"Hey, Paige." Hanna's voice held a subtle hint of how excited she was to see her girlfriend. She linked their arms as they walked up to the barista and placed their orders. They held hands as well as coffees as they walked to their booth. Hanna held on to Paige's hand after they sat, scrutinizing it with both her eyes and her fingers.

"You should let me paint your nails!" she declared, excited.

"Oh yeah," Paige chuckled. "That's what I should do."

"I'm serious," Hanna insisted, stroking the pad of her index finger against each of Paige's fingernails in turn.

"Hanna, I'm not a paint-your-nails kind of girl. I'm more a bite-your-nails kind of girl."

Hanna rolled her eyes. "God – all those times I envied Emily for dating a girl," she lamented. "If only I'd known..."

"So, you thought dating a girl meant having a little Barbie doll to play with and dress up?"

"Uh, no, Paige... that's what having a daughter means!" Hanna's tone told Paige that she was only kidding, but Paige rolled her eyes at the comment anyway.

Hanna stroked the back of Paige's hand. "I just thought that all girls like to have their nails done, like to go shopping, like to… I don't know – do girl things!" She smiled shyly.

"I love doing girl things - like, playing field hockey, and doing better than the guys at math. And..." Paige leaned in and gave Hanna a peck on the lips. "...you. You're definitely the girliest thing I ever do."

Hanna stroked Paige's cheek affectionately. "Okay, I get it, those are all girl-things, and I'm glad that you love doing them. Especially me. But, come on - what girl doesn't like having nice nails?"

Paige sighed. "Well, you know, it's not really practical for me to get my nails done."

"Duh!" Hanna lifted her hands at the obviousness of Paige's statement. "Lesbians have short nails, I get it! That doesn't mean those nails can't look pretty!"

"No, I'm not even talking about short nails. What I mean is, with field hockey, my nails take so much abuse, there's no sense spending a lot of time trying to make them look pretty."

"Okay, well, first of all, I know that it's not field hockey season, and, second, Spencer plays field hockey, and I know that she gets her nails done."

"Yeah, well." Paige scoffed slightly and shook her head rather than continue. Hanna gave her a look, prompting her to finish the thought. "Spencer is… You know. She's a bit…" Paige tilted her head back, trying to come up with a diplomatic way of saying it. "... dainty. I mean," she blurted out quickly, "she's a hell of a field hockey player, don't get me wrong. But she plays it like a rich girl, you know? Not like an 'jock.'"

Hanna wasn't really listening to Paige's assessment. She was doing an assessment of her own, examining Paige's nails and coming up with a mental plan for them. She shared the plan with Paige, but Paige was unconvinced. "I really need the practice," Hanna pleaded.

"Practice?" Hanna nodded. "Since when do you want to be a manicurist? I thought you wanted to be a fashion designer."

"Paige." Hanna's voice was condescending. "Being a designer means more than just slapping outfits on models and shoving them down the runway. You have to be able to deal with real people, with real egos and real insecurities. You have to make them feel pretty, if you expect them to make your clothes look pretty. And you have to learn how to be very persuasive."

Paige took a moment to appreciate her girlfriend, amazed at how much Hanna knew about her chosen profession, and how well-suited she was for it. "Well, you're persuasive," she concluded. "I'll give you that!"

"Damn right I am! How do you think I got Caleb to let me practice on his nails?"

"Oh, no you did not!" Paige huffed skeptically.

"Yes, I did!" Hanna insisted. "But guys are easy," she said, her voice suddenly deeper. She placed her hand on Paige's cheek and leaned in so that Paige could feel the brush of her breath against her skin. "You just have to touch their cheek a certain way and give them a long, soulful look, and tell them how much nicer they'd look with their nails properly trimmed, and give them a soft kiss" – Hanna kissed Paige's lips – "and say" - her voice became soft and pleading - "'It's just a clear coat… no one will ever know… and you would really be helping me out.'" Hanna was biting her lip, flashing puppy-dog eyes at Paige.

