the one owed an apology here. She thinks the reason I've conceded to Celeste's sister adopting Robin is so that I can have my bachelorette lifestyle back and that is total bullshit."

"I never said you had to apologize." He swiped a buffalo wing from her plate, tearing the tender meat from the bone as he spoke. "Just go find her and open the lines of communication. If you can talk to me again after what I did talking to Angie should be a piece of cake. You know how she's apt to put her foot in her mouth without thinking first. I'm sure she didn't mean it."

"That's right little bro. She didn't mean it." A couple of dark heads simultaneously looked up toward the woman standing before them. Reggie appeared sheepish that he had been caught talking about his sister behind her back while Dylan tried to appear unconcerned by their visitor. When Reggie started to apologize Angela immediately stopped him. He was correct. She did have a habit of using her vocal capabilities without consulting her brain.

So the two women could have some privacy, Reggie left to invade the buffet while Angela occupied his place on the stair. Removing a small gift-wrapped package from her pocket she gave it to Dylan. "Merry Christmas Dyl."

Turning the silver wrapped box in her hands, she resisted the urge to shake it to guess what could have been inside. This would show enthusiasm. Hey, she never proclaimed to not be stubborn, just not proud. "You're a day early."

"It's your Christmas Eve present then. Open it."

A couple of tugs on the red ribbon and it easily slipped from the box. Pulling the top off, Dylan pushed back the tissue paper inside, revealing a white gold heart shaped locket encrusted with tiny diamonds down its center on both sides. One side was engraved with her initials D.T. A thin white gold chain was attached to the delicate locket.

"Angie…it's beautiful." Putting her plate aside, she wiped her hands thoroughly on a napkin before touching the jewelry. "But it looks too expensive. I can't--"

"Yes, you can and you will," her sister interjected. "And don't even think about asking me how much it cost. Open it."

"I already did."

"The locket moron." Again Angela showed her talent for lacing her insults with much affection.

Unfazed, Dylan gently opened the polished heart finding that one picture had already been inserted. A headshot of her youngest niece smiled back at her, a smile so grand that her little pink gums were visible. Removing the jewelry from the box, Angela offered to put it on her sister. When she finished, she hugged her, gently kissing her cheek.

"No matter what happens Dyl, this way Robin will always be with you. What I said the other day was stupid and so erroneous. I understand that you're only thinking about Robin's needs. If you ask me you're the world's best auntie."

Dylan smiled through the tears, which managed to sneak out as she fingered the locket hanging around her neck. "You're just saying that because you're biased."

"I can be where family is concerned, but it's true. I'm sorry Dylan. I acted like an idiot."

The older woman shrugged as she moved in for another hug. "It's forgotten."

~~~~~~~~~~

"Have they freaked you out this much?" She asked sounding amused.

Layne looked over her shoulder questioningly. "Hm?"

Closing the sliding glass door all the way, Dylan walked toward her. "It's cold as a witch's ti--breast out here yet you seem to enjoy standing on my Mom's back porch. Just wondered if the family was freaking you any." She grinned. "Can't blame you--there are plenty of Christmas spirits floating around inside and I'm not talking about the supernatural kind."

The blonde chuckled. "It's a hearty party. There's supposed to be spirits. But to answer your question, no I'm not freaked in the least. Just wanted a moment." When Dylan asked if she wanted her to go, Layne shook her head no. "I don't remember you having that on earlier." She indicated the locket and chain duo. "It's beautiful."

"That's what I said. Angie gave it to me. Check the inside."

Undoing the tiny clasp holding the two sides of the heart together, Layne smiled upon seeing an adorable face. "Even more beautiful." Dylan readily agreed as the younger woman admired the picture a moment more before closing the heart. Her hands coming to rest on the brunette's chest, Layne searched her face. "Is this what you want Dylan?"

Although she hadn't the faintest idea what Layne meant, her heartbeat picked up speed. Surely the muralist could feel it thumping against her palm. "Want?"

"Me to adopt Robin. I can tell that you love her and you were so happy when I voiced my choice to stay in San Francisco until it's official."

"What I want is what's best for Robin and that is you. Like you said when you and she finally return to New York we'll keep in close contact." Glancing downward, Dylan realized that she had placed her hands on either side of Layne's waist. When she looked up she noticed her cousin observing them through the sliding glass door. She raised an inquisitive brow so he opened the door enough to stick his head through, a grin forming.

"Ladies, based on your intimate position I'm assuming that you've already seen it." Their expressions led him to retrieve his assumption. "Look up." A pair of gray and blue eyes looked toward the ceiling of the covered porch, quickly locating the sprig of mistletoe hanging above them. Every year once Thanksgiving was over, Madeline brought out the mistletoe, putting bits of it strategically around her house--even in the garage. His grin widening, Jimmy informed the pair stuck under one of Madeline's sentimental traps to pucker up. "You've gotta do it. It's a tradition." When his cousin sent him a frown, Jimmy chuckled as he left to rejoin the party while wondering if they would really go through with it.

Layne and Dylan looked at one another, each unsuccessfully trying to read the others' mind. Dylan found herself highly attentive when the smaller woman licked her lips, her heart seemingly racing twice as much as it was minutes ago. How can she make my heart race so fast? I barely know her! "Layne we don't--" She ceased speech when petite hands slowly slid upward until their fingers linked around the nape of her neck.

"To my knowledge it's bad luck for two people standing underneath mistletoe to ignore the tradition of sharing a kiss," Layne commented in a hushed voice.

She felt a rush of heat move through her although she should have been chilled. "And we don't need anymore bad luck Layne."

"No Dylan, we certainly don't." She paused. "Of course that could be a superstition."

"Just to be on the safe side though…" She unknowingly gripped Layne's waist more, pulling her closer.

Layne nodded, already closing her eyes in preparation. "Right." Dylan's forehead lightly bumped against hers as she lowered her head. Three seconds, which felt closer to an hour passed by before their lips joined with each woman presuming that the obligatory kiss wouldn't last more than a second--two seconds at the most. Instant attraction lengthened their calculations.

Layne's fingers stroked up and down her mistletoe partner's neck while their lips engaged in a leisurely dance. Although their mouths were partially opened, neither woman brought her tongue into play yet there weren't any complaints. The kiss was electrifying enough without further exploration. A gentle brief nibble on the taller woman's full bottom lip that had her eliciting a tiny moan and Layne pulled back, allowing her fingers to brush against a warmed nape a few moments more before forcing herself to put her hands inside her jacket pockets. She missed the contact when Dylan in return let go of her waist.

"We should um," a flustered comic pointed toward the house, "go back inside before we get hypothermia or something…"

Is that all you have to say? Obviously she had been the only one affected by the kiss. Layne concealed her disappointment behind a small smile. "You're right. Let's go." She was about to move toward the glass doors until the other woman touched her shoulder.

"If I wasn't positive before I am now." Unsurprisingly, Layne stared, Dylan imagining the large question mark that could have been looming above her head. "That wasn't a Celeste Anderson type of kiss."

Layne continued to stare, cocking her head to the side. "And how should I take this information?"

Her mouth threatening to curve into a smile, Dylan squeezed the shoulder below her hand. "On a scale of 1-10, that was a mind-blowing 12 point Layne Bishop type of kiss whereas a Celeste kiss registers around a 7. Just thought you should know that." Winking at her, she took the speechless woman's hand and began to lead her toward the house. "Come on, I'll get us a couple of Christmas spirits!"

~~~~~~~~~~

December 25th 2005

Robin made out like a bandit on Christmas morning because the majority of the presents underneath the six-foot tall tree her aunties picked out three days ago belonged to her. If she could speak she would have denied that she was spoiled though--just supremely well loved. Also if she could talk, she would have claimed that the present she was currently playing with was her favorite. From both her Aunt Dylan and Layne it was the greatest!

Laying on her back on top of the cushiony activity mat containing a variety of animals, Robin was busy playing with the colorful chimes hanging above, fascinated by the soft sounds they made when she kicked them. Dylan and Layne cheering her on had her feeling encouraged to kick the chimes even more. She just loved an audience.

After a few more minutes of kicking, Robin decided to give her legs a rest as she noticed the other toys hanging from the padded crossbars. The vibrant parakeet caught her interest the most, so she reached up and gave it an experimental squeeze. When it squeaked widened blue eyes stared for a thoughtful moment before Robin gained enough courage to try again. Of course the parakeet squeaked again--she gurgled with delight. Her aunties shared a grin, glad that they had selected the perfect baby gym for their niece.

The only presents left under the brightly lit tree belonged to Dylan's family members, which she, Layne and Robin would see later on when they went to her mother's house for Christmas dinner. Dylan eyed the tree, switching her attention to Layne just along enough to confirm that she was preoccupied playing with the baby. Leaning toward the tree she slid her hand beneath the tree's skirt and pulled out a small package she hid there Friday. Without a word she put in front of Layne, lightly clearing her throat to get the other woman's attention.

Layne glanced toward Dylan and then her eyes became riveted on the gift, which she could wrap her hand around. A smirk was sent Dylan's way. "Thought we weren't buying gifts for each other?" This had been Dylan's bright idea and despite wanting to buy her something for Christmas although she knew next to nothing about her, Layne went along with it. She learned of the comic's birthday, so when her 36th rolled around she would definitely receive a present from her no matter if she wanted one or not.

Dylan shrugged having the audacity to grin. "Yeah, but I couldn't not get you anything. Plus, technically it's not a gift."

"Really?" The blonde's smirk broadened. "'Cause it suspiciously resembles a gift. It's in holiday gift-wrap paper with a bow stuck to the top and has a tag reading 'To: Layne, From: Dylan'. You don't consider that a gift?" Dylan shook her head no. "Dylan…"

"C'mon Layne, open your not so much of a gift. If it makes you feel any better I only paid $3.62 for it."

"Really?" Layne placed the present in the palm of her hand.

"Yep. Go ahead."

Curiosity winning, she began to reveal her gift. Plucking the lid from the white box Layne unexpectedly pulled out a key attached to a keychain with a quip on it. Softly chuckling, she read it aloud, glad that Robin wasn't old enough to grasp its true meaning, "Birthdays only come once a year…aren't you glad you're not a birthday?" Catching Dylan's sassy grin, she shook her head in amusement. "Ms. Tate you are naughty, but I can't wait to put my other keys on this ring."

"Doesn't that make you naughty too?"

Layne pretended not to hear the question. "So what is the key to?"

Dylan tapped the carpet, which she was seated on. "My apartment. I'm sure you've achieved a steady great income from your occupation and can afford it, but why stay in a hotel when you can live here for free? Until you and Robbie are ready to go to New York." Adding that last part left a sour taste in her mouth.

Touched by her thoughtfulness, Layne leaned toward her for a brief hug. Dylan found that the only reason she silently complained about that hug was due to the briefness of it. Fiddling with the keychain, Layne regretfully shook her head. "Thanks so much Dylan, but I can't stay here."

"Why not?" Was the other woman's expected response.

"I'm filing for adoption of Robin and a crucial part of that process is having in home investigations and home studies performed to ascertain if my home will be beneficial toward the child I seek to adopt, so that gives me a clue that I need to find my own place although I already own a home in New York. However, since I'm filing for adoption in California, I think I should secure a place here. I've been perusing apartments in this area."

"Did you find anything?"

"Not yet. I don't think the holidays is the wisest time to go apartment hunting, so it's best to wait until after the 1st."

"Well, until you find what you're looking for, my invitation remains open." Dylan tried a smile on her. "Robin and I would love to have you." Grabbing her gift, she held the tip of the key in her hand as she swung the keychain back and forth in front of Layne's face as though she were trying to hypnotize her. "You want to live with Robin and I. You want to live with Robin and I…yes, you do. Your eyes are getting heavy…very heavy…"

"Okay, okay." Starting to laugh, Layne retrieved her new key. "Before you make me slip into a trance, yes I want to live here for a little while. Thank you Dylan."

"You're welcome."

"Pardon me a sec." Effortlessly getting to her feet, Layne headed to the couch where her thick roomy jacket lay. Because of what it contained, she was glad that Dylan hadn't attempted to hang it up in the closet upon her arrival earlier that morning. Okay, I'm a hypocrite. So shoot me, Layne thought as she peeled back the side of her jacket to find a slim rectangular present about the size of a 13-inch television screen. She just hadn't felt right not getting Dylan a thing for Christmas when the comic had given her so much in such a little amount of time. The trunk of her rental car held presents for Jimmy, Madeline, Angela and her children.

Returning to the area littered in wrinkled gift-wrap from Robin's presents, Layne gently placed another in front of Dylan. Mimicking the blonde's earlier smirk, she traced the tag attached reading in alternating green and red ink, 'To: Dylan, From: Layne'. "Well, isn't that the pot--"

"Calling the kettle blah, blah, blah." Layne hadn't forgotten how to smirk. "You cheated and so did I. We're even. Please open it. If it makes you feel any better I only paid $3.00 for it. Not that I'm one to keep tabs, but I beat you by sixty-two cents." She was blabbering because she was nervous about the reaction she would receive concerning her gift. She just hoped that Dylan didn't realize it.

More paper joined the carpet as Dylan unearthed her present. She was unable to immediately speak once she held the simple solid wood oak frame by its edges as she gazed at the watercolor painting protected behind a sheet of spotless glass. A portrait that didn't extend much further than their shoulders, was of herself and Robin. Painted so distinctly, it could be mistaken for a photograph at a glance. In the portrait, big blue eyes gazed up at Dylan as she looked down at the small face, lips curved in a tender smile.

"Ah, Layne," Dylan began, her voice growing soft. She looked up, eyes filling with tears. "I'm assuming that you gave me the cost of the frame because the painting," she shuddered, eyes falling on the smaller person in the portrait and then switching to the baby having a grand time inside her gym, "it's…priceless."

