A hush fell over the room as soon as the door opened and her figure was silhouetted in the doorway. The only sound that could be heard was the thump as the door closed. All eyes were on her. It was understandable. She was a big woman, and she had not set foot in the place before. At the same time, everyone knew who she was, so the staring quickly stopped. She seemed surprised at that, as if she were used to much more attention. Quietly, a lane opened up in front of her, channeling her towards the bar. She wasn’t the kind of woman to refuse that kind of invitation.

As she settled down on one of the stools, a mug materialized in front of her. “Dis one’s on da house,” the bartender said curtly, but with an edge of politeness in her voice. The newcomer nodded and sipped. Beer. Not her favorite, but if it was free she’d take it. She used it as a cover to look around the place. She recognized more faces than she would have expected, and she had a hunch that if she followed several other sports she would know more of them. But she did recognize several of her fellow expatriates and a couple of her colleagues. More to the point, she recognized the composition of the couples and appreciated it. It did come as a surprise to her, though, that she couldn’t seem to find a single traditional couple.

“If you’re looking for what I think you’re looking for, ma’am, we don’t let their kind in here,” a young man commented from next to her. She laughed, a deep and hearty sound. It was perfect; he had even gotten the tone of voice down. If he hadn’t had a young man with dark hair kissing him between words, he would not have been out of place in a traditional straight bar.

“So... this is normal behavior around here, or did I just happen to walk in on a special night?” she asked him.

He thought about it for a moment. “Oh, no, ma’am, this isn’t what the place is like most of the time at all.” The pause was long enough for him to see the disappointed look on her face. “Most of the time, it’s a lot crazier. I think people are being a bit restrained to let you decide how much you like it here before they really let loose.”

The disappointment was replaced by a huge grin. “Then I think I like this place very, very much. I’m glad I was invited to come here.”

“And we’re honored that you came,” a tall blonde woman chipped in from her other side. “There aren’t enough of us who are open about this... just having you here is really a privilege. I’m just sorry you have to be here alone, but that’s the way the cookie crumbles sometimes, isn’t it?”

“I understand the rules. And I understand why the rules are the way they are. I saw what happened to Billie Jean. Though it’s not something that could happen to me, I wouldn’t want it to happen to anyone here because of me.”

The friendly stranger clapped her hands. “I’m impressed. First time here and you grasp something that it sometimes takes years to understand. But of course. You’ve been doing this for years. You’re the pioneer. Without your example, I don’t know if any of would ever have been able to be comfortable with who we are. I mean, we’ve all always known that there were gay people in sports, but until you came along, there was no one open about it that we could look up to. You’re really the godmother of this place. I just can’t believe it took this long for you to arrive. Would you give me a moment?” She turned to the bartender. “Temora, I don’t think she should have to pay for a drink at all when she’s here.”

“I don’t eith’a,” Temora agreed with respect in her voice.

“There, I’m back now. That was important business I had to take care of there. You understand, right?”

“I guess. So should we be formally introduced, or do you want to take care of it here and now?”

“Formality is a pointless waste of time. I’m Fannie Candel, miss-”

The woman put a hand up, interrupting Fannie. “Please. Just call me Martina.”