Robie walked into her apartment with Cassie in tow. She continued into her living room, turned on the lamp and stopped. Cassie stood behind her, wrapping her arms slowly around her waist. Robie shivered as she felt Cassie’s lips softly caress the back of her neck. "It’s true, what you said." She whispered huskily, and moaned as she felt the wet warmth of Cassie’s tongue on her skin.

"What did I say?" Cassie whispered, pulling Robie tighter against her hips, kissing her shoulders lightly, running her tongue softly over the skin.

Robie gasped, pushing her hips backward to meet hers, her back arching. "Jeffrey does hate you." She reached back to grab Cassie’s hips and pulled them forward. "He’s insecure because he knows Andrea’s not in love with him, but with you… She just doesn’t know it yet."

She felt Cassie pause in her exploration. Her arms loosened around her. "You’re talking nonsense." She said, and pulled away from her. "Andrea is straight."

Robie turned to gaze at her, laughing softly. "You are as naïve as Andrea then, Cassidy. You’re so blind with love for her that you can’t even see the magnitude of her love for you. Shit, she can’t even see it herself!" She said, laughing again.

Cassie wouldn’t allow herself to be hopeful; she didn’t want to be hurt. "Andrea is straight." She argued stubbornly.

"Okay." Robie shrugged, she wasn’t about to argue. Her body quivered with desire as she studied Cassie from head to toe. "Come here, baby. I want you to make love to me…" She whispered huskily, opening her arms in invitation.

Cassie smiled, grateful for Robie's sudden change of subject. She walked into her arms and pressed her lips against her, her silky tongue dancing into Robie’s mouth and making gentle contact. She shuddered as Robie’s hands traveled down the length of her lean back and cupped her hard buttocks. She pulled her mouth away from Robie’s to gasp for air; her body was trembling with the heat of Robie’s hands and lips. She looked into Robie’s eyes as she whispered: "I want you! Right here, on the floor, completely naked!"

Robie felt her legs weaken; she wasn’t sure how, but she ended up on her back, Cassie’s hard body on top of her, pressing against her and expertly bringing her close to orgasm before they even got their clothes off.

Andrea shivered violently as Jeffrey entered her. He was slow with her, gentle. He groaned as he pushed deeper into her, as he felt her warmth completely envelop him. "Oh, Andy, I love you!" He gasped as he began a slow rhythm with his hips. He felt her wrap her legs around his waist, her small arms around his neck.

Andrea felt the rhythm inside her, but for some reason, she wouldn’t, could not, respond to him the way she thought she should. Only a small flicker of pleasure pulsed through her. Not enough to make her orgasm, no man had ever brought her to that. It wasn’t that Jeffrey was a bad lover, she’d had her share of them, and Jeffrey didn’t fit into that category. He was the gentlest and most thoughtful. Orgasm was a stranger to her; the closest she thought she’d gone was when she dared to touch herself.

Her distracted mind strayed to Cassie, her beloved Cassie. My beautiful best friend, whom I love and who loves me. She closed her eyes when she felt Jeffrey increasing the speed of his rhythm.

With her eyes closed, her mind produced an image of Cassie, with her tender smiles, so beautiful and sweet. And then she remembered the way Cassie held her when they danced, the feel of her silky lips against the skin of her forehead. A flash of heat went through her body, and she arched under Jeffrey. The image she’d conjured had been innocent and sweet; she didn’t understand why her body reacted in that manner. But then unwittingly, her mind conjured an image of herself and Cassie, dancing, holding each other the way they did at the restaurant. Only in this image, Cassie didn’t kiss her forehead; she kissed her lips, sweetly and passionately.

