OH MY GOD YOU GUYS! I am finally ready to unveil the first chapter of the sequel to "It's a Heart Attack That You Feel!" Writing that story turned out to be way more interesting, complex, and gratifying than I ever imagined it would be when I was just goofing off and joking about how I should write my own fanfic. At some point, in my mind, it stopped being a joke and started feeling real! And the comments and love and feedback from all of you are what completely made it worth it and kept me super excited about working on it. Every time I would post a new chapter, I would just sit there and eagerly wait for the first reviews to come in! Most of all, I loved talking to you guys about what made you laugh, made you cry, and made you do… well… other things. ;) SO, I am so pleased to present to you the sequel, which brings to you the same characters you know and love, but believe it or not, is even more completely insane, emotional, and complicated than its predecessor. Some of it is pretty different, and I think you'll see what I mean, but I now bring to you, and hope you will love:

Part II: It Only Fuels the Flames

Chapter 1: It Was Midnight

"So what flavour did you get?" Ted asked, joining Jamie at the table by the window of a little

yogurt shop they'd managed to find in Brighton, just a few hours before the first show of their UK tour.

"Pineapple," she said, and for a moment she actually felt shy, and then felt stupid about that. He

doesn't know! she reminded herself. I need to say something. I need to say something before I burst open like a pinata. "How about you?" she asked instead.

"Cherry, with whipped cream and sprinkles," he said with obvious glee. Jamie grinned at his

childlike enthusiasm.

"That sounds sickly sweet," she said and he nodded happily.

"It is. So, you never told me what all happened in Vancouver," he said, tasting his whipped cream as his question sent a jolt through Jamie's insides. "Spill."

"Uh, well. . ." she started, excited for the opportunity but suddenly anxious. "I uh. . . went to a couple of restaurants. Did some editing. Walked in the rain. Slept with Tegan. Do you want to go to a movie tomorrow night, maybe?" Jamie said, it all spilling out at once and she didn't even really like going to movies that much. There was an overripe pause where Ted looked up quickly from his yogurt and sought out eye contact but Jamie was concentrating very hard on her yogurt. She could almost hear the shock boiling up inside of him.

"She. . . you. . . what?" Ted sputtered, eyes wide, his yogurt spoon frozen mid-journey, dripping

now-neglected cherry yogurt onto the cracked formica. Jamie laughed at his incredulity, but blushed still. He was the only person she could tell, and since returning, she'd wanted to tell someone, anyone, but there was no one. The end of the Canadian tour had been very quiet, with each of the girls internally processing all that had happened while at the same time avoiding mentioning it whenever possible. The tour had ended abruptly, it felt like, and after that, Jamie had spent a few weeks at home, sorting out some of the fragments of her nearly-forgotten life; catching up with friends, mending a couple of relationships with touring buddies who would have wanted to club her like a baby seal if they'd known. . . they kind of seemed like they wanted to club her like a baby seal as it was. And not a day went by that she didn't talk to someone and feel an intense urge to just spill everything she'd experienced over those few months of touring and, in particular, those two weeks in Vancouver. But she couldn't, and she knew it. Ted was the only one she could conceivably talk to about it, and this was the first time, despite her many efforts, that she'd gotten him alone.

"You're dripping yogurt like, all over. . ." Jamie mumbled, deflecting. Ted shook his head, grinning widely, and dropped his spoon back into his cup.

"Oh no. Don't change the subject. You and Tegan, like. . ." he stopped, wanting to know and not wanting to ask, pulled and pushed by his own curiosity. "Wow." He pressed both hands against the sides of his head as if to stop the explosion.

"Haha," Jamie chuckled briefly, spooning some pineapple yogurt into her mouth and, as often

happened, experiencing a sudden wave of recollection, of how that yogurt had tasted on Tegan's lips. Her insides twisted a little.

"So like, I mean. . ." Ted went on, stunned to the point of losing the power of coherent thought. "Like, you. . . what. . . was it just like a one-time thing or. . . I'm sorry. . . it's. . ." he laughed, shaking his head, his eyebrows frozen in their elevated position. "I mean, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. . ."

"No, it's okay, I mean. . . I've wanted to like. . . talk to someone," Jamie started, "for all these weeks because my head has been like. . ."

