Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows Chapter 7: The Outing Part I, a guiding light fanfic

Title: Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows

Author: Kimberly21570

Fandom: Guiding Light

Pairing: Olivia and Natalia

Disclaimers and Other Assorted Ramblings: The characters of Olivia and Emma Spencer, Natalia Rivera, Shayne Lewis, Dinah and Blake Marler, Gus "Nicky" Aitoro, Hart Jessup, and Jane the nanny are owned by Guiding Light, CBS/TeleNext and Proctor & Gamble. SpongeBob SquarePants is the property of Nicktoons Productions and United Plankton Pictures. Rights to the movie Pretty Woman are owned by Touchstone Pictures. No copyright infringement intended with regard to GL, CBS/TeleNext, Proctor & Gamble, Touchstone Pictures, Nicktoons Productions, United Plankton Pictures, or any other entity.

Chapter 7 is a chronology of Olivia and Natalia's first official date, as well as the events and conversations leading up to it. Some of these events and conversations are told via flashback. I have endeavored to make it clear when the story is shifting from present to past and back again, so I hope that aspect is easy to follow. The chapter will be presented in four individual updates over the course of several weeks, which will allow me to provide you all with regular updates throughout the course of my semester. The dialogue in this chapter is original. Written for fun, not profit. All other standard disclaimers apply.

Finally, a special thanks to my fan fiction friend Double O Guest (guestOO) for the opening quote for this chapter. I love it, my friend. Thank you for sharing it with me! And, as always, thank you all for reading. I hope you continue to enjoy…

Rating: Chapter 7.1 is rated PG-13 for some mild language and sexual innuendo, but subsequent chapters will include NC-17 material.

Confessions Lead to Strange Bedfellows

"Need-love cries to God from our poverty; Gift-love longs to serve, or even to suffer for, God; Appreciative love says: "We give thanks to Thee for Thy great glory." Need-love says of a woman "I cannot live without her"; Gift-love longs to give her happiness, comfort, protection—if possible, wealth; Appreciative love gazes and holds its breath and is silent, rejoices that such a wonder should exist even if not for him, will not be wholly dejected by losing her, would rather have it so than never to have seen her at all."

C. S. Lewis; from The Four Loves

Chapter 7.1 – The Outing | Anticipation:

"Well, if you won't tell me where we're going, then how am I supposed to know how to dress?" Natalia's whine made her sound like a petulant child. Olivia found it completely adorable, which only confirmed what she already knew—she was completely, hopelessly in love, and this woman owned her, body, soul, and spirit. She sighed contentedly, as her eyes locked with Natalia's.

After a busy morning at the Beacon—where their meeting with the finance committee had gone off without a hitch, they elected to go shopping together for a new bedroom suite that afternoon, before picking Emma up from school and heading home early. It had been a crazy day, and now they were unwinding, getting ready for their first official date.

A slow grin crept across Olivia's lips. "Would you like a little cheese with that whine?" she teased. She knew how completely cliché the comment was, but still, it was funny, and it garnered exactly the response she had anticipated.

"Oh, shut up—," Natalia protested; gently slapping Olivia's arm, "and tell me what I'm supposed to wear…"

Olivia considered the vast array of plans she had for their evening, and decided upon the most appropriate attire. "Tonight is… dressy casual…" she announced, with the firm nodding of her head.

"Now, what does that mean?" Natalia sighed; rolling those dark, expressive eyes. "Sounds like an oxymoron to me," she harrumphed.

Olivia chuckled softly, and slipped her fingers through the belt loops of Natalia's comfy, well-worn jeans—the ones with the frayed bottoms and the tiny patch worn through on the upper left thigh. Pulling the younger woman close against her body, her only thought was, God, you look delectable in these jeans. She was always hard-pressed to decide whether Natalia looked sexier in one of her power suits, or in her comfy old jeans and a t-shirt. Right now, Olivia was rather partial to the latter.

She couldn't resist playing with Natalia a little. "What it means is that you should get your sweet… sexy… Latina… ass…" she purred; punctuating each word with a wet kiss, complete with a touch of tongue, as she smoothed her hands over Natalia's ass, "upstairs, and put on a pair of nice… form-fitting… jeans… and a sexy… low-cut… blouse…" she continued with similar punctuation, "and finish off the ensemble with a pair of semi-dressy boots," she finished; culminating her wardrobe tutelage with the claiming of Natalia's mouth in a slower version of the kisses she had recently bestowed upon the woman in her arms.

Those probing hands on her ass felt divine, and Natalia groaned into their kiss. "You think my ass is sexy?"

"Oh, sweet Jesus—Yes!" Olivia growled against Natalia's mouth, as she deepened their kiss.

"Was that you, praying for salvation?" Natalia murmured into Olivia's mouth.

"Well, somebody better save me, before I lose myself completely in you," Olivia grinned.

"I think it's too late for both of us," Natalia asserted; melting into more of Olivia's absorbing kisses.

"Mmmm… but what a way to go…" Olivia moaned; slowly maneuvering Natalia toward the stairs. "But—," she said, planting one more firm kiss on those lips, "if you don't get a move on it, neither of us will be going anywhere. So go! Get dressed. We have a spectacular night awaiting us."

"Okay, okay! I'm going! Jeez, you're bossy." Natalia feigned disgruntlement; but her soft laugh gave her away.

"Well, I am the Boss, ya know," Olivia said self-importantly.

"Only at work," Natalia challenged, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "And only in front of the other employees…" It was a fact, and they both knew it.

And with that, Natalia swaggered up the stairs, knowing full-well Olivia was standing there with her mouth open, having not one single thing she could say to argue.

Lingering behind in the living room, Olivia made a few last minute calls to ensure things were arranged as she had requested. Then, finally satisfied, her heart pounded with excitement, as she bounded up the stairs, two at a time. God, she felt like a teenager—or at least what she thought a teenager felt like, getting ready for a first date. No matter, what she felt was mishmash of giddy, and nervous, and excited, and a thousand other feelings she couldn't put into words—and all of it together added up to a feeling of happiness that transcended anything she ever thought possible.

Reaching her bedroom, she quickly set about getting ready for their evening. She promptly pulled the necessary items of clothing and accessories from their respective drawers and hangers. And having decided what she was wearing almost as soon as their date had been set, her thoughts were free to wander back to their afternoon shopping spree, as she showered and dressed for their evening…

While admittedly, Olivia had a penchant for the more contemporary in terms of décor, when it came to furniture, especially bedroom furniture, trendy wasn't really her style. Instead, she preferred something lasting; something of real value. With that in mind, she had long-since done her research with regard to the availability of fine furnishings in the greater Springfield area; and Heirloom Furnishings had been deemed the premiere place for acquiring hand-crafted, solid-wood pieces. In fact, it was the place where she had purchased her current bedroom set, when she first arrived in Springfield nearly a decade prior, as well as everything for Emma, from her nursery furniture to the "big girl" bedroom furnishings she had in her room at the farmhouse.

