-PatB-

"So, sleepy, are you ready for a bath?" Lisa teases Amy as she wakes.

"And could you put this thing away? It's hard again, but way too sensitive to use right now."

Amy mumbles, running her hand up and down it, "Better?" she asks after a moment.

"Yeah, but put it away anyway."

"Fine," she huffs, "I do the impossible, and you want me to put it away after using it once."

"That was more like four times,"

Amy's eyes open wide, "What?"

"We were on our second time with it when you passed out, I didn't know people did that outside of bad romance novels,"

"Yeah, they do that sometimes," Amy agrees.

"Then Lisa reassured me you would be fine,"

"Seven or eight times,"

"And then,"

"I wanted to ride Taylor's pink torpedo, too."

"Oh," Amy says in a small voice, "I told you it was a bad idea." She pushes down on the "torpedo," setting it back in place, then parts my hair gently, giving things a visual inspection. "You're safe, wrong time of the month, and no sperm about anymore."

"Time of the month?"

"Sperm?"

I'm not sure which of us said which.

"I have no idea, my lube was stringier than normal, but other than that and somehow thinking unprotected sex with my girlfriend was a good idea . . . " she trails off, then shrugs.

"What?" Lisa asks, propped up on one hand, looking down at Amy, who's finding the ceiling fascinating.

"You mean, instead of having perfectly safe sex with two other virgins, you decided it was better to have 'risks getting my girlfriend and my best friend pregnant sex' instead?"

"Yes?" Amy asks the ceiling.

"You thought," Lisa starts, her voice already sharpening, "That having Taylor's baby would-"

I slap my hand over her mouth. She licks my hand. That would have been a lot more useful to her a few hours ago . . . I shake that thought off while she attempts to give my hand a hickey, sucking, licking, and nibbling, "I admit, this was a rough last few weeks, but was this really a good idea?"

"Probably not, but," Amy shrugs, "I'm almost 17, it shouldn't be too much of a risk for me. I don't know how old Lisa is, but if she doesn't want to, or doesn't want to now, I can take care of it, either way. And that's if," she puts a hand on Lisa's tummy, "Well, it's the right time of the month, and the sperm are swimming their girly tails off."

My hand drops off Lisa's mouth, and I'm staring at her flat tummy, dumbfounded, completely at a loss.

"Girly tails?"

"Yeah, standard spermatogenesis, but I didn't make Taylor a Y chromosome. All girl sperm."

"Oh."

"I made a hundred thousand this week, and can certainly afford a baby even if I only work a few days a month. Now isn't a good time, but it isn't really a bad time, and I'm fucking scared the other shoe is gonna drop," Amy grabs my hand, and places it on her tummy, "If it doesn't, and I get pregnant, would you help raise my daughter?" She doesn't turn her eyes from the ceiling.

I turn her head to look at me, kiss her, "Of course I would," even through the swirling confusion I can say nothing else, "Our daughter," I clarify. "Next time we're gonna have unprotected sex, I want to know beforehand."

She smiles at me, the right side of her mouth curling up more than the left.

Lisa flops over, tucking her head under Amy's chin, "If I knew, we might not have, but," she shrugs, "Coil's gone, Noelle's depowered, Leviathan already attacked, we have plenty of money. There are much worse times to be a teen mom. And the odds aren't that good, even if it is the right time of the month, right?"

"No, but they are non-zero. That's why they make Saturday afternoon specials about it."

Lisa nods, eyes closed, "I don't think I can stay with you too long, too close. Same house, maybe, same relationship, probably not. Too mean."

"Maybe you can control the mean?"

"Or maybe I'll say something horrible enough to one or both of you," Lisa tucks a hand under Amy's shoulder, "If I get pregnant, I don't want to be the mother who's only had sex with another person once."

Amy pats Lisa's back, "We can work something out, even if you're an asshole sometimes."

I give them both a hug, "Bath now?"

Lisa nods. Amy says, "Lets."

-PatB-

I puff a glob of bubbles at Lisa, "First time you masturbated?"

"Watching internet porn."

"Reading. Some SF paperback," Amy says.

"Reading, but I think it was a hardback. I masturbated to a lot of books."

"First cinematic full frontal nudity?"

"Monty Python's The Life of Brian," Amy answers.

"Same," I say, "I was really surprised, just pop, naked girl, boobs and bush, big as life on the TV screen."

Lisa laughs, "Internet porn, again."

"First male full frontal?" Amy asks, poking me with a foot under the water.

"Um," I pause, "Watchmen."

"Internet porn!" Lisa answers.

"Watchmen."

"First exposure to porn?"

"I was like, "Eww, people put this up on the internet?" at eleven," Lisa laughs, "and just a little bit later it was all "Ooh, people put this up on the internet!" by the time I was twelve."

"Romance novels, oh, fourth grade, followed by internet porn as soon as I figured out how to get around the filters. I got Mark in so much trouble," Amy looks down at the bubbles.

I gather her into a hug before I answer, "I found someone's collection of porno mags in the basement, somewhere around first grade. I thought they were fascinating, getting to see all those people without any clothes," I laugh, "and they paid such close attention to the interesting parts! The ones everyone kept saying to keep my hands out of, that almost no one would let you look at," I smile, shaking my head, then sigh, "Emma was the first girl who would trade looks with me."

Lisa shifts closer, and leans in, wrapping around us both.

-PatB-

A/N: Stories where not communicating drives the narrative annoy me. That doesn't mean these three's talking will always lead to good decisions.