Finding an interesting piece of lint on the carpet, Layne ducked her head, her cheeks suffusing with red. "So you like it?" She asked, sounding timidly adorable to Dylan's ears.

"Sweetie, I love it." Before Layne could fully raise her head, she found herself wrapped in a heartwarming embrace.


~~~~~~~~~~

December 31st 2005

Having decided to stay in on one of the most exciting nights of the year and not disappointed by their choice, Dylan and Layne munched on the bowl of popcorn settled between them as they watched Dick Clark's New Years Rockin' Eve, although occasionally channel hopping to other televised celebrations. Upon seeing him for the first time since his stroke last year, Dylan and Layne cheered as a courageous Dick Clark returned as partial host, in their opinion making a fantastic comeback considering what he endured.

Layne looked down at the bundle seated in her lap, dark head tucked against her bosom as she slept, unable to resist the Sandman so she could ring in the New Year with her aunties.

"Someone's sleeping," Layne quietly spoke. "I'm going to put her in her crib. Be back in a minute."

"Okay." Putting the little amount left of puffed kernels on the table Dylan scooted over to collect her New Year's kiss early from her niece. "Sleep tight you little party pooper," she whispered, gaining a smile from Layne.

The brunette soon learned that Layne's idea of a minute was more than the customary sixty seconds. In two and a half minutes she would be ringing in the New Year alone (which she'd never done before) as the gigantic Waterford crystal ball settled at the bottom of its tower and the immense crowd standing in frosty Times Square went wild at the arrival of 2006. Granted she and Layne hadn't conversed about what they would do at the stroke of midnight, but Dylan thought at the very least she could get a hug and kiss on the cheek. Instead it was just she and a bottle of Mumms champagne bathing amidst crushed ice in a bucket she swiped from a hotel during her last vacation.

One minute remained. She looked over her shoulder down the hall toward Robin's closed bedroom door. Either Layne was inside still getting her settled in or she was…well somewhere else in the spacious apartment. Okay, so maybe she didn't want to celebrate the birth of a new year with her. That was all right. Dandy even. Dylan grabbed a decorative pillow, wrapping her arms around it tightly as she quietly sulked. She would kiss the damn pillow at midnight then! She stared at the television, suddenly envious of every happy couple in every part of the world celebrating New Years Eve together.

The countdown commenced. 10…9…8…7…6…5…

A pair of warm palms touched her shoulders. Instead of jumping out of her skin at the unforeseen contact, she pushed against the back of the couch. 4…

Releasing her death grip on the pillow, Dylan looked up; feeling like this moment was taking place in slow motion. 3…

She noticed the gray eyes she had been wishing to see again for the last couple of minutes. 2…

Standing behind the couch, Layne lowered her head, heart pounding against her chest as she vaguely thought of what she was about to do. 1…

Dylan wordlessly closed her eyes, heart pounding against her chest as she anticipated the feel of Layne's mouth, having thought about it since their 'required' mistletoe kiss. HAPPY NEW YEAR was jovially shouted through the television's speakers while the pair in Dylan's living room rejoiced with the most sensual upside-down kiss known to man. Okay, well the most sensual upside-down kiss known to them at least.

Like the mistletoe kiss no tongue was involved, yet being able to nibble on each other's bottom lip concurrently was a fascinating experience. Putting her hands on the back of Layne's head, Dylan extended the kiss until half past 12:01. 'Happy New Year' was whispered against her lips and once she was able to speak, she responded. Smiling, Layne walked around the couch, uncorked the bottle of champagne and poured them each a glass, the foam coming dangerously close to spilling over as she handed Dylan a flute.

"Should we toast?" She asked, sitting beside the taller woman, her flute poised.

"Absolutely." Dylan raised her glass of chilled champagne. "To a bright 2006 filled with great health, love, happiness, triumph," switching the flute to her left hand, she reached for Layne's hand with the other, "new friendships…and family." She paused linking their fingers together thumb stroking the back of Layne's hand. "You're adopting Robin yet I want you to know that the Tate family is in the process of adopting you as well. You're not gaining just a niece but an entire clan. You see Layne, you have more family than you realized."

Tears sliding down her face, Layne swallowed around the lump in her throat. "I don't know what to say…" She appeared astonished yet at the same time jubilant.

"Say cheers." Beaming, Dylan put her flute near the blonde's.

Layne dutifully clinked their glasses. "Cheers."

Thighs nearly touching, the pair silently watched the party unfolding on television as people celebrated the beginning of a near year. Five minutes into it, Layne turned toward her companion.

"Hey Dylan?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you for considering me as a part of your family. If I had a lifetime to do so, I couldn't adequately explain to you just how much that means to me. I feel so blessed to have met you all." She briefly closed her eyes when lips pressed to her cheek.

~~~~~~~~~~

January 12th 2006

Pacing through her living room with the phone pressed against her ear, Dylan prayed that her call would be one of those taken that evening on the nationally broadcasted radio station. Surely about to wear a hole through her carpet, she thought about how imperative it was that she be able to speak via the airwaves. Perhaps this wouldn't work--there was a great chance that it wouldn't-- but she had to give it a try. They had to reach Celeste.

The letter that she delivered along with her daughter on Dylan's doorstep November 26th wasn't enough to establish termination of her parental rights. Reggie had already signed the necessary papers to terminate his rights, however, Celeste's attendance and signature were required in order for her sister to proceed with filing a petition to adopt Robin.

In the event that Celeste could not be located a judge could terminate her rights in her absence. That was where their problem lay. Celeste's rights remained in effect until six months had passed from the last time that she had contact with her child, which was the end of November. Once the six-month period was completed her rights would be stripped due to abandonment.

Dylan had been busy the last week. She took out boldfaced ads in several newspapers and the Pennysaver asking her ex-girlfriend to contact her and even managed to track down a couple of her old friends who resided in San Francisco. Of course neither of these panned out because they hadn't seen or heard from Celeste since early 2005. However, obtaining Dylan's landline and cell phone number they promised to call if they learned anything.

She was a desperate step away from printing Celeste's picture on a stack of paper and distributing them around the S.F. area. Although that probably wouldn't do them anything good if she had truly left town, which Dylan was certain of. She could be anywhere…she could be relaxing kicking back on a white sand beach in Argentina and if she were in Argentina what Dylan was now trying to accomplish would be a waste of time. And if she were in Texas it could also be a waste of time if she wasn't currently listening to the radio and to that particular station.

Shit, I'd have better luck locating a straight republican living within the Castro district. The brunette swiftly revised her internal musings. Or actually just any republican. The music abruptly ending brought Dylan out of her thoughts. A producer from the radio station began speaking; alerting her that she had been selected as their next on air caller depending on her choice of topic. Getting permission on what she wished to talk about or actually whom she wished to talk to, Dylan waited, hoping that she wouldn't sound like an idiot during her live radio debut.

She heard the host Martin 'Marty' Withers give a short introduction, welcoming her to his informal talk show fittingly named Chew the Fat. She never heard of Marty until her Internet research that morning led her to his widely broadcasted show, but she kept her fingers crossed that Chew the Fat could help.

"So Dylan I hear that you're searching for an ex who has gone astray?" The 32-year-old prematurely silver haired man started, (Dylan saw pictures of him on the radio station's website) his accent indicating that he originally hailed from England. A brief look at his bio told the comic that he had been residing in Florida for twelve years, where he obtained his first job as a radio disc jockey.

Dylan nodded, shortly remembering that she had to speak. "Yes. I need her to sign some important documents. I really appreciate you giving me this opportunity to hopefully reach her through your show. Thanks so much Marty." She felt the host's smile through his reply.

"You're welcome Dylan. Go right ahead."

"Just talk?" The pacing resumed in earnest.

"Just talk." Marty softly chuckled. "Or as I like to say chew the fat. Tell her what she needs to know. Pretend like she's the only one who's listening."

"Okay." She nodded again, this time to herself. "Celeste I hope you're out there listening somewhere because I really need to talk with you in person. I realize that you said in your letter that you were gone for good, but I need you back in San Francisco--only for a bit. It's a long story, but I'll keep it short here."

Dylan ran long fingers through her air while deeply inhaling. "You have a twin sister that you were never told about and she coincidentally resurfaced last month. She was placed for adoption when she was a baby because your bio parents weren't able to care for you both. Anyway, Layne wants to adopt and take Robin back to her state. She already loves her like she was her own daughter. That's where you come in. She's unable to continue with the adoption process until you sign away your parental rights. If you don't she'll have to wait until June because the law states that a biological parents' rights can't be forcibly terminated until they've been intentionally missing for six months.

"Celeste you put your newborn in my care and now I think it's best for her to be in the care of her Aunt Layne who is capable of providing her with everything that she needs. She's such an amazing, loving, thoughtful person with a heart of pure gold despite having so many obstacles to overcome in her life. And I'm sincerely not trying to be callous when I say that she's twice the woman you and I could only dream of being. I'm begging you Celeste--please, please help. Do this one thing for Robin. She deserves this chance at a happy stable life. Your signature, your blessing could make that happen." When five seconds passed without his caller speaking, the host asked if she was done. "Yes Marty."

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do Dylan. I'm going to repeat your speech to Celeste at the beginning of Chew the Fat everyday until you two make contact, which I'm positive you will. When you do find your baby's mama just call and let me know and I'll stop playing it."

Dylan had to chuckle at the 'baby's mama' comment. "Thank you Marty. That's appreciated."

"Is there anything else you'd like to say?"

She gave the question a moment's though. "No. That about covers it."

"Alright. Well, we're taking a brief commercial break after I play a song. Would you like to request something Dylan?"

Her tongue was too quick for her brain to censor it. "Evil Woman seems appropriate," she muttered, not really believing that the host could clearly understand her. Unfortunately, Dylan detected the melody leading into Electric Light Orchestra's groovy semi classical seventies hit before she could complete her next blink. She wasn't able to tell Marty that she didn't honestly mean for him to play the song. He wouldn't allow her to get another word in. Great Dylan. Beg her for help and then allude to her being an 'evil woman'. Just great. She'll come running back now.

"Thank you for your call Dylan and good luck to you. Ladies and gents…Celeste…this one is for you. Compliments of my new friend Dylan in San Francisco here is ELO's Evil Woman!"

You made a fool of me, but them broken dreams have got to end...

Hey woman, you got the blues, cos' you ain't got no one else to use.
There's an open road that leads nowhere, so just make some miles between here and there.
There's a hole in my head where the rain comes in,
You took my body and played to win,
Ha ha woman it's a crying shame,
But you ain't got nobody else to blame.

E-evil woman, e-evil woman, e-evil woman, e-e-vil woman.

~~~~~~~~~~

January 16th 2006

Dylan almost sloshed a bit of her extremely potent coffee onto the rapidly forming strip, which would soon appear in a profusion of newspapers when the doorbell rang in an otherwise eerily quiet apartment. Before she gained a tiny roommate whenever it was quiet she didn't refer to the silence as eerie. There just wasn't any noise. She had grown used to and relished the variety of sounds Robin made whenever she was awake.

Now she was spending more time in the apartment her Aunt Layne found and began renting last week, so the sounds were fewer. However, Dylan wasn't too heartbroken considering that the muralist's apartment was only one floor below hers. Talk about convenient for her 'Robin Fix'.

Dropping her pencil in a glass jar whose original purpose was for housing dill pickles, Dylan headed toward the door reaching it just as her visitor buzzed again. Throwing the door open she initially smiled brightly at the blonde standing on her welcome mat. It dimmed before either of them spoke.

Noticing, Dylan's visitor smiled anyway. "Good afternoon Dyl."

"You came."

Moving across the threshold she closed the door. Placing a hand on Dylan's chest, she flashed the beautiful face a grin. "Not lately babe, but if you're offering to help I'm very willing to participate."

Dylan purposefully took two steps backward so the unsolicited appendage couldn't touch her. "Cut the crap. The first thing you do is flirt with me?" Tugging her glasses off, she folded the arms, walking over to the coffee table to lay them there. "Much seemingly hasn't changed with you."

Her unexpected guest shrugged, following and inviting herself to sit on the couch since apparently no one else in the room would. "According to someone I am an evil woman, so…"

Dylan thought about offering an apology for the song played in Celeste's 'honor' yet dismissed the idea. Sharing the same space with her for five seconds and she was already irritated. "So you heard the live message from me?"

Celeste shook her head, which no longer held any traces of the strawberryish dye she was accustomed to wearing. Her hair color was now closer to that of Layne's, perhaps a shade lighter. "I've been working at a restaurant in a Vegas casino and another employee who's always listening to the radio told me about this woman named Dylan who was looking for her ex Celeste. She innocently mentioned it because that's my name and I don't think there are too many Celestes walking around as opposed to the Marys, Lisas and Sarahs of the world. She was tickled that Dylan wanted the host to play Evil Woman after she finished."

Looking so comfortable on her ex-girlfriend's couch, she folded one leg over the other, gray eyes gazing toward the high ceiling as she continued. "The next day--Friday-- I made sure I was tuned in when Chew the Fat came on and heard you for myself. Your story sounded so outlandish that I didn't have it in me to simply ignore you. That evening I used my tips to fill up my car, worked overtime on the weekend since I requested to have the next several days off and then started the drive here early this morning."

As though she believed there wasn't enough room on the couch for the both of them to sit, Dylan occupied its arm. "I'll give you outlandish, but it wasn't a story. Everything I said was the truth." Celeste proceeded to stare toward her for so long that the brunette had to will her body not to fidget under her unblinking perusal. "What? What are you thinking?"

"You never loved me, did you?" Celeste's voice sounded gentle, deceptively like her twin sister.

"Is that what you were thinking?"

"It's what I'm inquiring."

After a moments thought Dylan decided against sugarcoating her reply. "I cared for you, but no I was never in love with you. It didn't take long for me to figure out that I most likely never would be."

If Celeste was hurt by the admission she didn't show it. "I heard something in your voice on that radio show that never applied to me. Love. Love for Robin yes--that's no surprise-- but she wasn't the only one."

"I just met Layne if she's who you're talking about. It hasn't even been a full month yet."

An indecipherable expression flitted across Celeste's face. "Are you trying to convince yourself, me or the both of us?"

"Celeste…"

The petite blonde smiled, throwing her further off kilter than she had during the last few moments. "I'll sign whatever I need to. I want Robin to be happy as well. Now before this evil woman returns to sin city when will it be possible for me to meet my better half?"

