It’s not always black and white

by easyonme

Summary:

The idea for this story is based on an interview Laurel did many years ago. A certain reporter asked about her sexuality, and interesting answers were given.

Part 1 (Chapters 1-8): 2007ish
Part 2 (Chapters 9-12): 2019-2022

 

Obviously these are fictional characters.

Chapter 1

It’s late after an evening shoot one day when Laurel knocks tentatively on her friend’s trailer door. Her knuckles make a louder than expected clacking sound when the plastic exterior hits metal. No one answers so she knocks again, more softly this time. The pair had just finished a rough scene where Bette is angry and needy and all that emotion gets directed at Tina, whom she’s no longer in a relationship with - not for not wanting it. Laurel could tell as soon as they wrapped how hard it had been for Jen to be so vulnerable in that way.

Still no one answers, so Laurel slowly opens the door and peeks her head inside the dark trailer, which is lit only by the half-light of the lot lights outside closed drapes. She doesn’t see anyone but knows Jennifer must be in there.

“Jen?” She calls softly.

Laurel hears a muffled sound from the end of the hall. She looks both ways outside the trailer, and seeing no one, she steps in and closes the door gently behind herself.

“It’s ok Jen,” Laurel says as she walks tentatively down the hallway, tucking an uncooperative piece of hair behind her ear. She didn’t even wait to change out of her clothes from the scene before coming to find Jennifer, who she now sees is curled on the bed in the back, crying. She immediately sinks down next to her and holds her friend.

“Shh, it’s ok...” Laurel strokes her temple, brushing her damp curls away from her face. “I’m here.”

Jennifer’s chest heaves as her breath catches on another sob. Laurel knows just how hard it can be when you channel a particularly intense emotion and crash hard after the scene is over.

“I’m right here.” Laurel brushes back her hair again and places a soft, chaste kiss on Jennifer’s forehead. The two of them have an easy kind of intimacy after having done so many takes with their bodies pressed close, and after practicing longing stares at each other, even when the cameras weren’t rolling, because they were both so damn committed to their craft.

Jennifer looks up at her, meeting her eyes, like she’s searching for something, like she’s lost.

“I’ve got you,” Laurel whispers in her ear, rubbing her back reassuringly. She’s determined to stay by her friend’s side and be strong for her, no matter what it takes. But when Jennifer reaches out for her hand, it’s as if there’s something pulling at her insides. This is a feeling she hasn’t had in quite some time; she almost doesn’t recognize it.

“Thank you,” Jennifer whispers, and Laurel wraps her small body around the longer woman, just holding her. Jennifer presses her back into Laurel’s chest, leaving no space between them. They lay like that for what could be twenty minutes or could be half the night, neither of them is really sure.

Finally Laurel asks, “Do you want to talk about it?”

And Jen responds, “No, I just want it to go away.”

And Laurel knows how to make it go away, how to make them forget all about it. They just need to feel something else. She places a row of kisses from her forehead, down over her temple, all the way down to the curve of her jaw - slowly, hotly, in a way that is clearly the complete opposite of her platonic, comforting kiss from a little bit ago. She easily turns Jen’s pliable body towards her own, and now they are face to face.

Laurel traces the outline of Jennifer’s face and she sees the quiver in her lips, the question in her eyes. Then she lets her hand slip down to her chest, lingering there before leaning in and kissing her lips - soft on soft. She closes her eyes, feeling this gorgeous woman like it’s the first time they’ve ever kissed. She takes her time, opening herself slowly, letting the other woman explore her mouth with her tongue, playfully pushing back and retreating.

Laurel smiles against her lips. “Hi,” she says.

Jennifer responds by pulling Laurel’s curves towards her body and shifting her weight up and down in a way that makes Laurel feel a little lightheaded. She tries not to think of how Jen’s as needy as her character right now.

Soon Laurel’s hands are fluttering over the skin under Jen’s shirt. She’s nervous to go too far, to cross whatever imaginary line exists between the two of them. Laurel wants to be assertive, to show her how it’s done, but she holds back.

She wasn’t always attracted to women, but there was something delicious and intriguing about Jennifer. She’s always kind of had a thing for her, if she’s being honest.

Suddenly Jennifer is pushing her away and she’s standing up in the cramped space before Laurel knows what is happening.

“We can’t do this,” Jennifer says as she pulls her shirt back into place with one hand and touches the back of her hair with the other.

Laurel is too stunned to talk.

“I’m not— I have a husband— I—” Jennifer stammers as she backs away, tripping on the corner of the table behind her. She wipes her mouth unconsciously, fingertips touching where their lips met.

Laurel looks down, away, anywhere that isn’t direct. She brushes her hands back and forth in the air as if she can sweep up everything that just happened, clean it away. Her stomach churns with confusion, but she tries not to show it. “It’s ok,” she says when she knows it’s anything but. “We were just practicing.” The words slice through the thick air and all they’re left with is a gaping wound and silence.

Jennifer stares at her in a way that doesn’t give away her true emotions. Then slowly she begins to nod. “Ok, yes.”

And in that moment they have an agreement. The two women share a look that says this will remain between them, no matter how much it hurts.

Chapter 2

Several days later Laurel is grabbing lunch in the food services trailer. The only salad they have is ceasar. With her salad and silverware in one hand, she pulls a ridiculous amount of napkins out of the dispenser with the other, and then whips around, almost colliding with Jennifer on the way out.

“Hey,” Jennifer says softly as she holds the door open for her.

Laurel shakes her hair out of her eyes and squints into the sun behind Jennifer’s face. “Are you avoiding me?” Laurel’s voice is clearly agitated.

Jennifer shakes her head as if to say, “No, why would I be avoiding you? How silly.”

Laurel lets out an exasperated groan and pushes past her. “Whatever.” She jostles her a little bit harder than she meant to and drops her salad in the process. The clamshell container splits open and its contents spill all over the concrete, including the dressing.

“Oh great,” Laurel’s voice bites.

“I’m so sorry— Let me just—” Jennifer, still holding the door to the trailer open, stammers. “Stay right here.” She rushes inside and soon food services employees are cleaning up the eating area outside as Laurel looks on, hands at her sides, still holding the wad of napkins in one.

Jennifer returns in a minute with two fresh salads and packets of plastic silverware.

“Come with me?” Jennifer asks gently as she holds the salads up a little so Laurel can see. She’s so dazed, Jennifer thinks she might not notice otherwise.

Laurel follows Jennifer to her trailer, making sure her mouth isn’t gaping open. She feels like her shock must be written all over her face. She doesn’t even know what she’s doing anymore.

She follows Jennifer into her trailer and the loudest sound outside of her brain is the door clicking closed behind her.

“What’re you doing?” Laurel asks bluntly.

