July 2048

Rachel strode into the dining room one Sunday morning, near the end of the month, just a few days after her birthday. There was a swagger in her hips, with a shit-eating smirk on her lips; for Chloe, glancing over the paper thin screen of her e-display, it was like looking into a mirror. The kind of expression that Chloe herself wore around that age, when she was looking to antagonize the hell out of her Mom and Stepfather.

Of course, Chloe knew exactly what was about to go down; she didn't have as long and successful a career in politics as she enjoyed without learning a few tricks, the least of which was making sure to stay ahead one step ahead of her opponents. Granted, part of her felt a pang of regret at having to consider her own daughter as such...

...but I know damn well that sometimes 'teenager' is just another word for dipshit. Hell, I should know better than most.

Rachel was dressed in a tight fitting outfit made up of nylon, suede and vinyl, something that Chloe would best describe as the nineteen seventies getting way too drunk with the early Millennium, and then spitting out a love child that almost but not quite worked. But the kids seemed to like it. Of course, she was fifty-three, so what the hell did she know about current fashion, as her daughter liked to remind her. Of course, now they had-shirts and pants with animated graphics and colors that crawled up and down the arms and legs; it was the sort of thing Chloe would have literally killed for back when she was a teen.

Damn kids get all the cool toys.

Her daughter sat down at the breakfast table, a smile burning across her lips, highlighting the gleeful glint in her eyes that screamed, "I'm about to show you old farts how awesome I am, because I'm young, and you've never been cool." She reached out across the table, one bare arm exposed in her mother's direction as she grabbed the glass carafe of pineapple juice, oranges now being more less extinct.

"Rachel Vanessa Price-Caulfield, just what is that supposed to be?" Max asked. She stabbed a finger at the vibrant, glowing blue morpho tattoo on her daughter's bicep, its wings lazily flapping in a repeating loop. There was something unnatural in the way the image moved across skin; it gave Chloe the willies, but at the same time, she considered getting her own sleeve tattoo modified with similar nanoink technology.

Chloe hid her smile, as she sat back, waiting for the fireworks to begin. There would be hell to pay later on, for not having brought Max into the loop, but she was hoping the payoff at the end would net her at least some small measure of forgiveness from her wife.

Rachel tilted her head, lifting up her brows in a faux-innocent, 'who, me?' expression. "This? Oh. Just a birthday gift for myself. I even bought it with my own money and everything, Mom. I mean, I am fifteen now. It's my body, I should be able to get ink on it if I wanna. Especially something as zhway as this! I sketched out the design and everything. This is so super tawt."

Chloe winced.

Damnit, is that how I sounded when I used 'hella' in every other sentence?

"Rachel!" Max exclaimed with exasperation, rising up to take the bait as was clearly intended. "You're barely fifteen. And you are way, way too young to have a tat. Which is exactly what we told you two months ago when you asked us about it!"

"But Moooom!" Rachel interrupted. "Dad has a tattoo..."

Chloe kept her face hidden behind her e-paper, but held up her right arm. "Yo." she droned. The sleeve art still looked as colorful and bright as the day she first got it, thanks to some recent touch ups. She couldn't see, but definitely felt Max's burning glare cast in her direction.

Rachel smiled in triumph, "And yoooou. You have that wrist tattoo as well."

"And the chest tat." Chloe intoned. This time she earned a soft smack on the back of her head.

"God damnit, Chloe. This isn't funny! Would you back me up here? Rachel, your father and I have tattoos, but we were legal adults when we got them. Hell, I was twenty-one, and she was eighteen." She looked expectantly in her direction, and Chloe responded. "Oh. Yeah. That's actually true."

Well, Chloe was pretty sure she was of legal age when she got the first one. It was over thirty-five years ago, so she couldn't really remember, but she wasn't about to disagree on this point. Chiming in, she added, "Look, Rache, I think the point that your mother's trying to make is that you're still wait too young for that kind of thing, especially for school, and...um..."

She drifted off, not sure how to continue. Because truth be told, this kind of body modification was becoming more and more fashionable, at a younger and younger age. To a certain extent, there was an argument to be made, that she and Max were being unreasonably strict. On the other hand, Joyce flipped out and had kittens when Chloe got her own tattoo, so there was some karmic shit rolling downhill through the generations, to be sure.