~~~~~~~~~~

February 14th 2006

"Which tie?" One at a time she held each of the strips of silken cloth in front of her shirt. "Or should I even wear a tie? Too much?"

Seated on the older woman's bed, Angela felt like telling her that she could go naked, but that wouldn't be helpful. Never could she remember Dylan putting so much energy into choosing an outfit. This evening she had modeled a great deal of her wardrobe asking for Angela's opinion each time. She would be late for her own Valentine's date with hubby if her indecisive sibling didn't settle on something within the next thirty minutes.

Don't know why I'm here anyway. She's not really listening to me. "On a scale of 1-10 how casual is this date? A 1 being formal, 10 being super casual."

"It's a friendship date," Dylan corrected while scrutinizing the ties in her grasps.

"Okay, how would you rate your 'friendship' date?" Angela rolled her eyes. Not for the first time she wondered why they were making this so difficult. Were they that clueless that they were into each other? Little Robin had probably figured it out by now.

"A 7 or 8 I guess."

"What activities have you selected?"

"I made reservations for a dinner cruise." Although asked repeatedly over the last couple of weeks, she refused to tell Layne where they were going for Valentine's Day, citing that she wanted it to be a surprise. She just hoped that the muralist wasn't prone to seasickness. Just in case Dylan had made a trip to a pharmacy for medication.

"An evening cruise? I'm so jealous." Angela grinned, leaning back on her elbows as she appraised her sister again. Black slacks, a crimson button down blouse and the two ties in her hands. One was black with small red arrow struck hearts and the other black with an allover pattern of juicy red and pink kissing lips. In Angela's opinion a blaring no on the both of them. Before she could give voice to her opinion Dylan seemingly read her mind, tossing the themed ties back in her closet. She then told her to strip so removing the slacks and blouse Dylan put them back on a hanger.

Standing nearby in her underwear she watched Angela rifle through the clothes, frowning in concentration as she searched back and forth. "This cruise doesn't have a dress code? Like no jeans, t-shirts, shorts, or sandals allowed?"

"Who in their right mind would wear shorts and sandals on a winter cruise in San Francisco?"

Angela smirked. "I didn't hear an answer in that smartass rejoinder."

Dylan argued that her reply didn't fall under the category of smartass before she answered. "It's pretty casual from what I've read in the brochure. Fashionable jeans are fine--you know the kind without rips and holes, but I definitely read that shorts were prohibited."

"Jeans." Her younger sister counted seven pairs of jeans in the closet. Four were variations of blue, two black and a bold pair of stark white ones. Angela usually shied away from clothes with a majority of white in them, because it rarely took long for her to get some type of smudge or stain on them. No matter how careful she tried to be, it never failed. She was convinced that if she just sat in a chair all day dressed in her white clothing, she would still end up with dirt. However, perhaps Dylan could pull it off. Taking the jeans from the hanger Angela looked them over. They looked new.

"Bought those back in October because they were on a sale too good to pass up. Haven't worn them though."

Smiling, Angela tossed the pants in her direction. "You can break them in tonight. Now let's see…what top to wear?"

Dylan pulled on the boot cut jeans, which caused her legs to look longer than usual. She left them unzipped and unbuttoned at the low waist, waiting for her sister to pick out a shirt. "Not that red blouse I just had on?"

"No." Her search ended within the minute. "You don't have any pink blouses?" Angela's eyes strayed toward the dresser drawers as she wondered what clothes lay folded inside them.

"You know I'm not much of a pink lover." Checking her watch, Angela asked her when they had to board the cruise ship. "Boarding starts at 6:00. It leaves Fisherman's Wharf at 7:00."

Getting her cell phone from her purse, Angela called her significant other to let him know that she would be running a little late. When she suggestively mentioned that she would make it up to him with a couple of tiny details Dylan covered her ears and then her eyes for good measure.

Once the call ended Angela gave her upper arm a light slap. "It's safe now. The grownups are done talking naughty." As though mistrustful, Dylan slowly lowered her hands and raised her eyelids. Releasing a laugh, the younger woman grabbed her purse. "I'll be back in a few minutes. Stay put Dyl."

"Where're you going?" Half dressed she followed her into the living room.

At the front door Angela turned around. "You'll learn where I've been when I return big sissy." She snickered as she quickly left the apartment, quite certain that she heard a frustrated growl.


Removing her purchase from the shopping bag, Angela wielding a pair of scissors carefully snipped off the tag while her sister continued to protest about money being spent on her. She wanted to and had attempted to pay her back, but she stubbornly refused. It was her idea so Dylan would just have to accept the garment.

"Here you go." Angela put the new sweater on her lap. "Put that on, find some socks and shoes to go with, brush your hair and you're all set." She smiled when a pair of lips smooched her on the temple before uttering a soft thank you.

Two minutes later, Dylan was in the bathroom brushing her dark locks until they shined as she admired her sweater through the mirror. Even with the two shades of pink the turtleneck was gorgeous. Actually she felt fond of pink while swathed in the thick soft material. Alternating narrow and wider pink and white stripes ran horizontally across the sweater with the collar and cuffs all pink.

Dylan was putting her hair in a ponytail when the other woman walked into the bathroom deciding to use her sink for a chair. "Should have gotten her flowers. Didn't think about it earlier." How could she have forgotten when she spotted more than one person on the streets selling rose bouquets? I am a dumbass. No wonder I'm still alone at 35.

Spurting a dollop of cherry almond scented lotion into her palm, Angela began moisturizing her hands while sending her sibling a knowing look. "Flowers for a friendship date? Nah, I don't think that's necessary. You're not like Oliver. He bought Mom--" She bit her tongue too late. Oh well. She had to learn the truth sooner or later.

"Oliver? Mom? Flowers?" Confused, Dylan stared at her. "Who is this Oliver and why is he bringing our mother flowers on Valentine's Day?"

"Um, I should go. Have a date…" Angela was about to jump from the sink when the tall woman hurried between her legs, effectively thwarting her attempt to flee. Sighing, her mouth began to run like a refrigerator. "Remember the man who gave Robin plane rides at Mom's Christmas party? Sort of smelled like Old Spice with a hint of BenGay?"

An image of a kindly older gentleman wearing a green sweater with a large headshot of Santa Claus on the front appeared in her mind. "You mean the guy who looked like he could be George Clooney's dad or uncle?"

Angela snapped her fingers. "That's who he reminds me of! Dr. Ross." She then nodded. "Yes, him. He's been courting Mom since last July." She watched as Dylan's eyebrows shot upward. "Mom was worried about telling you because she didn't think you would be comfortable with the idea of her dating. Eventually she planned on telling you about Oliver though. He's the first man she's seen romantically since Daddy passed away. Three years she was alone, so I for one am so glad that she and Oliver found each other. Dyl he's a good man."

"He makes her happy?"

"Deliriously so. He's been wanting to meet you formally…as her boyfriend."

"Wow." Dylan shook her head, trying to absorb this. "Mom has a boyfriend. She's babysitting Robin and it's their first Valentine's." Madeline had been the reason that she decided to ask Layne to go out with her on a friendly Valentine's date. She said that it would give her the opportunity to spend quality time with her granddaughter and she didn't plan to let the baby go until the next morning--late morning. In fact, she might just wait until noon.

Speaking of the baby, Layne received a healthy dose of good news on the first day of February during her first home study visit with the social worker assigned to her case. Usually the home study portion of the adoption process where a social worker visited the home of the adoptive parent(s) and interviewed them, family members and ran thorough background checks could last three months, perhaps more. Afterward if the social worker believed that adoption with the family was in the best interest of the child, then they were placed in the home for a probationary period of six months while the social worker continued to make routine visits. If everything went accordingly, then after the six months had been completed the adoption would be finalized.

Fifteen minutes into the home study and Evangeline Porter concluded that they could skip this step of the adoption process, explaining that in most states including California of course, where a person is looking to adopt a family member their case could be treated with less formality. The social worker already completed a background check on Layne and found nothing that could exclude her as an adoptive parent. However, she had uncovered plenty of evidence that a few of Layne's foster parents had no business taking care (used loosely) of parentless minors. It infuriated her and broke her heart at the same time. Amazing that Layne hadn't allowed her first eighteen years to cast a huge dark shadow over her life. Despite hardships she had become a flourishing warmhearted individual. And in Evangeline's opinion she was the epitome of a survivor.

Moments into their talk which seemed closer to a tête-à-tête than a conventional interview, Evangeline had a hunch that Layne Bishop, identical twin of Robin's biological mother would make the perfect parent for the baby. In sixteen years as a social worker, her hunches had to date never failed her. She didn't need a three-month home study, so they could advance right to the probationary period. By August Layne could legally be Robin's new mommy.

Angela started to smile. "Oliver is going over her house to cook them dinner. Robin should be excited. She loves that plane game where he flies her around."

"Huh. I'm still gonna have to lecture her about keeping secrets like this from me, but seems we have a fortunate mom. Found two fine companions in a row."

Her sister agreed. "I've found mine who I should get home to before he gets it into his head to file for a divorce and I believe yours is waiting on the floor below for you to ring her doorbell. And if you're lucky Dyl maybe she'll allow you to ring something else too." The suggestive wink that Angela added after her comment wasn't necessary.

