Author's Note: There's no incest in this one. Just a reference to what happened last chapter and Trixie/Veronica again. Happy?

Please read and review. I really need those reviews after that supervised meeting at my house…Hmph, the government.

Disclaimer: I own my attitude and my hatred towards a certain four lettered abbreviated government affiliate, but nothing more. Damn.

Chapter Twenty-Three: News You'd Rather Not Hear

"Now that we've told the school, there's really no one left, right?" Trixie inquires hopefully. Veronica fixes her with a queer look, swiftly shaking her head. Loath as she is to harm her girlfriend further, this is a necessary step. It's the last step, essentially, and, of course, she knows Trixie's completely opposed to the idea.

"Our parents," Veronica sighs, sitting on her lap, but shifting sideways so she can run her hands through her hair and kiss her on the cheek. At the moment, they sit, alone, on a loveseat in Veronica's living room. In due time, about ten minutes, her mother will be home and she'll have to tell her.

She doesn't want to, because she too is afraid of what will happen. Even if she's closer to her mother than Trixie is to hers, it doesn't mean she won't reject her afterwards. Many parents, especially the ostentatious ones, spurn offspring for their preferences.

Trixie shares this anxiety ten-fold. Her birth mother lost her fortune and her child due to a less damaging affair, and she knows her standing is not sound in her own family. Unless her father loves her more than he loved her mother, she won't be a Tang for much longer.

If only Veronica could exude self-confidence, that might help. But she knows she'll stammer and lean heavily on Trixie for support, because she can't think beyond this. She can't think, period.

In response to her statement, the raven-haired girl nods briefly, her mind clearly on other things. Memories cloud her vision- bringing Timmy home to meet her father and stepmother will look like a cakewalk after this. Her father nearly had a fit, screaming and ranting about her mother and how it'd been this that started everything. (She'd never met her birth mother and she strongly suspected her father had some sort of restraining order against her).

Now, though, bringing home Veronica, she'll be lucky if she has five minutes to pack her things before her father throws her out. If her mother lost everything due to a teenage pregnancy, then what can it possibly spell for her?

"Ver…" She breathes, kissing her on the cheek. As customary, her blue eyes widen, surprised at her good fortune. Now, if only her mother would agree with her in calling it that.

"Don't worry," the towheaded girl replies, lifting herself from her lap (Trixie scowls, fearful this indicates some sort of distancing) and sitting beside her. Arms wrapped firmly about her, she places her head on her shoulders and begins to stroke her hair. This tends to have a calming effect, at least, in times of panic.

Once again, Veronica wishes she had the inordinate amount of confidence she appears to have. Trixie holds the position as the rock in their relationship, but right now, she must be strong, or else she'll lose her head. Contradictory to what others might think, Trixie has always had a difficult time expressing herself. She relies on conventional things and so keeps her true self hidden beneath layers.

Wondering just what her girlfriend's thinking, Trixie smiles weakly, as if to try to allay her fears. Veronica, however, appears not to notice. Well, even if they don't share telepathy, they're of like mind and, if she knows her half as well as she thinks she does, she's anxious about telling her mother (who will, by proxy, inform her father).

Kissing her tenderly on the lips, she buries a hand in her hair, bringing it up to her face to inhale the scent. Fragrant apple fills her nostrils and she can't help but grin, associating the scent with what she'd like to do to her right now, if she had the chance. Then again, maybe she will….

Veronica, puzzled by the grin but supposing it to be because of their kiss, smiles in return, kissing her back passionately. Surges of adrenaline charge through her veins- being with Trixie is like having a constant rush. And kissing her, making love to her, it's euphoria. She lost her position in school to have the chance of a lifetime…

Enthused about the ideas zipping through her mind, Trixie deepens the kiss, tracing her tongue along her lips. Veronica has the same idea and their tongues meet, playing on the surface until the towheaded girl opens her mouth for her. There Trixie tastes her mouth, pressing her as closely as she can to her and enjoying the feel of her body against her.

