"Huh. Oookay. Definitely a change. Think I could get used to it."

I'm standing in front of the mirror in the bedroom of the RV, still fussing and playing with a few errant strands of my new hairstyle; cut into an elongated bob, then dyed raven black with green bangs. It makes me look just a little bit butch, albeit in a kind of femmy, punky way. Chloe convinced me to go with it a couple days ago, and it's seriously growing on me.

So a little catch up, I guess? Thing One: we're in San Francisco now. Yay! And we have been for the better part of at least three weeks. We spent a few days at Burning Man on the way over, which was...eye-opening, to put it mildly. I got such amazing photographs though, and I even managed to sell a bunch to hipsters who appreciated the 'unique authenticity and sole agency' of instant film. I can dig that; it's not like you can make a buzillion copies of that photo and have it be exactly the same, not like you can with digital. It's as much physical artifact as it is an image itself, all rolled up into one nice, neat package. Nice to find people who appreciate that, even if some of them insist on paying with aura readings and handmade jewelry.

Chloe also convinced me to take some molly with her too, you know, kind of a once in a lifetime thing? I'm just going to say that dropping a drug like that when you're already crazy in love with someone is almost painful intense, like I was in total withdrawal when I wasn't in actual physical contact with her at all times.

But wow...

Everything was gorgeous. Everything was light. Everything was love.

All the glow strips and sticks were solid, buzzing tangible magic that whispered happy karma joytime in your eyes, and everyone's crazy outfits made it feel like we were walking in a different frequency of reality. You'd think I'd be a little more jaded about that kind of experience. I mean, shit, I DID used to bend time to my will, but that's like a dream to me now, most days. Hardly real at all. I suppose in a legitimate way, it IS just a dream. What's real anymore, when you're the only person to remember it?

Okay, so it was a positive thing, but I'm not sure I'd do it again. Or at least not often. Maybe once a year or two? Don't know, not gonna worry about figuring it out. Glad I tried, at least once.

We made our way to California after that, San Francisco, because of course we was that NOT going to happen? Roy and Chloe struck up a bit of a friendship during our time in Reno, and he put her in touch with the owner of some place called Black and Blue, woman by the name of Jenny. I guess she was something of a protege of his, and she agreed to take Chloe under her wing, and train her up some more. Pays her a little bit under the table, and best of all, has been letting Chloe finish up my arm sleeve for just the cost of materials, during the night after the shop closes.

She's learning a lot, and you know what? She's so damn happy now. Every night, when she comes back to the RV for dinner, she tells me - no, she practically gushes - about some new thing she learned, or something Jenny showed her, or some bit of praise someone gave her. This isn't just a job for her, this is what she wants from life. She's bouncing out of bed now in the morning, acting like she's the luckiest woman in the world to go off and work at the place she does, for barely any money. Part of me almost can't stand to hit the road again, like we planned for October. Because I feel like I'm taking her away from the best place she's ever been mentally in her life, definitely since William died. But she keeps telling me we need to roll on with our life right now, and she can always come back again some other day. Even though I can see it in her eyes, the way she wants to return. I can't help but wonder if I haven't lost her, ultimately, to San Francisco. Except for the crushingly huge expensiveness of the place, there are SOOOO many worse cities to be in.

Anyhow, back to the tattoo stuff. That's the reason why I got my hair completely redone; it's part celebration for us both. A major life event, something that's changing me. Changing us both, I guess. I have to admit, when she made those last few touches, after so many hours just sitting together while she brought my vision to life, I could feel an almost palpable click; it was as if a chain binding the two of us finally snapped shut, and there was no way now the two of us were ever going to not be together. I was utterly hers now, just as I know she is eternally mine. Maybe other people would just say it's age and lack of experience talking, and we're being stupid and setting ourselves up for disappointment but I believe it with all my heart. I might be "only" nineteen, but I've seen a lot more than most my age, thank you very much.

Oh, shit, yeah! It's totally my birthday today, by the way! September 21th. So happy birthday to me! Hard to believe, right? A year ago today, I was just barely starting at Blackwell. That was a whole different lifetime ago.

"A whole different Max Caulfield." I say to myself in the mirror.

I'm pretty sure past-Max would have trouble recognizing herself now. Like a butterfly coming out of it's chrysalis at long last. Finding my own style, my own path in life. I've had a lot of time to think and walk about, exploring the city, taking more pictures than I can possibly count, during the days when Chloe is at work. San Francisco is just gorgeous, this time of year. Jenny crabs about how things have changed, how too much money is gentrifying the whole place, and how much better it was fifteen years ago; maybe she's got a point. I just don't have any reference, but then again, doesn't every generation say that about change? That the past was always better than the future?

The hardest part is getting around. We have to keep the Princess Sparklefists Express in an RV park on the outskirts of the city, and even with things like the commuter train and BART, it's still a pain, a pricey one at that, to get around. Especially since Chloe and I have different schedules these days. It makes me wish we had a smaller car to tow around, for times like this. On the other hand, it's not like we're staying much longer so maybe just putting up with the inconvenience is a small price to pay.

Anyhow, back to more awesome things, like me and my birthday stuff! The morning started off with birthday nookie, which admittedly is a lot like our regular nookie. Only with more spanking jokes. Hee.

But the important part is how she looks when she wakes me up first thing. Naked, of course, but with pretty much all her hair - which she's been growing out over the past few months, to the point where it's past her shoulders a little bit - tucked underneath her skater beanie.

"Morning, my magnificent Mad Maxy." she purrs against my ear.

She has the best bedroom voice.

I'm still curling my toes thinking about it.

"Happy super stupid fresh dope happenin' awesome nineteenth birthday today. You ready to have your entire world hella rocked in it's fucking face?"

I roll onto my back and sleepily trace my fingers up her sides. "Off to a good start already. What's with hiding all your hair though?"

"Oh, that? Yeah well - I kinda went out, in the middle of the night while you were sleeping, and had this done. So be prepared for some sheer gigacool."

She pulls off the beanie, tosses it towards the small chair, then slowly shakes her hair out, as if luxuriating in the effort. And I don't really know how to describe it, other than...wow. It's purple. Well, no, it's violet now, really. But it's more than just that, it's all super soft looking , shimmery, and vibrant, with subtle color gradations from light to dark, and an almost prismatic effect. It's like the world's most perfect hair (forever), especially if you're living in an anime.

