[PBS knows my name and now so do you]

Leah has been posting videos online for literal years. She's honed her craft thanks to her favorite subject - her sister, her best friend - but that doesn't negate the awful gag-inducing nausea eating her up form the inside out as she sits (hides) between Bella's knees and waits for PBS to air the documentary Old Quil tricked her into making.

Another commercial plays and Leah scrunches her shoulders, which are wedged between the space Bella has made for her, up higher. Her fingers are curled, almost white-knuckled, over her knees. Sitting above her on one of the armchairs, Bella keeps petting the top of her head. It's more soothing than it has any right to be, but Leah doesn't protest.

They're in one of Robel Hall's common areas, the one on the first floor with the television set and the mostly-comfortable seating. Rose has, of course, taken charge of the remote and scared away anyone who looked like too much of an asshole, while Alice has been bopping around the growing crowd to pass out snacks to whoever looks like they want to stay and watch the trainwreck that has become Leah's life as of exactly twenty minutes ago.

"Minus two minutes!" Alice calls out. "Is everyone here? Does everyone have a seat?"

"You don't have a seat," Rose points out dryly.

"Oh!" Alice quickly turns around and snags the small free space between Rose and the arm of a couch. Alice bounces and turns a wide smile onto Leah. "I'm so excited! I've been waiting for this for weeks!"

"I think I'm going to barf," Leah mutters.

Bella pats the top of her head. "You'll be fine."

"I chose the wrong career," Leah tells her, shaking her head. "I can't deal with premiers. I'm physically ill. Look at me! I'm turning green!"

"That's the glow from the screen," Rose tells her with a snort.

So it is. Right. Okay, Leah is losing her shit. She really isn't cut out for this. She really -

Bella leans down and wraps her arms around Leah's shoulders, her chin pressing into the top of Leah's head. Bella gives her a solid squeeze. "Hey, you're freaking out for no reason, you know," she says soothingly. "This isn't all that different from the YouTube stuff, right? You were nervous the first time you posted something, but you got over it. This is the same thing."

"It's not the same," Leah mutters. "This is actually important."

Bella flicks her ear and Leah slaps her hand over it sting with a mild protest. Bella ignores her and flicks her other ear, instead. "Are you saying my life isn't important? This is a huge insult, you know. I spend the last, what, five or six years being your little film experiment, and it turns out the whole time, you don't even consider it important."

Leah blows out a huff of air. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Yeah," Bella says, the smile evident in her voice. "I do know it. But the point still stands."

Leah shakes her head again, reaching up to squeeze at Bella's wrists. "The point is that this is, like, the first step of my actual career. What if it sucks? What if it gets my name blacklisted and my entire career is ruined before it even starts?"

"Do you really think PBS would have chosen a dud as the winner?"

Well, no. When Bella puts it like that, it makes all of Leah's anxiety sound so unreasonable, which is probably the point. But still.

"Crappy movies are made all the time," Rose says from the couch, raising her voice just loud enough to be heard over the din of the television set and curious onlookers. "Look at everything Tarantino has made."

"Anything by Tim Burton," Alice adds around a mouthful of sunflower seeds.

"And that guy that made The Shape of Water," Bella tacks on, her tone playful.

"Hey!" Leah says sharply, feeling a little outraged in spite of herself. She knows this is another point, that they're deliberately riling her up to distract her from her nerves and damn them if it doesn't work. "I know you guys are just making fun of me, but those are all my favorite directors! And none of their movies suck!"

"You have to admit The Shape of Water was just...really, really weird," Bella says.

Leah will not admit that. Even if she agrees, she will take it to her grave.

She huffs at all three of them, and then when the familiar opening notes of her carefully-selected opening music plays on the television, she closes her eyes and tries not to cringe too much.

