Author's Notes: I am sorry for the very long delay. I was originally wanting this chapter to encompass a moment for each of three days but I could never find the way to accomplish that.

When I finally decided to just focus on this one afternoon, the chapter came relatively easy. I hope it's enjoyable enough to compensate a little for the wait and I hope my dealing with one topic feels as if it comes from a respectful place.


Chapter 22

Day 6

Maeve waited impatiently near the entrance to the school grounds, cigarette in hand, glaring as the car carrying the remaining Untouchables approached. Anwar was driving, Olivia was on her phone and Ruby was studying Maeve with a haughty sneer on her face.

"Hoping to pick up some passing trade, Wiley?" Ruby called and smirked as Maeve gave her the finger, moving her arm to follow the car as it passed her and travelled along the road.

When Maeve turned back toward the school, her heart lifted at the sight of Otis wheeling his bike out the entrance toward her. She noticed his gaze flickering between her face and the retreating car.

"Hey," she said as he reached her.

"Hey," he said in response then glanced again at the car before looking back at Maeve. "I couldn't quite hear. What did she say?"

"Doesn't matter," Maeve said and rose to kiss him. "Missed you."

"Missed you, too," Otis said as he put his free arm around her. She pressed against him.

"I can tell," she smirked as their first kiss of the day finished.

Otis coughed, embarrassed.

"How many today?" Maeve asked, smirking.

"Other than now and this morning, just one."

"That's not too bad."

"At assembly."

Maeve bit her lip to stop herself laughing.

"It's not funny, Maeve."

"It is."

"And I faced the wrong way when I was hurrying to get out."

"Who copped an eyeful?"

"Doesn't matter."

"Come on. Who was it?"

Otis sighed. "Ruby and Olivia and Anwar."

Maeve's face fell.

"I was wondering if she said something about that."

"No," Maeve said, subdued.

"So what did she say?"

"Doesn't matter."

Otis' face fell in understanding and he said, flatly, "Something shitty."

"Fuck her," Maeve muttered.

"Wouldn't go near her with a barge pole," Otis muttered darkly.

Maeve looked up at him and smiled.

"What?" Otis asked, puzzled.

"A week ago you wouldn't have said anything even close to that."

"You deserve better. Especially from her."

"Just forget her. We gotta get moving. Appointment's at four."


Maeve sat on the back of Otis' bike, her arms wrapped around his waist and his spare helmet covering her head as she leant it against his back, eyes closed, savouring the moment as he pedalled them along the forest lane.

"Did you ever go riding?" Otis asked.

"Can't ride. Couldn't afford a bike."

"Do you want to?"

"We're doing it now."

"I mean, separate bikes."

"I told you, I can't ride."

"You'll pick it up."

"Where will we get another bike? I can't afford to even rent one."

"I have an old one in the shed. Can fix it up. You can use that."

"Where would we go?"

"Lots of bike trails around here. Eric and I used to go all the time. Haven't done it much lately."

"Okay," Maeve murmured after a moment. "But if I break my neck, I'll come back and haunt you."

"You won't break your neck. You can practice on our way back if you like."

"Okay."

"Great" Otis said, pleased.

"So what other boyfriend/girlfriend stuff have you got in mind for us?" Maeve asked, smiling gently to herself as she anticipated his answer.

"What do you want to do?" Otis asked.

Maeve thought for a moment, scrunching her face. "Dunno."

"Come on," urged Otis. "There must be something you want to do."

Maeve thought for a moment then smirked gently to herself. "Swim naked under the stars in Llyn y Fan Fach."

"Where's that?"

"Twynllanan."

"Where's that?"

"Somewhere in Wales. Not sure exactly where. That way, I think," she said, nodding in a particular direction and forgetting he couldn't see her at this moment.

"How do you know about it?"

"Saw it on a doco about the best places to swim naked in Wales. It looks beautiful."

Otis shook his head, smiling to himself. "I can't believe my first girlfriend is an exhibitionist."

"What do you mean 'first girlfriend'?" Maeve said, surprised by the pang that suddenly cut through her heart.