Paige dipped her head. "Okay," she husked weakly.

"Really?" Hanna's voice was suddenly high-pitched, and her entire face was smiling.

"Yes, really. Yes, please."

Hanna put her hands on either side of Paige's head and pulled her in for a kiss. "Paigey!" Seeing that her girlfriend wasn't as enthusiastic as she was, Hanna, her hands still cradling Paige's face, stroked her thumb up and down Paige's ear. "You can say no, if you want," she said soothingly.

"Hanna, if there's anything we've learned from this relationship, it's that I can't say no to you!"

"Yay!" Hanna croaked triumphantly, tapping her palm against Paige's cheeks before retrieving an emery board from her purse.

"What, right now?" Paige exclaimed, surprised. "Right here?"

Hanna shrugged her shoulders, not getting what the big deal was.

"That's so..." - Paige's voice shifted to a whisper - "unsanitary!"

Hanna saw the way Paige looked around at the other tables when she said it, and realized that the real reason for Paige's hesitation was that she didn't want to do it in front of everybody there at The Brew. "Fine," she conceded. "We can do it when we get back to your place. Put that ginormous bed of yours to good use!"

"Oh, I think we get pretty good use out of that 'ginormous' bed of mine..."

"Not when Warden Nick is there," Hanna scoffed. She put a hand to the side of her mouth like a megaphone and barked, "Door!"

"Yeah," Paige chuckled sympathetically. "Actually, my Dad will probably be excited that you're painting my nails. He'll probably think it makes me more girly."

"Or that it's some kind of lesbian foreplay..."

"Wait, you mean it's not?" Paige widened her eyes and clutched her chest in mock surprise. "So, why am I letting you do my nails, then?"

"Because you love me so much," Hanna said, leaning in for a kiss.

Paige sighed contentedly. "Yeah, I do," she said with a wistful smile.

Hanna took Paige's hand, palm-up, and gently stroked her thumb across the fingertips. Gazing intensely into Paige's eyes, her voice low and seductive, she added, "And because you know that it really is foreplay."

"Paige?" Hanna began, as she applied another layer towards the ombré effect she was doing on Paige's nails. It wasn't Paige's thing, and Paige knew that she'd have some explaining to do in the locker room, but it was relatively tasteful and understated, for Hanna, at least. It could've been a whole lot worse, Paige thought. Hanna could've pulled out the glitter or gone for some splashy or psychedelic effect. But Paige trusted her. After all, as Hanna had said, in her chosen field, she had to be good at making people feel at ease. That's what Hanna had done since the beginning of their time together;- gently eased Paige out of her shell.

"Yeah?" Paige replied, without looking up.

"Do you remember when I asked you how you'd feel if your daughter dated a boy?"

"Yeah. What was that all about?"

Hanna sighed, not taking her eyes off of the nail that she was working on, with quick but precise strokes. "It's my Mom."

Paige paused, waiting for Hanna to elaborate, but Hanna kept silent. "Your mom?"

"Mm hmm." Hanna stopped what she was doing and dipped the brush repeatedly into its jar, obviously unsettled. "I mean, I know that she loves me. And, she loves you, too, Paige, I swear. Like, back since when you and Emily were together."

"I know," Paige assured her.

Hanna breathed deeply, capping the polish and setting it off to the side, although she wasn't finished with Paige's nails. "And it's not as if she's homophobic. I know that for a fact," she said, looking Paige in the eye. "But it's just... I don't know. I guess it's fine for everyone else, but that's not what she expected from me."

"Huh." Paige was reluctant to jump in, not wanting to get in the middle of a family issue.

Hanna uncapped the polish and went back to work on Paige's nails again. Neither of them said anything for a minute or so.

"I guess it's just that she always saw a certain life for me, you know? I would grow up to be the prettiest princess, marry the handsome prince, raise the perfect family: a dashing dark-haired boy and a beautiful blonde girl." Hanna chuckled weakly.