"Fucked," Ted said helpfully, shaking his head with an awed expression.

"Kind of, yeah," Jamie said. She played around with the yogurt in her cup. "And, um, no, not once

but like. . . um. . ." She didn't know how to finish.

"More than once?" Ted confirmed, more surprised still. He snapped out of it enough to grab a napkin and mop up the melted yogurt from the table.

"Um, yeah. . . more than once," Jamie said, somewhat absently as she took another bite of yogurt, recalling Tegan's face above hers as she woke up that morning in Vancouver. The memory gave her a slight shiver. Ted's voice pulled her back to the present.

"So are you. . . I mean, have you been. . . has it been continuing since-"

"No," Jamie said quickly, with a dismissive shake of the head, surprised at the sudden tightening in her throat. "Uh, no, I mean. . . I think it was the time and the place, like. . . I think Tegan really needed someone. . ." Ted watched her face as she attempted an explanation, and his surprise softened somewhat sympathetically.

"But. . . Jamie," Ted started hesitantly, licking his finger and dabbing at the sprinkles on the table. "You're like. . . you're. . . kind of. . . in love. . . with Tegan. Right?" Jamie's heart skipped slightly. He looked at her earnestly. How does he know? What have I ever done to give that away? Does everyone know? Why am I so fucking obvious!?

"Uh," she stalled, wondering if the heat from her face would melt all the yogurt in the coolers. "Yeah, I, uh, I guess. . . um. . . how did you, um. . ." Ted smiled again.

"Because I see you. . . and then I see you with her," he said simply, turning his palms up with a shrug and a grin. "It's just. . . obvious." Jamie met his warm look for a moment before looking down, and felt shy over being so transparent.

"Yeah," she said when she couldn't come up with anything else.

"Isn't that hard?" he asked her sympathetically as she reached over and took a small scoop of his cherry yogurt. He in turn took some of her pineapple and she inadvertently wondered what it would taste like on his lips.

"Haha. . . yeah, um. . . can we just maybe talk about the sexy stuff instead?" she said, laughing at the sore spot this conversation was rubbing up against, but blinking fast against the prick in her eyes that Ted's question had sparked. Ted gave her an understanding look.

"Aww, sure," he said.

"I mean, yeah. But she and Sara are just like. . ." Jamie stopped, recalling the way Sara had clasped her fingers together when she tried to explain her love for Tegan. "Like this," she finished, using Sara's gesture.

"Yeah, I know. . ." Ted said thoughtfully and paused for a moment. "So. . . was it good?" He gave her a mischievous look and she smirked at him and shook her head, blushing again.Will Tegan ever stop making me blush?

"Ha," she laughed, looking up at the ceiling for a moment. "Uh, yeah." Ted shook his head again, his smile consuming his face. He made a sound that Jamie could only have described as a giggle.

"And so were you. . . I mean. . . was she. . . who was on top?" he asked, mischievous excitement evident on his face. Jamie snorted, rolled her eyes a little.

"Jesus," she said. "Contrary to popular belief, you really are a guy, huh?"

"Come on, Jamie! You can't just like. . . tell me you slept with Tegan and then-" Jamie winced and he lowered his voice. "And then not tell me any details!"

"I thought Tegan was like your sister," Jamie teased, and Ted shrugged, laughing.

"Yeah, maybe she's like my sister but she's not actually my sister. . ." he paused thoughtfully. "Which, I guess, in this context though. . . does it matter?"

"Ha ha oh God," Jamie laughed, "too far, too far!"

"You're avoiding the question again!"

"Ha well. . . most of the time, uh. . . you know, it isn't all about tops and bottoms you know, especially with women-"

"Come on!"

"Okay, me," Jamie muttered into her yogurt cup. "Mostly." Ted laughed, clapped his hands together a few times.

"Haha, all right! Well! I would not have thought that!" he exclaimed.

"Yeah, well. . ." Ted was still laughing as Jamie struggled with her embarrassment.

"But like. . ." he started, lowering his voice, "when you saw them. . . in the hotel. . . who-"

"Sara," Jamie said quickly.

"Top?"