"What?" asked Otis, puzzled.

"You said 'first girlfriend'."

"You are my first girlfriend," Otis said, not understanding.

"That means you think there's going to be a second?"

"What?" said Otis, startled.

"Have you given me an expiry date already or is it just a vague whenever you're sick of me feeling?"

"No," said Otis, forcefully.

"Have you got the next model lined up waiting?" Maeve muttered and Otis felt the undertone of bitterness in her voice slice through him.

Bitterness and something else he couldn't quite recognise.

He released a few guttural sounds then said, "I'm stopping the bike. Put your feet down."

"No, just… just keep going. It doesn't matter," Maeve said.

Otis stopped the bike, letting his feet steady it and turned his head, grimacing as he realised he couldn't see Maeve's face.

"Hold the bike steady," he said as he glanced down to see she had planted her feet firmly on the ground and then he awkwardly dismounted the bike, doing his best not to kick her in the head.

"Otis, look it's…"

He stepped towards her, holding the crossbar to assist in keeping the bike steady and not have it rise up with all the weight now solely at the back. "Are you… are you being serious…"

Maeve looked at him, shrugged and said, "I'm just fucking with you, muppet," before glancing away.

"I never meant… I just meant…"

"We should keep going. We'll be late."

Otis gently reached out to touch her hand. "Maeve…?"

Maeve pressed her lips together and glanced sideways at Otis. She blinked a few times, took a breath and looked directly at him. "I'm sorry. I just… I over-reacted. I'm sorry."

Otis ran his eyes across her face, struggling to understand.

She leaned forward and whispered, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, Maeve. I never meant—"

"I know," she murmured.

"I don't want to ever have any other girlfriend. I only want you."

Maeve pressed her lips together and held back a sniffle.

"If you want to talk…" Otis murmured quietly.

"We should get going."

"We've got some time. We're nearly there."

Maeve glanced down. "It hasn't gone away yet," she said.

Otis glanced down and sighed. "No."

"Do you want me to help you get rid of it?"

"You don't have to."

"I want to. We can go over there," she said, using her head to indicate a cluster of bushes nearby.

Otis studied her and realised she was putting on this mood as an attempt to put the last few minutes behind herself.

"Okay," he murmured, forcing a small smile to rise upon his lips.


Maeve put her pen down and turned to Otis sitting in the chair beside her, shaking her head and smiling as she studied the intense concentration on his face while he stared at the page before him.

She leaned over and whispered, "It's not a physics quiz, muppet."

"I don't know how to answer this question," he said, frustrated.

"Which question?" Maeve asked, trying to look at his place on the page.

"'When was the last time you had sex?'" he whispered.

"You said you never had sex," Maeve said, cautiously.

"Well, technically, what… earlier… that was sex," Otis said, glancing around the clinic waiting area, hoping no-one could hear him.

Maeve sighed. "They mean sex that involves the exchange of bodily fluids."

"Are you sure?"

"That's how I've always answered it."

"So that would be Sunday morning?"

"Yes."

"Or would that be Saturday night for me when I…?"

"Oh, just put down fifteen minutes ago," Maeve snapped in a too-loud voice then closed her eyes, berating herself as the instant replay of Otis jumping in his chair and bending over to quickly write on the page crossed her inner vision.

She opened her eyes and leant over, kissing his shoulder gently and murmuring, "I'm sorry for snapping."

Otis glanced at her and gave her his best quick, reassuring smile then turned back to the page.

Maeve glanced around the foyer and noticed people quickly turning their gaze away from her then she sensed Otis sitting back and turned to face him.

He was staring at her like a kicked puppy hoping for a 'good boy'.

She cursed herself then, reaching over for the clipboard in his hands, murmured, "I'll take these over."

He let her take the clipboard and she sensed him watching her as she stood and walked to the counter.

As she handed both her own and Otis' clipboards to the woman with the carefully-neutral face sitting behind the counter, Maeve sensed a presence beside herself and a familiar too-loud voice state, "Oh, aye, you kept him 'round, then?"

