"Sheila...you know I love anything you'd get me, but I have to ask…" Mel held up the tissue stuffed box to reveal the gift inside. "Why did you and Gary get me a sparkly tiara?"

"Don't you like it?" Sheila said through a mouthful of chocolate cake, rinsing it down with a sip of bourbon. As an afterthought she refilled Mel's empty glass on the bar; normally on a Friday night she would be bustling all over the counter, but the rest of the staff was happy to pick up more of the load so Sheila could serve up the birthday cake and give Mel her present.

"It's pretty."

Mel really didn't want to be ungrateful, but she had absolutely no idea what would possess her surrogate caregivers/employers to give her a more delicate version of a crown. Gary and Sheila were very practical in their gifts. For her twenty first birthday, she got her own set of drink glasses and a bottle of her favorite whiskey. Last year they had saved money to pay for the heater to get fixed before winter came in, as well as couple of new sweaters and snow boots. On her eighteenth birthday, Mel was given the keys to the old house; granted it was partially due to Sheila being unable to contact a serious exorcist to rid the place of what she swore up and down was her mother's ghost, but a house was a house.

Needless to say, Mel had no idea why for her twenty fourth birthday she had been given a tiara; whatever the reason, she was sure it wasn't Gary's idea.

Sheila leaned on the counter with an odd sort of half smile. "You remember how you told us your folks stopped doing birthdays when you were a kid?"

"Yeah." Mel nodded; after her brother died, their parents didn't seem to see much point in celebrating the birth of the child they would have rather been ran over.

"Well, I was thinking how you came to us when you were sixteen. I bet you never had a sweet sixteen then?" Sheila stabbed her cake with a rueful smile. "When I was that age, the thing to do was for the parents to give the birthday girl a tiara, because she was princess for a day…so...well…" her already rouged cheeks turned a brighter shade of red as she reached over to give Mel a warm hug. "It may sound 'lame', but I hope you know me and Gary consider you our princess."

Mel's eyes stung as she held Sheila back; they pulled away with huge identical grins and not for the first time did Mel wish she could have grown up with them as her family. Still, better late than never.

"Thank you."

Sheila dabbed at the corners of her eyes before raising her glass for a toast; Mel clinked her own cup with hers and took a large drink.

"I'm just sorry Gary couldn't get out of work." Sheila sighed.

"Tell him to stop hiring bums."

"The guy seemed okay at first; he'd been out on good behavior after all. Besides, you know him." Sheila smiled. "I'll never understand that man; he's the first to suggest an ass kicking to set someone straight and the first to give them a second chance afterward. Maybe I can be a pushover, but at least I have consistency."

"I know my brother would have loved to meet him. He hated it when I fought, so he'd be glad to know there was someone willing to do it for me instead." Mel said as sipped her whiskey.

"I still feel nervous about having that gun in the house. Lord, I hope he never has an accident." Sheila shook her head.

"I'm sure that won't happen. If you're careful, there's no reason for an accident." Mel shrugged; she never did tell Sheila about her own handgun still unloaded and nestled up in her closet.

"Maybe. I guess it is nice to have if, god forbid, someone does try to break in." Sheila shivered. "You just never know nowadays. By the way, Gary picked out your second gift all on his own."

"Aw, what is it?"

Sheila grinned and took another package from the pocket of her skirt. "He thought it was your style."

Mel took the hair clip in her hand; it's decoration was a pastel pink rose in full bloom.

"The tiara was more for sentimental purposes. This is to keep all that hair out of your face."

"I love it!" Mel began to put it through her hair immediately, pinning it in securely before turning her head for Sheila to get a good look.

"It matches your outfit anyway." Sheila winked; Mel was wearing her uniform, as she insisted on helping with the dinner crowd before taking off. It was fun sharing the cake with the Friday night regulars; besides, it was tradition to have the cake and presents at Sheila's.

"I love it." Mel repeatedly softly as she squeezed the older woman's hand. "And I love you two."

Sheila began to refill her own glass, the cake long gone from her plate. "Aren't we forgetting someone?"

"Hm?" Mel was busy checking how the rose looked in her hair as she surveyed her reflection in her compact mirror.