Smirking, Dylan gently pinched her cheek. "We're just friends Angie." As she left the bathroom she heard the reply 'We'll see'.

~~~~~~~~~~

"This is so amazing," Layne breathed, smiling at the woman seated across from her at the dainty round dining table. Unconsciously trailing fingers over the delicate lace tablecloth, her smile grew. "Thank you for inviting me along."

Dylan smiled back. "Can't think of anyone else I'd rather be here with." The miniature lamp between them illuminated Layne's blush. Picking up the menu she asked her if she had decided on a meal plan, of which there were five to choose from including one for those practicing a vegetarian lifestyle.

"They all sound delicious but I'm leaning toward the pan-roasted turbot. You?"

"The filet mignon because I don't recognize any of the others except for the salmon and I'm not sure I'd like that."

"Well darling this is your chance to branch out. You should try something new, like me. I've never heard of turbot but I'm going for it."

Silently hoping that her dinner companion would refer to her as 'darling' more often, Dylan put her glasses back on to read. "What kind of meat is that?"

"I think it might be a fish."

"Pan-roasted turbot in red wine sauce served on top of a bed of spinach with vegetables on the side." She then read what accompanied the salmon plate. Words such as chutney, rice with toasted coconut and Bok choy failed in tantalizing her taste buds. No, she wanted to be certain that she would enjoy her Valentine's meal, so there wouldn't be any branching out done on her part tonight. Looking apologetic she informed Layne of her plan to stick with the dependable filet mignon.

The blonde laughed after swallowing a drink from her glass of lightly lemon-flavored water. "That's cool Dyl. We'll take baby steps." She grinned. "Maybe I could get you to sample my turbot."

I'd rather sample your lips again. Christmas, New Years, shoot why not Valentine's too? "Hmm, maybe you could."

"You should try Ollie's food. He's a great cook. Last week we had…um," gray eyes widening a fraction, Layne occupied her mouth by taking slow slips of water, feeling the stare yet refusing to meet Dylan's eyes.

"Ollie? Is that a nickname for Oliver?"

"Uh, maybe."

An eyebrow rose. Everyone was letting the cat out of the bag tonight! "Layne--"

"Oh, look! Here comes our waiter," Layne over gleefully stated, smiling at the sharply dressed man approaching their table. "You're getting the filet mignon, right?"

"Uh huh."

Putting a halt to the revealing conversation, they put in their main course orders along with Layne trying a pre-dinner Greek shrimp salad and Dylan opting for a safe garden salad with ranch dressing. Their waiter encouraging them to have a glass of wine, Dylan selected with his assistance a Merlot to go with her steak and Layne the Chablis.

"So who is 'we'?" The brunette asked once their waiter moved away.

Layne chose to fake a case of dumbitis. "We?" She pointed at herself and then the other woman. "I am Layne Bishop and you are Dylan Tate, that is who 'we' are." She smiled and Dylan smiled back, although it could have been a grimace. "Alright, I'll tell you the truth. Last week I went to Maddie's house for dinner--it was Oliver's 64th birthday but he insisted on doing the majority of the cooking with Mom as his co-chef. From Ohio, most of his family is back there so he decided to celebrate at Maddie's and Reggie, Angie, a couple of his friends and I showed up. By the way, Oliver is…sort of dating your mom."

"Since July."

"How did you know? I thought…"

Nodding, Dylan unfolded it and spread the linen napkin on her lap. Although common sense told her that one didn't exist in their family she felt like the black sheep. "Until tonight I was oblivious that Mom has a personal life. Angie spilled the beans earlier by accident. So three out of four of Mom's children were invited. That's just super. Was she that nervous about telling me? Have I ever indicated that I want her to be alone for the rest of her life if she can't be with Dad on this earth? And why do you look like a proud peacock?" The minor irritation diminished when Layne covered and began caressing the back of her hand.

"You said three out of four of her children." Voice softening she added, "That includes me."

And with that said the irritation became an emotion of the past. "Of course it does. I have mentioned that you're family, correct? Proof is that she has you calling her Mom." It took Madeline 5.8 seconds to go from 'it's Madeline or Maddie honey' to 'feel free to call me Mom'. Dylan couldn't be happier although she had to admit that she didn't view Layne as her sister. She had a zero urge to kiss Angela the way she frequently thought about kissing the blonde.

They wouldn't need the lamp if her smile grew any brighter. "Correct."

"You're a Tate. Deal with it." Dylan was beaming as their waiter returned with the salads.

"I can deal with that just fine," Layne replied, letting go of Dylan's hand to use the peppershaker. "Are you terribly upset over Oliver? About just learning of his relationship with Mom?"

Dylan shrugged. "No, not terribly upset. Just wish she had shared this with me earlier. I would have accepted it. She was so accepting of me coming out to her so many years ago, I owe it to her!" She joined in on Layne's chuckle.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two treats on a small red heart-shaped paper plate in her hand, Dylan gazed toward her companion unnoticed from her approximately fifty foot distance inside the ship's nightclub, which had been darkened as the DJ played one romantic ballad after another. She looked so lovely sitting there in her outfit of gray and pink while bobbing her head to the music.

Dylan had to pick her jaw up from the floor when Layne answered her door ready for their date…ahem…friendship date. From head to toe the muralist was a total knockout. Gray pinstripe flare pants delightedly clung to her curves, an equally delicious upper body covered with a long-sleeved pale pink buttoned cotton shirt underneath a fuchsia sleeveless cable knit sweater. Dylan truly wished that she had flowers to go along with her compliment 'wow, you look spectacular'.

Reminding her feet to move she arrived at their table within seconds, standing behind Layne while she remained clueless that the brunette had returned. Dylan covered her eyes with one hand as she set the plate on the table. Though startled, the younger woman began to smile, recognizing Dylan's blending scents of peach body wash and baby oil. She was about to speak when something cool pressing against her mouth startled her again. She was asked to open up and without hesitation did just that. Cool smooth sweetness caressed her tongue until she was asked to bite. Layne sank her teeth into the morsel; the sweet juiciness of a strawberry combined with decadent hardened chocolate excited her taste buds so much that she softly moaned. Her eyes would have closed if they weren't already being held captive by Dylan's palm.

"Mm, a chocolate dipped strawberry?" A shiver raced through her when lips touched the edge of her earlobe.

"How does it taste?" Dylan whispered into her ear, causing another shiver just because of the way she uttered the word 'taste'.

Layne found it necessary to clear her throat before answering. "Scrumptious," it came out as an unintended whisper. She blinked when the hand was removed, watching Dylan settle into the chair across from hers. The remainder of the chocolate-coated fruit was presented to her, but instead of removing it from Dylan's grasp she bit into the strawberry, finally plucking the small piece left on her third bite. Her feeder was just a bit disappointed that she was such a careful eater that her tongue neglected to brush against Dylan's fingers. Still she offered a large smile.

"What were you up to besides getting us such tasty treats? Took you a little while." Picking up the remaining strawberry she instructed Dylan to bite, which she did, taking half of it.

Didja miss me? "You wanna know?" Layne nodded. "You really wanna know?"

Layne smirked. "Yes, please."

"Aw, you said please. That's mighty sweet and polite of you Ms. Bishop." She laughed when the blonde pretended like she was going to throw the half consumed strawberry at her. "Okay, I'll tell you if only so you won't start a food fight in here and get us kicked out into the frigid bay. But you must promise to close your eyes until I start speaking again. Will you do that? Promise me that you won't open your eyes until you hear my voice."

Although mystified by her peculiar response Layne promised, even crossing her heart. Her lips turned upward when Dylan leaned in to clench the rest of her strawberry with pearly teeth. Once swallowed she spoke. "Eyes closed now." The muralist dutifully shut her eyes and though she tried to concentrate on listening she was oblivious that Dylan had left the table. If someone happened to focus on her they might have thought that she was either asleep or praying.

Layne estimated that five minutes had passed without hearing her friend's voice. What was she doing? Just sitting there staring at her? Maybe this was a silly test to see how long she could keep a promise. She began counting internally. One hippopotamus, two hippopotamus, three…

Now six minutes! "Alright Dyl, I'm contemplating breaking my promise so speak now or forever hold…" She trailed off upon finally hearing Dylan speak; saying something about 'is this thing working'. However, she obviously wasn't seated at their table. Her voice sounded amplified through a microphone. Eyes opening, Layne looked around and within two seconds located her date standing on the stage with a band that hadn't been there six minutes ago. She heard that a locally known band was supposed to take over for the nightclub's DJ soon, so perhaps the quartet of thirtysomething men was it. However, why was Dylan up there with them? Layne reminded herself to shut up and then she could find out.

"Evening and Happy Valentine's Day everyone," Dylan started, the stage highlighted with a pale blue hue. Indicating the group who had their respective instruments ready to play, she continued, "Out of the kindness of their hearts, these gentlemen have agreed to let me sing a song before they wow you with their talent." Through the crowd Dylan's eyes connected with Layne's. "Layne we haven't known each other that long but I consider you my best friend and since I'm nowhere near perfect in expressing my feelings with words I'd like to dedicate this song belonging to Lifehouse for you. Thank you for your friendship. If I had all the time in the world I couldn't explain how precious it is to me." She glanced over her shoulder. "Guys. Please."

On cue the band began to play music that a lot of the nightclub inhabitants including a teary eyed Layne recognized. Some of the couples began to dance while she sat there mesmerized, having had no idea that Dylan could carry a tune so well. Her voice…an angel couldn't possibly have sounded more ethereal.

What day is it? And in what month?
This clock never seemed so alive
I can't keep up and I can't back down
I've been losing so much time

Cause it's you and me and all of the people
With nothing to do
Nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why
I can't keep my eyes off of you

All of the things that I want to say
Just aren't coming out right
I'm tripping on words
You've got my head spinning
I don't know where to go from here

As Dylan commenced with the chorus a second time, her eyes shut so that images of Layne could run through her mind more vividly, the woman she was singing her heart out to had to wipe her damp face with a tissue that someone nearby offered her. Overwhelmed (though positively) and touched beyond words, she wanted to sprint onto that stage, throw her arms around Dylan and kiss her sweet mouth.

There's something about you now
I can't quite figure out
Everything she does is beautiful
Everything she does is right

Cause it's you and me and all of the people
With nothing to do
Nothing to lose
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why
I can't keep my eyes off of you

And me and all of the people
With nothing to do
Nothing to prove
And it's you and me and all of the people
And I don't know why
I can't keep my eyes off of you

What day is it?
And in what month?
This clock never seemed so alive

All hands inside the nightclub began to furiously clap while Dylan took a quick bow and then blew her cherished friend a kiss. Standing because the woman on stage deserved the grandest ovation, Layne produced a gentle smile as she reached upward to catch the invisible kiss. And so she wouldn't lose it, she tucked it inside her shirt since her outfit didn't have any pockets.

~~~~~~~~~~

Layne hardly felt the cool air around her as she leaned on the railing belonging to the top deck of the ship, alone since everyone else had the good sense to remain on the warmer levels, most inside the ships several rooms. The warm fuzzy sensation from Dylan's vocals kept her body temperature bearable as she gazed out toward Golden Gate Bridge in the distance. Studying the bridge, she thought back to that fateful night in December when she could have done the most nonsensical thing.

Fate. Layne suddenly smiled. Fate had brought an abundance of joy into her life. An adopted family, friends, Robin and Dylan--she had so much to be thankful for. God willing, a few weeks into summer she would be granted a second chance at motherhood. Although there was a trace of a smile on her lips, tears gathered beneath her eyelids as she thought of her first child who was lost to her and her ex-partner so tragically. Next month she would have been a year and a half old. Layne could imagine she and her little sister Robin playing together, growing up together.

She raised her head until she was looking into the darkened sky. My beautiful Kate. I know you're residing happily with the angels now, but I miss you so much. A tear escaped while arms wrapped around Layne from behind. She leaned into the touch, instantly knowing whose body was pressed against her without looking. One arm quickly rose so that a gentle thumb could remove the moisture from her cheek.

"Sweetie what's wrong?" Dylan asked in a whisper.

"I was thinking about how blessed I am." Again without looking she could tell that her friend was unconvinced.

"And this made you cry?"

"Tears of joy." She felt herself being turned around and did so without resistance. Blue eyes studied her for a moment followed by a headshake.

"No, I don't think so," Dylan quietly spoke. "I witnessed the joyful tears inside the club. These are different so what made you sad?"

"I just started to think about my daughter."

"Katherine."

As Dylan stroked her cheek, the blonde smiled. "We haven't spoken of her since the night we met and yet you remembered her name." The cheek stroking was replaced with a hug. Layne was asked if she wanted to talk about her daughter. "I've talked a therapist's ear off already." Several weeks after their baby's death Kirsten insisted that she make an appointment with a psychiatrist to discuss her grief and after a week of steady insistence she agreed, going for once weekly sessions until deciding that she didn't require anymore by the following spring.

"Well I still have the both of mine and I'm more than willing to give you one." Dylan smiled, detecting the quiet chuckle. "Tell you what. Why don't I round us up a couple of hot coffees and then we can find a quiet place to talk? How's that?" Standing on tiptoes, Layne kissed her forehead in reply.

~~~~~~~~~~

Because dinner had concluded and the dining room held very few people inside its walls, Layne and Dylan ended up there with two mugs filled with aromatic liquid caffeine. While Layne spoke of Kate, the few months she and her partner had with her and her passing, Dylan thought of the DNA technician she met while in New York. Wasn't her name Kirsten too? Or was it Kirstie, Kristen, Krista? No, no it was definitely Kirsten. When they talked in one of the laboratory's bathroom she mentioned that she had a daughter who passed away due to SIDS the previous December. Coincidence? In a city with a population as large as NYC, surely it had to be.

"Layne by any chance does Kirsten have long curly red hair and work as a DNA tech at the NYC Genetics Center?"

"Um…yes." The blonde nodded while trying to figure out how Dylan knew those two pieces of information. "At least she did as of December. I couldn't tell you if she's still there. How did you know?"

"Unless this is one very large coincidence, I think I met your ex when Angie and I were in NYC to see my brother and ask him for a paternity test. A woman named Kirsten performed the test and later on I had a chat with her in the restroom. She gave me some advice about parenting, tried to convince me that I might be able to take care of Robin if the results indicated that Reggie was her father. I asked her if she had any children and she said that she and her partner had a daughter named Kate. However, she passed away at three months of age because of SIDS."

"Did you get her last name?"

"She wore a badge but I don't remember what it was. Had to be your Kirsten right?"

Not my Kirsten. Layne smirked on the inside. She's with high school sweetheart Darren now. "I doubt there's another redheaded Kirsten working in that building who lost a child in the same way at the same age." Glancing toward her purse she thought of the cloth that she had been carrying around since it was given to her on the plane ride to San Francisco. A few occasions she thought about presenting it to Dylan, but was afraid of the woman's reaction when she shared with her the story on how she received it. She might deem her a nutcase, which could be true. "Dylan there's something I need to show you." Pulling her purse closer, she unzipped an inner compartment and removed the laundered handkerchief, her best proof that Rose existed.

"Does this mean anything to you?"

Accepting the handkerchief, recognition dawned even before Dylan spotted the initials D.T. "This is mine," she reverently said, eyes glued to the soft cloth as she ran her fingers over it. "My Dad gave it to me on my 14th birthday. It was inside a gift-wrapped box placed on the saddle of my new bicycle. My Dad always carried around a handkerchief with his initials R.T. on it and for some reason I just loved that. So for my birthday along with the coolest bike in S.F., he had a handkerchief monogrammed for me." The tears in her eyes stunned Layne when she looked up at her. "I've kept it all these years, but a few months ago it went missing. I searched my apartment from top to bottom, the pockets in my clothes, my car but I couldn't find it anywhere. How…" Dylan shook her head, the tears falling. "How did you get it?"

"Ah, you wouldn't believe me if I told you." So Rose had to exist somewhere out there. It wasn't like she blacked out before meeting Dylan, traveled to S.F., broke into her apartment and swiped the handkerchief only to return a few months later thinking that a fellow passenger on that trip offered it to her. Could this situation get any stranger?

Dylan took the napkin from underneath her mug to wipe her eyes instead of using the convenient handkerchief. "Try me."

With a great sigh, Layne recounted all that happened starting from the moment she met the enigmatic Rose on flight 181 until she ended up inside an airport bathroom sitting on a toilet lid as she wondered if the events of the last few hours had been a hallucination. She held her breath waiting to see how the brunette would reply. She was relieved when the blue eyes staring at her glanced toward the recovered handkerchief.

"So a woman who may or may not exist gave you my handkerchief on your flight here?" Layne wordlessly nodded. "Huh. Rose…Rose, do I know a Rose?" Dylan said aloud, though it was obvious the question was solely posed to herself.

"Even if you did, it seems that I'm the only person to see her on that plane."

Dylan expelled a loud breath. "The flight attendant had to be wrong--she was on that plane. Like you said she gave you directions with unfamiliar handwriting and a handkerchief. My handkerchief. My handkerchief that was lost in San Francisco yet Rose coming from New York had it in her possession."

"Are you positive that it's yours? Could be another D.T."

"In the precise stitching of the letters and design of the handkerchief as mine?" Dylan shrugged. "Maybe, but I have my doubts. I don't know. Maybe I did meet and have something going with a Rose months ago and when we parted ways she took my handkerchief." Standing she placed the handkerchief inside her pocket and then put an arm around her friend's shoulders upon reseating herself. "Layne I think we'll have to place this within the file categorized as unsolved mysteries. What I do know is that all of these mind-boggling coincidences point to the fact that we were destined to meet and that's pretty damn neat." She offered the younger woman a smile. "Rhyme not intended."

Smiling back, Layne cocked her head, listening to the music led by a piano beginning to play through the speakers. She hadn't heard that song in such a long time yet it was one of her favorites by the gifted musician about to break into song. "Would you dance with me Dylan?" She chuckled because Dylan was out of her seat before she could finish her question. Wanting to dance underneath the stars, Layne took her hand leading her companion out to an uncrowded deck.

Hoping that they didn't decide to get a mind of their own by slipping lower and toward the rear of Layne's body, Dylan placed her hands on the blonde's hips. Layne initially put her hands on her shoulders yet by the second verse of Stevie Wonder's Ribbon in the Sky had relocated them to the nape of Dylan's neck. Both were inwardly pleased since the small maneuver brought them closer. They barely noticed the few couples passing by as they melted into each other, bodies ignoring the chill surrounding them.

This is not a coincidence
And far more than a lucky chance
But what is that was always meant
Is our ribbon in the sky for our love

"Layne aren't you forgetting to give me something?" Dylan watched as the muralist's brow scrunched in thought. "How could you neglect to do this?" She teasingly added, confusing her friend more. "Mistletoe at Christmas--check. Midnight on New Years--check. Dinner cruise on Valentines-- unfortunately no check. Yet." She beamed when Layne started laughing.

"Please, please forgive me Dyl."

"I will if you rectify this situation." The hands on her neck began to push so Dylan leaned down far enough so that their lips could easily meet. And they would have succeeded had the dancing pair not been interrupted. One inch from Layne's mouth, Dylan straightened with a tiny groan, sending the sharply dressed without a tie photographer a tight smile. A glance toward her friend and she noticed that hers was looser. I can't quite hide the fact that I'd like to toss him over the rail.

Not one to usually succumb to intimidation, the photographer introduced himself and explained what he would like to do. Everyone aboard was entitled to have a complimentary 8X10 photo taken, which after development would be mailed to them within the next couple of weeks. He couldn't remember taking their picture, so the photographer asked if they were interested. No one had turned him down because the price was most definitely right. Another affirmative answer and he began to quickly set up his equipment.

"Do you live together?" He asked. If they didn't he would send an identical photograph to each address.

Layne shook her head. "No, she lives on top of me." Her cheeks flushed hotly while Dylan tried her best not to laugh. "I mean above me--um, we live in the same apartment building but she's on another floor."

"Oh, I just bet she does honey." The photographer grinned and Dylan almost lost it. Then Layne might want to toss her over the rail. "Mm, if I were a hetero I'd be conjuring up all kinds of images of the two of you right now in a plethora of…arrangements." He glanced between the two, his unabashed grin taking control of the lower portion of his face. "Such a dazzling couple you make." Neither Layne nor Dylan thought it necessary to correct him.

Writing down their mailing information and checking off their names from the long list of passengers attached to his clipboard, the photographer asked them if they had any poses in mind. When they agreed that they didn't, he suggested that they return to the position they held when he arrived. As though planned, Luther Vandross and Beyonce's version of The Closer I Get to You started to play as Layne and Dylan put their hands in the right places, the front of their bodies once again touching.

The photographer stood behind his tripod, observing the couple as they stood as still as they could. Black and white. He wanted to develop the photo without the assortment of colors. He could envision their photograph in black and white--elegant and most importantly romantic. They consented to his idea of receiving a b&w photo instead of color, although he gave them the option of one color and one without.

"Dylan I'd like you to slightly tilt your head downward toward Layne. Right, just like that. Now give her a ghost of a smile as you gaze limpidly into her eyes. Perfect." He bobbed his head with approval. "Layne your head is already at the perfect angle as though you're about to receive a kiss from your ladylove. Now I want you to part those lips just a hair. Dylan lower your head a little more. I want you to feel her breath on your face because your mouths are so close. Perfect. Hold that ladies." One eye squinting, the photographer aimed his lens at the couple who were staring at one another with such fervor that he felt compelled to promptly snap the picture so they could kiss already.