Maeve looked up and recognised Sarah's face from her previous visit to the clinic.

As Maeve struggled to find something to say, Sarah turned and called across to Otis, "She's not as hard as she sounds, this one. She's a real softy."

Maeve heard him say, "I know," as Sarah turned back to face her.

"Thought you said he wasn't your type?" Sarah asked with a knowing smirk.

"I don't have a type," Maeve said.

"I said you should keep the sweet ones around."

"You were right," Maeve conceded with a soft smile.

"Mum," said a voice from near the door and Maeve glanced over to see a girl about her own age staring at them.

"Coming, Your Highness," Sarah sighed then looked at Maeve. "Checkup for her, this time. Hoping she doesn't make the same mistakes I do."

"Mum, I've got to get back."

Sarah rolled her eyes and winked at Maeve then turned to look at Otis and called, "You look after this one. Treat her like a princess."

Maeve pressed her lips together and watched Sarah walk over to her daughter who opened the door.

"No more strays, mum," she heard the daughter hiss as they stepped through it.

"Oh, Princess Einstein doesn't need a mother," she heard Sarah reply before the door closed behind them.

Maeve smiled gently as she walked over to the clearly befuddled Otis and sat beside him again. She leaned closer to him and muttered, only half-teasingly, "Call me princess and I will bite your scrote, okay?"

Otis stared into Maeve's eyes for a moment, a smirk rising on his lips, then said, "Xena was a princess."

Maeve bit her lip then gently put her hand on his arm and rested her head against his shoulder and murmured, "I don't deserve you."

"'Deserve's got nothin' to do with it'," she heard him growl softly.

"Who the hell was that?" Maeve asked, face scrunching.

"Clint Eastwood. Unforgiven."

"I don't like Westerns. Or Eastwood."

"Oh? That's one of my favourites."

"I didn't say you couldn't like them."

"'It's a hell of a thing killin' a man. You take away all he's got and all he's ever gonna have,'" he said in that soft growl which she tried to convince herself wasn't causing a reaction down there.

"Don't go fucking quoting movies," she muttered.

"'We all got it coming, kid.'"

"'Say that again. Say that again. I dare you. I double dare you, motherfucker. Say that one more goddamn time.'"

Otis was silent for a moment then said, apologetically, "Actually, it's 'say 'what' again.'"

"Whatever."


Maeve and Otis emerged from the clinic, the door closing behind them as they walked to the lift. She glanced wistfully at the closed doors of the sushi restaurant then pressed the button to the lift and turned to her boyfriend.

"Did they stick anything up your nose?" she asked.

"No. You?"

"Not up my nose."

Otis winced. "Does it hurt?"

"It's uncomfortable."

The door to the lift opened and they stepped inside. Otis pressed the button for the ground floor.

"Does that mean I can't return the favour tonight?" he asked.

"They're not favours," Maeve sighed.

"Sorry."

"Why did they fucking come up with terms like that?" Maeve muttered, annoyed.

"Give you a gift?" Otis asked, plaintively.

"'Get me off' is good enough."

"So…?" Otis asked, tentatively.

The doors of the lift opened and they stepped out into the building foyer.

"I'll see," she murmured as she walked to the exit, Otis beside her.


Maeve watched Otis as he unlocked his bike then she asked, "Where now?"

"Are you hungry?"

"Yeah," she said.

"There's a takeaway just up there. Outdoor seating. I walked past it last time."

"Should have got me a burger then."

"You didn't like the sandwich?"

"I loved it," Maeve said, quickly and sincerely.

"I didn't know what to get you," Otis said, diffidently.

"You made perfect choices, muppet," Maeve said.

Otis gave her a soft smile. "I hope it's still open," he said and began walking his bike up the hill away from the clinic. Maeve walked beside him.

"So did they say when you'll get your results back?" she asked.

"Friday, she said."

"I've got to wait until the middle of next week for the last one."

Otis was silent for a moment then said, quietly, "I'm sorry I upset you, Maeve."

"Oh, it wasn't you, Otis. I just…"

"I can't imagine you not being my girlfriend now," he said before he could stop himself.

