Diana who demanded nothing, except everything, of Caroline.

"Are you staying in Cambridge tonight?"

Yes. "No."

Before Kate was on, Caroline was very on. Very on Diana.

Arrhythmic staccato heartbeat. Blood pooled at her core leaving extremities cool. Sitting in her car pulled off the road ten minutes out of Cambridge, mind altered by the most powerful substances not on the periodic table. Lust and anger. Sketching the circular shape of the grey leather-wrapped steering wheel.

"Hello – Diana? Yes. It's Caroline. I've changed my plans. Staying in town tonight. Still care for that drink? I can fill you in on the finer points of my lecture." Flirting. Where had that come from? When had flirting with women resurfaced in Caroline's consciousness?

John's cheating would not make Caroline's right. And that was what Caroline intended by the fifth flip of the navy card across white knuckles. As the footlights shone up on Dr. Diana, Caroline traveled backward and heard, saw, felt again in Diana what could not possibly be. If the arrow of time flew true.

Crisp accent pitched fast, smoothed by association with the right people and the right places. Though if you paid close attention – and Caroline paid close attention – a lowly hard 'r' would sneak its way in during Socratic session. But no matter. It's on you to keep up with the content.

A flare of the nostrils, Caroline filled with the essence of ancient dust layered on polished panels shed by scholars for hundreds of years before she dared defile academia.

From the podium, the fountainhead, intellect reflected in posture. The woman before sweet young Caroline careful guardian, sphinx of demeanor, meter, keeper of all the secrets you ever wanted to steal.

Surely her senses betrayed her today, so many years later. She must be dreaming. It could not be 1990.

Caroline had craved this combination before. She had not only craved but consumed before, been delivered by a doctor not dissimilar to the woman in black and pinstripe. May to September – almost. One graduate advisor, one willing pupil, one summer of Caroline wearing long ponytails and another woman's shirttails.

Tonight might taste of the last century as well. Tonight time would melt, malleable, within her hot hands and blazing tongue. Caroline would be born again. How could she deny it? Should an immortal Flamel himself appear in a puff of smoke and sulphur she would be more likely to turn away his alchemy than turn away Diana Poole.

Reality would diverge. Caroline would slip into the space between. She would thread the needle, dive into the silken pocket, and resurface. And did women count as cheating? Would this? Judith counted as cheating, Judith was a woman. Is a woman. No matter. Her course was set.

The past writes the present and the die of Diana is cast.

"Of course I'm free, Caroline. I kept my night open. I had a feeling you'd come around."

A quiet bar. Two women at ease. Well – one woman pretending at ease. In reality Caroline is floating high above it all, insane observer of her insanity. Two women flirting. There is no doubt. Diana is wholly engaged, engaging. Mind and body and she does not hide it. The double collar shirt that was buttoned to the hollow of the neck this afternoon isn't anymore. Just visible at just the right angle - the lace on the – bra? Camisole? Wouldn't Caroline like to find out? This is Diana's suggestion.

"What made you change your plans, stay over tonight?"

Thirst. Dreams. Denial of her long-suffering denial.

"I enjoyed your talk – and your paper about girls in the hard sciences. Apparently you don't read much, but if you caught my bio you caught I'm head teacher as well. School up in Harrogate. And I'm keen on your work. Love to pick your brain, what you're doing to keep them interested."

New strategy. Caroline gave everything to John and it changed everything. Caroline's thirst was quenched but now she is drowned in salty tears and salt water is corrosive. Time for a fling, time for a lark. Caroline had lead with her heart. This time, Caroline will lead with – everything else.

"I did read your bio. STEM is personal for you." Diana refills Caroline's wine glass. "And this drink is personal. We can talk chemistry all you want. Or not. But if you want my professional opinions, that's on your dime."

Personal, professional, what does that matter? Caroline thrives on multi-tasking. She is talking, she is drinking, she is absorbing all things Diana. Ashy charcoal eyes, lustrous layered black hair just to the shoulders. Thick and asking Caroline to take a handful. Taller than Caroline, not thinner. Larger. Larger than life.

Caroline is no longer twenty-something, a fact she forgets and remembers within the space between seconds. She will not be intimidated. She practices ease. "Tell me about the program you've put together to keep your younger girls from dropping off track. We always lose them right around ten or twelve, and I can't stand it. I try to talk them back into it. I've had them into my office, I've talked to the parents. Nothing works. It's insufferable."

Burgundy wine to burgundy lips. "It takes commitment to keep them." Diana sips and Caroline finds herself very thirsty. "I don't want to mix business and pleasure. I prefer to dive deep in one subject. And right now I'm not thinking about science and school girls."

Caroline remembers this formula. Dredged from dusty notebooks of long ago, sharpened pencil and blue-lined graph paper and her own shorthand. Knows what inputs speed and slow reactions. And she intends a slow reaction. She will savor. She will. "Even the good ones. Pulling top marks and they just turn their backs and pick up a paint brush."

"Or a pen." A smile now, matching strides, and the pace is even.

Caroline checks her slim silver watch. They've finished their wine. The sun has gone down, and the moon has come up.

"You have somewhere else to be?"

"Yep."

"I'm ravenous." This is true. Caroline was ravenous hours ago, is still. The first incarnation of hunger solved by her mouth, and conveniently, the second would be as well.

"I need a cigarette. Two. You've been saving up." Diana in the champagne moonlight. Solitary tattoo on silhouette. Stag at the shoulder blades.

"It's late. Takeaway?" Caroline has regressed. Not years. Decades. Nubile and tastes toward the impoverished to reflect it.

"God no. I know a place. Greek, and I'll order for us. Their English is shit." Diana plays the elder.

Dinner. Discussion. More than Caroline anticipated? If she gave nothing, Diana could take nothing?

As it turned out she needn't have worried.

"I don't want to hear about your broken marriage and your man, Caroline. Tell me if the universe will expand indefinitely."

"I can't imagine anything lonelier. Everything rushing away from us – the farther the faster. At every moment connection further from our grasp."

"That's not an answer, it's a wish. Your science has gone soft. But you prefer the alternative? Racing toward each other until we're stifled? Coalesced and dancing on the head of a pin."

"Undeniable gravitational pull binding every atom and all that exists? Each of our existences driving the birth of the next singularity? What could be more infinite, meaningful, and perfect?"

"Then over breakfast we'll discuss dark matter. I won't at night."

Dinner with Diana, souvlaki and spanakopita, and it seemed Caroline knew less about her than ever. She knew more about herself and her world and her thirst changed flavors. She knew that Diana would have her again, but would leave at the threshold whatever accompanied Caroline Elliott. Would take everything Caroline Dawson.

Two heads of school, Sheffield and Harrogate. Two scientists. Two middle aged women with time on their hands and space to explore multiple possibilities.

So began Caroline and Diana.