Deborah sighed heavily, staring at the same blank page she'd been looking at for the past week now. Even though quitting her day job had been one of the most liberating moments in her life, it was as if leaving that world meant she left everything else behind as well. Wracking her brain, struggling to write music, it felt like she never got far, no matter how many pieces or drafts she started. Where had all her old skill gone?

The only silver lining was knowing that she didn't have to worry about finances. She had the Jekylls and Moultons. The Lavishes had not abandoned her either. She distanced herself from them after turning the family name back over to her mother, and rumors flew that she might be disowned after all she'd done, but never once did any of her family even think to do that. Not only would it create even more scandal, but the Lavishes were nothing if not loyal to contracts. They promised to look after one another, so they would, simple as that.

It wasn't just the main family contract either, but the sisters' pact as well. As such, even though it was never a question, Eleanor promised that if Deborah got disowned, when the day finally came for her to take the family name, she would invite Deborah back (if she hadn't figured out how to bring Deborah back into the fold sooner than that). Once again, Eleanor may have been the quieter sister, but she was no less dangerous, unpredictable, or prone to breaking the rules as she saw fit. She was not a rulebreaker by nature, but if there were any she thought were stupid…

So even though Deborah was living independently now, she could still call upon some of her old family resources, including money, even though it was limited as a form of punishment. But, she was willing to accept it. Slightly tighter strings on her purse was fair enough, she supposed. She even offered to serve jailtime as penitence, but her family hadn't wanted that, so they pulled some more strings.

Now, Deborah was just Deborah. Not Lavish, not criminal, not head of the house, not Enyo… She wasn't even the Dangerous Debutante anymore either. That woman was dead. She died the night Deborah stormed out of Vine and Vinyl Recording Studios for the last time. But it seemed as if her "death" had taken all of Deborah's musical skill with her.

Money may not have been a concern, but Deborah still wanted to write! That was the entire reason she quit her day job at all: so she could write what she wanted rather than what big business wanted. Now her mind was nothing but a blank space and she couldn't think of anything to fill it with. The irony was not lost on her.

"Ugghh," Deborah groaned into her hands, hunched over her desk. It was getting late, and she still didn't have a single note written down.

"Deborah, is everything ok?" And of course, Angela had to be there right at that moment, too, didn't she?

"Writer's block."

"Still?" Angela winced sympathetically.

"Still," Deborah nodded, sighing in frustration. She ran tired fingers through her hair. "What's wrong with me? Have I lost my edge?"

"Oh, Deborah, nothing is wrong with you!" Angela approached the singer and hugged her from behind. "It's just been such a stressful time that you haven't gotten back into the swing things! But don't be too hard on yourself, you haven't lost your edge or talent, you just need some time… I mean, I know you feel as if you've waited long enough, but please, be gentle with yourself!"

"Thank you, Angela," Deborah sighed leaning into the other woman's embrace, tipping her head back.

"Well, hey, no matter what happens next, I'll always think you're fantastic," Angela promised softy.

"My biggest fan," Deborah chuckled and shook her head.

"And so much more than just that," Angela kissed Deborah's forehead. Deborah's smile dry became genuine.

"My guardian angel," she sighed in agreement.

"Guardian?" Angela pulled back slightly, startled by such a powerful nickname.

"Only a guardian angel would be crazy enough to chase me to the very edge and drive me back home," Deborah smiled. Angela suddenly looked flustered and flattered, coaxing another chuckle from Deborah. "I mean it, Jekyll, you're my guardian angel, I'm certain of it."

"Well, then you're my Defender Deborah," Angela joked.

"What?" Deborah snorted.

"Well, I've always appreciated you, too, you know?" the doctor asked shyly. "When you'd always be so kind as to stand up for me or include me things, especially earlier on in our… relationship."

For just a moment, Angela stumbled, worrying that bringing up the past and comparing it to the present may open old wounds. Deborah, however, shook her head, assuaging Angela's fears. She understood, and she agreed.

"I've always been a bit protective," she admitted. "I'm not sure where it came from. There's probably a lot of things I could point it back to. I just know that, yes, I do like taking care of the people I love…" Angela was still hugging her from behind, so Deborah patted her hands.

They stayed that way for a while longer, seeking support from one another in silence. Deborah wasn't the only one out of work. Even though the three families managed to clear Angela's name and replace her lab, the scientific board was still very hesitant to allow her to experiment anymore. At least not without very stringent measures and monitors in place, which made working on a cure for Lola a bit tricky. Like Deborah's music, it was a work in progress that wasn't really working, or in progress. It wasn't writer's block, of course, but something similar. Sadly, in the same way Angela was powerless to help Deborah with her problem, Deborah was powerless to help Angela with her problem.

It was supposed to be like the good old days, two heads put together to solve one problem. Deborah enjoyed scheming and Angela enjoyed planning, and they were partners in crime again, but… They weren't partners in time. Much like Deborah, Angela felt as if the world had shifted ever since her own fall from grace. Even though, from what they could tell, the worst was over, now neither of them knew what to do. It was hard to describe in words, but Angela wasn't sure who she was anymore either.