"Holy...is that? Are you wearing a wig?!" I call out disbelieving, as I reach over and give a playful tug. She laughs and leans in, letting me get a good fistful.

"Nope! It's all one-hundred totes Chloe! Grade-Quadruple A!"

I run both my hands through it now, unable to stop myself from playing with it, rubbing my face in it. It feels as amazing as it looks and smells...

"Holy shit, is that roses!? Mmmmm! That's incredible."

"I know, right?! I won't shock you with how much it all cost, but there's this woman about three blocks over from the tattoo place who agreed to open up in the middle of the night and give me her best, and therefore most expensive, hair style. I'm not going to say she's magic or anything but...she totally did it with witchcraft. You like?"

"I love! But why the change? You always seemed so happy with just blue Manic Panic straight from the bottle."

"Yeah well, time for a new chapter in my life, right? YOU don't get to have all the fun. 'Cause, I mean, I've been thinking it over a while, and I realized something last week: Blue Chloe doesn't have much reason to hang around anymore. Blue Chloe was angry, and pissy, and kinda hated the whole world and got off on giving it the middle finger when she could. She was just living, waiting for life to get on with it. But Violet Chloe is love, and how amazeballs the future is going to be with her eternal soulmate, so yeah. Violet is kicking Blue's ass to the damn curb and saying 'There's a new sheriff in town, bitch! Gitdout!"

I pull her close for a kiss, murmuring against her mouth, "Oooooh. Super, super sexy. Don't go changing too much, okay? But-but I love it."

"Don't worry, some shit will always be the same." she remarks with a wry little smirk, reaching over to grab her vaporizer from the small nightstand. Puffs away for a few moments and then trails kisses down my ear and neck, whispering, "Right, so you just rest your cute birthday ass right here in bed. Imma go and make waffles just the way you like them; you eat the waffles, I eat you, it's a nutritionally awesome and sexy way to start your big day.

I burst out laughing at this, and shake my head. I still can't get over how open and free she is about things like sex, but it's one of the reasons I completely, hopelessly adore her.

"Bring the strawberries and whipped cream with you. They go with more than just waffles."

"Oh-la-la, babydoll!"

I rise up, just enough to steal one more kiss from her before she can leave the bed and trill, "I love you...Chloewoieyummymuffin."

This just about reduces her to tears, as she giggles for a good thirty seconds straight. She finally catches her breath, and starts to passionately rub her nose against mine as she croons out. "Maxywaxyookumsnookies!"

Oh my God, we are so disgustingly cute sometimes.

I hope it's always that way between us.

"Okay. Wow. Now THIS is really a change..."

When she finally dragged me out into the city proper, Chloe insisted in buying me a whole new wardrobe. Like literally, throw out most of the clothes I have now and buy all new everything. Love that woman, but holy shit sometimes she has trouble scaling herself back. I managed to convince her to limit our shopping spree to four or five outfits TOPS and no, she couldn't just get me nothing but lingerie!

And to be fair, she DOES have way superior taste than mine; from the day I first let her pick out my outfit, on the morning after we broke into the school, and went swimming in the pool, when she first dared me to kiss her...

...oh shit.

I did it again.

I hug myself, and let the moment pass, taking comfort in the fact that these memory slips are becoming fewer and further between. Still, I can't help but give a little bit of a shiver, for what was lost. I mean, for what it's worth, in this 'prime time' line I live in now, something really similar happened, not long after Chloe got out of the hospital.

No sense in letting this get me down. It's my birthday, damnit!

So where was I? Right. These days, I'm always letting Chloe be my fashion consultant, because she's got a taste for what looks good, a talent I kinda lack. I mean, I do okay but...

Damn, do I look good now. Even if I would have sworn this totally isn't my style. Our last shopping expedition for the day, and she's taken me to this place on Howard Street, I think?, called Stormy Leather. I'm sure all you perverts out there can imagine what kind of shop it is.

Still, the fashionably cut, tight leather jeans, paired with a half-bodice, which has these straps that rise up to meet a choker around my neck. Combined with the heavy duty biker boots, I look good, especially now with my new hair doo. Not to mention the tattoo! It's like I'm finally noticing myself for the first time.

"Oh shit!" I whisper. "I am HOT. Totes and cereal perfection."

Kind of butch, but in a sexy, femme-y way...if that makes any sense. Wait, I said that before, right? About the hair? But it fits. Hair and outfit were made for each other! I'm totally enjoying myself as I strike poses in the mirror and blow kisses.

I give a devilish grin and imagine I'm talking to Chloe. "I am totally going to melt your brain into a little pile of goo, Chloe-cakes."

With that, I turn on one booted heel, throw back the curtain from the dressing room, lean against the side of the way and puur out, "Hey stud. Looking for a date?"

Annnnnd fuuuuuuck. Chloe's not there.

In her place, however, is a confused looking sales clerk. Allison, according to her name tag. Poor Allison, who's doing her best impression of a deer caught in the headlights.

She quickly recovers with a smile and answers, "Uhhh...thanks? But I'm already seeing someone, and believe it or not, while I work in a fetish shop in San Francisco, I don't roll that way. I mean, no offense, you look absolutely killer in that! If I did go for girls, I would take you up on that offer, no doubt."

Self-consciously, I pull the curtain over me, as if trying to hide. God, my face must be a zillion shades of red right now, as I murmur, "Sorry. Um. My girlfriend. I thought she was waiting for me, out there. Probably got distracted by something even sexier. But I mean like, I was going to surprise her and stuff..."

"Are you talking about the woman with the purple hair? Yeah, I think she want to try something on, actually."

I roll my eyes and giggle. "What, do you guys make punk and skater wear out of rubber or something?"

The curtain from another nearby changing booth slides back, in one solid, smooth motion, as Chloe announces, "Nope. But they have some other hella slick stuff here, oh my Maxima."

There is a good five to ten second disconnect between what my eyes take in, and how my brain processes it. She is just - just absolutely poured into this slinky one piece leather bandage dress, with spandex panels on the side to add some cling and give. A lot of her arm tats are covered by the shoulder length gloves, kind of like what fancy people wear to an opera or something? A black leather band is wrapped around her neck, with a skull charm hanging from it. And, wait, did she put on more makeup? Inside the changing booth? How else did she get on the blush and the black lipstick?

