8. Bearing the consequences

Frog, she was such a coward.

She knew doing the right thing was hard. It had taken her years of toxic manipulation, her best friend calling her a horrible person to her face and seeing her girlfriend being impaled by a sword to realize this truth. She had made an oath at that time to become a better person … and all in all, Sasha would say that she had succeeded. And yet here she was, standing next to her car, not knowing where to drive next, only knowing where not to: home.

She rubbed her forehead, groaning. She had woken up with the vague hope that all of it had just been a dream and that the real dinner hadn't taken place yet. No such luck. Marcy had still been sleeping next to her, her green dress from the dinner evening lying on the floor next to the bed, snoring softly. Dread had washed over her when she had realized what she had to do as soon as Marcy woke up. That conversation would be bad no matter what she did until it happened, so she had decided to at least shower, brush her teeth and get some coffee. For a moment she had pondered if she should kiss Marcy on the cheek since it would probably the last time ever, but then she had decided against it. It wouldn't have been right, for whatever that was worth considering what had happened yesterday. She had tiptoed out of her bedroom.

Anne had been waiting for her outside, sitting at the table. Sasha's heart had sunken even lower. For some reason she had hoped that at least this discussion wouldn't happen, at least not this morning, but there was a certain irony in the fact that Anne had remembered Sasha's diagnosis, that running away had been the wrong thing last time. The Thai woman had still looked bad, if a little more composed that a few hours ago. Sasha had wanted to hug her so bad, for the vague hope that it would make both of them feel better, but she had chickened out. On the contrary, she had sat down on the other side of the table. She hadn't thought that they could have fucked up the situation even more, but she had been done tempting fate. Anne had agreed wordlessly.

Then they had talked, quietly and not for very long. It hadn't taken them long to agree that both of them were to blame, and that it wasn't for them to decide who, if any, was more at fault. That would be poor Marcy's job. They had also concurred that, tempting as it was, the wine hadn't been to blame. It might have influenced them a little, but neither of them had been truly drunk. They had only disagreed about who should be the one to break Marcy's heart. Ironically enough, each of them had felt the obligation to do it. Anne had argued that she had initiated the kiss. Sasha had countered that the sparring, which had been the cause of all of it, had been her idea. Then Anne had made the proposition to take all the blame so that Sasha could stay with Marcy, since she would need one of them at least. And that had been the end of it because every fiber of Sasha's being had revolted against the idea of living such a huge lie while Anne would have to suffer Marcy's wrath alone. She had told Anne to go home. She was Marcy's girlfriend – no matter how guilty Anne was, at the end of the day it was Sasha's job to tell Marcy the truth. After that it would be out of their hands. Marcy would have to decide their fate alone. They had lost every right to influence her. Anne hadn't liked that idea. At all. But she had been too emotionally spent to argue any longer. She had just nodded and … had left. Hanging shoulders. No look back. No goodbye. Sasha's heart had cried out to at least SAY something, but she had been silent. Nothing she could have said would have made a difference.

Then she had showered, brushed her teeth and drunken a coffee. And a second one. And she had gotten more and more nervous. It was right that way. It WAS her duty to confess to Marcy. But 50 minutes later, when Marcy had finally waddled out of the bedroom, groaning, but still managing a smile for her girlfriend, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek and telling her that she would like a coffee too after showering, and then maybe some cuddling … it had been too much. She had waited until Marcy had started showering, then she had grabbed the car keys and had fled.

That had been three hours ago. She had left her phone at home intentionally, so Marcy couldn't find her. She knew there was a good chance that Marcy would call Anne, but she hoped beyond hope that Anne wouldn't touch her phone either this day. She hoped too that Marcy wouldn't visit Anne at home, since it was Sunday, but would wait for her. And that she wouldn't call the cops. She sighed and got into the car again. Oh yes, she was a coward. She knew very well that this would only delay the inevitable, and only for a few hours. She hadn't even dealt with what had happened herself yet – so how could she answer Marcy's questions now? On the other hand, she wasn't sure how long it would take for her to come to terms with all of this. Longer than today was a given. A picture of Grime, looking at her disappointed, flashed through her mind. Her old mentor would probably tell her to "man" up and get the job done, since it wouldn't get easier.

