Trixie, Delia, and Patsy sat out on the patio as they watched Ellie play with some neighborhood children in their backyard, using their makeshift football pitch.
Trixie had been rambling on about different topics, though Patsy and Delia didn't really mind.
"It's really nice you have this," Trixie said, gesturing at the pitch with a cigarette-laden hand, "Ellie and the children seem to love it and; oh-my-god-they-are-flirting!"
Patsy jolted up at the exclamation as Delia automatically said, "No they're not."
The trio all leaned forward, watching as a young, sandy-haired boy went chasing after Ellie, who benevolently danced out of his grasp.
Patsy bit her lip. It did in fact appear to be flirting.
Trixie formed two "O"'s with her hands and brought them to her face as she imitated binoculars while also saying in an overly Australian accent, "And we're here, in the wi-ld, where the male has chosen a female to court!"
This earned her a violent kick to the shin from Patsy.
"Ow!" Trixie shouted, "That actually really hurt, Patsy!"
Instead of answering, Patsy looked meaningfully at Delia's slightly panicked expression.
"Delia…" Patsy said, nudging her wife.
"What…what do we do?!" Delia whispered hoarsely.
"Delia, it's okay, she's fine," Patsy chortled.
"Dear Lord, Delia, chill out, will ya?" Trixie said with raised eyebrows, "You've had the talk with her, didn't you?"
Delia and Patsy shared a knowing look.
"Yes, of course we did," Patsy said.
"And you talked about…you know…male stuff?" Trixie asked in a mockingly shy voice, an amused glint in her eye. She knew about The Book they had.
Patsy rolled her eyes.
"We did, Deels, she'll be fine."
"Yeah, you're great parents, she won't do anything stupid," Trixie amended.
Delia still didn't look convinced.
"Here, darling, why don't you go get the food," Patsy placated, "I'll finish this cigarette and help you."
Delia gave them a frown before getting up and disappearing in the house, the moment she was gone, Patsy turned on Trixie.
"I want to know his name, where he lives, where his parents work, and how old he is," she said in a dark tone.
"You are no better than she is," Trixie sighed, tapping some ash in the ashtray.
"I'm worse."