Ange always feels nervous in places like this. The fancy marble floor makes her footsteps louder, and there seems to be a security guard, with a revolver at his hip, beside every column.

When she was a child, before meeting Charlotte but after being adopted into the street gang, she and several of the other children cased a bank in a moderately nice neighborhood. They spent hours of otherwise free time planning how best to rob the place.

One boy, influenced by one too many American penny dreadfuls, recommended charging in with guns blazing, pistol-whipping the bank manager until he opened the vault, taking the cute schoolmarm hostage to keep the sheriff at bay, then riding their horses into the sunset to celebrate their ill-gotten gains. He became very quiet when it was pointed out they had none of those things. not even the cute schoolmarm.

As amusing as the thought normally is to her, Ange now feels as though every security guard has his eye on her. As though she would indeed draw a six-shooter and demand their money, or their lives.

Daisy doesn't notice. She walks confidently up to the counter, with Ange in tow. They get into a queue, and wait.

Daisy glances at a clock on the wall. "Ten minutes already."
Ange doesn't say anything. Today would normally be payday, so Daisy has closed the café to make the changes that need to be made.

The queue inches forward. Daisy sighs.

"You don't care for waiting," Ange observes. It isn't even so much a question.

"I hate places like this," Daisy mutters.

Ange glances at her in surprise.

"Reminds me just how little money I really have."

"Ah," Ange says with a nod.

Eventually, they reach the window, and face a young man with silver-rimmed spectacles and close-cropped black hair. He doesn't fit either stereotype Ange expects: the old grey-haired man, or the young attractive woman.

"How can I help you?" he asks with forced politeness.

"Want to make some changes to my business account."

"Name?"

"MacBean. Daisy's my name, business is Café MacBean."

The man frowns, and flips through a book on his side of the counter. "Alright. What sort of changes?"

"I want to take on a new partner. Give her access to the business account."

He hums and purses his lips. "I will have to ask you to step to one side."

"Um, why?"

The man frowns, apparently not pleased with being questioned.

"This is something that our manager must handle. Now, if you please?"

"Fine," Daisy grumbles. She stalks away, glaring at the next person in line, a gentleman in a severe business suit with greying hair. He returns the glare without being intimidated.

Daisy sits down in a sofa in a little waiting area at the front of the bank, and Ange sits beside her.

"Should be done already," Daisy mutters.

"Well," Ange says evenly, "we aren't."

"Don't places like this just get under your skin? So much money, armed guards, so many rich ... people."

Ange nods. "Yes, very much so. I hate banks."

"Yeah."

Ange starts to look nervous, now that she's admitted it, and Daisy pats her hand gently.

A man in a dark suit with balding, dark brown hair and a van dyke, walks over towards them. "Miss MacBean?"

She stands up. "Yes."

"I am Johnathan Robertson. I understand you need to make adjustments to your business account?"

"Yes sir."

He nods, and glances at Ange. "And you are a party to this matter as well?"

"Yes sir," she answers, casting a glance at Daisy.

"Well, if you'll follow me?"

He leads them out of the main bank floor, through a door marked "private" and into an office. He sits behind a large, intimidating oak desk.

"Now, as I understand it, you desire to add Miss?"

"Ange le Carré."

"Mademoiselle le Carré .…"

"Um," Ange says, blushing lightly. "Just miss."

He glances at her, with a thin frown. "You are not French?"

"No sir. Nor am I Norman."

He nods. "Ms le Carré, then. You want her added to your account."

Ange clenches her fists and takes a deep breath, but says nothing.

"Yes," Daisy answers, not appearing to notice.

He nods again, and purses his lips.

"You've no credit history to speak of."

"I," Ange begins, but stops when Daisy holds her hand up.

"She's been working for me for four months, nearly five."

"Yes. We have record of a, ahem, modest personal account in Ms le Carré's name, opened some months ago."

"Right, when I started work at the café."

He nods again, and looks at some other papers. "Well," he begins, folding his hands together on his desk, "it is somewhat unusual to take on a new partner after three years' business. Not unheard of, mind. We are prepared to add Ms le Carré to your account, but on very specific terms."

Ange believes that her fingernails are leaving marks in her palm, but she manages not to scowl.

"Terms?" Daisy asks.