Easy for him to say when the truth was the she couldn't even stop thinking about Anne. How stunning she had looked when she had arrived for dinner, in her sleeveless top that left so much of her deliciously dark skin free to look at and those not quite skin-tight pants. How they had fought, especially the little hints that Anne had enjoyed their sparring match too, not just her. The rain running down her sad face. And the kiss … frog, the kiss …

Sasha pressed her eyes shut. How was she supposed to talk to Marcy like that? And the worst thing of all was, despite how obvious it was that she still desired Anne, even more so now that she knew that Anne felt the same, she knew that Marcy was good for her. The lovable little nerd had brought an element of uncertainty into her life that Sasha strangely enjoyed. Although not a control freak anymore, she still enjoyed a certain amount of order and predictability in her life. Marcy was … chaos. Sure, her projects like the Azura book needed some structure, but she never could focus on them too long and surprised Sasha with another idea of what to do, be it playing a game, going out, ordering take-out and watching a movie, suddenly making out and cuddling, talking about whatever her current interest was or showing interest in whatever Sasha was doing and trying to help. Sasha had been surprised how relaxing and amusing it was to simply stop her own activities and go along with her girlfriend, when it had felt annoying with other partners. It also helped that Marcy was a natural fit for Sasha's protective streak. The black-haired girl needed stability and encouragement in her life to keep her uncertainties in check, and Sasha was more than happy to provide just that. They had been together for only a few months, but Marcy had been a wonderful partner … and now she was about to end that.

She started the car with a grim expression and began to drive. She had actively avoided thinking about Marcy's reaction until now. But at this moment, with nothing but road to look at, her mind started working against her will. Would they break up? A near certainty. Would Marcy move? Where? Anne? Nope, not likely. Other friends? Sasha didn't think that Marcy knew anyone in L.A. with a spare room. Renting her own space? Too expensive for Marcy. Moving back to her parents? That … was a probability, although not a good one. They hadn't told the Wu's about their relationship yet. If Marcy moved back … well, they would surely think that they had been in the right all along, that Marcy should have never moved out. And well … at that point, Marcy might actually agree. That would probably not only be the end of their relationship, but also their friendship too. A thought that caused her stomach to revolt, but she controlled herself. Whatever happened now, she wouldn't fight it.

It took her 40 minutes to reach her normal parking space, yet she still felt not ready to go home. She let her eye wander … and had an idea. The bar where the three of them had celebrated Anne's birthday wasn't far away. It was closed right now, but she knew the owner, having jobbed there for a few months while studying, and that he lived above it. She probably had enough money to bribe him to give her a few drinks, just enough to calm her nerves a bit. It wasn't a good idea, hell no. But nothing in this situation was. She apologized to Marcy in her thoughts – probably for the 73rd time this morning –, locked her car and went to the bar.

At this point Marcy was considering hiring a private investigator. No, she couldn't afford it. No, she had no clue what had actually happened. But her girlfriend had vanished without a trace, and Anne had shut off her phone too, for whatever reason. She had considered driving over to the Boonchuy residence, but if something had happened to Anne, her parents would have called her already, knowing that she had been here the night before. And she wouldn't know what had happened to Sasha, having already been gone when she had briefly seen Sasha in the morning. It had been nearly half a day now, and she figured time in abduction cases was critical and the police was always understaffed and overworked, so a private investigator was her best shot. Maybe she could sell some of Sasha's …

That's when the door opened. She jumped up from the couch, twirling around. Her eyes went from desperation to joy in mere milliseconds when she saw who it was.

"Sasha!"

Her girlfriend stumbled when she crashed into her, only the door behind her keeping her from falling over.

"Marce ..."

"Where were you? Did something happen to you? Why didn't you call? I was so worried, I nearly hired a PI! Why did you leave your phone? Are you hurt? Oh, I'm so glad you're okay ..."

"Marcy ..."

Suddenly Marcy smelled it. Having recently showered away the scent of someone who had been drunk shortly before from her own body, Sasha's breath clearly indicated that she had chugged some high-proof stuff just recently. Normally the blonde was very stable on her feet, but now she was swaying. Her eyes were dull and while normally Sasha was quite jovial when she was drunk, which didn't happen often because of her high tolerance, she now looked at Marcy with a sad expression.

"Sasha, why are you drunk? What happened?"

"Made a m'stake," Sasha mumbled, trying to caress Marcy's cheek, still looking somber. "Really bad one."

Marcy didn't think for long. She put Sasha's arm around her shoulders to sustain her. "Come, let's move you to the couch. Then tell me what happened."

"'kay. So sorry, Marcy."

"Don't talk. Move!"

