Author: Pirate Turner
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Blanche is tired . . . of cheesecake . . . and men!
Warnings: Femme Slash
Word Count: 1,307
Date Written: 28 February, 2011
Disclaimer: Blanche, Dorothy, Rose, Sophia, Disney World, and the Golden Girls are & TM their respective owners, none of whom are the author; are used without permission; and may not be used without permission. The author makes absolutely no profit off of this work of fan fiction, and no copyright infringement is intended.
"Ah don't believe it, Dorothy!" Blanche cried. "Ah - Ah just don't believe it!" she repeated, her voice shaking even as it grew shriller. She looked up at her dearest friend, and Dorothy felt herself stirred yet again by Blanche's fragile beauty. Despite her skin being as pale as a ghost; her makeup running down her wet, shining face in black streaks; and her eyes having become red and puffy from all the tears she had let loose, Blanche was still the most breath-taking, beautiful woman that Dorothy had ever saw.
Dorothy's heart immediately leapt into her throat even as anger flooded her being. She ached to tear apart whatever jerk had hurt her dearest friend this time, but before she could help Blanche, she had to find out what was wrong. Slowly, trying not to let the shaking of her soul inside appear on her outward body, Dorothy took Blanche into her arms and hugged her. She burned to do much more to comfort and, in truth, love her best friend, but she dared never make such a move on Blanche. She knew she would be so repulsed, if she did, that she would scream, push her away, throw her out of her home, and lock her forever out of her life, and so she clung to their friendship, determined to make it last instead and never admit to the love that filled her every being for the woman currently sobbing her heart out inside the safe confines of her arms.
"What happened this time?" Dorothy asked, wincing at the tight harshness reflected in her voice. She hoped Blanche did not hear the strangled emotions and mistake them for anger at herself for Dorothy knew that her real anger was aimed at the jerk who was the cause of Blanche's tears and her own self for feeling the way she did and being helpless to ever make her true intentions known. If Blanche would ever look at her in the same light that she did, she would protect her as a steadfast Knight caring for his, or her, lady should; keep her happy forever; and make her know real love for the first time in her life. If only Blanche would love her, Dorothy swore silently, she would never know sorrow again and only love and happiness for the rest of her days.
But Dorothy knew such would never happen. She oft teased Blanche about not being capable of true love, but, in truth, Blanche had more than enough love to fill the world. The only problem was she felt it all for guys, and no guy was worthy of the Queen that Dorothy knew her beloved Blanche to be. They would always only hurt her, and every courtship would end with Blanche crying in her arms. Though Dorothy relished those moments that she got to touch Blanche with her love's guard down and broken, she hated any one who would make her cry and yearned to be able to wipe away her tears and keep even one from ever falling again. It would never happen, though, Dorothy knew, and she accepted that yet again with a heart-broken sigh of frustration.
"What happened?" she repeated again and was surprised to find Blanche looking up at her with a strange, myriad of emotions mixed upon her beautiful face. She had stopped crying, and Dorothy witnessed her shock plainly upon her face. For a moment, Dorothy's heart stopped beating. Did she know? After all these years of being so careful to keep her love for her hidden, had Blanche somehow realized how she truly felt? Was this to be the end of their friendship?
Yet, then, Blanche sobbed again, her voice breaking as she wailed, "Ah'm tired o' cheesecake!" Dorothy stared at her in shock, her mouth open but no words coming out, but Blanche's next realization completely floored her. "An' Ah'm tired o' men!"
"B-Blanche - " Dorothy spoke slowly, inwardly kicking herself for allowing her voice to shake lest it draw Blanche's attention too close to her, " - w-wh-what do you mean you're tired of men?"
"Ah mean," Blanche exclaimed, growing flustered, "Ah'm tired o' men! It's th' same ol', same ol' every time! Ah mean, sure, th' sex is great, but that's all they want out o' me! None o' 'em really wanna be serious! They're just in it fer a good time!"
Another tear rolled down Blanche's face, and before Dorothy could stop herself, she had moved her hand, catching her tear with a finger pressed slightly against the soft flesh of her cheek. Their eyes met, and they gazed up into one another's eyes. Dorothy's heartbeat quickened, and as it pounded like an army of fireworks inside her ears and mind, she wondered about the way Blanche was looking at her. Her love's eyes were sparkling with untold emotions, and for the first time in their time together, Dorothy dared to hope.
If Blanche was truly tired of men, was she ready to try a woman? If she was exhausted of having her heart broken, was she at last willing to try some one who would never break it and would sooner take her own life before making her cry ever again, even if that some one was a person who, by everything they'd ever heard or been told, should be banned from ever daring to even think about loving her? Was she ready for real love? Did she . . . could she ever possibly . . . love her?
Slowly, Dorothy inclined her head towards Blanche's. Her eyes continued to search hers as she leaned down, seeking desperately for any sign of acceptance or rebuttal. "So," she spoke, with a sly smile inching across her handsome face, "try some real, sweet cake with lavender frosting."
"L-lavender frosting?" Blanche whispered, but then Dorothy's lips were upon hers. She gasped underneath the onslaught of her best friend's heated lips, but the silken, fluid passion running between them quickly melted away her doubts. She grasped her face within her hands instead and kissed her back with full passion, her tongue slipping into her mouth.
Dorothy felt like screaming her joy through the heavens! Blanche was kissing her! Her fondest dreams were coming true as Blanche not only kissed her but built their passion, wrapped her arms around her, and drew her closer! Blanche loved her! Her woman - the sweet, wonderful, feisty woman she loved - loved her!
As Dorothy shouted her pleasure, screaming "YES!" throughout every fiber of her heart, soul, and mind, as with every inch of her body she strove to prove her love to her soul mate now that Blanche was at long last ready to welcome her, Dorothy smiled. She turned over in her sleep, wrapped her arm around her love, and drew her closer against her. Sophia and Rose would be home tomorrow from their trip to Disney World, but in the mean time, Dorothy planned on enjoying every second shared in splendid rapture with her true love.
Her dream might not have been the way they had really gotten together, but it didn't matter. She nonetheless enjoyed her dream and would enjoy the reality of her living dream far more when they awoke. As she lifted her head from Blanche's in her sleep, Dorothy whispered aloud as she cried out in her dream, "I love you."
Blanche glowed with happiness as she snuggled closer into Dorothy. "Ah love ya, too," she whispered, hoping this vacation would never end and knowing their love would last forever and beyond. She grinned in her sleep. Trying lavender cake was the best thing she'd ever done, and she was definitely never going back to men now that she had experienced the real love that she'd only ever find in her best friend's arms!
The End