"One month's probation, which is to say during that month, she is permitted to deposit money into the business account, and to pay bills either by company check or by wire. She is not permitted to withdraw money, nor to have access to financial details, until after the month period has ended. At least, not without you present, Miss MacBean."

"Which basically means not at all, since if I'm here she has no reason to do those things."

The manager smiles, and spreads his hands. "I do apologize for any inconvenience, but that is, sadly, the best I am able to offer you."

"I accept," Daisy says with a frown.

"Splendid!" the man says, his smile widening. He pushes a piece of paper toward her. "Now, I will need you to sign this paperwork. Ms le Carré is to sign on the line below your signature."

Ange takes a deep breath, slowly unclenches her fists, and nods. "Alright."

Daisy picks up the paper, and looks it over.

"Just standard clauses and conditions," the man says dismissively.

"And fees," Daisy says with a bitter tone.

"Well, naturally. We cannot process such a request without requiring a modest fee."

Daisy sighs, and signs her name, then writes today's date. She hands the paper and fountain pen to Ange, who looks it over as well.

"After one month there is no legal difference between us?"

"That is correct, Ms le Carré."

She is able to refrain from crumpling the paper into a tight ball and tossing it in the manager's face. Instead, she sets it down on the table, signs it, and dates it.

She pushes it back towards him, and he picks it up.

He glances at Ange with a vaguely critical look, then nods with a smile. "We'll have this processed within one business day."

"Thanks," Daisy says with strained patience.

"You are quite welcome. Now, have you any other business to attend to today?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Well then, good morning, ladies."


"Had the man said Ms le Carré one time more, I'd have been fit to slap him," Ange grumbles.

They're walking down the street, away from the bank.

"We got it done though, dear."

"And didn't get laughed at and thrown out," Ange says bitterly. "I suppose that is a victory."

"No, it's the start of the next phase of our relationship."

Ange's bitter scowl softens at this, and she manages a smile. "I suppose you're right."


Very little changes, honestly. Daisy and Ange wake up together each morning, usually waking up before the alarm clock goes off. They cuddle for a few moments, sharing at least one kiss, before taking their showers. Separately. Ange still has limits, a line she feels, perhaps illogically, that she cannot cross without betraying Charlotte.

The General has long-since become used to the sight of both girls leaving the flat in the morning. He nods and says his simple greetings, then heads out.
They take turns locking up the flat, and heading on down the stairs to collect the morning paper. Daisy never really looks at it, though Ange always does. She is hoping for news about Charlotte ... good news that is. Perhaps its because she is a relatively young princess, but information about her is sparse. Ange assumes she's being sheltered by her family.

They split the morning tasks. One focuses on the kitchen, getting tea water heated up, getting the oven lit to bake the frozen dough for bread and pastries. The other works in the café, starting the espresso machine and unlocking the cash register, getting the lights turned on, and preparing to open.

Ange still handles laundry day. To Daisy, nothing looks different between them. Marilla always smiles, and laughs at Ange's jokes, and they spend just a moment longer than they ought making plans for their next outing.

Daisy busies herself in the kitchen at those times. Shes kneading bread dough today, while a batch of bread cools, and a tray of eclairs bakes.

She shouldn't be jealous. She tells herself this many times. Before she and Ange started their relationship, she had multiple men at her beck and call. Boyfriend of the Week, Ange had once called them. Out of jealousy, Daisy muses. That-s changed now. Daisy, for the first time ever, has agreed to make a commitment.

Even if Ange cannot, to the same level.

And it isn't about Marilla. They're friends. They don't spend as much time together as they used to. A Sunday or two. A few evenings during the week. And, Ange always comes home. Late in the evening sometimes, but always comes home. She shouldn't be jealous of Marilla. Not really. And yet, here she is, working the bread dough harder than is necessary to keep from thinking about ...

The kitchen door opens, and Ange walks in. She leans against Daisy-s back, wrapping her arms around her waist, and leaning up on tiptoes to give her cheek a quick kiss.

Daisy forces a smile to her face, and glances back. "Hey there."

"Mm. The laundry is away."

"Good. Hows your other girlfriend doing, anyway?"

Ange frowns, and playfully swats Daisy's shoulder. "She is not, and has never been, my girlfriend."