This was definitely not how she had envisioned this morning. The hangover had been a given, sadly – when would she learn to listen to her friends when they told her to stop drinking? Even now she still had a minor headache, but worrying about Sasha had cured most of her condition instantly. And now this? The last time she had seen Sasha drunk had been on Anne's birthday, and it hadn't been as bad as it was now. Sasha loved to party sometimes, but knew her limits very well. Something really bad had to have happened.

"Sashy, please talk to me," she pleaded, feeling Sasha's temperature. Normal, she guessed. "What happened?"

"'m an idiot, Marcy," Sasha uttered, evading her gaze. "I'm a bad person. Did someth'n … really bad."

"Why? What did you do, Sash? Please tell me," she requested urgently. She was slowly getting scared. She sat down next to Sasha, hugging her. "I won't be mad."

"Ya will. Happened yessaday. When you were 'sleep." Sasha looked at her for a moment, then she hiccuped and averted her gaze again. "Anne 'n I were fighting. Bammoo swords on the roof. And she asked me if I had a crush 'n her … ya know, back then. An' then she told me that she liked me too … and she had fannasies." She looked at Marcy again. "Did ya know that? That she had fantasies 'bout us too? Sex'al ones?"

"Uhmm … no?" Marcy blinked. She was getting more and more confused. She didn't like this talk about crushes … but if she understood it right, Sasha was talking about a situation years ago, not now. So what else had happened?

"Me neither," Sasha said, thinking for a moment. "Wait … where was I?"

"Anne had fantasies," Marcy provided.

"Oh yeah." Sasha paused for a moment and flinched. "She was cryin' … was bad. Rain. We went inside 'gain … towels. 'n then she asked me to tell her why I was crushin' on her." She shook her head. "Was weird." Marcy agreed, but didn't interrupt her. Instead she started rubbing Sasha's chest soothingly since the other woman was shivering slightly. "N then … I told her. How amazing she was … in Amwibia and now. That she 'nspired me. Became better cause of her. She was cryin' still … Marbles, it's bad, I'm bad ..."

"It's okay, Sasha," she soothed her girlfriend. "Just tell me everything."

Sasha's eyes became wet and she hanged her head. "... She kissed me, Marce. Anne kissed me real hard. 'N I kissed her back."

Her hand stopped moving. Her body went stiff. An ice-cold shiver ran down her spine. No. No! Nonononono! She hadn't just heard that. "What … did you just say?"

"I'm so sorry, Marce … we kissed. Not long, jus' a minute … but ..."

"No!" Marcy stood up abruptly. She stared at the door of the study. "I can't listen to this!"

"Marce, please, 'm sorry ..."

She moved way too fast for Sasha to stop her. She heard the other woman stand up and follow her, but the door was closed and locked before Sasha could reach it. Marcy sank to the ground, her back still touching the door. This wasn't happening … this was a dream, just a bad dream, just a part of her hangover …

"Marcy!" Sasha banged on the door. "I ruin'd everything. I know. I'm a moron. But I love ya, Marcy."

"No, you don't." Marcy buried her face in her arms. She briefly considered if she should even try holding back the tears, but she decided against it.

"I do … I love that you're soft … I love how ya giggle when I kiss you … I love how ya talk so fast when you're 'xited … I love it when you surprise me 'n make me laugh … I love ya so much, Marcy ..."

"If you loved me, you wouldn't have kissed Anne!" she shouted. It sounded muffled because her face was still hidden behind her arms and knees. Her body was shaking because of the sobs. This wasn't fair, this just wasn't fair … not them … not them!

Now there was a sob on the other side too. "I know … I fucked up, Marce ..." A bang on the door. "Fucked up … 'm sorry ..."

"Why, Sasha?" She didn't even try to hide how broken her voice sounded. She held her face up high again, banging it against the door, her eyes closed, but her tears flowing. "Why?"

"I love you, Marce," Sasha repeated. She sounded tired. "But I want Anne too … I can' help it."

"That's impossible."

"'s what she said too."

Marcy took a deep breath. She couldn't deal with this right now. "I won't talk to you anymore," she declared. "Go away, Sasha. Go to sleep."

"No, no, Marcy, please ..."

"Be quiet! I won't talk to you anymore. I will think. I will think about everything. And when I come out, we'll talk. Not now."

"Marce ..."

Silence. And another sob from the other side.

"Marce … don' blame Anne, please. She's jus' lonely … is my fault. Please blame me."

Silence.

"Do you hate me? Ya should. I'm fucked up."

Silence.

"Okay. I'll go. 'm sorry, Marce. So sorry."