Natalia's heart had pounded at first sight of the building, and she nearly stroked out upon entrance. Clearly this place was a vessel for extravagance. Even the name reeked of opulence. Her eyes darted around nervously, taking it all in, even as Olivia tried to calm her.

"Couldn't we just go to that discount furniture outlet over on Ash Street?" Natalia asked edgily.

Olivia's soft laugh answered her question. "I don't intend to spend the rest of my life sleeping on a futon, Sweetheart."

"I didn't say anything about a futon, Olivia," Natalia said crossly. "I just think this place is a little out of my league."

"I'm not trying to sound elitist, Natalia," Olivia defended. "I just don't believe in buying cheap crap."

"Are you calling my furniture crap?" Natalia sounded indignant.

"Of course not," Olivia denied. That really wasn't what she'd meant at all. "Do you really want to argue about this?"

"No—," Natalia sighed. She sounded defeated. "What I really want is for you to listen to me when I talk about how much money I don't have."

Olivia turned to her, gently placing her hands on Natalia's biceps. "Please don't worry about the money, Natalia. I don't care how much you do or don't have in the bank on any given day. You earn more than enough at the Beacon to cover your bills, with enough extra to splurge once in a while," she reasoned, making certain to stress the fact that her salary was earned as an employee of the hotel, and not received directly from the hotelier.

"Oh, yeah?" Natalia challenged. "Then why do I need you to pay rent to help me cover the mortgage?"

Locking her gaze on Natalia's, Olivia said pointedly, "You don't, and we both know it." She grinned mischievously then, "I think you were just looking for an excuse to get me to move in with you."

Natalia grinned sheepishly. She knew she was busted, but she said nothing.

"Thought so," Olivia said, satisfied that she had been correct all along.

"But how could you possibly know I didn't need your help?" Natalia asked, baffled.

Olivia gave her a pointed look—the one that said, "Seriously?"

Natalia laughed. "I know, I know." She didn't have to say exactly what she knew.

"I know how much you earn, Natalia, and it wasn't that difficult to calculate the mortgage payment, given the known variables. And you know I reviewed your credit report before I hired you, so I know you don't have a car payment, or a shit-load of debt hanging over your head—at least not anymore," Olivia answered, not unkindly. "Honestly, given the wages you must've been earning while raising Rafe, I was impressed at how low your debt ratio was—I would've guessed it much higher."

"That was before Rafe got into trouble," Natalia said, chagrinned.

"I understand that," Olivia said softly, "but Rafe's attorney's fees have been paid-in-full, so you're not struggling there anymore."

"Thanks to you," Natalia acknowledged gratefully.

"I was glad to do that for you, Natalia," Olivia assured.

"I know you were, and I'm very thankful for it," Natalia said appreciatively.

"I know you are." Olivia's voice was calm and reassuring. "And things are different now. I'm not just your roommate anymore, so the way I see it, I should be paying at least half of everything moving forward. Probably more, because Emma is my responsibility," she reasoned.

"But I don't mind sharing responsibility for her," Natalia protested. "I enjoy knowing that I contribute to the things she needs."

Olivia smiled at the admission. "Then how can you deny me the same enjoyment when it comes to you?"

Natalia knew she'd been had. How was she to argue with such logic?

"Money doesn't have to be an issue with us, unless we make it one," Olivia said softly. Her eyes were warm and filled with understanding as she spoke. She knew Natalia didn't want to take things from her; but in Olivia's mind, there was a vast difference between Natalia taking, and Olivia giving. And Olivia wanted nothing more than to give to Natalia, anything her heart desired.

Before Natalia could render a response, a dapper young salesman approached them, offering his assistance. He knew upon sight who Olivia Spencer was, and exactly what the hotelier's presence there could mean to him in terms of commission. His neophyte enthusiasm made him eager to please, and he hadn't taken time to assess the situation before interrupting.

Olivia furnished him with a tight smile, none too pleased that he hadn't picked up on their social cues. As curtly as she could without being overtly rude, she requested that he give them a moment. He picked up quickly then. Lowering his grayish-blue eyes, he begged her pardon, and stepped away; leaving them to their discussion. And within moments, a distinguished older gentleman whom Olivia knew, from previous dealings, to be the young man's father, was patiently tutoring him in the fine art of catering to the predilections of the wealthy without being pushy or obtrusive.

She turned her attention to Natalia. "Look," she began calmly, those damnable jade eyes working their magic, "the quality of the workmanship here is unsurpassed, Natalia. I mean, you've seen the bedroom set I have now—the one that I'll pass down to Emma when she gets a little older," she touted, attempting to sell her argument. "Why spend a few thousand on something that will only last a decade—if we're lucky—when we can spend a little more and having something that will last our entire lifetime, and even longer?"

Natalia just stared at her. All of her furniture combined, save the bedroom set that once belonged to Gus's mother, didn't amount to more than a few thousand dollars. And the thought of spending more than that on just one room nearly made her nauseous. Regardless, though, Olivia's argument made perfect sense. Damn it! She hated it when that happened; but still, she could find no reasonable means of countering that didn't involve pointing out, once again, the vast differences between their socioeconomic statuses.

"I'll even let you pick the style and finish," Olivia smiled, sweetening the deal.

Charmed, Natalia finally relented. "Okay," she nodded, "but you have to promise we won't break the bank," she bargained.

"Promise." Olivia grinned triumphantly, and then kissed Natalia thoroughly.

Within minutes, they were chatting with the still-apologetic salesman about suitable styles for the farmhouse—ones that would enhance the rustic essence of their home, without compromising the sense of elegance that Natalia knew Olivia preferred.

Olivia gave strict instructions to the salesman—Ryan was his name—that no discussion of cost was to take place until their selections had been made. She wanted Natalia to choose what truly appealed to her, without fretting over money. Natalia protested, of course, but Olivia's argument won out—after all, Olivia couldn't be accused of overindulgence, if she didn't know the cost up-front, now could she?

After much perusing, squabbling, and finally rational discussion, they settled on an elegant king-sized four-poster bed of Alder hardwood in a warm chestnut finish, with scalloped edges and beautifully turned posts, and matching hand-carved inlays in both the head and footboards, as well as in the center drawers of the six-drawer pedestal. The matching pieces included two night stands with built-in power outlets for tableside lamps, alarm clocks, and other accessories—Natalia, of course, arguing that such an amenity was completely unwarranted.

"You said I could have whatever I wanted," Natalia reminded, keeping her voice low.

"Yes, I did," Olivia easily conceded. "And do you see any others you like better?"

"Well, No—," Natalia answered weakly. She knew Olivia had a point—she really did like the design better than any of the others. "But you agreed we wouldn't break the bank."

"I have an insanely big bank," Olivia grinned.

"Olivia!" Natalia sighed.

"Hey, I don't know how much these are." Olivia feigned ignorance. It didn't work.

"Really, Olivia?" Natalia said, calling her on her crap.

"Well, I don't!"

