On The Air

By Geonn Cannon

1 -

If anyone on the 1:40 PM ferry to Squire's Isle happened to have a shortwave radio, they might find themselves scanning the dial as they neared the dock of the tiny northwestern island. They would scan back and forth across the dial, getting only static and the odd burst of a French-speaking DJ for their troubles until, finally, a lone voice broke through loud and clear like a beam of sunlight on a cloudy day.

"I can see the first ferry of the afternoon through my little window here. Hello, to all you newcomers. Hello, to everyone coming home after a journey. For those meeting me for the first time, I am Nadine Butler, the Pixie of K-E-L-F AM 1220, and I am here with you for another three hours or so. We're taking requests right now, so if you're a tourist, give me a call at 232-KELF and I'll do my best to make your stay on our little island as memorable as possible. Coming up, we've got the Eagles, Jackson Browne and Fleetwood Mac. Stay tuned!"

The broadcast was coming from a non-descript two-story gray building hiding behind a row of tourist shops. The booth where Nadine Butler broadcast her show was blessed with a window that did indeed look across the street into the crystal blue glare of the harbor and gave her an eagle-eye view of each new arrival. She had a special introduction for each ferry that arrived during her show and was especially welcoming to tourists.

The booth itself was a nondescript closet, dominated by the semi-circular table that held the various odds and ends of broadcasting. A stack of CDs and tapes towered to Nadine's left and just over her right shoulder, a wide picture window looked out into the bullpen and the sea of cubicles KELF called its business offices. As Nadine finished her welcome message, she hit the button that would begin a pre-set block of commercials and turned her attention to the phone banks.

The button for Line Three had been flashing since the end of the last song, so she depressed it first. "This is Nadine Butler and you're on the air with the Pixie. Tourist or local?"

"Um... tourist. Is this really on the air?"

"Live on tape, honey," Nadine said. She rested her elbows on the table and leaned towards the microphone. It increased the volume of her voice and listeners had told her it sounded more intimate, like she was in the room with them. "What's your name?"

"Robert."

"And what can the Pixie play for you, Robert?"

"You got any Springsteen? *Born to Run*?"

She glanced to her left and saw a Bruce Springsteen Greatest Hits CD within easy reach. She stretched her arm out and plucked the CD off the rack, withdrawing the disc as she spoke into the microphone. "Robert, that is one of my all-time favorite Springsteen tunes and I *do* have it right here. I'm gonna play that for you the first chance I get. All right? Thanks for tuning in to the Elf! Have a great trip, okay?"

"All right."

She smiled and disconnected the call. She glanced at the clock to see how much time was left on the commercial before she moved her finger to the next flashing light. "You're on with the Pixie. Tourist or local?"

She answered the next three calls, got a request from each of them, and seeded the songs into her already-planned play list. She ran her finger down the row of song titles and screwed her lips into a frown. With this list, plus the commercials she was obligated to play during this hour, she was still going to run a little short.

She pulled the headphones from her ears and hurried to the door of the booth. She stuck her head into the bullpen and scanned until she spotted an older black man pushing a mail cart between the desks. Billy, their resident mail boy, janitor, jack-of-all-trades, was in the middle of handing out that day's memos. She whistled and he lifted his rheumy eyes to her.

She said, "I need just under three minutes."

He leaned against his mail cart and drummed his long fingers on the rail. His eyes danced back and forth across the carpet as if reading something written on the hardwood underneath before a smile burst forth from his thin lips. He pointed at her and proudly said, "*Gypsys, Tramps and Thieves*, two minutes and thirty-six seconds."

"Cher?" Nadine said.

He shrugged and gripped the mail cart's rail with both hands. "I like 'er. Nice voice."

Nadine held her hands out in surrender and said, "Then Cher it is. Thank you, Billy."

She returned to her seat just as an ad for Gail's Seafood Restaurant ended. She put the cans back over her ears and depressed the broadcast button with her pinky. "Gail's Seafood Shack, man... Talk about some good eatin'. If you haven't been there, it is just the greatest seafood you will ever eat. And to prove it to anyone out there who doubts their Pixie, I have a coupon awarding dinner for two to Gail's if you can answer one extremely easy trivia question. Trust me, with food this good, I'm all but giving this prize away. Who, in 1966, said his band was bigger than Jesus? Give me a call at 232-KELF with the right answer and you'll be eating very, very well tonight.

"Right now, though, I'm sending this one out to Robert, a newcomer to our fair shores. Robert, I hope you have a great time on Squire's Isle and you don't feel the urge to run." She snickered and said, "Yeah, I know how bad that was. This is the Boss, from 1975, *Born to Run* on K-E-L-F."

As the song started, she saw that the lines had all lit up once more. It was the typical reaction when she ran a contest, especially an easy one, so she ran her fingers over the three lights and pressed one at random. "Hi, KELF. You're on with the Pixie."

"Hey, this is Tony. I just came over on the ferry and I wondered if I could request a song...?"

"Sure thing, Tony! What do you wanna hear?"

"*Me and You and a Dog Named Boo*, by Lobo, I think...?"

"Oh, I adore you for requesting that, Tony. I've loved that song since I was a little girl, so... I'm going to give you a special prize. You're my tourist of the day! What that means is you can come by the station - we're just south of the ferry lanes, just ask if you can't find us - and pick up a coupon for two free ice cream cones from Sandy's Dee-lights. Sound good?"

"That sounds great!"

"If you're happy, I'm happy, Tony. I'll get that song on for you ASAP and be sure to come by and get your coupon before five."

"Okay! I'm making my way over to, uh, the, uh..."

"Sholeh Harbor for the whale-watching?"

"That's it!"

"Well, then, you're in for two treats today, Tony. I'll move your song up to make sure it plays on your way out there, all right?"

"All right!"

"Tony, I am going to send you away with good memories of Squire's Isle if it's the last thing I do. Keep it tuned to KELF and I'll get some bright red Georgia clay on your shoes."

"Well, all right."

She thanked him for calling and went on to Line Two. "KELF, you're talking to Nadine."

A woman meekly asked, "You have a winner for the trivia yet?"

"I don't! You wanna make a guess? Who said that his band was bigger than Jesus?"

"I *think* it was John Lennon..."

"That's right!" She hit a button that caused a noisemaker to sound. "Oh, no, there's confetti all over my booth! What's your name?"

"Sara."

"Well, Sara, are you a local or a tourist?"

"Born and raised here on the island."

"Well, that is fantastic! So you've been to Gail's before, I assume."

"I have."

"Good! You know what you're in for. Get something really good and think of me when you're eating, all right?"

"Okay!"

Nadine chuckled. "Okay, I'm going to send you to the secretary now. She'll get some information from you and then you can pick up the coupons anytime before five this evening. Sound good?"

"Sounds great!"

"Glad to hear it. Sara, who is hooking you up with a free dinner?"

"The Pixie," she said with a bit of laughter in her voice.

"That's right, your Pixie Godmother never lets her children go hungry. Keep listening to 1220 KELF and you have yourself a great dinner."

"All right."

"Bye-bye, Sara."

There were still two minutes left on the Boss, so she went ahead and answered Line Three. "KELF, this is the Pixie."

"You have a winner yet?"

"Ooh, sorry, we just got one."

"Ahh, nuts. Thanks anyway!"

"You got a song you want to hear?"

"*Norwegian Wood*, by the Beatles."

"Oh, no, you're a real Beatles fan, huh? You probably knew the answer right off."

"Yeah, I did."

"Aw, well, better luck next time! I promise you at least one more easy Beatles trivia sometime this week, okay?"

"I'll train my dialing finger."

"Don't give me *too* much information, honey," Nadine laughed. "I'll get your song on for you as soon as I can, all right?"

"Okay!"

She disconnected the call, saw all the lights were dim, and rolled her chair around to face the stack of CDs next to her. She ran her fingers down the spines and pulled discs of the Beatles and Lobo. As she was searching for Cher, there was a tap on the glass behind her. She turned and saw Miranda Powell standing in the bullpen. Nadine waved and Miranda motioned for her to come out. There wasn't enough time before the end of the song for a conference, so Nadine pointed at the CD and held up two fingers. Miranda nodded and crossed her arms to wait.

Nadine leaned forward and wondered what Miranda could want. She was the station manager, the 'messenger' they weren't supposed to kill when she gave bad news from the owner. She was mostly hands-off when it came to the talent, so it would have to be something of semi-importance to get her to interrupt a show. All Nadine could think of was there had been a complaint. "I said Jesus on the air," she muttered. "The Satanists must be demanding equal time."