"But Athena Jenkins got one, and she's seventeen!"

"You're not Athena Jenkins, and we're not her parents, who still had to sign off on it. Speaking of which, how the hell did you convince a tattoo shop to go along with...with this!?" Max waved a hand towards the still-flapping butterfly. Chloe could see she was clearly torn; on one hand, she was obviously impressed with her daughters illustrative skills, and never wanted to suppress her artistic urges. On the other hand, she was still a fucking Mom, and this shit wouldn't stand. Not in her house. Not after Rachel originally asked a few weeks back about getting a tattoo, and was specifically told by her mother - and Chloe backed her on this - that she was too young.

"Ooooh, there's this girl, who kinda likes me, over at The Illustrated Man, over in Lincoln City. I told her my folks were cool with it, and...and she just totally bought it. That's how epicly on-top I am, Mother Dear." She casually tossed her hair to one side. "I mean, look at it this way, it's just how impressed people are because you and Dad are kinda famous."

Oh. Kids are saying epic again? Well that's good, it's nice to see the classics coming back into style.

"Rachel! I swear to God, sometimes..." Max's voice rose in temper, and now that she'd goaded her mother into a fight, Rachel started to clamber to her feet, clearly relishing the conflict she was expecting.

Until Chloe, put down her electronic paper, cleared her throat loudly, and looked up at the both of them.

"Sweetie," she started, lifting a glass of juice up to her lips, and taking a short pull. "Let our now exceedingly doomed daughter enjoy it while she can." Glancing at her smartwatch, she added, "You know, won't be more than another three or four hours, by my estimation, until it's gone."

As one, the two of them turned to her, and asked at the same time, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Chloe leaned back, hooked her fingers through her suspenders, and explained, "Oh please, Rachel. Baby, maybe you thought going an hour down the road was clever, but I was still the God damn mayor of Arcadia Bay, not to mention currently the Congresswoman for this entire district. Let me guess, Felissa, that was her name, right? She stepped into the back room for a few minutes after you asked?"

Rachel blinked, not liking where this was going, from the look on her face, as she glanced down at her tattoo, cupping it with one hand as if she could desperately save it from the fate her father decreed. "Y-yeah. She said she had to get the inks..."

"Yeah. That was her giving me a call. Asking if you actually had parental consent. I told her I'd fill out the online form and make it all legal, but she was only allowed to use a temporary nanoink, and she couldn't tell you about our little chat. Gave her a pretty sizable tip, so I'm glad to see she held up her end of the bargain."

Her daughter started to sputter, disbelieving. "Wh-wha-what?! That's...that's not fair! How could you do that to me?!"

Chloe glanced up, meeting her expression dead on. "Easy. I'm your father. That means sometimes I gotta be a hardass for your own good. You know, 'cause it's not fair your Mom has to play 'Mean Parent' all the time."

She crooked up the corner of her mouth, basking in soft glowing expression that prompted from her wife.

Rachel deflated, and gave a sniff, "But...but I paid money for this! Like a lot. That's not fair, now I can't get it back!"

Chloe took a deep breath, narrowing her eyes, any playfulness in her voice, now gone. "No, you can't. We made it clear when you asked us two months ago that you couldn't get a tattoo. I seem to remember saying that we'd be willing to consider it when you were seventeen, but not before. And you tried to go behind our backs and do it anyhow. So you lose the tattoo, you lose the money you paid for it, and oh, yeah, you're also seriously grounded for a week. So think about today, before you try to blatantly antagonize either of us like that again."

Rachel's eyes bore into her, hurt, betrayed. Chloe spent the majority of her daughter's fifteen years being "Cool Dad". The good cop. The softie. She knew this had to hurt a hell of a lot more than if Max alone brought the hammer down.

Sorry, kiddo. I love you, but that's the point. It's gonna hurt more, you're gonna know we're serious, if it comes from me. Like this. Seventeen year old me would totally have your back on this, but guess what? She's been gone a long time now.

"I hate you!" She sputtered, in a clipped, singular burst, before turning and storming out of the kitchen.

