AUTHORESS'S NOTE: Here we are once more standing at the edge of completion. Urgh, I feel bad for those of you who liked it because I wanted it to turn out longer than this, but it didn't. What's the matter with me? Why couldn't I spin a longer yarn? Oh well. It is what it is, and this is the end of Mary/Rhoda for me. I've told their tale and it went about as well as could be expected, I think. One final chapter title lifted from James Taylor and then we'll move along to tying everything up with a pretty bow.

Muchas gracias a 13th Knight, Maddy y P-F para... *cough* I mean, for following along at my meandering pace. Sorry, trying my hand at learning Español lately with dubious results. Also thanks to Rhoda Fan and lovepopp for stopping by, and to any of you non-reviewers who liked what they read. And let's hope I've stirred up some talk, awoken the notion of Mary/Rhoda in enough minds that we might see more of it coming down the pipes! As for my writing... I think you might be seeing me again a lot sooner than before. But I'll keep that tucked under mi gorra for a while yet.

Until we meet again,

Jessica (Tyler) X

Chapter Ten: You've Got a Friend

The first thing Mary did upon awakening was allow herself a luxurious stretch. The second thing was to curl her body around the other one that happened to be lying on her sofa-sleeper.

"Morning, love."

Rhoda snorted loudly, blinked, looked around the room as if confused. Then she sighed and drummed up a bleary smile. "Hey."

"Have I told you lately how beautiful you are?"

"Hah!" Rhoda burst out, voice husky with the lingering vestiges of sleep. "You honestly think you're gonna get me in the sack with a line like that?"

"I was hoping."

Rhoda began stroking Mary's silky hair absentmindedly as she stared up at the ceiling. "What is this we're doing, would you say?"

"Snuggling?"

"Snuggling... nah, not that. I mean everything. You and me, together. It doesn't feel like it does with men, but on the other hand we sure ain't bunkmates at summer camp."

"I think it's better than with men," Mary said with a yawn. "It always feels like there's this pressure to be so 'feminine' with men, trying to tempt them or make them see that you're the comeliest girl they could ever find. But you and me... we both know how women really are because we are them. There's no pretense or, or constant fear of falling short of their expectations. Kind of liberating, isn't it?"

Rhoda scoffed, "Terrific. Absolutely marvy, Mary. Now you know you don't have to try around me. Next thing I know, you'll be sitting around here in slippers and a housecoat, with hair curlers and one of those avocado face masks, griping that I never take you anywhere anymore."

In reply to that, Mary pinched both of her ribs and Rhoda began to giggle. Mary crawled on top of her, pinching and poking and generally making fools of them both, and Rhoda's laughter grew louder and louder until they were both shushing each other, beet-red in the faces and out of breath, grinning like fools at a county fair.

"The face mask and curlers are still a way off for us, I think," Mary whispered heatedly as she rubbed along the outside of Rhoda's thighs.

"Then bring me my slippers," Rhoda demanded shakily. She was just preparing her lips to be assaulted by another set when there was a knock at the door. "What in the name of- who dares interrupt bedroom frolic?"

"Yes?" Mary called out. "Who is it?"

"It's Phyllis, of course! What's all that racket up here?"

Mary and Rhoda froze, only for the briefest of moments. Then it became very clear that they had made a huge mistake in hesitating when that time would have been better spent madly throwing every last stitch of clothing back onto their bodies. "Just a moment, Phyllis!"

"Why can't she ever just mind her own Goddamned business?" Rhoda hissed as they stuffed themselves into nighties and tossed the previous night's clothing into the bathroom. Then she muttered a quiet, "Pardon my French, God."

"Because she's Phyllis!" Mary hissed back. "If she ever once minded her own business, I think it would be a sign of the apocalypse!"

"Mary," the voice called from the other side of the front door, "I'm beginning to think you purposefully enjoy keeping me standing around outside like this! Why, I ask you?"