For all that Leah posts online, she hasn't ever witnessed anyone other than the La Push boys and her family watch the things she films. She knows the videos get a lot of views because she can read the numbers in her bank account, but she's never really seen the reception of her stuff from virtual strangers - so she isn't quite sure what she expects, but it isn't the hushed silence as her documentary starts playing, as her voice-over and cinematography takes viewers into the beauty and tradition of the Quileute Nation.

Leah takes a hesitant survey of the room. It's all Stanford students, so nobody here is dumb, but college students, in general, aren't the most likely candidates to watch a documentary. But she doesn't know - maybe it's because so-called Columbus day has just passed and the very recent memory of the on-campus Indigenous People's Day celebration is still fresh in co-ed minds, but there isn't a whole lot of yawning happening in the peanut gallery. A lot of people are actually watching with rapt attention, making themselves comfortable on the floor and leftover pieces of furniture. Someone asks Rose to turn the volume up, another hisses at someone to put their phone away.

Bella's arms squeeze around her shoulders again, like a silent, I told you so.

Leah takes a deep breath. She squeezes back. Yeah, yeah. I know, you're always right about everything. I was being dumb.

Leah turns her attention back to the television, watching her summer's hard work - now polished by the brilliant minds at PBS - play on-screen and in surround sound for everyone to experience. Her heart doesn't stop racing the whole time, and it turns out okay. It's fine. It's good, actually. Really good. Better-than-expected good, if she's being honest, but despite the knowing look Bella gives her, Leah isn't about to own up to the fact that her anxiety was mostly unnecessary.

Walking arm-in-arm back to their dorm, elbows crooked together, Leah rolls her eyes and Bella accepts it with her usual passively polite grace, flavored only by a glimmer of I told you so Leah can recognize all-too-well. Rose, meanwhile, has dedicated herself to tossing out positive Tweets in response to the documentary and Alice chatters about how engaged everyone in the common area was.

This is what success feels like. Leah tries to internalize it as much as possible - but for as well as she knows her sister, she knows herself even better. She'll be a grumpy, anxious mess the next time something this important comes up. Which is fine. She can live with it. Anxiety is good for the soul, or whatever.

It isn't until they are bedding down for the night that Bella rolls over in her bed and eyes Leah across the room. "So," Bella sighs out. "Now that this is over, have you given any thought to the other thing?"

"What other thing?" It's a valid question; there's always something to be thinking about.

"The thing hiding in the second drawer of your desk," Bella says slyly.

Leah jack-knifes in her bed and barks out words in a demanding tone. "You're not supposed to know about that!"

"I think you should do it," Bella says, blithely ignoring Leah's outrage. That boyfriend of hers is a bad influence. Bella used to be...a tiny bit less sassy. "Getting your MFA would be good, I think."

Leah makes a face. "That's at least another 2 years of school, maybe 3 if I intern somewhere."

"And?"

"And it's a lot of money!" Leah says incredulously. "Do you have that kind of cash lying around? I don't."

Bella sits up in her bed, too, her lips pursed into a serious moue. "Leah. Money is something we can figure out. Maybe you get another scholarship, or maybe you apply for some more loans. I can pitch in, too. Money is just...money. So, what's the hesitation really about?"

Leah takes a deep breath, releasing it slowly. Leave it to Bella to see clear through her. "I don't...want to be alone here. If I go for my MFA, then that's two whole years being…"

"Our codependency has to come to an end sometime, sis," Bella says gently.

"I know."

Leah does know that. She does. She just doesn't like it. But this is one of those growing-up things her mom told her about, right along with filing taxes and learning about what the actual fuck a mortgage was.

"It's not like we'll really drift apart. Physical distance isn't the same as, you know, emotional distance."

"I know that, too."

"Alright." Bella pauses, looks down at her wrist, twists that bracelet around. "But, you know, it's not like I'll be rushing back home, either. I have things here, people here, that I don't want to leave either, so I get it."

Leah snorts. "Oh, please. Just say that you don't want to leave your boyfriend and be done with it."

Bella lifts her chin. "It's not just Masen! It's the job, too. I'm still technically interning, but I think, maybe, I could have a place there. A permanent job, I mean, after I graduate."