"She's... trying to live her dreams through you?"

"Maybe," Hanna said sadly with a shrug. "You know, it's an awful lot of pressure, when you're a kid. I knew that my Mom loved me, of course, but she always gave me these subtle digs about how thin I should be, or how perfect my clothes should be, or how blonde my hair should be." Paige used her free hand to stroke Hanna's cheek. She, too, knew about parental pressure, and parents trying to live their dreams through her. "I think that's one of the reasons that I got so interested in fashion."

"You wanted to live in that world?"

"No." Hanna smiled. "I wanted to create a safe place for girls and women who felt the same kind of pressure that I did to be perfect. I wanted them to have a place where they realized that what they were was enough. That they were thin enough, strong enough, smart enough, beautiful enough, confident enough."

Paige kissed Hanna's temple. "That's a beautiful dream."

Hanna smiled at Paige, enjoying the moment in silence for a bit before she continued. "My Mom hasn't said anything," she said, her eyes focused like a laser on the nail she was polishing, "but I think she still thinks that I'm going to 'come to my senses.' You know, go off to fashion school, meet the right guy, remember what I've been missing..." Hanna turned her head towards Paige and smiled weakly.

"Well," Paige said, drawing out the word, "we haven't really ever talked about that, have we? I mean, I'm still planning to go to Stanford next year. And I know you're heading to New York."

"So?" Hanna capped the bottle of polish again and stroked her hand underneath Paige's hair, letting it rest on her ear. "Four thousand miles isn't that far. Not when we've got phones and e-mail and Skype. And four years isn't very long. It's not as if I'll never see you during those times." Paige bit her lip, surprised not so much that Emily had shared that conversation on the dock with Hanna, but that Hanna recalled it. "Doesn't Stanford have any swim meets on the East Coast?"

"Not really," Paige said sadly. "Not unless the NCAA finals are out here."

"Well, you're coming home for Christmas and the summers, right?"

"Absolutely," Paige said eagerly. "I mean, I'll be training over the summers, but I'll have at least a couple of weeks at home."

"And I'm sure I'll get out to Cali. LA's big in the fashion world."

Paige frowned. "Wrong half of the state."

"Well, LA's closer than New York!"

"True." Paige nodded. "I could definitely make it down to LA."

"And there's a fashion scene in San Fran, too."

"Yeah, I guess."

Hanna noticed that Paige wasn't making eye contact. "Unless that's not what you want?"

"No, I... Hanna..."

"Paige," Hanna said firmly. "You need to be honest with me."

"Okay, honestly?" Paige sighed. "I guess... I was trying to give you an out." Hanna scrunched her forehead. "I guess I'm just used to..."

As Paige considered her word-choice, Hanna interrupted. "You know, I love Emily, Paige. You know I do." Hanna inhaled deeply. "But sometimes, I really hate what she did to you."

Paige dipped her head. "You can't blame Emily for that."

"Maybe not." That wasn't the point that Hanna felt like arguing. "But, Paige, I need you to be honest with me. I see us together in the future, no matter what happens in the next four years. If that's not what you see, I can accept that, and we can be happy for what we've got now and make the most out of the rest of the time we have together. But I need you..."

Paige put her hands on Hanna's cheeks and interrupted her with a long, determined kiss, being careful not to smudge her polish on Hanna's hair and ruin all of Hanna's hard work. "Yes," she rasped in a low, reassuring voice. "I see that, too. I want that, too. I love you, Hanna."

Hanna smiled. "I love you, too." Paige kissed her again. Hanna let out a relieved, contented breath as their foreheads met. "I see you and Emily as friends together, too," she said, softly and hopefully. "Not now," she added quickly. "Not even soon, maybe. But someday?"

Paige tilted her forehead away from Hanna and rotated her neck in a circle, as if stretching after a workout. She didn't say anything, but the look on her face said everything.