I drift over, and look up, and up, and up. Always a good inch or so taller than me, she's now got even more of an advantage thanks to her high heeled boots. I swallow dryly, and rasp out. "Uh...so ah...hah. Hiyeee. Like I said: Wanna date?"

She reaches out, brushing leather-coated fingers against my face, making me swoon from the sensation, and the scent of high grade kidskin, wrapping them through a fistful of my hair. She smirks, then coos, "Anyone ever tell you how adorable you are when Teh Horny breaks your brain?"

I blush down to my chest yet again, reaching out to run my hands over her curves, "I just can't believe, I mean shit, you're actually in a dress!"

"Hey! I wear dresses. I mean, I HAVE worn dresses. Once. Sometimes. Every so often."

"Yeah well, unless you engaged in a debauched frenzy of dress wearing while I was in Seattle, I haven't seen you in anything that wasn't pants or shorts since you were thirteen!"

Chloe starts to protest, but sputters short. Blinks, and then realizes, "Oh shit. Damn hon, I think you're right! Well, that makes this a super special occasion then, right? Happy birthday!"

"Well, you feel as incredible as you look right now." I muse with a wicked little smirk and a glint in my eye, as my hands slip down and over her backside. I'm about to tell her that she's probably the most incredible present I've ever had on this or any other birthday, but my hormones decide to jump ahead of the game; it's a good two or three seconds before the rest of me realizes that I'm planting an incredibly passionate kiss on her mouth, one that she's more than happy to return.

Poor Allison - although I can only imagine she's seen plenty of shit go down in a place like this - merely clears her throat and asks, "So does that mean you'll take the outfits?" Not missing a beat, I reaching into one of the pockets, fumbling to retrieve a credit card by feel alone, and then wave it out in her general direction, still not opening my eyes or breaking the kiss.

"Uhhh...okay. Which one of you is paying exactly?"

That's when I finally come to my senses, and realize that Chloe has done exactly the same thing, all but throwing her card at the saleswoman.

"Two cards, same account. But it's her birthday, so I'm buying."

Allison feigns appropriate interest, taking Chloe's as she says, "Well then, happy birthday! Would you like us to wrap those up, or...?"

I glance back towards my skater girl and give a throaty little laugh. "I think we'll wear it out the store." I have to admit, I'm damn pleased when I ACTUALLY make Chloe blush. Go Team Max! About damn time, it's so hard to get her to do it, but oh my God, she looks SOOOOO cute when she does.

She blinks nervously, looking away from me. "D-damn Max. Really? I mean...well. Dunno what I mean. This is kinda hardcore though, for walking around outside, maybe?"

I cock my hips again. "What, this? We're more dressed up than half of the bikini-top and Daisy Duke-wearing rollerchicks wandering around this city. I mean shit Chlo, if two girls can't dress up in leather and wander around San Francisco hand in hand, then where CAN they? Hell, I just look like a biker mama, and you, my little chicky-boo. Around here, we're as American as artisanal organic apple pie with locally sourced, non-GMO vanilla ice cream"

She bursts out laughing, "Chicky-boo? Jesus babe." She shakes her head and murmurs, "Alright. But only for a little while, okay? Because birthday and everything."

I shake my head and then boop her on the tip of her nose. "Is this all because you're wearing a dress? Like seriously, if you got a pair of leather chaps or something, would that actually work out better?"

"Would you hit me if I said yes?"

"Not any harder than I normally do." We both giggle conspiratorially as Allison returns for the sales slip to sign.

"Yeah, hold up a bit, I think we're not entirely done shopping yet."

So Chloe was a good sport, in that she let me drag her around for a little while in uber femme mode, but damn if you never saw a woman who was SO glad to get out of a dress, and back into pants and a t-shirt.

She's such a dork! God I love that about her. Also: mmmmm...I am going to take so many pictures of her in that dress sometime soon. And then OUT of that dress.

Stlll, it WAS a weird little role reversal the hour that we went for our stroll. I don't know what it was, but I really had this weird boost of self-confidence and a massive case of "totally not giving a fuck about what the rest of the world thinks"-itis. Like, yay us for fucking around with whatever femme/butch dynamic inhabits our relationship. Chloe was much more demure and reserved though, almost hiding behind her hair on occasion as we'd pass people by. Although I must admit, the novelty wore off a bit after we got catcalled by the third group of frat boys. And then Chloe was all middle fingers and swear words.

Ugh. Stupid boys. Can't live with them, and for some reason it's illegal to throw rocks at them.

Alright, maybe Chloe WAS far more nuclear-hot and sexy in that dress and those gloves than I initially took into consideration, because after she changed, we attracted far less attention once we looked like a matching pair of leather and flannel wearing biker babes.

Speaking of which...

"Don't tell me you girls are actually looking to buy something?"

Mid-afternoon, and Chloe and I have ended up at a Harley-Davidson dealership in..um...San Mateo, I think? The sales guy, who eventually introduces himself as Jim, has the appearance of an overly tanned and weathered blonde in his fifties. I've got to hand it to him though, he definitely looks the part of someone who's seem infinity-plus miles riding on the road, and probably knows what he's talking about when he's trying to sell you on a motorcycle.

"What? Ah, nah...we're just kinda window shopping."

I hip-bump Chloe playfully and murmurs, "Babe, you know we've got a little money burning a hole in our bank account right now." I turn to the sales guy and say, "So yeah, show us what you got."

The both look at me, give almost the exact same "You've got to be bullshitting me." sort of expression.

I wrap an arm around Chloe and lean in to whisper, "What...ah...are you not interested? I mean, if you're not, that's okay, I just figured..."

"Oh, no no no. Oh God, no, I really would like to...I mean I think it'd be. Just. Really? You're into the idea? Of getting a motorcycle? What, we'd just tow it with the RV or something?"

I nod once and grin reassuringly, "Yeah. something like that."

"Hah. Wow. Okay, I just...it didn't seem like YOU. You know? Kinda dangerous and impulsive and...?"

"What? I can change! I can change!" I start to sing it a little, like from the South Park movie. I begin to poke and tickle at her ribs as she gives me A Look. "I can! Okay, maybe a year ago, the idea of me doing something like this would be a really foreign concept to all observers, and yeah, yeah, alright, as a girl growing up, I was always Carrie Caution, but shit hon. I've been through a lot. WE'VE been through a lot. I'd be lying if I said there wasn't something appealing about being able to take off onto the open road, just the two of us on a bike, whenever we wanted. Don't get me wrong, Princess Sparklefists is great, but she's literally our entire damn house on wheels. Makes it hard to get to places sometimes. Liiiike...the city. You know, we're burning through all this cash, on taxi trips and train fare, because we can't easily drive her back and forth in and out of the city."