Another jolt shook her, and before she knew it, she was clenching tightly around Jeffrey, experiencing an orgasm. Her cry startled Jeffrey, who’d never heard her cry out in that manner. He had finished along with her, and remained on top of her, asking if she was okay. "Yes, please get off me, please, Jeffrey!" She begged, out of breath, feeling the confusion burn through her. She’d never done that before, thought of Cassie while she was in bed with any other man. And look at what just happened, she reproached herself, I came my heart out. Came like I never did before. With just a thought of Cassie…

"I’m going out of state in a couple of weeks, Andy." Jeffrey said into Andrea’s hair. He lay on his back and she lay half of her body in his arms. She played with the hairs on his wide chest, her small fingers twirling the curls around.

She lifted her head to look at him. "Where?" She asked.

"Massachusetts." He replied, kissing the top of her head. "Just for a couple of weeks, some business work." Jeffrey was a business partner at a prosperous travel agency. From time to time, he would go away a week or more to travel agents conventions at resorts and lodges. So Andrea didn’t find it strange. "There’s a new resort that sounds good for business. Agents from all over the country were invited to see it and try it out for a couple of weeks."

Andrea smiled. "That’s great!" She said, kissing him lightly on his chin.

"I wish you could come with me." He said, tightening his muscled arms around her.

"I have a job, Jeffy. Plus, it’s a business trip." Andrea said, but she really didn’t want to go with him. "Now, go to sleep." She ordered softly, patting his chest softly, closing her eyes and burrowing deeper into his embrace.

"Ms. Cates, I don’t see why we have to write this essay on Adolph Hitler." Roseanne Mitchell was saying in her lovely voice two Mondays later; she was one of Andrea’s all time favorite students. Her bright red hair bobbed up and down as she spoke. "Mrs. Morello could have given us someone better, like… Franklin D. Roosevelt!" Her blue eyes lit up. "There’s one guy who deserves a little praise." She continued before Andrea got a word of response in; she opened her mouth again to reply. But Roseanne rambled on: "I mean, to be sick enough to be crippled and still have the strength to run a country, much less a war…"

Roseanne was a lively Irish-American fifteen-year-old descendant whose thin mouth ran more than her feet. She was short and thick, more like bubbly, and plain and simply adorable. Andrea, in her five years of teaching, had never met a student who had as many friends as Roseanne did. She was a great student, and got excellent grades, which also made her a favorite among teachers.

"Why don’t you speak to her about it?" Andrea asked her when she finally quieted down. They were sitting in the small office Andrea shared with another English teacher. Every day, on Roseanne’s free period, which would also be one of Andrea’s, they would sit in the smallish office and have interesting conversations.

A sound like a squeal came out of Roseanne’s mouth. Her eyes widened so much that her blue irises were completely visible. "Are you crazy?" She exclaimed, her voice rose an octave. "I’m complaining, yeah. But that’s just between you and me, Ms. Cates." Her facial expression changed to that of secrecy. "You know I’ll do the stupid essay anyway."

Andrea laughed; Roseanne made her laugh too much. "Oh, Roseanne. No wonder every body loves you." She said breathlessly between her laughter. "You’re adorable."

Roseanne brightened even more. "I must remind you of yourself, then." She replied, her cheeks flushing. "Everybody loves you too. When you’re not around, the students just go on and on about you. All the boys are in love with you," He hesitant. "Even the gay boys and girls."

Andrea laughed again; her stomach was beginning to hurt. "How’s your mother, Roseanne?" She asked, changing the subject.

"She’s fine." Roseanne answered, smiling. Andrea had met Carey Mitchell at a parent-teacher conference and the two women had taken to each other. Carey was a short butch who was definitely not in the closet. She’d gotten pregnant with Roseanne when she spent the night with a gay man, who was her best friend. For as long as they’d known each other, Carey and Roseanne’s father wanted to have a child together. And they did, raising the child with love and an open-mindedness that paid them well. But really, the biggest reason for Andrea’s fondness for Carey was that she reminded her of Cassie, with her aggressive demeanor and courteous attitude. "She says hello."