"What about that boy?"

"Boy?" Mel blinked and gave Sheila her full attention. "What boy?"

"Come on missy, you've been holding back from me, I can tell." Sheila lowered her voice. "Don't play dumb, I want details. God knows it's been a long time coming."

"Sheila, what in the world are you talking about?" Mel put away her mirror alone with the wrapped tiara in her purse. "I'm not seeing anyone right now."

"Are you telling me that absolutely nothing is going on between you and that JD kid?"

Mel looked at her impassively. "Sheila, you said it yourself. He's a kid."

"Oh you know what I mean. To me anyone under thirty is still a kid. And do not give me that look, he is only a few years younger and from what I could tell, a good few years more mature than half the men in this town." Sheila looked around at her patrons with a wry smile. "Make that ten years."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Sweetie, you look younger than him. Lord, he should be the one worrying, but it doesn't seem to bother him at all. But if that's really how you feel, and if I were you, I'd break it to him gently."

Mel looked at Sheila in confusion. "Huh?"

Now Sheila was feeling exasperated. "Mel, I know you didn't finish school, but this is making me depressed."

"Jason is not thinking that way at all." Mel said evenly. "He's glad to have someone looking out for him and a place to go; you're just looking too much into it."

"Are you sure you're only twenty four? 'Cause if that's the case, your eyes are worse than mine." Sheila replied. "Anyone with one eye can see that boy is crazy about you."

"I'm so sure." Mel drawled. "Sheila, you talked to him, for like what, ten minutes?"

Sheila had indeed come over not long before to check in on Mel the day after her hangover, intending to drive her to the 7-Eleven for work. JD was there and they had done the usual introductions, but the two women were out the door in no time and they had only exchanged a few words.

"Sweetie, remember when you tried that fancy whiskey Gary bought you last year during the Christmas party?"

"Sure." Mel could still recall the smoothness and how one sip had been enough to already get a good buzz going.

"And you kept looking like you were in heaven every time you took a drink; honestly, we were a bit worried…" Sheila frowned briefly. "But you can hold your liquor as well as the next person."

"Is there a point to this trip down memory lane?"

"Don't be smart."

"I never am."

Sheila frowned deeply. "Mel, don't talk like that."

"Sorry." Mel smiled and scratched her cheek. "So, what is your point?"

"That boy got the same look in his eyes every time you so much as opened your mouth."

"Oh Sheila, come on."

"He is over the moon. Mel, he may be young but he's not a child; at that age, it's easy to get a crush on an older woman showing you special attention. Hell, just being decently friendly may be enough to make any guy think he's got a shot."

"Jason isn't like that. I've never even heard him talk about girls at all."

"Well, what do you two talk about?"

"Well...books. He reads a lot. He tells me about school sometimes and about bombs. He really knows his explosives. And we joke around a lot." Mel shrugged. "We listen to music, eat, watch TV, casual stuff."

"So, you skipped the awkward first date phase and skipped to being an old married couple?"

Mel rolled her eyes. "Oh my god."

"I'm just saying, if I were you, I'd be really careful about not giving him the wrong idea." Sheila told her soberly. "Especially since you're planning on letting him move in when he's eighteen, right?"

"Yes, but I'm sure Jason won't want to stay forever. He'll probably go off to college and get a job. He can save up money while he stays with me, and then he'll move out, get a job he likes, have a degree, meet a nice girl his own age. He can start over his life the way he wants to and maybe he'll visit now and then." Mel swirled the half melted ice cubes in her glass. "At least I hope so. Jason deserves better than he gets."

Sheila stared at Mel like a hawk; her gaze was focused and her mouth set in a firm line.

"What?"

"You think you're not good enough for him."

Mel felt a tap on her shoulder; she turned around in her bar stool. "Heather?"

Sheila's eyed the teenager curiously. "Sweetie, how old are you?"

Heather Chandler sent her an impatient glare. "Sixteen. Is Mel busy?"

"She's not, but you shouldn't be over by the bar area."

Before Heather could make a remark, Mel was up and taking her by the arm.

"Come on, let's grab a table."