When the song ended, she hit a switch to transfer the feed back to her mic. "Hey, everyone out there, be you tourist or native, whale-watcher or sight-seer, friend or foe. I'm Nadine Butler, the Pixie, and we have a winner for the dinner at Gail's." She hit the replay button and the call with Sara's voice began issuing from the tape deck.

She set the requested Lobo song to play as soon as the winning call ended and stood up. She hung her headphones on the edge of the desk and went to the door. "I've got three minutes and some change," she told Miranda. "What's up?"

"You're not in trouble," Miranda said as introduction.

"Uh-oh," Nadine said. She slumped against the door and crossed her arms. "Now I'm *really* worried. What's wrong?"

Miranda reluctantly said, "Hoagie... has a conflict this weekend."

"Oh, *God,*" Nadine groaned. "Can that man *ever* fulfill an obligation? What is it this ti--" She froze when she remembered the commercial they had been playing endlessly that week. "Oh, no. Not the fair. Please, Miranda, do not do this to me. Please!"

Miranda, to her credit, did look uneasy at making the request. She lifted her fingers from where they lay on her forearm and said, "I'm sorry, Nadine, but he can't host it this year. You're the best option for replacing him. You're the most popular DJ we have and you... I'm sorry, but you *are* single."

*Ah,* Nadine thought. *That old chestnut.* She held up her hands in surrender. "Is there any way I can say no without it affecting my job here?"

"Well, we won't fire you, if that's what you mean," Miranda said with a playful smile. "But you'd really be helping us out. Most of the people going to see Hoagie would prefer to see you, anyway. It wouldn't affect ticket sales; we'd probably get even more ticket sales because of the switch. You'd be saving the day, Dean."

*Oh, not the nickname,* Nadine thought. She closed her eyes and accepted that it was already a lost cause. She waved her hands and said, "All right, yeah. Fine," Nadine muttered. "But remember this the next time we talk about raises, all right?"

"You got it. Thank you, Nadine. You're the best." She pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and thrust it into Nadine's hands. "Since the fair is this weekend, I'm going to need you to announce the change as soon as possible."

"Make Hoagie do it during his show. Make him explain why he's backing out."

"Don't make Hoagie the bad guy, Dean."

"Stop calling me Dean," Nadine said. She snapped the paper away from Miranda and said, "This is the last time this quarter, all right? The last time I host one of these stupid galas, the last concert, the last last minute switch. Deal? From now on, when I have a weekend off..."

"It will actually be a weekend off," Miranda said. "I got it. You're a dear for putting up with it this time."

Nadine sighed and waved her off. She went back into her booth, reading over the copy as she sat down and replaced the headphones. She flipped a switch and tried not to sigh into the microphone. "That was Lobo with *Me and You and a Dog Named Boo,* and those wheat fields of St. Paul. Ahh, gotta love that song. Just makes you want to hop in the car and just keep driving. Don't try it here, though; can't drive too far on an island. Unless you're going in circles.

"Anyway, enough of my nonsense. Or maybe more of my nonsense. Because I just got handed a note," she waved the paper so it would be heard over the mic, "that says I am going to be the hostess with the most-est of this years Squire Days. That's right, this weekend's renaissance faire will be emceed by yours truly. I'll be out there, broadcasting live for most of the weekend. So why don't you come by and see me, okay? We'd love to see you all out there in your nice tights and big fluffy dresses. Coming up, we've still got the Eagles and a few more requests for those tourists, bless their pointy heads. Keep listening to your favorite Pixie on 1220 KELF AM."

She pulled the headphones away and glanced at the phone lines. Sure enough, almost thirty seconds after she went to commercial, Line Three lit up. She glanced through the glass, saw that Miranda had left and answered the call. "KELF, this is the Pixie."

"So it *is* you," a quiet voice said. "Not some... I don't know, lying body-snatcher or anything?"

Nadine winced. "Hi, Kate. Look, there was..."

"You're working this weekend? *All* weekend?"

"That's what it looks like," Nadine said. "Only a couple of hours each day, but... yeah, it might as well be all weekend. Ruins our plans, at any rate." She checked the counter. A minute and forty-five seconds left on the commercial. "I... don't really have time to have this argument..."

"It's not an argument," Kate assured her. "I just want to make sure I have all the information so we can have a fully-informed fight when we get home. So... you're working all weekend? And when you're not working, you'll probably be too tired to do anything else. That's the situation?"

"I know, I know. It was my idea, you cancelled a bunch of stuff to clear the weekend so we could go and now I'm reneging and..."

"Okay," Kate interrupted. "That's all I needed to know. Have a good rest of the show."

Kate hung up abruptly and Nadine resisted the urge to throttle her mic. She mimicked Miranda's voice, giving her a nasal quality the real woman didn't actually possess. "You *are* single. You *are* the most popular DJ here. You *are* the biggest pushover on staff." She could tell them that she was seeing someone and just leave it at that, ignore gender and the whole furor it would cause to know her significant other was a woman. But she'd seen enough snooping to know that her lover's identity wouldn't stay secret for long. It was easier to just say she was single... in theory, at least.

She sighed, pushed a lock of hair out from behind her glasses and hit the broadcast button. "Welcome back. You're still listening to KELF, I'm still Nadine Butler, and our songs still rock." She transferred directly to the next song and sat back in her chair. She looked at her watch and groaned.

Three more hours on the air.

More than enough time to brace herself for a fight with her girlfriend.

---

Nadine looped her scarf around her neck just after she started *The Load-Out* by Jackson Browne. A nice, good song for ending her show. Plus, when partnered with *Stay,* as it usually was, the song was long enough to give her time to get out and let Hoagie into the booth for his show. Joe "Hoagie" Hogan was a full foot taller than Nadine and probably more than a foot thicker. He wore jeans and flannel shirts on the air, his curly blonde hair hugging his head as if afraid of the fall it would take should he go bald. He shed his denim jacket and tossed it over the back of her chair.

She rounded the table and let him take her place in the nerve center. She bent down and opened the fridge that was tucked beneath the desk. As she searched for a can of Pepsi, she said, "Joseph."

"'Joseph'? What'd I do?" the big man said, actually looking offended behind his day's-worth of beard stubble.

"You cancelled the renaissance faire."

"Ooh," he said. He nodded and said, "Yep, I did."

"You know what this does to my schedule?"

He scoffed. "What schedule? Come on, Nadine, we both know you're the most popular DJ here. I'm just giving the people what they want."

Nadine sighed and popped open her can. "Popular or not, you owe me."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll find some way to pay you back."

Nadine squinted at him from behind her glasses. "It worries me, the way you said that..."

He waved her out and she slipped from the booth. He trimmed off the end of "Stay" and said, "Welcome, welcome, welcome, I am Joe Hogan, you can call me Hoagie. I'll be here with you until you're sick of me."

"Too late," Nadine muttered.

She walked across the bullpen, stopping at her desk only long enough to finish her soda and pick up her leather satchel. She crushed the can and slipped it into her coat pocket before looping her bag's handle around her head and went down the narrow staircase.

The building was staggered, with the second story looking down over the first. The receptionist was on the ground floor, separating the 'celebrities' of KELF Radio from the outside world by means of a huge circular desk. Nadine rounded the edge of this barricade with a waggle of her fingers to Sue, the secretary on duty.

"I loved your show today, Nadine," Sue said, as she did every day.

"Thank you, Sue. See you tomorrow."

As she stepped outside, a brisk wind blew off the harbor and hit her broadside in the face. She paused, body bent against the wind, and fumbled with the buttons of her jacket. The lank dark hair that had been mashed by headphones all day suddenly came to life, exploding around her head like a dervish. She turned her sneakers to the left and walked to her bike with her coat held shut with both hands.

By the time she undid the chain and threw her leg over the seat, the wind had died down enough for her to find her balance. As she rode towards Spring Street, she could see the line of cars in the ferry lanes, and wondered how many of the people waiting there had called in requests.

She turned onto Spring Street despite the chill in the air; it was nearly a straight shot to her apartment, but it took about five minutes longer than her alternate, winding route. The fewer turns she had to make, the more time she had to think. The more time she had to think, the easier the upcoming fight with Kate would go. An added bonus was that her route took her past the newspaper offices where Kate worked. As she sped by, she straightened her back and peered through the window. Kate's desk, near the back of the brightly-lit room, was already vacant.

Probably already at the apartment, stewing, picking her words carefully. Nadine sighed; there was no way around it. Work was work.

She'd met Kate three years earlier when she had been doing a fluff piece for the newspaper - Celebrities of Squire's Isle - and rather than interview the mayor, Nadine had gotten the request. Coming from a raven-haired beauty like Kate, it was a hard request to turn down. Their first interview had gone well and transformed into dinner. Dinner had gone even better and transformed into a night of sex.