"Haha, yes!" Jamie said to Ted's raised eyebrows.

"Ha! I knew it!" he cried victoriously, and Jamie smirked at him.

"Oh yeah?" she taunted, "and why is that?"

It was Ted's turn to blush slightly. "Uh, well, I mean, you know. . . Sara is just such a control freak, like. . . right? And Tegan just. . ."

Jamie let him struggle, enjoying the analysis of someone who had known them much better than she had.

"Tegan just. . . wants to be loved, you know? So it all kind of. . . makes sense. . ." he laughed at his own embarrassment.

"Yeah, fans have been speculating about that for years. . ." she mused, and Ted took a moment with his yogurt. "I'd kind of like to tell them they were right, buuuut. . ."

"Wow. And like. . . your fan friends, like your friends from before who are fans, like. . . I mean, how would they react?" he asked, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table. Jamie shook her head.

"Oh God. Some of them would. . . like. . . draw and quarter me in the town square," she said wryly. "I think some of them have already started a petition. . ." They took a moment to ponder that.

"But like. . . how did that even happen? Like how. . . who. . . which one of you like. . ." The image that came first to Jamie's mind this time was of Tegan in bed, sobbing, with a pillow clutched to her face. She was immediately filled again with the same intense affection she had felt then, lying beside Tegan, just wanting to hold her.

"Uh, well. . . she'd been really upset. . . about Sara, the night before, so I stayed with her. . . that night," Jamie started, and Ted immediately started grinning again. "No, it was. . . I didn't. . . she was crying, and I just held her! What kind of opportunist do you think I am?!" Jamie asked, in mock offense. He snorted.

"Okay, go on then."

"And then in the morning when I woke up, um. . . she was like. . . just. . . lying next to me and like looking. . . at me. . ." she attempted to explain, awkwardly. She ate more yogurt to buy more time.

"And then?" Ted pressed in a stage-whisper that reminded her of the small Asian girl with the scandalized expression.

"And then, she just got on top of me and kissed me," Jamie finished, the last two words dropping off to a barely audible mumble.

"She. . . got on top of. . and. . .? Tegan-"

"Shhh, keep it down," Jamie hissed anxiously, briefly eyeing the two women a couple of tables away. Almost definitely not gay, she thought with relief. "And, yeah. . . I didn't see that coming, either."

"Wow," he said, looking impressed.

"Yeah," Jamie agreed, her mind returning to the first moment she had felt Tegan's lips on hers. She shivered again, and crossed her legs.

"And after she kissed you, did you. . . I mean. . . what did you. . ."

"Ha. . ." Jamie laughed, blushing more deeply yet again. "I didn't do much of anything. . . I was still trying to figure out what parallel universe I was in and trying to remember how to breathe. . ."

"And so Tegan-"

"Yeah."

"Wow." He blinked at her, at a loss, until he appeared to remember the even more insane part of the whole equation. "And like, you and Tegan. . . you and Sara. . . you guys are okay?" he wondered in disbelief and Jamie nodded, scraping the bottom of the cup.

"We're okay. There were lots of like. . . intense conversations and gut-spilling and like. . . crying," she explained.

"I can imagine."

"Ha! I don't even know if you can. Like, it was just. . ." She trailed off and shook her head, also at a loss. "But eventually, now, I think. . . we're good. We-" Jamie's phone buzzed on the table, and they both glanced at the screen. A text from Tegan. Yogurt 4 me pls?

"Speak of the garden gnome," Ted mused as Jamie picked up her phone and quickly wrote back, Sure. What flavor?

"I thought Sara might murder me, though," Jamie said after a moment, remembering the wave of anxiety she had felt upon Sara's arrival in Vancouver. "She showed up and I don't think Tegan was expecting her yet, and she just walked right into Tegan's room and-"

"OH MY GOD, were you-"

"NO! But my clothes were, like. . . everywhere. . . and she, uh, figured it out pretty quickly. I was really sure I was about to end up with two black eyes." Ted laughed. "In the end, she was sweet though. We got snot on each other. We're fine." Ted laughed at that as Tegan's texted reply arrived. PINEAPPLE OF COURSE! was all it said, and Jamie couldn't help but snort, a little, as she got up and ordered Tegan's pineapple yogurt.

