The rest of the week was uneventful. Cassandra laid in bed longer than usual, took longer and hotter showers and kept finding herself distracted whenever she tried to pray. She could handle the pain that was quick and fierce, whatever she was going through then just made her sore all the time. Just what had Sadie really done to her?

Cassandra forced herself out of bed at noon that Saturday when she received a message from Sadie that read, "On my way." Cassandra rose, dressed, ate a little something and waited just outside the manor's gate. Sadie probably still had a ways to go, but she didn't want to dawdle. It was a musty day, clouds covered the sky and threatened to turn to rain and the smell of dew-covered leaves filled the air.

Sadie pulled up ten minutes later. Cassandra took the front seat and observed how tight Sadie's grip on the steering wheel looked. It was always a little rough on the inside, the floor lined with empty cans and bottles and the smell of stale French fries always came from the backseat, even when it was clean.

"Hey," Sadie said. She only turned to face Cassandra halfway.

"Hey."

Sadie looked toward the window and chewed at her lip for a moment. "I know it isn't your specialty, but we obviously need to talk for a bit."

Cassandra clutched a handful of her own hair. "Yes… now?"

"Not right now. There's a place I go when I think about stuff. We'll go there."

Sadie drove down from the hills, winding past other mansions and expensive shops toward the wealthy suburbs. The roads wound, Sadie drove too fast, somehow it bothered Cassandra's stomach in spite of the far more perilous situations she'd regularly been in. Or maybe that was just the situation itself bothering her. Neither spoke the whole drive.

They eventually found themselves in a parking spot just outside of a large playground, the slide and handlebars built around a big structure made to resemble a rocket. Only one women, a few children and a dog ran around, the clouds still warned of rain.

"When I was a kid, my parents and Salty used to bring me here. We didn't have a lot of money, but even the rich kid's playgrounds still belonged to the whole community," Sadie said. "I used to talk about a lot of stuff at those swings over there. That's where I want to go."

Without another word, she stepped out of the car and toward the swing set. Cassandra followed a few steps behind and, for a few minutes, they just sat. The creak of the chains, the way their feet scuffed against the dirt and the sound of the kids on the playground was the only noise between them.

"I'm sorry for the way things went the other day. I didn't mean to make you feel weird or uncomfortable or anything else. Just… acting in the moment, you know? I was paying attention, I stopped as soon as you told me to."

"I said it twice," Cassandra said.

"You did? I didn't hear you then." There was a twinge of annoyance in Sadie's voice. "I'm not a mind reader here."

"I know," Cassandra said. "I did not—" She stopped and sighed. "I'm sorry."

"Well, that's not really important. I mean, it is important, just not what I'm trying to talk to you about right now." Sadie paused a moment, took a deep breath and a long exhale. "I'm sorry too. I'm kind of a mess right now, I know."

"It's fine."

Sadie pushed at the ground with her feet, forced her swing up a little and rocked back and forth. "Cassie... I really like you. I have always really liked you." She laughed softly. "The first time I met you, you saved my life. It's not like I have a lot of choice in liking you."

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong, and Cassandra knew it. Even through her jacket, Cassandra could see her body was tense, evidenced by the way she clutched the swing's chains.

"And I really want this thing to work. This you and me thing. But after the other night… I don't know how to explain it. It's given me a lot to think about."

"Are you leaving me?"

Sadie's eyes went wide for a moment as she slowly turned toward Cassandra. "I thought you were awful at context clues."

A tiny spasm ran through Cassandra's body, leaving her arms and legs with a tight clasp. "Are you leaving me?"

"Damn it, Cassie, I don't know." The response was both sharp and rough. "I don't want to—"

"Then don't."

"Don't interrupt me." Silence took both of them again for a minute. "I don't want to break up with you. But between the other night and the stuff about school and whatever the hell else is going on, I just want some space to think about things. I didn't… I really didn't get just what different wavelengths we're on."

"You don't want to marry me."

"I have no idea if I want to marry you or not! I'm a senior in high school and really wasn't planning on figuring something like that out right now." The previous gentleness was gone, even the kicks to the dirt were more aggressive. "I don't know if I want to marry anyone. Maybe I'm so sick of the people you go to church with trying to keep it to themselves that I don't even want it any more."

Cassandra flinched. "Do you mean that?"

"Just like everything else, I don't know right now." Sadie's voice was more stable then, but the previous frustration was still there. "When I first came out, I was sure dating one of these, I don't know, new wave, liberal, religious lesbians would be an awful idea. That no matter how okay they'd ever say it is there was always going to be something weird under the surface."