"Alright, alright," Mary yelled in a very good impression of someone who was merely a touch annoyed and not frantic. "I'm coming, don't explode."

When Phyllis strode into the apartment, she cast a disdainful look at the unmade and unfurled bed, sneered at the decorative "etc." now hanging underneath Mary's trusty "M", then spun gracefully toward Rhoda and Mary. "Well, then. Seems you two have had a little slumber party to which I was not invited, have you?"

"Every night will be a slumber party until we can find a daybed at a reasonable price," Mary told her. "I wouldn't be too jealous."

"Jealous?" Phyllis repeated, scandalized. "Me? Bah. As if I would still participate in such juvenile pursuits – or condone them for that matter. Behaving like schoolgirls at your ages!"

Rhoda glanced sideways at Mary, then turned to Phyllis and folded her arms. "Is that so? What would you say if we were up here doing a little heavy petting with each other instead? Is that more, uhh, 'adult' behaviour?"

"Yes, yes, I'd expect such lowbrow humour from you, Rhoda," Phyllis sniffed. "Anyway, I came to give you a scrap of good news."

"Yeah? You're terminally ill?"

"Rhoda!" Mary breathed, swatting her on the arm – even though both of them smiled slightly. By the time Mary turned back to Phyllis, her smile had politely faded to a twinkling in her eye. "What good news is that?"

"The lessee upstairs has decided he wants to become a rock-and-roll star," she said with a rock-and-roll of her eyes. "And he's certain the only place he's going to make any headway in that field is in Nashville, Tennessee. Therefore, he wants to know if I know anyone who may be willing to bail him out of his lease. Naturally, I thought of dear, sweet Rhoda."

"Dear, sweet Rhoda, am I?" Rhoda guffawed. "Well, how about you tell Elvis up there to find another sucker?"

Phyllis blinked. "Surely you jest. I come to you out of the goodness of my heart, giving you first chance at reclaiming your former hidey-hole, and this is what I get in return? Whyever would you refuse?"

After a brief glance at Mary, she took a deep breath and replied, "I think I'm happier with Mary."

"Really and truly? You're happier packing yourselves into the same bed like sardines?"

"Oh yeah. Less lonely this way, and cheaper for both of us – and considering what I make, that's a pretty big bonus. Saves on the energy bill in winter if you share body heat, right? Sure, it's more crowded for our clutter, and a little weird if we want to bring a guy home for the evening, but… there's ways around that."

At that statement, they couldn't help but grin. There certainly were ways around that particular problem.

"Oh, fine!" Phyllis burst out, as if offended by Rhoda's ridiculous nature instead of secretly alarmed at having to figure out whom she might rent the attic apartment to. "Fine, just be that way, Morgenstern! Who needs you taking up perfectly good space upstairs when Mary can find a nice cupboard to stuff you in?"

Before either of them could respond to that, Phyllis had already stomped out and slammed the door behind her.

"Such a joyful, carefree spirit, that girl," Rhoda muttered.

"Stop it," Mary sighed, though unable to wipe the grin off her face. "You've already stuck it to her enough for one day, there's no need to badmouth her behind her back."

"Oh, there is every need, Mary. Every need indeed."

"Rhoda!"

Chuckling, Rhoda casually paced to the door and spun the deadbolt. "Now… where were we?"

A devious grin lit Mary's face as she began to walk backward into her closet, headed for the bathroom. "We were about to take a shower. I feel awfully dirty after last night."

"Is that so? Then you can call me Mr. Bubble."

"Really?" Mary said with a smirk. "You want me to call you that?"

"Only if I get to call you... Tiddlywinks."

Then they were both giggling too much to talk. After that, the giggling gave way to other, more primal sounds… and it took a good deal longer to get clean than it ought to have.

o o o

"You seem aglow this morning."

It was futile, but Mary tried not to smile as she shrugged her shoulders. "Do I? Sorry, am I not supposed to be?"

