"…But I love you more," Bette continued, eyes sparkling. "My god, I love you more."

At those words, Tina felt her own eyes well up with tears. All she had ever wanted was to be at least as important to Bette as her career. Or even to, just for once, come first—to be a priority. And now there was Bette, standing in front of Tina, telling her that she was her priority—and backing her words with actions.

There was Bette, standing in front of Tina, not asking her to bend for once. There was Bette, bending for her. Showing her she loved her enough to do it—that Tina was worth bending for.

Meeting shining hazel eyes—Tina's expression suddenly open and willing to trust—Bette repeated herself again, her voice solemn. "I love you more," she promised.

Tina shook her head in wonder, overcome with love.

"So, please," Bette sniffled, "please: can I come with you?"

All around them, horns honked in irritation, but Tina couldn't even hear them. "I-"

Behind them, a driver yelled, "Get out of the road, lady!"

Bette turned toward him, breaking eye contact. And, for a second, she wasn't the soft private Bette reserved just for Tina—she was hard and unwilling to let an irritable man ruin their moment. "Just a second!"

Watching her, Tina felt herself fall in love even more. "Get in!" she chuckled softly. "Just get in!" She scooted toward the passenger's side to make room as Bette struggled with the door and then hurried to slam it shut behind her.

And then, unable and unwilling to deny herself any longer, given everything, Bette launched herself toward Tina, grabbing the back of her neck to pull her close.

Tina eagerly reciprocated, cradling a toned bicep, her other hand coming up to cup a soft cheek—forbidding Bette from even thinking about pulling away.

Not that Bette wanted to. Finally, what she wanted—and what she'd needed to do to get it—had become clear to Bette. After twenty-five years of trying and failing, she had finally figured out how to love Tina as well as Tina loved her, and now she just wanted to show it and to keep showing it.

After a minute, a deep voice from the front seat interrupted them—the driver. "We still going to Terminal 1?"

Tina raised her eyebrow at Bette. Then, she decided to offer her a tiny out—or at least an opportunity to better gather her bearings. Because she knew Bette—she was methodical, meticulous. She combated her anxiety by asserting control. And now she was headed toward the airport in a formal dress and heels, without so much as a toothbrush. "You can always come meet me there next week, if you want to take a few days to pack."

Her smile bright, half-crazed with a mixture of both anticipation and anxiety—she'd never done anything like this before—Bette shook her head. She reached for Tina's hand. "I don't want to wait."

Tina's smile widened, her cheeks sore.

Bette turned toward the driver. "Terminal 1, please."

The driver began to follow the slow-moving cars in front of him, and—after putting on their seatbelts—Bette and Tina went into problem-solving mode together, securing Bette a plane ticket and sending a text to Angie.

Tina dropped her hand to Bette's thigh, caressing it softly. "I can't believe you're coming with me."

Bette grinned and reached down, squeezing her hand.

On the airplane—scarcely populated, since it was a weekend red-eye flight—Bette and Tina had the whole row to themselves.

Her eyes on Bette's, Tina bit her lip. "You know, apart from the day Angelica was born, this might actually be the best day of my life."

Bette smiled wide, glad to reciprocate when Tina leaned in for a kiss.

In the air, Bette lifted up the armrest that separated their seats, allowing them to sit closely more comfortably. "Remind me what time we land?"

"A little before seven." Tina yawned.

Bette gestured toward the empty seat next to them. "Do you want to stretch out a bit and try to sleep? You could lay your head on my lap and stretch your legs out over those two seats."

"Yeah?"

Bette nodded, moving to the aisle seat and patting her legs.

Tina took off her seatbelt so she could get more comfortable and lay a small airplane-provided pillow over Bette's thighs. As they got situated, Bette tucked a thin blanket around her.

Tina looked up at her. "Are you sure this is comfortable for you?"

"I'm sure," Bette promised, her hand smoothing back blonde hair. She leaned down, pressing her lips to Tina's temple. Then, fingers still softly through loose waves she shut her eyes.