"Joanie," Cherie's young voice croaked. "Joanie, help me."

Joan's mind raced as she slept, her dreams more vivid than she'd had in a long time.

"I want you, Cherie," Joan could hear herself say, echoing slightly.

"I'm not that girl anymore."

There were just segments of words floating through her mind, sporadic images of her memories, twisted and contorted by the illusiveness of her subconscious.

Joan jolted awake, her eyes adjusting quickly to the darkness. She clenched her jaw, running her hand through her hair. Another night that she dreamt of Cherie. Over the years, the occasional Cherie dream would have floated through her head, but it had been almost every night now. And every time she woke up, Joan felt this painstaking knot in her stomach, a mix between anxiety and desire. She got up and had a glass of water, trying to shake the images out of her head. She didn't like these dreams – they brought back too many distant memories that Joan had promised herself she had gotten over. She dreamt of the first time she and Cherie had sex, the whirling uneasiness of the drugs at the time making it difficult to remember when she was awake. But in her dreams, Cherie was so real it was almost painful to see her, young and naïve. Her shaggy blonde hair sticking to her face as she slithered beneath her, Joan's eyes scanning her constantly. She could see the pain in Cherie's eyes the day that she quit the band, or the way she looked when she cried. Joan didn't want to have these memories painted so vividly any more. She didn't know why this was happening.

Over the past few weeks, Cherie and Joan had either spoken to or seen each other every day. After nearly 30 years of no communication with someone, this was overwhelming. They didn't really talk about their kiss, not because they didn't want to, but because they hadn't found the time. They were both running around like chickens with their heads cut off, trying to get this movie together as well as the hundreds of other things going on in their lives. But when Cherie walked in the room, Joan felt a sense of balance. They would often exchange a look with each other that made everything seem normal, like they both knew what the other was thinking. Joan was glad they still had that connection.

For Cherie, having Joan back in her life meant a million different things. It brought up a lot of old memories that still hurt her, but it also brought a sense of excitement back into her life that she hadn't really had for a long time. When Joan was in the room, Cherie was calm, collected. The moment she left, Cherie felt this underlying sense of unease. It was frustrating because it made her feel like that 15 year old valley girl that tried to be tough but was screaming on the inside; the girl that followed Joan around like a puppy because she was the only one who understood her; the girl that felt safest when she was lying, standing, singing next to Joan. But, she had grown up and a lot of things had happened since then, things that Joan could never understand, and to feel like she did all those years ago made her wonder how much she had really changed.

Joan sat in the coffee shop waiting for Cherie. She sipped her drink, casually peering out the window for any signs of her. Finally, she saw her blonde hair glimmering in the California sunlight. A smile played on Joan's lips as she waved at her. Cherie gave her a hug before sitting down across from her.

"How's it goin?" Joan asked.

Cherie smiled. "It's going. What's up?"

They chatted for a few minutes, Cherie excusing herself to get a cup of tea. They talked about their day, the film, about nothing in particular. The conversation was so effortless between them – they always had something to talk about.

Joan leaned forward, her hands wrapped around the warm coffee cup. "Cherie, I've been havin really intense dreams lately." She smiled slightly, changing the subject.

Cherie frowned. "About what?"

"About you," Joan said definitively.

A smile spread across Cherie's face. "And what happens in these dreams?"

"Depends," Joan said hoarsely. "Sometimes it's almost like a memory and sometimes its stuff that's never happened before, but you're always there. I…I just…I'm not really sure what to do about it."

"There's not really much you can do about it, Joanie," Cherie replied. "Why do you look so serious about it? It's just dreams."

Joan sighed. "Cherie, you're all I can think about." Even when they were in the Runaways together, Joan had never been this honest about her feelings with Cherie.

Cherie swallowed, studying Joan's face. "Joanie, c'mon," she said softly.

"What am I supposed to do, Cherie?" Joan asked, practically in a whisper.

Cherie tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes darting across Joan's face. "I guess we should talk about this, huh?"

Joan sighed. "Is it just me? Am I the only one who feels this thing?"

Cherie sat back in her chair, sipping her tea. "No," she said softly.

"I mean, it's fucking with me. It's been all these years but I swear to God, it's like you never left. Like you never…" Joan trailed off, hesitant to bring up all the painful memories.