Needless to say, they're oblivious to anything that might be transpiring behind them. Mrs. Masters, after a long, exhausting day of work, has come home early, unlocking the front door just as her daughter and her girlfriend begin to french. Her mind, befuddled by work conundrums, barely registers to take in the mail.

The silence, broken only by panting, fills her with awe, so she tiptoes to the foyer and into the living room. Her eyes widen in disbelief, but she says not a word, watching them. It was bound to happen sooner or later…I knew that Veronica's obsession was unhealthy, especially for a teenager.

"Am I interrupting?" She calls, a wry smile on her face. Folding her arms across her chest, she greets them as if nothing out of the ordinary happens.

"Hello, Trixie. Hello, Veronica."

Taken aback and stunned anyone could walk in, they shamefully separate, their faces crimson. Veronica in particular looks ashamed, eyes downcast. Damn, this was not how I wanted her to find out!

"Mom…" She sighs, gazing at the verdant purple carpet. I can't think of anything else to say! Words of witticism, where are you now?

To her astonishment, her mother selects a seat in between the girls and chuckles dryly. If it were possible, her anxiety has increased ten-fold. What's with the smile and chuckle? It's so unnerving…

"Sweetie, you've never brought home a boy or even mentioned one since fifth grade. You obsess over your best friend and have sketchbooks full of her alone. And when you said you loved her, I had the sense you didn't mean 'familial love', either.

"I may be a parent, but I'm neither stupid nor naïve. I figured out what you were before you did, but I was just waiting until you were comfortable to tell me," Mrs. Masters finished, gazing at her daughter. Although I'd have preferred not to walk in on that…

"You…you know?" Gulping, she yearns to reach for Trixie to lend support, but she can't through her mother. This was the purpose of her sitting here, to prevent them from interacting. If she can't stand on her own two feet in front of her mother, she's going to have one hell of a time doing it in front of the world.

"You know that I'm-" Veronica begins, but her mother interjects.

"A lesbian, yes." Sighing heavily, she rises. "I didn't want to believe it at first, but as time went on, I had no choice.

"You're my daughter and blood, my dear, is thicker than water. I love you and I can't turn my back on you just because I won't have a grandchild, that isn't fair to either of us.

"I only want what's best for you and if this makes you happy…" She pauses, biting her lip. Eyes glued, they gaze at her. Veronica looks like she's been slapped in the face, her jaw hanging slightly agape.

She had no idea how much I knew about her, did she? If this makes her happy, though…and as long as Trixie treats her right, because if she doesn't…

Smiling weakly, Mrs. Masters places a hand on each of their shoulders and ensures both hold eye contact with her. Finally, Trixie's eyes meet hers, but the raven haired girl's are full of sorrow and panic. Poor girl…the Tang and the Montgomery families never did deal with scandals well.

"I give you my blessing…but please, next time, be sure you're alone." Removing her hands, she recovers the mail and walks, head again befuddled, into the kitchen.

Veronica exhales sharply and glances at Trixie. "One set down."

"One less Tang to go."

-----

"I love you," Tootie breathes in his ear, kissing it affectionately. Of course, she doesn't just love his ear, she loves everything about him, but, for now, his ear will do. She honestly can't repay him for all the things he's done for her recently, even though she's sure as hell going to try. She'll do anything to make him happy, anything.

But isn't it this philosophy that nearly had her as Vicky's puppet? Although, truth be told, she wasn't in the same exact situation with her as she is with him.

Timmy turns crimson, glancing immediately towards the door, where A.J. still stands. He knows he's there for an important reason, otherwise he'd tell him to vamoose. This is something he'd like his support on, because he's fairly certain Tootie's going to go through the roof.

Smiling wearily, he sits on the chair beside the bed and clutches her hand. Fortunately, Timmy understands this gesture not to be encroaching but tranquilizing and permits it. She's going to need all the comfort she can get…

"Tootie," A.J. begins, inhaling deeply and glancing at Timmy ardently, "we're pressing charges against your parents,as well as Vicky and Ricky. Child endangerment, child neglect, and child abuse against your parents, for making the decisions that led to Vicky's guardianship of you and anything prior to that. Ricky and Vicky are also being charged with child molestation, for what just happened and anything you might not be telling us, which Timmy strongly suspects transpired."