"And so. . ." Ted went on as they let the door jingle closed behind them. "They know, they both know that you know?"

"Yeah," Jamie said as they navigated the three blocks back to where their buses were parked.

"And how did that happen? I mean, I'm guessing you didn't just, like. . ."

"God no, fuck, I wasn't going to say anything!" Jamie replied. "But then after the first time me and Tegan. . . um. . . well actually, I guess it was like, the second time. . ." she felt her face heating up again as Ted's grin returned. "Well, she really lost it. I guess she thought. . . I guess she felt like. . . after that. . . that I deserved to know." This time the image that came to her mind was Tegan curled up in the bathtub, naked, weeping, and shivering in the freezing water, and the same wave of overwhelming compassion she had felt then washed over her again.

"Wow," Ted gave a low whistle. "That's intense."

"No joke," Jamie replied, thinking of the animal-like terror she had seen in Tegan's wide, red-rimmed eyes. "But she like, she couldn't even say it, and I had to like, help. . ."

"No way," Ted sharply turned to look at her, almost slipping off of the curb of the sidewalk before quickly regaining his balance. "Oh my god. What did you say?"

"I said that you can't help who you fall in love with."

"Wow," Ted repeated, looking at her, more carefully this time, with a mixture of wonder and sympathy.

"Yeah," Jamie said, "and then I, uh, overheard Tegan telling Sara that I knew, a few days after Sara got there, when they were talking about, uh, all of. . . everything." Ted raised his eyebrows but said nothing. "They both were like, sick when they found out that I knew. No, actually, Tegan actually did throw up when I told her I knew. I almost had to break into the bathroom to make sure she was okay."

"Damn."

"Yeah. She was a fucking mess. But I think. . . I mean, I hope. . . they are going to be okay with it. Maybe you should tell them that you know?" Ted thought about that.

"Maybe give them time to get over this shock first?" They mused over that a little as they walked. They were half a block away from the bus when they saw Sara come flying off the Short Bus, as the boys had called it that morning, and dart off in the other direction.

"Uh oh," Jamie said under her breath.

"Was she crying?" Ted asked, glancing over at Jamie.

"I think so. I'll bring this to Tegan and. . . see you in a bit, okay?"

"Yeah."

. . . .

"This is. . ." Tegan started slowly.

"I know," Sara agreed. "It's like, it's so, like. . ."

"It's almost obscene," Tegan said.

"Yeah."

"Um. . ." Tegan started, scratching her head.

"Yeah, Chris said they screwed up and. . . they'd ordered a different model for us with like. . . two normal beds in the back and we got, uh. . ."

"This," Tegan finished for her.

"Yeah."

They both stood in the back of their newly rented bus, their first-ever private bus, staring at the king-sized bed, awkwardly, uncertainly. Sara glanced over at Tegan, briefly, and then back to the opulence of the huge bed. Tegan shifted from one foot to the other, biting the corner of her lower lip. Had she ever imagined, at any time in her life, that she would feel so anxious to be standing next to a bed with her twin sister? The overt fact of its being a bed seemed to hold them where they stood, like quicksand. They may or may not have been sinking.

"Tegan, can we talk about. . . something. . . I've been meaning to. . . " Sara said abruptly after a moment, eyes still on the dark grey duvet and not on Tegan's.

"Uh, we're talking now. . ." Tegan said with a nervous laugh, rubbing her palms against the legs of her jeans. Conversations that started that way were never good.

"Can we sit down?" Sara asked, and Tegan gave her a quick, dubious look.

"Here?" she asked, incredulously, as she took half a step back. Why was she so hesitant? There were times, many times, where the only thing she wanted in life was to be in a room with a door that locked, alone, with Sara, in a bed. She wanted that so much that it overcame her fear, her sense of morality, the shame, the guilt, the humiliation, and the pain that came with it.

"Tegan, we've. . . we've been alone in rooms with beds before and. . . not. . ."

"Okay," Tegan said quickly, and sat awkwardly on the foot of the bed. Sara sat in the middle of the bed and crossed her legs.