Maeve stared at him, sensing the emotions roiling beneath his surface.

"I'm so lucky you like me," he said. "I never—"

"I was just being stupid," Maeve said, quietly, clearly annoyed with herself.

"Did you think…?" His voice trailed away as he failed to understand what he was wanting to say.

Maeve blinked and glanced around then looked at him. "It's just… when you said 'first' I immediately flashed to 'second' and 'third' and… I was just startled. The thought of…"

Otis shook his head and Maeve swallowed.

"I've had two guys who were actually boyfriends," she said, determined. "Including Jackson. And I was hoping the third time's the charm, you know? And then, when you said that, I just thought, for you, maybe the third time will be your charm."

"No, Maeve…" Otis murmured.

"And I just freaked out. Fight or flight. I'm very good at that."

"Maeve, no…" Otis said, earnestly. "Jackson said… I told you. He thought you could be the one. That's how I feel. That's what I want. For you to be…"

Maeve's face crumpled. "Bloody hell, Otis," she said and neither one of them could tell if she was laughing or crying.

"Maeve…?" Otis began, concerned, and stopped wheeling his bike, pushing down the stand with his foot.

He hurried to Maeve and gently placed his hands on her arms and she looked up at him, smiling uncertainly with tears in her eyes. "We haven't even been together a week and we've already got us in a house with three kids and a picket fence and a dog."

Otis awkwardly wrapped his arms around her and she returned his embrace. "I'm sorry," she murmured into his shirt.

"Don't say sorry," Otis murmured. "It's okay."

"No, I mean, I either get really silly or I… I get like this. I'm sorry you got this the first time."

"What?" asked Otis, not understanding.

Maeve sighed. "I'm getting my period."


Otis carried the tray with the burgers, chips and drinks from inside the takeaway to the table where Maeve was sitting.

"That's two," he said as he put the tray on the table and sat down.

"Four more to go," Maeve said as she grabbed her food and drink from the tray and placed them before herself.

"Uh-huh," Otis said as he took his own meal from the tray and then placed the tray on the nearest table.

"Thanks," Maeve said as she lifted the top half of the bun off her burger.

Otis took a bite of his own burger and watched as Maeve placed some chips on top of the patty and replaced the top half of the bun on top of them. She lifted it to her mouth.

"Is that because of your period?" he asked.

"What?" Maeve asked, frowning as she hesitated before taking a bite.

"Chips on your burger."

"No, I just like it. Always have. Most times I have to take off all the crap they put on top."

"Mum usually eats a whole bag of chips or ice cream or both just before her period."

Maeve smirked around her mouthful of food. "You're very comfortable talking about periods," she said after she had swallowed.

"Mum has given me a thorough education in the menstrual cycle, including the various possible symptoms of pre-menstrual syndrome."

"Jackson looked as if his balls were shrivelling up every time I mentioned it. You have two mums, Jackson. Aren't you fucking used to it by now?"

"Do…?" Otis began, tentatively. "Do you mind if I ask…?"

"Depends what you're going to ask," Maeve smirked.

"Do you get bad cramps?"

"Sometimes," Maeve said.

"How long's your cycle?"

"33 days. I think it's getting shorter. I think it used to be 36 when I first started getting them."

"That happens."

"I wish it would get longer."

"Is there anything I can do to help you when you get them?"

"You can have my cramps for me. That'd be nice."

"How long do they last, normally?"

"Four days. That's the one thing that's been pretty consistent. Mum used to get them for a week."

A silence fell over them as they continued eating their meal.

Otis opened his drink and took a sip then studied Maeve as she chewed her food.

"I know your period isn't the reason for having those feelings," he began, cautiously. "It may have made them a little more…"

"Intense? Vivid?"

"Something like that," he said, then held her gaze.

"It scared me," Maeve said after a moment. "Everybody always leaves me. Everybody I want to stay always leaves me."

"Aimee hasn't left you," Otis said, quietly.

Maeve nodded, conceding the point. "The thought of you leaving me… especially so soon…"

"I don't want to leave you if you want me to stay."