"Same from me." Andrea said, glancing at her watch. "Tell her I’ll call her about dinner soon. Now, the bell’s about to ring. You better get ready." She advised. She watched Roseanne pick up her things from the small student desk by the corner and shove them into her backpack. "See you in class."

Roseanne walked to the door, turned around and said: "See you in class." Then walked out and closed the door behind herself.

Andrea sat back on her chair and sighed dreamily, her thoughts straying to Cassie, as they seemed to be going more and more. She wondered what she was doing at that exact moment.

Cassie leaned forward in her seat, switched on her computer, and waited for its program to load. She watched solemnly as the usual information scrolled through the dark screen. She stood up and went to her kitchen, -rolling her wide muscular shoulders- a large and stylish piece of work. The cabinets were made of oak, shiny and spacious. The refrigerator was a large Westinghouse double door, which produced ice and water out of a built in hole on the freezer door. The oven, along with the microwave, was also Westinghouse, and was custom-built into the wall and ran off electricity.

Cassie opened the refrigerator and peered inside, looking for something to snack on. She worked out of her office at home from time to time, not finding it really necessary to be at the main building every day. Still, she had an office waiting for her. Her computer at home was linked to the ones at work, and whenever she needed information to work for an article all she had to do was call and link with the computer through the telephone lines with a code.

Her editor, Joel Michaels, the chief editor of New Carter News, was a short plump man in his thirties with penetrating brown eyes and blonde hair. He was generally nice, but could be a pain in the ass when it suited him. Cassie was awaiting email from him, feedback on the latest article she’d written. She’d left her assignment on human rights on his desk the previous Friday, along with a note letting him know she’d remain home that Monday, to email her with his comments. When he presented her with that assignment, she’d been glad. She’d gotten in touch with old flames or friends who were known activists in the gay, lesbian, black, and other organizations. Some were leaders, while others just helped or supported.

What she basically did was go around visiting some of them at these organizations, asking for numbers on statistics and opinions on today’s youth, the rising of the AIDS epidemic, and the government’s almost non-existent help. After she received what she needed, she began to write her first draft, reviewed it, and finished her second draft easily. That was the one she’d sent Joel.

Finally, she found something to her liking. A frozen yogurt. She sat down on her black plush-leather couch. She sighed, feeling it mold to her body, holding the teaspoon and cup on each hand. She ate the yogurt slowly, her mind fading, conjuring thoughts of Andy. Cassie missed her already. She’d last seen her three days before, on Friday night, with Jeffrey at her shoulder, keeping eye on her every movement. She wondered when there would be a time when he wouldn’t be present, building a wall between them.

Cassie couldn’t help but dislike him; she never disliked any of Andrea’s previous boyfriends; as much as they knew the deep nature of her love for Andrea, they never tried to separate them. Andrea would never have allowed it. But Jeffrey, Cassie grimaced at the thought of him, Jeffrey hated her with an unnatural passion. He was trying to do everything possible to separate them, and Cassie knew it. She knew she wasn’t fighting, but then again, she was never one to fight. If she would have been a fighter, if she had fought against Jeffrey for herself, she knew Andy would have at least been aware of her feelings. If she had been a fighter, she knew she wouldn’t have tried to commit suicide that long ago day when her family turned their backs on her.

She still had the marks on her wrists to prove it, and still, at times, she felt like reopening those wounds. Cassie remembered it as if it were yesterday. She was fifteen then, and had gone to her mother, sat down in front of her between her and the TV. Mrs. Martica Monsignor had been, and still probably still was, Cassie didn’t know, a television addict. Nothing, except her husband and the kitchen, could get her off the couch and her knitting. So when a young Cassidy sat in front of her, trying to get her attention, Mrs. Monsignor ignored her, looking over her shoulder at the old General Electric television. "Mom," Cassidy had said softly, shyly, struggling against her resolve. "I need to talk to you."

Mrs. Monsignor stared at her daughter as if she were a pest. "What?" She demanded in cold exasperation. "What is it?"

