Bette nodded. They looked at each other across the small expanse.

"I feel like a dick for saying this, Tina." Bette realized her thoughts as she spoke them. "But considering everything that's going on with you, maybe a one-night stand isn't such a good idea."

Tina stared. "You're kidding."

"No, I'm not. I mean, I meant what I said earlier...that I can't stop wanting you. But it does seem selfish, considering."

Tina continued to stare.

"Tina?"

"What?"

"You're not saying anything." Bette paused. "What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking about what you're saying."

But Tina's eyes were hard, and Bette noticed. "You're pissed."

"No, I'm just trying to understand. You're saying I don't get to have sex because my mother's dying."

Bette blanched.

"What about when she's dead? Then will it be appropriate?"

Bette pushed herself up onto one elbow. "You cannot be serious."

"You were expecting gratitude?"

"No, not gratitude." She sat up all the way. "But some credit maybe? For caring about your mental state?"

"My mental state."

"Don't mock me, Tina."

"I'm not mocking you, Bette. I'm repeating your words back to you. If you don't like how they sound-"

"No, you don't like how they sound," Bette said, cutting her off. "Let's be clear."

"Ok, you're right. I don't like how they sound. You're presumptuous and you don't even realize it."

"And you're defensive."

"So what? I don't have that right?"

"What do rights have to do with anything, Tina? You can defend yourself all you want, against me, against the specter of my betrayal," Bette exaggerated the words. "But you're the one summoning it. I haven't given you a reason."

"And that makes it moot?"

"It makes it tired."

"Oh." Tina nodded slowly, then looked down at her hands, which lay useless in her lap. She thought of all she had planned to do with these hands. The pleasure she had wanted to give Bette. The power that pleasure would give her. She inhaled deeply to invoke the steel inside of her. She did not want to cry. Not again.

"I'm sorry I'm defensive. It's true that I am I guess."

Bette felt pained at Tina's vulnerability. Her confusion. "I'm not trying to pin you to the wall, Tina. I'm not critiquing you, I'm really not."

"Right." Tina didn't look up.

"Please believe me."

"I do."

Bette leaned forward slightly. "Could you look at me when you say that?"

Tina was a hair's breadth from tears. "No."

Bette wanted to intercede, again, but it didn't seem wise. Not anymore. "I just don't think I could make love to you-and let's be clear on this point too, ok? It would be making love. I don't throw that phrase around. And I'm shocked that it feels so appropriate and yet it does. But I don't feel right about going there and then leaving you."

"I told you before that I don't care if you hurt me." Tina's words came out mumbled.

"I know you did," Bette said gently. "But I care."

Tina looked up.

"I do care, Tina. I think you are so lovely, and so desirable, and even right now I'm so physically aware of your presence that I could just shut up and take you." She smiled and Tina achieved a small return smile. A sad one.

"It's because you matter to me that I can't."

"Even if it's what I want?" Tina's voice was suddenly desperate. An eruption of sound. "It's not fair, Bette, that you get to decide for both of us. I appreciate you weighing the gravity of the situation, I do. But it's not right for you to say oh she's grieving, I'm not going there."

"That's not what I'm doing."