Leah lifts her brows. "Is that on the table?"

Bella shrugs. "It could be. And with my degree, honestly, it's not like I'd want to move that far from Silicon Valley, anyway. And with yours, it makes sense to stay in California, right? We're both pretty much stuck here."

"Good points," Leah mutters, thinking deeply. Bella makes a lot of sense, but Leah figures that's mostly because Bella tends to do that, anyway. Still, it's reassuring. "I'm still going to think about it."

"I expect to see one of your Pro/Con lists any day now."

Leah reaches for the nearest thing to throw, which ends up being one of her socks. Bella dodges it with a quiet laugh and Leah rolls her eyes. Whatever anxiety-riddled tension had been riding the air has since disappeared and they both fall asleep easily.

When Leah wakes up the next day, she feels more settled. With Bella's assurance fresh in her mind, she spends more time actively thinking about what an MFA could do for her career. It would be more student loan debt, but hell, Leah's already going to pay for that for the next 20 to 30 years, so she might as well charge it up as much as she can, right?

Life goes on and Leah trudges along to her classes. Everything is normal.

Well, everything is a new normal.

It's about mid-week when she finally puts her finger on what has been bugging her in the back of her mind lately, and it's the fact that each of her closest friends is glued to their phones whenever possible. It takes a moment for it to click that all of her friends are in relationships now and she's the odd one out.

That's never really bothered her. She knows the kind of person she is and she doesn't think she's built for wanting to be with other people like that. But the companionship bit? That part does sound nice. She might not want to bang them - ever - but Leah thinks having a life partner would be good. Her codependency with Bella is proof enough that companionship is something she needs like air to breathe.

But - but the thing is this. Leah doesn't know if there's anyone who would make a good candidate. How do asexuals find partners? A dating app? Yeah, right. Leah isn't willing to compromise the sex part and she isn't even sure she could love someone deeply, romantically the way her friends seem to be able to. Who's going to put up with that?

The problem pings around in her head for a day before a possible solution comes to her. Bella had said something the other day about that pale, vampire-looking dude she works with - Alistair something. He's ace, too. Or aro. He's something or else Bella wouldn't have said anything.

Alright, maybe Leah is falling into her sister's clever set-up, but it's worth a shot, right? Leah could try going to the campus LGBTQ group, but Alistair is already screened by her sister for being relatively normal, which saves Leah some legwork. And as the only other possibly ace person Leah knows, he makes a good enough candidate. Plus, even for being more than a little tipsy on Bella's birthday, Leah remembers some things about Alistair - including his cutting tongue, which she has to admit she admires.

Is that enough reason to approach someone? It could be. She's heard of worse reasons, not that she'll name-names or anything (Jasper and Mike Newton and every other boy who's drooled over her sister's pretty face). At least Leah can pick something in Alistair's personality that she finds interesting. Whether or not that's enough to establish something, well. There's only one way to find out, really.

If he doesn't want to be friends or whatever, then she's lost nothing.

Knowing that her sister goes to Midnight Sun on Fridays, Leah makes a point to lie about needing to study at the library on Thursday afternoon so she can BART over to the office. A lifetime of barging into male-dominated spaces makes it easy to walk into Midnight Sun, and even easier to call out to this Alistair when she sees him passing by.

He comes to a sudden stop and swivels around to stare at her, a haughty twist to his face. He takes his sweet time to meet her in the foyer, an icy blond brow lifted high on his forehead. "You," he says in a low, clipped British accent. "What do you want? Bella isn't here."

"I came to talk to you. Obviously," she drawls out, crossing her arms over her chest. She tilts her head to the doors. "So, can I talk to you for a minute?"

Alistair sighs heavily. He looks tired, but it also seems like a perpetual thing for him. "Lead on."

Leah does, walking out of the building and going down the sidewalk a few fair steps before turning around. Now isn't the time to beat around the bush, so she just comes out with it. "Do you want to platonically date me?" she asks. "With the goal of being, like, platonic life partners?"

