Tamerlane had long grown used to Verna coaxing her to eat, gently scooping food into her mouth and taking her time to ready it, all but baby-birding the food into her as they kiss. It’s not her favorite technique but it works. So Verna starts to change it up. Candy, the ‘hooker’, Verna’s chosen way to get closer to Tamerlane at first. Soft fingers scoop peanut butter from the pack, smooth it into her mouth, Candy’s hum soft as Tamerlane sucks and curls her tongue around her fingers, using a technique that puts the focus on pleasure, not food. Kitty, the face Verna had used with Leo, sweetly teasing, sensually smearing Peanut butter against Tamerlane’s lips until she can’t help but lick her lips clean. Repeated over and over, but enough. Pam, Vic’s sickly patient, one of Verna’s softer looks. She’s delicate with Tamerlane looking like this, cradling her gently, coaxing her to latch, sucking Peanut Butter from her chest. It’s slow, hard, work but Verna as Pam is too soft to ignore. Leslie, the demolition worker, Verna looks most butch like this but is still incredibly sweet. Pretending to understand when she refuses food, teasing her into trying to kiss her, sneaking the food between them so Tamerlane is forced to bite, chew, swallow. Philippa, Cami’s security guard, soft but butch enough that Tamerlane half-swoons into her embrace, letting herself be cradled, sucking peanut butter off Verna’s fingers with a weak whine. She likes it, even when she’s embarrassed. Ruby, the red death, sexual and sensual and so teasing that Tamerlane laughs as she licks the peanut butter from her hips, then follows the trail lower. Food may never be easy, but she feels safer now, able, finally, to eat. Breakfast becomes a game, guessing which Verna she’ll get, how she’ll eat, but she does. She eats and she smiles and she finally, finally, finds peace.

Tamerlane had been tentative, at first, skating. She was bundled in plenty of layers and held tightly to Verna’s hand as they skate, slipping a little and laughing shyly when Verna tugs her closer. She’s more comfortable the longer they skate, the two growing comfortable with being intimate had taken a while but this, skating, had been a good test. She’s safe, now, loved and wanted. She was still laughing as she glanced over at Morella, the one Usher wife she had always liked. Frederick had always been hated but Morella, Morella was sweet, warm and kind and clearly happier with Victorine. The two had been a surprise, but Tamerlane had to admit she was glad for it. Victorine had proven a friend when she suffered her not so minor panic attack after the Goldbug launch and Morella had encouraged her to continue seeing the woman both Morella and Victorine knew as Candy. Candy who was Verna, Candy who she knew now was Verna, a Raven, someone who should have haunted her to death but had taken pity when she broke too quickly, choosing instead to love her. This, here, was right, happiness felt good.

Bill is gone. The fact settles into Tamerlane’s bones. Then, finally, a knock at the door. She opens the door to Candy, her eyes trailing over the woman slowly before she makes her choice, stepping back to let her in. Candy follows her to the table once the door is locked, shedding her coat and showing off the same soft green camisole she had worn before, her simple shorts also a soft green. Delicate but beautiful. Candy settles, watching her set out plates and food, then takes her hands, gently, when she sits, leaning to gently, sweetly, press their lips together, kissing just enough to be felt, no more, no less. “Beautiful home you have here, beautiful home for a beautiful girl…” Tamerlane’s smile is soft, a little shy but she speaks all the same, her voice gentle, a little inquisitive. “Are you always so… kind?” “Yes, Darling… especially with sweet girls like you.” They talk then, whilst they eat, Tamerlane picking at her food just enough to bother Candy into leaning to kiss her again, coaxing her to eat from her fork instead, smiling as she finished her plate of food, helping Tamerlane clean the table, folding back the table cloth before backing Tamerlane against it, kissing her again, deeply and gently. “Sweetheart…. Is this okay?” A smile, a nod then the kisses return, Tamerlane taking control and pulling her closer, the two spending time just there, Tamerlane perched on the table, just enjoying the feeling of one another.