"I get it, Paige," Hanna said, nodding her head slightly. "Honestly, I do. It's just..." Hanna put her hands on Paige's shoulders and rubbed them down to her elbows. "She misses you. And, to be honest, I miss the two of you, too."

Paige's face tightened up. "Too soon," she said, in a deep, angry rumble.

Hanna put her hand behind Paige's neck and pulled her into a hug. "I know. I'm sorry. I wasn't talking about anytime soon," she whispered, giving Paige an apologetic kiss. "Are you mad at me, now?"

Paige managed a weak smile and mouthed the word "no."

"Are you sure?" Hanna tilted her head as she gazed intently in Paige's eyes.

"I'm sure," Paige assured her. "I'm not mad." Hanna smiled and leaned in for a kiss, but Paige pulled away. "Just don't pull one of those, 'Oops! I didn't know that Emily was going to be here!' surprise meetings, okay?"

"Paige, I would never," Hanna assured her, even though Paige was half-joking. "You know that, right?"

"I know that," Paige said, barely audibly.

Hanna was confident that she would get the two of them back to being friends. But there was no hurry. She had waited Paige out in the dark days after the break-up, gently prodding her when it was appropriate, but giving her space when she needed. It was going to take that same kind of delicate but persistent balancing act to get Paige back to a place where she and Emily could be friends. It was a place, Hanna felt, that, deep down, Paige really wanted to get back to.

Hanna slid forward on the bed, aligning her body with Paige's, breast to breast. Her foreplay promise had come delightfully true. She put her hands, one on top of the other, on Paige's chest and rested her chin on top of them. Paige had a hand behind her head on the pillow as she looked up at her girlfriend. Her other hand was rubbing Hanna's back, keeping her close.

"Remember the first time I saw your boobs?" Hanna's head rose up and down with each syllable. Paige felt its movement against her sternum.

"How could I forget that night?" Paige mused fondly.

Hanna took her right hand out from underneath the pile on top of Paige's chest and stroked her cheek with it. "Don't get mad, but... I really... kind of... wanted to see them."

"Yeah?" Paige was wearing the smile that she always seemed to wear when Hanna was talking to her.

"Yeah. I mean, I've seen hundreds of boobs, Paige." Hanna lifted her head off of Paige's chest and raised her eyebrows for effect as she repeated, "Hundreds. I've sketched them... I've taken classes on them..."

"You've taken classes on... breasts?"

Hanna nodded, relaxing her head on top of her hands again. "How to design for them. You know, how to accentuate them, or minimize them; make them flirtatious or business-like."

"Wow." Paige was genuinely amazed. "Boobs 101."

"Don't get me wrong. I mean, I really did want to see them, but, let's be honest: Your bra definitely wasn't working with that top," she said derisively. "Still..." She scrunched up her nose. "Was that a violation?"

Paige laughed out loud. "Oh, yeah! Of course it was!"

"Sorry?" Hanna gave her puppy-dog eyes, batting her eyelids.

"It's fine," Paige whispered, gently stroking Hanna's hair. "I have no complaints about that night."

"And now," Hanna said, sitting up astride Paige, leaving Paige's breasts in full view, "now, I get to see them whenever I want. How lucky am I?"

Paige put her hands on Hanna's thighs and rubbed them gently. "Luck didn't have anything to do with it. You earned it. You don't strike me as the kind of person who relies on luck, Hanna. You work hard. And, as Coach Fulton always remind us, if you put the work in, the results will follow."

"Mmm," Hanna intoned, acknowledging Paige's point. "I still say I'm lucky. We both are. Out of all the billions of people in this world, what are the chances we would find love together, in tiny little Rosewood?"

Paige looked up at the beautiful creature sitting naked astride her, as Hanna looked down at her with pure love in her eyes. She certainly felt lucky.

Epilogue

"Hey, Paige!" Hanna leaned over towards Paige and nudged her in the ribs, gesturing with her head. "Check it out! Bridget Wu went back to her natural hair color!"