I grab her hand, threading my fingers through, and lean against her. "So lets do this. Yeah, maybe it's kind of a crazy purchase, but it also super-makes sense for our situation, and it's something we can keep and enjoy for a few years. It's a lot better than dealing with the hassle of buying a smaller car and towing that instead. So there, does THAT sound more like me?"

She playfully swats my bottom and cries out, "O hell yeah! There's the practical, mature artiste I love and adore." She then turns to Jim and says, "'Kay then. We'll take one motorcycle, please. Don't hafta wrap it up, we'll just hop on and go."

I give my eyes and exaggerated roll, "Yeah, don't listen to her. Why don't you show us around, and we can figure out what works for what we need, and what we can afford to spend."

To his credit, despite an initial expression that says 'This is going to be a waste of my time' he does give us the tour of the various motorcycles. It's...I wish I'd done a bit more research on this sort of thing. Like...ANY research. My sudden impulsive streak is wearing off, but I'll hand it to Jim, he answers each and every one of my questions without giving me too much of a hard sell or leaving me feeling like a total idiot.

Chloe, being Chloe, is of course rushing about and poking at various bikes on the lot as Jim and I talk, hopping on them and pretending to be tearing down the highways of her mind.

"This chopper. This is the bike I want. It was SO destined for me, hon. C'mon embrace the destiny!"

I'll give it to her, this Harley, whatever the heck model it is, DOES make her look like a pimping road queen. I close my eyes for a moment and just imagine, roaring down some desert highway at top speed, my arms wrapped around her from behind, wind whipping against us, give a little shudder and sigh.

Okay. We need to do this. Even if it seems stupid and impulsive and dumb, I'm afraid I've already fallen in love with this vision that my mind's conjured up.

"First off," I murmur, "I get to drive as well as ride in the back. Second, that bike LOOKS cool, but it's gotta be hella uncomfortable after a while. And...uh...if we're going to go out on the road with it sometimes, I think it'll need saddlebags."

Jim intervenes before Chloe can respond, "It sounds like the two of you might like to look at a Switchback. It's a model that came out just a couple years ago, converts between street bike and touring modes. Looks nice, handles well, starts off with windshield, saddlebags and basic black finish."

Chloe quirks an eyebrow and hmmmmms, low in the back of her throat, "Can we test drive one or something?"

"Sure. We even rent bikes out by the week, if you want to take a little time to get a feel for it. I'd just need a deposit and a copy of your motorcycle license if you wanted to go in that direction."

Oh. Shit!

That's when it hits me. And Chloe, at the same time.

"Motorcycle license? Wait, you need a SEPARATE license for...for...c'mon, it's not that different from driving a car, right?"

Jim smiles thinly and pretends he didn't hear that. "Sorry. Different kind of license. Bit more involved, actually. A lot of states make you take a class and road training." I also can't help but notice that there is a somewhat pissed look in his eyes, because he sure as hell isn't making a sale today.

"Whoa, now wait a second, I've got an idea! Maybe we can..."

I hold out a hand, resting it on Chloe's shoulder and just shake my head to her. Then look over to Jim and say, "Looks like we ended up wasting your time today after all, Jim. Sorry about that."

He gives a languid shrug; if he's pissed, he's hiding it well. "That's alright, I appreciate the apology all the same. If you're serious though, get your licenses, and I'll make sure you get the best deal I can offer on one of these bad girls, yeah? Everyone's gotta start sometime, and I think you two would love it once you got your feet wet."

Chloe glances down forlornly at the street beast she's straddling, and reluctantly dismounts. Giving it a gentle pat, she murmurs, "Oh poor Chloe. Who knows how long it'll be before she knows the gentle touch of a half ton of hard, unrelenting steel between her legs once again?"

I choke back a cough, and quickly usher her off the lot, the blush burning my cheeks twice as hot now, but I can't help but laugh once we're out of earshot.

I wrap an arm tightly around her and nuzzle at her hair, cooing, "All that raw, aggressive vibrating power? Gonna ruin us for men, you know."

"Yeah, hell, we might even turn into lesbians or something. Oh shit babe, too late!" She leans over, and kisses me, hot, sweet, and quick.

I bite at her lips, shivering and stroking her cheek, returning the kiss and crooning, "Ooo nuu! You gave me your Gay!"

"Nya ha ha. Now you'll never know the sublime joy of hooking up with Warren and being his baby-mama five times over or something."

I visibly shudder, "Fuck! Don't put that shit in my head, dork! Antidote! Antidote!" I grab both cheeks now and pull her close, losing myself in yet another kiss that she's more than happy to provide.

As we trudge back to the commute train, she nips at my hair gently and asks, "Hey, so why did you shut me down back there? Not mad, but you seemed so, you know? Ready to jump into this without looking back. You getting cold feet? I mean, that's okay. I know we've been pushing our luck a lot this trip."

I roll my eyes in an overly dramatic fashion, "Shit, THAT'S putting it lightly! Between your idea in Colorado, and MY idea in Nevada, I'm surprised reality itself hasn't collapsed under the weight of ALL the stuff we're getting away with! Man, we were so...SO. But no, that's not it. Believe it or not, I want this. More than ever. I don't know how to describe it, but I can really see you and me doing this, and doing it for a long time. Like a serious thing, you know. So if that's the case, I don't want to try and cheat the system or tempt fate." I sigh and squeeze her hand tightly.

"I wanna do this right. From start to finish. Especially before we go throwing half of your casino winnings or more at this. I guess if I'm going to embrace this awesomely crazy idea, I want to do it as seriously and rationally as possible."

"Hah. Yeah, you're a fucking paradox sometimes, Buggy. Uh, but you realize this means I'll have to go back to Oregon and get a license. Oh! And I guess we'll need to take you back to Washington for the same."

I shake my head, "Nu-uh. I officially changed my place of residency when I moved in with your Mom and David, after I dropped out of Blackwell."

"Black-HELL!"

I pinch her side at that, smiling, "So no, I'm once again as much a legal resident of Arcadia Bay on paper as you now."