Jennifer sets the salads and pair of utensils down on opposite sides of the small table across from the door. The space is so cramped they’re standing unnervingly close to each other when Jennifer rights herself again.

“I’m sorry,” she says tenderly. “Can we talk?”

Laurel stares at her. When she quiets the buzzing in her head and finally realizes it’s probably been silent too long, she answers belatedly, “Sure,” and slides into the tiny booth at the center of the trailer.

Jennifer sits down across from her. “I don’t even like ceasar salad.”

“I know, me either.”

“I wish they had Cobb,” they both say in unison and their eyes meet in disbelief before they even finish getting the words out.

Eventually Jennifer smiles and they both laugh.

“I’m sorry,” Jennifer says, and Laurel knows she’s not talking about the salad this time.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Jennifer sighs as she pokes a hole in the plastic wrapping with her fork and removes the lid from her salad. She starts cutting up the pale chicken.

“Me either.” Laurel spreads the dressing over her salad and just goes for it. “You know I’m married too, Jen.” Her voice is almost a whisper.

Jennifer nods, concentrating on her salad, not allowing herself to look at Laurel.

Laurel is tentative again but she can’t take it anymore. “But I can’t help what I feel…” She puts her fork down, greens still speared through the tines.

Jennifer wipes the corner of her mouth, even though she hasn’t taken a single bite yet.

“And I think you feel it too…”

Jennifer stares at Laurel’s mouth, her lips parted, her eyes magnetic. The air is electric, like the next thing she touches might cause sparks.

Laurel checks and notices the curtains are closed. It’s the middle of the day.

“Come here,” Jennifer says, her voice deep and crackling.

Laurel follows her direction and moves to stand in front of her.

Jennifer doesn’t fit in the small space so she’s already got her legs in the aisle.

“Spread your legs,” Jennifer whispers in a low voice.

Laurel straddles her, suddenly aware of the short dress she has on from wardrobe. Her skin tingles.

Jennifer lets her hands travel up Laurel’s smooth thighs as she watches her trying not to melt onto her lap. She unconsciously licks her own lips.

“Jen—“ Laurel sighs as her eyes close and she lets her head drop back onto her shoulders.

Jennifer’s fingertips trace the outline of her underwear. “The lace ones,” she notes and Laurel realizes she knows her underwear. Even if they’re just the ones from set, she has to admit she likes these ones too.

She slips her fingers under them and smiles coyly. “You’re so wet.”

Laurel bucks slightly at her touch. “I’m so, so wet,” she whispers.

Jennifer moves both of her hands to the other woman’s hips and pulls her into her lap, aching to feel the wetness there.

Laurel presses her body against Jennifer’s pants and moves to kiss her, but Jennifer runs her fingers slowly over her open mouth and they both remind themselves to take their time.

“I want you,” Laurel whispers, burying her face in Jennifer’s hair.

“I want you to fuck me,” she responds.

They move to the bed clumsily, kissing as they go. Laurel gets on her knees, as Jennifer unbuckles her belt and pants.

“Lay back,” Laurel says as she playfully pushes Jen flat onto the bed with her long legs draped over the edge.

Jennifer watches her slide her pants to the floor and dip her head towards her legs. Her hair is velvety and smooth on one leg as Laurel drags her tongue up the inside of the other thigh. Jen’s breath catches and she arches towards her with need.

Laurel pulls one side of her underwear down, noting these ones are also black and lacey, and kisses her hipbone lightly. She checks Jen’s face for permission to continue.

Jennifer’s insides are pulsating now; she’s never wanted something so much in her whole life.

“Please,” she whimpers.

Laurel smiles as she slides her underwear slowly down Jen’s incredibly long legs and continues kissing her upper thighs softly. She lets her hands wander along her hips and up across her abdomen and down under her legs, slowly, softly, until the ache is too deep in both of them.

She touches her firmly with two fingers, and Jen is slippery and so, so ready below her.

While Jennifer lifts her own shirt up over her head, Laurel’s is moving between her legs. Jen props herself up on her elbows and watches hair the color of champagne move mesmerizingly in front of her. Her lips and tongue are even softer on her than she imagined. Laurel moves with such fluid, understanding motions. She tries not to think about how she’s probably done this before.

Laurel grabs at her thigh with her right hand before sucking harder at her clit and letting her fingers slide inside. She continues making tight circles around her, while Jen presses into her hand.

No longer able to hold herself up and watch, Jennifer falls back and clutches the sheets with both hands now. She can’t help but lift her hips into Laurel’s face.

Just before Jennifer comes, Laurel flattens her tongue and licks across all of her parts, pressing into her. She arches her fingers just a tiny bit more. There’s barely enough space to move, but somehow she manages.

Jennifer is barely holding in her screams now. Her body shudders and Laurel keeps her fingers inside her until the last reverberation.

When she finally, regretfully pulls them out, she kisses her vulva reverently and smiles to herself. So she wasn’t imagining things after all.

Chapter 3

Summary:

content warning: mild non-consensual sex in this chapter

The next week they’re off and Laurel keeps finding herself thinking of Jennifer - the way her skin felt under her lips, the smell of her shampoo in the morning, the searing looks she’d deliver across the set - a secret she didn’t share with anyone else. She’d be absentmindedly folding laundry or picking up baby toys and find herself longing to be back in her orbit. Her…lover. She tries it out, plays with it a little, lets the thought roll around in her head. Her lover… It tastes good in her mouth.

Later that night she’s in bed while her husband tucks their daughter in. She doesn’t want to disrupt their usual routine. She’ll be back in L.A. in a few weeks. It’s not worth it, she reasons with herself.

Laurel tries to read but her mind wanders. Soon she shimmies down low under the billowy down comforter and brings her hands to her hips. She closes her eyes and remembers what it felt like to be pulled close by Jennifer’s hands, so capable, so sure. She slips one hand under the elastic of her sweatpants and the other travels up to cup her breast. Laurel honestly doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she can’t help it. A part of her needs something that being with Jennifer gives her.

She’s still touching herself when her husband quietly enters the bedroom and shuts the door gently behind himself. He sees her before she notices he’s there, and he obviously enjoys the situation he’s found her in with her head pressed back on the pillow, eyes squeezed shut, and the impression of legs out sideways under the covers. He makes a guttural animal noise in satisfaction as he crawls up onto the bed and moves his body under the sheets to find her.

Laurel is startled but tries to act normal - or whatever would have been normal before - if he’d found her in bed, touching herself, not thinking about her female coworker, of course not. His hand covers hers on her breast, massages hard. Laurel tries not to wince, tries not to show this is not what she wants.

“Feeling frisky huh?” He growls into her mouth as he kisses her roughly. She can feel his erection on her leg, and she can’t find the words to make him stop, so she moves her hands from her body to his and tries not to think about it too much.