Maeve nodded and quietly chewed on the last bite of her burger.

"How long have you had the quote from Frankenstein?" Otis asked.

"I read it about a year ago. Like a punch to the gut when I read it."

"I wish it was the scary part you identified with, not the lonely part."

"I do identify with the scary part."

"Is that quote why you pretend to be Scary Maeve?"

"Nah, I've always been a stroppy cow. And who says I'm pretending?"

"People who know you. People who love you."

"So that's two. I've got the rest of them fooled."

"Speaking of people who love you, Aimee says you have a being-squeezed-out-of-a-random-vagina day coming up."

Maeve groaned. "Oh, what has she got planned?"

"Fancy dress party."

"Aimee," Maeve almost whined.

"You don't like fancy dress parties?"

"I don't like parties. I told you."

"But this is only with the people who love you."

"Who's she inviting?"

"Steve. Eric. Me."

"Do you think Eric will come?"

"Of course. He was the one pushing me to get together with you from the start. And he loves dressing up."

"What would I dress up as?"

"Frankenstein's monster. No, Kermit the Frog."

"And who would you be?"

"The cookie monster," Otis said as if it was obvious.

"No, you should dress up as Kermit," Maeve said in a tone he had no desire to argue with.

"And who would you be?"

"Xena, of course. A prince and a princess."

"Is that one of the girlfriend/boyfriend things you've thought about?"

Maeve shrugged. "When I'm soft."

"So I can tell Aimee it's okay?"

"If you must," Maeve sighed.

Otis grinned and took out his phone. "What's her number?"

Maeve told him and Otis typed the digits out as she repeated them.

It's Otis. Maeve says it's okay to have a party for her

"So when is your birthday?" he asked. "Aimee didn't say."

"Month after next. Third week of term."

Otis' phone beeped and he checked the message.

Fantastic. Thanks

Can we make it a fancy dress party?

She wants a fancy dress party?

I told her it was fancy dress

Why?

Is it okay?

Who are you dressing up as?

Can't tell. You'll find out

Okay. I think Steve will like it

"What did she say?" Maeve asked.

"She said 'great'. And thanked you."

"I bet she goes as Wolverine."

"She likes Hugh Jackman?"

"Nah, she said she wanted her fingernails as long as Wolverine's so anyone who pissed her off, she could 'fzt fzt'." Maeve waved her hand back and forth in front of herself.

"Wouldn't that make her Lady Deathshrike?" Otis asked.

"Who's Lady Deathstrike?"

"She's got adamantium fingernails."

"God, you really are a geek," Maeve said, smiling.

"She was in the second movie," Otis protested. "She's mainstream."

"A really gorgeous geek."


Maeve sat on the seat of Otis' bike, staring ahead along the country lane. Otis stared at her.

"You've seen me ride," he said. "You've seen other people ride. Just use one foot on the pedal to start with and then bring your other one off the ground when you start moving."

Maeve nodded and glanced down at her feet.

"And you know which side the brake is on?" Otis asked.

"This one," Maeve said, fingers resting on the brake.

Otis nodded. "Just make sure you're ready to put your foot down when the bike stops."

"Okay," Maeve nodded.

"And don't squeeze too hard until you figure out how much pressure you need."

"We're talking about the brakes, aren't we?"

"Don't be nervous."

"I'm not nervous."

"Just go up to that big tree up there. I'll catch up."

"Okay," Maeve nodded.

"Whenever you're ready."

Otis stepped back and watched as Maeve seemed to count internally then took in a breath, started to push the pedal with her foot then lift her other foot onto the other pedal and then she was moving.

Otis hoped she didn't stack herself.

He noticed the front wheel wobbling a little and called, "Move a little faster. Keep the front wheel pointed where you want to go."

He watched her nervously then relaxed a little as he saw her respond and then she was moving more confidently and he walked along the lane after her.

When he saw her stop by the tree and put her feet down to steady herself he hurried to catch up.

She looked up at him as he approached, her eyes shining and her lips smiling.