~~~~~~~~~~

The elevator arriving at Layne's floor, the duo walked out, their arms linked as they strolled through the quiet empty hallway. Both were pondering how this night would come to an end when they stopped at the door leading into the muralist's temporary home. Layne produced noise when she jiggled the keys in her hand. Spying the keychain, which she gave her for Christmas Dylan grinned. Reading her thoughts without the advantage of being a mind reader, the blonde chuckled.

"Yes, I'm so glad that I'm not a birthday. Although there have been many times when I felt like one." That's right. Go ahead and talk about how sex deprived you've recurrently been throughout your adulthood. "Um, I have something for you." Layne briefly thought about running inside her apartment and slamming the door when dark brows rose in…was that interest? Now it sounded as though she were propositioning Dylan. This just keeps getting better!

"Dylan," she sighed, tapping her door with an index finger, "I have a present for you in my apartment." The eyebrows appeared to climb higher. Groaning, Layne promised to return in a second and before her date could answer she had the door unlocked and went inside. It actually took her sixty-eight seconds to return, but Dylan wasn't counting.

"I meant to give it to you before we left, but I forgot. Happy Valentines Dylan." She handed her a thin white folder with a red ribbon tied around it.

The brunette smiled. "Aw, you didn't have to get me anything." She was already tugging on the ribbon. Opening the folder, the first thing she noticed on a sheet of paper was her full name typed in bold script. The words 'star deed' across the top of the sheet caught her attention next. Her face shining much like a star, she looked toward Layne, kissing her cheek before she spoke. "You named a star after me? That's so incredible. I've heard of this but no one has ever…" Trailing off, she quietly read the entire certificate.

A five-digit catalog number preceded the name of her constellation Leo, the Lion, which was also her astrological sign. Below that was her boldfaced name with smaller writing underneath it explaining where her star could be located. The numbers and letters bunched together made zero sense to Dylan, but she vowed to figure out what they meant so she could try to track down her star. Also, the purchasing of a telescope might come in handy.

To the left of an embossed golden seal proving that the certificate was authentic was a message from her friend.

I know that you're a star,
Because you brighten up my life.
Always, Layne
February 14, 2006

"Oh, Layne. This is so sweet. You brighten mine too," she whispered as she pulled the smaller woman to her for a long embrace. "Thank you so much. I'm gonna frame this and hang it on the wall." She didn't want to let go because it felt so right to hold her, but Dylan finally released her friend. She was delighted when Layne took her hand back, squeezing it gently.

"Thank you for tonight Dylan. If I were to make a short list of the best nights of my life, this I guarantee you would be on it--at the top. The cruise, the food, the music, the atmosphere…you…it was all so wonderful. I had the best time."

"So did I," Dylan replied in a shy tone. She had half a mind to ask Layne if she wanted to come up to her apartment for a nightcap just so she could prolong their time together. However, the other more sensible half of her brain convinced her not to offer a drink. Layne would remain in San Francisco until summer so it wasn't necessary for them to spend every waking moment in each other's presence. So say goodnight Dylan.

"Guess I should get home."

Layne softly smiled. "You don't have far to go at least."

Smiling back somewhat, Dylan shook her head. "True." Ahem, say goodnight Dylan. "You like waffles?"

Although appearing surprised by the question posed after midnight, Layne gave a positive response. "As a matter of fact I do. I usually eat the frozen kind." She laughed at her friend's disapproving expression. "Hey it's quick and easy to pop one or two of those suckers in the toaster."

"I'm no cooking maven, but I can cook some mean waffles."

"You don't say? Are they better than the nice waffles?"

"Haha. Say I do. So could I invite you to my place for breakfast in the--well later this morning?" Once you get her answer, promptly head upstairs.

"I'd love to. What time and what should I bring?"

"Nine and nothing."

"Nothing? What about mimosas?"

"That has orange juice and alcohol in it, doesn't it?" I'm in!

The blonde nodded. "Champagne. And I have an unopened bottle and a half-gallon of Tropicana in my fridge. It's easy to fix the drink."

"Sweet. You can show me how." All right, move your feet toward the elevator Dylan.

"It would be my pleasure."

The way she said the word 'pleasure' caused goosebumps to arise on Dylan's skin. Truly do say goodnight before you get the chance to make an ass of yourself. "Great. I'll see you at nine then." Stealing a kiss from her companion's cheek, she wished her the sweetest dreams before beginning the short trek to the elevators. Layne didn't close her apartment door until Dylan's car was on its way upward.


Out of her shoes and socks ten minutes later, Dylan was pushing her pants down her thighs when the doorbell rang. Either her mother was dropping Robin off awfully early (doubtful), a neighbor was doing some midnight cooking and wanted to borrow something like a cup of sugar or it was the sweet blonde whom she left not long ago.

Hurriedly rearranging her pants she sprinted into the living room. A glance through the peephole had Dylan smiling. Unless Celeste had come back again from Las Vegas, it was the muralist. She opened the door, greeting her with an abundance of eagerness, her smile bright enough to make a light bulb jealous if light bulbs had emotions. Dylan, you've forgotten what the meaning of playing it cool is. The playgirl had left the building and more than likely she would never return. Strangely, Dylan found herself not caring all that much. How had Layne managed to do this to her within the span of two months?

"I just remembered that I forgot," stopping, Layne chuckled over how that sounded. "Um, I forgot to give you something else."

The goosebumps paid her flesh another visit as she checked Layne's empty hands. "You'll spoil me."

Neither agreeing nor disagreeing with the declaration, Layne walked inside the apartment, shut the door followed by pushing Dylan backward until her legs bumped into the couch. Seated on its arm, she had her thighs spread with Layne stepping between them. Unaware of her ragged breathing, she waited to see where the petite blonde was headed. In 6.9 seconds she was headed straight for her mouth, eliciting a swift approving moan.

Dylan hugged Layne to her, squeezing her thighs on either side of her body while the kiss deepened, proving that the third time was the charm. She thought she had goosebumps before. The moment Layne's tongue glided between her moist lips she wanted to carry her off to the bedroom where she would continue to have her way with her through the duration of the night and probably after the sun rose. Actually trying this would probably earn Dylan a stinging cheek so she refrained from picking Layne up, instead just enjoying the kiss that ended before she could began a passionate investigation of the younger woman's mouth. Would she have to wait until St. Patrick's Day now for another chance?

Instead of slapping it, Layne stroked her cheek. "Forgiven?"

Dylan smiled while thinking that the day of Irish celebration was over a month away. "Yes. Forgiven and forgotten." I wonder if Presidents' Day would count? That's next Monday.

"Goodnight Dyl," she whispered, dropping her hand and beginning to amble toward the door.

"Goodnight Layne." She would have offered to escort Layne back to her apartment, but she wanted an encore too badly. So Dylan stayed on the arm of the couch until the muralist had given her a wink and then closed the door. "Gotta love a 12-point Layne Bishop kiss."

~~~~~~~~~~

March 6th 2006

Up and working since 4 o'clock, Dylan answered her phone rather cheerfully at 6:52 that morning. A nice workout in the gym belonging to her complex, creative juices flowing so beautifully within the blocks of her strip and superb coffee played a large part in her upbeat early morning disposition. The voice on the other end sent her sunny disposition a few ticks higher. Oh, a natural high was a wonderful thing!

"Someone's happy." Layne chuckled through the phone. "I was hoping that you wouldn't answer sounding groggy because you had been asleep."

"Nope, been wide awake for three hours. You two ladies alright?"

"Oh, yes we're fine. Are you busy? Drawing your strip?"

Dylan smiled, tapping a pencil against her chin. "Layne you've come to know me so well. But I'm not busy. In fact, I'm constructing a strip that is way ahead of my deadline."

Layne had her congratulations ready. "Whoo-hoo! You go Tate!"

The brunette laughed. "Thank you Bishop! So what's up with you at," she glanced at her watch, "6:55 in the a.m.?"

"I've nabbed myself a client and was wondering if you would like to join Robin and I? The pay is pretty good."

"You want me to draw on a wall with you?"

"Basically." She chuckled again. "We don't have to worry about the rain and frigid weather because this particular job is indoors. My clients have purchased a new home and before they move in they wanted to have the recreation room painted for their children. I'd pay you by the hour if you're interested."

"My payment is getting to spend time with two gorgeous females." Before Layne could argue she added, "And you can treat me to lunch."

"I'm guesstimating that this project will take a few weeks to complete--perhaps extending into early May unless some all or partial nighters are pulled. That's if you'd like to be in my 'employ' for that long. Luckily my clients don't intend to start moving in until the end of June when their children are out of school for the summer."

Dylan softly whistled into the phone. "Large recreation room, huh?" She was informed to look around her living room and into the kitchen. That was a good estimate of the rec room's size whose four walls they would be painting. "Damn, we'll need a lot of paint! Is this one of your largest projects?" It was but Layne was quite excited about it. "Okay, you can buy me lunch for as long as it takes to finish the Cramer's mural."

"Really Dyl, this is too much work for me to only pay you with lunch."

The comic thought of other ways she could be paid, but Layne might walk up to her apartment to commit homicide if she suggested them. "Alright, dinner too. Keep pushing and I'll make you feed me breakfast and in between meal snacks. And if you get ultra pushy dessert too." She received a laugh from that response. "Honestly, just feed me and I'll devote my hands to you for as long as you want them." Seconds passed without Dylan gaining a reply. She only heard her caller's breathing. "Layne? You okay?"

"Um," she cleared her throat, "yes. Fine." Pause. "So you want to stop at that little restaurant around the corner and get a couple of breakfast burritos for fuel?"

"My stomach just saluted you with an appreciative growl. You going to pick me up?" Dylan looked toward her watch. She could be ready in twenty minutes.

"7:30 too soon?"

"It's perfect."