Cassie cringed at the cold tone of her mother’s voice. "Mom," She was always an intelligent speaker. "You have to be objective. You have to listen to me, don’t shut me out, please."

Mrs. Monsignor stared at her daughter, whom she didn’t feel deep in her heart, with annoyance. "Will you say it already," She exclaimed, her accent thick. "I’m missing the Ed Sullivan show!"

Cassie had taken a deep breath and blurted it all out. About her feelings for other females, of her desires. Of everything that was in her heart, with just a little hope that her mother would understand and love her anyway.

Her mother stared at her blankly, and then, with a horrifying look of disgust, unleashed a hard slap to young Cassidy’s face. Cassidy fell off the coffee table, feeling the stinging spot where her mother’s ragged hand had landed. "Don’t talk that crap in my house!" Mrs. Monsignor had shrieked, stomping over to where her daughter lay shocked. Her kick to the stomach sent the air from the vulnerable Cassidy. "You’re not my daughter," She hissed vehemently. "And wait until Carlos comes home."

Cassidy ran to her room, where she lay in a state of hysteria, trembling violently. She knew her father wouldn’t be so nice. About two hours later, the sound of her father’s steps through the house, her mother’s low and angry voice, and then the heavy sound of his angry steps coming up the stairs, sent her into a sobbing fit. The severe beating she received still didn’t absolve her from going to school the next day.

Bruised and aching, her heart completely numb, a sharp blade inside her pocket, she left the house the next morning to school. Andy had been waiting for her outside the school at their usual spot. And when Cassidy didn’t stop to greet her and talk to her, but sped by instead, she knew something was terribly wrong. She called out her name, then merely followed when Cassidy didn’t answer her. Cassidy went into an empty bathroom and when Andrea walked in a few seconds later, she found her standing and staring expressionless at a quickly growing pool of blood at her feet.

Her wrists were cut open, she was paling very quickly, and her legs wavered. There seemed to be so much blood. Andrea had screamed for help and ran to her best friend’s side. When Cassidy crumpled in her arms, getting blood all over her, her face unnaturally pale, her eyes crossing before they fluttered closed, she knew Cassidy was the most important thing in her life. She never ceased letting Cassidy know that.

Cassidy’s heart skipped a beat at the thought of being in Andrea’s arms. She closed her eyes, feeling in her body a rush of intense heat. She would make passionate love to her, make her know with her body what she couldn’t describe with words. The jarring sound of the phone startled her out of her thoughts. She picked up on the second ring. "Hello?" She said hoarsely.

"Cassie," It was Andy, her soft voice sending a chill through Cassie’s spine. And then needlessly, she said: "It’s Andy."

Cassie would recognize that beautiful voice anywhere; she closed her eyes to the sound of the velvet voice on the other side of the line. "Hi, Andy." She whispered hoarsely. "I recognized your voice."

"Are you okay, Cassie?" Andy asked, worry in her voice. "Are you getting a cold?"

God, she’s so innocent! Cassie thought with a deep swelling of her heart. How could I ever corrupt her like that? "I’m fine, Andy." She said after clearing her throat. "I was resting a little, that’s all. How are you?"

Andy smiled. "I’m okay, Cassie." She paused, hesitating. "I missed you."

Cassie’s heart quickened, and she berated herself: You're her best friend, of course she misses you!’ She shook her head. Stop this, Dammit! She’s innocent! "I’ve missed you too, Andy." She said in a low voice.

Andy closed her eyes, feeling her throat constrict. "Have dinner with me, Cassie." She said impulsively. "It’s been a long time. Just you and me." She continued, placating.

"What about Jeffrey?" Cassidy asked, despite herself.

"He’ll be at a dinner meeting, Cassie." Andrea replied firmly, letting her know with her tone of voice that it didn’t matter whether he was in a meeting or not. She wanted to have dinner with her, and that was it. She said: "And even if he weren’t, I’d still go to dinner with you." She paused. "So, will you have dinner with me?" She asked again.