Daisy laughs. "Uh huh."

"As it happens, Marilla is doing quite well."

"Oh, found someone has she?"

Ange shakes her head. "No, nor is she looking. Remember what I told you?"

"Sure, not ready for a relationship, wanting to save up money first, blah blah."

Ange's frown deepens. "Yes, and it is quite true."

"Well," Daisy says, turning around to face Ange. "Guess that worked out well for me then."

They kiss, and Ange's smile returns. "Us, my love. It worked well for us."


Several days pass. One advantage of being co owner of the café is that Ange can tell Daisy she has to be absent part of the day. She doesn't feel the pressure of working hard to keep her boss happy, and to keep earning a paycheck.

Its almost a month before St Valentines day, and Ange has taken a rather large amount of money out of her personal bank account. She doesn't have to save it against renting her own place any more, so she feels safe in spending it on a nice surprise for her girlfriend.

The thought sends a shiver down her spine. Its been nearly three weeks since they started their relationship, and its been wonderful. She has got over any lingering doubts she had at first, and though Charlotte remains in her thoughts, she no longer feels guilt. She is in love with Daisy. Shes decided this is true, and that it doesn't mean her love for Charlotte is in any way diminished. Changed? Perhaps. She wont know until, or unless, she meets her again.

Ange enters a shop she knows by reputation, after a trolley ride into a different part of town. This isn't a place she normally goes, and if Daisy shops here she hasn't mentioned it.

A young woman smiles as she enters. "Good morning ma'am. May I help you find something in particular?"

"Well," she says with a confident smile, "it so happens that I am looking for a gift for Valentines Day."

The woman's smile widens. "I see. Well, I'm gratified you've come to our shop. Does your sweetheart have a favorite color, or perhaps pattern that you'd like your gift in?"

"Purple and green are colors they are fond of," Ange muses.

The shopkeeper nods. "We have both colors available, though not commonly together. It may cost extra."

"That is fine," Ange says with a nod.

The woman smiles. "Well, then kindly have a look at our samples and catalogs. Once you've decided on what you'd like, I can take your measurements."

Ange nods. her cheeks turn pink at the thought. She takes a deep breath. Somehow that makes this feel just a little more real, and maybe just a bit sordid.


Ange returns to the café just before the lunch rush. She hurries up to the flat to find a place to hide her receipt and information from the shop. She wants it to be a surprise, after all.

Once she's hidden it in a place Daisy is certain not to look, she hurries down to the café's back room, ties on an apron, and heads out to the café just as a group of three workmen enter.

She pats Daisy's shoulder, unable to hide a blush when the older girl smiles at her, and then heads out to the table where the men have sat, as four more customers, in two groups of two, enter the café.

It isn't any busier than usual, and as the rush passes Daisy retires to the kitchen with a tub full of dishes. Ange minds the counter.

The bell above the door rings, and Ange looks up, prepared to offer her usual greeting. It dies in her throat when she sees Marilla, Rita, Mary Jane, and the twins enter. Their shoulders are slumped, their pace slow. Rita and Mary Jane have red, puffy eyes, and the twins are sobbing, tears running down their cheeks.

"What happened?" Ange asks in a shocked tone.

"Um," Marilla begins. She sounds as bad as the others look.

Daisy comes out into the café, a look of concern on her face. "Talk to us."

The twins stay near the door, clutching tightly to each other. Rita and Mary Jane look at Marilla uncertainly. She walks over to the counter. "Well. Um. The laundry mill."

"What happened?" Ange repeats, in a firmer tone.

"It got closed down."

Ange can't suppress a gasp of surprise, and Daisy sits down heavily in a stool beside Ange.

A fresh heartbreaking sob comes from one of the twins, and Rita and Mary Jane both look on the verge of fresh tears as well.

"I don't," Ange stammers. "I mean, how? Why?"

"Apparently," Marilla said, anger and frustration obvious in her voice, "our dear beloved overseer was behind on his loan payments."

Ange glances at Daisy, who looks down at her hands.

"And," Marilla continues, "the bastard that held those loans got judgment against him. Unable to make a payment or sufficient arrangement, the mill was summarily taken over. The," Marilla glances at the twins, taking in a very deep breath, "man that took over, he strutted out like the cock of the walk, and informed us all our jobs were ended. No notice, no compensation, no nothing."

