“A friend… and more. If you want it,” Bette said, and then corrected herself, looking into Tina’s eyes and swallowing. “If you want me.”

“I do.” Tina said, meeting Bette’s gaze.

They looked at each other a for a long moment and Bette realized how happy she was. The moment was interrupted by a phone ringing. Bette didn’t move and Tina asked, “Aren’t you going to get that?”

“Let it ring. The only person I want to speak to is right here. It’s probably just Alice, anyway.”

“Maybe she got herself in another scrape,” Tina suggested.

“I wouldn’t be surprised.” The phone ceased its appeal. “There, you see?” Bette shifted on the couch. “She’s probably called someone else.”

"Bette?"

"Yeah?"

"When you said that you didn’t want me to get the wrong idea… what did you mean?"

Bette thought this over for a moment. "I guess I didn’t want you to think I only wanted to get you over here to sleep with you. I wanted you to know that I respect you. You know, when we first met, and I was in the process of doing the walk of shame…"

"I remember," Tina interjected. "I don’t care about that. If I did, I wouldn’t be here now."

"Well, anyway. I know that this is a little new to you…"

"You mean, being with a woman? It seems to come naturally enough," Tina smiled.

"I just wanted to take things slowly. I want you to be totally comfortable with me."

Tina looked at Bette and shook her head. "I am. And I’m glad you invited me over tonight." Tina’s cheeks turned pink. "But you know, I have to say, there was something missing from dinner tonight."

"There was?" Bette frowned.

"Well, we didn’t have dessert," Tina said, moving her arm in a gesture toward the kitchen with a palm facing upward.

"That’s true, we didn’t. I have some ice cream…"

Tina gave a little shrug and looked at Bette intently. "I’m not too sure about that. What else is on the menu?"

Bette held her gaze and moved closer to Tina. "Just this," Bette whispered, bringing her lips to Tina’s own in a sweet kiss. Tina shifted a little on the couch and their noses bumped awkwardly.

Tina pulled back with a little giggle and rubbed her nose. “Sorry.”

“That’s okay. As with cooking, you see my technique needs a little work.”

“Not at all,” Tina countered. “Besides, in some cases quantity is more important than quality.”

“Well, they say practice makes perfect,” Bette said, leaning in to refine her technique.

THE END