Shane watched her friends interaction a thoughtful expression on her face. Bette had felt different from the second they had walked through the door, and Shane had picked up on it immediately. Her face, so often carrying the stress she experienced on a daily basis was relaxed, her eyes twinkling with fun. Shane had put it down to the two weeks break she had enjoyed, but now she wasn't so sure. Shane couldn't ever remember ever seeing Bette so light and carefree, and now she was cooking.

Since when did she cook? Shane wondered, trying to remember a time when Bette had made such an effort. Despite their teasing, they all knew that the problem wasn't the fact that Bette couldn't cook, It was the fact that she didn't want to. Why waste time in the kitchen, when there is a menu by the phone? She would say to her friends. Shane looked at Bette again, more closely this time.

Bette felt Shane's stare, and turned to face her. "What?" she demanded. "Don't tell me you are going to start on me too?" Bette questioned, her eyes shining brightly with mirth.

"Of course not" Shane said, lifting her coffee cup to her mouth and taking a long satisfying sip. "I was just wondering who she is?" She said looking into her cup, talking to no-one in particular

Bette looked down at her plate bashfully, a soft blush colouring her cheeks.

"What?" Alice asked confused "who, who is?" She looked at Shane her eyebrow raised quizzically.

"Bette?" Shane asked.

"Her name is Tina" Bette replied looking at Shane, her face lighting up at the mere mention of her name.

"Who's Tina?" Dana asked looking backward and forward between the two brunettes. "Could someone please tell me what's going on?" She pleaded

Bette looked around the table at each of her friends, and wringing her hands together nervously took a deep breath. "There's something I want to tell you."

Before Bette could start her explanation she was interrupted by the sound of her phone ringing inside the house. Excusing herself she went inside and picked up the handset

___________________________________________________________________

Tina put on the soft bath robe hanging on the back of the door, and gently rubbed her wet hair with a towel. She ran her comb through her hair, deliberately taking her time, trying to control her urge to run into the bedroom, and dial the phone number on the business card she held in her hand earlier.

Eventually she found herself sat back on the bed, phone in hand, and started dialling.