"I can't promise to always know what I'm doing or that I won't step backward while trying to move forward but I really want to see where this goes."

"I heard everything you said…I will, um, call you."

0 0 0

But that abruptly ended conversation was months ago now.

Of course, at the time, those words made some kind of crazy sense to Bianca's shocked mind. She'd rather face the intervention of her mother – or who she thought was her mother – then to voice the more intimate feelings rolling around in her body in front of J.R. And, maybe, while facing down Erica Kane and the strange addiction the woman seemed to have for David Hayward, Bianca could figure out what she really wanted to say to Marissa in that moment.

She didn't figure it out, though.

And, really, that is because she already knew what to say. The words had been there, in Bianca's heart, for so long now. Paragraphs written and then erased – only to return the next day; endless sentences all about how pretty and intelligent friends tend to be her own personal Achilles' heel.

Bianca knows this story up one way and down the other.

Bianca thought she knew the ending as well.

When she finally saw Marissa again, the two of them standing in a half-empty apartment with haphazardly packed boxes on the floor, Bianca realized that this was one story that she didn't have the future chapters to. She did not know how this tale would end…

…only that she was tired of waiting for it to begin.

0 0 0

"Are you okay?"
"…Would it be weird for me to say yes? I mean, all of this is kind of crazy and new… and things with J.R. are not good, not even
close to good, and I don't know if they will ever be and then there's A.J., but I look at you and I'm okay. When I look at you, I am more than okay."

Oh, her armor was thick in those days. Welded together with years of love lost and broken vows, Bianca had kept her emotions in fearful check for so long and she was terrified of letting it all go. But there was Marissa, surrounded by the ruins of a relationship never meant to be, and the woman was still able to say what needed to be said.

Just like that day in J.R.'s mansion. Just like that moment by the lake.

Brave. Absolutely brave in the face of Bianca's past wounds and current misgivings – and how could Bianca not step closer to the edge? How could she run away this time when the only place she wanted to be was right here?

So, Bianca decided to stay.

"And when I look at you, Marissa… I see the woman I have fallen completely in love with."

0 0 0

That was months ago, too.

Like scaling a mountain in tandem, they've learned what pace works for them as a couple. They know the details of their strong friendship; they know what makes the other person laugh and what makes the other person frown in dismay. They've picked up on habits and know when to indulge them; Bianca knows how Marissa likes her coffee (barely black, lots of sugar) and Marissa knows how Bianca likes to sleep in on Sunday mornings (nine is great, ten is pushing it with the girls around).

It is the new things to discover that color this world, though.

Bianca already loved Marissa's carefree grin but, over time, she has noticed how that grin has various levels. From quick and confused to full-blown and charming, from seductively sly to gloriously innocent, Marissa has a smile for every occasion and every emotion. And Bianca isn't sure how the woman ever became a lawyer because Marissa cannot hide a single thing – even when the woman tries her hardest. Marissa's feelings shine through in every movement and in every word the woman speaks. Any surprise that Marissa attempts to carry out is just too easy to uncover – much to Bianca's amusement and Marissa's somewhat comical frustration.

And that's another thing that Bianca has pleasantly learned about Marissa, too.

The woman loves to make these little plans and then step back to watch Bianca's reaction. Breakfast in bed or showing up with lunch while Bianca is at work or flowers sent to Wildwind – all for that unscripted moment upon Bianca's face; all because Marissa doesn't want Bianca to ever forget that what they have with each other is real.

Not that Bianca could ever forget.

Not that Bianca could ever want to forget either.

This is the only thing she wants to remember.

0 0 0

"You know, you're being awfully sweet… Are you trying to get out of that dinner you promised me?"

Bianca twirls one single rose between her thumb and index finger, smirking just a bit as Marissa's expression goes from smiling to faux indignation.

"I don't go back on my word, unlike some people I know." Marissa counters with a smirk of her own and Bianca rolls her eyes in response.
"You are never going to let me live that down, are you?"
"Hey, I'm just sayin' that if you tell a girl you are going to pick her up at seven, then you should be there at seven…"

But Marissa is smiling again and Bianca relishes the sensation that floods her body at the sight – a wonderful mixture of affection and desire and happiness and contentment that Bianca only feels in moments like these. Moments where they tease one another and flirt unabashedly; moments where point A and point B exists solely between the two of them – a direct line from Bianca's heart to Marissa's heart, with no interruptions and no agendas and no doubts.

They've dealt with doubts already. They've dealt with the fears. They've dealt with the reactions of family and friends; with the reactions of strangers when eyes would stare too long at their hands held together. They've dealt with J.R. and they've dealt with A.J. and they've dealt with the ramifications of every action – the ones they have committed and the ones that have affected them from the outside.

And so, when a moment like this one occurs, Bianca gives in to it willingly and joyfully.

"If I recall things correctly, I more than made that up to you."

Bianca says this quietly, halting the twirling of the flower and pushing away from the desk she was leaning against. Marissa's arms are crossed over her chest in a move of feigned defiance on this topic but Bianca can see the way the woman leans forward subtly as Bianca steps closer and closer.

"Yea, well…" Marissa sort of mumbles and Bianca nods her head in mock sympathy.
"Yea, well." Bianca mimics softly as they are merely inches apart and there is a delicate kind of shift to the air around them. Now they are just looking at one another – gazing, even – and Bianca allows the flower to slip from her fingers and to crash silently upon the floor.

Her hands have something much more valuable to hold on to anyway.

0 0 0

Months ago, Marissa couldn't promise to know what she was doing. Then again, Bianca couldn't make that promise either. That's the thing about love, you see, it knows no rhyme or reason. It arrives when it wants to and it leaves when it wants to as well. Promises are nice but they are just words. Vows are pretty but they can fall apart as easily as ashes in the wind. You learn to take these things one day at a time, though. You learn to roll with life instead of trying to predict it; instead of trying to shape it the way you think it must be.

And maybe there are steps backward while trying to move forward but it is where one ends up that matters – and Bianca is standing here, kissing Marissa and Marissa is kissing her back, and all those steps were the right ones after all.

All those steps led them to each other and what could be wrong with that?

0 0 0

END