Shasta is trembling as she slips into Georgina’s home, the apartment hidden away where nobody sees. She’s quiet now, mute almost, wide-eyed and soaked through and so cold Georgina can feel the ice in her veins before she even touches her. It’s easy to strip away the hat, the coat, the shoes and socks, the dress slips from Shasta like a whisper and Georgina leads her quietly now, wrapping a fresh dress around Shasta, her fingers careful as she ties the dress closed, watching Shasta carefully, cupping her cheek gently in a hand. “Come on, let’s warm you up.” She’s settled soon enough, Shasta nestling close when she draws her down into her lap, a small, hiccuping sob escaping her before Georgina moves, loosening her own robe and coaxing her gently to settle, latch, at her chest, humming softly when Shasta does, finally, settle. “Good girl, just rest, little light. I’ve got you.” Shasta’s curls are soft under her fingers, the soft sound of Shasta’s breathing buried in the crackling of the fire, warming her even as Georgina cradles her, the peace washing over her soothing her completely. Cold weather used to bother her, but since Shasta had started to come home in the cold, she didn’t mind it so much anymore.

Later, much, later, after Shasta brings her home before dawn, she wakes to Shasta asleep by her side, smiling as she slips an arm around the woman, letting love heal her heart.

It starts almost accidentally. Beverly is visiting, as she often does, to help with Easter, with Spring, with giving praise. She finds Charlotte alone many days, alone, giving thanks or repenting. Feelings build, slowly. Dominic keeps Charlotte at home, refuses to take her with him, takes Henry. The children are half-orphaned, Charlotte is lost, troubled. Winter brings tears, mourning, a fight to forgive herself, but Spring bring Beverly. Beverly and sunshine. She’s young, Charlotte thinks, so young. There’s a flinch, when Beverly reveals her wounds, the deep grooves of a dog’s bite, not once, but several times. Charlotte spends that Spring healing the young woman, healing her own heart in the process. Beverly goes, then Spring and she’s back. This time she doesn’t leave, not alone. She takes Charlotte with her, the children too, leading them all to a new home, a new life. Nobody on Crockett knows Charlotte or her older, more ridiculous, risky, habits. They know her only as Beverly’s love, the woman who makes Beverly Keane soften, trust and heal. Spring now, brings memories, but it also brings renewal, it brings Charlotte and Beverly walking together, Charlotte quick to beat back the dog that runs, barks and snarling and snapping, at Beverly. Then, when it is over, the dog leashed and owner told off, Beverly allows Charlotte to lead her away, hold her close, sooth the fear still making her heartbeat ragged. She is safe here and Spring will become her favorite season.

Charlotte. Charlotte. Charlotte. Hannah’s thoughts are fixed on the other woman. She’s quiet, umbrella overhead, her pace quickening as she passes the Houses of Parliament. She can feel the pull to find Charlotte, even if she’s still not sure what on earth made her follow Charlotte down here, to London. Then she sees her, the woman is alone, on a bench. There’s tears stinging her eyes and she stiffens as Hannah approaches, then sighs. Hannah’s smile is small, warm, careful. She sits slowly, her eyes still locked on Charlotte. “It’s over, isn’t it?” A whimper breaks from Charlotte and Hannah pulls her closer, letting her cry. “Then  you come home with me, leave it all behind.”

“I need more chalk…” The words are followed by the door shutting, the lock clicking even as Erin moves closer. Beverly’s eyes lock onto the floor, a small pulse of fear flickers over her and Erin’s steps slow, her voice soft. “What happened?” “Oh, nothing… silly really…” Erin is in her space in seconds, arms around her waist, lips pressed to soft hairline, fingers tangling into the plait of Beverly’s long hair. “What happened?” “Just kids…” “Who?” Names follow and Erin’s eyes close, her grip tightening on Beverly’s back and plait, her voice low and softly husky. “I’ll talk to them.” A promise, then Erin’s voice dips a little. “You have chalk on your cheek… and chin.” Her touch is soft, brushing the chalk away before her lips cover Beverly’s gently, a sweet kiss of promise. “Stay, do the dusting… I’ll talk to them.” A promise, again, but Erin is slow to move away, gathering the pack of chalk and smiling softly at Beverly before she makes her way back to the classroom. She will talk to the boys later, make it clear if they want her respect, they will leave Beverly alone, no matter how frustrating she is.