The tension in Cassandra's hand vanished, her blood felt like it froze. "An awful idea? Am I an awful idea?"

Sadie gripped her forehead, eyes shut tight, but a few tears slipped past anyway. "You really have to pull that crap on me right now, don't you?"

The pain was apparent on Cassandra's nearly pale face. "Your words, not mine."

"I know they were." When Sadie opened her eyes again, they faced nothing but dirt. "I know what you wish I could be. I'm not even mad at you for wanting it. But I don't think I'm ever going to be that person."

"What person?"

"I think you wish I could just go along with it like you do. That I'd just be able to go to church with you and pretend like nothing was wrong. That we could run off and get married and start adopting kids and living that life like there wasn't anything wrong. Like it wasn't really screwed up I was falling in with the same line of thinking that says we're diseased and going to hell for what we do."

Cassandra was gripping the chains of the swing tight enough to leave marks in her hands. "You said you didn't care what I believed."

"I don't, but that doesn't mean I want it for myself. And maybe I want to be able to date somebody without feeling like there's pressure. Maybe I want to be able to sleep with someone I care about without feeling like I'm swearing to it the rest of my life." For a minute, all that could be heard was the wind and an occasional creak from the chains of the swings. "I just need some time to think about some stuff… I'm sorry."

For the last time, Cassandra asked, "Are you leaving me?"

The way Sadie's body lost all tension spoke to complete resignation. "Call it what you want to. I just need some time to think. About us, school, my life, whatever… if you wanna wait for me, I'll give you a call when I know, but I don't expect that." Sadie pushed up from the swing, tucked her hands in her pocket and sighed. "I wasn't trying to strand you out here, it's just where I'm comfortable. Can I drive you home?"

"… I will call Tim."

"Okay." Sadie took a step closer, bent down and wrapped her arms tight around Cassandra. Her words were quiet enough to be whispers. "You're a really, really good person. And I know you're going to make someone really happy."

As if the action was painful, Cassandra slowly raised one arm and clutched the back of one of Sadie's shoulders. "Why not you?"

After a few seconds, Sadie released her grip and laid a small kiss on her lips.

From somewhere nearby in the park, the middle-aged woman, shouted, "Hey! No! What do you think you're doing?"

Sadie gave it no attention, stood up straight, gave the best smile she could manage and wiped the last tears from her eyes. "Take care of yourself, Cassie. I'll see you later."

She made for her car in the direction of the shouting mother. Cassandra couldn't catch her words, but Sadie only acknowledged her enough to pick up the pace a little for her return to her car. After a few moments, the angered woman turned her attention toward Cassandra and made her advance.

Cassandra rose from the swing, her heart and mind raced in confusion and she ran in the opposite direction. Cassandra couldn't make much out, but just as she was escaping earshot she heard, "Yeah, you better get out of here! That's just like you do, ruining a nice day out for the rest of us, don't come back, dyke!"

She didn't know how far she'd run. She didn't know in what direction. She didn't know where home was. She just had to get away.

Cassandra finally stopped with a few heavy breaths at an intersection sign and tried to stabilize her breathing. What was she supposed to do? How was she supposed to do it? Sadie had robbed her of all her reason. She hurt, she was confused, she didn't know if she had to stop and pick up the pieces or keep running.

In the cloud of confusion her phone began to vibrate. With a fumble she freed it from her pocket. It was Tim, strange as his timing seemed. Cassandra wasn't ready to talk to anyone, but he was already trying to contact her. She had to wonder if, somehow, he already knew.

She answered, "Yes?"

"Hey, Cassie. I uh… I have some news… you somewhere secure?"

She didn't know, but said, "Go."

"I know this is kind of unexpected. I want you to tell me if you have any reservations about this—"

"What?"

"Cassandra? Are you alright? You sound a bit off—"

"Nothing." She said. "Running. Tried. Go on."

"That big ship the Penguin uses as a casino and floats around the bay with? The Final Offer? You know what I'm talking about?"

It didn't matter. "What about it?"

"Bruce keeps tabs on Cobblepot through his businesses sometimes. Somebody was on the phone with Cobblepot, complaining someone stole his penthouse reservation and erased the record of it. I didn't catch all of what Penguin said, but he mentioned the new guy in the penthouse had some kind of special. Special on Musas."

Cassandra's heart began to race again. "You think—"

"I think there's a chance it's your father," Tim said. "We don't know, obviously, but someone needs to investigate. I don't know if you're up for it, but if it really is him and Lipov's leading him into a trap, he might listen to you."

The blessed distraction had come. "Pick me up. I'll do anything."