"That's terrible," Ange whispers.

"Well, he offered some of the, ahem, cuter girls the chance to work for him. In what capacity, I shudder to imagine."

"Sounds familiar," Ange whispers, darkly.

"Yeah," Daisy says. "Look, you girls go ahead and take a seat. Stay as long as you like, alright? I mean ... you want anything?"

"We couldn't possibly," Marilla says. "I mean, we didn't know what else to do. We just ended up here. Can't quite see our way to buy anything under the circumstances."

"On the house," Daisy says. "Drinks, food, whatever. Least I can do."

Rita and Mary Jane do begin crying now, and the twins sniffle.

"Thank you," they both whimper more or less together.

"Yeah," Daisy says.

"We'll all take black tea," Marilla says.

The other four girls nod between their sobs.

"We'll have it right out," Ange says in the tenderest voice she can manage. "Don't forget our pastries. Sweets really do help after all,"

She then follows Daisy into the kitchen "We have to help them."

"Help? How d'you propose we do that, darling?"

Ange frowns, and begins the process of brewing tea. "Hire them," she finally says.

"Hire? Ange, my love, you mean to say hire all of them? Just all at once."

Ange frowns heavily. "We can do it."

"No, we cannot. First, I don't think the twins are old enough. Hell, I don't think they were old enough to legally work at the laundry mill either, but that's unimportant now."

Ange sighs. "I suppose you¨re right."

"I don't know Rita that well."

"I confess, I don't know her as well as I do Marilla."

"I don't think she can handle customers, to be honest. Look at how fragile she is."

"I think she's stronger than she looks."

"And Mary Jane? I ought just as well gather up all our food and pitch it in the rubbish bin and save the trouble."

Ange can't quite help but smile, bitter as the moment is. "I suppose it would be a mistake giving her access to the kitchen."

"So that leaves Marilla."

"She's old enough. Strong enough. Smart enough."

"And she's your second girlfriend."

"Daisy, please. Now is not the time, even in jest."

"Sorry. Still ... I can see her working here."

"As can I."

Daisy sighs. "Fine. I'll talk to her."

"Thank you."

They go back out, Ange carrying the tray with the five teacups. "Have you decided what you'd like?" she asks as she sets them down at the table Marilla and the others are at.

"Red velvet cake," Marilla says quietly. "Five slices. Make it easy on you."

"We're here to make it easy on you," Ange replies evenly.

The girls sip their tea, stirring in milk and sugar to taste, and Ange goes to the display case to get their cakes.

"Marilla," Daisy says, "mind if I have a word?"

The five former laundresses share looks, and Marilla nods slowly. "alright,"

Marilla stands, and follows Daisy around the counter and into the back room, while Ange places the slices of cake down for everyone.

"Is there a problem?" Rita asks, voice soft and uncertain.

"No," Ange says with a thin smile. "not at all."

She moves behind the counter, sitting and watching as the girls drink and eat. Slowly, and without their usual joy.

"So, what are we going to do?" one twin whimpers.

"My mum will be beside herself," Rita says quietly.

"You're really smart though," the other twin says. "You can even read! I think you can find a job in an office, maybe even using a type-writer."

"I suppose I'll try go go back to school," Mary Jane says, without enthusiasm.

"I'm scared of what papa is going to do," one twin whispers.

The other winces, and looks down at her cake. "He needs the money."

"We will think of something," Rita says quietly. "We will make it together, just as we have at the mill."

Mary Jane and the twins nod slowly, and fall silent. They continue to eat, as joyless as before.

After a moment, Daisy and Marilla come back out of the back room. Both are smiling.

"Thank you," Marilla says to Ange, patting her shoulder.

Ange smiles in response.

Rita and Mary Jane share a look, and the twins both look deeply confused.

Marilla walks around the counter, and over to the table.

Daisy leans in and gives Ange's cheek a quick, tender kiss. "You can guess what happened?"

"Girls," Marilla announces before Ange can respond. "As of tomorrow morning, I shall be working here, at Café MacBean."

The others look very surprised at this.

"Um," one twin says, "Um, you will?"

"Yes. And, Daisy has offered me an advance on my pay, which should be sufficient to help you out."