Marcy listened. She heard how Sasha's steps became more quiet, heard her open the bedroom door, curse and then close it again. She waited. Then, when she was sure that Sasha wasn't outside anymore, she buried her head again. Everything seemed distant right now … like nothing mattered anymore. But she was smart. She knew things still mattered. She just needed to sort things out. Find out what she really wanted. That was better than focusing on the pain inside of her chest. So she started to think …

She couldn't remember when she had last felt so bad, even though the hangover as gone. Maybe in Wartwood, when she had found Anne's diary. But back then things had become better, and she wasn't sure than would happen today. She had gone to bed, like Marcy said, and had slept. She had awoken at night, taken a shower and gone to bed again. At morning she had not seen Marcy. She had probably come out sometime to eat, but had clearly decided to stay in her study. She had done nothing to disturb her. Bad enough that she had confessed to her while being hammered, she would do nothing to justify her actions now. Marcy knew enough. She owed it to her to give her all the time she needed. She had gone to work, come back, had dinner alone, tried to read something, hadn't been able to concentrate, had watched something on her phone and went to bed.

Where she was now. She had cried, she wasn't ashamed of that. Nearly one and a half days since Marcy had fortified herself in her room, complete with radio silence. A part of her was glad that her girlfriend was taking this so seriously, even proud that she wasn't rushing this decision. It was the very grown-up thing to do that her parents didn't think Marcy was capable of. Another part just wanted it to be over, no matter the outcome. She had thought about Anne. She had thought about her life with Marcy. Both things hurt, but not thinking about them … that's probably what she would try and fail to do after Marcy broke up with her.

How had it come to this? Sasha had always liked to be in charge, but even after her lessons in humility and true friendship in Amphibia she had prided herself on her self-control. She took good care of her body, she usually drank responsibly, her finances were okay, she let no one walk all over her while giving others the space they wanted … so why was her love life such a mess? First she hadn't had the guts to confess to Anne as a teen. Then she had had some semi-serious relationships and flings, as normal for a growing girl, yet a good amount of them didn't end so well, for one reason or another. And now, after finding something special with her girlfriend … she had nearly immediately cheated on her with her long-time crush.

Sasha covered her eyes with her arm. Would it be that bad at this point if they just left each other's lives again? The emotional damage so far was spectacular in her professional opinion. Maybe an uneventful love life wasn't as undesirable as she had always thought. She was sick and tired of hurting her friends, and if that was the price to pay for them to be at least okay … Was there even a chance that their friendship could survive this? When she and Anne had talked about a potential break-up they hadn't thought about cheating within their little group. It had been such a ridiculous prospect hat the possibility hadn't even occurred to them. Even more ridiculous than Marcy's idea of letting Azura fight this dollar note demon she had named "Will Chiffre" in her planned third book …

The door creaked open. Sasha's neck protested when her head shot up. It was Marcy, of course. She was looking at Sasha with a … mixed expression. Some sadness, anger, determination, hurt … those and other emotions, in which exact combination Sasha couldn't say. She somehow looked … older. Probably because Sasha had destroyed a part of her girlfriend's childlike optimism, she thought, feeling a pang in her heart. Marcy was wearing her pajama. A small indication that she didn't feel comfortable enough to be naked around her. She deserved that.

Sasha moved to the side, creating enough space if Marcy intended to use the bed. She didn't dare say anything though. Whatever happened now was still for Marcy to decide. She looked down in shame, waiting for the other woman to react. A few more moments went by, then Marcy approached the bed and lied down, turning her back on Sasha. She didn't say a word. Sasha had been nervous before, and this silent treatment didn't help with that at all. She fidgeted.

"Stop it!"

She immediately stopped, but Marcy didn't say anything else. She felt lost, having no idea what Marcy expected her to do. She swallowed. "Do … you want me to talk?"

"No," Marcy denied, still not facing her. "I will ask questions. I'm figuring out which ones are important."

"Alright." And to think that not so long ago she had been interested in how a more dominant Marcy would turn out to be in bed. Needless to say, she didn't enjoy any of this. After a short moment of hesitation she turned her back on Marcy too. Maybe that's what she wanted. She didn't know. All she could do was wait.

"Was there more than one kiss?"

Sasha winced. She was pretty much a bundle of nerves right now. Grime would be ashamed of her. "No," she answered truthfully. "There wasn't."

"Was there anything else after? Or before?"

"No."

Silence.

"Please don't blame Anne," Sasha pleaded. She knew staying silent would have been the better option, but she couldn't help it. "She was ..."