A few seconds later, Chloe returned to her breakfast, snagging a piece of bacon-flavored textured protein, and chewed quietly on it, doing her best to ignore the painfully searing ache the entire exchange produced in her heart. She glanced over sideways, giving a gentle sigh as Max wrapped her arms around her, planting a head on her shoulder.

"You knew? The whole time?"

"Yeah." Chloe murmured. She still wasn't happy, having to hurt her little girl like that, but she understood it was for the best.

"I should be just as furious at you as I am at her, you know." Chloe felt her kiss her neck, softening the words.

"I know. Sorry. I had to build up her moment of triumph in order to sharpen the sting of her fall, and no offense, baby. I love you with all my heart, so you understand what it means when I say you fucking suck at acting." She tossed a playful wink, and tried to lean in and steal a kiss from Max, who jerked back for a moment, shaking her head, before pausing and then relenting.

"Sorry. I know sometimes I've been really shitty when it comes to not being - ah - as strict as you are. It's tempting to just let her get what she wanted, especially when tats these days can be taken off in a few minutes, but it was the principal of the thing, yeah? She asked you...okay, she asked us something, we told her no, she did it anyhow. I know sometimes you feel like it's just you alone out there, laying down the law. Early anniversary gift; I wanted to remind you that I have your back. I'll always have your back. She traced her fingers down that back, until it came across Max's rear, gently lifting and pulling her into her lap.

Max sighed delicately, wrapping arms around her neck. "She's gonna hate you for weeks. You know that? She always figured you were wrapped around her little finger."

Chloe shrugged, twitching her pursed lips. "Yeah, well. She still does. But I'm also still her father. That, and someone already has a bigger, better claim to my heart."

Their lips met, sharing a few tender, intimate kisses. While the frenetic passion of their youth might be a thing of the past, their mutual love was stronger than ever.

"Besides," Chloe whispered. "Think of it this way. For once, you get to be the one that goes up to her room in a little while and softens the blow."

Max blinked. "Oh my God. I do. For once, I so totally do." She turned and hugged her tightly.

Chloe went back to chewing her faux-bacon, a triumphant grin on her lips. "You're welcome, babe."

November 2050

Life seemed stable, pleasant even, as of late. And these were usually the moments that Chloe found herself on the lookout for some great plot complication or difficulty to meet head on. It was a product of her double existence as both a politician and a parent, and God knows sometimes she had trouble figuring out where one ended and the other began.

All the same, Chloe was determined to make the best of the lull in activity that the last week in November brought about; past the frenetic action of yet another successful campaign for re-election, beyond the familial expectations and responsibilities brought about by the Thanksgiving holiday season.

It was a cool, calm, Monday evening in the Price-Caulfield homestead, just after dinner. Rachel was well into her senior year at Blackwell, already preparing to spend her Christmas break sending out college essays and applications, although truth be told, there was really only one place she had her heart set on. But the start of the last year of high school seemed to bring a change out in Chloe's daughter, a pivot into the beginnings of actual young adulthood. The three of them agreed to send Rachel out for the previous Summer months to a "college camp" program run by the University of Washington, specifically designed to give high school juniors and seniors a taste of college life: living in a dorm room, taking responsibility for meals and studying, and overall getting a sense of what awaited them if they took that actual step towards higher education.

Rachel came back transformed; not radically so, not a completely different person. But certainly calmer. More responsible. Where as before, Chloe was used to steeling herself for the hot-and-cold running relationship between mother and daughter that colored Rachel's teenage years, the two of them were now getting along well, genuinely so. Her grades were the best they'd ever been, and she was excelling with her artistic and extracurricular pursuits as well as her academics.

Chloe paused for a moment, as the weight of it struck her, all at once.

Her little girl was all grown up.

To be sure, there would be days to come, no doubt, where Rachel would ask her for advice. Confide in her, cry on her shoulder. Maybe get into trouble, and need to be bailed out. But the child who happily played pirates with her for hours on end, who cried herself sick when her dog went missing, or screamed with indignant frustration when her attempts to sneak out of the house ended up in yet another grounding finally faded away. The innocent waif, coloring on her tablet, drawing pictures, excitingly dragging both father and mother to look at her latest creations, lived wholly and utterly in the past now.