"It is Monday," Murray said off-handedly, as if supremely disinterested in their dialogue. She knew better; he was dying to know why she was so chipper but knew he wasn't likely to get an answer if he demanded that she tell him outright. "The greater cross-section of America's workforce is groaning into their third or fourth cup of coffee by now."

"Well, the greater cross-section of America's workforce doesn't have a roommate like mine." Maybe she had said too much, but she couldn't force herself to care. Every part of her felt so alive and thrilled to be alive that bottling it up and hiding it felt like a crime against nature.

"Things going better than they were, I take it?"

"A little. I mean, it's still standing-room-only in there, but we're getting used to the arrangement now, I think. Anyway, it's better than snapping at each other the way we have been."

Murray nodded as he whipped a text-ridden sheet of paper from his typewriter and dropped it into his outbox. "If you say so. And that's today's leading story written. I'm off to lunch. You want anything?"

"Nope," she yawned, covering her mouth politely. "I'm going to grab lunch with Rhoda when she gets here."

"Peas in a pod," he said with an extra-cheesy grin, and Mary shook her head bemusedly as he flitted out of the newsroom.

As Mary resumed combing through their budget for discrepancies, most of her brain was draped with a light, fluffy blanket of bliss. Rhoda. After all her searching, hundreds (if not thousands) of dates with strangers and old friends alike all over the Twin Cities, in the end it had been Rhoda she was intended for. She alternately loved knowing it, wanted to scream, and felt herself looking around for Allen Funt to leap out and tell her she was on Candid Camera.

And if that never happened? If this was real? Then she was perfectly happy to let it be. Enough of her life had been wasted racing around to find her mate – and enough subsequent time wasted lamenting that she happened to be physically different from what she'd been expecting to find. It bothered her that their relationship would suffer at the hands of bigotry and secrecy, and that they wouldn't be able to get legally married, or be recognized by their peers and families as a "real couple", or have children naturally… but it no longer bothered her enough to deter her. Mary felt beautiful when they were together. She felt content.

And all the jealous naysayers could go soak their heads.

"Knock, knock, knock."

Mary looked up to see Rhoda had been leaning against Murray's desk for a while, watching her work. She smiled awkwardly. "Uhh… hey. How long have you been standing there?"

"Long enough to see how gleeful you are. Didn't I tell you how annoying I find glee in a woman?"

"But Madam, why should it matter to me what qualities you find annoying in a woman? Are you insinuating that you find me… attractive?"

"Hmm," Rhoda said, slipping into their playacting effortlessly. "Why, I may just. Does this present a problem?"

"On the contrary," Mary followed up with a grand sweeping gesture as she stood. "Rather than a problem, I say it presents an opportunity."

Rhoda clasped her hands behind her back and rocked back on her heels. "Ah, do tell! An opportunity of what sort, Mary Full-of-Grace?"

"One of great promise, Rhoda Scholar."

At that, Rhoda had to crack, giggling. "Rhoda Scholar. Ugh, you were really reaching that time, that's pathetic."

"Rhoda Touriches? Rhoda Touhell? Rhoda Onahorse?"

"Mary Christmas," Rhoda countered as she leaned in, an impish grin cropping up of its own volition. "Mary Touhiswork, or – my personal favorite – the nocturnal Night Mare."

Mary gave a fake shudder before laughing, "Mrs Mary Morgenstern."

"Mrs Rhoda Richards."

At that, they both stopped to look around, but thankfully the room was empty; most everyone was on lunch, even Ted. "Whew," Mary breathed. "We need to get better at watching what we say in public."

"Yeah," Rhoda said with a shaky smile. "I mean, unless you're ready to be office gossip for the next twenty years. Enough of my life is already on display in the Hempel's windows, I think."

As they were both smiling awkwardly, the door to Lou's office burst open and the man himself pelted out. "Mary, I need you to run this down to the mail room," he grunted. "The boy's already been by today and we need more film reels as soon as we can get 'em, so it can't wait until tomorrow's pickup." Then he stopped and blinked. "Oh, hi, Rhoda."