~~~~~~~~~~

Half pound breakfast burrito demolished before they reached Jake and Duncan Cramer's soon to be residence in Pacific Heights, Dylan took a couple of swallows from her restaurant purchased coffee then leaned forward to put it in the cup holder. So comfortable and cozy in the passenger seat of Layne's truck, she stroked the soft leather while thinking back on how the silver metallic Dodge Dakota got to San Francisco back in January.

Because he was positive that his sister no longer wished to do him bodily harm, Reggie decided to move back to his hometown after spending a couple of weeks there at their mother's house for Christmas. However, he still needed to return to New York to formally tell his employer that he was quitting and to clean out his apartment, although he could probably do the former over the phone since he didn't hold the most vital position. Plus, he and his boss didn't have the greatest relationship. The man might throw an office party because Reggie was leaving.

So Reggie and Layne conversed and ended up striking a deal. They booked a flight to return to NYC where they would get their affairs in order before taking turns driving the Dodge back to San Francisco. Layne not only wanted her truck for everyday transportation, but it was her work truck for Bishop Designs and she intended to advertise her muralist skills. She figured that it would be just as simple to obtain clients in the multi dimensional city and surrounding areas as it was in New York.

Dylan didn't have a problem with Layne going to retrieve her truck, but she was disappointed in herself for opposing with the idea of her friend and brother spending so much time alone on the airplane and especially the road trip back. Against her wishes images of Reggie and Celeste in her bed kept replaying inside her head before and after they left for NYC. Despite Layne's assertions, the brunette didn't completely return to a tranquil state until she received a call from Layne that they were within the city limits. Reminding herself of Tom Cruise when he behaved like a maniac by jumping up and down on Oprah's couch last year she mimicked him while Robin seemed to observe her as if she was thinking that her aunt had lost her marbles.

Yes, she was acting irrationally, but Dylan couldn't help it. Although she had forgiven Reggie his affair with her ex-girlfriend, it remained in her mind and the thought of him spending almost three thousand miles worth of road travel with her twin was greatly unnerving.


"Dylan I want to ask you something and when I do, don't reply with 'nothing'. I don't want you answering with the word 'nothing' or a synonym of it, okay?" The blonde asked as she paused in her packing to sit next to the woman situated on her bed. She had to learn the reason behind that frown, which Dylan was doing a poor job of concealing.

She nodded replying with a hushed, "Okay."

"What's bothering you? Tell me what's on your mind."

Since she had promised not to say 'nothing', Dylan chose to tell her the truth. "I don't want you and Reggie going to NYC and coming back together in your truck, which will take you several days. That's a lot of alone time."

"You think something might happen between your brother and I?" Her moody friend shrugged. "Dylan," sighing, Layne shifted closer and put an arm around her shoulders, "there is absolutely no chance of Reggie and I becoming involved. I meant it when I said that I was gay." She added a bright smile. "Celeste and I look alike, but we're not the same. She's bi whereas I'm a 150% lesbian and even if I weren't, I wouldn't hook up with Reggie. Although he's rather handsome, I doubt that he would be my heterosexual type. Plus, he's shown no interest in me either other than offering friendship."

"Yeah, I didn't notice his interest in Celeste either."

"Dylan," she waited until the woman looked at her before continuing, "there's a greater chance that Junior Bush will turn into a Democrat than Reggie and I sleeping together." That earned a laugh. "You want to come with us?"

A part of her did, but she couldn't. "No, I have work. And you don't need me chaperoning you. You're grownups."

"Just remember that he's a straight grownup and I'm a gay one. From a sexual standpoint we're like oil and water." Layne received another laugh.


Layne must have thought it odd that Dylan was so anxious over her trip with her brother, but she never questioned it, which relieved the comic. She wouldn't know how to explain her reservations. It wasn't like she and Layne was a couple, so if she and Reggie happened to be intimate it really wasn't any of her business. Just because he slept with Celeste didn't automatically mean that her sister was off limits.

Head shaking slightly, Dylan looked out the window toward an overcast day. I acted like a jealous ass with no right and she was gracious enough not to call me on it.

"What're you thinking about?" Layne inquired as she rounded a corner. "You're quiet over there."

"Ah, nothing worth mentioning. What's the deal with Jake and Duncan Cramer? I initially thought this couple with five children you were talking about was a man and woman. I just assumed."

"Jake and Duncan are the main reason that I wanted this project because they are such an extraordinary couple of men." Layne continued to give her an overview of the partnered pair of thirteen years. They met and quickly became friends several weeks after Duncan's wife of a year and a half decided that she needed to run off in order to find herself, leaving him with a five-month-old daughter to raise on his own. Duncan had a bit of self-discovery to do as well when he couldn't deny his attraction for his new friend Jake. The only difference between he and his absent wife was that he didn't find it necessary to leave during the discovery process.

Despite Duncan's effort to stay deeply lodged within that closet, his tenacious friend eventually pulled him out. By the time they were passed the sixth month anniversary mark Duncan's wife had returned, unsurprised to see that her husband had settled down with another man. Perhaps her acceptance had something to do with the fact that she had brought a woman back to San Francisco with her.

Melissa and Duncan had a civil divorce in spite of her many months of abandonment. They agreed that their daughter would live with her father and his partner and stay at Melissa's residence every other weekend.

Jake and Duncan wanted to give Cassie siblings, so they decided to adopt, although their original plan wasn't to adopt four children. It just delightedly turned out that way. In 1995 they adopted a one-year-old girl whose in and out of prison mother had been reinstated for a much longer term of seven years minimum. Four years later they adopted a five-year-old boy to find out during the process that he had a two-year-old sister living in another foster home. Immediately, the couple deemed that they should be together again, so they adopted her too. Four children was perfect until in 2002 when Jake's teenaged niece had a baby that neither she or her parents were prepared to raise, so the tiny boy's great uncle and his partner brought him into their home.

"Their story," Layne slowly shook her head, "just touched me. Not only to adopt, but to adopt four children? And I had an opportunity to meet them last week during my final consultation with Jake and Duncan. The five of them are so precious."

"So they know about the mural?"

"Yes, but they aren't privy to what the mural will be."

"And what shall the mural be my dear?"

"Jake and Duncan have given me full creative license, which means that it's my choice. They've trusted me to create a mural that the little Cramers' will love. However, I haven't exactly made my choice."

Dylan stared at the driver for a silent moment. "Wait a sec. We have paint in the cab of your truck, painting equipment but no idea what we're going to paint?"

Layne smiled a bit. "Never said I had no idea."

~~~~~~~~~~

Seated on a plastic chair inside the bare recreation room, Dylan studied the four mural models with Robin on her lap. The baby had immediately selected her choice by pointing with her little index finger. Her aunt on the other hand was having a difficult time making a decision about which she preferred. For five children, three girls and two boys aged 4, 9, 12, 12 and 14 any of them seemed appropriate and pleasing for all of those ages.

Using foam boards that looked like mini walls, Layne had sketched each design on four sheets labeled wall #1- #4 using colored pencils. The four sturdy 'walls' having been attached together could be propped up so that they actually resembled the walls of a rectangular room. Every time Dylan thought she had decided on a design a just discovered detail within another design caught her attention.

One theme was of wildlife including lush greenery, colorful parrots soaring through a mostly clear azure sky, monkeys hanging from tall trees and a lion relaxing near a pond with her two cubs. Obviously they had come to a peaceful understanding because on the other side of the pond were a small number of deer drinking from the water while the mother lion and her frolicking cubs paid them no attention.

Another design reminded Dylan of a fairy tale with its majestic castle surrounded by crystal clear water with a moat laid out before it. Nearby the crowned prince and princess had selected one of the many trails around the castle to ride their horses on, hers having a brilliant white coat and his horse a lustrous black. Several unbridled horses of different colors and sizes grazed upon the thick grass on either side of the trails and near stately trees. Instead of continuing the scene, the three remaining walls were to consist of short child friendly fairy tales inscribed on large scrolls. These included the super short Jack and Jill and Humpty Dumpty, a wordier Simple Simon and the longest of them all Cinderella, which not written out on the foam board might take up a wall by itself.

The next theme took place at an obviously popular beach based on the all the people there on the sand and in the blue ocean. Dylan didn't know it at the time since she wasn't aware of what they looked like, but seven of the beach inhabitants were the Cramer family. Duncan was assisting their two youngest children in making a sandcastle while Jake showed the other three how to ride on a boogie board not too far from the shoreline. Boats, jet skis, swimmers and surfers took advantage of the ocean while others preferred to stay on the land building sand creations, playing volleyball among other games, eating and some even taking a nap as the sun's rays warmed their bodies.

Robin had pointed to the beach theme but her aunt was leaning toward the last mural sample, which the ocean made another appearance in. However, this time the scene was set deep below its surface. Dylan imagined that they would need an abundance of blue paint for this design. Along with the numerous multicolored fish swimming through the water there were octopi, jellyfish and sea turtles. Various plants, rocks, shells and oysters containing the most impressive pearls were on the sandy ocean floor.

Minus Jake and Duncan, their children popped up in this mural sketch too. Cassie and her female siblings had become mermaids dressed in tankini tops with each girl's unique top matching her fishtails. The chatting trio sat upon the top of a small underwater cave, which a moray was currently swimming inside of.

On another wall of the aquatic theme was a scuba diver whose face could be viewed even through the goggles. Jamal their oldest son was headed toward a sunken treasure ship that looked as though it could have been buried within that section of the ocean for a century. However, the jewels, gold and silver-handled swords and coins strewn about sparkled despite their age. A locked treasure chest lay on its side near the ship. The pirate flag still attached to the water vessel had a portrait of the youngest Cramer child Justin, who wore a bright smile complete with a missing tooth in the front.

Bringing the foam boards closer, Dylan studied the children within its ocean. Why did they look so familiar although she was certain that she had never met them? As though trying to help her, Robin pointed at the beach mural again causing her aunt to look at it as well. Ah ha! The children on the boogie boards and building a sandcastle were the same children in the aquatic mural. Now why had Layne drawn them twice? Dylan switched her brain to 'on'.

"Oh, these must be Jake and Duncan's children Robbie." The baby gurgled her agreement.

"Ding-ding! That's correct Dylan. Tell her what she's won," Layne said in her best imitation of a game show host as she entered the room. Grinning she pulled a plastic chair near them, choosing to sit on it backwards. "You Tate girls know which design you favor yet?"

"Robbie has taken a liking to the beach but I'm partial to the ocean although it looks the most challenging of the four. But I'm up for a challenge. You're the boss. Which is your favorite?"

"You and I both are up for a challenge. Sorry love." She looked at the baby who was reaching a hand out in her direction. Scooting closer, Layne gently grasped it and put a few tiny kisses in Robin's palm making her laugh. No hard feelings that her choice wasn't chosen by her aunties.

"How do we do this?" Dylan glanced at the four walls, which had neatly drawn grids on them. Each section formed a perfect foot-by-foot long square and there were more of them than she cared to count. Thinking of a project she once did in a high school art class, she had an idea what they were intended for. In that class each student selected a frame from a comic strip, drew a grid over it and then enlarged the picture by redrawing it on a poster board. That assignment was what ignited Dylan's interest in creating comics, in addition to the A+ her teacher gave her for the reproduction of Cathy.

"Well you see the grids Reggie, Oliver and I created yesterday--"

"How often do you, Reggie and Mom's main squeeze hang out together?" There was a smile on her face after she asked the question.

"No one told you about the club?"

The brunette chuckled. "No. Could I join?"

"I suppose you could. We'll initiate you next week."

"Great! Continue please."

"We used my nifty chalk line tool to make the foot length squares. Those boxes will assist you and I in drawing the ocean mural. I have black and white copies of the design in my briefcase and I've already drawn inch length grid boxes on them. We'll start drawing from the left top corner of wall #1 and work our way through each square. Afterward, the chalk grid can be dusted away and then we can begin the real fun of painting. Once we start painting our little girl here won't be able to tag along because we don't want any fumes invading her vulnerable lungs. I generally use non-toxic paint, but I'd like to be on the safe side."

"Vulnerable? I know you've heard this kid holler! I'm sure her grandma won't mind babysitting." Dylan smiled. "She might have tried adopting her if you hadn't beat her to it. So we use a pencil to draw it?"

Layne nodded. "Very lightly to prevent it from showing through the acrylic paint. After the painting is finished we'll let it dry for 48 hours and then apply a thin coat of sealer to protect it." Turning her head, Layne looked at each wall while she thoughtfully bit her lower lip. "As I sit here I'm thinking this is too much work for two people--at least the drawing portion. It would go faster if we had more hands and I would take up less of your time. You have your own work to do."

A grin showing Dylan replied, "Layne it's not like I'm a doctor or a lawyer. I draw a daily comic strip, which isn't that time consuming unless I'm having a block, which is rare. I want to help you. I want do participate in this because it seems like it'll be fun once we get going. Now let's think about hands. Who do I know who can draw?"

"Whoever is willing to help doesn't necessarily have to be an artist. That's what so neat about the grid system because it dices up a picture into small squares making it so much easier to replicate. Just work your way from one square to the next drawing what you see in each box. I'd pay by the hour."

"You and your paying by the hour." Dylan shook her head, Robin subsequently mirroring her. "In about how many days do you think we could get the drawing done with say four people volunteering?"

Layne took a couple of minutes to study her sketches before she answered. "I think the six of us could have it completed in two or three days depending on how well they work with a grid."

Robin settled on her hip after she stood up, Dylan pulled out her cell phone, announced that she would return soon and exited the room. When she and her now dozing niece reentered twenty minutes later Layne had already started drawing, a stepladder making her tall enough to comfortably reach the top of the eight-foot wall. She softly called out her name to avoid startling the muralist. Pencil pausing, Layne looked to her left with a smile.

"Yes darling?"

A pleasant tingle sailed through Dylan in response to the endearment she loved to hear falling from those lips. "The search for four volunteers has concluded. They don't want payment other than food like me. Pi--"

"These volunteers want to eat you? I hate to sound like a bigot, but I'm staunchly against cannibalism."

Her friend smirked. "Only one of them has." The retort slipped out before she could put a clamp around her mouth. Awesome Dylan. Remind her that you've had your share of bed buddies. "What I mean is um…" Oh, just forget about it. She hadn't a clue how to clean up her faux pas.

Layne gave her an unreadable look as she idly tapped the end of her pencil against the tray attached to the stepladder. Although Robin wouldn't understand if she were awake the blonde half whispered, "My friend I am pro cunnilingus." Dylan was too slack-jawed to have a reply ready so Layne filled in the silence with a chuckle. "Tell me who is coming." A second later she chuckled again, the woman below still not speaking. Obviously she had forgotten how to blink too. "No pun intended."