Chloe bowed her head, peering at the glass of dessert wine she was nursing.

God. I really don't remember getting older. Where did the time go?

She didn't notice Max, until the other woman sat down next to her, placing a couple of plates of key lime pie before them. "Hey sweetie. Are you okay?"

"Hmmm?" Chloe blinked, snapping her head up. "Oh. Oh yeah, I'm fine. Just, pensive, I guess. thinking about Rachel. I can't believe it, she's almost off to college."

Max laughed lightly, "I don't know about 'almost'. She does have most of a year of high school to get through, you know."

Chloe shook her head, poking at Max's ribs playfully. "You know what I mean. It all went by so quickly. This chapter of our lives, the one where we had this beautiful little girl, and raised her up. It's almost over. I wish I...I wish I'd paid more attention, while it was happening. Stopped and enjoyed it, smelled the roses. I don't know. I feel like I'm about to lose something I can't get back, and only now do I realize, too late, how special it was." She took a deep breath, and stared straight ahead. "Was I a good father, Max? Was there more I could have done? Is it too late to..." She laughed once, blinking her eyes quickly, to keep them from tearing up. "I feel like I'm losing my daughter, and she hasn't even gone anywhere."

Max kissed her cheek, reaching over to squeeze her hand. "Oh my God, listen to you. A glass of muscat and you sound like you're gonna burst out into a maudlin rendition of 'Sunrise, Sunset'".

She leaned in close, feeding her a piece of pie. "So no, Chloe Price-Caulfield, you were, and you still are, an awesome father. She's always been daddy's special girl from the beginning, and she probably always would be, even if you hadn't been home all those years from the start for her. But even with the craziness of being in Congress, you always made sure to have time for her. You did your best to get to every play and recital. You totally blew off those committee meetings to sit by her bedside when she got that really bad case of mono. And played peacemaker through the years she and I were going at it." She shook her head again, "No, baby. You did everything you could, and then more. We have a pretty amazing daughter. And she may be grown up, but you're always going to be her Daddy."

"Plus, you know." she continued, her voice dropping lower, throaty. "Once Rachel takes off to college, we can finally look into traveling the world. You know, the way we talked about?" Chloe brightened up considerably at this, nodding, leaning in to nuzzle her nose against her wife's. As much bittersweetness as her daughter's transition to adulthood brought, it was readily tempered by the excitement that a new chapter in life held, barely a year from now. She was already making noises about this being her last term in office, and Max could easily take a year's sabbatical from school. The promise of getting reacquainted with her wife of thirty-one years did much to lift her spirits.

"You know, speaking of travel and Rachel heading off to school, I was thinking...assuming she keeps her grades up and all, let's get her an aircar, you know? One of those new autonomous quadcopter things."

Max blanched, "Oh lord sweetie. Really?"

"What, you don't think we're spoiling her, do you? I mean, if she earns it, she earns it..."

"No no." Max said. "I don't disagree, it's just...I don't trust those things. Like, at all."

Chloe laughed. "Yeah, that's because we're the horse and buggy generation, babydoll. I mean, what, those things have safety chutes in them. Imagine how popular she'll be if she could just dart off to...uh...to wherever, just for the day. Er..." she stammered, losing her train of thought. "I mean, if she ends up, you know, exactly where she has her heart set, it would make it easier for her to come and visit for the weekend."

"It would, at that..." Max mused.

But before the pair of them could continue, Rachel walked in the door, calling out. "Hey! I'm home. Thanks for letting me eat at Diana's, I think we got most of the work done for our final group presentation. Whew!" She quickly made her way over to the dining room, sparkly, emerald-hued locks glinting in the light from the fixtures above. She smiled eagerly, as she sat down at the other end of the table. "Oh! Hey, pie. Can I have some?"

"Of course!" Max got up, and cut her a slice, laying it out before her.

"Thanks, Mom." Rachel softly said. Then grinned mischievously. "How about some wine. Can I get a glass too, Dad?"

Chloe rolled her eyes, snorting bemusedly. She pushed over her mostly empty glass in her direction. "You can finish this. Doesn't exactly go with lime, though."