He’s panting at her neck. He’s grinding against her. She goes somewhere else in her mind, somewhere where she can protect the secret she shares with another woman. He’s done soon enough, and it almost doesn’t feel like an affair. She can suspend her disbelief just enough to pretend like the two don’t exist in the same universe.

After he rolls off her he says, “God that was hot. I think I could get used to you doing this lezzie show. What, is that Flashdance girl teaching you a thing or two?” He winks grossly and goes to the bathroom to clean himself up.

Laurel curls onto her side and clutches the pillow tightly, hoping sleep will come soon. She wishes she could make another choice.

Chapter 4

Jennifer shakes her head, visibly upset, her hands brushing the idea off before it even has the chance to land. “No, Laurel,” she stops and looks straight at her scene partner with an intensity that tempts Laurel to lose eye contact immediately. “Some of us are very clear about our sexuality.”

Jennifer again paces the length of the trailer, her arms crossed over her chest defensively. She shakes her head and stops again. “You know, just because I’m comfortable in my skin and don’t need a bunch of smoke and mirrors– Just because I’m a very open person, it doesn’t mean–”

Laurel starts talking before Jen can get anything worse out of her mouth. “But what about the Kinsey Scale? You know it’s not always black and white. People’s sexuality can be more fluid than that–”

“Oh and I’m sure you’re saying yours is.” Jennifer shakes her head, her lips pursed, and her dark brown curls cascade so gently around her face it’s maddening.

Laurel stares at her until she begrudgingly looks at her again. “I’m saying maybe yours is too.” Laurel’s voice is so honeyed that neither of them can stand it. Laurel can’t help it; even when she’s mad at Jennifer, she cares for her. It’s always been this way for her. She’s not able to go hot and cold like Jen is.

The light catches Jen’s eye and glints sideways off her pupil as if she’s pointing it in the other woman’s direction. “Laurel, I’m married. I made a commitment. So what does it matter anyway?” For a split second they just stare at each other. The judgment is practically dripping from the statement that hangs in the air between them, but there’s also a hint of implication that if the situation were different… Laurel wants to catch her and pull her close, to prove all of what she’s saying wrong, but she knows she needs to give Jen the space to work through her feelings.

Jennifer throws her arms up and storms off again, this time exiting the trailer and slamming the door harshly on her way out. Laurel knows she won’t be able to wait her out forever. She also privately wishes she could be as sure as Jennifer sounds. She yearns to be as strong in her commitments as Jennifer.

Chapter 5

The tape recorder clicks and Laurel knows anything she says now is on the record. Why did she agree to this interview? To clear the air, she hears her publicist’s voice in her head, and tries to drown out the buzzing sound threatening to overtake her thoughts.

“I shouldn’t identify as bisexual,” Laurel starts, and she can already see the journalist’s eyebrows shoot up at her bold words.

She knows how this looks to backpedal now, being on a show like The L Word, which is already taking off. “I'm not afraid of anything. It’s just that…” Laurel falters for a moment. “I’m very clear about my sexuality. I’m becoming more solid in my identity.” She gestures with her hands, remembering Jen’s words now. “I’m a very open person, maybe naively open. I’m comfortable in my skin.”

“What are you trying to say?” The interviewer asks, sounding genuinely curious.

“I consider myself straight, I guess.” She adjusts herself in the plastic chair, trying not to show how uncomfortable she is. Laurel tries to channel Jennifer. What would she say? What would she do? “I never question it. But I hate that label too. I hate all labels! Labels don’t always apply to everybody.”

“That makes sense, but you can see how your fans might be a little conf—”

Laurel puts her hand up and continues before the other woman can finish. “I’ve made a commitment. It’s to a man. If you want to call me heterosexual, fine. I don’t really call myself anything now, but married.” Her cheeks are red and she’s almost yelled the last part.

Laurel is clearly flustered, and unsure if she even accomplished what she came here to do. But she can’t take this anymore and says she has to go. She’s due back on set.

Chapter 6

The reason Laurel gave for exiting the interview early might have been a slight exaggeration, so when she gets back to set she has plenty of time to wallow alone in her trailer. Did she say the right things? Was it enough? She just wants Jen to feel safe, even if she has to make some sacrifices. Maybe she can fix everything, with Jen and her marriage. She doesn’t want to lose what she has, what makes her happy, her family and this…whatever this magnetism, this chemistry is…that she has with Jennifer. What was she thinking, insinuating how Jen feels? She should have never gone that far.

And just then, when her thinking starts to go too far, Jen knocks on her door. Her knock is unmistakable, and Laurel feels caught somehow, as if this other woman can read her thoughts from ten feet away and through a closed door.

Laurel takes a deep breath and calls out, “Come in,” sounding less sure than she wishes.

Jennifer doesn’t hesitate as she moves surefooted into the trailer and towards Laurel.

“I heard what happened,” she says and sits next to Laurel on the small couch along the wall, close enough to see the tears she’s trying to hold in.

“What? How?” Laurel’s shock distracts her just enough to keep it together in front of Jen.

Jennifer looks around as if they can see the whole set from their private spot. “You know how fast word travels around here.” She smiles and sets her hand lightly on Laurel’s knee. Hyper-aware of the touch, they both look down at her hand and she removes it quickly, tucking it into her own lap.

Jennifer pulls her legs up and gets as comfortable as she can on this tiny couch; sitting sideways, she faces Laurel.

“You didn’t have to do that for me,” Jennifer says slowly and clearly. Her eyes don’t move from Laurel’s face, making sure she understands her every meaning.

“But I wanted to,” Laurel says softly.

She is so authentic, it pulls at something deep inside of Jennifer. “You’re beautiful,” Jennifer says, her own face full of sunshine.

Laurel tilts her head and scrunches her eyebrows. “Don’t give me mixed signals, please Jen, I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

Jennifer shakes her head. “I’m sorry.”

Just when Laurel thinks that is that, Jen speaks again. “I’m sorry I do that to you, pull you back and forth.” She reaches out her hand again and takes Laurel’s in hers. “I can see how it hurts you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I sound so sure of myself, but I don’t feel that way in here,” Jennifer’s voice goes down to a whisper as she punctuates the last two words by pressing her stomach with her free hand. “I know you were just trying to do the right thing. But I don’t want you to dim your light for me, for anyone.” Jen’s face is full of concern.

Laurel nods tentatively, trying to understand.

They sit in silence for a moment before Jennifer says, “I talked to Ken.”

Laurel can’t hide the shock on her face.

“You inspire me to ask for what I need.” It is silent again and Laurel feels like she should say something, but she thinks better of it and keeps her mouth closed. She wants to hear how Jennifer really feels, what she really thinks.