~~~~~~~~~~

The six muralists (five of which were temporary) along with their supervisor Robbie enjoyed a picnic on the covered hardwood floor as they admired the penciled underwater theme that they had been working diligently on the past three days. Layne had paid them in full with a variety of pizza, buffalo wings, beer and soda for those who opted not to drink alcohol.

The only person in the group whom she was familiar with was Jimmy, although she recognized the remaining male who was Dylan's bicycle courier. She met Mason a few weeks ago when he stopped by to pick up a week's worth of Dylan's comic strips to take to the post office where he would send them off to her syndicate's address. Layne had seen him on a couple of occasions after the initial meeting, but she never had an opportunity to speak with him since he was always on the move. He had to be one of the swiftest couriers in San Francisco.

Elena and Laurel were the female volunteers and longtime friends of Dylan. Laurel who Dylan admitted was one of her few heterosexual friends had been ecstatically married for eighteen years with enough children to produce their own Brady Bunch television show. However, they had four girls and two boys and they were the O'Toole family.

That left Elena as the person who…ahem… once upon a time feasted upon Dylan. Their relationship lasted less than two weeks yet their friendship had survived. They discovered that they made much better buddies than lovers. Layne appeared a little too happy when Dylan's voluptuous Latina ex mentioned that her one-year anniversary spent with the love of her life was just around the corner.

"How long have you two been dating?" Elena inquired while she peeled a pepperoni from her slice of pizza. Her legs stretched out she tapped the bottom of Dylan's shoe with hers. "And how come you've been keeping me out of the loop?"

Laurel seconded that with a vigorous nod. "This should have made the headlines of the San Francisco Chronicle. 'The Bay Area's most renowned player has been pulled out of the game!'" She and Elena slapped palms as they laughed and although knowing the true nature of Dylan and Layne's relationship, so did the guys in attendance. Because everyone except for her aunties was laughing Robin released her pacifier and joined in.

While Dylan smirked Layne guzzled root beer hoping to cool her reddened cheeks. "Enough ya pack of hyenas. Layne and I aren't together that way. Just friends."

"Just friends raising a baby together?" Laurel persisted, indicating the little one using her as a backrest since she hadn't mastered sitting up on her own yet.

Dylan nodded. "That's right." At least until they pack up and return to New York with all its pollution and congestion…
~~~~~~~~~~

April 8th 2006

"Don't you even think about it," she said in warning.

"Think about what?" She asked in false innocence.

Gray eyes rolled. "Don't think about turning that paintbrush on me. The paint is solely for the wall." Kneeling on the floor covered with a mountain of protective cloths, she continued to paint her starfish, which was nearly done. From the corner of her eye she noticed the paintbrush dripping with leaden blue paint used in creating their swordfish inching toward her face. "Dylan I will dropkick you into next year if you--" Stiff bristles ran across her cheek applying the cool wet deep blue paint. Brazen, Dylan moved closer so that she could get the other cheek, swiping her brush across it. And then she had enough nerve to grin.

"Now you match. What were you saying about dropkicking me? Go ahead. Make my day." She didn't sound much like Clint Eastwood when repeating his memorable line, but it would do. She screeched like a little girl when Layne lunged after her and tackled her to the floor before she could remind herself to run. A knee settled her on her lower back and an arm crooked around her neck she felt lips brush across her ear and had to bite her lower lip so that Layne wouldn't hear her moan. Huh, she's got me pinned on the floor and I love it. I love being manhandled--or womanhandled by Layne. I'm a masochist! And she didn't even care.

"Dylan I refuse to retaliate," the blonde started, her lips still close to her losing opponent's ear. "At least I won't in this house, because if I do we risk flinging paint on these walls, which we should finish today. If these walls get messed up I'll find a way to dropkick myself. But my darling Dylan," her voice lowered to a sultry whisper causing that moan to almost break out, "I do owe you for what you've done to me. I owe you so very damn much. When you least expect it I will exact my revenge. It may be today, may be tomorrow, may be next week or next month but it will be. Got that?"

Completely turned on Dylan nodded with the smaller woman's arm remaining against her throat. "It's crystal clear." I should not listen to you more often!

~~~~~~~~~~

April 14th 2006

Eyes on the inviting bubble bath she had just drawn, Dylan was about to unbutton her shirt when she thought she heard the front door close. Turning down the volume on her radio she listened. Nothing. Chalking it up to her ears playing tricks on her, Dylan proceeded to unbutton her shirt stopping at button number three. She didn't think she heard a door closing this time but footsteps. Few people had a key to her apartment and unless there was an emergency it was doubtful that any of them would use their key this late into the night.

Informing herself to remain calm, Dylan grabbed the closest object she could find to utilize as a weapon. Toilet plunger held in a tight grip she ever so carefully opened the bathroom door ready to go piñata crazy on the possible intruder if the need arose. The baby. She had to protect Robin and then hopefully get her hands on a phone.

Stepping out into the hallway, blue eyes darted around seeing no one. Dylan heard the sound of nothing but her own breathing as she tiptoed barefoot toward the nursery, her plunger held upward and ready to strike. The ringing of the landline startled her so much that she nearly dropped the plunger. Looking in every direction as she sprinted into the living room, Dylan grabbed the phone saying a gruff 'hello'.

"Hello Dylan," the rumbling male voice answered. "You sound upset. What's the matter dear?"

The brunette ignored her thudding heart and her clammy palms as she tightly gripped the phone. "Dear? Listen asshole I'm wielding a fully loaded shotgun and hunting happens to be my favorite sport. If I go a few weeks without killing something I get depressed. You want me coming after you?" He laughed sending a chill down her spine.

"Are they making shotguns nowadays that are disguised as plungers? That's neat. Which part of it is the trigger?"

Swearing underneath her breath, Dylan felt as though she were trapped in one of those Scream movies. Now all the caller had to do was ask what her favorite scary movie was.

"Dylan? Are you there dear?"

"I'm calling 911. You'll need an ambulance when I'm done with you."

Again he laughed. "Before you shoot me with your dangerous hydroforce blast cup you may want to check your bathroom."

The line went dead as Dylan slowly turned around and moved toward the bathroom. She had left the door open but it was now shut. She emitted a soft gasp when she caught someone's shadow moving through the bottom of the door. The caller was in her bathroom waiting for her to discover him. The plunger up again, Dylan took a deep breath and threw the door open before she could change her mind. With a mighty yell she was about to blindly strike at the intruder when squirts of iced cold water aimed at her body disrupted the plan.

Yelping, she took a step backward, shaking her head from side to side as fat drops cascaded down her face and dripped to the floor where her plunger lay. Small patches of her shirt and pants were damp, the skin beneath now cooled. Dylan regarded her 'intruder' with an eased expression until it suddenly metamorphosed into a semi-glare. That last look caused the person to capitulate by dropping the liquid shooting weapon at their feet. As if Dylan were about to arrest her she held up her hands, looking apprehensive one moment and sheepish the next.

"Shit," she whispered. "Uh Dylan…I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" One wet eyebrow slowly went upward. "Wasn't this intentional? The 'I'm watching you' call and attacking me with your Super Soaker?"

"Actually it's the Beast not a Super Soaker product." She swallowed with some difficultly when the penetrating eyes narrowed. "Though that really doesn't matter. Uh, yes it was intentional but now I'm realizing that perhaps I've gone too far with my retaliation?" Along with the water pump her toy gun had a paintball feature so she was relieved that she had talked herself out of using that.

"Is that a question?"

"No?"

Dylan chuckled dissolving at least a fraction of Layne's fears. "How were you able to sound like a man? I never knew you were so good with impersonations. Did you have one of those voice changer devices?"

"No, I had an accomplice." Before Dylan could inquire the blonde tattled. Every man--or woman in her case-- for himself. "Henry."

"He's still here?" Dylan glanced over her shoulder as though the skinny doorman would be standing in her apartment.

"No, he's home." Again she answered the yet to be asked question. "He knew about the plunger because I was talking with him on his cell while he talked with you on his home phone."

"Did he charge you?"

Layne nodded. "Of course. That man doesn't know what the word 'free' means." She and Dylan shared a laugh. "Am I forgiven? Sorry for scaring you. This was a dumb idea."

"Nah, actually I think it was crafty." She grinned. "Didn't know you had it in you Layne."

"So you forgive me?"

"Mmhmm. Just one thing?"

"What?"

The grin widened. "I hate being wet alone." Kicking the water gun out of her way she effortlessly picked up the protesting muralist and carried her toward the bathtub. Water and bubbles sloshed onto the tiled floor as Layne sank below the surface of the traditionally designed tub. More combinations of water and bubbles joined the wet mess when she tugged Dylan inside, the woman unceremoniously falling on top of her.

Layne couldn't give an answer to how she ended up wrapping her arms around Dylan's body, hands resting on her sopped back while they silently stared at one another as though they had slipped into a hypnotic state. Remembering how to blink Layne spoke first.

"We are so even pal. Do you know how difficult it is to walk in saturated jeans? It's a pain in the butt. If I stepped on a scale right now I'd be twenty pounds heavier. I betcha I would." She was jabbering because she was afraid if she didn't speak her lips would endeavor to do something else.

Dylan wordlessly reached under the water with Layne trying to locate her hand's whereabouts but the bubbles made that impossible. Within seconds the blonde's body vibrated with a gentle massage. The look on her face assured Dylan that she was enjoying it.

"How does your butt feel now?"

"Um, fine." Layne tried to keep her eyes away from the other woman's mouth. "Nice tub you have. Great air jets. Invigorating. Truly--Dylan no." She relocated her hands to Dylan's chest, applying a slight pressure. "We shouldn't."

The comic wasn't giving up that easily. "Why shouldn't we?"

"Er, it's not a holiday." In two more days it would be Easter. Layne was aware of today being Good Friday, but she wasn't certain that it should count toward their holiday kiss. Especially not squished together in a bathtub. Although they were fully dressed she didn't feel trustworthy enough to plant a kiss on Dylan in such a confined space.

Closing her eyes Dylan searched her brain for today's date. Ah, today was April 14th. Eyes reopening, she smiled at her friend with much triumph. "It's Black Day!"

"Black Day?" Layne wore the expression of a woman who was highly suspicious. Not making up holidays, are you Dylan? "What is that about? Is it a day reserved for people to dress in all black clothing? Sounds gothic or ominous."

"Not either of those. Don't let the name fool you. It's a holiday that originated in South Korea for people who are not romantically involved to get together and have an ebullient time drinking and eating noodles with black bean sauce, hence the name 'black'. It's like Valentine's Day for single folks."

"Wow, that's interesting. How did you know about it?"

"A few years ago I dated a woman named Sun who was from Korea. We were involved during April and on the fourteenth she mentioned that it was Black Day and explained it to me. Although we weren't head over heels for each other, we weren't single but she did invite me to a gathering with her unattached friends at a Chinese restaurant where I ate black noodles for the first time." Dylan paused. "And the last."

The blonde chuckled. "Didn't like them?"

"The noodles were fine but my taste buds disagreed with the sauce. Luckily their buffet was open and everything else I tried was delicious. And I had a great time. I think we were there close to three hours."

"So what you're saying is us two single people should honor Black Day by kissing?"

Dylan shrugged. "Would you rather try the black noodles? I'll go pick you up a box. You prefer chopsticks or a fork?"

Layne quickly shook her head, her hands falling on a pair of shoulders. "No, I'd probably enjoy the kiss more." I'd wager that your lips are tastier. "And just in case we have Chinese food at some point I'd prefer a fork."

Their soaked clothing slapped together as Dylan moved closer to her willing prey. "We're in agreement that we're kissing in honor of Black Day?"

"Yes, Black Day."

They closed their eyes simultaneously as their lips met for kiss number four. Mouths parted just a little, neither woman initially pressed for more, content to let their lips caress like they had all the time in the world. Dylan's moans escalated when she felt hands slipping underneath her shirt and fingertips running across her lower back. She recognized that Layne's knee had become wedged between her legs…far up between her legs and in that moment her knee bucked.

"Ah Layne," the brunette whispered, reaching into the pulsating water and clutching the back of her friend's thigh so that knee couldn't move. Sharing thoughts without words, Dylan coaxed Layne into opening her mouth further so that she could explore. Sliding between the moist lips she languidly stroked Layne's tongue, alternately sucking on it. The blonde seemed to approve because her earlier involuntary knee jerk had become purposeful, her fingers dancing higher until they teased at the clasp of Dylan's bra.

And then Robin announced that she was wide-awake through the baby monitor Dylan had placed in the bathroom when she prepared her bath. Regrettably allowing Layne to have her tongue back, the comic struggled into a sitting position, breathing shallow as she gave the other woman a soft smile.

"I'll go see what our little princess wants."