"Could you maybe look at me?" Sara asked tentatively, and after a moment's hesitation, Tegan nodded, seeming to shake herself, and turned to face Sara on the bed, knee to knee. Tegan quickly recalled sitting just like that with Jamie in Vancouver several weeks before, and felt a little twist in her stomach.

"Okay," Tegan said, with some trepidation. "What did you want to talk about?" Sara looked in her eyes with a degree of solemnity that made Tegan even more anxious. Sara took a breath.

"I want to talk about Jamie," Sara said, earnestly, leaning forward a little. Their knees touched.

"Oh, man. . ." Tegan moaned, grimacing a little. "Why?" Sara looked back at her.

"There are things I just. . . need to ask you." Tegan looked back at her, their eyes mirroring each other's anxiety. Tegan sighed, nodded. If Sara needed to ask, she would have to answer, but she didn't know why Sara needed to ask. That seemed kind of masochistic.

"Why do you want to bring this all back up now?" Tegan asked uneasily, unable to think of anything she would rather talk about less.

"Well. . . we're all back in the same place again," Sara started, "and I've just. . . been thinking about it. . ." Tegan winced, wondering exactly what Sara had been thinking about.

"Okay," she said with some reluctance. Sara raised an eyebrow.

"What, you don't want to talk about it?" she asked.

"Well, I just don't see the point," Tegan replied, defensiveness rising up inside her. "Like, are you going to feel good about anything I say?" Sara shrugged, giving the question a chance to sink in. She looked up at the skylight above the bed, bit her lip.

"I don't think that feeling good is like. . . the point. At all," she said uncertainly.

"Then what is the point?" Tegan's voice got slightly more patient in the face of Sara's gravity.

"I don't. . . I don't know, I guess I don't really know if there is a. . . point. . . exactly. . . I just need to know." Sara picked at some loose threads around the hole in the knee of her jeans. Tegan watched her hands plucking at the threads, watched the tension in her face.

"Okay. Ask what you want," Tegan said at last, a little weightily.

"I want to know. . ." Sara started, not looking up from the frayed hole at her knee. "I want to know. . . how. . . it was." Tegan's eyes were on her, and her body language suggested rather that she did not want to know. But, she was asking it, and Tegan's stomach dropped.

"How. . . what was?" she asked, densely, buying time. Sara looked up at her, forced patience.

"You know," she said. Tegan looked down, wishing there were a hole in her jeans, too. Instead, she picked at her thumb nail, and sighed again.

"Sara, do you really want to talk about that?" she asked apprehensively.

"Yeah, I really do." Tegan took a moment. Her desire for privacy, her desire to protect Sara, to protect Jamie, all collided with the lingering sense of guilt, that she had betrayed Sara. Her sister. She took a long breath.

"Okay. What do you want to know?" Tegan asked again, as though she'd forgotten. Sara looked up, a little exasperated but still too embarrassed to react to it.

"I asked you already. I want to know how. . . it. . . was."

"Uh. . ." Tegan began, nerves making her a little shaky. "Can you be a little more specific? I mean, a question like that. . ."

"Tegan, you're being childish," Sara said.

"Do you think this is easy?" Tegan asked her, tensely, and Sara sighed.

"Okay. Was it good? And, since you want specifics, I'm talking about sex. I want to know if the sex was good." Tegan started peeling a hangnail by her left thumb. She shrugged, shook her head, the false frustration of the embarrassed.

"Yeah," she said, at last. A quick look up at Sara's eyes was all she could manage; she looked back to her hands. Sara looked down too. The hole in her jeans was getting bigger.

"How?" she asked, a slight tremor in her voice. "Good how?"

"I don't know how to answer that. . ." Tegan stalled.

"Did you come?" Sara asked, bluntly. Tegan met her eyes. There was more than curiosity there.

"Yes," Tegan said, the heat radiating up through the neck of her shirt, rushing up through her face.

"How many times?" Sara asked, quickly, more quickly than Tegan could formulate a response. She shrugged again.

"I don't know. . . lots of times," she mumbled. Sara nodded.

"What about Jamie?" Sara asked.

"What about her?" Tegan returned, obstinate. Sara frowned.

"Did she come?"

"I think so," Tegan replied.