Paige looked up, doing her best to stifle a laugh when she saw Bridget Wu's hair, dyed lime green and bleached white at the top. "Hanna," she chided softly through a smile.

"What? It's nothing I wouldn't say to her face!"

"Yeah, knowing you, I bet you actually would say it to her face."

"Actually," Hanna said theatrically, "I already did."

"Oh, you did, did you?" Paige knew that Hanna was just pulling her leg.

Hanna nodded, smiling mischievously. "And do you know what she said when I asked whether the carpet matched the drapes?"

Paige rolled her eyes, anticipating whatever outrageous joke Hanna was about to make. "What did she say," she asked in a perfunctory, dry monotone.

"She said, 'What carpet?'"

"Hanna!" Paige reflexively slapped Hanna on the shoulder. "What the hell is wrong with you?" she asked through a broad smile.

"You know, because there is no carpet," Hanna explained needlessly, wanting to milk her joke a little bit more.

"I know what you meant, Hanna."

"There is no carpet!" Hanna repeated for effect.

Paige shook her head. "You're such a sitcom."

"I'm a sitcom?"

"Yes," Paige asserted, "you're a sitcom."

"Is this about Hannah Montana? Because I thought I'd heard the last of that in middle school."

"No," Paige replied. Hanna leaned forward in curiosity as Paige explained, "Okay, I've been doing this thing where I assign Netflix categories to people. So, you're a sitcom: A bunch of hilarious situations, with random shit going down, a ton of laughs, and an ending that makes everybody feel warm and happy." Paige extended her hands in a "Ta-da!" gesture.

"And you do this for everybody?"

Paige shrugged. "Pretty much, yeah."

"So, Spencer is…"

"A detective story."

Hanna fired off more names, in rapid succession, nodding her head or furrowing her brow as she considered Paige's responses.

"Aria?"

"Hallmark romance."

"Mona?"

"Psychological thriller."

"Caleb?"

"SciFi/Fantasy."

"Emily?"

"Soap opera."

Hanna tilted her head, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, I could see that." She bit her lip. Paige leaned a little closer, prompting her to say what was on her mind. "Do you... think you can ever forgive her?"

Paige leaned back, blowing out a deep breath of air. It seemed Paige couldn't even mention Emily's name without Hanna reminding her that they needed to be friends again. Paige stayed silent until her facial muscles relaxed. "I forgive her," she said at last. "I've forgiven her."

"Good," Hanna said, grasping Paige's hands, which were balled into loose fists. "Because holding on to resentment only hurts you," she pointed out.

"I forgave her," Paige said, matter-of-factly.

"But..." Hanna prodded.

Paige shook her head slowly. "Not as long as she's with that blonde psycho."

"Hey!" Hanna grabbed Paige's arm, to lighten the mood. "Not all of us are bimbos, you know!"

Paige raised her hands in surrender. "Present company excluded," she said with a laugh.

"Maybe I should go brunette." Hanna tugged out a couple of strands of her hair to look at them. "What do you think?"

"I think you'd be gorgeous whatever hair color you choose."

Hanna smiled, moving her hand onto Paige's cheek. After it landed there, she stroked her fingers through Paige's hair a couple of times. "I could totally see you as a blonde."

"Oh really?" Paige smiled gamely.

"Yeah, maybe cut it to shoulder length and go platinum, with a touch of curl."

Paige grinned, shaking her head. "That would be too weird."

"What's so weird about that?"

"You, remaking me into your own image."

Hanna opened her mouth to say something but simply breathed out instead. She curled her face into a frown. "You're right, that would be weird. It'd be like dating myself. Which would be awesome," she teased, "but kind of selfish, not to share both of me with the rest of the world."

A silence hung between as Hanna tried to get back to her earlier point. "And speaking of dating blondes..." Paige furrowed her eyebrows, not sure where Hanna was going. "I get why you'd want to stay away from Emily, but I don't think..." She sighed. "I'm not saying you need to make nice with Alison. But, as I said, by punishing Emily, you're only hurting yourself." She quickly grabbed Paige's hand, hoping to assuage any hurt feelings.