They'd been together ever since, two relatively visible women in a small town, both still closeted and butting heads about it. Kate was firmly in the closet and willing to stay there as long as she could. Nadine was wishy-washy on the subject. On the one hand, she would love to be out, would love to tell people that she was in a relationship for a number of reasons. Not the least of which was the fact she could finally tell Miranda that she couldn't do things like the renaissance faire because she had plans with her girlfriend.

She rounded the corner to her apartment building and parked her bike in the courtyard. The Blair Idyll Apartments was shaped like a U, three sections surrounding a small courtyard with a neatly-tended garden. Nadine herself tended the flowers in return for a break on her rent. As she walked her bike up the concrete walkway, she took a moment to look over her little soldiers. They had all been covered for the winter and looked like they were already miserably resigned to their hibernation.

Her apartment was in the center section and she pushed her bike into the foyer. Nadine's apartment was on the ground floor, to the left of the entrance. She only had one neighbor on the ground floor, directly across from her door. A flight of stairs that started just outside her door led up to the second floor, which had an identical floor plan and an open-air landing.

When she and Kate had started sleeping together, they'd been forced to sneak around as much as possible so as not to alert their neighbors. When Nadine's upstairs neighbor moved out, they'd struck on a brilliant idea. Kate moved out of her postage-stamp apartment and moved into the postage-stamp apartment above Nadine's. That way, they effectively lived together without raising too many eyebrows or having to pretend they were secret agents.

She chained her bike to the stair railing and went into her apartment. "Kate?" she asked. She withdrew the crushed can from her pocket as she dumped her scarf and coat on a convenient chair. Her apartment wasn't messy, but it was small enough to look cluttered. A couch and two armchairs dominated the living room, facing the small TV that stood on a small oak end table. Her wall was filled with framed photographs; whale-watching trips, Kate on the beach, her mother circa 1960 in a tremendously ugly hat.

She tossed her crushed soda can into the recycling bin next to the couch and moved through the living room to the hallway.

The living room and combination kitchen/dining room made up the front half of the apartment. A bedroom, bathroom and den made up the other half and were connected to one another by a thin hall between them and the living room. The bathroom and den were both clear. Her bedroom, which had been bed-free since she moved in and stacked all her excess things there, was also empty. With the entire tiny apartment searched, she had determined Kate was upstairs. Which meant Kate was too mad to even argue right now.

Wonderful.

She dropped onto the couch, which doubled as her bed due to the cluttered bedroom, and found the remote amidst the clutter on the coffee table. She turned the TV on to the news, lay the remote on her stomach and let the impossibly pretty anchors talk her to sleep.

---

She woke to the feeling of hands on her feet. She didn't remember taking off her shoes - or laying down, for that matter - but the fingers working against her socks were so familiar that she kept her eyes closed for a few minutes. She sighed and pushed her black hair out of her face, realized her glasses were gone, and finally opened her eyes.

Kate was sitting on the other end of the couch with Nadine's feet on her lap, absently rubbing them as she watched the news. Nadine rubbed her eyes, looked at the TV and murmured, "What are you watching?"

"News. Late news. You've been asleep about an hour."

"Mm," Nadine said. She twisted to see the TV better, but kept her feet planted on her lover's lap. "Anything interesting in the world?"

"Fire in Seattle, fire department got it under control... nothing big."

Nadine nodded.

"Squire Days, huh?"

Nadine groaned.

"I thought Hoagie was going to do that."

"He said he would, but he had to back out. Family commitments, I guess. I didn't really ask."

Kate moved her hand to Nadine's ankles and lightly squeezed them. "You had commitments, too, you know... It was *your* idea."

"I know, hon." They'd had plans to drive to the mainland, see a couple of shows in Seattle, have a real date for a change. To actually walk down the street and hold hands with each other; they'd been looking forward to it for weeks. "I'm sorry. I know you had work, and I know you had to cancel just for this weekend. I'll make it up to you."

Kate's hands moved to the cuff of Nadine's jeans. "Really."

Nadine lifted the foot Kate wasn't holding and pressed her toes against Kate's chin. Kate laughed and tried to squirm away but managed only to lie down against the arm opposite Nadine's position. Nadine spread her legs apart and reached out and gripped Kate's arms. She pulled her lover forward and on top of her. Kate chuckled as they embraced and found each other's lips. Kate moaned as Nadine slid her fingers between the buttons of her blouse. "Just how do you plan to make it up to me?" Kate asked as she undid the button on Nadine's pants.

"How... um, w-what do you want?"

"Will you dress up for the faire? Will you dress up like a wench?"

"If it please milady," Nadine smirked.

Kate grinned and slipped her hand lower. Nadine gasped.

---

Afterward, naked and wrapped in each others arms and an old quilt, Nadine put her glasses back on and turned off the TV. Nadine had Kate's long auburn hair draped over her face and was dragging her fingers through the curled strands as she stared at the window. The blinds were drawn, thankfully blocking what they'd just done from the outside world. She tilted her head and said what she was thinking. "Maybe I should come out."

Kate didn't register shock, just kept her hazel eyes focused on the wall. "You don't think it would affect the show?"

Nadine shrugged. It was their most-quoted reason for not coming out; Nadine had to worry about people refusing to listen to a gay disc-jockey while Kate's fear was that the editor would suddenly be calling for the cancellation of her column. "I'd like to say no," Nadine finally said. "But truthfully? Hell..." She checked her watch and patted Kate's arm. "Dinner?"

"I ate before I came down." Kate kissed the back of Nadine's neck. "Sleep upstairs with me tonight."

"I have to get up early. I should stay down here."

"You sure?" Kate asked. "A warm bed instead of a couch... a warm me..." Her hand slipped around Nadine's waist and cupped her breast.

"I'd love to. But no, honey."

Kate got off the couch and gathered her clothes. Nadine watched as she dressed, eyes on her breasts until the shirt went on, shifting to her ass until the jeans were pulled up over it. Kate looked around and stuffed her underwear into the pockets of her jeans. She bent down over the couch and brushed her cheek across Nadine's. "Okay. See you tomorrow?"

"Mm-hmm." She stroked Kate's cheek and said, "This is our best fight ever."

Kate chuckled and brushed Nadine's hair. "Sleep tight."

Nadine waited for Kate to leave before she got off the couch. She rooted around in the bag next to her armchair until she found one of Kate's baseball jerseys. She was petite enough and Kate lanky enough that the jersey reached to mid-thigh on her, leaving her covered enough for comfort. She buttoned it as she walked into the kitchen in search of sustenance. She scrounged in the fridge for something to eat and found her supplies severely lacking.

She was about to call Kate and ask if the invitation was still open when there was a knock on the door. She paused, aware of how naked she was, aware of the underwear draped over the television set, and said, "Who is it?"

"It's Kate."

She opened the door and Kate stepped inside carrying a covered dish. She held it up and explained, "Last night's meat loaf. I looked in your fridge before you woke up; you don't have anything for dinner." She kissed Nadine's cheek and looked her over. "You look really hot in my jersey." She touched the white-and-blue hem and bit her bottom lip. "Don't stay up too late. Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night," Nadine said. She smiled and watched Kate go back upstairs. She kicked the door shut and carried her dinner into the kitchen. As she sliced off a piece and put it into the microwave, she smiled at Kate coming back downstairs for her. 'I knew you didn't have any food,' she'd said.

But still... they'd been together for three years. She expected to feel something other than sweetness and the occasional - okay, frequent - romps in the sack. If they eliminated the sex, what would they have? A good friendship. Leave the sex in, they'd have a *really* great friendship.

She snickered to herself and popped open the microwave. As she carried her food to the dining room table, she pushed her worries out of her mind. So what if all they had was a good friendship and really great sex? Relationships had been built on less, right?

*Besides,* she thought as she dug into her reheated dinner, *it's not like I have a ton of other prospects beating a path to my door...*

2 -

In the five years she'd been managing KELF, Miranda Powell had never been out the front door before eight. She remained in her office until Leah Nettles, the night DJ, arrived before she allowed herself to leave. Leah had never been late, but Miranda liked to be prepared for every eventuality. She didn't want to leave Hoagie alone to deal with a no-show if something ever did happen. Leah and Hoagie traded places in the booth at nine, and Leah usually showed up anywhere from ten to thirty minutes early.

When Leah arrived at 8:55, Miranda was still on the phone, scribbling on her blotter as the station owner, Thomas Dugan, barked in her ear. "Yes, sir," she said. She looked up as Leah appeared in her doorway, waved, and began gathering her things. "Yes, Mr. Dugan. I wanted to talk about... yes, sir. No, I wanted to talk about..."