"Heya, Lou. How goes the production racket?"

"Good enough. You, uh, on your way to lunch, Mary? I can get somebody else to-"

"No, Mr Grant, don't be silly," Mary reassured him gently. "I can drop this off on my way out, it's really no trouble."

He debated internally for a moment, then nodded and handed her the supply order. "Yeah, okay. Just hate to be a pain in the posterior when you're off the clock, that's all. Have a good time at the chuck wagon."

"Okay, will do. Come on, Rho."

They were almost to the door when what she'd said caught up with her and she glanced backward over her shoulder at her boss. Lou's face was a mixture of confusion and disbelief, both in large amounts. Meanwhile, it was catching up with Mary that she had more or less just outed herself.

'Rho,' she fumed internally. 'I called her Rho. I told Lou my significant other's name is Ro, and he probably thought it was a coincidence that it begins the same way as Rhoda. Until now, when I just proved to him that I'm dating my roommate – and even if he wasn't assuming it before, he definitely is by now after seeing my face! Now he knows that there's something about me that's different, that I'm not as much of an average girl as he thought. That I'm not the same person he thought I was. Is he going to be hurt, or worse?'

There was a brief stalemate. Everyone stood perfectly still, digesting what was going on – except poor Rhoda, who had no idea what was going on at all. Eventually, she cleared her throat and said, "Whoever wins this unscheduled staring contest is paying for my lunch, right? Is that the stakes or what?"

"Right." Lou cleared his throat. "You, uh… you go on with, uh, with Rho."

"Mr Grant, are you sure it's okay?" Mary asked urgently, afraid that he was going to judge her, or think less of her, or be disgusted, or fire her, or spread it around the office so they could all be disgusted in unison. "I m-mean… I mean, that I go with her. T-to lunch, of course to lunch!"

Never in her life had she seen Lou Grant look so uncomfortable – and she had seen him uncomfortable many, many times over since he hired her almost three years previous. In the end, he tugged at his collar to loosen it, pulled out a handkerchief to mop his brow, then shrugged and nodded, saying, "Why not? It's the Seventies; people ought to be free to… have lunch with whoever they want. Just be on time getting back, willya? Even women who, uh, have lunch don't get to slack off."

"Right," she said with a huge, watery smile. "I won't. And… thanks, Mr Grant. Really."

With a gruff "Eh," he waved her away and stomped into his office, closing it with that medium-decibel slam he had spent an entire career perfecting.

"Do I need to dig out my secret decoder ring every time I drop by the newsroom?" Rhoda whispered as they made for the elevator. "Gosh, was that ever bizarre."

Mary shook her head. "It's not really that big a deal, I suppose. But… I think we just got Mr Grant's blessing."

"Huh?" Then she blinked in shock as the elevator dinged to announce its arrival, coinciding with the light bulb that went off over her head. "OH!"

"Yep."

"Geesh." As they wormed their way around the other five or six people on the lift waiting to reach the ground floor, Rhoda whispered, "Since when is good ole Lou psychic?"

Mary blanched as she pulled in her elbows. "That's kind of my fault. See, I asked him for some advice, and I used a pseudonym in place of… c-certain individuals' real names."

"You went to Lou about this?" Rhoda hissed in an exasperated voice. A few other passengers glanced back at them, and she smiled and waved like Miss America atop a parade float before turning back to her conversation. "Why would you do such a thing, are you cracked?"

"I am not Cracked, nor Mad, nor the National Lampoon or any other humour magazine," she said with a pretend air of dignity. "It was a moment bred from desperation."

"Desperation to what, watch him squirm, belt down a few shots of paint thinner and tell you to get out of his office?"

Mary shrugged as they watched the door to their car open and the people flood off and squeeze on. "In his own gun-shy way, he helped me stop being so wishy-washy about you and I. We really ought to be sending him a fruit basket."