"Help us?" Rita asks, truly confused.

"Listen," Daisy says, "this is a hand that I'm offering you, alright? It isn't much, basically a full two weeks salary to split between you, but it should help. I mean, til all of you find something."

The twins sniffle. "Um. Thank you."

Rita and Mary Jane echo the sentiment.

Marilla sits and digs into her cake.


Their routine is disrupted. That morning, when Ange goes to get the newspaper, she finds Marilla standing just outside the front door.

"Come on in," she says with a smile.

"Oh. Okay. Um, boss?"

Ange shakes her head, still smiling. "you don't have to treat me any different."

Marilla walks in the door. The corridor is somewhat narrow. Just inside the door are the mail boxes for their flat and the General's, and a separate box for the café. On the opposite wall is the door leading into the cafés back room. The rest of the corridor is taken up by the stairs that lead up to the flats.

"This door isn't locked. You needn't wait outside."

Daisy comes down the stairs. "Heya Marilla."

"Good morning, Daisy."

"Now, you can call me boss all you want," Daisy says playfully

"Alright, boss. Where do we begin?"

"Get her suited up with an apron," Daisy says to Ange, who nods and unlocks the door to the café. "You'll be doing menial tasks for a bit, sorry to say."

"I can do menial," Marilla says, still wearing a thin smile.

"Good to hear," Daisy says.

Ange has the door open, and has turned on the light. As Daisy unlocks the delivery door, Ange unceremoniously tosses an apron at Marilla. "Watch what we do. I mean, moreso than usual."

"Right," Marilla nods. She follows Ange out to the café, and dutifully observes Ange as she goes around turning up the lights, and checking the tables to make sure they're clean. When Ange comes back to the counter to start up the espresso machine, Marilla is smiling, sitting on a stool.

"I do feel like I can run that thing."

Ange begins the process of making two cups. "Hm. Well, you've been here often enough, I suppose."

"But?"

Ange smiles, and hands her a steaming hot mug. "But, hands off until Daisy says you're ready. That's how it was for me."

Marilla nods. "Got it."

Just then Daisy peeks out through the door to the back room. "Marilla, front and center."

She stands, and gives a mock salute with her free hand. "Yes ma'am."

"Come back to the kitchen with me. Gonna show you how things work there. Ange, open up whenever you're ready out here."

"Got it."

Marilla glances back at her with a grin, then disappears to the back with Daisy.

Ange drinks her mug of coffee, then cleans out the espresso machine. Everything is ready out here, so she pulls up the shutter, unlocks the door, and smiles as the familiar old couple shuffle in.

"Good morning," she says with a smile.

And with that, the café settles into a familiar routine.


As the last customers of the evening leave, Daisy closes and locks up. "Nice work today," she says with a smile.

Marilla is busy wiping down tables. "Thanks, boss."

"You have any plans tonight?" Daisy asks.

Marilla looks genuinely surprised, and casts a glance back to Ange. The blonde, wiping down the counter, shrugs.

"No," Marilla replies slowly.

"Well, come on up to the flat with us."

Marilla doesn't reply at first, resuming her task of cleaning the table.

Ange and Daisy share a look, and a thin smile crosses Ange's lips.

"Please?" she says. "Since you're our employee now, it'd be nice if you joined us. For tonight at least."

Marilla looks back up at Ange. "Oh. Well, I suppose I can't say no."

"You can," Daisy says. She's gone to another table to start wiping it down as well. "And it isn't gonna be every night."

"I imagine not. Alright, I'll come up."

They finish, and go up to the flat. Daisy takes out three clean glasses and sets them on the table. "Find us something nice to drink, dear."

Ange smiles. "Of course, darling."

While Ange is looking through the liquor cabinet, Daisy sits on the sofa and motions for Marilla to sit as well.

"So, what d'you think? Easier or harder than doing laundry?"

Marilla purses her lips and thinks. "Not sure yet. Harder by far today, but that's just because, well, never done this kind of thing before."

Ange has selected an especially nice bottle of Scotch, and pours even amounts into each glass. "I understand what you mean. I used to wait tables part-time, but even that didn't fully prepare me for what this café is like."

Marilla and Daisy scoot aside to give Ange enough room to squeeze in between them.