"Wow. That's really sweet. The wine, I mean." Rachel remarked, after quickly downing what dregs remained. "I could probably appreciate it better if I had a little more." Chloe gave her a disbelieving look, prompting her daughter to laugh. "Just trolling, Dad."

The three of them settled in, eating their dessert and making pleasant small talk until Rachel finally cleared her throat, speaking up.

"So...I wanted to ask. I mean, there's someone at school, someone I like. You know, double-like? Can I invite them over for dinner later this week?" She gave a nervous roll of her shoulders. "Gleesh, sounds kinda formal, huh?

Wait, what?

This was the first that Chloe was hearing about Rachel expressing any sort of presumably romantic interest in anyone. Ever. She always assumed her daughter was a late bloomer, and given her own rush into any number of disreputable hook-ups and short, tempestuous affairs before she finally settled down with Max, she wasn't inclined to take any sort of interest in why her daughter was or wasn't dating until now. Oh sure, maybe she asked Max once or twice about it, but they agreed it was something they ought to let her come around to in her own good time.

She racked her brain, trying to figure out who the young woman might have taken a shine to. Since most days,Rachel either carpooled with her mother, or rode her own motorscooter to school, it wasn't like Chloe had the chance to pick her up at school. Although now that she was putting brain cells to the task, she could have sworn she always saw Rachel hanging out with a pair of kids of Indian descent, male and female, the few times she caught glimpses of her after some sort of sporting event or school presentation.

"Oooooh!" Max chimed in, giving their daughter a knowing look. "I bet I know exactly who it is, too."

"Mooooom!" Rachel laughed, blushing as she bowed her head halfway, smiling all the while.

"I thought I saw you spending an awful lot of time with Sandi Choudry. That's who it is, right? Riiiight?" Max leaned in, teasing playfully.

Sandy? Sandy?! Hey! That's...that's a girl's name, right? Oh! Of course! No wonder Rachel took her time. No wonder she never dated until now. She was obviously trying to figure out how she felt about...oh kiddo! I wish you would have come to your Mom and me, to talk about this kind of thing. Probably convinced yourself you had to take your time, you didn't want to assume you were gay just because you were the daughter of a same sex couple. Ha! This is great! My little Rachel, bringing home her first girlfriend. And whoa, she was really cute, too. Not like I was paying too much attention, at the time but...

"Well, great!" Chloe suddenly burst out. "This is great. Yes, of course! Tell her to come on over for dinner. I'd love to meet Sandy!"

As one, Max and Rachel came to an abrupt halt in their eager chatter. Each wore identical expressions of confusion and trepidation as they turned their focused attention on Chloe.

"Uh...Dad...?"

"Oh. Oh God, Chloe..no. Sweetie, Sandi is..."

"It's short. Y'know, for Sandeep."

"Yes. Sandeep Choudry. He's in my hologramatic art class. Super-smart kid...er..boy...sorry, guy! And he's..."

"Whoa! Whoa whoa whoa. Wait. Wait just a damn...a guy?!" Chloe held up her hands in protest, head reeling from the sudden mental whiplash. "But, wait, no, I seriously...I saw you with a girl as well. I mean, that's Sandy, right?" Chloe protested, in violation of obvious common sense.

"Ohm-G, Dad! Shakti? That's his sister! You thought I was crushing on Shakti?!" Rachel said, clearly trying not to laugh. "Dad, she's one of my best friends. That's how I met her brother."

"Since when?!" Chloe protested.

"Since the start of the school year? Shakti's ultra-schway, she and her family moved here from New York, 'cause I think her Mom works for AkashaDyne as some sorta materials engineer? And her Dad does tech-nu-raga music, you should hear him on this crazy computerized sitar thing of his...

Oh my God. What the fuck? I...here I was, wondering if I've been a bad parent, and I don't even know what's going on in my own kids life?!

"Ahem! Okay, wait." Chloe said, suppressing the curious urge to catch her breath. "Okay, wait. This...this is different! I didn't realize this was some teenage boy you were wanting to bring home. And start dating! I mean, as a beginning...well..." Chloe grappled for the right words, decades of political speechmaking utterly failing her at the moment. "You're still so young, and I think maybe this is too quick! I'd like to find out a lot more about this boy, a lot more, and..."

