"Because--?" Tina pressed.

"I intend to get that dozen roses," Bette finished, displaying her smile.

Tina smiled back. "Have you been good?"

"I've been excellent." Bette replied.

Tina shook her head, amused. "This show blows. Promise me you'll never be behind a light installation show."

"I promise." Bette answered. "Shall we go, Miss Kennard?"

"That depends," Tina shrugged. "I don't want to go down in history as your worst date ever."

"I doubt that'll ever happen." Bette said. You can just go down, period. But, no. One must not make such innuendo-lined statements.

"Or I can just go down," Tina laughed.

They paused, and glanced at each other. Why was it that after a year apart, they still had something going on between them? The last time they'd shared a zip code, when Bette's father had died, they had ignored their agreement to be friends and had been "intimate" twice. They never talked about it, but it was there. And now?

At the moment the want and need between them was so palpable it was going to take a strong surge of resistance to keep Bette from learning the secrets beneath Tina's black dress, and from Tina to find a way to unlace each one of the strings of the vest that was holding Bette's white top. They stared at each other some more, then a look of worry flickered in Bette's eyes. Could she really risk Tina's friendship that way?

"I'm sorry, that was inappropriate." Tina said quickly. "Way out of line. Must've had a few glasses of bubbly too many."

"T," Bette said slowly.

Tina glanced at her.

Here we go.

"I have a thought." Bette began hesitantly. "It might be crazy."

Tina looked at Bette with a mixture of skepticism, and curiosity. Bette's last "crazy" thought had been a threeway-as-route-to-pregnancy plan.

Bette, on her part, didn't really want to push Tina. As it was, she was above and beyond thankful that Tina was still in her life. The fact that they were forging a friendship was hard, if not downright heartbreaking, but at least they were still in each other's lives.

Bette took a deep breath. "I love you."

"I love you too," Tina said, puzzled.

"But this is ridiculous." Bette added. "We can't pretend we're just friends, not when I want you and from the look in your eyes know you want me, too. So let's not pretend."

Tina wasn't slapping her yet, so Bette pressed on. "I'm around you, and I need to be touched, T. I need to be held. And I need to be loved by you."

Tina hesitated. "Bette, you're---"

"Nothing. Forget it." Bette said quickly, suddenly horrified that she'd made such a proposal. Had she lost her mind? Was this stupid art installation causing her neurons to misfire?

"Are you okay?" Tina suddenly asked, noticing Bette's paling pallor.

"Not really." Bette admitted, her head still spinning, wondering when she'd lost her mind.

"Let's get you home, baby," Tina said, concerned, offering Bette her arm to hold onto.

The ride home was uneventful, save for Bette's increasing panic that she'd said something horrifyingly wrong to the blonde.

When the car stopped in front of the house, Bette seemed to be somewhat calmer, but still worried about what she'd said to Tina. "You want to come in for coffee?"

Tina nodded, following Bette out of the car.

The car gone, Bette and Tina entered the house.

"Shit." Tina said suddenly, seeing the single red rose Bette was holding.

"What?"

"The rest of the dozen. I forgot them in the car."

Bette waved her hand dismissively. "Forget it. I got one. It's enough."

They exchanged smiles.

This thin line they were treading was wearing out and getting even thinner really, really fast.

"So," Bette said suddenly, clearing her throat, "coffee."

"Coffee." Tina agreed.

"Coffee." Bette repeated, as she went to the kitchen, followed by Tina. She glanced around, suddenly disoriented, forgetting where the coffee was supposed to be. "Coffee..."

"You don't have any." Tina told her, examining the canister where the ground coffee was supposed to be.

"Shit. Really?" Bette asked, surprised.

"So I guess that leaves the question if you lured me home under false pretenses," Tina joked.

"The woman who forgot my flowers in the car is in no position to be making snide commentary," Bette reminded.

Tina rolled her eyes, and sat down on the chair by the kitchen table. "Thank you."