Tina turned to Bette as they approached the door Tina had hoped she would never have to enter again. "Just remember, baby, I love you. And whatever you see here tonight just reflects how lost I was without you."

Bette gave her a quick kiss. "You slut."

"Your slut." Tina returned, kissing her again. "Remember--"

"Five minutes, don't approach you, your signal, seduce you brazenly." Bette said in a matter-of-fact manner. "Got it. Go."

Tina reluctantly pulled away.

"Hey, T?"

Tina smiled at her. "Yeah?"

"I love you too."

Tina smiled at her, that special smile reserved specially for Bette Porter, and took a deep breath. "Here we go."

Bette nodded, and watched as Tina turned, and approached the door, walking ahead of her wife, and then entering the bar behind the door.

Bette checked her watch, then took a deep breath as she thought of why they were here.

It had started with an innocent breakfast, at a place which Tina seemed to frequent, with Amy and her two-year-old son. A woman who'd walked in had freaked out and ran out at the sight of Tina, prompting Tina to busy herself in a crazy manner with her set of scrambled eggs. Bette had looked at Amy inquiringly, but she wasn't offering information, either. If only it had been Alison or Shannen, she was sure to have gotten some kind of clue.

As they'd walked out another woman had strode in, seen Tina, and completely ignoring Bette or Amy, had wrapped her arms around the flustered blonde, offering how she was "in town for a few hours".

Tina had barely said an answer when the woman let her go, saying simply, "call me."

It was not the first time some random woman would ogle Tina, approach her Tina, nor was it the first time Tina would look at Bette with sheer panic. Yes, women tend to approach Bette, too, but for some reason it was harder for Tina to shake women off.

Apparently some women thought Tina had invented her marriage and used Bette as a prop to dissuade them from... well, Tina.

Bette had been torn between finding it endlessly amusing and wanting to tear the women limb from limb, but figured Tina would explain.

Tina didn't. Or, more accurately, couldn't. Apparently the way she handled casual sex was to make it a habit. So she hadn't exactly had a multitude of one-night stands, it was more of she had a harem who were at her disposal as she pleased.

She didn't know how it happened, it just did. Her natural instinct to be friendly and the way people wanted to be with her had taken control, refusing to let her meet women and just use them and lose them.

Not at all.

People liked being around Tina, the way she was such a positive being in other people's lives even when she was falling apart inside. She was a person who could make anyone's day better, just being around them. Maybe it was the inner hippie that resided within Tina, but her positive energy had a positive effect on the people around her. And people were drawn to that energy, that spirit. Even when Tina hated the world, or was looking for a fight, people liked being around her. Let them be the victim of her wrath, or her frustration. Just let them be around her.

Bette once felt that very feeling, and she continued to do so, except this was deeper than just wanting to be around Tina: She wanted Tina to want to be around her.

So she understood, sort of, Tina's reasoning. She just didn't understand why Tina wouldn't just push people away. It was a conscious effort for her, even when the people who wanted to be around her meant nothing to the blonde.

Some, like the woman who'd run out the door, had believed the relationship had a little more foundation than there was. According to Tina, when she had snuck out of her apartment the last time, she had hoped it to be the last time they would see each other. Or at least let the sneaking out be the woman's clue that it wasn't as deep as she thought.

Bette didn't quite believe her, so Tina had offered to bring her to a bar she'd used to frequent. They would walk in separately, and Bette could observe the player that had been Tina Kennard sans Bette Porter. When given the proper signal, Bette was to approach Tina, pretty much disappoint all others who hoped, and declare Tina her property. Bette didn't like thinking of Tina that way, as her "property", but figured if that was the only way other women would stop expecting her presence around Tina to expire, then Bette was all for it.

Five minutes. Bette straightened, then went into the bar.

It wasn't packed, but it wasn't exactly barren, either. There were quite a number of women, of varying shapes and sizes, but Bette noticed that unlike The Planet during Marina's ownership, there was no sense of kinship among these women. These women were all young professionals, as evidence by their clothing choices, and Bette couldn't help but be thankful that Tina had played it safe. She also couldn't help but notice that since it was after work hours, the women here all wore the same tailored power suits she and Tina were sporting.

Suddenly she understood.

She figured out what Tina had been doing. She understood what Tina had been looking for, and why of all the bars in the City, she chose this one.

There was discretion here. There was a sense of formality here.

There were tailored power suits here.

She had been looking for sheep's solace in familiar wolf's clothing.

She may have been looking to take her mind away from Bette, but she needed to keep a part of herself apart. So she chose women who were professional, career women who would not sacrifice their lives for love, or affection, or anything of the sort. They would be acquaintances, but not friends. They would be lovers, but not be in love.

She'd broken Tina, betrayed the part of her that had thought she knew Bette, that Tina no longer knew who Bette Porter was. So Tina had sought people who reminded her of the Bette she knew, the one she'd known a long time ago.

Bette saw Tina at the bar, surrounded by different women, all vying for a moment of her time. For her attentions. Begging for something they must know they could never have from the ray of sunshine that was Tina Kennard: her affections.

Tina caught her gaze, and neither woman could help the smile that played on their lips at the sight of each other. That was the problem with being in love with Tina: you wanted to share with the world just how enamored you were of her.

And then there's the pride in being the woman who held and kept Bette Porter's heart.

Some women glanced in Bette's direction, following Tina's line of vision, while others remained focused on Tina. Was Tina some kind of Lothario in these parts?

Tina turned her attention from Bette, returning her attention to the woman beside her, and Bette felt the warmth of Tina's attention leave almost immediately.

It's an act, Porter. It's just an act you're supposed to rescue her from. Bette reminded herself, as she made her way to the bar, deliberately moving to the farthest part of the bar from Tina.

Out of the corner of her eye, Tina saw Bette walk past, and felt that all-too-familiar tug at her heart when she was near Bette but unable to touch her.

It was strange, really. When she'd moved here she felt so unwanted, so undesirable, that when the first few times men had approached her in the bars Alison had dragged her to, she'd assumed it was the hetero tendency to come on to a gay woman. Except Alison pointed out that there was no way the male population of New York would know that, unless they were veteran industry insiders.

And her first foray into gay bars? The amount of women hitting on her had been a shock, after all she'd always been with Bette. The lesbian community of WeHo understood, and respected that. At the time, of course, there was no Bette, no WeHo, and she had no clue how to handle it.

So she did what she felt was best, or safest for herself: keep distance, but not be like Shane who used them, and lost them. No, Tina had a more concrete image for herself, which ironically was the same image she continued to look for.