Alistair stares for a moment before a fine wrinkle forms on his brow. "Pardon?"

Okay. Probably not the best way to start out. Leah clicks her tongue, mostly at herself, and huffs out her frustration. "Look," she starts off with a firm tone that is, all in all, not exactly friendly or appealing to someone with who she's basically trying to, more or less, create a lasting emotional connection with. Whatever. It's not like she can help her personality. "First off, I thought it was important to reach out because allies are important."

That's a good place to start, right?

Alistair gifts her with a look that, for a moment, makes Leah wonder if she's been having a stroke and now all her words are pure gibberish. And then that thought is dashed when he sniffs and turns his nose up. "What do you need to reach out to me for?"

Oh, so it's like that. Despite his grumpy nature, Leah has the absurd thought that Alistair actually has a fun personality - or maybe she can just see how fun it would be to purposefully push his buttons. Fun for her, specifically.

She lifts her brows. "I can recognize my own people," she tells him.

"Your people?"

Leah grins, wide and shark-like. It's the smile she uses when she's about to make Seth's life hard just for the sake of it. "Aces, my friend." Then Leah pauses, thinking it over. "Or...aro, maybe? I don't know, you do you."

Alistair states at her with a hard look. "How do you know?"

"How can I not know?" she asks rhetorically. "We're basically the same person. Also, Bella said, sort of."

If possible, Alistair's expression gets even grumpier. "We are not the same. I'm not uncouth like you."

Leah snorts, loudly. "Oh, I'm so sorry, Your Highness. Do you find me rude?"

"Obviously."

"Well, you're not pocketful of sunshine, either," she tells him, amused at the way his stare turns incredibly droll.

"I don't intend to be," he says icily.

"Me either. It's overrated," Leah says. "It's also more proof we should stick together."

Now Alistair is rolling his eyes, sinking into a state of dismissiveness. "Oh, please do explain that logic."

Leah gestures broadly. "Look at our mutual friends, and then look at us," she says because she feels like this is really enough evidence to prove her point. "We're the only sane ones."

To her eyes, it looks like Alistair, in spite of himself, agrees with her. "You have a point."

Leah huffs. "Of course, I do," she says impatiently. "I always have a point. You'll learn that soon enough, buddy."

"Do not call me buddy," Alistair says frostily.

"Sure thing, pal."

Alistair sighs long-sufferingly. He rolls his eyes skyward and gets back around to the root of their discussion. "Why me? Why date me?"

"Well," Leah says at length. "You're kind of an asshole and I'm usually an asshole, so I figure we're a pretty good match. Plus, the whole ace thing. I don't know if I'm aromantic and I'm not going to make assumptions about you, but we could at least...hang out. Or something. Figure it out. Try to, like, actively be friends, at the very least."

Alistair doesn't look very convinced. Leah switches to a different tactic. She's not particularly fond of drawing up from her emotional reservoir, but she has a vested interest in getting what she thinks she wants right now. It's with a stark feeling of vulnerability that she lays it out for him, hoping that he would understand.

Hoping that he really is the same and that Bella's hunch was right.

"Aren't you kind of terrified of being alone?" she asks, voice a tad quieter than usual. "Dying alone, I mean? I may not want my bits to come into contact with anyone else's, but…"

There is - maybe miraculously - a sheen of understanding in Alistair's cold blue eyes. "But you want to not be alone."

"You get it."

Alistair looks down and away. 'I do." He lifts a brow, dragging back the mask of his haughty exterior. "I suppose I'm also your most convenient option?"

Leah shrugs. She lowkey hopes she knows where this conversation is heading now that there is a tinge of understanding between them. "Pretty much. Am I yours?"

"Likely, yes," he replies. "You, at least, understand my reservations."

That sounds vaguely positive to her ears. "So? Are you accepting?" she asks, irreverent. "Do you want to date me?"