"We can't pretend that none of that happened," Cherie said. "We were so young back then. We were wild, we were just thrown into the most ridiculous situation that I look back on and scratch my head about. I barely survived, Joan. It literally almost killed me. That's a big deal."

Joan clenched her jaw. "A lot of shit has happened, I know. I'm not the same 16 year old punk that I was either. I'm all grown up now too," she smiled weakly. "But, when you walked into the room that first time I saw you again…shit, Cherie. I was practically shaking."

Cherie smiled. "So was I."

"And when I kissed you," she looked at Cherie, trying to gauge her reaction. "it just felt so fucking good, you know? It felt like…I felt like a kid again."

Cherie laughed. "We can't let this complicate things. I mean, this project means the world to me and to those girls and if we try and fuck with the dynamic as it is… it could get pretty ugly."

"I'm not asking you to marry me, Cherie," Joan said, smiling. "I'm just asking you if it's okay that we kissed."

Cherie looked at Joan for a moment, their eyes locked. She admired how warm Joan's brown eyes were, like melted chocolate. She wanted to stare at them forever, and it brought her back to the intensity of their youth spent trying to figure out exactly what they hell they were doing. She placed her hand gently over Joan's on the table. "Of course it's okay."

Kristen stared into the bottom of her glass as she filled her mouth with the last of her beer. She never liked drinking alone, but Scout had canceled on her and she was already 2 beers in – what's to stop her now? She swayed slightly as she listened to the music playing loudly from the stereo – Rebel, Rebel by David Bowie. She sang along as she cracked open another bottle, watching the golden liquid fill her glass. She stared at her phone for a minute, half daring herself to call someone – someone in particular. But what fun would that be, three drinks in, inviting someone like her over. She probably wouldn't even have a drink; she was such a good girl. Maybe she could be convinced…

She put her phone down and shook her head, heading out onto the back deck for a smoke. She sat there, inhaling and exhaling, watching the cloud of grey smoke billow out in front of her. She stubbed the cigarette out, reaching into her pack and pulling out a joint she had rolled earlier. She lit it, taking a long drag, tasting the sweet smoke on her tongue, and exhaled, feeling the burning in her lungs. She took a sip of her beer, looking out into the distance, trying to think of absolutely anything else except her.

She could feel her head become fuzzy and she smiled to herself, letting the light-headedness take over. She held the smoke in her mouth, letting it float out slowly before sucking it back in. She closed her eyes for a minute, letting the high wash over her, clouding her thoughts, when she heard the door open behind her. She whipped around and saw Dakota standing there. Her heart raced and she quickly ashed the joint out on the table.

"Uh, hi," Kristen said, surprised.

Dakota smiled, realizing what Kristen had been doing. "Sorry, I was in the neighbourhood and I thought I would drop by."

Kristen ran her hand through her hair, taking a sip of her beer, trying to calm herself down. She didn't like to be high around Dakota – she felt awkward and entirely too obvious.

"No, that's cool. I was just, uh, having a smoke. Did you want a drink?"

Dakota looked at Kristen's glass quickly. "Sure."

"Anything in particular?" Kristen asked.

"I'll have what you're having," Dakota replied, smiling innocently.

Kristen flicked her eyebrows, intrigued by her response. She nodded toward the kitchen and they walked in, Kristen trying to keep her eyes off of her. The room felt very bright now, and she turned down the music. Her eyes were squinting slightly, and she knew she looked stoned as hell. She got a beer out of the fridge and poured it into a glass, sliding it over to Dakota who was leaning against the counter.

"Thanks," she said, smiling.

"Yep," Kristen replied, her mouth feeling dry. She took a sip of her beer, rocking slightly on her heels.

"What have you been up to?" Dakota asked, looking around the kitchen.

"Nothing, really. Scout was gonna come over, but she bailed."

"That sucks," Dakota said, taking a sip of her beer. She made a face. She was trying very hard to acquire the taste for beer, but it wasn't easy.

Kristen smiled, looking at the ground. You Drive Me Wild came on through the speakers and they both chuckled slightly, thinking of Joan.

"I like this song," Dakota said.

"Me too. It was the first song she ever wrote, apparently."