"Dad! What the hellza?! A second ago, you sounded like you were ready to send out wedding e-vites when you thought it was Shakti!"

Chloe reached up, tugging at her hair, grown up to her shoulders by now, stilled dyed black with royal blue bangs, a trademark she couldn't bring herself to abandon. She avoided looking at her daughter's baleful expression, casting about for a little sympathy and help from Max.

Her darling, wonderful wife Max, who was clearly going to be on her side and...no? Oh hell, the one with the biggest, cat-who-ate-the-canary smile. Who immediately started softly humming the chorus to Joe Jackson's "It's Different For Girls". It was a teasing prod, a humorous reminder of a rather stoned conversation the two of them once had about five years ago - not long after Miranda Chase came out to her mother - when they began to speculate on what Rachel's sexual orientation might ultimately shape up to be; Chloe might - or might not - have said something to the effect of "I hope she ends up gay. Because you know, it's different if she's dating girls."

Rachel crossed her arms, narrowed her eyes, and said, "So what's the problem?"

Chloe immediately began to speak, without taking the time to actually analyze her feelings, or consider the ramifications of what she was saying, "It's...it's complicated, Rachel! I've been with guys and I've been with girls. And I settled on the best one." She glanced over at Max, who smiled at the flattery, but still shook a finger in her direction. "But, the way it goes, you know? There's different things to consider, if you're with a woman, as opposed to a man. Because guys. Boys. Teenage boys! At that age! They've only got one thing on their mind, and...and...and I might also point out that there's credible scientific evidence that girls are mature, much more mature, at that age than boys. As your Father, I'd be doing a shitty job..."

"Chloe!" Max admonished.

"...if I didn't look out for you. Because yeah...it's different. It's...different." Chloe concluded.

Already she began to regret it. The look that Rachel gave her. Tinged with shock, like she was seeing something new, and altogether unpleasant in her.

"Wattyeff?!" Rachel exclaimed. "I can't believe it." She threw up her hands, then planted her fists on her hips, leaning in close. "I can't believe you, Dad! I thought you were all open minded, and cool and liberal and all that other stuff you and Mom try to tell me I should be. But look at you! You're like...you're just...you're acting like some bigoted heterophobe or something! Like what is this, reverse Jim Crow? Are you gonna start channeling Valerie Solanas, next?"

Chloe sputtered, "Now - whu - hey! - just - I! - Gah! Okay! First off...I have no clue who the hell that's supposed to be."

"Ch'eez Dad, I know it was almost a million years ago, but read a book."

"But seriously! I am not a...I'm not a bigot! Damnit! I'm the new leader of the Northwestern Congressional Neo-Progressive Caucus, for fuck's sake! " Chloe was angry now. Furious. She just wasn't sure who at, exactly, but she had a growing suspicion.

"Chloe!" Max chided anew.

Throwing her hands up, she rose from the table, pulled out her debit chip, and swiped it several times across the reader of the electronic 'swear jar' sitting on the kitchen counter. "There, fucking paid for the next few in advance, as well. Now young lady, I'm not some close-minded, mouth breathing, hateful retro..."

"Prove it." Rachel interjected.

"What?"

"Prove it. It's easy. I'm not gonna run off and have his sixty jillion kids tomorrow or something, Dad. I like the guy. He is sweet, and smart, and funny, and treats me nicer than almost anyone else. And you should see him playing soccer, oh boy." Rachel started to rub her bicep as she made her argument, cheeks flushing. "And I want you to meet him, because I think you'd like him, too! And his family, they're chill. You know, assuming you aren't too busy declaring our house some sort of radical separatist compound..."

Chloe walked back, with careful, measured steps, returning to her seat. It was all of fives seconds before her shoulders and head slumped forward.

...fuck! Look at me. Look at what I'm doing. How did this happen? When did I get so old, set in my ways? How did I just fall into this trap?

She stared down at herself, in the reflection from the silverware, and for the first time, truly saw the lines of age etched on her face. It'd happened so slowly, she never really noticed until this moment. Not that she had anything to be ashamed of; every crows foot, every laugh line, every wrinkle was earned, the hard way. They were her badges of honor, her battle scars, her reward for making it this far.