"Well, you certainly do know that they're premium pieces," Natalia argued. "They're from the Masterpiece Collection, for heaven's sake!"

Okay, being funny failed; and feigned ignorance wasn't working—she'd try the health card. "Would you prefer that I have to move this big, heavy bed every time I need to charge my cell phone or plug in my laptop?" she argued.

"I would prefer that you not bring your cell phone and laptop to bed," Natalia countered, fixing Olivia with a pointed expression that told her they would have plenty more interesting things to do in that bed.

"You know I work late at night."

"You can work down in the study," Natalia contended. "That's why it's there."

"But I like to work in bed," Olivia bickered.

"Not with me you won't," Natalia warned. "The only work I want you doing in my bed, is me," she grinned; feeling rather proud of herself.

Ryan's face flushed so deeply his ears turned red. He straightened an imaginary piece of his perfectly coifed blond hair, cleared his throat, and tried to pretend he wasn't listening.

Olivia arched an eyebrow. Sometimes Natalia really surprised her—not that she was complaining. "That won't be work, Sweetheart, it'll be pleasure," she smiled, drawing a blush from Natalia. She waged her next argument. "My cell phone is my alarm clock."

"I'll wake you up," Natalia countered, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

That response was met with a groan—an intriguing amalgam of sexual tension, seasoned with slight irritation over slowly losing this argument. She wasn't giving up on what she wanted, though—and what she wanted were the fancy nightstands. They had the neatest little pull-out trays—the perfect place for glasses of wine or champagne, and strawberries and whipped cream—oh, the possibilities were endless. Thinking fast on her feet, she leaned over, whispering in Natalia's ear.

Natalia blushed profusely, contemplated for about a nanosecond, giggled adorably, then looked up, grinning at Ryan. "She can have her way on this one."

Olivia beamed triumphantly; but she didn't dare say a word.

Ryan hadn't a clue what the hotelier had said, but he sure as hell wished he did—and he would go to bed that night still thinking about it, too.

That argument settled, they continued building their ensemble, adding a quaint, cedar-lined hope chest for the foot of their bed, a remote-controlled media lift console with glass front panels to house the plasma television from Olivia's bedroom, a twelve-drawer chest, and a ten-drawer dresser with a stunning three-paneled wing mirror, complete with a hidden treasure case for jewelry and other valuables; both with cedar-lined drawers and matching hand-carved inlays.

Then they were off on their own, to canvass available mattress options—an experience that neither would soon forget. Olivia, being Olivia, insisted that they "try out" each of the mattresses; meaning several playful make-out sessions ensued. But it started out much more innocently than that, with a simple request that Natalia test the first mattress to assess her own comfort level. On the second mattress, there was a chaste kiss—stifled by Natalia's innate inhibitions. At the third one, chaste kisses led to a few not-so-chaste kisses, as those inhibitions began to slip away. And the fourth found Olivia coaxing Natalia's body onto her own. Research, Olivia called it—and Natalia's pesky inhibitions faded into oblivion. The waterbed mattress had been insanely fun. They didn't misbehave, of course—at least not too much, but there were a few well-placed kisses, the occasional soft moan, and a wandering hand here and there, which certainly made for some interesting entertainment for a few unsuspecting customers. Yet the sales staff said not a word as, unbeknownst to Natalia at the time, the formidable Ms. Spencer was about to spend an incredibly offensive amount of money in their store.

Sadly, though, after about the tenth mattress, their "testing" came to an abrupt end, when one of those unsuspecting customers turned out to be to an old gal-pal of Olivia's, who stood at the edge of the bed, staring at them in a befuddled state of curiosity.

"So… shall I just ignore this little scene, and walk away? Pretend I never saw it?" the satirical and slightly confused voice asked. "Or does somebody wanna fill me in on the scoop?"

Startled, Olivia jumped, effectively extracting her tongue from Natalia's mouth. "What? Huh? Oh, Jesus, Di, you scared the shit outta me!"

Dinah Marler laughed heartily, as she watched Olivia roll off of Natalia's prone body. "Well, this is certainly new," she smirked, eyeing the two of them in their rather compromising position. She brushed a handful of streaky-blonde hair from her eyes, as she waited for the hotelier's response.

Natalia buried her face in Olivia's chest, laughing, as Olivia scrambled to find her words. All-in-all, being buried in Olivia's ample cleavage wasn't a bad place to be, Natalia thought, as finally, Olivia recovered her voice.

"I—um—we—we're buying a bed," Olivia finally managed. So much for smooth articulation, Spencer, she silently chastised.

"Well, I rather assumed so," Dinah said, her tone rife with teasing sarcasm. "I wouldn't peg you for the type to bring a woman to a mattress store just for cheap thrills."

Olivia made a face at her.

Ahh… it was just like old times. Dinah ignored her, and turned her attention to the other party to this rather scandalous affair. "Speaking of… Hello, Natalia."

Natalia peeked at her from Olivia's cleavage. "Hi, Dinah," she said, almost sheepishly. "How are you?"

"Well, apparently, I'm not as good as you," Dinah teased.

Natalia laughed softly as she sat upright on the bed, moving directly into Olivia's arms. "Yeah, I'd have to say I'm feeling amazingly well right now. A little embarrassed, but well," she said amusingly, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.

"So, uh… how long has this been going on, Ollie?" Dinah asked; the waving of her finger between the two of them indicating exactly what "this" was referring to. She folded her arms across her chest, waiting...

"Ollie?" Natalia mouthed silently, as she glanced at Olivia. That was certainly new.

"You mean how long have we felt this way? Or… how long have we actually been doing something about it?" Olivia asked, seeking clarification.

"Both." Dinah's tone was up-front, as she sank down onto the bed next to them; settling in for what was sure to be a first-rate story. She was such a newshound at heart— unlike her stepmother, Blake, who was simply a meddlesome gossip.

"Well, we've been falling in love—," Olivia began.

"Since before Olivia's transplant," Natalia interjected, continuing Olivia's thought.

"Yeah," Olivia agreed, shrugging her shoulders, "but we didn't get real with ourselves—"

"Until last weekend," Natalia finished.

"Do the two of you do that often?" Dinah asked; eyebrows furrowed.

"Do what?" they said in unison.

"That." Dinah shook her head, as Olivia and Natalia glanced at one another, smiling.

Canting her head to one side, Dinah studied Olivia closely for a moment. "You're doing it, aren't you?"

Olivia's head shot up, and she fixed Dinah with a pointed stare. "That's rather personal, don't you think?"

"Why is that so personal?" Dinah was enjoying the edginess she'd created in the hotelier with her rather pointed choice of words. "It's not like we haven't talked about it before."

With a quick glance at Natalia, who was squirming edgily in her arms, Olivia arched an eyebrow, asking, "What exactly have we talked about before?"

"About doing the opposite of everything you've done in the past," Dinah said, feigning innocence. "What the hell did you think I was talking about?"