"That felt good," she said.

"I said you'd pick it up."

"I thought I was going to stack it at first."

"Yeah, but you didn't."

"Do these things really work?" she asked, tapping the helmet.

"Kept my brains in down Bleaker's Hill."

"You didn't have any brains to begin with if you were riding down Bleaker's Hill," Maeve smirked at him.

"Yeah, probably."

Maeve looked ahead along the lane and thrust her chin forward as an indicator. "Can I do more? That tree up there?"

"Of course," Otis said and stepped back, watching as she went through the motions again, clearly feeling a little more confident.

He smiled to himself as he slowly followed her, catching up to her as she waited by the tree she had indicated.

"How long will it take to fix your other bike?" she asked.

"Dunno. Haven't looked at it in ages."

"Hope it doesn't take too long."

"You liked it?"

"Yeah, it's fun. Although I think my calves are gonna feel it if I keep it up."

"You'll get used to it."

"Do you mind if I do it to that tree up there?"

"You can do it all the way back if you want."

"Might be fun having you run after me all the way back."

"Having the guy chase the girl? That's a very traditional boyfriend/girlfriend thing, Maeve."

"Makes me feel wanted when it's a guy I want."

Otis smiled and leant towards her and as she raised her head for a kiss their helmets cracked together and they winced at the sensation.

"Ow," said Otis.

"Fuck," said Maeve.

"You alright?" asked Otis.

"Yeah."

"That's the first time I've ever done that."

"I don't think we're going to be able to kiss with these coconut shells on."

"Sorry. Wasn't thinking."

"Doesn't matter," Maeve said with a shrug. "Let me just get up to that tree then you can take over. Then we can get back and take these things off."

"Okay," Otis said, nodding, then stepped back and watched as an even more confident Maeve began riding his bike toward the next large tree.


Otis' tongue entwined with Maeve's as they lay on the hill overlooking the caravan park. His bike lay on the ground behind them, their helmets discarded beside it.

Maeve felt Otis' hand tenderly move up her waist and was disappointed when he stopped and pulled his head back.

"Do your breasts get sore when you get your period?" he asked, concerned.

Maeve smiled and grabbed his hand and placed it firmly on her right breast.

"They can," she murmured. "But they're not now and I'll let you know if they are."

She reached her head up and kissed him again and felt warmth rush through her as he tenderly, gently squeezed her breast.

"I still can't believe my girlfriend's an exhibitionist," he said when they broke apart.

"No-one can see where your hand is," she murmured. "Besides, I think I'm a naturist. Exhibitionists want people actually watching when they're in public, don't they?"

"You said one of the things about having sex at school was the thrill of somebody maybe catching you any moment."

"That was before your mum caught us."

"You've changed your mind?"

"I think so. I mean, I wouldn't let you finger me up here now. I might have last week."

"So why do you like being outside?"

"I told you, the fresh air on my skin feels good. I feel… free."

Otis ran his eyes tenderly across her face.

"And it's a way of saying 'fuck you," Maeve continued.

"To whom?"

"To everybody. To those guys who were going on about me having green pubes. To the woman who said they wouldn't do it if I didn't dress like a slut."

"You don't dress like a slut," Otis said, annoyed.

"I just want to be able to feel attractive without all the shit. I want to be able to feel sexy, just for me. Not even thinking I'm going to do anything with anybody or want anybody to see me. Just thinking I can go, 'Looking good, Wiley,' if I see my reflection. Do you understand?"

Otis grimaced. "I'm still working on the difference between appreciating and objectifying."

"I've had really big arguments with guys and women about me only doing it to get guys to check me out, but it's not about that. I mean, I don't care if people think, "She scrubs up well.' I've been over at the mall and seen some hot guy and thought, 'Hello, salty goodness.' But I don't go shouting, 'Get yer dick out.' 'Nice bulge you got there.'"

Maeve realised Otis had removed his hand from her breast and was watching her tenderly, listening to her intently.

"But don't stare until I've got laser burns all over me," she continued. "Don't grab my boob on the dance floor. Don't grab my arse on the train. Don't tell me I've got a nice rack if you're not my boyfriend."