She leaned back and rubbed her temple with two fingers. "Yes, Mr. Dugan." She put the phone down and cursed. She'd called him with a distinct purpose in mind, but somehow he had managed to shift the conversation to budget and advertising and the various little day to day things he liked to hear about. She was sure it made him feel like a part of the business, but it ate a hole in the end of her day, every day.

She jotted down a number on her desk blotter and pushed away from her desk. She grabbed her purse and jacket and headed out into the bullpen. Leah was leaning against one of the desks, watching Hoagie through the glass. Tonight, the disc-jockey was wearing a torn denim skirt, fishnet stockings and a bright purple blouse that Miranda thought would actually look nice under the proper blazer.

"Is he having a good show," Miranda asked as she joined Leah at the window.

"I don't know," Leah said. "I just like watching him. It's like the zoo."

Miranda smiled and caught a glimpse of their reflection in the glass. Like one of those magic eye pictures, it was hard to ignore once she'd noticed it. Standing next to Leah, she looked like a high school principal. She tightened the jacket around her flowered blouse and straightened her shoulder-length blonde hair where the phone and her coat had mussed it.

"I'm going to head out. Have a good show."

"Okay, Miss Powell." She headed for the stairs and nearly made it before Hoagie called after her to wait up.

She paused and he hurried to catch up, working his arm into the sleeve of his jacket. "I'll walk you out," he said. He followed her downstairs, through the dark lobby and out to the cold street. He waited as she tested the front doors to make sure they locked behind her. Leah could still come out, but no one would be able to get in until she showed up to let Willa and Simon in.

She turned and, as she suspected, Hoagie was still waiting for her. She forced a smile and rubbed her hands together. "Cold out here," she said.

Hoagie nodded. "Yep. You need a ride someplace, Miss Powell? My car is..."

"I'm fine, Hoagie. I'm... waiting for my ride. Should be here any second."

"You want I should wait with ya? You never know what could happen."

"It's December Harbor, not New York," Miranda said gently. She'd been born and raised on Manhattan; Squire's Isle was physically and metaphorically about as far away as you could get and still be in America. "I think I'll be okay. Thank you, though."

"No problem."

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and started to walk away, looking so dejected that she felt the need to offer the poor guy a little bit of consolation. "It was a great show tonight, Hoagie," she called after him.

He turned and smiled. "It sure was. Good night, Miss Powell."

She waited until he had disappeared around the corner before she started walking in the opposite direction. Hoagie was sweet, but she'd have to do something to dispel the unfortunate crush he seemed to be developing on her. She slipped the Walkman from her coat pocket and slipped the earpieces in as she walked into the parking garage. The radio was, naturally, already turned to KELF. Even if she didn't work there, it was really the only station that got any reception on the island.

"Good evening, owls and owlettes. This is Leah," the overnight DJ's sensuous voice informed her. "I'll be with you from now until the wee dark hours. So settle in, get comfortable and get ready to feel the day melt away. Because I promise, I will not play anything that will make you jump out of your shoes. Your pants, on the other hand..."

Miranda smirked and made a mental note to officially chide Leah the next day. Sexual innuendo was fine, so long as it was kept to a minimum. Lately Leah had been treading just a little too close to that fine line. Miranda unlocked her car door and slid behind the wheel of her car.

As Mick Jagger began his plaintive call to Angie, Miranda pulled from the parking garage with Nadine Butler on her mind. So what if Nadine didn't have plans for the weekend? It wasn't fair to just saddle her with this responsibility two days before the faire started. The fact she was saddled with it just because she was single, and that Nadine *knew* that was the reason, could potentially be a problem. She could sue them for discrimination.

Nadine never would sue, of course. But it gave Miranda an idea. She drummed her hands on the steering wheel and began to script the call she would make to Dugan first thing in the morning. This time, she was sure their conversation would go a lot differently.

---

Nadine took a shower after dinner and crawled under the covers in her pajamas. She picked up her work bag and dug around until she found the notes Miranda had left there during her show. The first note - "Think of medieval-type songs to play during the fair" - wasn't very helpful. She scribbled down *Scarborough Faire* by Simon and Garfunkel in the margin, thought for a moment and then shook her head. She'd think of more, she was sure. If not, Billy could lend a hand.

The other notes were just there to let her know some of the acts that would be performing at the faire. It offered the names, pronunciations and a brief overview of what they did so Nadine could talk about them on the air. Jugglers, swordfighters, jousting tournaments, belly dancers... She raised an eyebrow at that last one; maybe this assignment wouldn't be so bad after all.

The last post-it was a note that stockades would be employed during the faire should any 'dastardly evil-doers' need to be contained. Nadine smiled and said, "Please let me put Hoagie in a stock. Oh, please, oh, please." A sweep of headlights across her wall broke her concentration and she glanced at her watch. Nearly ten o'clock. She put aside the notes and dropped her satchel to the floor as she slipped down on the couch cushions.

Despite the cancellation of their trip to the mainland, she was actually starting to look forward to the faire. Maybe she could get Kate to dress up as a fair lady. It had been a while since they had played dress-up...

She reached up and turned off the reading lamp that curved over her couch and threw an arm over her eyes to protect against any more headlights sweeping past the living room window and waking her. She was asleep inside three minutes.

---

The next morning, Friday morning, was the day before the Squire Days festival officially began.

Nadine was up at eight and did a bit of research online. She managed to find only one more medieval-themed oldie - *Knights in White Satin* by the Moody Blues - and answered emails until ten. Two were from Kate - "I forgot to tell you twice, so I might as well email you while I'm thinking about it" sort of messages - and the rest were fan mail. She replied to as many as she could before it was time to go. She shut down the computer and headed upstairs to Kate's before she left. There was no answer to her knock, so she assumed Kate had already left for work.

She retrieved her bike and walked it to the street, getting a good start before she jumped onto the seat and headed across town. As she waited to cross Spring Street, a couple of people called out hello and waved. She gladly waved back and thanked them for listening. When the street was clear, she rode across and turned south, taking her away from the radio station. She had left early to pass the city park and see the Squire Days festival grounds before she had to spend the entire day there.

She parked her bike on the sidewalk and looked out over the sea of colorful tents, the wooden fences being erected and the three horse trailers already on-site. She had a horrific imagine of the park suddenly festooned with little presents from the knight's rides and made a mental note to bring a change of shoes.

The park looked small as you approached it, but it spread out the farther you went in. The KELF booth was usually somewhere near the front, but she couldn't see it anywhere. Satisfied, she climbed back onto her bike and rode the rest of the way to work. The roundabout trip had cost her almost a mile and her legs were burning. She was grateful for the burn, though; it was pretty much the only exercise she got, so she liked to do as much riding as possible.

She had to veer around a construction site at the corner next to KELF and waved her apology to the construction worker tearing up the sidewalk. He waved back and she made it the rest of the block without running into any concrete chunks. She chained her bike outside and went into the fantastic warmth of the station's lobby. "Whoo," she exhaled as she unwound her scarf. "I didn't notice how cold it was until I came in here! Morning, Sue."

Sue, the plump and perpetually smiling secretary, held up a sheaf of little yellow papers. "Morning, Miss Butler! Miss Powell wanted me to let you know about these memos. A bunch of people have been calling in about the renaissance faire. Turns out a lot of them decided to give it a chance just because you're going to be there. That must make you feel good, huh?"

Nadine took the memos and shrugged. "Kind of makes me feel bad for Hoagie," she admitted as she went through the memos.

"Oh. Oh, right," Sue said. Her smile faded and she said, "Boy, I hope he doesn't get offended..."

"Ah, screw him," Nadine said. She winked and said, "He left me in the lurch. I hope his feelings do get a little hurt."

Sue cackled and slapped her hands together. Nadine jumped at the sudden, sharp sound, but quickly recovered and laughed along with Sue. After a moment, Sue's laughs turned into coughs. Nadine moved to pat her on the back, but Sue waved her off. "No, no, you go on upstairs. You have to be famous!"

"Work, work, work," Nadine said. "See you in a couple of hours."

"Hear you before that," Sue said, pointing over her head with a giggle.

Nadine went upstairs and dumped her things on the desk. She made her way to the back of the bullpen to Miranda's office. Through the glass door, she could see Miranda was talking into an earpiece connected to her office phone and was about to leave. Miranda glanced up just as Nadine was about to turn around and waved her into the room. Nadine stepped inside and waited patiently for the call to end.

Miranda Powell's office was the biggest and most personal in the building, but geography had denied it a window. She corrected this architectural faux pas by taking photographs of the town from the roof, having them professionally combined into a poster-sized panorama and hanging the picture behind her desk. In a lighted frame, the effect was surprisingly effective.

The rest of the office was spartan to the extreme; a desk, two chairs for visitors and a couch next to the door. Someone had brought her a plastic plant when she was promoted, but Nadine swore the fake leaves were drooping and near-death despite their artifice. She waited by the door until Miranda finished her call and motioned at one of the seats. "Morning, Nadine."