“I don’t care what we call it, but I realized I need to find room for you in my commitment,” she says and begins to rub Laurel’s palm. Now Laurel is really speechless.

“It turns out not everything is black and white,” Jennifer whispers as she leans closer and nuzzles into Laurel’s shoulder.

They hold each other equally this time, and Laurel is overcome with a feeling of peace and like everything is right in the world for the very first time.

She turns to her friend…and lover, “Can I take you out to dinner?”

Jennifer sits up straighter and gazes adoringly at the beautiful woman next to her. “I would love that.”

Chapter 7

The following Friday Laurel rides through the darkened streets of West Hollywood in the back of her black SUV. She asked her car service to take them to the restaurant since she doesn’t trust herself to be able to drive in L.A. and converse with Jen at the same time without getting into an accident. She adjusts her low-cut red dress against the cool leather seats, thinking again is this too much? It’s too much. She sighs and looks at her bedazzled strappy sandals. Oh well, it’s too late now.

The car stops in front of Jennifer’s hotel as Laurel gives her a quick call on her cell to let her know she’s here.

A few minutes later the driver gets out and opens the curbside door for Jennifer. Before she gets in, Laurel has a brief moment to take in the vision her date is in a long black gown and black cut jewelry. Laurel inhales quickly and breathes out as quietly as she can. Ok, not too much. This is perfect. They are both a little extra.

“Hi,” Jennifer says in that low, entrancing voice of hers that Laurel has come to know only in private settings. She stealthily hands her a huge bouquet of gerber daisies with giant stems that Laurel hadn’t seen at first because of the way she was standing.

“Jen, this looks like you robbed a flower stand!” She is positively beaming.

“I couldn’t help myself. They reminded me of you,” she says, coyly licking her bright red lipstick.

She chuckles and continues, “This is me apologizing for picking the restaurant even though you’re ‘taking me out.’” Jennifer makes air quotes with her fingers.

“You are such a dork,” Laurel hits her in a lighthearted way with her free hand but her eyes are still adoring the whimsical flowers.

“I know,” Jen says, scooting closer to the other woman.

“So tell me about this place,” Laurel says brightly. “Violet Queen— It sounds so exotic.” Her eyes are playful.

“Well first of all, it’s Asian fusion, which I love.” Jen gestures with her hands. Of course she would have a whole speech for why she chose this spot. “Second of all, it’s close to my hotel so…”

“It’ll be easy to get me in bed?” Laurel taunts.

Jennifer finger-guns her and laughs lightly. “And I read that it’s one of the hot new lesbian haunts. You know…Violet…Queen…” she emphasizes the words with her fingers that are still up in the air.

Laurel makes an O shape with her mouth and nods, trying to decide if she believes her formerly straight friend. “Wow, I’m impressed,” she responds, noting the planning that went into this all for someone who isn’t even in charge of this date, not that she’s surprised in the slightest.

It’s not long before they’re seated at an intimate table in the back of the patio. Lights twinkle under a massive purple and white wisteria tree that provides the whole courtyard with a transporting fragrant scent. It feels perfect out this evening - nice and comfortable after another sunny California day. There’s nowhere else she’d rather be.

As they begin to look over their menus Laurel says, “Thank you, this is perfect.”

Jen smiles, pleased, and sets the menu down on the cool marble of the table. She already knows what she wants. And frankly, she’d rather look at her date.

They both order colorful cocktails, followed by the magic noodles with shrimp for Laurel, and the rice bowl for Jennifer with organic quinoa and brown rice, chopped cauliflower, radish, and chickpeas.

It all feels really easy and fun. By the time their mango sticky rice and a rainbow of fruit arrives for dessert, they’re brushing feet against legs under the small table. They feed each other little bits of purple jasmine rice and savor every bite.

Laurel doesn’t want to ruin the moment but she feels compelled to announce out of the blue, “I have to make a small confession.”

Jennifer’s eyes sparkle under the light as she looks at her with interest.

“I feel bad, I haven’t even told Paul.” Laurel looks at her lap, embarrassed. How was Jennifer ahead of her on this? Wasn’t she the one who was so sure of her sexuality? Or was she?

Jennifer takes a moment to collect her thoughts and answers in an unreasonably measured fashion, “Maybe I can help?”

Laurel almost spits out her drink. “How can you help?”

“I don’t know.” She pops a strawberry into her mouth and thinks while she chews. “Well I guess I kind of have experience telling my husband I’m sleeping with a woman.” She holds her fork to her lips and plucks three blueberries off the end in succession. “And maybe he’d be open to…some kind of…arrangement? You never know.”

“I don’t know.” Laurel sighs and eats a slice of mango with her bare fingers, sucking the juice from them as she continues, “I don’t know if that’s what I even want.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Jen pauses and stares at her, still holding her fork aloft. “I was making assumptions.”

“No, no, it’s not that.” Laurel puts her other hand on top of Jen’s on the table. “I want to be with you. It’s just, I’m not sure that I want to be with him.”

As the light seeps back into Jen’s eyes, Laurel continues, “Frankly, he’s been kind of grossing me out lately.” She shakes her head and takes a sip of her bubbly drink. “But this is really bad timing.”

“What do you mean by that?” Jen tilts her head and Laurel is caught off guard by how much she wishes she could run her fingers through her cocoa curls right here, right now.

Laurel shakes her head to clear her thoughts. She’s not sure how to share this news with Jennifer, or how she’ll take it. “We’re…It’s just that we’re…adopting…And we’re mid-way through the process and…”

Jen’s whole face glows as she interjects, “Congratulations!”

Laurel melts as Jen bounces halfway out of her seat to give her a hug. She remembers back to when they first became moms and how special that time was together, supporting each other through each step. Suddenly Laurel is overcome with emotion and she’s tearing up before she can get a grip.

When the jubilant Jen sits back and sees this, she’s distressed immediately. “What? What’s wrong? Oh Laurel, I’m so sorry. Did I mess this up too?”

She shakes her head. “It’s just really bad timing. A divorce would affect everything,” Laurel whispers through bleary eyes. “I don’t want to start over. I can’t go through this alone.”

Jen holds her delicate hand and caresses the soft skin on top, moving her chair closer and forgetting about the food or anyone else in the place. Servers know better than to approach them. With resolve she says, “You are going to be The. Best. Mom through adoption. If I have to personally make it happen, I’ll find a way. Don’t worry about him. Don’t worry about the D word. We’ll get through this. We’ll figure it out.” Jen shakes their arms up and down and looks Laurel in the eye. “You understand me? We’ll figure it out. We can get through this, together.”

She brings Laurel’s milky-colored hand to her lips and kisses it tenderly. “Now, can we get out of here?”

Chapter 8

Summary:

After this the next chapter will flash forward to 2019ish

Thanks to everyone for reading. I'd love to know what you think.