"I didn't come here to eat. I have to talk to you outside." Heather was surveying the room with distaste; the room was practically swaying as partons danced around, bumped into each other, and talked loud enough to make someone deaf. "Now."

"Okay, okay, hold your horses." Mel said as she grabbed her purse. "I'll see you later Sheila, tell Gary I said thanks if he picks you up."

"Sure sweetie, happy birthday." Sheila was looking at Heather warily but decided not to ask questions in front of her.

Mel took her behind the building where they put out trash; for whatever reason, Heather didn't seem to want anyone to overhear them. In fact, aside from roughly yanking her arm from Mel's hand, she had remained utterly silent, her eyes cast down and her hair falling into her face almost messily, at least for her.

"So, what's up?" Mel asked her once they were leaning on the wall; she could smell the garbage aroma wafting from the dumpster next to them. She waited for Heather to comment. Or to say anything. "Heather?"

She raised her eyes finally, her mouth set in a confident sneer instead of a thin frown. "This is the last place I want to be on a Friday night. But you're the only person I know who will keep their mouth shut for the favor I need. If you don't, I tell the cops all about how you planted that pot on those assholes."

Mel stared at her blankly. "So, you came here to blackmail me into doing something for you?"

"You make it sound so ugly." Heather smiled with all the poise of someone who held the upper hand. "But getting thrown in prison for your trouble is an ugly spot to be in. So, do we have a deal?"

Mel smiled and shook her head. "You're a real piece of work."

Heather's smile faltered as Mel began to walk toward the exit door. "Where do you think you're going? You think you have any choice in this? I can ruin your life with one word; who do you think they'll believe, me or you?"

"Tell the cops."

Mel was suddenly glaring at Heather, who stood her ground, albeit now she was feeling a bit unsteady.

"God, I knew you were warped, but this? Is this how you ask favors from people who only ever helped your sorry ass out?"

"I'm not asking. I'm telling you-!"

"Yeah, well then fuck off. No one tells me what to do, especially not some brat." Mel cast her one last scathing look before opening the door, her profile casting a shadow over Heather from the light pouring outside. She guessed J. D. had been right after all.

Heather's hands were shaking fists at her sides. "Don't talk to me like that."

"You make me sick." Mel grit her teeth. "Buzz off."

"You have to help me!"

Mel sighed. "I said, don't tell me what to do-"

"Mel, will you just fucking listen?! I need your help!"

Heather's nails were digging into her palms hard enough to break the skin but not draw blood; before she could stop herself, she fell to the ground, knees knocking into the freezing pavement, but she could hardly feel it. She wanted nothing more than to just melt into the ground and disappear.

Heather wanted to slap Mel right across the face. She wanted to throttle her and scream and make her regret she ever spoke to her in such a vulgar, cold way. Heather didn't care why or who, no one would ever get away with treating her like that.

Mel wouldn't get away with forcing her to this state.

"You're the only one I can go to, okay?! God, why are you making me do this, are you a fucking sadist?"

"Heather-"

"You know what? Go to hell!" Heather found a piece of broken brick and tossed it in Mel's direction, but all it did was bounce off the wall by her arm. She tried one more time with a smaller chunk as she saw Mel walk back to her, but all she could manage was to make it hit the top of her shoe. "Go away!"

"Heather, why didn't you just ask?"

"I did ask, you stupid cow!"

"No." Mel said forcefully. "I mean, actually ask me. Not threaten me. What is this even all about?"

Heather looked up at her through bleary eyes; her stubborn frown wavered as she tried to keep her bottom lip from trembling and the hot tears from falling.

"Don't look at me."

Mel knelt down in front of her as Heather kept her head bowed and she gripped her own arms; she just gazed at the top of her head. She was at a complete loss.

"I don't want you to see me like this, so just go, go and leave me alone. I don't care."

Heather wanted to gouge out her own eyes as she felt the tears slip out, no matter how tight she clenched them shut.

"I hate this...I hate her. Why can't she just do what everyone else does? Why can't she just not make everything so difficult?!"

She never should have come, but she didn't have much choice.

And maybe part of her wanted to.

"What's wrong?"

"You don't care." Heather shot back.