She slows to a stop, turns and looks at me, shifts her beanie for a moment, like she does when she gets nervous and doesn't want me to see it, but I TOTALLY see it because duh, and says, "Well, maybe you wanna go back to Seattle anyhow. You probably haven't seen your parents in a while, and I never got to see your old life there."

I tilt my head this way and that, "Wow, that was...specifically specific."

"Just sayin'."

"Hah. Yeah. Seattle. God. My old life. Old, with a capital Oh. It all seems like a dream. But...maybe you're right, maybe we should. There ARE some amazing places there I'd like to show you. Food, and the Space Needle, and all kinds of things. Friends I haven't talked to in a year and WOW do I suck as a friend."

"Mmmyeahthen. So another week or so, and we pull up stakes and head back up the coast?"

"Sure, baby. And don't think I didn't notice that you've got a plan, because I totally see you have a plan."

"I have no fucking clue what you're talking about."

I start to skip around her in circles. "A Plan! A Plan! You haaas it." I sing over and over. "And I knoooow it!"

She shakes her head and reaches into her jacket, pulling out a cigarette. Lighting it up, she mutters, trying to assume an air of nonchalance, "You are SO fucking weird sometimes, Maxima. You're lucky I love you too much to care."

I hug her side tightly, and whisper, just barely loud enough to be heard, "Yeah. I AM lucky. I'm the luckiest girl in the world."

"Oh my Goddess! This...this is so damn awesome! Chloe, did you seriously bribe God or someone to make the sunset this perfect? Because if you spent everything in the Biker Mama fund, I'm gonna be - uh - well...moderately pissed I guess."

Would I be a horrible girlfriend if I admitted that sometimes I'm really surprised by how creative my Chloe can be? It sounds like I'm selling her short though; it's just that she's come off as a slacker for so long - until recently at least - part of me sort of expects to be let down a little bit.

Note to self: STOP IT. Because right now, spread out on this picnic cloth, perched up on a little hill, we are getting the best view of BOTH the Golden Gate Bridge and Alcatraz Island illuminated by the setting sun. If anything I'M being a shitty girlfriend right now, taking about fiftyzillionmillion pictures, trying to capture the absolutely perfect moment. And here's Chloe laying out her own little version of tappas: olives, grapes, crusty bread and cheeses and meats, actual factual patatas bravas and a bottle of champaign. Even a dippy, but oh-so-classic candelabra adding it's own light to the quickly dying rays of golden, liquid sun.

"Would you and my Dad's camera like to be alone, or do you guys have an open relationship?"

I blush, and lower the instamatic, smiling sheepishly to Chloe, who's stretched out on her side, as if to say that she's also part of the spread. Yum yum yum.

"How's it go? A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and my baby who sexes me up super good?"

"Close enough. I whisper, and lean in, snagging the little slice of bread topped with prosciutto that she's holding out for me, taking my time to lick and nibble at her fingertips, keeping my eyes positively locked onto hers as I chew delicately.

Swallowing at last, I breathe out, "Really, really good, Chlo."

"Yeah, right? I'm gonna miss this place. We'll just have to keep coming back."

Time passed by at it's own unhurried pace; after my strange little adventure, I've never not fully appreciated how differently we perceive it's passing based on current events and company. I can't help but wonder if it's a trick of the mind, or if we actually do subconsciously control the flow.

We don't talk much, at least not with words. We eat, mostly feeding each other. We drink the wine, we savor our own quiet company, in that rare, lovely place where we can truly enjoy the silence without the awkward need to stay chatty and engaged.

There is such peace, as sunset turns to dusk, then to the first purplish hint of twilight. Like a bubble of pure joy surrounds our small corner of the park; takes the ground, and the air and the light, and makes it into a world that exists only for the two of us. I lay back, spreading out, and soak it all in, more content than I can ever remember feeling before.

"I hope you saved room for dessert, Buggy! Because I haaave...birf-dae cake!" She starts to rummage around the old-timey pick-a-nic type basket, of the sort that Yogi Bear is always hunting down.

"Oh! Yeah! Can't wait to see what you got me."

She smirks, still rummaging and says, "I gaat yoo a caak! I made it with my doo!"

I groan, tossing a small, leftover crust of bread at her head, and just barely miss. "If you love me, like really, truly, fucking love me, there will be no more Family Guy references!"

Chloe groans out, "Fine." Naturally I steeple my fingers onto my tummy and gloat, "Victory is mine!"

"Don't make me run off with the cake bitch, because I totally will!"

"Oh shut up, and show me already! I wanna see what you got."

"Fine, close your eyes. Yeah. Yeah that's right, keep them closed."

I hear her rummaging around, and after another few seconds, there is the distinctive sound of metal hitting flint from a Zippo lighter. She then intones, barely above a whisper, "Open them eyes now, babe."

When I do, Chloe has her legs curled up underneath her, holding up what looks like an oversized red velvet cupcake, large enough to feed three or four people, with a single purple candle sticking up from the middle. The pose, the half lid of her eyes, the come-hither smile; it all makes her look like some sort of fifties pinup girl. And I suppose that's exactly the look she goes for as she starts to sing, in an over-exaggerated impression of Marilyn Monroe:

"Happy birthday to you.
My hair was once blue.
You look like a hottie.
And you taste like one too!"

I dissolve into giggles at this, before quickly blowing out the candle and snagging a kiss from her.

"Go one. Take a bite. You know you wanna."

"Fine, then cut me a slice, homeslice."

"Nah. None of this 'plates' and 'forks' and 'civil behavior' bullshit. You just go and take a big ol' bite out of it. It's a fat-ass cupcake right? Eat it like one!"

"Holy shit, for cereal? Yes!"

I probably look completely ridiculous doing it, but I gotta admit, there's a certain amount of visceral decadence that is truly satisfying, just biting into a whole cake like that. It's even better when the love of your life chomps away slowly at the other end. The cake is quickly put down when we just decide to lick frosting off our cheeks and lips for a while.

"So whatcha wish for, Max Damage?"

"Can't tell you, Chloe Girl. But if you have to know, I wanted an awesome day with my lady, and clearly the wish came true and then worked in reverse. Because MAGIC!, bitches." We're laughing like we're crazy for a minute, and then I reach over, licking the last of the frosting off the tip of her nose. "Really though. Thank you, baby. This has been THE best day of my life. It didn't have to be crazy or cosmic or anything like that, I just needed quality time with you, and damn if you didn't deliver in metric fucktons." I lean against her and murmurs, "Yeah. Right here. Don't think it gets any better than this moment, right here."