After Laurel steps out of the car and lets the driver know he can go for the night, Jennifer leads her by her hand through the lobby. Jennifer is staying at a cute boutique hotel on Santa Monica, because of course she’s staying in a place like this. Laurel has so much to learn about Jen still, but it’s comforting that she can predict these small things about her.

Jen pulls her into the elevator and they both giggle. Laurel leans against her, realizing she’s a little tipsy. They haven’t done the elevator scene yet, but they’ve read it. As they ride up, they both look up at the mirrored ceiling thinking of how it will all play out for about the hundredth time.

“Maybe we should practice,” Jennifer quips and they both laugh. Their own little inside joke.

Just before they come to a stop at Jennifer’s floor, the two turn to each other. Laurel can feel herself being examined by Jennifer and she loves the way it makes her feel. She wants to be adored by her forever. Jennifer holds onto her hand tighter as the doors open and they cross the threshold.

Jen fumbles with the keycard, and Laurel grabs it from her, flipping it over and inserting it swiftly. As Laurel watches the door make that little mechanical gear sound and light up, Jen hurriedly seizes the door handle and pushes her into the room, kissing her fervently.

“You have no idea…” Jen breathes heavily. “How hard it was…” Her lips break from Laurel’s for a moment. “To wait…” They move away from the door, further into the room. “To kiss you…” Jen guides Laurel as she steps backwards until her calves come to rest against the bed. “Tonight.”

Laurel runs her hand from Jen’s bare shoulder all the way down to her wrist, watching it travel slowly against her soft skin as she does this. They haven’t bothered to turn any lights on, but the curtains are open and moonlight cascades through the window and across the room. She holds her other hand up to Jen’s face and traces her lips with a single finger. “Same.”

They continue kissing, wet and heavy, while Jennifer slips the wide straps of Laurel’s dress over each shoulder, gnawing at her exposed skin as she goes, and drops the fabric to the carpet. It pools easily around her feet.

Jen’s hands travel down Laurel’s body before her eyes have the chance to take in the fact that she’s not wearing anything under the crimson dress. She lifts her eyebrows in an implied naughty gesture when she realizes. She runs her hands over Laurel’s skin, letting her thumbs linger as they pass across her nipples and travel down around her hips, taking in the sight of her standing before her.

When she pulls her closer, Laurel reaches up and tangles her hands in Jennifer’s hair. She doesn’t let Jen’s tongue on her neck distract her from untying the taller woman’s dress. After Jennifer sheds her ensemble onto the floor, she lifts Laurel up and sets her back onto the bed, kneeling before her to carefully remove her intricately wrapped sandals, their rhinestones gleaming in the natural light. She kisses the tops and the arches of her feet before coming to stand over the younger woman.

Jen is silhouetted against the view, but Laurel can see she has on a black thong and lace push-up bra, which she unclasps slowly and discards. She doesn’t bother to take off her heels as she climbs on top of her. Laurel feels butterflies in her stomach and maybe something more down below.

“I’m gonna make this all worth it for you,” she whispers in Laurel’s ear. Then she grabs her hand and guides it into her underwear firmly with her hand on top so they’re both feeling how wet she is already. Laurel’s face shows just how much she wants Jennifer as she removes their hands and places Laurel’s back on the bed gently. She kisses her softly, deeply, passionately, before letting her mouth travel across her neck and slowly to her collarbone and then her chest. Laurel moans with satisfaction and need.

Jen’s hands are everywhere on her all at once, and Laurel gives her body over to her. She lets go. The first touch brings Laurel right back to the day they first met, and gives up how much she wants the other woman. She’s engorged and pulsating with heat. Laurel could come before Jen even gets her fingers inside her.

“I want to feel you in me,” Laurel begs. Jen has to stop her from scooting closer as she takes her time, entering her with one finger, and then two, swirling them around, in and out.

“Do you like that?” Jen breathes the words more than she says them.

Laurel makes a sound that is clearly affirmative, but barely audible.

Jennifer moves her hand up and down. She circles Laurel’s aching nipple with her other hand, and then drops it down to her clit. Now both her hands are surrounding her and Laurel’s head flops back onto the bed, her eyes rolling up into her eyelids.

“Fuck,” she moans. “Ohh God.”

“Mmm,” Jen says, watching her and then she lays down and flips Laurel on top of her in one swift motion. She still has her hand inside her, but she steadies Laurel’s hip with the other, pumping up and down, moving her fingers back and forth until she can twist her hand just right to fit another finger in. The thought that surprises Jennifer most is how intuitive this is.

Laurel rides her to climax, stealing glances at the artwork over the bed - an abstract in blue and green tones with movement and layers, the moonlight mixing in to make it even more complex. It has a kind of buoyancy; looking at it is exhilarating. If there’s one thing Jennifer has in common with Bette, she has to say it’s good taste. Even the paintings in her hotel suite are exquisite.

As Laurel cries out in rapture, and a little pain, her sweat-slicked body collapses on top of Jennifer. After they both catch their breath, Laurel returns the favor, observing Jennifer adoringly as she comes quickly for her.

Eventually Laurel curls her knees into Jen’s side and they lay like that, with arms wrapped around each other, until they both fall asleep. In the middle of the night Jennifer wakes and pulls the white sheet up over their limp bodies, and watches Laurel with tenderness until her own slow breathing begins to match her lover’s and she falls back into a deep sleep.

Chapter 9

Laurel flips her cell over and looks at the screen when she feels it vibrate on the table.

“Jennifer?” She asks out loud, face fully scrunched, and then looks around the vacant room quickly as if somebody will catch her thinking about her former partner.

She doesn’t answer, just lets it ring as she tries to figure out how her number is still saved in her phone. Even though Laurel’s not exactly an “early adopter,” she must have upgraded at least a handful of times by now.

Laurel is in her office signing prints ready for shipment. She picks up her marker to continue, but the phone rings again. This time she’s a little less startled and decides to be a grown up and picks up her phone and presses Accept.

“Hello?” She says hesitantly, holding the phone to her ear and lowering the volume with one hand.

“Hi Laurel, it’s Jennifer.” She sounds so formal.

“Oh hi,” is all she can manage.

“How are you?”

“Oh…I’m good. I’m great actually.” She hesitates again. “I’m a little surprised by your call to be honest,” which she always is.

“Which you always are,” Jennifer says softly.

Laurel’s eyes widen, but she says nothing. It’s painfully obvious now that she didn’t reciprocate the friendly greeting, but frankly Laurel is nervous to ask how Jennifer is. Does she really want to know if she’s fine without her?

“Anyway, it’s been a long time,” Jennifer continues.

“It sure has.” Laurel raises her eyebrows. “A lot has changed.”

“And then for some of us not much at all has changed.”