"Hi, Miranda. What's up?"

"I talked to Thomas Dugan this morning."

Nadine tensed. "The station manager?"

"The very same," Nadine said. "I told him about the Squire Days situation; how Hoagie and I kind of left you in the lurch just because you were single."

"It wasn't *entirely* because of that, was it?" Nadine asked.

"No, the fact that you are our biggest celebrity did play a pretty big part. But you and I both know that the only reason I gave in to Hoagie so quickly is because you're single and you probably wouldn't have plans."

"Really?"

Miranda shrugged and leaned forward. "The fact is, it could look like discrimination. You *could* sue us."

Nadine sighed. "I would never do that. I might grumble and--"

"No, you don't understand," Miranda said. "You could sue us. I pointed that out to Mr. Dugan, along with the fact you often get saddled with crappy assignments, and he finally agreed that it wasn't fair. So, in order to appease you, you'll be getting paid time and a half for the faire."

Nadine blinked. The Dugan family owned most of December Harbor and half the island, but they were renowned for having some of the tightest pockets to go along with their wealth. Offering time and a half was unheard of. "Wow. Thanks, Miranda."

"I'm not done," Miranda said with a perfectly evil smile. "I pointed out this was an ongoing thing. We get a job no one else wants, it generally goes to you. I pointed out that you're definitely the voice of the station, if not the face of it. Once again, he eventually agreed that you deserve a raise."

"A raise?" Nadine said. She was smiling now, leaning forward slightly. "That's... that's wonderful."

"I don't have the exact numbers yet; we're still haggling on that part. But I thought you should know it was in the works."

"Yes, thank you. You didn't have to."

"Consider it a thank you for being our sacrificial lamb for everything we ask of you. And hey, if it makes you smile a little bit at the faire, all the better."

Nadine laughed. "You have my word."

She slipped out of the office and went back to her neglected desk. She took the memos Sue had given her and thumbed through them again. Looking forward to seeing you, I wasn't going to go but now I'm already buying the tickets, so on and so forth. She smiled, still amazed after all this time, that she actually counted as a celebrity in this town. An idea sparked and she looked around until she found Billy.

He was emptying a trash can nearby and she crossed the bullpen to meet him halfway. "Hey, Billy, I might need your help a little more than usual today. Are you going to be sticking around?"

"Mm-hmm, yep."

Nadine patted his arm and thanked him as she headed to the booth. She loved Billy; he had been homeless when they hired him, living outside the station and asking for money for lunch. When Nadine actually saw him go into a restaurant and use the money for lunch - with a tall cold glass of milk instead of any of the various liquors the restaurant offered - she struck up a conversation.

He had recognized her voice immediately. He loved radio, and it wasn't long before he revealed his most shocking gift; he could give the exact time, to the second, of any song she asked him. After a few test runs, she decided to just take him at his word. She had convinced Miranda to hire him as the station's custodian on a freelance, day-to-day basis. He insisted they pay him only enough to buy himself dinner and lunch; he refused to get rich on a job he hadn't earned. As long as he was just working for food, it was better than begging.

He'd been a constant at the station ever since, keeping the place tidy and helping the DJs arrange their schedule with the most amount of music without cutting off any commercials. Miranda had tried to give him a raise on several occasions, at least up to minimum wage, but he refused. One day Miranda had 'slipped up' and given him a fifty dollar bill instead of a five. Billy hadn't come into work for a week after that and refused to return until they took the money back.

So he remained, working for his lunch and dinner, a storehouse of knowledge when it came to classic rock time limits, and Nadine was happy to take the credit for discovering him.

In the booth, Simon Clark and Willa Lamb were finishing up their morning show. She could see the shoulder of someone sitting across from them, but didn't bother trying to see who it was. She waited patiently for them to play their farewell music, a medley of the word "Good-bye" from various songs, and opened the door.

As she stepped inside, she smiled to Willa and Simon... and saw Kate rising from the interview seat. She tried to conceal her surprise but failed miserably. "Oh," Willa said as she looked from one woman to the other. "I was going to introduce you two, but... do you already know each other?"

"Uh-huh," Nadine said. She smiled and said, "Kate is, uh, is my neighbor. Who didn't mention she was doing the show this morning."

Kate shrugged and said, "It was kind of a last minute thing. They wanted to talk to me about that article I did on pollution and the orcas in the Strait." She shrugged and unwound herself from the wires they always draped their guests with. "While I have you here, are you free for dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, always," Nadine said. It was a battle to keep from looking at Willa and Scott for their reaction to the request. *It only sounds like a date because I *know* it's a date. They probably think it's totally innocent...*

"Okay. See you at home."

"See you at home," Nadine said. She watched Kate leave and exchanged places with Willa. Simon pushed his own chair into the corner - they had no other two-person teams - and waved to her as he headed for the door.

"Have a good show," Willa said as she closed the door behind herself.

"Thanks," Nadine said. She took her seat, rearranged a few of the things on the desktop and glanced at the clock before she switched on the mic. "Happy mid-morning, almost afternoon to all you lovely people in December Harbor and everyone across Squire's Isle. I am Nadine Butler, the Pixie, and I will be here until five this afternoon. Seems so far away, doesn't it? But I am here to take a little bit of the sting away because I am doing something special today.

"When I walked into the station, the secretary showed me all of these calls from people who were going to the Squire Days festival just to see me. That really touches my heart, truly, so... I'm going to make you guys really happy." She picked up a random piece of paper and crumpled it next to the mic. "That was my play list for today and I am throwing it out. Because all day today, I am going to be taking your requests. Give me a call, 232-KELF, tell me what you want to hear because you are taking over the radio station."

She scanned the actual play list and said, "For now, I'm going to be playing some of my favorites while I'm gathering up your requests. We've got Stevie Nicks coming up, some Jim Croce and lots more that depends on you guys. Let me know what you want to hear." She switched over to the CD and pulled off her headphones. She knew without looking that Miranda was standing outside the window watching her.

She stood up without looking and opened the booth. Sure enough, Miranda was standing right there with arms crossed. "All requests?"

"Billy will help me make sure we have time for all the commercials. We'll be fine. You worry too much, Miranda."

Miranda huffed and glanced over her shoulder. "You have to do this to me right after I tease you about a raise."

"Teach you to tease a girl," Nadine grinned.

Miranda blushed and said, "All right, fine. All requests. Why not." She motioned at the booth and said, "Go! Take some requests. I'll accept all-request, but I won't allow dead air."

Nadine saluted, only half-mockingly, and went back to her seat. She hit Line One. "This is the Pixie on KELF, what can I play for you?"

---

Miranda paused and watched as Nadine resumed her post. She loved the fact that the DJ faced away from the window; she would hate to explain how often she'd found herself standing, staring at Nadine's back and just... staring. She just loved to watch the woman work, loved how she leaned into the mic to make her voice deeper and more intimate.

"Teach you to tease a girl," she muttered. "Sheesh. Like I don't have enough problems..."

---

Billy came into the booth two or three times before he finally accepted Nadine's invitation to sit across from her. As she took requests, she wrote the titles and artist on a piece of paper. When she had a nice, long list, she would hand it to Billy and he would write the play times in pen next to the artist name. His tongue poked from his mouth as he then re-listed them in blocks of eight to ten minutes and handed the paper back to Nadine.

She, meanwhile, kept taking requests and putting notations next to the song title to remember who had requested the song. She waited until *Guitar Man* ended and went back on the air. "This is KELF, I am the Pixie and the radio station is at your mercy this afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. That was Bread with *Guitar Man* for Erin. Hope you enjoyed that, Erin. For now, we're going to take a little pause for a commercial break and we'll be right back with more of your requests. Hang tight."

She sent it to commercial and said, "Billy, you've been a godsend today."

"I aim to please, Miss Butler," he said. He kept his eyes down and fiddled with the tip of his pen.

"I'm just telling you so you won't fight when Miranda tries to pay you tonight."

He shook his head. "I don't need nothing extra. Just..."

"Food money, right," she said. "You just want what's fair. Well, I wouldn't have been able to do this today without your help. You went above and beyond what you were hired for and we're going to pay you appropriately. It's only fair. All right?"

He finally nodded his head - a quick up-and-down bob - and she smiled. "Good. Now..." She was distracted by movement in the glass, just visible from her periphery. She turned and saw Kate standing in the bullpen, waving through the glass.

"She was here this morning," Billy said. "Willa and Simon interviewed her."

"Yep, they did," Nadine murmured. She checked the counter on the commercial break and went quickly to the door. "Hey, hon... Kate." She glanced around to see if anyone had heard her slip. "What's up?"

