While Lois is setting up the beacon (yeah, that's what it is. Apparently in this universe it isn't only ol' Batsy who has a signal), I head toward the bathroom. I drag off my boots, struggling and swearing at the laces. I heave them. Lois loses a vase, and Jimmy barely escapes a concussion.

"Uh, Scribe, kiddo, whatcha up to?" Jimmy peers into the bathroom nervously.

I peel off my socks. "I need bleach, Jimmy. Lye soap, wire scrub brushes, industrial cleaners, maybe ammonia."

"Scribe."

"You don't have it, I can't use you." I bang the door shut and rip my clothes off. My skin feels like it's about to crawl off my body. I turn on the shower, and in a moment it's billowing steam. I step in, yelping at the temperature. Not hot enough. I try shutting off all the cold. It gets a little hotter, but the flow isn't as strong as I'd like.

I'd find a bar of pumice soap on the sink. All those carbon stains Lois had to deal with. I try it with a washcloth first, but it doesn't work up that much lather.

There's a tapping on the door. I hear Lois' voice. "Scribe? Scribe, open the door."

"Go away. Busy." I yell.

The water stings. I'm starting to flush all over, like a full body blush. I drop the cloth and rub the bar hard on my arms, face, hair *forgive me, Clive. I scrub it over my breasts and down between my legs, feeling the grit of the abrasives embedded in the soap. Not enough, still dirty. I start clawing at my skin, trying to strip away the filth.

The only reason I know that I'm crying is because my nose has started to run. With the rapidly cooling water falling on my face, I don't really notice the tears. I notice the little nail brush on the shower shelf, though. How had I missed this? I grab it joyfully and start on my arms, scouring as hard as I can.

I hear the door rattle, and ignore it, moving to my legs. The bristles sting the pink skin, and I think *Good! I can feel it coming off. A little more. Maybe blood, I hear blood is cleansing...

There's a thump, not as loud as it was at Lavender's Green. Then again, Lois' bathroom door is merely locked, not jammed. I hear them gasping. Must be the steam. It's rolling out now, dissipating here in the shower stall. *Wasn't nearly enough to start with. Damn water heating systems haven't caught up with my world at all. I could have cooked myself back home. Can hardly work up a decent scald without heating the water on the stove here.*

Jimmy's voice, worried. "Shit, what's she doing?"

"Oh, damn, I think I know. Jimmy, get me a sheet off my bed." I hear him leave, and footsteps approach. I scrub my neck and shoulders frantically. Lois slides open the doors just a little, reaches in, and shuts off the water.

I reach to try to turn it on again, and she catches my hand. "That's enough."

I try to be reasonable. "No, Lois, really it isn't. I'll be okay in a little while." I shove the brush against the place that has been the most dirtied, and scrub viciously. "I--just--have--to--get--clean." The pain is making my knees go weak, it must be working, right?

She opens the door more, looking in at me. I see the horror on her face, and drop the brush. It tints the tiles pink when it bounces. Oh, yes, I must be a real mess to get that look on her face. "Turn the water back on and give me another minute, and I'll get clean..."

Jimmy comes back in with the sheet, and he turns pale. Great, is it really that obvious? Maybe I should have gone with a bath, water heated on the stove...

Lois takes the sheet and wraps it around me, then they both help me out of the shower. My body is radiating heat, I can't keep any for myself, and my teeth start to chatter. "Let me get back in," I plead. "Maybe it'll be hot again by now."

"Scribe, hush, please. Oh, God. Help me get her in the bedroom, Jimmy."

Protesting all the way, they lead me into Lois' room and urge me down on the big bed. I roll up into a ball, cocooning myself in the fresh smelling sheet, shivering. I hear them whispering, and I hear the word 'doctor'. "No doctor!" I shout. "I'm fine. Just... just need to get clean."

I feel a hand on my back. That's one area I couldn't reach, so it's relatively pain free. "How about a nurse, Scribe? One of my neighbors is a nurse, and she has a first aid kit."

"Maybe later. Not now. Okay? I just need to lay here a little while, okay?"

They whisper a little more. Then the bed sinks on one side, and I feel Lois tugging at the sheet. "C'mon, Scribe. You'll suffocate."

"No, really. Fine. Don't need to. Oxygen's vastly overrated."

She uncovers my face, ruffles my hair. Jimmy comes back in with a small glass of something amber colored and hands it to Lois. She offers it to me. "Drink this."

I sniff, and shake my head. "Uh uh. That's what got me into this."

"No, it isn't. It was one nasty Amazon bitch that got you into this. I'm afraid you're going to go into shock, and I want you to drink this."

"Medical reports in my universe advise against giving anything liquid by mouth when the victim is going into shock. You trying to kill me?"

"We aren't in your universe, are we? Help me, Jimmy." They move me till I'm still balled up, but my back and head are resting against Jimmy's chest, and his arms are around me. Lois tips the glass to my lips, and I swallow numbly. I've never liked straight alcohol, but I manage to keep it down. What's one more ache or burn?

Maybe it helps a little. I don't shake as much. I mutter, "Jimmy, you should let go. You're gonna get filthy."

"Stop it." He puts his face against my neck, his arms tightening. "Just stop it, okay? God, I wish we'd let Clive kill the bitch."

"No, Jimmy. Then she'd feel guilty. You know that."

"I'm right here, you know," I say quietly. Then I giggle, and giggle again, and I keep giggling till it turns into tears. I gasp, "Ooh, I am so fucking ridiculous. I go forty-something years without committing myself sexually, then get molested by a butch Amazon in the bathroom of a gay club in a comic book universe. Somebody out there is laughing their ass off at my expense, and it's pissing me off!"

That little outburst is apparently some sort of catharsis, because I either fall asleep, or go unconscious, I'm not sure which.

In any case, I wake up later. I'm stretched out on the bed, covered by another sheet. I'm still naked, and it's a good thing, too, because I'm starting to feel the damage I did to myself. It's like I'm sunburned over most of my body, and there are raw feeling patches everywhere. I've been slathered in some sort of cool, minty smelling ointment that I believe is helping immensely. There's a little pill bottle on the night stand. I seem to recall a couple of little blue tablets. That may account for the calmness I feel right now.

Jimmy, jacket, shirt, and shoes off, is stretched out on one side of me. Lois, in a pair of striped pajamas, is stretched out on the other. I'm corralled between them. I look back and forth between them. Such good friends. And what I've done... No, what happened to me... It doesn't disgust them. They're worried about me. Concerned. It's so sweet.

I feel the urge to cuddle someone. Even though my whole body feels raw, I want to be hugged. But who?

Lois turns over in her sleep. She's lying on her right side, and her left leg and arm hook over me casually. I shift carefully, turning my back to her, so that she's almost spooned up against me, the sheet between us. Now I'm lying facing Jimmy.

I examine the bright red hair, the pale skin, the impishly handsome face. I reach out timidly, and touch his stomach. He blinks awake, and looks over at me questioningly. He whispers, "Scribe? You better now?"

"Yeah. But I'm still cold."

"I'll get a blanket."

"No." I tug lightly at his arm. "Please?"

His eyes soften in understanding, and he slides closer. He slides one arm under my head, puts the other around me, and moves up against me. I feel solid, living heat from both sides. The warm breath of people who care about me tickles my neck, and cheek. Jimmy drops a small kiss on my forehead, and whispers, "Go back to sleep. You need it."

"Okay." This time it's a normal, though deep sleep. I need it, because in the morning I'm going to have to start really dealing with what happened.