Shane could taste Jenny’s fear.  It tempted her.  She stood up suddenly, jarring her chair backwards.  “I need to go,” she mumbled, “got things to do.”

“Ok,” Jenny smiled, felt tension leaving her, “see you tonight?”

“Yeah,” Shane gave her a casual wave goodbye and walked briskly out of The Planet.

“What was that all about?” Marina asked as she sat down again.

“Damned if I know,” Jenny shook her head.

Marina laughed, “dyke drama.”

“Yeah, I guess so.  She and Tina are coming to CAC tonight.”  Jenny offered up.

“Merde,” Marina sighed and rolled her eyes.  “Well, THAT will make for an interesting evening.”

Jenny nodded slowly, “Yes…hopefully.”

Marina gave her a quizzical look.  “Second thoughts?  We don’t have to….”

Jenny laid her hand lightly on Marina’s bare arm, struck again by the contrast of copper skin against white.  “Yes, we do, Marina.  It’s important.”

“Ma petite?”  Marina asked, not putting more into the question than needed be.

“I don’t know what it is.  But something is going to happen tonight.”  Jenny said in a pleading voice.

Marina’s eyes darkened as she scanned her lover’s face for some meaning behind her words, couldn’t see it, nodded and laid her warm hand over Jenny’s.  “Oui,” she said softly, “something always does.”

*~*~*~*~*

Bette woke with tension knotting her stomach, and it was still there late in the afternoon, when she’d shuffled the papers on her desk for the third or fourth time in the last hour and decided to go home early.  She needed the strength and security of Candace’s arms around her, reminding her once again that she didn’t need to control everything…just her part of everything.

Still, the Open House…Helena Peabody’s open house…felt like just one more thing spiraling out of control, beyond her reach.  But if this is what it took to get the Barnes exhibit funded, then she would jump through a few hoops with a smile pasted on her anxious face.  At least, Candace would be there to reassure her and yank her back by the collar if she got dangerously out of sorts.  She sighed her gratitude once more for this woman, the most unlikely of lovers, a working class dyke who anchored her upper class sensibilities and brought her back down to earth where the rest of humanity lived, worked, yearned, cried, and loved.  Love.  It was enough.  It HAD to be enough.