Cassidy couldn’t say no, she wanted so much to look into her Andy’s sky blue eyes and feel as if she were staring at the sky itself. She wanted to feel her love, even if it wasn’t the same woman-to-woman love she felt for her. "Okay," She said softly. "Where do you want to meet?"

Andy let out a long held breath, she was so sure Cassie would decline. "Great!" She exclaimed. "Come and pick me up. We’ll go to a nice, comfortable place. No need to dress up."

"Okay, at eight?" Cassie asked, feeling nice. Very nice.

"Eight it is." Andy said lightly, then: "I love you." And hung up.

Cassie smiled to herself, feeling her heart was about to beat out of her chest. She took a deep breath, and realized the yogurt lay forgotten on the white coffee table in front of her. She shook her head; she wasn’t hungry any more. She stood up, deciding to make a visit to a dear old friend.

Ashleigh Simmons was a very active member in the war against AIDS. A medical doctor and blood specialist for twenty plus years, she had become especially interested in the cause when her younger brother died of the horrid disease. An austere, though highly attractive woman in her forties, she held ground in her field of work. Her short graying hair and flashing green eyes gave her an air of sophistication that preceded her wherever she showed her presence. Articulate in speech, she was highly educated and her social status remained unperturbed despite the openness of her sexuality. Very tall and built, she was healthy in every extent. She was in great shape for her forty-seven years of age. She exercised regularly, sometimes with Cassidy, most of the time alone.

This afternoon, for instance, she received Cassidy’s call and immediately made plans to meet at the gym.

Bailey’s Gym, located uptown on McGuire Boulevard owned the whole building from which it operated. Large beige stucco, one hundred years old, it held six floors reserved strictly to all exercise and therapeutic equipment. Its other seven floors were used for offices for employees and physiotherapists that decided to operate from there.

Presently, Ashleigh was walking on the treadmill, on the Hill Level. She’d been at it for a little over thirty minutes and the sweat was running in rivulets down her sculpted body. Cassidy was running on her own treadmill, her leg muscles shifting visibly and attractively. It was all Ashleigh could do to not loose her footing and fall off the mill. She and Cassidy had slept together a good amount of times, but were also well acquainted as friends. Not that sex between them was bad; indeed, it was mind-blowing. "For a much younger woman," (twenty years younger, in fact) She once breathlessly told Cassie, "You sure know how to use your hands." They cared about each other, very much, and never gave up the opportunity to do things together.

Ashleigh had met Cassidy when she was in her tenth year as a doctor. Cassidy had been seventeen, and had been brought in dying from self-inflicted severely deep slices to both her wrists. Ashley definitely saved her, a crash operation that brought the veins back together and the precariously open skin closed, all performed in the Emergency Room. Cassidy remained unconscious for three and a half days, no visits from her parents, and Ashleigh could remember leaning against the bed and staring at the beautiful young woman she was. And that hadn’t changed, Cassidy was as gorgeous as ever. Ashleigh had to wonder what brought Cassidy to that extreme. She remembered Andrea and how she saw the reason Cassidy fell so helplessly in love with her.

Andrea nurtured Cassidy back to life, back to health. She never missed a day without seeing her. She would run over right after school and remain there until her father would pick her up at the end of the visiting hours. Andrea had a beautiful smile and gorgeous loving eyes that would make anyone’s head lighten. "Ash," Cassidy said, a little out of breath. She flicked her wetly bouncing hair from her forehead in an impatient gesture. Ashleigh found the gesture adorable. "What are you thinking of?"

Ashleigh smiled at her, wiping the sweat off her forehead with her towel. "Of Andrea, when she went to see you at the hospital, when you and I first met." She replied in her throaty voice. "You were so obviously in love then."

Cassidy’s eyes widened. "Have I always been that obvious?" She asked, awed.