There is a silence on the line, and Laurel can feel neither woman wanting to cross the line.

“Can you believe it’s almost time for us to start looking at colleges?” Jennifer’s voice brightens.

Laurel feels a pain in her chest for every moment together they’ve missed. She can’t even tell if Jennifer is being genuine anymore.

“It’s been 10 years, Jen.”

“I know. It’s too long.”

The silence is so awkward it hurts.

When Laurel finally gets impatient she asks, “Is there a reason you called?” Immediately Laurel closes her eyes and pinches her nose. She really didn’t mean for her words to sound so harsh.

Jennifer makes a barely audible sigh on the other end and then says, “The reboot got greenlit.”

Laurel gasps and it turns into a, “No.”

“Please Laurel, please come back.” Her voice goes soft on the end of her sentence.

“No.” Laurel pushes back her chair and starts pacing the room.

“Please just hear me out,” Jen pleads.

“No, I can’t.” Laurel moves her hands frantically as she walks back and forth. “I have my work and—I can’t. I won’t.”

Jen tries another tactic and in a firm voice asks, “What do I have to do to get you to come back?” She hesitates and then adds, “It’s just for the show, Laurel. Just for Tina. Please. Tell me how to make it right.”

Laurel’s ears are ringing. It doesn’t feel like any of this could possibly be real right now.

Ten years ago they ended things, not because the show wasn’t renewed for a seventh season. It had more to do with all the things that weren’t working between the two of them. Laurel runs her tongue along her teeth, deep in thought. She remembers telling Jen about her contract negotiations like it was yesterday, how she’d stood up for herself, gotten more time away to spend with her family. How she was more in control of her schedule, her own life. How she’d thought Jen would be happy for her; thought that’s what Jen wanted too.

Laurel goes to stand by the window and as she looks out over her backyard, thinking of the life she’s built in the time since she’s been away from Jennifer, she is even more resolved to only make choices that are right for herself. She’s come a long way. She’s not going to let this get personal again. She refuses to backtrack from the solid place she’s in today.

Laurel breaches the silence. “I will consider it under one condition.”

“What? Anything.”

“Bette and Tina are divorced.”

 

—

 

Later that night, Laurel is in her studio with Radiohead blasting so loud she can feel it inside her chest. She frantically slaps paint and varnish on the canvas, disappearing inside a different world for a few hours.

The lyrics grate against her brushstrokes,

In a city of the future
It is difficult to find a space
I'm too busy to see you
You're too busy to wait

But I'm okay, how are you?
Thanks for asking, thanks for asking

When everything shifted after the original show went off the air, Laurel began to paint again. It had started as just an emotional outlet; she never meant to turn it into a career. She had a lot to process, from the loss of the show that felt like it contained so much of her young adult life and had become a part of her identity, to the end of her relationship with Jennifer. There were a lot of feelings to work through.

Then she began to gain the attention of collectors, and with the help of her agent she found a gallery to take her on. She’d painted before when she was in college, but this time Laurel really worked hard to educate herself on different techniques. She found herself drawn to the work of so many women who were abstract artists, and she studied them intensely. It turned out it didn’t hurt to be semi-known to sell well in the art world, and her fans were great. Laurel was content; it didn’t ever need to get bigger than that.

But she still remembers the day she got a note from her gallery rep that said someone wanted to buy one of her pieces for $10k - an absolutely obscene amount at the time. Up until that point Laurel had sold paintings for a few hundred dollars, maybe a thousand at most. She should have thought to ask who the buyer was before accepting, because she would later find out that it was none other than Jennifer Beals.

Laurel grabs a towel and roughly scratches off the section she’d just painted, ripping through layers that had taken her almost a year to build up. Hot tears hit her cheeks. She isn’t sure what has gotten to her. She tries to remind herself she is happy now, married again, to a wonderful man. Literally everything in her world is different now. She does not need to let herself go back to that low, low place she’d been in.

Her mind goes straight to the night when she visited Jennifer at her condo, after they’d all finished filming at The Falcon. By this time they all pretty much at least had an apartment near the city. Jennifer’s cold, serious face is still seared into her brain. The way she mocked her, saying, “That’s the high you get as an actor, when you lose yourself and it begins to blur.” The face she’d made. How gaslit Laurel felt. As if the lines between Bette and Jennifer had never once begun to blur.

She was so hurt and angry and confused then, but the only feeling that remains now is shame. Like a painting with layer upon layer, the true emotion is buried deep and you have to look at it in just the right light to see the truth.

“Fuck,” Laurel screams. At this moment she’s so relieved she made the decision years ago to separate her home and studio. She covers the massive canvas in another layer of oil, building a boundary around her heart and she screams into the night again.

Chapter 10

The next year or so goes fairly well. Laurel is able to set her own schedule, only be on set when absolutely necessary. Between the storyline with Carrie and the shooting hold ups because of the pandemic, Laurel feels pretty much in control.

The new producer lets her make a lot of scene suggestions. She is even able to frame Bette’s inappropriate behavior in a way that’s satisfactory not only to Tina, but is healing for herself too. Of course Jennifer sees through all of this, but amazingly she goes along with it.

That’s why Laurel is surprised when she gets the call for a meeting with Jennifer and Ilene. It’s no secret that Ilene’s never been her biggest fan, let alone Tina’s. But this is just like Jennifer, the Belle of the Ball, she somehow always gets what she wants.

“Just tell me why we’re here,” Laurel angrily stirs her Yerba Buena cocktail, minus the liquor, as Jennifer fidgets across the table in a tall green velvet booth at a new restaurant bearing the same title as its namesake drink.

“Don’t waste my time.” Laurel is in no mood to deal with anyone who doesn’t know exactly what they want.

Ilene starts in her softly needling, halting way, “It’s just that, it’s come time for us, to make some changes. You see, the characters, they want certain things, and we need to forge a path for them, with more forward motion, with a solid goal in mind…”

Jennifer stares hard at Laurel, her hands folded on the table in front of them, obviously forcing her body to remain still.

“I need to wrap this up,” Jennifer says in a quiet voice.

Laurel’s eyes are magnetized back to Jennifer. She’s not sure if she’s understanding her correctly. Does she mean she’s finally ending something? Leaving it not open-ended?

“This next one is going to be my last season.” Her voice is so soft and it still manages to cut Laurel right in her chest.

She wants to protest, but she doesn’t want to admit how much she’s been enjoying doing this again, especially with Jennifer. Laurel looks up at the giant frosted globe of a light over their booth. Everything here is framed in gold. Questions pop into her head like the bubbles in her drink and they all fizz together until she has a headache.

What about Carrie? What about the engagement and what Tina wants? What about this thing we’ve built? What about my boundaries? What about the little box you try to put me in? What about everything we’ve been through? What about me? What if I’ll miss you…this…us? Laurel tries very hard not to explode.

