Once the house is in sight, Kate's gait slows to a series of staccato, halting steps. It's a miracle she doesn't pull a neat about-face and sprint in the opposite direction, but miracle or curse, she finds herself at the gate. There's a woman on her knees tending the garden, and it isn't until she looks up that her sunhat reveals Betty's face.

Kate freezes.

Holding a hand up to block the sun, Betty says a friendly, "Hello!" After a moment passes with no reply, Betty drops her hand and gets to her feet, takes a step closer, then squints. Her mouth opens, ready to speak, then closes again as she swallows. Trying again, she says, "Kate?"

Hands resting on the peaks of the white picket fence, Kate nods. Her mind is busy cataloguing as her eyes take in everything about Betty: her men's work clothes, soil at the knees and waist; the no-nonsense straw hat shielding her from the sun; her sturdy gardening gloves, trowel in one hand. And the way her cheeks glow from the warmth of the summer afternoon, the way the sun glints gold off her blonde hair.

Taking another step forward, Betty cocks her head, hardly blinking. "I wasn't sure I'd ever see you again."

Ten years it's been, since the war ended. Ten years since the day Kate was sure she would finally be able to find her own, perfect, normal little life. Ten years since she said a firm goodbye to her friend Betty McRae.

All Kate can do is nod.

"Well…" Betty tugs off her gloves, slapping them against her pants and holding them in one hand; never taking her eyes off Kate. "It's hot as the dickens out here, so I guess we'd better go inside. That is… I hope you'll come in?"

Kate nods again, looks down and fumbles the catch on the gate. Betty is there in a flash, but her hands are careful not to touch Kate's. She pulls the gate open, toward herself, and Kate ducks her head and walks by, blushing.

After closing the gate, Betty jogs to the front door, pushing it open and letting Kate enter ahead of her. From inside the house a female voice calls, "Betty?" and Betty calls back, "Yes, it's me. I'll come to you in just a minute." Offering a confused smile, Betty leads Kate into the living room, getting her settled on the settee and saying, "I'll fetch us some refreshments, don't you move."

She strides out of the room and soon Kate hears a bright, "There you are!" followed by much softer murmuring. Kate twists around on the couch, feeling awkward, and says, "Oh, dear." She's amazed she's even gotten this far after months of dithering, but now pulling a runner is starting to seem like her best option. She stands up and takes a few steps across the small room, then turns and walks back.

Betty returns before she gets much farther, and Kate turns toward her, hands twisting around one another. Betty is carrying a tray bearing glasses which she places on the coffee table, a game and curious expression on her face.

"Should I not have come? I feel like I shouldn't have come."

Sitting on the couch, Betty lays her hands in her lap and looks up at Kate. "I'd say that depends on the reason for the visit."

"That's just it," Kate says, sitting down again. Betty's face is inscrutable except for a narrowing of the eyes. Kate wrings her hands again and casts about. "Your friend…?"

Betty smiles and this time it looks real, like a reflex. "Lucy. I'm afraid she's busy in the kitchen and can't come say hello just yet, but she will. I'd like for you to meet her."

"Gladys told me you had… a roommate."

At that Betty's fingers twitch, only just enough to notice, and Kate's eyes drop. There is a ring – not gold, not on her left hand, not on her ring finger. Kate can't look away from it.

Turning the ring gently with her other hand, Betty says, "It isn't legal, of course. But to us, it's real."

Kate springs off the couch at that point and twists in the centre of the room like a leaf caught in a mini cyclone. She walks to the wall and quickly passes over the art, the doilies, the knick knacks. She doesn't actually see anything but says, voice pitched high, "It's a lovely house!"

From her seat Betty follows Kate around the room, a frown beginning to furrow her brow. When Kate begins to pick things up and put them down again, knocking them against one another with shaking hands, Betty says sharply, "Kate," and once she has her attention, more softly, "Please come sit down and tell me what this is all about."

She does sit, and reaches into her bag, pulling out a compact, which she then turns in her hands. At first she watches it, then raises her eyes to Betty. "I got your address from Gladys. She told me you'd bought the house you'd always dreamed of. That you had a good job, working with your hands, a wonder that only you could pull off. That's what she said – only Betty." Kate nods slowly; Betty only listens.

"She told me, so many times, of course. To call you, to see you for a visit. She said you had—that you were living—" One shoulder rises in a shrug. "I knew I could only do this once. I shouldn't even be doing it at all, I know that, and I pray you'll forgive me."

Betty still watches in silence, only the pucker between her brows hinting at her thoughts.

Kate turns the compact over once more and then opens it, removing a folded piece of paper and holding it up between two fingers. "I've been carrying this around for six months. I knew I could only do this once." She stares at the paper for a moment, curls her fingers toward her palm, then holds the slip out to Betty, who takes it and looks questioningly to Kate. Are you sure? Kate nods.

Slowly, delicately, Betty unfolds the paper and smoothes it out on her lap. Kate watches her read it, knowing the words written there by heart: I am still in love with you. She doesn't hold her breath, and her heart doesn't stop; she has come into this with a 99% certainty that it will not end well for her, and that she has to do it anyway.

Betty's fingers glide over the paper, tracing the words. Pressing her palm on top of it, she closes her eyes and bows her head.

When the silence stretches on long enough that Kate fears she might explode, she says, "You did more for me before I was even truly alive than anyone else has ever done for me. I am not here to ask of you. I am sorry that I came here and I will leave as soon as you say. I had to do something and now I've done it; that's all."

When the silence continues, Kate says desperately, "I'm sorry—" but Betty puts her hand up and smiles, a wan, resigned smile.

"Kate, the last thing I'd do would be to condemn you for telling the truth. I want—I would very much like to have you in my life again, as a friend. Is that on the table?"

Kate huffs a sigh of relief, tinged by tears. "Can we? Not—not like the old days, but the old characters in a new light? That would make me very happy."

Betty smiles, nods, soft eyes resting on Kate's face. She hesitates before saying, "If it's not too soon, would you meet Lucy? She knows you're here, and…" Kate draws in a giant breath and Betty hurries to add, "But I'm sure we could do it any other time, if you would prefer."

Holding up a finger, Kate closes her eyes and breathes deeply, attempting to centre herself. After a moment, when the ache in her eyes has lessened and she feels steadier, she looks to Betty and smiles, as serenely as she is capable of.

"I would love to meet her."

A/N: Didn't realize this would be a multi-chaptered thing, but it appears to be so. See you in a bit.