An audible sigh of relief swiftly exited Olivia's pent-up lungs. "That, uh—yeah, that's what I thought you were talking about," she fibbed, albeit unconvincingly. "And yes. Yes, I am. Or at least I'm trying."

"Oh, bullshit, Ollie." Dinah called her bluff. She studied the hotelier a little more carefully, noting the rising color in her cheeks. "Oh, my God," she blurted out, unable to hold the Cheshire grin from her lips, "You thought I was talking about sex."

Olivia felt like a teenager, caught having sex in her parent's bed. The color in her cheeks grew infinitely deeper, almost crimson, as she sat there in the middle of that pillow-top mattress with Natalia nestled firmly between her legs. Shit. She was never gonna hear the end of this now.

"You did, didn't you?" Dinah pressed.

Olivia turned ashen. No matter how she interpreted that question, she was trapped in an unwanted conversation.

"You thought I was talking about sex," Dinah was saying. Oh, this was just too delicious. "Well have you? Had sex, I mean?"

An eyebrow arched. "Look who you're talking to here," Olivia said, skirting the direct question.

Dinah wasn't deterred. "I meant with each other, Smartass."

Natalia heard all that Dinah was saying, but her mind was still stuck on the woman's previous comment, and she couldn't help the smile that played on her lips—Olivia really had vowed to do everything differently the next time she fell in love. Not only that, but she actually meant it. It wasn't that she hadn't believed Olivia, but there was something about having such confirmation from another person that made her feel more secure than she ever would've expected. "Olivia?" she beckoned, insistently tugging the hotelier's sleeve to garner her attention. She was so proud of her for working so hard at doing it differently.

"Uh… Yeah, Sweetheart," Olivia replied distractedly, as she glared at Dinah for placing her in such a precarious position.

"I need to kiss you," Natalia said urgently.

Olivia shook her head, not certain she'd really heard Natalia correctly. "What?" she said; fixing Natalia with an expression that said she was feeling dazed and more than a little confused.

"You really meant it," Natalia said, "about doing everything differently with me."

"Yes, of course, I did." Olivia's confused visage adopted a smile.

"Then I really need to kiss you right now." The urgency in her voice amplified.

Silently, Dinah watched their exchange, baffled by the intricacies of their interactions.

Before Olivia could demur, Natalia's mouth was on hers, kissing her passionately.

"Jesus Christ!" Dinah mumbled. No one since Hart had kissed her with such unfettered passion. It made her long for him, despite all the tortured circumstances of their shared past, and even despite his death, and the passage of time. Yes, she was falling in love with Shayne—he was such a good man, much like his father; but no man had ever held her heart the way Hart Jessup had, and no man ever would. She realized then, that no matter how tragically things may end, you never get over losing the love of your life. It was simply too much for her. "I—um—I'm sorry, Olllie," she blundered, her voice saturated with emotion.

Breaking from Natalia's kiss at the intensity in Dinah's voice, Olivia glanced at her friend. The inevitable question was written on her face.

"I—uh—I have to go," Dinah mumbled; hazel eyes brimming with tears. And with that, she broke into a run.

Jumping up from the bed, Olivia gave chase, quickly catching up with her. She grabbed her arm, halting her escape. "Dinah, what's wrong?" she asked, concerned.

"It's nothing," Dinah lied, sniffing back tears. "I'll be all right. You should go back to Natalia."

"It's not nothing," Olivia insisted, brushing her hand along the woman's upper back to comfort her. "What happened back there? Were we making you uncomfortable?" Suddenly she wondered if perhaps Dinah just couldn't be accepting of her relationship with Natalia. She knew from experience after Emma's presentation, that Springfield wasn't immune to homophobia. Is that what she and Natalia were? Now wasn't the time to ponder.

"No, no, of course not," Dinah quickly reassured. She squeezed Olivia's hand.

"Then say you'll stay," Olivia urged. "You haven't tortured me near enough over my sex life," she teased.

That drew a smile from the hazel-eyed blonde.

Olivia smiled in response, and touched Dinah's hand. "We're almost finished here. We'll all go for coffee after. You can grill me some more, and I'll be snarky, and avoid your questions."

Dinah shook her head, laughing softly. "As tempting as that sounds, I can't, Ollie." She daintily wiped the tears from her eyes with a lacy handkerchief she had pulled from the pocket of her gray, pinstriped blazer. "I need to go."

"At least say you'll come to dinner soon," Olivia encouraged. "Natalia's in love with the farmhouse, especially the kitchen, and—" The pained expression in Dinahs' eyes stopped her mid-sentence.

"I hope you'll understand if I can never come visit you there." Dinah's voice was brittle; almost torn.

And then Olivia realized what she had said. "Oh, God, Di," she breathed, guilt piercing her borrowed heart, "I'm so sorry. You're thinking about Hart, aren't you? How callous of me. I—I'd forgotten that the farm—"

"Hold on to her, Olivia," Dinah interjected; her voice soft with the emotion that flooded those hazel eyes with unshed tears. "I loved him, the way you love her. I can see it in the way you look at her. She's the One."

"Yes, she is," Olivia said quietly; her eyes turning liquid jade.

Dinah squeezed Olivia's hand. "I'm happy for you," she said sincerely. "You just make sure you get it right this time."

Olivia hugged her close, and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, Di," she whispered. "I will."

And with that, the heels of Dinah's sleek Prada boots clicked along the hardwood floors of the Heirloom Furnishings showroom, carrying her away.

Olivia vowed right then and there to rekindle her friendship with Dinah. And then she returned to Natalia, taking the woman in her arms, holding her impossibly close. She understood what Dinah was saying: Treasure every moment, because you never know when it might be taken from you. Natalia asked her what was wrong, and all Olivia could manage through the laden sheath of her emotions, was that she loved her. Natalia accepted that, and simply held her close until the emotions subsided.

They quickly agreed then that the pillow-top mattress where Dinah had discovered them was the most comfortable of all the choices. And with that decision behind them, they found Ryan again, and finished their order. It was then that they learned it would take eight to ten weeks for their furniture to arrive. Natalia looked positively crestfallen at the news, until Olivia assured that this was quite reasonable, given the hand-crafted nature of the pieces. Still, she was none too pleased with the prospect of having to wait.

Natalia's head was spinning as Olivia wrote the check to pay for their purchase. So much for not breaking the bank, she thought. She had to smile, though, at how much it pleased Olivia to know that Natalia really loved the choices that they had made together. And though she let it slide this time, because it meant so much to Olivia, Natalia vowed to herself that she wouldn't grow accustomed to such indulgence.

"You just spent more on a bedroom set than I spent on my last four cars, combined," Natalia pointed out, as they sauntered back to Olivia's Nissan, Olivia's hand tucked into her own. She loved the way they fit so perfectly together.

"Do you like it?" Olivia asked, pulling Natalia into her arms as they reached the car.

"You know I do," Natalia smiled.

"Then think of it as an investment," Olivia suggested, shrugging innocently. "It'll serve us well for the rest of our lives, and then we can pass it on to one of our grandchildren."