Dakota smiled. "It's good." She took a step toward Kristen.

"I'm sorry," Kristen said, clearing the throat. "I'm, uh, I'm kind of stoned."

Dakota laughed. "I know. It's okay." She leaned toward Kristen and their shoulders were touching now.

Kristen could smell Dakota's perfume – it was soft and feminine. She loved it.

Dakota took a sip of her beer, and they stood there quietly, the only sound coming from the stereo. They began chatting about nothing in particular as they drank, reminiscing about their first few weeks on set.

Kristen felt a little drunk now, and her head clouded over. She pressed slightly against Dakota playfully, biting her lip. Dakota put her now empty glass down and looked over at Kristen, staring into her piercing green eyes.

"I have to tell you something," she said softly, feeling slightly lightheaded.

Kristen swallowed hard, feeling like everything was echoing. "What?"

"I really, really want to kiss you." Dakota blushed, looking at the ground quickly after she said it.

Kristen laughed awkwardly. "Umm," she said, not sure how to respond. "I don't know if that would be such a good idea."

Dakota swayed slightly, her arm grazing by Kristen's. "Not everything has to be a good idea."

Kristen looked up at Dakota quickly, realizing how close they really were now, and her heart slammed against her chest. She felt guilty for wanting it too, but her shyness was fading away and she slowly placed her hand on Dakota's hip, lacing her fingers through her belt loop.

Dakota felt the heat in her face as her heart raced. She could smell the smoke on Kristen's clothes but she liked it – it was cool and sweet. She stood very still, not sure what to do next. Kristen leaned into her and they both closed their eyes, their lips meeting for a single second before they both pulled away, realizing what was happening.

Kristen let go of Dakota quickly, feeling embarrassed.

"That was weird," Kristen said, looking away.

Dakota stood there, feeling uncomfortable. "It was, like, one second."

Kristen nodded, taking a sip of her beer. "Shit," she mumbled.

Dakota stood there thinking about when Cherie had told her about the first time she and Joan had kissed – it didn't happen quite like this. Dakota looked up at Kristen, wishing she could read her mind.

"I'm sorry," Dakota said slowly.

Kristen looked at her, feeling instantly guilty. "N-no. Don't be sorry. It's not that, it's just…I, uh…" she struggled to find the words, feeling nervous and tongue-tied, like she was in an interview.

"It's okay. You don't have to – "

"Dakota," Kristen said softly. She liked the way her name sounded on her tongue. "This is just a little intense right now. Like, fucking intense. I'm just trying to wrap my head around this."

Dakota nodded, shifting on her feet. "It was just a tiny kiss."

Kristen winced. "I know, but…I can't. I'm sorry, I can't."

They were quiet for a moment. Dakota, feeling confused and slightly bolder than usual, broke the silence. "Why not?"

Kristen sighed. She just looked at Dakota, hoping she understood without her having to say it. Dakota just stared back at her curiously.

"Look, if things were different…" Kristen started.

"You mean, if I was older?" Dakota interjected.

Kristen took a deep breath. "You have to understand," she said.

"That's not fair," Dakota said seriously.

"What's not fair?"

"You can't…you can't treat me the way you do and then just…just say something like that. I'm not a toy, you can't just play with me."

Kristen frowned. What the hell was she talking about?

"What?" Kristen asked, confused.

"The way you look at me, the way you talk to me and touch me all the time. You're always taking care of me, even when I don't need it, and you just…it's not fair." Dakota crossed her arms.

Kristen's mouth fell open slightly. She wished she was a little more sober for this conversation. "Dakota, what are you –"

"Stop," Dakota said, cutting her off. "Don't pretend you don't know."

They stared at each other for a solid minute, Kristen trying to figure out how the conversation got so intense and Dakota challenging her on it.