"Don't talk." Pause. "Did you drink any more wine after me falling asleep?"

Sasha closed her eyes. "No."

"So you were not drunk."

"... No. Just tipsy."

Another long pause.

"Did you enjoy it?"

She gritted her teeth. She you hear the hurt in Marcy's voice.

"It was a mistake, Marcy," she tried to evade the question. No such luck.

"I don't care. Answer the question!"

Sasha took a deep breath. No way out. "Yes," she admitted. "It was … incredible. I'm sorry, Marcy."

She heard some shifting behind her, but she didn't move herself. Marcy was now looking at her exposed back. In other nights this would have been titillating, promising things to come, but now it did nothing to calm Sasha's already tortured nerves. "Do you want to kiss her again?"

Sasha groaned. "Please, Mar-Mar ..."

"Answer!"

"... yes, I do. But I won't."

"And if I broke up with you right now? What then?"

"No," she said decisively. She grabbed the bedsheets and balled her fists. She would NOT start sobbing! Not before Marcy was done! "However wonderful it was … it's tainted now. I'm sure Anne feels the same."

She could feel Marcy staring at her back, at her scar. She had no clue though what the young Asian was thinking. She just hoped that it would be over soon. She bit her lip when Marcy fell silent for nearly a minute. Suddenly she felt Marcy's hand on her back, causing her to exhale loudly.

"Turn around and hold me," Marcy ordered. She could be wrong, but had there been a slight quiver in her voice? Sasha hesitated. That she had already fucked up didn't mean she wanted the situation to become even worse.

"Do you really ..."

"Dammit Sash, hug me!"

Sasha did just that. She felt Marcy embrace her too and the smaller woman's cheek pressing against Sasha's chest. "Why?" she asked quietly.

"I'm so mad at you," she heard Marcy's voice. "I thought up dozens of ways to hurt you back yesterday. But … I still have other feelings too. I need to know how I feel when I'm this close to you."

This time she couldn't stop two tears leaving her eyes and making their way down to reach Marcy's hair. "I'm sorry," she breathed. "I know you won't believe me, but I never wanted to hurt you like this, Mar-Mar."

Marcy didn't answer, so they just stayed this way, sharing body warmth. Only this time it didn't bring any comfort. "I talked to my parents."

Sasha winced in surprise. "Oh. What … did you tell them?"

"Nearly everything. With the exception of the last two days. … Dad feels validated. Mom wants me to come home."

Sasha tried to calm her fast beating heart. "Do you want to?"

"No. That would just be running away like a child again. I told them that I would stay at least until this situation has been dealt with." She could feel Marcy taking a big breath on her skin. "That I would act like the adult they did not think I was."

"Wow." Through all the dread Sasha felt a certain amount of pride rise inside of her. She carefully, very carefully hugged Marcy closer and began to move her finger around the scar. "What … did they say?"

"I didn't let them talk over me," Marcy answered. There was a bit of pride in her voice as well. "I think dad … respected that. We will talk again."

"Good. Good."

She felt Marcy's embrace become tighter. "This doesn't work, Sash."

Sasha had felt heartbreak before. But not like this. Not like this. She felt like crying, but somehow she managed to compose herself. "Do … do you want us to break up?" she asked the question that had haunted her for the hours. "I don't … want to, Marcy. But I hurt you. Maybe we should."

"Maybe we should." Sasha felt Marcy's tears wetting her chest. She couldn't hold back a sob this time. "But … I missed you. I was so angry at you, but I also missed you. Your protective instinct. Your teasing. You making me leave my fantasy worlds willingly and eagerly. I'm torn, Sasha."

Sasha didn't know what to say. So she did nothing but continuing to hold her lover. She knew that her feelings for Anne had been strong and true when they had kissed, but now … while holding Marcy like this … she couldn't fathom how she could have forgotten her for even a second.

"You know what's really weird?" Marcy asked. "I think if you had kissed anyone but Anne … I would have been way more hurt. Does that make sense?"

Sasha couldn't help but let out a short laugh. "No," she admitted. "But that's nothing new for us."

"I should hate her right now. I tried to after you told me … but the only thing I can think about is that she has been hurt again."

"Please don't hate her," Sasha begged nearly automatically, hugging Marcy tighter, only to immediately reverse that when she heard a sound of protest. "I you want to hate anyone, hate me."

"You're defending her again." Was there an … amused tone in Marcy's voice? "You are waiting for me to decide if we should break up, and yet you are still willing to take all the blame. You really love her, don't you? You love Anne."