"Well, my, my, but you have some lofty expectations there, Ms. Spencer," Natalia flirted.

"What, that we'll have grandchildren someday?" Olivia grinned.

"No—," Natalia sighed noncommittally, "That I'll be able to put up with you for the rest of our lives."

Olivia offered her an indignant expression; then arched an eyebrow in challenge. "You can't live without me." Her assertion was punctuated by those entrancing jade eyes, and that hint of a smile that always played at the corners of those perfect lips.

Natalia couldn't resist those piercing eyes, or that enchanting smile. Her dimples bloomed. "Well, you do have a point," she easily relented, and she allowed those perfect lips to kiss her again.

Her thoughts returning to the present, Olivia sighed softly. She was more than pleased with the way things had worked out throughout her entire day. Her day had started out gloriously—with Natalia still nestled in her arms when she awoke that morning. Glancing over Natalia's body, she discovered that Emma had already arisen—a bit unusual for the child, but nothing of great concern. She listened for a moment, noting the telltale rumpus of morning cartoons in the sitting room, and smiled, turning her attention to the woman in her arms.

She had been hard-pressed to decide whether Natalia looked downright sexy, lying there in only her silky blue panties and Olivia's SpongeBob pajama top; or simply adorable, her hair all mussed from sleep. Either way, she hadn't been able to resist waking the gorgeous woman with slow, sweet kisses.

Natalia had clearly been having a rather pleasant dream, as the sleepy kisses she gave in return included murmured pleas for Olivia to touch her. The husky cadence of her voice was so sultry it made Olivia's groin clench with sexual anticipation. She sighed softly against Natalia's lips, and gently coaxed her from her dream-world with whispers and more soft kisses.

When Natalia finally roused into some simulation of coherence, she smiled against Olivia's mouth, whispering, "Morning, Gorgeous," into her kiss in that sleepy morning voice that made Olivia's skin tingle all over. Natalia stretched languidly, and then snuggled deeper into the soft warmth of Olivia's body. "Where's Em?"

"SpongeBob," was all Olivia needed say, to evoke noises of comprehension from Natalia.

Natalia groaned softly, as she shifted against Olivia's body. "I don't wanna get up," she murmured, simply enjoying the nearness of her.

"Lucky for you, we don't have to," Olivia whispered against Natalia's hair. "Not for at least…" she arched her back, glancing at the clock, "another two hours."

Natalia sighed contentedly. "How'd you manage that?"

"Well, while you were in the shower last night, I picked out Emma's clothes for today, and laid them on her bed, called in a breakfast order for us, and left a message for Lawrence that Em needs a ride to school," Olivia said, proudly ticking off her list of accomplishments.

"Well, you were certainly busy last night." Natalia grinned against Olivia's chest; then peered up into her eyes. "You were just angling to keep me in your bed for as long as possible, weren't you?" she playfully accused.

Olivia smiled knowingly, nuzzling against Natalia's ear. "Guilty as charged," she confessed. "So just relax, and enjoy your morning off," she quietly urged, kissing Natalia's temple.

"You spoil me," Natalia whispered, brushing her lips against Olivia's pulse point.

"Every chance I get," Olivia vowed, snuggling closer to her. And they lingered there, talking quietly and sharing leisurely kisses, for as long as they dared, before it was time to face the world again.

Once they finally made it out of bed, they dressed for the day; both of them thankful that Olivia kept a stash of fresh suits in her suite for emergencies. Olivia thought Natalia looked absolutely stunning wearing her double-breasted Chanel linen pant suit in charcoal gray, and she wasn't the least bit shy about telling her so—first with the flickering of desire in those dark jade eyes, then with whispered words and kisses, and finally, with hedonistic glances throughout the remainder of the day. Olivia made her feel positively breathtaking, without even really trying.

After a room-service breakfast with Emma, Natalia walked her down to Lawrence, the Beacon's transportation director, while Olivia made final preparations for their morning meeting. Olivia was more than pleased by the outcome of their meeting with the finance committee, as it had gone extraordinarily well—they had agreed with her proposals regarding the recent Chicago acquisitions, and took the potential locations in Indianapolis and St. Louis under advisement. They would review those proposals, and reconvene in two weeks to discuss them in detail. After the meeting, things had only gotten better—she and Natalia had agreed upon their first joint purchase as a couple. It felt good. Damned good. And then, on the drive home, they had agreed to find an equitable way to split not only their living expenses, but also the cost of any household repairs, joint purchases, vacations, and the like. She didn't think things could get any better—but then there was their first date, and somehow, she knew they could…

Focusing on their impending date then, she grinned like a schoolgirl as she slipped into her chosen attire. Her stonewashed jeans formed flawlessly to the smooth curve of her hips, cradling her ass, even as it hugged the taut muscles of her thighs, before the straight-legged cut plunged down into black leather boots that rose to her mid-calves. The crisp lines of her low-cut cotton blouse provided a glorious view of her ample cleavage, as white cuffs peeked from beneath the sleeves of her tapered black boyfriend jacket.

She tousled her hair just slightly, and smoothed out a wrinkle in her clothing here and there; then she surveyed herself in the full-length mirror in her bedroom; approving of the image peering back at her. She looked good. Damned good. Sexy, even; and she knew it. She knew wherever they went tonight she would attract the attention of men and women alike. Funny thing was, Natalia's attention was all she wanted or desired. It was a new experience for her, this need only for the attention and desire of one, rather than many, and it felt amazing.

She felt more lighthearted and carefree than she had in, well… her entire life, as she bounded down the stairs to fix dinner for Emma.

Emma's eyes slowly crawled up her forehead, as she peered up at her mother from the kitchen table. "You're going to cook me dinner?" she queried. The skepticism in her tone reflected in the wary expression in those bluish-green eyes.

Olivia bit back a scowl. "Contrary to popular belief around here, Little Miss, I can cook," she said coolly. "I'm a—" She let the statement drop; she didn't even finish it off in her head.

"Umm… but Natalia said you're not allowed to use the stove," Emma cut in. "Not after that last time…"

"Fine—," Olivia said determinedly, forcing a tight smile, "I'll use the oven." She wasn't angry exactly—nothing could make her angry today. She just… She couldn't put it to words.

Emma was shaking her head back and forth, a sort of "tsk-tsk" quality to the movement. "I'd stick with the microwave if I were you," she warned.

Spinning on her heel to avoid Emma's watchful gaze, Olivia planted her hands on her hips, and sighed. How had she come to live with two people who knew her so well, yet had no idea she could cook? She was an accomplished chef, for Christ's sake! If she weren't so busy running the Beacon, she would take Watershed, and in the role of Chef de Cuisine, she would turn it into a world-renowned five-star restaurant. Sometimes she missed the creativity that came with being in charge of her own kitchen. The thought was tempting.