Kristen had no idea how to respond – her mind was racing trying to figure it out. But, the same thing kept popping into her head and she continued to push it out: she wanted to kiss her again. She wanted to push the limits and see what would happen, but she was just so fucking young…

Kristen shook her head slightly, taking a gulp of her beer before collapsing the space between them, her lips crashing against Dakota's in a truly spontaneous gesture. Dakota resisted at first from the surprise but she leaned into the kiss and a wave of excitement washed over her and she got what she wanted. Kristen held Dakota's hips lightly in her hands, trying to take it slow. She was used to a kiss never just ending as a kiss anymore but didn't know what the hell she was doing now. She was cautious, trying not to take control even though she felt like the more dominant one. She couldn't help but notice how different it felt to kiss a girl – it was softer, and her lips were smaller. She kind of liked it. She felt Dakota's tongue touch her bottom lip ever so slightly and she slid her own across it. This was actually quite a good kiss, Kristen thought to herself as she fought the urge to take it further. She pulled away, looking at Dakota's rosy face, her eyes still closed as she lingered in the moment. Kristen dropped her hands from Dakota's waist, and shuffled awkwardly on her feet. A smiled crept across Dakota's lips and she just stared at Kristen, feeling this unbelievable affection toward her. Kristen met her eyes and a tiny grin played on her mouth, though she tried to hide it.

"Shit," Kristen said under her breath. "I need a cigarette."

Dakota nodded, following her outside. They sat on the stairs, their legs touching slightly and Kristen lit a cigarette, trying to keep the smoke away from Dakota.

"Can I have one?" Dakota asked quietly.

"No," Kristen replied sternly.

"Why not?"

Kristen looked at Dakota. "Smoking is bad for you."

"Then why don't you quit?"

"Because I'm an idiot."

Dakota smiled and rolled her eyes.

They sat there quietly for awhile, the turn in the evening's events replaying in both their minds. Dakota sat there pleasantly satisfied, but Kristen was feeling guilty, selfish and a little perverted. A sense of unease washed over her, which she attributed to her tendency to get paranoid when she was high. She watched the red ember of her cigarette glow as she inhaled, blowing smoke out into the air above her head.

"I don't know what to say," Kristen said, breaking the silence.

"You don't have to say anything," Dakota replied sweetly.

"I shouldn't have done that. I'm…fuck. I don't know why I did it."

"You don't have to apologize," Dakota turned to face Kristen. "I wanted you to do it."

Kristen made an uncomfortable face. "We can't do this," she stubbed out her cigarette on the steps.

"Do what?" Dakota asked innocently.

Kristen looked at her and found herself studying Dakota's delicate face. She glared right into her big, blue eyes and tore herself away, afraid that she wouldn't be able to say what she knew she had to if she kept looking.

"We aren't Joan and Cherie," Kristen said softly, picking at the loose strands of denim on the cuff of her jeans.

Dakota laughed slightly. "Yeah, I know that."

"I mean, we aren't the way they were. It's not the same thing," Kristen struggled to be articulate.

Dakota put her hand on Kristen's arm. "You're over-thinking it," she said.

"No, I'm not. Dakota, we can't just…make out. We are just friends…"

"No we aren't," Dakota shot back. "We're more than friends whether you like it or not. We're different with each other than we are with other people, and you know it. Admit it, you like me."

Kristen glared at the look of amusement on Dakota's face.

"Of course I like you…"

"No. You like me, like me," Dakota added.

Kristen hesitated for a moment. She couldn't bring herself to say it. "Dakota, you're my friend and yes, I think you're gorgeous but, I've had a few drinks and I'm stoned and I just…it just fucking happened and it shouldn't have. That's it." She stood up, avoiding the look on Dakota's face and walked back inside. Her heart was racing and she felt instantly guilty for lying and for being a bitch about it. Dakota walked in a moment later.

"I should go," she said, her voice shaky.

"Shit," Kristen muttered under her breath. She took a step toward Dakota. "Please, don't be upset. I…fuck," she said as she saw Dakota's shoulders shudder. She put her hand on her arm, trying to look at her face. "Please, don't cry. I didn't…I'm stupid. We just…please, let's talk tomorrow. I don't want to make you cry, please…"

Dakota sighed, looking up at Kristen, fighting tears with every cell in her body. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow. Thanks for the drink," she tore away from Kristen's touch, walking to the front door and closing it gently behind her.

Kristen stood there, feeling the emptiness in front of her and felt like she was going to be sick. The last thing she ever wanted to do was make Dakota cry. She trudged up to her room, crawled into bed and hoped that in the morning everything would somehow miraculously be better.