Ashleigh punched the buttons that would stop the machine. It slowed to a stop. Cassie did the same, and stood with taut legs wide, taking deep breaths and wringing her wide shoulders. Ashleigh touched her shoulder with her large doctor’s hand and Cassidy stopped her movements. "You always were, Cas." She said softly, squeezing her shoulder. "I’m still trying to figure out how Andrea doesn’t know." The touch of her hand was so comforting. Cassie felt like crying.

Ashleigh crooned, seeing her gathering tears and pulling her into an embrace.

"I love her so much!" Cassie gasped, feeling the tears stinging her eyes. Her body shook with her suppressed tears, but she suddenly pulled back, meeting Ashleigh’s eyes with her own. "I’m hurting, Ash!" She said raggedly, and turned away, wiping at her tears. Her cheeks and nose were flushed; her sensuous mouth was now a thin line of despair.

Ashleigh watched her, compassion and deep caring squeezing her heart. "You don’t talk about this," She said softly, touching her chest with her finger. "Why don’t you come to my place after dinner?" She suggested, deciding right there and then that she’d make love to her then, to give Cassidy her care. They hadn’t for almost a year, and it was about time.

Cassidy nodded, knowing what would happen. She wanted it, and who better with than Ashleigh. "I’ll see you tonight, then." She said, sniffing. She looked at the large face of her designer watch. SIX THIRTY FIVE. "I have to go, Ash. But I’ll call you on my way over."

She let the phone ring three times before picking it up. She reached over to her bedside table. "Hello?" She said breathlessly, sitting back down on the bed and bending over to continue to pull her tight white socks.

"It is Carey. How are you?" The friendly voice with the thick Irish accent on the other line said.

Andrea smiled at the sound of her friend’s voice. "Hi!" She greeted. "I’m glad to hear from you." She continued sincerely.

Carey laughed. "So am I." She noticed Andrea’s uneasy breathing. "What in the world are you doing?"

Andrea laughed. "Sicko," She teased. "Pulling on my socks, I’m having dinner with Cassie tonight."

Carey smiled. "So what’s the miracle?" She asked, surprised.

Andrea shrugged, chuckling gently. "I don’t know, but I’m taking advantage." She said softly, not really knowing what to say about Cassidy’s disappearing acts, except that she constantly missed her and thought of her. In times of distress over Cassie’s disappearances, Andrea had always called Carey for consolation and advice. She hurt so much when Cassie avoided her, in a way that left her feeling so empty inside.

"How was Valentine’s dinner with her?" Carey asked.

Andrea sighed, remembering the evening as if it were yesterday, specially dancing with Cassie. "It was great… and I cried. I didn’t know I missed her so much." She said slowly. "It felt so good to hold her close like that, you know? We danced a lot."

Well, what do you know? Could Andy be in love with Cassidy and not even know it? She mused, her eyebrows arching; she nodded slowly to herself in answer. "You and Cassie?"

Andrea smiled softly. "Yes," She said dreamily. "She’s a great dancer, better than any of my boyfriends. And Jeffrey doesn't dance, really. Nevertheless, I never really liked to dance with any of them, not since Cassie first danced with me." She knew she must have been rambling, but when it came to Cassie, she always rambled.

"What time are you leaving?" Carey asked.

Andrea glanced at her watch. SEVEN FORTY FIVE, the face said. "In about fifteen minutes." She replied, leaning back on the bed when she finished.

"Okay, then." Carey said. "Call me tomorrow. Maybe we can have some dinner."

"Okay, say hello to Roseanne for me, will you?" Andrea said, smiling.

"Will do." Carey said, smiling. "Bye."

Both women hung up. Not five minutes passed before the loud sound of a horn pierced the air. Andrea shook her head at the sound, laughing, and picking up her jean jacket from the coat rack. She walked out of the apartment, turning off all the lights.