“What exactly do you propose?” Her words are a short, measured staccato.

Jennifer tips her head to one side and opens her mouth like she’s about to say something, but then Ilene says, “I never in my wildest dreams intended this, but it’s obvious that we need to give the fans what they deserve, for all the support they’ve shown us and this show over the years. It’s been a wild ride, but one thing has become clear after all this time, we need to send Bette and Tina off into the sunset together.”

Laurel grimaces and just then their food arrives - house-made granola for Ilene and two basil and goat cheese omelets.

 

—

 

Later that night Laurel calls Jennifer against her better judgment. She’s curled up in her youngest daughter’s bean bag chair with the rope lights above her reading nook on and a fleece blanket pulled up around her shoulders. Her daughter calls this her nest, and Laurel can see why she spends so much time in it when they’re here. The apartment is silent. Her family is at home in Texas.

“I needed to talk to just you about this,” she admits right off the bat.

“I didn’t want to push you,” Jennifer says.

Jennifer insists she hasn’t changed much over the years, but Laurel sees these tiny ways that she acts so differently than she would have before.

“I’ll do it,” Laurel can feel Jennifer’s sigh of relief on the other end of the call. “But we have to do this right.” Laurel admits to herself that even she feels more free after she’s agreed to this storyline, as if it was part of the reason she came back all along.

They are quiet for a moment and then Jennifer says softly, “I think we should create parallels to some of our old scenes.”

Laurel runs her fingers along the edge of the lavender colored blanket and cocoons herself deeper into the nest. She thinks of the first time they met, losing her earring, and the way she looked at her, how she felt seen for the first time, ever, really. “That’s a great idea.”

“Do you have any ideas?” Jennifer asks gently.

Laurel thinks for a moment and then says carefully, “I need some things from Bette.”

“Okay.”

“I need…” Laurel lays her head back against the wall and puts everything else out of her mind so she can think clearly. “I need Bette to confess how much she loves Tina. But I need her to be willing to do whatever it takes to make her happy, despite whatever it is Bette wants. I need her to make the ultimate sacrifice, show that she’s really changed and that it’s different this time.”

They both know she’s not talking about Bette now.

“I would run through the proverbial LA traffic for you,” Jennifer says quietly.

Chapter 11

“Is this going to be hard for you?” Jennifer whispers as she leans towards Laurel, the refreshing coconut scent of her shampoo lingering between them.

“No, actually this is the easiest part,” Laurel says, referring to the sex scene they’re about to film.

Jennifer’s eyes relax open slightly wider as she considers this. She watches Laurel adjust the long red and black tie on the blouse she’s been fussing with all evening.

“We’re always so in sync.”

Laurel plays with the coffee mug she’s supposed to use as a prop while Jennifer nods in agreement. She’s a little surprised that Laurel is so cool about it all, but it goes a long way to relieving her own nerves.

“It just feels right,” Laurel continues.

Jennifer looks around. Though there are a ton of people on set, the crew are mostly busy preparing and checking their equipment.

“I’m a little nervous,” she says quietly as she adjusts her rings.

Laurel tries not to show how surprised she is. “But you do this all the time…”

“Not with you, I don’t.”

They stare at each other, unaware that a carousel of their sex scenes over the years plays through both of their memories simultaneously - the real ones mixed in with those that were just a performance.

As they begin to film the scene, Jennifer tries to channel all her nerves into Bette, which turns out to be a really convenient outlet. She eventually relaxes into her character and almost forgets herself.

Their fingers touch and there is that instant spark. It’s like coming home again.

Jennifer kisses her and Laurel feels the cameras melt away, it’s just the two of them now.

When Laurel tells Jen how beautiful she is, she means it.

When Jen slides her hand under the sheets, Laurel prays that she can’t feel how wet she is through her underwear.

Later on they’ll both wonder if Jennifer actually said, “It feels so real to me,” or if that was all in their heads.

 

—

 

The next day before her flight home Laurel stops by Jennifer’s place on the way to the airport. Jen comes to the door in track pants and a hooded sweatshirt.

“What’re you doing here?” Jen says as she lets Laurel in.

Laurel turns to face her, taking measured breaths. “The thing is, I think I’m still in love with you. Despite everything,” she searches Jennifer’s face. Damn her for always having the ability to conceal her true emotions. “I’m still in love with you.”

The two stare at each other and it feels like time stops.

Jennifer speaks slowly and carefully, “Laurel, I’ve loved you since the moment we met.” She shakes her head. “Actually I think I loved you before we even met, if that’s possible.” She smiles wryly.

There is so much tension between the pair that Laurel can’t take it. She lets her shoulders drop and looks around the foyer, silently begging for something to change.

Jennifer leans closer and almost whispers, “You make me feel alive.”

“That’s enough,” Laurel snaps. She takes a step back.

“You don’t get to do that.” Her voice is far too loud now. “Love is not enough.”

Jennifer shakes her head but no words come out.

“I need respect too,” Laurel says, pinching her fingers together in the air in front of her.

“I’m sorry,” Jennifer says weakly. She knows how wrong she’s been. She should have never let Laurel go when she did.

“I want to make it up to you,” Jennifer says, the light from above illuminating a silvery hair in her bangs.

She wants to grab Laurel’s hand as she turns to go. “I’ll think of something,” she says instead.

Jennifer stands in her doorway, shell-shocked, while Laurel climbs into the car that’s waiting for her and wishes she was already having that glass of wine that she knows is waiting for her on the plane.

Chapter 12

A small branch cracks under her boot as Jennifer hikes through the pines. She’s up near Tingle Lake, which always makes her smile. There’s another body of water nearby aptly called Enchantment. This is the only place she can think clearly anymore. The rest of the world seems to have gone crazy with its need to rush and compete. She thinks, maybe if everyone took a minute to feel this kind of flow, they’d be able to get back in touch with kindness and decency, with the core of who they really are as humans.

She doesn’t want to fight with Laurel anymore. Jennifer searches herself inwardly with every step she takes farther into the woods. An idea has come to her, but she’ll need to convince Laurel to do one more thing, and she’s not sure she has any chances left with her.

Last night she started writing Bette’s vows, and it quickly became clear to her just how personal this journey was for her; she hopes for both of them. The parallels to their own relationship were so obvious that she had no choice but to no longer ignore them. But she’s not sure if she has a shot with Laurel anymore.

Jennifer unzips one of the hidden pockets on her jacket and fishes out her cell phone. She fumbles with it in the dappled sunlight streaming through leaves high above. Finding her last message with Laurel, she hits record and starts to send a voice note.

“Hi, Laurel,” Jennifer keeps hiking as she holds the phone up awkwardly in one hand and grips her hiking pole in the other.