A prolonged pause passes between us. I can literally feel the 'gulp' going through Chloe's throat and chest as she stammers out, "I-I'd like to give it a try, M-Max. If you just give me a moment. 'Kay?" She turns around, reaching into the basket, and then hiding something in her fist. She then grabs my hand with the other one and pulls me up. "You...you gotta be standing for this, okay?"

Lazily, I play along, more than happy to see where this is going. Initially, I have no idea what she could possibly have in mind. But then...

...then it hits me between the eyes.

Oh shit. I know what's coming. Of COURSE this is coming, how could I not see that she'd...?

My heart starts to drum fast and quick in my chest, but I do my best to keep my face pleasantly neutral. I want...I need to hear what Chloe's going to say.

"We - well, we've been through a lot of shit together, haven't we? I mean since day one. Halloweens and birthdays, and movies and art and when my cat died, and when your dog got run over, and oh my God, the first time we both got grounded because that time we stayed out all night."

She takes a shaky, labored breath, squeezing my hand tight, as she struggles to continue. I just fix my best, warmest, most supportive smile, willing her to continue.

"And then it - it - stopped. Dad died. And right after that, your family up and moves to Seattle. Things got really fucked up between us you know? I said some pretty lousy shit, about how you should have been a better friend, and demanding to know how could you be leaving me. And you tried to reach out to me, a few times. Tried to keep the friendship going but I let it die off. I was so wrapped up in my own anger and frustration and self-pity that I almost let the best thing in my life fade away completely. But I want you to know that I..."

"Chloe." I interrupt. "It-it wasn't all on you. I gave up too easy. I let it slip away, and I especially was a shitty friend not getting in touch with you as soon as I came back to -"

She puts a finger to my lips, shhhing me. "Babe. No offense, but seriously, let me take the blame for this. It'll sound better for when I finally ask...ah shit!" She winces, and then shakes her head. "Fuck. Let me just - let me just make this quick. You saved my life, Max. Literally, figuratively. I was this angry girl getting myself into worse and worse trouble. Self destructive and shit. You know it's true, because look where it got me, in that bathroom! And you saved my life twice: once when you pushed the gun away so that I could survive the shot, and second, when you gave me a reason to live."

Her eyes start to water, and she sniffles, reaching up to daub at them. "Hearing that you loved me was the last thing I took with me before passing out into a coma. Did you know that? Maybe I didn't have time to process or understand it, but it gave me what I needed so I could hang on, fight, stay alive. I KNOW it did. And then you were there, right beside me in my hospital bed when I woke up, the woman from five years out of my past, with declarations of undying love, and a hella crazy acid dream of a story about timelines and shit. With proof! So...just...you just..."

She falls to her knees, head bowed, and in a tiny, vulnerable voice, pushes out the question burning at the tip of her tongue, "Maxine Caulfield, will you marry me? I-I've loved for what seems like my whole life. A life I need you to be in. Probably sounds pathetic, but I'm only half a person without you. They say friendship is one soul in two bodies; so please, just keep being the other half of my soul."

She finally reveals what she's been hiding in her hands. The diamond ring.

It still catches me by surprise. I mean, I knew this was coming, I just KNEW it, and yet - everything goes still. My vision starts to elongate, and suddenly I'm caught up in a memory of another time, another place.

"...still struggling to explain the freak weather, as record gales are being reported around the Arcadia Bay area. With funnel clouds already forming, meteorologists are predicting wind speed force in excess of F-4, possibly as high as F-5. As the National Guard mobilizes, mandatory evacuations are being called for..."

I stare out at the window, hugging myself against the chills as I listen to the emergency radio and watch the product of my hubris take physical form. Alone, in the dark, the power having gone out about ten minutes earlier.

I did this.

This was all on me.

I have to be the one to fix it.

A hand rests on my shoulder, causing me to jump, turn around. Chloe is there, smiling softly, leaning in to kiss my lips with gentle grace.

"Hey."

"Chloe! What are you doing here? Please tell me Joyce and David are out at least? I told you, you need to go with - "

"Maxima, chill. No worries, they're hella gone, probably two counties away by now. I kinda - well - I slipped away. I gave her a note though, told her not to worry about me."

The pain gnaws in my chest, travels its way up my sternum, through my throat, until it twists my face into an outward mask of heartache.

"This isn't your fight, Chloe." I breathe out. "This is literally between me and - and - and whatever the hell is happening .Maybe Time and Space itself. You need to get out and ..."

"I NEED to be HERE! With you, Max. With you, by your side. I mean shit, you don't think this scares me? Because fuck it all, it sure does. But you know what scares me more? The thought that you could ever think I wouldn't be here for you, by your side. That after letting you go for five whole years, I'd ever do it again. God damn monster tornado can jump up my vagina for all I care, but I'm not leaving you. We'll get through this, together. You can do it Max. You can make this right. I know you can."

Hot tears sting my eyes, burn their way down slowly across my cheeks. She envelops me in her arms, her faith and her love, stroking my hair and shushing me. There's so much I want to tell her now, and so little time to say it.

Our fingers meet, intermeshing and lazily playing together. I stroke her left ring finger, a sudden inspiration arising unbidden.

"If - I...WHEN we get through this, how about we stop playing pretend on where this is going, you know? For reals." I wrap a meaningful pinky around her ring finger.

She doesn't hesitate. She doesn't stumble, or question. No 'Are you fucking kidding me, it's only been five days!'. She cups my face, runs her hands through my hair and nods once.

"Yeah. Let's. For reals."

"Just like that?"

"Duh! Don't you think it's pretty obvious this is where things were going anyhow? Because I do. If we don't know each other by now, after growing up together, then we won't ever know, will we?"

I think to point out that the five years between thirteen and eighteen are a massive gulf but I think I like her simple headstrong explanation better.

Reluctantly, I pull away. "It's time. I have to go. Go and do this. Somehow pull a city saving rabbit out of my hat."

She takes my hand and squeezes, clearly brooking no dissent. "So what's the plan, babe?"

"Don't have one yet." I confess. "Pretty sure I will when the time is right, though."

I lie. I DO have a plan. Initially a failsafe backup, but one that screams towards me with impending, inescapable certainty. A plan that sits heavily in my back pocket, one that takes the form of a picture of a blue morpho in the girls bathroom. The one I snapped, far and away, in the the yawning eternity that was this past Monday morning.