She pressed her lips together and glared up at Otis.

"Even if you are my boyfriend," she murmured.

"I wouldn't," Otis said quietly.

"Don't say anything. Just… take the memory and move on with your life."

After a moment, Otis said, cautiously, "I don't get how that relates to being naked outside."

"I'm a girl. I like fucking. And they're not going to make me feel ashamed of any of it."

"I still don't understand," Otis said, quietly.

Maeve scrunched her nose and muttered, "Probably not explaining it well."

Otis stared tenderly at her, not knowing what to say.

Maeve gazed at him for a long moment, then sighed. "I'm sorry. I hope you get silly me next time."

"Don't blame it on your period, Maeve. The feelings are real," Otis said then tensed, wondering if he had overstepped.

Maeve smiled tenderly at him and reached over to stroke his cheek. "I love you," she murmured.

"Me, too," Otis said.

"Do you mind if we don't talk on the phone tonight? I'm feeling as if I want to catch an early kip."

"I don't mind," he said quietly, understanding.

"Thanks."

"Is there any connection between how bad your cramps get and your mood just beforehand?"

"I wish. So I knew what to expect."

"Do you want time alone tomorrow?"

"No, you can come over. I won't be biting your head off." She smirked. "Any more than I normally would."

Otis thought for a moment then asked, "Do you want to come over to my place? I can cook you another meal."

"As long as you let me cook for you on Friday."

"Deal."


Otis stepped into his kitchen and put his bag on the table. "Mum?" he called.

"In here, darling," his mother replied from the loungeroom.

Otis walked into the loungeroom, noting she was watching something on the television.

"What are you watching?" he asked.

Jean grabbed the remote and paused the programme as he sat beside her. "The Fall," she said. "It's got that woman from Hannibal in it."

Otis studied the screen which showed a close-up of a blonde actress about his mother's age. "She looks a bit like you."

Jean studied the actress. "You think so?" she asked, scrunching her face.

"Mmmm," Otis hummed.

Jean shrugged and pressed STOP and put down the remote.

"I told Maeve she looked like Margot Robbie," Otis said.

"I bet that went down well," Jean said drily.

"I'm never going to make that comparison again."

"Women don't like being compared with other women, no matter who the other woman is. Even if you think it's a compliment."

Otis nodded and Jean noticed he seemed to be wanting to say something.

"You're home early," she said. "I wasn't expecting you until later."

"Maeve's getting her period. She wanted to go to bed early."

Jean blinked in surprise. "She told you she was having her period?" she asked, slowly.

Otis nodded. "She said she's getting it."

Jean studied her son carefully, sensing he wanted to say something more.

"Thanks for telling me about the menstrual cycle," he eventually said. "Maeve said her last boyfriend was really uncomfortable but I think she appreciated I was able to talk about it. I hope she did," he said quietly to himself.

"I'm sure she did," Jean murmured, quietly pleased with her son. "But, as much as I wish it were otherwise, I'm not sure many girls would feel as comfortable."

Otis nodded, staring at his feet. "But it's just natural. It's a part of what most women deal with."

"It is," Jean murmured.

"You used to take long baths, didn't you?" he asked after a moment.

"Yes. I still do sometimes. Helps with the cramps and the back pain."

"You still get them?"

Jean noticed he wasn't able to look at her.

"Yes, I haven't gone through the change yet," she said, then rolled her eyes at herself. "Menopause. I haven't gone through menopause yet."

Jean watched Otis quietly nodding to himself.

"I can explain about menopause again, if you like," she said after a moment, gently smiling, softly teasing.

Otis glanced up at her, lips curling in amusement. "I don't think Maeve has to worry about that yet."

"Well, whenever you need a refresher…"

"Thanks," Otis said then, after a moment, continued, "If Maeve feels she'd like to take a bath, do you mind if I invite her over? She only has a shower."

"Of course," Jean said after a moment.

"I'll pay for the extra water."

"Have you made her the offer yet?"

"No, I only just thought about it."