“Listen, I started writing Bette’s vows and I realized something—” Her slightly labored breathing can be heard through the receiver.

“None of this would be without you. This show— this character— all of it, you’re it. You’re the glue that holds it all together. Despite everything— despite the showrunners and the original script and the time when you were gone— You are the reason Bette and Tina kept being magnetic. You’re the magic.” Jen looks up as she hoists herself over a large rock. “You are the sun at the center of my world. You’re the reason we’re all great. I burn brighter because of you, we all do. Our friends, they come to you with their deepest secrets, because you always meet them with acceptance. It’s why I knew I could trust you from the very beginning. I don’t know what I’d do without your steadiness, your wisdom. I know I’m a lot, but somehow it’s never too much for you.”

Jen stops and takes a drink of water from the pack strapped to her back. She hits send on that voice note and immediately begins another one.

“So I’m hoping you will agree to write Tina’s vows,” Jen starts walking again. She’s in a small clearing with wildflowers now.

“And I mean like actually hand-write them. Because I have this idea. You’re going to LOVE this! Well, I hope you’ll love it anyway. I feel like it’s something you’d come up with… I want to do something good with them, something big. And I don’t just mean the show,” Jen rambles, totally oblivious to how she sounds at this point. “Obviously the wedding will be big and meaningful, and did I mention I have some ideas to run by you about that, but more on that later…I’m sorry. I’m getting a bit off track…What do you think if, after the show airs, maybe we donate the handwritten vows to GLSEN? We can use them to raise money, maybe an auction or something? So someday our kids and our kids’ kids and their kids can see themselves in stories again. I want to give them all the mirrors and windows and doors!”

Jen is practically skipping now, her arms swinging and her face turned towards the sun.

She starts another voice note, “I keep thinking what if what if what if??? So many things would be different for me if I had that when I was growing up. So many things would be different for so many people. Maybe things would be different for us…”

Jen pats her thigh and her dog hurries a little closer after her. “I should have never let you feel like a second-rate anything. I should have told you how I felt sooner. I shouldn’t have cared so much about my career… about what other people would think. I should have gone after you. This is me going after you.” Jen has tears in her eyes and feels like her heart might jump out of her chest.

 

—

 

Laurel is at home, having a glass of white wine on the patio after dinner that night, when a bunch of messages come through on her phone all at once.

They’re all from Jennifer. She presses play and starts listening as she props her feet up on another chair and leans back. Wherever she is, she must not have been getting good cell service since the messages all came through together, and it seems like…she’s hiking? Laurel thinks to herself these must have been from earlier in the day. It’s nighttime now, and they’re only two hours apart.

She sips her wine slowly at first, and listens, a little skeptical. Laurel plays the next message. Jennifer gets more and more worked up, practically frantic to tell her everything she’s thinking. Halfway into the second message Laurel sits up and listens more closely, peering at her phone that’s laid flat on the wrought iron table, as if she can see some clue through her screen as to what’s gotten into her friend, this woman that deep down she loves with her whole heart.

Jennifer is screaming now. She might only be yelling her love to the trees and the birds, but Laurel realizes they’re the only ones who matter anyway. No one needs to know about their love; she just wants to be free to be herself, and she wants Jen to feel that freedom too.

She picks up the phone and Jennifer says, “Laurel, I want to give you the world... But I can’t. So I decided to give you,” She emphasizes the next two words carefully. “A World.” Laurel can almost see her talking with her hands even though she was probably hiking through a forest somewhere when she recorded this message to her. “It’s a world that I know you always wanted. I remember you talking about it before Ilene even imagined it was possible. You always saw us at home there— I think it’s a place where Bette and Tina can have the home that works for them. We’re finally going to make the movie! I know I said I’d never live in the city, but I’m moving to New York for you!”

Jennifer is uncharacteristically out of breath but you can just hear the joy in her voice, in her whole being. It makes Laurel so happy.

Laurel smiles as she thinks, this is when Jennifer is at her best. When she’s passionate and outspoken, it inspires everyone around her. When she goes full-force at something, she’s unstoppable. Laurel loves this about her.

But she doesn’t know what she’s talking about - Jennifer is the glue that holds everyone in their little community together. She’s why they remain like a family after all these years. She’s got this ionic spirit that creates connections wherever it goes, and hangs on relentlessly.

She is filled with love. Laurel’s greatest wish for her was always that she just let it pour out.

Truth be told, she always wanted Jennifer to fight for her as much as she could stand up for what’s right and fight for justice. She wanted her to say it - that she’s fighting for freedom and love too.

Laurel gets up and takes her now empty glass with her to the edge of the patio, tapping it with her fingernails. She sits on the stone wall and looks out into the darkened view with little peeks of light shining through here and there. She takes a mental snapshot, hoping she can paint this image later. It reminds her of the peace and serenity she feels in this moment. It reminds her of how Jennifer sounds. It reminds her of the places they came from to be here now. There are so many layers there.

Laurel thinks about how she’s had the rare opportunity to have three great loves in her life, and that she was able to build a life with each one. She is overjoyed to vow that Jennifer will be her last. And she’s excited to see what New York will bring.

She can see now how love wins. Always.

Notes:

I wanted to take a minute to thank all of the people who helped make this story possible. Thanks to everyone on Instagram who posts videos and edits of all the Tibette content. They’ve really been an invaluable and convenient resource when I needed to watch something a thousand times to get the feeling of a scene just right. Thanks to all of my writing teachers over the years and anyone who ever saw someone who loves to write and encouraged that passion, even when the rest of the world tried to tell them otherwise. Thanks to everyone who has ever commented on or liked one of my pieces. Thank you to every journalist who has ever interviewed Jennifer or Laurel. Thank you to whoever was in charge of giving us the gems that are Swimming Pool, That Feeling When, and Attraction. This is also my thank you and my apology to Jennifer Beals and Laurel Holloman, who are obviously very different people than my deeply flawed characters. Thank you both for being creative creatures with deep wells of emotional awareness and enduring compassion. Please accept my undying thanks for putting up with us crazy fans, and for letting us play in this fantasy sandbox with you. To Ilene Chaiken, endless thanks for sharing your creation and your words with the world. Please understand I am also very sorry for making you a semi-antagonist here. For some strange reason I thought this story needed more than just what sometimes seems like the whole world putting up a fight. Most definitely a huge thank you goes out to all those people in my life who told me to just be myself, no matter what. I wouldn’t be where I am today without them. And last but definitely not least, thank you to my wonderful, amazing, impressive, attractive wife who I begged, bribed, and nearly forced to read early drafts, and whom none of this would be possible without, literally, figuratively, and in every way imaginable. This story is really just a love letter to you all. 🙏🏻