Kate held up a couple of bags. "Since I was in the neighborhood, I thought I'd drop in and see if you wanted to have lunch in your booth."

"It's kind of cramped in there, with Billy. And it's hectic today..."

Kate smiled. "I heard. All requests?"

Nadine shrugged and smiled. "Thank you for the offer, though. It was really sweet."

"I do what I can. Well, you might as well, take your sandwich." She handed the bag over and said, "So I'll see you tonight."

Nadine nodded and watched Kate leave for the second time that day. She glanced towards Miranda's office and saw the manager watching her. Miranda nodded at Kate's back. "Our guests usually don't come back until at least a day has passed. Who was that?"

"Kate Price. She works at the *Register.*"

"Right," Miranda nodded. She glanced at the booth and said, "I think your commercial is about to end."

Nadine gasped and ran back to her station. She looked out the window as she slipped her headphones back on. "Hey, welcome back. How were those commercials? You going to buy any of that stuff? Who knows, right?" She looked towards the window and saw the familiar green-and-white bulk sliding through the water. "Well, I can see the afternoon ferry coming in right now. All of you tourists need to know that K-E-L-F and the Pixie are having a very special show right now..."

---

"Okay, everyone, it's almost that time. My wrist is sore from keeping track of all your requests, so I think tomorrow we'll be going back to the old-fashioned way, if you don't mind. My thanks to my time-keeper, Billy, my thanks to everyone who called in to make sure we didn't have dead air and my thanks to everyone who listened today. Be sure to tune in tomorrow; I'll be lonesome if you don't. Good-bye, everybody."

She escorted Billy from the booth and stepped aside to let Hoagie in. "An all-request show?" he asked as he headed for the seat.

"It was to thank people for liking me better than you," she said.

He scoffed and said, "Sure, Pixie, sure."

She stuck her tongue out at him and went to her desk to retrieve her things. As she bundled up against the cold, she saw Miranda leave her office and hand Billy an envelope. She thanked him for his help, made sure he would actually take the money, and then went to Nadine's desk. "Were you planning to dress up for the faire?"

"Do I have to?"

"No."

"Then definitely not," Nadine said. "I might wear something fancier than my jeans and sweatshirt, but otherwise..."

"All right. Hoagie was going to go the full court jester route. Tights, jingle-bell hat, pointed shoes... the whole bit."

Nadine cringed. "Another reason to thank our lucky stars that I took over for him."

Miranda snickered and said, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow...?"

"I'll be at the faire. Unofficially."

"In costume?"

"You'll just have to wait and see!" She winked and went back to her office.

Nadine pictured Miranda wearing a wench costume and decided she would make a very nice wench, if she so desired. She chuckled and slipped the strap of her bag over her head. She looked around for Billy and saw that he was already back to work cleaning desks. "Thank you for your help today, Billy."

"Happy to lend a hand."

She headed out, said good-bye to Sue as she passed the desk, and walked out into the cold.

---

She expected it when she got home, she just didn't expect the ferocity of it.

As soon as she opened her front door, Kate was on her. She managed to kick the door shut and glanced at the windows to make sure the blinds were drawn as she was pushed towards the couch. She sat down heavily and Kate's hands went to her blouse. Nadine leaned back and let herself be undressed. "How come you were at the station today?" she asked as her jeans were unbuttoned.

"Wanted to see you," Kate said.

Nadine lifted her hips and Kate dragged her jeans down. She kicked them aside and closed her eyes as Kate's hands brushed her naked thighs. "Just to... spend time with me?"

"Yeah," Kate said. She occupied her tongue for a bit without speaking and after a moment said, "Why?"

"Hum?"

"Why'd you ask?"

"Oh." Nadine cleared her throat. "I was just wondering."

Well," Kate said. She turned her head and kissed the inside of Nadine's thigh. "To be honest, I kind of wanted to christen your booth."

Nadine laughed, a wild, warbling sound due to what Kate was doing between her legs. "I think... you're going to have to give up on that dream, babe."

"A girl needs fantasies," Kate said.

She didn't talk for a long time after that.

She did spell a few words with the tip of her tongue, however.

---

Nadine took a shower when they finished and came out to find Kate had left. She heard light footfalls in the apartment upstairs and put her glasses back on. "Guess the date is over," she muttered. She sat on the couch, wrapped in her towel, and turned on the TV. She pulled a notebook off the coffee table, found a pen that worked and began scribbling down notes for banter between songs in the morning.

"Fair days to all... these and thous will probably be necessary..." She tapped her chin with the tip of her pencil, thought for a moment and went back to writing.

---

A few blocks away from Nadine's apartment, Miranda lived in the elite gated community of Sandpiper Condos. The condo was really a small living room ringed by all the other rooms, none of them very large. But the truth was, no one lived in Sandpiper for the accommodations. They came for the security of the six-foot stone wall around the property. Even thought break-ins were relatively unheard of on Squire's Isle, she was still a product of an island called Manhattan and the stone wall had been *the* selling point for her.

Miranda had arrived home and gone straight to the bedroom. She undressed for bed in the light of a single lamp and pulled a folded pair of pajamas from the dresser drawer. When she turned around, the outfit she planned to wear in the morning caught her eye. She hadn't had any problem with the idea of Hoagie seeing her in it - other than the jokes she was sure to have been subjected to - but something about Nadine seeing her gave her pause.

It was silly, she finally decided as she finished putting on her pajamas. If anything, Nadine would be even better than Hoagie. There wouldn't be any jokes or inappropriate comments... But still... it was awfully low-cut.

"Like she'll even be looking at your breasts," Miranda thought. She climbed under the covers and turned off the lamp. As she stared at the darkness of her bedroom ceiling, she thought back to that lovely dark-haired woman she'd seen Nadine talking to. The reporter from Willa and Simon's show, Kate... Prince? There was something about the way they had been standing together, their body language with one another.

She shook her head and tried to dispel the images brewing there. Nadine and the reporter were just friends, and that was all. Ever since she realized her attraction to women, she'd been seeing lesbian relationships everywhere. If half the women she suspected were actually gay, she'd be very concerned for the fate of humanity.

She pulled one of the pillows out from under her head and smothered her face with it. Nadine was straight, her friend the reporter was straight, every damn woman on the island was straight.

She relaxed her grip on the pillow and reached down to the waistband of her pajama pants. *Still,* she thought. *A little wishful thinking never hurt anyone...* She bit her bottom lip and pushed her hand lower. She touched herself through her panties and, after a momentary debate about whether it was tacky to masturbate about someone who worked for you, turned off the lamp to sin in private.

Feedback: Comments and constructive criticism will be most welcome at neil_j_miser@yahoo.com

2 -

In the five years she'd been managing KELF, Miranda Powell had never been out the front door before eight. She remained in her office until Leah Nettles, the night DJ, arrived before she allowed herself to leave. Leah had never been late, but Miranda liked to be prepared for every eventuality. She didn't want to leave Hoagie alone to deal with a no-show if something ever did happen. Leah and Hoagie traded places in the booth at nine, and Leah usually showed up anywhere from ten to thirty minutes early.

When Leah arrived at 8:55, Miranda was still on the phone, scribbling on her blotter as the station owner, Thomas Dugan, barked in her ear. "Yes, sir," she said. She looked up as Leah appeared in her doorway, waved, and began gathering her things. "Yes, Mr. Dugan. I wanted to talk about... yes, sir. No, I wanted to talk about..."

She leaned back and rubbed her temple with two fingers. "Yes, Mr. Dugan." She put the phone down and cursed. She'd called him with a distinct purpose in mind, but somehow he had managed to shift the conversation to budget and advertising and the various little day to day things he liked to hear about. She was sure it made him feel like a part of the business, but it ate a hole in the end of her day, every day.

She jotted down a number on her desk blotter and pushed away from her desk. She grabbed her purse and jacket and headed out into the bullpen. Leah was leaning against one of the desks, watching Hoagie through the glass. Tonight, the disc-jockey was wearing a torn denim skirt, fishnet stockings and a bright purple blouse that Miranda thought would actually look nice under the proper blazer.

"Is he having a good show," Miranda asked as she joined Leah at the window.

"I don't know," Leah said. "I just like watching him. It's like the zoo."

Miranda smiled and caught a glimpse of their reflection in the glass. Like one of those magic eye pictures, it was hard to ignore once she'd noticed it. Standing next to Leah, she looked like a high school principal. She tightened the jacket around her flowered blouse and straightened her shoulder-length blonde hair where the phone and her coat had mussed it.

"I'm going to head out. Have a good show."

"Okay, Miss Powell." She headed for the stairs and nearly made it before Hoagie called after her to wait up.

