Author's Note: So basically this is my interpretation of what Grell and Madam Red would be like in a modern AU where they didn't get so screwed over by life. They'd be happily married. Grell is a non-op trans woman who likes her body just the way it is, but considers herself to be just as much a woman as her lovely wife, and she works as a professor of Queer Theory and writer on the same subject. Angelina is a noted Gynecologist, pro-choice activist, and noted as well in LGBTQ and feminist activist circles. They live together in San Francisco and have an adorable five year old daughter named Anthea. They're also active in San Francisco's BDSM scene (because Grell and Ann wouldn't be Grell and Ann if they didn't love blood). If anyone likes it more shall be forthcoming.
"I just had the strangest dream," said Angelina Sutcliff one morning as she awoke beside her wife in their house in San Francisco. "Humm," said Grell sleepily absentmindedly grinding her morning wood against Angelina in a recognized gesture of conjugal affection.
"I dreamt that we were Jack the Ripper, and we went about killing prostitutes because they'd had abortions and I think I'd had my womb removed after a carriage accident or something, she said.
Grell hummed again before waking up enough to understand what her wife had just said. "That's funny, are you having Catholic guilt again?" she teased crawling on top of the other woman.
"I was never Catholic, I was Anglican, and I never had any to start with," said Angelina with a laugh, "I couldn't very well do the work I do if I did."
"Hmm, indeed oh world's greatest gynecologist and pro-choice advocate," purred Grell, "not to mention radical queer activist and honorary professor of women's studies at Brown and... if I may say total MILF."
Angelina laughed, throwing her arms around Grell who's long silken red hair tumbled around her shielding her sweetly from the morning sun
"Mmm, I love you, oh lauded professor of Queer Theory, impassioned writer on the same subject, genderwarrior seminal riot grrl guitarist and if I may also say, total MILF," she replied.
"And I love you, bearer of my children, light of my life, cook of my breakfast."
She chuckled. "Good thing Anthea's over at grandmas for a week, hm?" she said, wrapping her legs around her wife to grind on that delightful erection. She purred.
"What were you dreaming about dear?" asked the doctor, raising an eyebrow. Grell's nimble fingers carded through Angelina's long hair, and she smirked.
"You," she answered simply, raising the hem of the red satin night gown her beloved wore.
"What about me?" asked Angelina.
"What I'm going to do to you at Flora's play party tonight."
"Oh," said an eager Ann.
"Well..." said Grell, lifting the hem of Ann's gown higher, and smirking at her with that toothy grin "first I'm going to take you in on a leash, all dressed up for me, to show you off, like the exquisite red rose you are," she added, a hand working up under the nighty to massage those lush breasts, "and then I'm going to beat you bloody, because I love you."
"You're ridiculous," said Angelina, brushing her fingers into the other woman's hair.
"And you love it, darling," said Grell, grinding her erection against the other woman smirking.
"Perhaps a bit," said a smirking Ann, reaching up to grab her wife's hips, parting her legs.