She held Deborah tighter. Maybe she didn't know who she was, but she was going to relearn and rediscover. Or maybe, she'd even recreate, if that was what it took. But no matter what, she would have someone there with her the entire time. She wasn't sure who Deborah was either, but she felt as though she had a better grasp on the singer than herself. So then, Deborah will be my grounding point, my defender…

Little did she know, Deborah's mind was running a similar, but different, track. While Angela was thinking of the future, Deborah was thinking of the past. With both love and pain, she reflected on her past before and after Angela, and how their relationship in the past compared to now. In some ways, their love was doing better than it ever was. But in others, they almost felt like strangers. No, it wasn't strange, just… new…

ooo

Late in the night, long after Angela was asleep, Deborah was suddenly struck by it. Not inspiration, or at the very least, not in the way she used to be struck. She just… started thinking, started seeing patters, and from those patterns emerged… a story, a song…like flowing water…

"I loved you in secret. First sight, yeah, we loved without reason," she hummed the words to herself. Oh yes, in the beginning of their relationship, it had been very much a secret. Sometimes, it was one Deborah even kept from herself… But defying any and all forms of logic and reason, their love bloomed regardless, from that very first night on the boat… She'd been 20 and Angela 25. Oh, how were we to know…?

"My love had been frozen… Deep blue, but she painted me golden." That strange, wisp of a woman had literally come stumbling into her life, and somehow managed to also stumble her way into Deborah's heart, and help Deborah stumble out of a nightmare. That first night in the lab, when she finally said it… Oh, how Angela held her close and kissed her. This was long before Lola, but even in that moment, Deborah felt Angela's heat and passion. Oh, how was Deborah to know what would become of them from then on out…?

For a time, everything was beautiful. Gorgeous, even. Deborah could've spent forever with Angela's hands in her pockets, under her dress, between her sheets. There was a picture of her face in the invisible locket of gold resting right over Deborah's heart. How foolish and silly she used to feel, how like a giddy little schoolgirl because of how often she spent thinking about Angela, dreaming about her, doodling hearts in her music book. Angela Lavish and Deborah Jekyll. The first time Eleanor saw it, she jokingly remarked that if Deborah ever actually took Angela's last name, her initials would be DJ. Seemed as though music was always destined to tie them together, that was their red thread.

And for a time, that invisible string felt stronger than steel. You said there was nothing in the world that could stop it, but I had a bad feeling… Had the doubt always been there? Or was it something Deborah was only realizing in retrospect? She hadn't felt doubtful during the first run through their relationship, had she? Why couldn't she remember that? And had Angela ever felt that way…? Lola was a work in progress by then, so all along, something had been rumbling just beneath the surface, even if neither of them could've ever known what would become of it.

So they proceeded, bold and cautious, young and reckless, old and wary, all at the same time, heartbreakers and heartbroken. They'd turned beds into sacred oases only they could visit, across seas and sheets only they could sail, onto sandy beaches touched by golden sun that marked their own personal paradise. Nobody else could touch these shores, nobody else would ever walk those surfs except for them.

But people tried. The secret island was found out. The media and public started talking, putting them through the paces. They were able to, for the most part, hide it, Deborah going in disguise to dive bars rather than public, fancy gatherings where a Lavish would be expected to frequent. She always worried that, one day, the tabloid life would finally overwhelm Angela and she run away screaming mad. There was no one in the world who could live a life like that. Not for long, at least. Even Deborah was struggling, and she'd been born for this kind of life.

But still, they danced. Even with their hands tied, bound by outside forces and enemies within, they danced. And every time felt exactly like the first. It was dangerous, but wasn't that all part of the fun? Nothing safe was worth the drive, so the only life worth living was one that thrilled, excited, delighted, dismayed, and destroyed. A dangerous life for a Dangerous Debutante. Even from the very beginning, she'd had a bad feeling about this, but on she danced with Angela, their hands tied together, bound by invisible string.

Then Deborah's mind shifted to the present. It was funny, even though she felt like someone living an entirely different life, she found herself walking down the exact same road she had the first time she felt any fear about, or for, Angela Jekyll.

I loved you in spite of deep fears that the world would divide us, so baby, can we dance through an avalanche?

"Dance with me again, Angela! It's been far too long and I've been far too lonely and scared without you with me." After trying to be brave for so long, didn't she deserve another dance? They'd weathered enough, she could even dance through a storm, so long as it was with Angela.

And truly, any dance would indeed feel like an avalanche, cold and ever-shifting. They had to be careful not to fall through and freeze to death, or be buried alive. Deborah's mobility was still shaky. She no longer needed crutches, but walking without them was tenuous, at best. And Angela, although this was a tad more embarrassing to admit, also felt unable to rekindle a full romance with Deborah, though she wanted to.