She paused and he hurried to catch up, working his arm into the sleeve of his jacket. "I'll walk you out," he said. He followed her downstairs, through the dark lobby and out to the cold street. He waited as she tested the front doors to make sure they locked behind her. Leah could still come out, but no one would be able to get in until she showed up to let Willa and Simon in.

She turned and, as she suspected, Hoagie was still waiting for her. She forced a smile and rubbed her hands together. "Cold out here," she said.

Hoagie nodded. "Yep. You need a ride someplace, Miss Powell? My car is..."

"I'm fine, Hoagie. I'm... waiting for my ride. Should be here any second."

"You want I should wait with ya? You never know what could happen."

"It's December Harbor, not New York," Miranda said gently. She'd been born and raised on Manhattan; Squire's Isle was physically and metaphorically about as far away as you could get and still be in America. "I think I'll be okay. Thank you, though."

"No problem."

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and started to walk away, looking so dejected that she felt the need to offer the poor guy a little bit of consolation. "It was a great show tonight, Hoagie," she called after him.

He turned and smiled. "It sure was. Good night, Miss Powell."

She waited until he had disappeared around the corner before she started walking in the opposite direction. Hoagie was sweet, but she'd have to do something to dispel the unfortunate crush he seemed to be developing on her. She slipped the Walkman from her coat pocket and slipped the earpieces in as she walked into the parking garage. The radio was, naturally, already turned to KELF. Even if she didn't work there, it was really the only station that got any reception on the island.

"Good evening, owls and owlettes. This is Leah," the overnight DJ's sensuous voice informed her. "I'll be with you from now until the wee dark hours. So settle in, get comfortable and get ready to feel the day melt away. Because I promise, I will not play anything that will make you jump out of your shoes. Your pants, on the other hand..."

Miranda smirked and made a mental note to officially chide Leah the next day. Sexual innuendo was fine, so long as it was kept to a minimum. Lately Leah had been treading just a little too close to that fine line. Miranda unlocked her car door and slid behind the wheel of her car.

As Mick Jagger began his plaintive call to Angie, Miranda pulled from the parking garage with Nadine Butler on her mind. So what if Nadine didn't have plans for the weekend? It wasn't fair to just saddle her with this responsibility two days before the faire started. The fact she was saddled with it just because she was single, and that Nadine *knew* that was the reason, could potentially be a problem. She could sue them for discrimination.

Nadine never would sue, of course. But it gave Miranda an idea. She drummed her hands on the steering wheel and began to script the call she would make to Dugan first thing in the morning. This time, she was sure their conversation would go a lot differently.

---

Nadine took a shower after dinner and crawled under the covers in her pajamas. She picked up her work bag and dug around until she found the notes Miranda had left there during her show. The first note - "Think of medieval-type songs to play during the fair" - wasn't very helpful. She scribbled down *Scarborough Faire* by Simon and Garfunkel in the margin, thought for a moment and then shook her head. She'd think of more, she was sure. If not, Billy could lend a hand.

The other notes were just there to let her know some of the acts that would be performing at the faire. It offered the names, pronunciations and a brief overview of what they did so Nadine could talk about them on the air. Jugglers, swordfighters, jousting tournaments, belly dancers... She raised an eyebrow at that last one; maybe this assignment wouldn't be so bad after all.

The last post-it was a note that stockades would be employed during the faire should any 'dastardly evil-doers' need to be contained. Nadine smiled and said, "Please let me put Hoagie in a stock. Oh, please, oh, please." A sweep of headlights across her wall broke her concentration and she glanced at her watch. Nearly ten o'clock. She put aside the notes and dropped her satchel to the floor as she slipped down on the couch cushions.

Despite the cancellation of their trip to the mainland, she was actually starting to look forward to the faire. Maybe she could get Kate to dress up as a fair lady. It had been a while since they had played dress-up...

She reached up and turned off the reading lamp that curved over her couch and threw an arm over her eyes to protect against any more headlights sweeping past the living room window and waking her. She was asleep inside three minutes.

---

The next morning, Friday morning, was the day before the Squire Days festival officially began.

Nadine was up at eight and did a bit of research online. She managed to find only one more medieval-themed oldie - *Knights in White Satin* by the Moody Blues - and answered emails until ten. Two were from Kate - "I forgot to tell you twice, so I might as well email you while I'm thinking about it" sort of messages - and the rest were fan mail. She replied to as many as she could before it was time to go. She shut down the computer and headed upstairs to Kate's before she left. There was no answer to her knock, so she assumed Kate had already left for work.

She retrieved her bike and walked it to the street, getting a good start before she jumped onto the seat and headed across town. As she waited to cross Spring Street, a couple of people called out hello and waved. She gladly waved back and thanked them for listening. When the street was clear, she rode across and turned south, taking her away from the radio station. She had left early to pass the city park and see the Squire Days festival grounds before she had to spend the entire day there.

She parked her bike on the sidewalk and looked out over the sea of colorful tents, the wooden fences being erected and the three horse trailers already on-site. She had a horrific imagine of the park suddenly festooned with little presents from the knight's rides and made a mental note to bring a change of shoes.

The park looked small as you approached it, but it spread out the farther you went in. The KELF booth was usually somewhere near the front, but she couldn't see it anywhere. Satisfied, she climbed back onto her bike and rode the rest of the way to work. The roundabout trip had cost her almost a mile and her legs were burning. She was grateful for the burn, though; it was pretty much the only exercise she got, so she liked to do as much riding as possible.

She had to veer around a construction site at the corner next to KELF and waved her apology to the construction worker tearing up the sidewalk. He waved back and she made it the rest of the block without running into any concrete chunks. She chained her bike outside and went into the fantastic warmth of the station's lobby. "Whoo," she exhaled as she unwound her scarf. "I didn't notice how cold it was until I came in here! Morning, Sue."

Sue, the plump and perpetually smiling secretary, held up a sheaf of little yellow papers. "Morning, Miss Butler! Miss Powell wanted me to let you know about these memos. A bunch of people have been calling in about the renaissance faire. Turns out a lot of them decided to give it a chance just because you're going to be there. That must make you feel good, huh?"

Nadine took the memos and shrugged. "Kind of makes me feel bad for Hoagie," she admitted as she went through the memos.

"Oh. Oh, right," Sue said. Her smile faded and she said, "Boy, I hope he doesn't get offended..."

"Ah, screw him," Nadine said. She winked and said, "He left me in the lurch. I hope his feelings do get a little hurt."

Sue cackled and slapped her hands together. Nadine jumped at the sudden, sharp sound, but quickly recovered and laughed along with Sue. After a moment, Sue's laughs turned into coughs. Nadine moved to pat her on the back, but Sue waved her off. "No, no, you go on upstairs. You have to be famous!"

"Work, work, work," Nadine said. "See you in a couple of hours."

"Hear you before that," Sue said, pointing over her head with a giggle.

Nadine went upstairs and dumped her things on the desk. She made her way to the back of the bullpen to Miranda's office. Through the glass door, she could see Miranda was talking into an earpiece connected to her office phone and was about to leave. Miranda glanced up just as Nadine was about to turn around and waved her into the room. Nadine stepped inside and waited patiently for the call to end.

Miranda Powell's office was the biggest and most personal in the building, but geography had denied it a window. She corrected this architectural faux pas by taking photographs of the town from the roof, having them professionally combined into a poster-sized panorama and hanging the picture behind her desk. In a lighted frame, the effect was surprisingly effective.

The rest of the office was spartan to the extreme; a desk, two chairs for visitors and a couch next to the door. Someone had brought her a plastic plant when she was promoted, but Nadine swore the fake leaves were drooping and near-death despite their artifice. She waited by the door until Miranda finished her call and motioned at one of the seats. "Morning, Nadine."

"Hi, Miranda. What's up?"

"I talked to Thomas Dugan this morning."

Nadine tensed. "The station manager?"

"The very same," Nadine said. "I told him about the Squire Days situation; how Hoagie and I kind of left you in the lurch just because you were single."

"It wasn't *entirely* because of that, was it?" Nadine asked.

"No, the fact that you are our biggest celebrity did play a pretty big part. But you and I both know that the only reason I gave in to Hoagie so quickly is because you're single and you probably wouldn't have plans."

"Really?"

Miranda shrugged and leaned forward. "The fact is, it could look like discrimination. You *could* sue us."

Nadine sighed. "I would never do that. I might grumble and--"

"No, you don't understand," Miranda said. "You could sue us. I pointed that out to Mr. Dugan, along with the fact you often get saddled with crappy assignments, and he finally agreed that it wasn't fair. So, in order to appease you, you'll be getting paid time and a half for the faire."