"Yes," Sasha admitted. "I do. But I don't want to lose you either, Marcy. I know it's selfish, but ..."

"It is," Marcy confirmed. "That has always been our problem, hasn't it? Making selfish decisions. And it was always Anne who suffered most." That made Sasha wince. It was true. "I think she was happiest when we were treating each other as true equals, wasn't she? After Amphibia?"

"Yes. That's all she ever wanted."

"I don't want to break up with you, Sash … I'm still angry at you, but I don't want to break up." Sasha felt a wave of relief flow through her body. But before she could say anything, Marcy continued: "But maybe … we need to become equals again."

For a moment she didn't understand. Then her eyes flew open. "Are you NUTS?" she blurted out.

"Careful," Marcy warned. This time Sasha was sure that her girlfriend was amused. "I could still change my mind about breaking up."

Sasha was way too stunned to joke. "Marcy … this isn't a web-comic. This is reality."

"Yes, a reality where all three of us were thrown into a dimension of anthropomorphic amphibians and where we had to fight against an evil hive mind and its frog robots."

Sasha's lips twitched, but this was serious. She pushed away Marcy softly and looked into her girlfriend's face. She could see the traces of many tears there … but also something she hadn't seen on Marcy's face very often. Determination. "Marcy … Mar-Mar … this would be even more complicated than our relationship right now. Do you WANT this?"

Marcy looked down shyly, and yet it didn't feel like her resolve had vanished. "I … think I do. I have thought a lot about her in the study. I feel bad when she suffers. I have a warm feeling when she is happy. I miss her laugh … her TRUE laugh, not those fake ones from the last weeks … when she is not here. I always feel the urge to ruffle through her hair when she is around." She blushed. "I've masturbated thinking about both of you … even both of you together. I love being with you both … and I don't know where the border between our friendship and romantic love is anymore. I don't know if there IS a difference anymore." She looked up. "What about you?"

Sasha licked her lips. This was … "I have strong feelings for Anne. That … is beyond discussion at this point. And the last hours were horrible. You have every right to break up with me, but I know that I would be heartbroken. I … I love you, Marcy. I don't want to lose you." Marcy's expression hadn't changed. Hopeful, determined, loving, hurt … "But this would be BIG. It would change everything."

Marcy's lips formed a crooked smile. "Are you scared, Commander?" she teased.

Sasha didn't know if she should cry or grin. She felt like both. She chose the latter. "Heck yes! I'm terrified of this going wrong! Of losing you ..." She paused. "Either … of you."

Marcy's glance became a little warmer … or was this just her imagination? "I'm scared too," she admitted, putting her hand on Sasha's chest, searching for her heartbeat. "But what choice do we really have, Sasha? If we do nothing … then we WILL lose her. For good."

Sasha stared at her girlfriend. When had Marcy become so headstrong? Wasn't SHE supposed to be the Champion of Strength? She was mesmerized by it. She took Marcy's hand and kissed the knuckles, still in a daze, her eyes never leaving Marcy's. "Then what shall we do?" she asked. "I must admit I'm overwhelmed … I thought that you'd break up with me, not … this. And you have obviously thought about this long and hard."

Marcy nodded. "I think I should be the one talking to her," she proposed. "She needs to know that I am not mad at her. Well … not TOO mad."

Sasha smiled, nodding. "Yeah … I agree. I think I still need some time to think about this, but … it kinda sounds like a dream come true. And it might very well be the last hope for any kind of relationship between all three of us. But, if I may … please don't kiss her immediately."

Marcy laughed. It was a wonderful sound. "What, you are allowed to kiss Anne and I am not?" she asked, shooting Sasha a fake glare. "I've been friends with her longer than you!" For a moment both of them enjoyed something between them that had been lost … a certain easiness emerging from trust. Then Marcy's smile became … sultry? "You know … you're asking very much of me. What do I get for NOT making out with my childhood friend?"

Sasha grinned. A true grin. She would have never thought that this night could turn out like this. She pulled Marcy closer again. "I'm not at my best right now," she admitted, her voice becoming a bit husky, causing this faint, adorable blush to appear on Marcy's cheeks. "But I think I can do one or two things that might be convincing." Her hand found Marcy's warm cheek. "Only if you still want me to."

Marcy didn't answer. Instead her arms reached around Sasha's neck and pulled her into a kiss. It wasn't really passionate or fierce … instead it was loving. Forgiving. Healing. It was enough. More than enough. And more kisses followed.