He awaits her reaction, hoping she won't be as adamant as he predicted she would be. She has the right to an attorney, to free herself of Vicky's burden and to try to live a happy life, but she may not see it that way…

"What?!" Tootie cries, removing her hand from his so sharply, she slams it down on the bed. In the same sweeping action, she shoves Timmy unceremoniously off the bed, causing him to land, quite painfully, on his tail bone. Neither of these does she care about, however.

Overexcited and overexerted, she pants and clenches her eyes shut tightly. Way too much has occurred today and she simply lacks the energy to compensate. Going through a roller coaster of emotions and now this- she'd like a break, please!

"I'm sorry, but we have no choice. If Vicky can get you alone, like she just did, she'll either kill you or rape you. I don't trust (I never trusted her), and, personally, I think she belonged behind bars a long time ago," Timmy adds, using the bed to pry himself up. She slams a fist down on his knuckles and glowers at him.

"We're doing what's best for you, even if you don't view it as such," A.J. finishes, touching her face briefly before backing away to retrieve some food for Timmy and himself.

"Go with him," Tootie mutters dangerously. Her eyes are narrowed to slits and her arms are folded across her chest.

Timmy, taken aback, gawks at her. Why would she want him to leave her? Just before, she was clinging onto him for dear life…and he rather liked the feeling. Now, she won't even let him on the bed again.

"But if I do that, you'll be left alone again. You'll be vulnerable and Vicky might-" Timmy stammers, not comprehending why she wouldn't want him around.

"I think you ought to be a little less concerned about what she might do to me and a little more concerned about what I might do to you if you don't get the hell out of my sight right now! You and your friend can just get the hell out and don't come back!" She shrieks, on the verge of tears. Her reaction is actually a cover-up; their words have put her into a panic.

If she presses charges, that means she has to tell them everything Vicky and Ricky have put her through in the past few years. And she'd sooner die rather than tell a room of complete strangers this, now that she thinks about it, Ricky might have felt her up more than just that one time. Even if she knows in her heart of hearts it isn't right to shelter them, she isn't certain she can endure the pain associated with bringing back such memories. She wants it to be over, no matter how much her sister and her husband might be getting away with.

If she could, though, she'd yank the IV needle out of her arm just so she could shove him out the door. Maybe he doesn't realize this, but the charges are doing more harm than good.

I can't honestly believe he loves me…if he's trying to put me through all this…

"Tootie…we only did this because we love you…" Timmy trails off, noting that her hand is perched next to a hardbound book she might fling at him.

And I do love you…although now, if I told you this while you were in your coma, I'm not sure you'd be awake. Please don't hate me; I'm only trying to do what's right…Oh, Tootie…Timmy thinks, gazing at her. Perhaps she doesn't see the love in his eyes, or maybe, she's just ignoring it.

"Bullshit!" Tootie snaps, both to his eyes and his speech. "You don't love me! If you loved me, you wouldn't do this to me!"

An errant tear slips down her face and her body quakes with sobs. Feeling horrid, he approaches her, rushing to envelop her and press her against him. However, before he can, she picks up the aforementioned book and hurtles it, not at his head, but at his crotch. He barely manages to deflect it.

Nevertheless, he knows a cue to leave when he sees one. As much as he yearns to hold her, he knows right now she'd probably castrate him. So, he vacates the room, but his eyes remain glued to hers, filled to the brim with unshed tears.

Nearly shutting the door, he leans against it for a second, listening to her wail in misery. He sighs heavily and begins to walk away, feeling as though, even if he's done the right thing, it isn't as right as he previously thought.

I do love you…and I'm sorry if you think I'm hurting you…but Vicky can't exercise this much power over you ever again.

I want you to be happy…and with Vicky roaming free, that's never going to be complete…

Instead of visiting the cafeteria, he calls the one person he swore he'd never speak to again, and waits for the phone to ring.