"Excuse me for not taking kindly to getting blackmailed." Mel retorted; she took a deep breath to calm down. "I want to help you, but you need to let me. No threats, no bullshit. Just ask. Is it that hard?"

"Yes."

"Okay...well, can you at least tell me what you need me to do?"

Heather mumbled.

"Huh?"

"I...I said…"

Mel frowned. "Sweetie, I don't speak deaf language. You have to speak up-"

"What the hell does it matter? If you're not going to help me, it's over!" Heather laughed hysterically and threw up her hands. "My reputation is dead as disco; I'll never be able to show my face, everyone is going to think I'm a slut, and of course Kurt won't get any shit for it, I'm the one who's going to get fucking stretch marks-oh my god." Heather gasped and put her hands to her mouth. "Oh my god, my body will be ruined!"

"Okay, you are really bugging out."

"Are you retarded?! Dammit." Heather put her hands in her blotchy face. "Goddammit, I'm doing it again. Why am I doing this, why am I even here? You're not going to help me, I can't do this, I'm ruined, I'm-"

Heather felt Mel's arms grip her shoulders; her eyes went to her calm face. The hands stopped the world from awaying and held her steady.

"Heather, I have no fucking idea what you're talking about. You need to tell me everything." Mel told her gently, but firmly. "Okay?"

"I'm royally fucked. I'm more screwed than a-a, a thing! I don't fucking know!"

Mel blinked. "Okay, maybe you're still a bit out of it." she leaned in and sniffed lightly. "Are you drunk?"

"And you know what? They're all going to turn on me. That's what happens when you have power; not just anyone can handle it you know, you have to get them before they can get you, the lying, two faced phony ass wipes...it's a fucking shark pit, that's what it is, and a fuck up like this is like jumping in covered in chum."

Mel frowned. "It...it doesn't sound like those are good friends to me."

"Well, I'm not their friend. So why not? You saw me in action, you think I'm a mythic bitch too, right?" Heather glared accusingly. "I deserve what I'm going to get?"

"I never said that."

"But you're thinking it."

Mel sighed heavily. "Look, here's the thing. Friendship is give and take. All you little bastards seem to do is use each other. So no, I'm guessing whatever trouble you're in is bad enough that if anyone at school still hung out with you, they'd give them shit. Like you would."

Heather hung her head. "So what?"

"I know what kind of person you are Heather. I don't know all the details, but I have a good idea. I did go to high school. Times change, but some stuff doesn't, at least from what I've heard...in fact, the way you describe it sounds exactly like how this other kid did. And I'm not going to let you treat me like shit because of your high school drama. But if you really need my help, I'll do what I can."

"Why?"

"What?"
"You know if you help me, I'll just go back to school and it'll be like nothing ever happened. I won't get what I deserve." Heather spat bitterly.

"It's not about that. I wouldn't feel right letting you get in trouble." Mel told her. "But you need to trust me. You came here because you thought I'd keep quiet right? So what is it? I'm getting antsy here, what's the big trouble?"

Heather hiccuped and Mel was hit with a blast of rum. "You're still wearing the lipstick."

"...you're really not all there right now, are you sweetie?"

Heather's reputation, her position, her whole life was about to be turned upside down and the only thing keeping her even close to grounded or sane was the hands holding her and Mel's steady voice. Mel was the only one.

"It really does look good on you."

"Thanks. See, even you can be nice sometimes...though you are wasted right now..." Mel smiled tiredly as she tried to think of a way to get Heather to focus. "How about we go inside and get you some water or-?"

"You need a touch up."

Mel was almost positively certain that Heather pressing her red lips to hers was not in fact going to fix up her own fading lipstick, but at the moment her whole brain was too busy being on the fritz to get into the logistics of makeup application via another person's mouth.

Heather pulled back and smiled goofily. "You look soooo dumb right now. So, can you go inside the store and get me a pregnancy test so I don't have to and assholes won't see me?"

Mel stared off into space as she helped Heather to her feet. "Sure. Let's get you some water first though while I get a shot." she ran a hand over her face and tried not to slap it in disbelief; she really needed to wipe her mouth. "Talk about your birthday surprises…"