As they'd come to learn, Lola Hyde was triggered whenever Angela felt aroused. Enyo, meanwhile, was triggered by Lola. Love and war. Aphrodite and "Ares". A match made in Heaven and Hell. All was going to happen in both love and war. Oh, what a mess they were and what a mess they made! But it was exactly the mess that they wanted…

"Oh, 'cause it's gravity, feeling you near me." You should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong.

For the first time that night since Angela went to bed, Deborah smiled. There it was! The red thread! The piece of clarity cutting through the confusion. She was still so deeply drawn to the doctor, even if everything else felt shifted from their dangerous dances. That's what it was. An attraction. Not just of the sexual or romantic kind, but something deeper and stronger, albeit harder to name. But call it what you want, all Deborah knew was that she wanted Angela with her. Then Deborah's song turned towards the future.

"I'd kiss you as the lights went out, swaying as the room burned down…" In her head, she saw another scene, the entire world on fire from the chaos of press and reputation, but Angela and Deborah stood in the burning, bleeding heart, embracing one another, shielding one another. The guardian angel and her defender, immune to the flames, protecting one another even in the face of death and destruction and danger.

I'd hold you as the water rushes in!
The tears, the screaming and crying. If fire didn't work and the world sent a perfect storm, Deborah would still try her best to hold onto Angela.

"If I could just dance with you again…" she sighed, pleading, powerful and passionate. A sudden image flashed through her mind, the night on the boat when she'd given Angela a piggyback ride. She'd felt damn foolish the next day, once her sobriety returned, but now she hoped that, someday, she would be strong enough to do it again, to hold Angela close and carry her away from all the madness and drama and pain.

One of her hands subconsciously drifted to her legs as she thought about Lola. A dull rush of anger, like fire, rose up in her chest.

Why does she have to keep ruining everything?! Even when the worst was over, Deborah still had to hold back. Until Angela could get the Lola thing sorted, she didn't want to even attempt anything too… affectionate. Deborah understood that, but she was getting lonely too.

"I'd hold you through anything and everything. Even Lola, if I must wait her out. If I could just… dance with you again!" Hopefully, someday…

"I'd kiss you as the lights went out, dancing as the room burned down, I'd hold you as the water rushes in…" And they would dance just like the first time, with their hands still tied, now by fire and water, Lola/Enyo and the public, inside and out. Maybe it was good their relationship had always been a little dangerous. They knew how to navigate these treacherous waters, so hopefully they would find their way back to their island paradise soon. It's a mess, but, it's that mess that we wanted.

Then suddenly, Deborah did get a burst of inspiration. A realization. A memory. When Lola spoke to her in the hospital, in her fury, Deborah made sure to make it clear that she much preferred Lola's tinier half. Although Angela would remember none of it, she would remember how smooth the transformation back into herself was.

"Usually, turning back hurts. It feels bad on a physical and emotional level, but I don't remember feeling any sort of pain that time…"

Did… Did… Did I… call her back?

Angela was the one who saved Deborah from her writer's block, suddenly inspiring her to compose this song about their relationship. Maybe Deborah had a way to save Angela, and maybe it also only required a simple glimpse into the past, like it was the first time. All Deborah had to do was call her name and everything would just stop… Yes… Yes! That was it! Now, it seemed so obvious!

The reason they'd both been stuck was because they were spending too much time thinking about other people rather than looking within. But the moment Deborah started writing from the heart, the music flowed. That was why she'd quit her day job to begin with! Because writing the music other people wanted her to just didn't work as well as writing things that were relevant to her and her life!

And the moment I spoke to her, to Lola and Angela, from the heart…

"I'd kiss you as the lights went out, dancing as the room burned down, I'd hold you as the doubt comes rushing in… If I could dance with you again!" It was risky business, a crazy idea, but then again, maybe that's why they were perfect for each other. After all, they both were crazy enough to drink the potion the first time around, and then crazy enough to chase around town in getaway cars. Angela was Deborah's perfect type of crazy. And maybe crazy would be the solution again. We're a mess, but, it's the mess that we wanted.

Nothing safe was worth the drive. If Deborah really wanted to dance with Angela again, was she willing to do this…? Yes. She would love Angela in spite of deep fears that the world, both external and internal, would divide them.

"And we'll be dancing with our hands tied, like it was the first time. Yeah, I have a bad feeling, but we were dancing, dancing with our hands tied."

They would find their way through the darkness, Deborah was sure of it. Using the invisible string, they would find one another, and then they would find an escape. They would tie their hands together, united against the world. The red thread of fate managed to get them through thick and thin so far, so why would Deborah's confidence wane now? As she felt her heart swell with courage, the music swelled in her ears. Nobody in all the world would be able to drown out the song. Not the press, not Lola and Enyo, not Deborah's own family.

All she could hear was the endless refrain of her devotion to Angela. I had a bad feeling, but, we were dancing, even with our hearts tied!