Sleeping it off, as Lilith soon learned, was not an effective way to turn off her brain. When she woke up the next morning and slipped out of bed, the night before slipped into her mind. Rebecca had only meant that as a friend. She had to remind herself of that.

She made her way downstairs and made herself a quick cup of coffee. Lilith glanced at the clock- a couple of hours until she needed to be in the lab. She'd woken up earlier than usual, perhaps due to how anxious she'd been the night before. She didn't have to see any clients today, thankfully, so she didn't worry too much about having a perfect morning routine to prepare. Just a coffee would do.

Lilith left the kitchen and wandered over to the window, where she gazed out over the snow-covered sidewalks. The morning was so peaceful compared to the anxiety of the night before. For a moment, she was able to push her worries away, but she soon ran out of coffee and needed to get another cup.

Broken from her peace and quiet, the reality of life hit her once again.

She needed to do something about Frasier. That was obvious– she couldn't go on pretending anymore. But how could she tell Frasier what was wrong when, at the core of things, she didn't know herself?

For the next hour, she relaxed with her coffee. She headed off to the lab a few hours later while Frasier was still asleep. She'd left him a note saying she had left for work, but she didn't put too much thought into it.

At lunchtime, Lilith took a quick walk outside. Although she adored her research, she became somewhat antsy after too long inside, so the frigid, fresh air outside provided a good reset. She was able to free her mind of work and let go for a few minutes. Lilith, in ways, could be a master compartmentalizer. At work, she was able to completely ignore her personal life. It was moments like this, though, where her personal life leaked through the cracks and into her quiet walk. She tried her best to face the thoughts, but guilt flooded her. She promptly tried to store her personal life away as best she could until a more convenient, less-condensed time.

"Thank you for meeting me here."

Lilith slipped into the booth and straightened out the wrinkles on her cotton turtleneck. Her eyes darted up, and she took a good look at Rebecca, who looked gorgeous in Lilith's own opinion— hair as fluffy as ever and makeup on point, although she was still in her business attire. Lilith became painfully aware of how casual her bare face and loose curls appeared in comparison.

"Of course, Lilith. Gave me a good excuse to get the hell out of that bar," Rebecca snickered.

Lilith had asked Rebecca to meet her at a tiny cafe a few blocks down on Newbury Street once she'd left work. It was around six, but the notoriously busy cafe was empty. Besides the occasional clatter from the kitchen, only bits and pieces of chatter quietly filled the space.

A waiter came by before any real conversation could begin between the two. Lilith ordered a small cup of clam chowder (stereotypically, sure) to warm herself, and Rebecca ordered a sandwich. Within a minute, they were alone again.

"So what'd you want to talk about?"

Rebecca took a sip of her latte, eyebrows raised towards Lilith.

"Rebecca, I do not mean to follow up regarding our conversation from last night. I fear I placed pressure on you, which was unfair. I would like to apologize for placing you in that position, and I hope you will forgive me if I buy you a coffee."

"Oh my god, are you worried about that? It's okay, I'm totally fine with it! You know, I work in a bar, it's not like I don't hear people complain all the time."

A wave of relief passed over Lilith.

"Alright, well, I'm glad to hear that. Tell me what's happening in your life. Do you have anything you'd like to get off your chest?"

Force of habit.

"Lilith, I don't need your counseling! I'm fine—" A pause— "Well, you know who's really bugged me lately?"

Rebecca leaned into the table, and Lilith found herself doing the same.

"Sam! Damn guy won't get a clue that I'm completely uninterested. I'm really tired of his come-ons. I mean, I love the guy- but as a friend. It's been a year now and he just won't get a goddamn clue. You know, if any other guy treated me like this—or I guess, just one with money—I might actually consider him, but Sam's just… ruthless."

Lilith nodded her head as to say she knew exactly what Rebecca meant, but to be honest, aside from her professional view, she couldn't relate in any shape, way, or form. Personally, she had never been charmed by men's nuisances, especially in professional settings, and this had inadvertently led to her often cold, modest appearance.

Pushing men aside for years had made her relatively unresponsive to their "charms." However, it wasn't much of an issue. She didn't receive much attention on the male side of things, with the exception of Frasier. Receiving his attention could very well have been one of the reasons why she'd initially let him into her life as she hadn't received it elsewhere.

Rebecca's issue with men, unlike Lilith's, was one she could attempt to advise.

"Perhaps ignoring his advances is not enough. Have you tried to lead him on?"

Rebecca laughed and said as a matter of fact, "Lilith, I spend every day trying to lead him on so I can make him feel like an idiot. It never ends."

"Why don't you fire him?"

Rebecca stared at Lilith for a moment before breaking through with a smile.

"See, I'd do that, but we'd lose all the regulars, and I think my boss would kill me without that income. But God, if I had the choice?"

She picked up her coffee and took a sip.

"He'd be a goner."

Lilith let a laugh escape her lips. Usually, she might be embarrassed for letting herself do so, but not there with Rebecca. She was comfortable for once.

It was so much easier to loosen up while speaking with another woman. She didn't need to worry about damaging her credibility or being taken advantage of (both of which she had built up walls for). There also was a part of her that just enjoyed it more, but that felt weirder to think about.

For so much of her life, Lilith had struggled with talking to and relating to other women, with few exceptions. Her relationship with femininity had never quite worked itself out. She never really understood the obsession with vanity and the surface-level ideas in which she felt most women were interested, always more engaged in the complex ideas her studies proposed.

Her more recent friendships with women like Diane and Rebecca exposed her to different types of women and somewhat changed how she viewed the concept of femininity. Rebecca, though, had connected with Lilith much faster than Diane, as they ate, time flew by as they jumped from topic to topic. For the first time, Lilith found that she didn't want their conversation to end as they finished their meal, and even as they waited for their bill, they carried on their conversation.

Lilith took the bill from the waiter without giving Rebecca a moment to ask to split the check.

"Oh, you really don't have to-"

"No, I'll pay. I asked you to dinner and you're my guest."

(Lilith also probably made at least three times Rebecca's income, but she didn't want to say that out loud.)

She slipped her credit card inside the cover and took out the receipt to calculate the tip.

"Well, thanks, Lilith. I appreciate it. God, if only men were as chivalrous as you are."

Lilith looked up at Rebecca and asked, "Do your dates not cover the bill?"

"Well, not always. I just mean, if all men did it and not just the rich ones, maybe I'd be willing to date more people."

Lilith forced a laugh. Rebecca's obsession with rich men was one of the few things she could not understand. Rather than focusing on a man's income, why didn't Rebecca try to increase her own? Managing a bar was probably a dead-end job, even if it was connected to a large corporation. Lilith had no doubt that Rebecca was put there to be out of the corporation's face.

She calculated the total and caught their waiter's attention.

"Well, I probably need to get back to work," Rebecca said and moved to get up out of her seat.

"I'll go back with you – I should see how Frasier's doing. Can you wait for me?"

Rebecca nodded and sat back down.

"Sorry. Guess I jumped to get out of here a little soon. There's a bet going on back at the bar between Sam and Carla to see who can annoy me the most or, something like that and I think I'm ruining their fun by not being there."

"And you're going to encourage this?"

"It is more entertaining than going through numbers all night," Rebecca shrugged.