However tempting, though, the thought was also fleeting. Tonight was her first official date with the love of her life. She wasn't going to let anything—and she meant anything, ruin it. With renewed determination, and a quick attitude adjustment, she turned and smiled at her daughter.

"Microwave it is," she said warmly. She gently tousled Emma's hair. "What would you like, Jellybean?"

Bluish-green eyes lit up like fireworks. "Is there any of Natalia's chicken and rice casserole left?" Emma asked. The expectancy in Emma's voice was contagious, making Olivia wish she could have some too.

"I think so," Olivia answered with a smile, as she turned toward the refrigerator. "Oh… wait—yeah, here it is…" she said playfully; to which Emma belted out a resounding, "Yay!"

Olivia laughed at the child's exuberance, and pulled the container of leftovers from the refrigerator, setting it on the counter. Systematically, she retrieved a plate and glass from the cabinet, and a large spoon and small fork from the cutlery drawer. Spooning a generous helping of casserole onto the plate, she pushed it into the microwave.

The buttons played a little tune as Olivia punched them, and then the appliance was set to work. It grunted and popped as the turntable spun; telling Olivia that the glass turntable had fallen off its guides. She opened the door again, adjusting the heavy glass, and within seconds, it was whirring about, doing her bidding. She liked it when appliances and electronic equipment submitted to her will. It made life so much easier.

Mere minutes later, Olivia set the plateful of casserole, a glass of milk, and a fork in front of Emma; receiving a polite "Thank you, Mommy," chased by a questioning frown in return. "Aren't you and Natalia gonna have some?"

Lowering herself into the chair next to Emma, Olivia gently reminded her that Jane was coming to stay with her while Mommy and Natalia went out for dinner.

Emma groaned at the reminder. "But you just had dinner last night," she whined.

Olivia chuckled. "What—we're not allowed to have more than one dinner a week? We'll get kinda hungry, don't ya think?" she teased; drawing a giggle from Emma.

"You're silly, Mommy," Emma laughed. "I just missed eating with you guys last night. I like it when we eat here at our table."

"I like it, too, Baby," Olivia said earnestly. "And I promise, we'll have dinner together tomorrow night. It's pizza and movie night."

"Yay!" Emma exclaimed; clapping her hands excitedly. "What movie are we gonna watch?"

"Why don't you make that your project for tonight," Olivia suggested. "It'll give you something to do after your homework is finished."

"It's already finished," Emma chirped proudly. She blew on her casserole to help it cool. "I did it right when we got home."

"You did?" The exuberance in Olivia's tone matched her daughter's.

"I did!" Emma exclaimed. "And I didn't even need any help." She sounded rather satisfied.

Olivia tousled Emma's hair. "I'm so proud of you, Baby."

Emma beamed under Olivia's praise. "Are you taking Natalia someplace special?" she asked, shoving a forkful of casserole into her mouth.

Olivia's smile brightened. "After tonight, I hope it will be special," she answered forthrightly.

"What does that mean?" Emma pressed, after swallowing the bite of food.

"It means… tonight is a special night, because Natalia and I are having our first real grown-up date," Olivia explained. "And I hope that will make the places we go feel special to us, even when we get really old, and we have gray hair and stuff." Her tone was a mixture of emotion and playfulness, and Emma responded with a giggle, followed by a gasp.

Clasping her hands over her mouth, she said, "You're gonna get gray hair?" thinking the concept impossible.

Olivia chuckled at her daughter's animation. "Yes, Jellybean, someday when you're all grown up and married, with babies of your own, Natalia and I will probably both have gray hair." Lord help them both when the teen years came around. Olivia was certain that "probably" would become a "definitely."

Emma chewed on the comment in tandem with another bite of her food. Swallowing, she furrowed her brow, one corner of her mouth turned downward in serious contemplation. Round and round and round her thought processes churned, as she input various pieces of information—images she had encountered, conversations she had heard—weighing each within the context of the other, and finally, she peered up at Olivia, the question poised on the tip of her tongue. "Mommy?" she said tentatively.

"Yeah, Baby," Olivia answered. The tone in her voice told Emma that she was open and receptive to anything she might hear.

"Do I have to marry some dumb old boy?" Emma asked, drawing a chuckled from Olivia. She understood the mind of an eight-year-old girl when it came to the notion of boys. They were smelly, and they liked bugs. Olivia hoped Emma would remain uninterested for at least another couple of years. Ten years would be great. Twenty would be positively fabulous! She sighed, almost wistfully. What were the chances of that?

"No, Em," she answered, shaking her head back and forth. "You don't have to get married at all, if you don't want to. But I have a feeling you'll change your mind someday," she smiled.

"No, Mom, I mean… can I marry a girl, instead?" Emma clarified.

"Oh!" Olivia exclaimed. She certainly hadn't seen that coming. She considered the question for a moment. How does one explain the illegality of same-sex marriage to an eight-year-old? How much information did she really need to give her? She opted for something simple, yet affirmative. "Well… as long as you're happy, I don't see why not."

Emma smiled at her. "Good," she declared; and she shoveled another bite of casserole into her mouth.

Olivia arched a questioning eyebrow. "Do you think you might wanna marry a girl?" she asked. There was no harm in attempting to gauge the possibilities. One never knew, she reasoned. She was certainly living proof of that.

"I don't know," Emma answered casually. "Just thought I'd keep my options open," she announced; drawing a hearty laugh from Olivia. Sometimes the child was far too mature for her age. Before Olivia could respond, Emma launched another question. "Are you gonna marry Natalia?"

Shit. So much for the easy response to the marriage issue, Olivia thought. Again, she considered the question carefully before offering a response. "Y'know what, Jellybean? I would love to marry Natalia," she answered sincerely. In that moment, she realized just exactly how sincere that statement was, and it made her sad that it wasn't legally an option. She had never really stopped to consider the rights of same-sex couples before. In theory, she had never had anything against extending them equal rights. To the contrary, she thought it was a ridiculous set of arguments used to deny such basic civil liberties. But the issue was never something that burdened her enough to warrant protest. Until now. Now it was personal. Theory became reality, and it took on a sense of immediacy for her. "But… it's just not that simple..."

Emma was giving her a look of confusion. "Why? Is it 'cause you been married too many times?" she asked innocently. Out of the mouths of babes…

Olivia nearly choked, and she felt the rapid rise of color in her cheeks. "No, Baby," she said wryly, "That's not exactly why."

"Why then?" Emma pressed.

Taking a deep breath, Olivia paced her words, "It's because… well, some people think it's not okay for two women or two men to love each other the way Natalia and I do," she clarified, attempting to keep the explanation simple. "They don't think it's okay for us to be married."

"Well, that's dumb," Emma vehemently declared, crossing her arms defensively.

"I think so too, Baby," Olivia firmly agreed; a sense of disquiet in her tone. She wondered what Natalia's thoughts were on the subject. She was certain, given Natalia's religious beliefs, that she had been opposed in the past. But had she even considered it, in light of the changing dynamic of their relationship? Had she changed her mind? It was certainly a topic for discussion.