"But we're lesbians." When a few heads whipped around, aghast, Rhoda sneered at them, "You know, actors?" They went back to minding their own business. Grinning, Rhoda dropped her voice even lower and whispered, "Hey, that was kinda fun. We should try that out a few more times elsewhere, see how many gaping mouths we can toss pennies into before they pull themselves together."

"You are incorrigible, Rhoda Morgenstern."

She pulled a thoughtful face. "That's my favorite kind of cheese when I'm on a diet."

"Nope, try again."

"Incorrigible… Goldilocks stole some from the three bears, right?"

In spite of herself, Mary was straining awfully hard to keep from bursting out laughing in the crowded car. "Let's say that I wouldn't encourage you to incorrige."

"Ooph," Rhoda gusted. "That was pretty incorrigible right there. Not to mention plain old, run-of-the-mill bad."

"Thank you very much." She would have bowed if space permitted.

Their pun-off was interrupted by their arrival at the lobby, where they weaved around groups of loiterers and found their way to the blustery sidewalk outside. Drawing their coats more closely around their waists, Rhoda said, "So where are we headed?"

"Noplace special. Lunch. Why, you in a mood?"

"In a mood to eat is all. Fine dining on pepperonis and small dead fish?"

Mary made a face. "You know I hate anchovies, they're too salty. Which… is why you brought them up. Wow, sometimes you are downright cruel for the sake of it, you know?"

"I am. It's one of life's greatest pleasures." Throwing caution to the frigid winds, Rhoda hooked her arm through Mary's and whispered, "Like being with you."

Mary felt her face begin to flush… and then stopped herself from letting it. There was nothing to be ashamed of, or even vaguely embarrassed. They were best friends, and best friends could always lock arms or hug or show their affection. If anyone wanted to read anything more into it, that was their business – and they would never know just how right they were. It was something Mary could mentally hold over them.

"Me, too," she whispered, imagining to herself that everyone would merely see the glow in her cheeks as being pinkness from the bite of the wind on her face. "I'd love to spend every day doing nothing but eating greasy chow with you. Because I love you."

For a moment, Rhoda was speechless – a biennial occurrence. Then she said in a would-be casual voice that was too full of emotion to quite pull it off, "If we did nothing but eat every day, we'd look like a couple of Goodyear Blimps in two weeks flat."

"I wouldn't care," Mary went on recklessly. "Because I looove you, Rhoda. I love you however you are, however you look, and however you blow off my heartfelt confessions."

"Okay, okay, I love you, too," Rhoda grumbled, though she couldn't hide her shy smile. "Now cut it out, you feeb. Why do you always have to make such a big deal out of things like this? Nobody says stuff like that anymore in today's cold, heartless world, do they?"

Mary grinned at the sun far above, half-obscured by clouds. "Sure they do; just because you don't hear it doesn't mean it's not happening. Love is all around; you just have to keep your eyes peeled. It could be somebody you're not expecting... like your best friend."

"For Pete's sake!" Rhoda burst out. "Now you sound like a Hallmark card! I thought the sappiness would end with the 'Baby I'm-A Want You' platter, but here it comes, chuggin' right along with a full head of steam! Ten-fifteen sappiness engine pulling into the station, and the conductor has his hand out ready for th-"

"Love," Mary reiterated as she pressed a finger to Rhoda's lips to keep her from babbling, "is all around."

And when they shared a romantic embrace in full view of a busy street of onlookers, that is exactly how it felt to the occupants of 119 North Weatherly, Apartment D. Belonging, contentment, excitement… peace. Everywhere. Then they went to lunch, where they had to send their pizza back because it was too cold, and Rhoda spilled Pepsi all over her lap, and all through the chaos they laughed and smiled at each other and dreamed about the future and made fun of each other's messy hands and faces. It was perfection.

For Rhoda and Mary, love was all around.

o o o THE END o o o
o o o (meow) o o o