But she never really felt them, until this moment.

Chloe Price, you are a lot of things...

...but she sure as hell was no shameless hypocrite.

Looking back up, she nodded once. "I apologize, Rachel. You're right. It's just that..." Chloe paused, then changed tracks. "You know what? I'm not even going to try and make excuses. I got into a weird, stupid place a minute ago. Of course your Mom and I want to meet the guy who's got your attention. I should be happy that you want to bring someone home, someone you're dating. I mean, hell, I never was with anyone I wanted to actually show off to my folks until..."

"...until me, obviously." Max said with a lilting laugh.

"So yes, please. Invite him over. Thursday good?"

"Yes!" Rachel triumphantly rose to her feet, and for the moment, it seemed all was forgiven. She walked over, wrapped her arms tightly around her father's neck, and kissed her cheek. "Thanks, Daddy! I'm gonna text him right now." She darted out of the dining room, pulling out her phablet.

"Ask him what he'd like for dinner!" Max called out, and then trailed off softly. "More than happy to figure out how to cook Indian, but I don't...I mean, that seems oddly condescending?" She asked, turning to Chloe.

"Hey, we'll figure it out."

Max leaned over, kissing her other cheek. "He really is a lovely young man, Che. I can't fault Rachel's tastes, and I think they would make an absolutely wonderful couple. Believe me, I know it's a shock, but I'm sure you'll get over it, and learn to keep loving our daughter, even though she's..." at this she put a hand to her forehead and mock gasped. "...straight!"

Chloe grumbled at first, then cracked a slight smile. "She could still turn out to be bi, you know?"

"Yeah, you keep reaching for those stars, lover."

Rising up to her feet, Chloe said, "But, just to be safe, all the same...excuse me, I need to make a private call." And in a rush, she was out of the kitchen.

"Chloe!" Max called out. "What the...what the hell are you doing? Who are you going to call?"

"I'll be back in a few minutes!"

Max sat there, finishing off her slice of pie, and fearing the worst. She'd just gotten up to make herself a cup of coffee when Chloe came back out, with a mildly chastened, sheepish expression on her face.

"So what was that about?"

"Uhhh..." Chloe started to answer, rubbing the back of her head. "I kinda put a call in. Straight to Camilla Davies' office."

Max blinked. "For cereal? Jeez Chloe, the Director of the FBI?"

"Uh. Huh. Yeah!" Chloe gave a single nervous laugh. "Wouldn't you know it, I'm apparently not the first Congressperson to ask the FBI to run a background check on their daughter's new boyfriend. Like...even this week."

"Oh...sweetie." Max walked over, wrapping her arms tightly around her wife. "You're adorable when you try to abuse your political powers."

"Got a whole department, you know? That handles that kind of stuff." Chloe responded, leaning in to nuzzle back."

"Hah. Baby, it really isn't the end of the world." Max chided.

"I know. I know, I know. Um. How about we go out, yeah? I know you just made coffee, but there's that new cafe in town, and I'd really like it if we just went there and hung out. And we could spend an hour or two pretending that I'm not this horrible dinosaur, behind the times, totally-not-with-it overprotective parent."

"Hon? You're a wonderful father. Definitely not a dinosaur. Neanderthal, though? Yeah, definitely."

Chloe gave Max a playful swat on the rear before they quickly announced their intentions to their daughter and headed off.

A/N: I can't remember exactly when I figured that Rachel and Chloe would get into this weird reversed bit with her orientation, but I remember knowing it was definitely going to happen. The bit with Chloe calling the FBI afterwards to do a background check on her daughter's new beau? That actually was a LOT more fleshed out in my mind, and was going to turn into this lengthy bit, but when the time came to do it, I realized that it was just going to kind of go over like a lead balloon, and just drag the chapter out at a point where it'd reached it's natural conclusion. So I leave it up to you to imagine the kind of conversation Chloe and the Director of the FBI had. :-D

It's also funny (to me, at any rate) that for the last three chapters, I've been saying "There's only three chapters left to the story." I still feel like that's true, but we'll see how that holds up. What was supposed to be one chapter appears to be taking three.

Anyhow, have a great night, kids!