Alistair studies her for a moment more. "You're quite bold, aren't you? I appreciate your candor, so for that, I'll give you the respect you deserve and answer honestly."

And then Alistair, the utter asshole, pauses. It's possible he's gathering his thoughts, but Leah has an inkling that he's drawing it out on purpose as a sort of payback for being daring enough to propose the idea in the first place. She has the inkling because it's something she would do. She wasn't joking about them being similar.

Leah will never, ever admit that she waits with bated breath or that she appreciates the sort of soothing cadence of Alistair's voice. Still, just because she won't admit to either thing, doesn't mean they aren't true.

"I will not make any promises," Alistair says finally. "But I would not be...entirely opposed to setting up a time to meet and assess our compatibility."

She bites the inside of her cheek to fight back a smile at his stiff delivery. "So, you will date me," she states, seeking clarification.

Alistair grimaces. "I wouldn't put it that way, but essentially yes." He takes a deep breath, then holds his hand out in a hand-shake, like they're really making a deal. It's kind of adorable, in an uptight sort of way. "Let's date."

Leah reaches out and shakes his hand. His is broader than hers but softer. She has the strange thought that this is the first time she is actually touching someone who she could actually spend her life with, without all the weird pressures that come from dating people who aren't like she is. Who isn't like he is.

Leah grins at him, unfettered. "Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship," she quotes.

Alistair's expression twists. "Who's Louis?"

Her eyes widen. "My God, you've been so deprived. I know what we're doing for our first hang out, or whatever. You need a film education."

Alistair hmphs at her, but he doesn't disagree.

It's a start.

A/N: Just nudging the plot along and tying in those futuretakes! Also, sisters of the heart are the best. I kind of adore the Bella-Leah dynamic. And now the Leah-Alistair dynamic!

A very important note about asexual relationships - asexual people are completely capable of having romantic relationships, as sex does not equal love. Asexuals also do not have to only date asexuals. There are in fact many asexual people who have romantic relationships with people who enjoy sex; whether or not sex is part of that relationship depends on each individual and where the asexual person falls on the scale of being willing to participate in sexual activity for the sake of pleasing their partner. This is a huge reason why sexual orientation is on a scale, because every person experiences sexual and romantic attraction differently. It's just as common for asexuals to date each other as it is for asexuals to date sexuals; it's just as common for asexuals to refrain from all sexual activity as it is for them to engage in sexual acts with their partner, including both one-sided and mutual sexual acts. It all really depends on the person. If you have further questions about asexuality and interpersonal relationships, please visit websites such as:

For Leah and Alistair, it's safe to assume that neither of them are interested in sex, full stop. Whether they will have an emotionally romantic relationship or whether it will be a very close friendship based on platonic love is still up in the air. I'm probably not going to give a hardline answer on this, so just choose your own ending on that score.

We are now 19 days out from the election, here. If you don't have a voting plan yet, make one; if you want to vote, take advantage of early voting or get your ballot directly to a ballot drop-box. I know this may be difficult in some states, so think about helping your neighbors or taking ballots to the drop-box in bundles if your state is one where the drop-boxes have been limited. If you're still waiting on your mail-in ballot, give your state election board a call ASAP to see what's going on and when you can expect one. And again, be sure to follow the ballot directions exactly; ballot goes into the secrecy envelope, the secrecy envelope goes into the mailing envelope, and your signature, date, and witness if necessary goes on the mailing envelope.

Don't even ask me about the other things. I'm too angry to talk about it. But, you know by now what my thoughts are, right? The outrage should go unsaid at this point.

As always, be brutally honest. I can take it. Stay safe, stay healthy, and stay inside. You'll be seeing virus cases going up now that people are staying inside more, but if you stay vigilant by limiting your public exposure, wearing your mask, and washing your hands, you should be able to stay safe and healthy. Listen to the science. We're going to get through this. I know it doesn't feel like we're going to get through this, but we will. Humans are exceptionally resilient.

~Rae