Emma was scratching her head, as she chewed on her bottom lip. "How come you said I could marry a girl, if you can't marry Natalia?"

Jeez, nothing gets past this kid," Olivia chuckled to herself. "Well, I was just thinking that maybe by the time you're old enough to get married, people won't think it's so wrong anymore," she answered honestly.

"I still don't get why they think it's wrong," Emma huffed.

"Some people think it's wrong because of what their church teaches," Olivia explicated. "And some just don't understand that love is just love, no matter who's involved." She hoped her explanation was adequate. This conversation was a lot more difficult than she had anticipated.

"Hmm… but you think they'll understand by the time I'm big?" Emma asked, curious.

"I sure hope so, Em," Olivia said; gently tunneling her fingers through her daughter's hair. Her smile was weak, but her hope sincere.

"Good," Emma declared, with the firm nodding of her head. "If I marry a girl, I want her to have curly dark hair and pretty brown eyes, just like Natalia," she announced resolutely.

Olivia offered her a genuine smile. "You are most definitely my daughter," she affectionately intoned. She kissed Emma's hair. "I think that would be perfect, Baby."

Finally satisfied with the responses she had received, Emma turned her full attention on her dinner. Even leftover, Natalia's chicken and rice casserole was absolutely divine…

Two-and-a-half hours after Olivia sent her upstairs, showered, clothed and perfectly coifed, Natalia finally descended again. She had felt like a teenaged girl anticipating her first date; her nerves on edge, pulse racing, as she literally rummaged through her entire closet—more than once—before finally settling upon the ensemble she was wearing. Her entire bedroom was a wreck, and she still wasn't sure how she felt about her chosen attire. She had fussed to herself, wishing she'd had time to go shopping; and couldn't help the bittersweet wave of nostalgia, as she wished Nastassia had been there to shop with her. Nastassia was the one with fashion sense, after all. She hadn't felt the loss and longing for her sister so strongly in nearly twenty years. It's only happening because I opened the door by talking about her, she had told herself, as she wiped the tears from her eyes, and reapplied her make-up.

Slowly, she descended, revealing sleek, black boots, then a pair of form-fitting, yet comfortable jeans, festooned with an adorable little black and silver belt, and finally a crisp, button-down shirt that hugged to her womanly curves, accenting all of her best features. The shirt was burgundy and cut down to… there… and the muted burgundy and cream scarf adorning her neck softened the richness of shirt's hue, as it rose to meet the color in her cheeks. Her hair was loose and wavy, and its soft highlights framed her face, illuminating those dark, sultry eyes; and when her nervous smile met with Olivia's gaze, she left the smitten hotelier nearly speechless.

Completely mesmerized, Olivia exhaled an expletive wrapped in a soft moan. Damn, but this woman was beautiful. How could anyone make a pair of soft, gently-worn jeans and a simple, button-down shirt look so haute couture?

Olivia approached her slowly, her jade eyes flashing with love and desire. Her lips and lungs were at war—those lips tipping into a smile, only to be dragged down again, as her lungs expelled another breath of nervous air. She sounded as though she were panting with desire; but it was simply that Natalia had managed to take her breath away—without even trying.

Suddenly even more nervous and shy, Natalia bit her lower lip. "Is this alright for what you have planned?" she hedged.

"It's perfect," Olivia smiled, her eyes sweeping down Natalia's body one more time before pulling her close. "You're absolutely stunning, Sweetheart," she whispered against Natalia's ear.

Natalia released a breath of pent-up air, and suddenly dimples were in full bloom beneath flushed cheeks. "Thank you," she said shyly.

Dark eyes fell to Olivia's visage, and her breath caught again. Her chestnut locks were wavy, and slightly mussed, as they framed Olivia's face, giving a sense of wildness to the otherwise powerful, yet well-controlled pulse of innate sexiness that pounded within her body—unleashed only upon its owner's command. Anyone and everyone who knew Olivia Spencer felt it pulsing there, just beneath the surface—like a tease, she unleashed it, allowing it to taunt, to entice; then reigned it back in, as if to say, "you only wish." Previous suitors were allowed only a taste; a sampling. Natalia was allowed to possess, to devour… to love.

Even tonight, everything about Olivia—her chiseled physique, her confident manner, and carefully-chosen attire screamed power and control, with just a hint of seduction. Anyone surveying her body would see it. The truth, though, lay hidden in the depths of those flashing jade eyes. Like undoubtedly many others would this evening, Natalia allowed herself the indulgence of appreciating Olivia's body—of getting swept up in that vortex of power and simmering seduction. But then she found Olivia's eyes, and the truth became self-evident: Natalia was the one who truly held all the power.

Gathering Natalia impossibly closer against her body, Olivia's biceps flexed beneath the sleeve of her jacket; and a shiver rippled down Natalia's spine, as she caught sight of the straining material.

"Are you cold, Sweetheart?" Olivia asked, concerned.

Natalia shook her head back and forth in slow motion. "No—," she murmured, draping her arms around Olivia's neck. "Cold… is definitely not what I am right now…" There was no question as to Natalia's insinuation.

"No? Then what are you?" Olivia prodded. There was an unmistakable air of suggestion in her tone, as she arched one perfectly threaded eyebrow.

"Appreciative," Natalia whispered, nuzzling against Olivia's nose. That didn't even begin to cover the swirl of emotions and sensations she was experiencing; but it would have to suffice for now.

Natalia's lips were so close Olivia could taste them. "Of what?" she murmured. She tried to catch those lips with her own, but Natalia eased back, teasingly. Olivia gasped softly. She liked this sultry sort of playfulness. It was a foreshadowing of sorts—a glimpse at how Natalia would be when they made love.

"Of you…" Natalia whispered, ghosting her lips across Olivia's.

Olivia arched a questioning eyebrow, drawing a smile from Natalia.

"You're gorgeous, and sexy, and…" Natalia's mouth was hovering again, as her words trailed off in a burst of warm breath against Olivia's face.

"And—," Olivia whimpered, eager with anticipation of her kiss.

"And you're completely mine." Natalia's tone was unapologetically possessive, and she drew Olivia closer, staking her claim over the woman she loved with that much-anticipated kiss.

Olivia certainly didn't protest.

After Jane's arrival, Olivia went over a few last minute details with her; filling her in on the evening's progression. Emma had eaten dinner, and there were snacks in the cabinet if she wanted something a little later—no sugar, lest she be up all night. Her homework was finished, and she was supposed to pick out a movie for Friday night. That was her one responsibility for the evening. After that, she could watch television—their usual rating rules applied. Bath time was at seven thirty, and bed by eight o'clock. She could read for thirty minutes if she wanted, but no longer; then it was lights out. Emma groaned at that declaration, but Olivia quickly reminded her she had been up extremely late the night before, and needed to get some extra sleep, so she wouldn't fall asleep during movie night the following evening. The number where they could be reached was on the refrigerator… blah, blah, blah…

Instructions finished, Natalia led Jane upstairs to show her to the guest room, as well as where to find towels and wash cloths and extra blankets if she needed them. Olivia joined them a bit later, and they chatted for a few minutes—Olivia imparting the extreme importance of Jane not allowing anyone into their home because of the threat of Phillip's return. After receiving appropriate assurances from Jane that Emma would not be inadvertently told that her father had returned, and that the police would be summoned if he showed up at their door, Natalia went in search of their daughter to say goodnight.