Cassidy’s breath caught in her throat at the sight of casually clad Andrea as she came down the steps of her brownstone house. She wore black cargo shorts and a white short-sleeve T-shirt. Her yellow construction boots were new and not scuffed yet; her white socks were rolled down to her ankles. Her hair was loose and windswept. She looked adorably young and preppy. She watched her jump into the passenger seat of her red Mustang Convertible. "Hi," Andrea said, throwing her arms over Cassidy’s shoulders and pulling her close to kiss her cheek.

The sweet scent of her perfume, Cassidy recognized it as Versace, sent a shiver through her. "Hi," She said shyly, taken aback by the hot-cold shiver running through her body. She shifted gears and pulled into traffic. "Where are we going?" She asked after a few minutes of silence, in which she remembered the memorized feeling of Andrea’s breast pressing against her arm.

Andrea grinned, turning over in her seat to stare at Cassidy. "Benny’s." She said softly, allowing her eyes to take in Cassie’s soft beauty. Every time she stared at her, she seemed to newly realize a little more of how beautiful Cassidy’s whole body was. Tonight she realized how beautiful her profile was. Her forehead high, but softly feminine, it softly blended with the perfectly straight nose; her lips were smooth and full, her thick lower lip pouted sensuously. Her eyebrows were thin and black, and her lashes long and naturally curly. Her jaw was strong and chiseled. Her skin was so smooth looking that Andrea couldn’t help but reach out and touch her skin. "You’re beautiful, Cassie." She whispered, feeling her heart swell.

Cassie’s heartbeat quickened as she felt the strong intensity of Andrea’s gaze upon her. She didn’t trust herself to answer. She pressed the play button on her car radio, and the soft music of Tara MacLean, a new pop singer, blared out of her speakers. The song, titled "That’s Me," rang a bell inside Cassidy, and she listened quietly, like always. Andrea sat back, and listened too.

Benny’s was a brand new restaurant built two years ago. It’s interiors were decorated tastefully to make it’s patrons feel comfortable, and to allow them to dress as they wished. The chairs and tables were made of a comfortable and stylish silvery metal; they gave it the quality of modernity. Inside, Andrea took out the time to see what Cassie was wearing, and approved. She wore snug Kakhi shorts, a black T-shirt and white sneakers. Andrea noticed the tautness of the muscles on her legs and thighs, and asked: "You’ve been going to the gym?" She sat down on the chair Cassidy pulled out for her.

Cassidy smiled. "Yes, I have. Today was the last time, actually." She answered, settling down across from her. "I went with Ashleigh."

Andrea smiled at Cassidy. "You’ve seen Ashleigh?" She asked. "How is she?" She knew of Cassie’s various encounters with Ashleigh, and found it slightly amusing that a woman her age could still do such passionate and energetic romps with someone as young as Cassie was, compared to her. But then again, Andrea thought. Ashleigh Simmons is in great shape. She knew that at one point, when Cassie had been twenty-one, she'd ended up sleeping with Ashleigh, and that their already strong friendship was made even stronger by that fact.

"She’s doing great. I’m seeing her again later on tonight." Cassidy said, smiling back at Andrea. "She sends her greetings."

"Tell her I said hello too." Andrea said, a knowing smile on her lips. They paused as their waiter asked for their orders. After he left them, Andrea whispered, reaching over and touching Cassie’s hand with the tips of her fingers: "I’ve really missed you, Cassie." Her eyes searched for Cassie’s, which were locked to their touching hands. She couldn't seem to stop telling her that she missed her.

Cassie’s throat constricted, she couldn’t speak. She looked up at Andrea, trying not to let her emotions show through them. She lost herself in the blue of Andrea’s gaze, her heart beating quickly out of control. "Andy," She said hoarsely, knowing she wasn’t making a good show at hiding how deep her feelings for Andrea really were. Now it depended on Andrea to see or not. She pulled her hand away; the spot Andrea touched felt as if it were burning.