Layne nodded, watching her exit the bathtub leaving puddles in her wake as she walked out of the bathroom. When Dylan returned after changing a dirty diaper and singing a song from Journey's greatest hits album (one of Robin's favorite bands) Layne was out of the tub, seated on the rim of it, soggy socks and shoes on her lap. Walking up to her Dylan made a trade, giving her a pair of sweats, a T-shirt and slippers in exchange for the socks and shoes, which she dropped into a plastic sack.

Already changed into dry clothes, Dylan pointed toward the bathroom door. "I'll step out while you get changed. The clothes will be roomy on you, but they should do for the time being. Just leave your clothing on the floor and I'll wash and dry it all for you. If you're not too shy leave your underthings too." She smiled. "I offer free delivery service."

"Dylan you don't have to clean my clothes. I can take care of it." When she reached for the sack the brunette placed it behind her back.

"No, I dunked you in the bath therefore I'll take care of it. Now you get out of those wet clothes before you catch something." She almost sprinted from the bathroom to avoid a protest.

Minutes later Layne emerged, her nose twitching with the aroma of brewing coffee in the air. Heading into the kitchen she found her friend pulling a couple of mugs from the cabinet.

"Dylan I should get home," she said, her tone rueful. "I'm really tired." She caught the disappointment before the woman could hide it.

Pasting on a smile, Dylan put one mug back on its shelf. "Okay. I'll walk you to the door." As they moved through the living room she picked up Layne's water gun from the coffee table and handed it to her. "Don't forget your weapon." She started to apologize again for the stunt, but Dylan wouldn't hear it. "It really is fine sweetie. Hey, if you and Henry hadn't pulled that off we would have missed our holiday kiss."

Toy gun tucked under her arm, Layne opened the front door. "If not Black Day Easter is only two days away."

"Is that a date? A pucker up date?"

Softly smiling, Layne kissed the corner of the comic's mouth. Whispering goodnight to her she headed down the hall to the elevators. Door closed, Dylan returned to her kitchen where she poured a cup of coffee. Holding it between her palms she decided to sit on the couch for a while, mulling over tonight's events. It had taken an unexpected interesting turn. She and Layne kissed--heatedly. They practically made out!

A couple of sips from her coffee and she put it on the table before she stretched out on the couch, one arm crooked behind her head. She stared toward the ceiling and wondered about tomorrow. Would they continue on as though the kisses never happened or didn't amount to anything?

"I think I might be falling in love with her," Dylan admitted to an empty room. She snorted in reply to the declaration. "Who am I trying to kid? I'm already there." She glanced toward the phone. She needed to speak with Angela, but it would wait until morning because she knew her sister had a penchant for having an anxiety attack anytime the phone rang after 10 p.m.

~~~~~~~~~~

April 17th 2006

Ringing the doorbell, Dylan listened as more than one pair of feet rushed toward the door as though there was a race to see who could answer it first. She found out that her assumption was correct when she heard her nephew victoriously shout 'I beat ya' just before he unlocked and opened the door. His face brightened all the more when he saw her.

"Auntie Dyl!" He rushed toward her and she picked him up, cradling the boy in her arms. She found a smile when he deposited a damp kiss on her cheek. "What's shakin' bacon?"

"Not a thing chicken wing."

Calvin giggled like he always did those occasions when they greeted one another that way. However, his giggle faded when he studied her reddened and puffy eyes. "You been crying? Whatsamatter?"

"Nothing baby," she tried reassuring him. Even at his young age Calvin didn't seem to be buying it. "I'm fine. Just allergies."

"Since when did you have allergies?" The lawyer in the now six-year-old had returned. "You only sniffle when you're sick." And he could barely recall seeing her sick in the past!

Michael his father rescued Dylan from having to explain. "Hey Cal why don't you go help Natalie with her puzzle. She's having some trouble finding the right pieces to fit together and I'm sure she'd be appreciative."

"So you and Auntie Dyl can have an adult talk?" Calvin asked after Dylan put him on his own feet.

Michael smiled at his son who was too perceptive for six. "Yes sir. Your Mom and I will find out what's wrong and fill you in later."

"Promise?"

"I do."

Calvin looked up at his adored aunt. "I love you. Don't be sad, 'kay?" Wrapping his arms around her legs, he squeezed tightly.

Bending, she kissed the top of his head. "I won't buddy and I love you too."

Once Calvin had run up the stairs to provide his older sibling with an assistant, Michael pulled his sister-in-law into the house and shut the door. An arm around her shoulders, he walked her into the living room.

"So what's going on?" He sent a silent prayer that he would hear the garage door opening any second, which meant that Angela had returned from the grocery store with the bag of cornmeal she needed to prepare dinner. She was much better at these sensitive talks than he was. Michael considered himself better with actions than words. Perhaps he could stall by asking Dylan if she wanted some coffee or tea. That way Angela might be home by the time he filled a mug.

"Mike?"

"Yeah?" And cookies! I could throw some of those pre-cut cookie dough slices in the oven. That's a good fifteen minutes of stalling right there. Unless she follows me into the kitchen.

Dylan patted the hand clenched around his knee. "I can wait for Angie to get home."

"How do you know she isn't here?"

The brunette smiled. "Because if she were you would have obtained her before I could step over the threshold." Her brother-in-law chuckled. "I know this isn't your thing, but I thank you for trying."

Although relieved that he was off the hook, Michael asked her if she was certain that she wanted to wait for Angela. Dylan nodded the moment the garage door began to open. Perfect timing.

Michael decided to start dinner while the two sisters had a talk in the office. Seated on the short leather couch they faced each other. Angela had already guessed what this was about before Dylan could explain.

"What happened honey? It didn't go well?" She softly inquired, glancing toward the desk to make sure there was a box of tissues just in case.

"No," Dylan whispered. "Any hope I had has been dashed."

"What did she say specifically?"

"Her heart has been broken enough and she wouldn't dare entrust it to someone like me. I'm a ho who wouldn't understand the meaning of the word commitment if I went back to school and took a semester long course in it."

Angela appeared completely dumbfounded. "What? That doesn't sound like Layne! She uttered those specific words to you?!" In the middle of making breakfast with Michael Saturday morning she received a phone call from her sister. The first words out of Dylan's mouth were 'I'm in love with her' and she needed help in how to deal with it. Should she tell Layne or just keep her mouth shut? Angela was in favor of the first idea because it served three purposes.

One, her intuition told her that if Layne and Dylan just broke down those walls and gave each other a chance that their love could last for the next fifty years plus. Two, unless Dylan chose to move to NYC, her niece would be within an easy driving distance. And three, along with Robin she would miss Layne, who already felt like another sister despite she and Dylan only being friends. If they ended up together and married Layne would legally be her sibling.

Inviting her sister over for breakfast they spent a near two hours talking about Dylan's just discovered feelings. By the end of the conversation the older woman had declared that she would share her feelings with Layne Monday. Why Monday her sister inquired. Not today because it was too abrupt--she wasn't prepared-- not tomorrow because it was Easter and in the event that their talk didn't go well it would disrupt that important holiday, so she mentally penciled Monday in.

Dylan shook her head. "No, she was nice when letting me down but that's essentially what she could have said if she were brusque."

"How do you nicely refer to someone as being a ho? How did Layne state that in a nice way?"

"She didn't really. I'm calling myself a ho."

"Why?"

Sighing, Dylan looked toward her lap. "I've had more girlfriends/one night stands/flings than birthdays. My 'little black book' could give the Yellow Pages competition. Face it Angie--your big sister is a salacious slut."

"Dylan!"

Her voice quiet, she replied, "It's true. I don't blame Layne for not wanting to be with me." Dylan's voice started to tremble. "I don't deserve her anyway."

"Dylan I wish that you would cease this sudden self bashing. You are far from being a salacious slut. You're a wonderful kindhearted person among many other positive attributes. Any woman would be lucky to have you."

Shoulders quickly moving up and down the comic began to cry. "That's the problem. A lot of them have!"

"Oh honey." She pulled her sister close, holding on tight as she wept. Once she settled down a bit, Angela handed her a couple of tissues. "Now could you tell me what Layne really said to you?" She gently asked.

Dabbing at her cheeks and then blowing her nose, Dylan tossed one tissue into a wastebasket. "Um, she said that although she has some feelings for me that she doesn't want to get involved with anyone. She cares for me but doesn't believe that either of us is ready for that type of commitment. She just got out of a relationship and I…she didn't really finish that thought. In conclusion she just wouldn't want to risk ruining our friendship. Things are great between us as is."

"I didn't get Dylan you're a commitment phobic ho out of that."

"She said that I wasn't ready for a commitment but added herself so it wouldn't sound so harsh. She said 'we' when I think that she really meant just 'me'. Her main reason for not being ready is because she just got out of a relationship and she neglected to say why I wasn't ready. My guess is Layne believes I'm not ready because of the way I've lived. At 35 I've never offered my heart to anyone and I go through women like it's a hobby."

"Private question but the answer is imperative. When was the last time you had sex?"

"About a week before I found Robin on my doorstep." Did she miss it? Of course! However, in the beginning she had her hands full with Robin so having sex plummeted to the bottom of her list. Shortly after Layne entered the picture she couldn't so much as dream of sleeping with anyone unless that person happened to be about 5'6" with short blonde hair and gray eyes and named Layne Bishop. The thought of picking up a woman in a nightclub or hooking up with a casual friend sickened her.

Nudging her, Angela gave her sister a proud smile. "You see? You haven't done the deed in five months! That proves you're not a ho! I haven't taken a survey but I'm willing to bet that most hoes--true hoes don't deliberately give up sex for almost half of the year." Dylan started laughing because for some reason she thought that was hilarious. It was the first time she laughed that day. Infectious, Angela joined in, sobering after a minute.

"Dyl, just because you haven't offered your heart doesn't mean you're not ready to now. There's no minimum age limit on when we are allowed to find love. Forget your age. You're in love now and that's all that counts. Don't concede defeat. Prove to Layne that you're capable of giving her all the love she needs and wants plus more. I know you can do that--you believe it too."

"But she doesn't want me. Layne doesn't want to get involved."

"She's scared honey. Show her that she doesn't have to be scared with you. They're supposed to leave in August?" Dylan nodded. "That gives you four months to convince her." Angela nudged her again, a faint smile on her lips. "Get busy big sissy."

~~~~~~~~~~

Collecting every videotape and DVD she could find along with a few issues of Playboy, Dylan taped up the cardboard box that she would dispose of in an alley dumpster two miles away from her apartment. Jimmy might cry if he was aware that she was throwing away every racy film he had ever given her. She hadn't realized there were so many until she stacked them inside the box.

Balancing the box in one arm, Dylan opened the front door just as Layne's social worker was about to knock. When asked if she was psychic the brunette chuckled, hoping that the social worker didn't catch on to the nervousness in it. Dylan didn't want her knowing that she Robin's aunt was holding a box full of soft porn lesbian oriented movies. It might reflect back on Layne somehow.

"Hello Evangeline," Dylan greeted, placing both arms underneath the box.

"Hello back at you Dylan. You want some help with that?"

The comic thought she said no a little too quickly. "Are you looking for Layne? I don't think she's home right now." This was quite a prompt visit considering she had checked in on Layne and Robin just two days ago.

"Actually I came to see you." Evangeline affably smiled when alarm flitted across the younger woman's face. "Nothing is wrong. I just wanted a few minutes of your time unless you're busy. I started to call first."

"Oh, don't you worry about it. Right now is fine." Dropping the box on the floor she asked the social worker to come inside. "Would you care for anything to drink?" Dylan inquired as they settled on her couch.

"No thank you Dylan. I just finished off a 24 oz. coffee so that's enough liquid for now." Smiling again she put her purse on the coffee table. "Wanted to ask you a few questions, however, you're not obligated to answer. This visit mostly pertains to my curiosity."

Speaking of curiosity, Dylan curiously raised both eyebrows. "Okay. What would you like to ask?"

"Are you and Layne platonic?"

Unfortunately. "Yes."

"Do you foresee your relationship with her remaining that way?"

Unfortunately. "Yes."

"Dylan," the social worker softened her voice, "do you want it to remain platonic?"

She sighed, choosing to be truthful. "No. I love her. I mean I love her."

"The first time I saw the two of you, how you interacted with each other, looked at each other, I wondered why you weren't adopting Robin together. Through the past three months I've witnessed the growing love between you two and yet you remain mere friends and Layne intends to take the baby back to New York in August. This part of the case I'm aware isn't my business and either way I know Robin will be well cared for and loved, but as far as I'm concerned you're her mother too."

Wanting to occupy her hands, Dylan grabbed a pen from her coffee table and began to twirl it between her fingers. "The moment I found Robin on my doorstep I wanted nothing to do with her. A bit later I was content being her guardian shortly followed by my liking the idea of being her aunt. And now," she lightly tapped the capped pen against her knee, "yes, thinking of myself as her mother doesn't scare the shit out of me." Dylan sheepishly glanced up at the social worker. "Sorry about the swearing."

"Not necessary. I think that most in this world have sworn at least once." She winked one big brown eye. "Have you discussed this with Layne?" Dylan replied with a quiet no. "Maybe if you did the two of you could figure out how to co-parent and I'd be glad to assist you if you want. You could move back to New York with them or maybe Layne would select to live here in good old San Francisco permanently."

The pen at rest, Dylan rested her chin in her palm, looking reflective. "San Francisco is good isn't it? Better than stuffy crowded New York." She cracked a smile as Evangeline released a rich chuckle.

"Born and raised in S.F. I could be biased. I've traveled to various parts of New York over the years and those were some enjoyable visits but uh yeah, San Francisco is where it's at!" Her chuckle turned into a full-fledged laugh along with Dylan's smile.


Continued in Part 3