Would have been nice to have been her bride. For reals. But I don't think that's in the cards for me.

"Max? Maaax? H-hello? Hey, not funny. Don't keep me hanging here, or...or I'm gonna."

"Yes." I mouth out the word silently.

Chloe tilts her head, uncertain what she's just seen.

Swallowing down the last remaining remembered chill of a time that now exists only for me, I look down, smiling through my tears of joy.

"I said: you better put a fucking ring on it already."

I hold my left hand out, in an accepting, almost submissive fashion. Chloe's hands tremble as she fumbles to slip the ring over it. A perfect fit; either it was luck, or she was sneaky and took a measurement off a piece of my jewelry when I wasn't looking.

I can feel a soft, delightful 'click' in the back of my brain, as I look down. See the tracings of my tattoo, from the start of the blue morpho, splitting out into the increasingly infinite threads of a vine, with multicolored butterflies inhabiting each strand. All of which ultimately find termination towards my fingers. Towards one finger in particularly.

My obvious and now permanent destiny.

NOW it's complete.

I'm entranced as I gaze into the diamond, a good half carat or more, with what must be the goofiest grin on my face, like I'm totally high as fuck. Which, you know, I actually DO know how that feels like now. But this is just a little bit better.

Still down on her knees, and looking up, she smirks winsomely. "Y'know, it's not official unless you actually say 'yes'. You didn't say it, and we're legally not engaged or anything, so you better..."

"YES!" I tackle her down onto the ground, covering her face in kisses until she's drowning in my absolutely and utterly unrestrained love for her. "Every second yes, and every minute yes, every hour and every day and every month and every year, YES!"

We both start to laugh drunkenly, and as she rolls around on the ground with me, "Don't have to say it more than once, I get the point."

"Oh SHUT up you bitch!" I yell as I start to tickle her mercilessly.

"Wait! Wait, ah! No no no! Not fair!" She's laughing and squirming, struggling to escape my grip. After a minute, she rolls me onto my back, pinning me down to the ground, At this point, I am so excited by the moment, she could make love to me right here and now, and I wouldn't care that we'd be putting on a show for all the people still in the park. Whom we must already be drawing the attention of.

It's why I don't immediately notice when Chole jumps up, cups her hands, and yells out, "HEY SAN FRAN! I JUST PROPOSED TO MY GIRLFRIEND, WHOM I'VE LOVED SINCE I WAS SIX!"

I start to lose it, curling up and laughing, "Oh! Oh - oh God, Chlo-chlo! You're crazy!"

But you have to hand it to San Francisco, and it's fair citizens. While most people ignore it, there are a few cheers, claps, and one flamboyant-sounding guy who calls out, "Well don't keep us in suspense! What did she say?!"

I wobble onto my feet and scream out, "YOU BETTER BELIEVE I SAID YES!"

"Good! Because that would have been really embarrassing otherwise! Now kiss!"

Wrapping an arm around my middle, and dipping me low, Chloe and and I do just that, to a few more cheers and applause.

I mutter against her mouth, "Oh God, you're right. I love this city!"

"We could always honeymoon here, Ms. Price."

"Whoa whoa whoa. Wait a second. Who says I'm taking your name. You could just as easily be Ms. Caulfield."

Chloe gives me the stinkeye, but she's only able to hold it for a few seconds before calling out, "Oh boy! Our first fight as an engaged couple!"

It turns out that Chloe had at least one more surprise for me, in the form of this gorgeous Parisian-style outdoor cafe. Sugaring me up with even more goodies, most of which she got for free because she kept telling the waiters that not only was it my birthday, but we just got engaged; things like cream pastries and this hot chocolate that was like blissful death in a motherfucking cup. I wasn't going to be sleeping anytime soon. But I had a feeling it wouldn't be the caffeine and sugar keeping me up.

But they stayed open late, letting me and Chloe slow dance until an hour past midnight, to the strains of violin and accordion. The world existed for us, and us alone.

"Best. Day. Ever."

"Yeah, now I'm going to have to propose to you every birthday, just to keep up with expectations."

"Speaking of expectations, I think you should now that you and I are totally taking tango lessons."

"Oh yeah? What for."

"For our wedding day, dummy! I've already got our first dance planned out. And the song for it."

"Oh REALLY now? What song?"

"Can't tell you. It's a surprise."

"The fuck, Maxima? It's hardly 'our song' if I don't even know what it is."

"It'll be the song you and me tango to on our wedding day. That'll make it special enough."

She snorts derisively at that. "Oh shit. You're gonna be a total Bridezilla, aren't you? I can already tell."

"No. Well, maybe yes? Shit, you better be prepared to kick my ass on occasion if you want any say in planning things out. I give you permission. And I'm going to have to tell...oh damn! Sweetie? Since we're going to Arcadia Bay again anyhow, can we stop by Seattle after? I really should tell my folks, and I REALLY should tell them in person."

"Sure, we can go back, but you won't be surprising them."

"...whaaat's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, c'mon. You don't think I'm going to just propose to you without asking Ryan, do you? For his blessing? Oh, he and your Mom say hi, by the way, and complained you don't call home enough."

I start to cough hard. "Oh. My. Fucking...REALLY? You asked my DAD for his permission to marry me?! What is this, like 1956? Gee wilikers! Good gosh a mighty Wally, I sure hope Mr. Wilson lets me take my best gal to the sock hop before the Commies from North Korea take over!"

"Oh shut up, Caulfield! You totally know you love it anyhow. All the fuss and attention I put into this."

I snicker against her shoulder, giving it a tiny lick as I confess. "You're right. I do." And then once more stare up at my outstretched hand, and the ring perched upon it.

"Oh babe, you ever going to stop ogling that thing?"

"Noooooo. Nevah! But seriously, I swear I've seen it before, like it's familiar, but I just can't figure out how or why."

Chloe slows a bit, in our dance. "Uh. Because. Um." Her chest heaves with a large sigh, as she lets the cat out of the bag. "It's Joyce's. I mean, it was the one my Dad gave her."

Dad. She means...

"William." I breathe out, prompting a single nod and a slow, sad smile from her.

I stop her dancing with me entirely ,too consumed with crushing the air from her frame with the force of the hug I give her. I barely even understand the tidal wave of emotion as is comes crashing down on me; one moment, all is still and calm, and I am completely lost in my lady. The next...