Andrea didn’t see the emotions playing across Cassidy’s eyes; she just didn’t know how to read it in her gaze. A thought occurred to her. "Let’s have a picnic, this weekend or the next." She said impulsively, wanting to spend more time with her. "Jeffrey is going to be away on business matters. Just you and me, at Fountain Woods?" She pleaded with her eyes. Fountain Woods had been the place where they would go together in their youth so that Cassidy would get away from the misery at home, and where they could be together alone. The thought brought back wonderful memories to both women. "Where we used to go all the time, remember? To be together," She whispered, never taking her eyes off Cassie’s.

Cassie couldn’t stand to look into her eyes; she looked down at the table. Andrea took her hands into hers. "What’s wrong, Cassie?" She demanded softly. "I’m your best friend, you need to talk to me." Her eyes watered.

Cassie closed her eyes tightly against the lightheaded feeling of the love she held for Andrea in her heart. Impulsively, she pulled Andrea’s hands up to her lips, kissing them sweetly. Andrea held her breath, her eyes wide, feeling a flash of heat start in her heart and spread through her abdomen and then through her body. The lips pressed so passionately against her skin were silky and warm. She watched as Cassie lowered her hands and remained still, her eyes closed with so much feeling.

"So," She whispered hoarsely, her eyes taking in Cassie’s beauty without tiring. "Will you have the picnic with me at Fountain Woods?"

Cassie opened her eyes to Andrea’s and nodded, staring at the full pink lips. She has such lovely lips. She thought fleetingly. "Yes," She said, smiling tenderly at her. She couldn’t say no to her.

Andrea was delighted, her eyes brightened visibly and she seemed to glow. Their food arrived and they ate, also talking. Andrea did most of the talking. "Roseanne," She was saying with great enthusiasm around her huge chicken sandwich. "You remember her, don’t you? Her mother is Carey Mitchell."

Cassie nodded, relieved to be out of the intensity of the previous moment. "Yes, I remember her." She said, munching on her own sandwich, a broiled fish delight.

"Well," Andrea continued, her blue eyes glistening. "The other day, she said to me that…"

Cassidy allowed her eyes the freedom of taking in Andrea’s angelic beauty as she spoke. She could see Andrea blushing slightly, she couldn’t wonder why, so intense was her gaze. She laughed at something Andrea said about Roseanne; she was so clearly fond of the girl. Suddenly, she stopped, gazing back at Cassie. "Talk to me about you." She said, a serious tone in her voice.

Cassie’s gaze fell to the table; she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t really like to talk about herself. Andrea asked her about work, knowing Cassidy like the palm of her hand. Or so she thought. "Well, I gave in the article." Cassidy said. "Joel got back to me today. He said he loved it. It’ll be published on Wednesday’s edition."

Andrea beamed proudly. "I’m so proud and happy for you, Cassie! You should never doubt that he would accept it. You're the best." She gushed. She was happy every time Cassie got a huge story and would pass the test with beaming approval. Even though it happened very often, every single time made Andrea proudly happy.

Cassidy smiled shyly. "Thank you." She said in a low voice.

Andrea smiled, taking another bite of her huge sandwich. "I’m so glad that you didn’t say no to my invitation." She said.

Cassidy’s eyes snapped back up to hers and she smiled. "I’m glad too, Andy." She said. "I did not mean to hurt you."

Andrea reached over to cover her hand again. "I know," She said. "Though I wish you’d tell me why you’ve been avoiding me."

"It’s nothing, really." Cassidy said, covering Andrea’s hand with her other hand. She looked into the eyes of the woman she loved so much and said softly: "I really love you, Andy."

Andy sighed, feeling very keenly the warmth and softness of the hands enveloping hers. "I love you too, Cassie." She whispered.

Cassidy smiled, wanting so much to be able to kiss her lips. "I’m really glad you do, Andy." She said, taking her hands away and sitting back, her protective shield in place. "I wouldn’t know what to do without you."