"Well, make the offer gently. Don't let her feel that you think you know better how to deal with her experience than she does. She's been dealing with her periods and their symptoms for, likely, years now."

"I know," Otis said.

"Of course you do," Jean murmured to herself. "I'm sorry."

Otis shrugged and shook his head. "It doesn't hurt to be reminded occasionally that I don't know everything."

Jean studied her son, sensing there was still more he wanted to say.

"Otis?" she asked tentatively.

"What?"

"Do you mind if I ask you a question that I'd like you to answer honestly?"

"When have I ever been able to stop you asking questions?" Otis asked, wrily.

"You'll answer honestly?"

Otis glanced at her and seemed to shrink in upon himself but nodded, looking away to stare at his feet.

Jean thought for a moment then began, tentatively. "I have tried over the years to provide you with an education about sex and sexuality… menstruation, menopause…" She hesitated momentarily. "… masturbation…" She noticed Otis press his lips together and force himself not to squirm. "In hope," she continued, "that you would understand the normality of the complete sexual experience and perhaps not be afflicted by many of the issues I've seen in my generation. And previous ones."

Jean could see Otis wander his eyes rapidly around the room but he didn't move and he didn't speak.

"When I – and please don't be angry with her – when I gave Maeve a lift on Sunday, she seemed to indicate that I was not successful in that endeavour and perhaps may have even generated the opposite of my intended effect."

Otis swallowed but did not speak and Jean read the truth in his posture.

She sighed softly to herself. "Please don't be angry with her," she repeated, quietly.

"She told me," Otis said, shrugging. "I didn't mind."

Jean pressed her lips together and waited a moment, then asked, "Is there anything you would like to say to me?"

Otis took in a slow breath but did not speak.

"You can be honest," Jean said quietly.

Otis took in a breath through his nose and Jean waited, hoping he could bring himself to say something.

"I just think…" he eventually began. "And it's not just you. It's dad, too. I just think that… sometimes you were both telling me things when I was too young to hear them and… neither of you checked to see whether I understood exactly what you were saying."

"And you feel that has affected your current attempts to form a relationship?" Jean asked, softly.

"Not just a relationship. Everything," Otis said, quietly.

Jean was silent for a long moment then said, quietly, "I'm sorry."

"I know you didn't mean it. I know neither of you meant it. It's just… that's the way it's happened."

After a moment, Jean asked, "Is there any specific area you would like to discuss?"

Jean watched Otis think for a moment and was both nervous and hopeful as he opened his mouth as if to speak but then he closed it again and she made every effort she needed not to push.

"Doesn't matter. D'you mind if we leave this for now? I've got some homework I should do," Otis said, not willing to look at her.

Jean nodded, hoping she was concealing her disappointment. "Of course, but you know you can talk to me if you need to."

"I know," Otis mumbled as he stood and walked toward the door.

Jean looked up as she noticed him stop and turn back to face her.

"Thanks for… everything, mum. I know you've only been trying to help. I just want you to know… I appreciate it. Even if it didn't seem that way sometimes."

Jean nodded, giving him a small smile. She watched as he disappeared toward the kitchen then, a minute later, walk past the door again, carrying his bag and a drink up the stairs.

She sighed quietly to herself, wondering if she should talk to Remi then wondered if perhaps this was something best left to Otis to tell him. If he chose to.

She wondered, for a moment, whether she would have fucked up this badly with a daughter instead.


Author's Notes: When I was first jotting down ideas eighteen months ago, I remembered my sister once explaining that my niece's then-current silly mood was because she was about to get her period and I wanted to bring that into the story. Things changed between my brain and the page but if this story reaches Day 40 then I plan on showing silly Maeve at that point.

I just hope the women reading this feel I have been respectful about the situation and I haven't come across as a Neanderthal idiot. If I have, I'm sorry. I just feel it fits well within the themes of the series and I wanted Otis to not have the expected reaction of a teenage boy.

I can't promise when the next chapter will arrive but I hope it will not take as long as this one has.

I also hope that you have enjoyed it at least a little.