Paige turned their hands over, tightening the grip slightly. "Hanna, I'm not doing it to punish her. I'm doing it to..." Paige exhaled deeply, shaking her head. "Look, if I'm back in Emily's life, we both know what that'll do to her girlfriend." Hanna nodded. "I just think it's best for Emily if I lay low." Paige took Hanna's other hand and leaned in close, tilting her head. "Maybe you could let Emily know that's why?"

Hanna nodded. "Of course," she whispered. A moment later, she chuckled, half scoffing. "And I guess I don't have to ask what the blonde psycho's Netflix type is..." Hanna gestured dramatically with her hands, spreading her fingers out wide. "Horror!"

"Yeah, right," Paige said with a laugh. "One of those zombie films where the villain just refuses to die..."

"Mmm," Hanna intoned sympathetically. She took Paige's fingers, rocking them back and forth. "So..." She tilted her head, letting it rest on her own shoulder, and smiled coyly. "What category are you?"

"What category am I?" Hanna nodded, her head still resting on her shoulder. "Well." Paige cleared her throat. "I've always thought of myself as drama," Paige replied. "But I think that my story's being told differently now." Paige shifted in her seat, looking up at the sky as she thought it over. "Did you ever watch the Mary Tyler Moore show?" Hanna nodded. "So, you remember Lou Grant. Now, Ed Asner was not a comedic actor before that show, but his character was one of the funniest ones in the cast. Anyway, after the show ended, the network gave him his own show, 'Lou Grant,' but it was a drama, instead of a sitcom. It was the same character, the same life, only, in the spin-off, the story was told as a drama. So, I think I'm a drama, by myself. But, when I'm with you, my story becomes a sitcom."

"So that makes me Mary Tyler Moore?"

"I guess," Paige said with a shrug.

"Good answer," Hanna said, touching her index finger to Paige's forearm, to let her know that she was kidding. "Because she was hella thin!"

Paige rolled her eyes, smiling wistfully. "She made life fun," she husked softly, pulling Hanna in for a kiss. "Just like you."

"Aww..." Hanna gave Paige a hug, kissing her as they parted.

"It hurts me when you joke like that," Paige admitted softly.

"I know," Hanna said, dipping her head - a maneuver she'd picked up from her girlfriend. "I don't really think that way. Not anymore. It's just... the jokes are just force of habit, I guess." Paige frowned, but nodded her head. "Caleb never made me feel that way," Hanna added urgently, not wanting Paige to blame her ex for her insecurities. "He made me feel... the way you make me feel. Like a blonde bombshell." Hanna smiled shyly.

"Like Marilyn Monroe!"

"Like Marilyn Monroe," Hanna giggled, rubbing Paige's arm. "You remembered."

Paige's head tilted backwards in laughter. "As if I could ever forget that night!"

"You and Emily were the wedding cake from outer space!" Hanna kissed Paige as they enjoyed the memory. As much as they were going through back then, it somehow seemed a simpler time, through the filtered lens of nostalgia.

When they finished their lunch, Paige stood up and helped Hanna to her feet, welcoming her with a kiss. Hanna stopped as they passed the table where Bridget Wu was sitting. "Hey, girl," she said, giving Bridget a hug and Paige a wink. "I see you went back to your natural hair color!"

A/N - Yes, I know it's kind of an abrupt way to end their story. Sorry. To be honest, I'm not really sure how their story ends, so I thought it best to leave some room for you all to fill in the blanks as you see fit. (I'd love to hear where you think their story goes, if you'd care to let me know in a review or a PM...)

Thank you so much for indulging me as I got this out of my system. Your reviews have been so much more than kind. I know that many of my readers are hardcore Paily fans (like me), and the fact that you were so generous with this story means the world to me.

I honestly love you all! 3