Daisy picks up her glass, and raises it. Ange and Marilla pick theirs up as well.

"To us," Daisy says, "Ange le Carré and her harem!"

Ange's cheeks redden, and she frowns. "Pardon?"

Marilla, grinning, playfully elbows Ange's side, and taps Daisy's glass. "Cheers!"

"Bottoms up," Daisy says with a glance at Ange, before she sips her drink. Marilla sips it as well.

Ange sighs. "I believe it would be more appropriate to say, 'to the success of our affairs.' "

Marilla giggles at this, making Ange's blush deepen.

"I mean ..."

"Our business endeavors," Daisy says with clear amusement.

"That," Ange nods, and drains half her Scotch.

"Cheers," Marilla says to this, and drinks.

"Anyway," Daisy says once she has drained her drink, "I just wanted you to feel ... well, at home here. I know things haven't gone too well for you lately."

Marilla finishes her drink, and Ange dutifully refills all three glasses.

"Well," Marilla says, "it hasn't been exactly as I'd hoped. Losing one's job so soon into the new year ... well, any time. I was afraid, truly afraid, that I'd not be able to find anything."

"I'm quite sure that's not true," Ange says.

"No, it is. I've only ever been a laundress. Our chief rival might've hired me, but I don't know if I'd feel right groveling to them."
Daisy winces. "Guess we'll have to change our business to them, though."

Marilla frowns. "I'd almost rather do your laundry myself, then have you do business with them."

"Are they that bad?" Ange asks.

Marilla shakes her head slowly. "Not really. Business-wise, they've been a thorn in our laundry mill since ... forever. See, their owner actually has some economic sense, and doesn't take out loans from a parasitical skunk."

"What an apt description," Ange says with a grin.

"It really is," Daisy nods in agreement.

"So really, I guess my old place was the problematic laundry mill. Anyway, I'm still glad I didn't have to go to them for a position."

"Well, I am happy you're here."

Daisy grins. "Of course you're happy she's here. That puts both your girlfriends in easy reach."

Ange and Marilla both turn frowns on Daisy.

"We are not girlfriends," Ange says with a sigh.

"I mean," Marilla says, "she's cute enough."

"She is very cute," Daisy agrees, making Marilla smile.

Ange shifts uncomfortably in her seat, her cheeks turning pink.

"Ange," Daisy continues, "is especially cute when drunk."

Marilla grins widely, while Ange's face now burns red-hot.

"She is, she is!"

"Marilla!" Ange says, in a shocked tone with wide eyes.

Daisy giggles.

"Alright," Ange says turning a frown on her girlfriend "How am I a cute drunk?"

"Simple, love. When you get drunk, like really drunk? You put a great deal of effort into making it seem that you are not."

Ange blinks, her head tilting in confusion.

"It's true," Marilla grins.

Ange turns to Marilla. "Explain?"

"Sure," Marilla nods. "You start to walk in a very slow, deliberate way."

"You over-pronounce your words."

"What?" Ange turns back to Daisy.

"Like, you're desperate not to slur them together, or slip into full-out Cockney."

"I would never!"

"You have," Marilla smirks.

Ange turns to her with a look of shock.

"Happened once," Marilla says. "We'd had a few more ales than usual, and were sitting side by side on the sofa."

"Is this a story that'll make me jealous?" Daisy asks teasingly.

"Of course, but all my cute Ange stories will make you jealous," Marilla replies, grinning widely.

Ange just shakes her head slowly.

"Anyway, for whatever reason, you didn't have your guard up, and there you are, in full East End mode."

"I cannot believe it."

"You were many, many sheets to the wind, so no surprise."

Ange covers her face in her hands.

"Like the first night we kissed, remember that?"

Ange keeps her hands over her face, and does not answer Daisy.

"She staggered to my door, and just stood there. She wanted to go to bed, had the idea that it was fine to sleep in mine, because wed kissed or something, but hadn't permission to go in."

"So she stood there waiting for you to let her in?"

"Yeah."

Marilla laughs, and puts an arm around Ange's shoulders. This earns her a glare from Ange, through spread fingers.

"We love you Ange, or we wouldn't tease you," Daisy says.

The glare is turned on Daisy, who laughs too.

"I cannot believe that I am betrayed in this manner," Ange whinges.