"Oh - oh my God. Oh. My. God." I almost start to hyperventilate, closing my fist tight, and nuzzling her like I'm going crazy. "Chloe. Baby, oh God. I'm...I know it hurts for you, but I miss him so much. Right this minute! I'm...I'm never gonna get a chance to call him 'Dad', either. And- and."

It's too much. I completely decompensate, collapsing against her, and begin sobbing.

"I'm sorry! Oh God, I'm so, so sorry Chloe! I'm sorry! I tried to save him. I tried so hard, for so long! I couldn't figure out how. Please forgive me, I couldn't...couldn't figure out how to save you both!"

I continue sobbing, inconsolable. It's a while before I come to my senses. Long before then, Chloe manages to pay what little remains of our check and hurry me out of the cafe.

"I'm sorry. I kinda ruined our night, didn't I"

Chloe smacks my bottom. "Babe, none of that. First off, it was YOUR own damn birthday to ruin, and second, you didn't ruin a thing. Lot of emotion going down, and I filled you up with sugar and..." She sighs heavily and fiddles self-consciously with one of her bangs. "I guess I'll admit, part of me was kind of surprised that hit you so hard. I mean, no offense, Buggy, but I feel I should be the one breaking down in tears." She smiles though, taking out whatever sting might have lain in that comment.

"Maybe" I say softly. "But he was like a father to me too, Chloe. You've met my parents. You know them. They love me, and they're good people, but my Mom, and especially my Dad are kind of...mmmm...emotionally reserved? I mean, they aren't cold, but in my family, we tend to keep a stiffer upper lip. But Joyce and William, and even David, they wear their hearts on their sleeves. They're good, passionate people, and yes, even David, stop rolling your eyes. And you do it too. It just really meant the world to me, how kind and how sweet and just awesome he was to me. Shit, I need to stop talking or I'm going to cry again."

Chloe groans low, and then hugs me, "Well fuck, now *I* should be the one apologizing. I really took it bad, when you first told me about how you managed to save my Dad for a little bit. And what you had to do, how you had to take it all back in the end, let him die...I mean...how you had to...fuck!" She squeezes my hand tight and says, "I was such a shitheel to you, for a whole week, and I'm sorry again for the way I acted. Look baby, let's put all this crap behind us right now. Despite the fuckitudinalness of things in general on planet Earth, it sounds to me like this lS really the best of all possible worlds, right? Because I know Dad, and he- he wouldn't. I mean if he knew that him living meant that there was no choice but for me to be stuck in a..." She bites down on her bottom lip, trembling.

She finishes with a slight croak, "Anyhow, yeah. You're right. It would have been nice. But let's just accept that wherever he is right now, he'd be so happy to know we're getting married."

I dash the remaining tears from my eyes and just nod. "Sounds good."

"Feel better?"

"A bit. I'm still going to need to process it, a little while, but it doesn't have to be right now."

We walk silently, hand in hand, the remaining mile to our RV in the trailer park.

Chloe turns to me and asks, "Still, that was a pretty fucking decent proposal, right? Awesome, yeah? Really, I WAS pretty awesome with it."

"Ha! Not to mention humble. But yes, it was sexy, and sweet, and cool, and wonderful. Just like you."

"Mmmmmroow. Well then, wife-to-be. How about I make you an INDECENT proposal?"

I give Chloe my best version of the look she calls 'Kawaii Bitch Kitten'. "Dunno. Does it start with you bending me over the kitchen table and giving me a bunch of birthday spankings before fucking me savagely with the strap on while feeding me bite-sized morsels of what's left of my birthday cake?"

In a low, dark tone, Chloe answers, "Well...fuck.. It sure as hell does now!"

We definitely don't get any sleep until well into the morning. But a decent proposal? Yeah, that's putting it mildly.

A/N: WHEW! Damn yo, that was a bit of a slog. It's mostly been that work has been crushing me lately. Extra super hard. I had to steal little snatches of time during lunch, and maybe a few minutes before bed, and just eek this out bit by bit. And believe me, this is one of those chapters that just takes FOREVER to push out. Where it just doesn't feel like it's ever coming out right, and there is just a point where you have to pull the trigger and let it go, or you never will publish. There were actually good chunks of a thousand words here and there that I wrote, then had totally toss, and redo in a different fashion. Getting used to that though, believe it or not, the very first chapter of this story was a good 6000 words, and NEVER saw the light of day. The good news is that pieces of it have been lifted and spread out in a couple of other chapters. Also, wow! Look at the size this chapter came out to! Woo!

So I wanna do some shout outs tonight, because good people need all the support they can get.

First, rowanred81, who burst onto the LiS scene barely two months ago, and has, in that time, written almost as many words as I have in over two years. I mean damn yo, they're a writing mo-chine! And it's damn good stuff, especially "Teenage Dirtbag" so check it out. I just wish I had more time to read.

Speaking of which, a shout-out to my good bud RED78910, who is a wiz at OC's. Really, some of the best realized and belivable original characters in the Mass Effect universe come from his Unsung War series, so check it out, okay?

valathe, who wrote one of the best Elsanna stories I've read, Red Hair, Red Blood, which is one of the most realistic depictions of a touchy, contraversial subject. It was brought to my attention by another writer, Szept, who also does good, touchy stuff. But Val and I have had a blast potentially plotting out for an alternate ending/sequel to RHRB, so...maybe some day. It's all Szepts fault if it happens, just like it was his fault that A Power Greater Than My Own saw the light of day.

metaladdict is a longtime member of my peanut gallery from the OMUTB days, and has started writing his first Fallout New Vegas fic, The Queen, The Monster, And The Child. I seriously need time to catch up on this one, but he does well, especially given that English is not his first language. I'm always up for life in the awesome New Vegas-verse!

And finally, I will NEVER NOT praise the work of my editorial Sistah-From-Another-Mistah Corentin IV, who has herself been struggling mightily these days with the Beast of Ar-El, which cruelly keeps her from working on her stupidly fantastic 22 Sinchi series. Soon, soon, precious, we wants it! :-D

Anyhow, have a great weekend, and stay frosty, chicky-boos.

7-28-15: Now that Max's parent's names are cannon, per Episode 4, I decided to go back and edit this chapter appropriately. I almost didn't know, I kind of like Alex and Dahlia better (what rowanred81 came up with.)