Following close behind, Olivia hugged and kissed Emma, admonishing her to be good, and extracting a promise of the same. Then, with the promise of a call to say goodnight—the rectification of the previous night's mistake, they reminded Jane that they would likely be out quite late, and thus, they would see her in the morning. And finally, Olivia and Natalia descended the stairs, leaving Jane and Emma in the bedroom, giggling as they dug through a pile of DVDs.

Reaching the mud room, Olivia dug into the closet. "Here, put this on…" she instructed; handing Natalia a full-length black leather coat. "It's a lot warmer than your coat, and you'll need the extra protection tonight," she grinned.

"Are you taking me to the arctic or something?" Natalia chuckled.

"Nothing so dramatic as that," Olivia smiled, "but still… Just put it on," she coaxed.

"Olivia, I can't take your coat," Natalia protested.

"It's fine, Sweetheart. Trust me," Olivia reassured. "You've sufficiently fattened me up over the past year, with all of your fabulous cooking, so… it doesn't fit me anymore, anyway."

"What are you talking about—I fattened you up?" Natalia said incredulously. "You're absolutely stunning," she declared; pulling the hotelier into her arms. "Totally sexy," she cooed.

"Y'know, that's the second time you've called me sexy tonight," Olivia grinned; arching an eyebrow. "Guess you must really mean it."

"Oh, I do." Natalia's tone was both playful and adamant.

"Well then, I'm glad you like my sexy, 'cause, I'm sporting twenty pounds more of it now than I was last winter," Olivia teased.

"Stop it!" Natalia fussed; gently slapping Olivia's chest. "You're so beautiful, Olivia… I just… I can barely take my eyes off of you."

"Feeling's mutual," Olivia whispered against Natalia's ear. She kissed Natalia there, and the warmth of her mouth made Natalia's entire body tingle.

Natalia fought back a blush, and Olivia grinned as she dutifully buttoned up the leather coat. "See, it's perfect on you," she declared, fastening the second to the top button. She turned then, retrieving Natalia's hat and gloves from the pocket of her old coat, and handed them to her.

Thanking her, Natalia slipped them on, as Olivia shrugged into her overcoat, quickly fastening the buttons.

Glancing back at Natalia, Olivia smiled. "Are you ready?" she asked expectantly. She was a bundle of mixed nerves—simultaneously anxious and excited.

Natalia smiled back, anticipation in her eyes, as she nodded her head. Olivia took her hand, and led her out to the car.

Walking Natalia to the passenger side of the white Nissan, Olivia gallantly opened the door.

Natalia arched an eyebrow. "What—no limousine? We're not gonna take off in a helicopter, and end up who knows where?" she grinned; teasing Olivia for her usual tendency to go overboard.

"Uh-uh," Olivia replied; slowly shaking her head back and forth. She pulled Natalia into her arms, gazing into the deep mahogany eyes that glimmered in the moonlight. "Tonight isn't about flashy cars or five-star restaurants," she declared. "You already know I could afford to give you the world if you wanted it. So tonight isn't about me showing off—it's about showing you… in a thousand little ways, just exactly how much you mean to me," she whispered.

A soft smile tiptoed across Natalia's face. "And just exactly how do you plan to do that?"

"By remembering the little things you've told me along the way," Olivia shared. "Like… how you like to be kissed…" she breathed. "How you like it when I gently nibble your bottom lip… lightly brushing my tongue against it… before I draw you into soft, slow kisses that go on and on until you're completely breathless…" she whispered; following each step with a languid physical demonstration.

"I never said any of that to you," Natalia whispered, as she lost herself in their kiss.

"You didn't have to," Olivia breathed; deepening their kiss.

The kiss was long, and slow, and deep, and Natalia loved the way Olivia's tongue played against her own. No one had ever kissed her this way. No one had ever made her feel the way Olivia did—so loved, so desired, so… desirous—with nothing more than the tender yet insistent workings of her tongue. She moaned softly against Olivia's mouth, drawing the hotelier from her hedonistic pursuits, and Olivia smiled at her, a knowing smile.

"We should get going," Olivia whispered, "We'll be late for our reservations," as she eased from their embrace.

Natalia kissed her again—she couldn't help herself; and then she was in the car, Olivia tucking her carefully inside before closing the door.

Once they were both in the car, seatbelts securely fastened, Natalia leaned toward Olivia. "In case I forget to tell you later… I had a really great time tonight," she whispered; kissing Olivia softly.

"Just so we're clear—I'm not taking you to the opera," Olivia smirked when Natalia released her.

Laughing, Natalia blushed. One too many romantic comedies, and she knew she'd been busted. "Yeah, yeah, I know. That's so totally Pretty Woman, but I just had to put it out there," she grinned.

Olivia laughed with her. "Well, I may not be jetting you off to the opera, but you can still kiss me on the mouth when we get home…" Her tone was flirtatious and suggestive, and Natalia responded in kind.

"I have to wait until we get home?" Natalia husked. It was a request for invitation, rather than a question, and Olivia was more than willing to invite.

"I would never refuse your kisses, Natalia. No matter where we are…" Olivia's tone was warm and breathy, and it made Natalia want to kiss her again right then and there. And that's exactly what she did.

Once released from their kiss, Olivia fished her Blackberry out of her purse, switched it off, and dropped it back inside. Then she requested Natalia's, and repeated the action. Natalia protested, of course, and Olivia offered her a persuasive smile. "Trust me," she coaxed. Sliding her key into the ignition, she cranked it over, and the engine began to purr. "Open the glove compartment."

Natalia did as she was asked; then a confused expression followed. "I don't understand. Why would we—"

"It's for emergencies. It's one of those cheap throwaways. I picked it up today. Only Jane and the warden at Rafe's facility have the number," Olivia explained. "Take it out and turn it on."

"You think of everything," Natalia smiled. She reached into the glove compartment, pulled the phone out, and turned it on.

Olivia leaned close, cupping Natalia's cheek with her hand. "I just… Tonight is about us, Natalia; just you and me," she said softly, brushing her nose against Natalia's, "and I don't want any unnecessary interruptions."

"Have I told you today, how much I love you?" Natalia's tone was soft and filled with affection, as she smiled against Olivia's lips.

"You have," Olivia grinned, "but I certainly don't mind hearing it again."

"I have a feeling you're going to be hearing it several more times before this night is over," Natalia quietly asserted.

"Music to my ears," Olivia whispered. And then Natalia was kissing her again.

TBC…

Next Up: Chapter 7.2 – The Outing—The Essence of Romance