"You think so?" Sara asked, disbelieving, her face reddening to match Tegan's. Tegan took a moment, and in a flash, in her mind, Jamie clutched the front of her t-shirt and pressed her face against Tegan's neck.

"Okay, yes." Sara met Tegan's gaze with some intensity, searching.

"How?" Sara pressed on. Tegan raised her eyebrows.

"What?"

"Don't be obtuse, Tegan. Did you go down on her?" she asked. Tegan cleared her throat nervously.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" Tegan repeated. "I. . . there wasn't. . . I don't know, there wasn't. . . I guess there wasn't time."

"Jesus, Tegan, how long does it take?" Sara asked with an ironic laugh. Tegan scowled.

"You know what I mean," Tegan said. Sara conceded that point with a subtle shrug.

"Did she go down on you?" she asked, relentless.

"Jesus, Sara," Tegan sighed, this time remembering Jamie's lips against her inner thighs, and her own panic which stopped that short.

"Just tell me," Sara said tensely. Tegan looked at her a little sadly; she knew Sara like she knew herself, and she knew that this discussion was hurting Sara whether she wanted the answers or not.

"No, she didn't," Tegan said. She thought of saying more, but bit her tongue. Sara nodded, chewed a little on her lower lip again.

"Okay," Sara said at length. "So you had some orgasms. Is that it?" Tegan watched Sara's hands, shaking a little, gradually pull a long thread from her jeans. Tegan felt a quiver of dread in her stomach.

"Is that it?" she repeated, truly uncertain as to how to answer that in a way that would not result in pain for any of the people involved.

"Yes, Tegan!" Sara said hotly. "Was that all it was? Orgasms? Fucking? Or was there. . . something. . . more." The squirming in Tegan's stomach intensified. There was no good answer to that. Should she tell Sara that all it had been was meaningless fucking, when Sara knew that Jamie loved her? Did it matter if Sara thought she had heartlessly used Jamie? Tegan suddenly realized that it did. On the other hand, the fact was that it hadn't been just meaningless fucking, but that seemed like a worse answer still.

"Sara, what do you want me to say?" Tegan protested.

"I want to know if it was just fucking or if it was something more." Her eyes, intensely on Tegan's, flashed. Tegan forced herself to answer.

"No, it wasn't just. . . fucking," she said at last. There was a slight twitch in Sara's lips at that. She looked down at her hands, where she was twisting the thread tighter and tighter around her finger until it became purple. She flushed deeper. Tegan waited for the interrogation to continue, but the pause drew out longer than she could stand. "Sara, what do you really want to know?" Tegan asked, more gently. "What are you really asking?" Sara continued her efforts to cut off the circulation in her left index finger until Tegan reached out a hand, gently took hold of Sara's, and started unwinding the thread. Sara sighed.

"I guess. . . I wonder, I mean. . . I want to know. . . I want to know if it was. . . um. . ."

"Better?" Tegan offered softly, and Sara nodded without looking up, her face a mask of shame, humiliation. This is so fucked, Tegan thought. I am afraid of hurting my sister by telling her that the sex I had with someone else was not just meaningless fucking. "Sara, it's not. . . um. . . it's not a fair comparison." Sara rubbed the life back into her finger.

"Not fair. . . to whom?" she asked, her voice low, not really wanting to know.

"To either of you," Tegan replied. Sara was picking at her jeans again, not looking up. "You're going to lose the leg of your jeans. . ."

"I guess I shouldn't have asked because. . . um. . . now I. . . I don't know." Sara pressed her fingers against her temples, closed her eyes.

"See? This is why I didn't want to talk to you about it," Tegan said, sadly. Sara gave Tegan an angry look.

"Weren't you. . . didn't you, like, think for a second that you might, like, break her fucking heart?" Tegan sat back, surprised. Her mouth opened, and then closed again.

"Uh. . . yeah, of course I thought about that," Tegan replied.

"So why did you do it?" Sara asked, intensely, insistently. "Why? Why Tegan? Fuck!" she cried out at last, and burst into tears.

"Sara, hey-" Tegan started, alarmed, reaching a hand out to Sara, who got quickly off the bed, hurried up the length of the bus, out the door, and was gone.