Alison opened one eye and saw the motel room was empty. She heard movement coming from the bathroom, though, so she knew Jane was still present. She slipped out of bed wearing nothing but a smirk as she got dressed and prepared to leave a nasty little present for the bitch. Jane had hurt her all those years ago at that art camp, and Alison had taken the chance meeting as an opportunity to score a little revenge, and...well, score. Little Miss "I'm not gay" had certainly seemed game, and had given just as much as Alison had in the bed - and Alison herself was a wildcat, so that meant a lot. She looked back on the bedsheets, stained with both their blood from the various bites and scratches, and her body tingled with pleasure at the memory. Now, though, came the 'revenge' part of her plan.

She withdrew a tube of lipstick from her pocket and scooched up on the dresser, where the shitty motel TV sat, and proceeded to begin writing in huge, un-missable letters on the wall. She went quickly, not knowing how long until Jane finished up, and got back down from the dresser to admire her handiwork for a moment before departing.

It was that last bit that got Alison caught, as Jane took that moment to quietly sneak out of the bathroom, only to stop mid-sneak as Alison heard her and turned around, her jaw dropping open in shock, just as much as Jane's was.

For Alison, looking behind Jane, saw that the younger artist had been equally busy in the bathroom. Scrawled on the mirror, in Jane's own shade of lipstick, was the slogan "WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF AIDS!" Alison turned to look at her own rendition of that same slogan on the wall ("WELCOME TO THE WORLD OF AIDS!") as Jane did to hers. Slowly, they turned back to each other and stared for a long moment.

Alison was the first to crack. Her lips quivered from a stoic line to cracking open and allowing the laughter inside to burst forth. Jane followed suit, and they soon found one another again, their lips meeting much more sincerely, much more tenderly, than they had the previous night.

"I don't actually have AIDS," Jane confessed.

"Neither do I," Alison added.

"Bitch," they said simultaneously. They began laughing once again.

They were married six months later.

XXXXXXXXXX

Inspired by one of those old urban legends where a careless dalliance leads to a person finding out the next day that their partner was a latter-day Typhoid Mary, and my own lunatic mind thinking, "What if Typhoid Mary fell in love with Typhoid Murray?"