Nadine blinked. The Dugan family owned most of December Harbor and half the island, but they were renowned for having some of the tightest pockets to go along with their wealth. Offering time and a half was unheard of. "Wow. Thanks, Miranda."

"I'm not done," Miranda said with a perfectly evil smile. "I pointed out this was an ongoing thing. We get a job no one else wants, it generally goes to you. I pointed out that you're definitely the voice of the station, if not the face of it. Once again, he eventually agreed that you deserve a raise."

"A raise?" Nadine said. She was smiling now, leaning forward slightly. "That's... that's wonderful."

"I don't have the exact numbers yet; we're still haggling on that part. But I thought you should know it was in the works."

"Yes, thank you. You didn't have to."

"Consider it a thank you for being our sacrificial lamb for everything we ask of you. And hey, if it makes you smile a little bit at the faire, all the better."

Nadine laughed. "You have my word."

She slipped out of the office and went back to her neglected desk. She took the memos Sue had given her and thumbed through them again. Looking forward to seeing you, I wasn't going to go but now I'm already buying the tickets, so on and so forth. She smiled, still amazed after all this time, that she actually counted as a celebrity in this town. An idea sparked and she looked around until she found Billy.

He was emptying a trash can nearby and she crossed the bullpen to meet him halfway. "Hey, Billy, I might need your help a little more than usual today. Are you going to be sticking around?"

"Mm-hmm, yep."

Nadine patted his arm and thanked him as she headed to the booth. She loved Billy; he had been homeless when they hired him, living outside the station and asking for money for lunch. When Nadine actually saw him go into a restaurant and use the money for lunch - with a tall cold glass of milk instead of any of the various liquors the restaurant offered - she struck up a conversation.

He had recognized her voice immediately. He loved radio, and it wasn't long before he revealed his most shocking gift; he could give the exact time, to the second, of any song she asked him. After a few test runs, she decided to just take him at his word. She had convinced Miranda to hire him as the station's custodian on a freelance, day-to-day basis. He insisted they pay him only enough to buy himself dinner and lunch; he refused to get rich on a job he hadn't earned. As long as he was just working for food, it was better than begging.

He'd been a constant at the station ever since, keeping the place tidy and helping the DJs arrange their schedule with the most amount of music without cutting off any commercials. Miranda had tried to give him a raise on several occasions, at least up to minimum wage, but he refused. One day Miranda had 'slipped up' and given him a fifty dollar bill instead of a five. Billy hadn't come into work for a week after that and refused to return until they took the money back.

So he remained, working for his lunch and dinner, a storehouse of knowledge when it came to classic rock time limits, and Nadine was happy to take the credit for discovering him.

In the booth, Simon Clark and Willa Lamb were finishing up their morning show. She could see the shoulder of someone sitting across from them, but didn't bother trying to see who it was. She waited patiently for them to play their farewell music, a medley of the word "Good-bye" from various songs, and opened the door.

As she stepped inside, she smiled to Willa and Simon... and saw Kate rising from the interview seat. She tried to conceal her surprise but failed miserably. "Oh," Willa said as she looked from one woman to the other. "I was going to introduce you two, but... do you already know each other?"

"Uh-huh," Nadine said. She smiled and said, "Kate is, uh, is my neighbor. Who didn't mention she was doing the show this morning."

Kate shrugged and said, "It was kind of a last minute thing. They wanted to talk to me about that article I did on pollution and the orcas in the Strait." She shrugged and unwound herself from the wires they always draped their guests with. "While I have you here, are you free for dinner tonight?"

"Yeah, always," Nadine said. It was a battle to keep from looking at Willa and Scott for their reaction to the request. *It only sounds like a date because I *know* it's a date. They probably think it's totally innocent...*

"Okay. See you at home."

"See you at home," Nadine said. She watched Kate leave and exchanged places with Willa. Simon pushed his own chair into the corner - they had no other two-person teams - and waved to her as he headed for the door.

"Have a good show," Willa said as she closed the door behind herself.

"Thanks," Nadine said. She took her seat, rearranged a few of the things on the desktop and glanced at the clock before she switched on the mic. "Happy mid-morning, almost afternoon to all you lovely people in December Harbor and everyone across Squire's Isle. I am Nadine Butler, the Pixie, and I will be here until five this afternoon. Seems so far away, doesn't it? But I am here to take a little bit of the sting away because I am doing something special today.

"When I walked into the station, the secretary showed me all of these calls from people who were going to the Squire Days festival just to see me. That really touches my heart, truly, so... I'm going to make you guys really happy." She picked up a random piece of paper and crumpled it next to the mic. "That was my play list for today and I am throwing it out. Because all day today, I am going to be taking your requests. Give me a call, 232-KELF, tell me what you want to hear because you are taking over the radio station."

She scanned the actual play list and said, "For now, I'm going to be playing some of my favorites while I'm gathering up your requests. We've got Stevie Nicks coming up, some Jim Croce and lots more that depends on you guys. Let me know what you want to hear." She switched over to the CD and pulled off her headphones. She knew without looking that Miranda was standing outside the window watching her.

She stood up without looking and opened the booth. Sure enough, Miranda was standing right there with arms crossed. "All requests?"

"Billy will help me make sure we have time for all the commercials. We'll be fine. You worry too much, Miranda."

Miranda huffed and glanced over her shoulder. "You have to do this to me right after I tease you about a raise."

"Teach you to tease a girl," Nadine grinned.

Miranda blushed and said, "All right, fine. All requests. Why not." She motioned at the booth and said, "Go! Take some requests. I'll accept all-request, but I won't allow dead air."

Nadine saluted, only half-mockingly, and went back to her seat. She hit Line One. "This is the Pixie on KELF, what can I play for you?"

---

Miranda paused and watched as Nadine resumed her post. She loved the fact that the DJ faced away from the window; she would hate to explain how often she'd found herself standing, staring at Nadine's back and just... staring. She just loved to watch the woman work, loved how she leaned into the mic to make her voice deeper and more intimate.

"Teach you to tease a girl," she muttered. "Sheesh. Like I don't have enough problems..."

---

Billy came into the booth two or three times before he finally accepted Nadine's invitation to sit across from her. As she took requests, she wrote the titles and artist on a piece of paper. When she had a nice, long list, she would hand it to Billy and he would write the play times in pen next to the artist name. His tongue poked from his mouth as he then re-listed them in blocks of eight to ten minutes and handed the paper back to Nadine.

She, meanwhile, kept taking requests and putting notations next to the song title to remember who had requested the song. She waited until *Guitar Man* ended and went back on the air. "This is KELF, I am the Pixie and the radio station is at your mercy this afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. That was Bread with *Guitar Man* for Erin. Hope you enjoyed that, Erin. For now, we're going to take a little pause for a commercial break and we'll be right back with more of your requests. Hang tight."

She sent it to commercial and said, "Billy, you've been a godsend today."

"I aim to please, Miss Butler," he said. He kept his eyes down and fiddled with the tip of his pen.

"I'm just telling you so you won't fight when Miranda tries to pay you tonight."

He shook his head. "I don't need nothing extra. Just..."

"Food money, right," she said. "You just want what's fair. Well, I wouldn't have been able to do this today without your help. You went above and beyond what you were hired for and we're going to pay you appropriately. It's only fair. All right?"

He finally nodded his head - a quick up-and-down bob - and she smiled. "Good. Now..." She was distracted by movement in the glass, just visible from her periphery. She turned and saw Kate standing in the bullpen, waving through the glass.

"She was here this morning," Billy said. "Willa and Simon interviewed her."

"Yep, they did," Nadine murmured. She checked the counter on the commercial break and went quickly to the door. "Hey, hon... Kate." She glanced around to see if anyone had heard her slip. "What's up?"

Kate held up a couple of bags. "Since I was in the neighborhood, I thought I'd drop in and see if you wanted to have lunch in your booth."

"It's kind of cramped in there, with Billy. And it's hectic today..."

Kate smiled. "I heard. All requests?"

Nadine shrugged and smiled. "Thank you for the offer, though. It was really sweet."

"I do what I can. Well, you might as well, take your sandwich." She handed the bag over and said, "So I'll see you tonight."

Nadine nodded and watched Kate leave for the second time that day. She glanced towards Miranda's office and saw the manager watching her. Miranda nodded at Kate's back. "Our guests usually don't come back until at least a day has passed. Who was that?"

"Kate Price. She works at the *Register.*"

"Right," Miranda nodded. She glanced at the booth and said, "I think your commercial is about to end."

Nadine gasped and ran back to her station. She looked out the window as she slipped her headphones back on. "Hey, welcome back. How were those commercials? You going to buy any of that stuff? Who knows, right?" She looked towards the window and saw the familiar green-and-white bulk sliding through the water. "Well, I can see the afternoon ferry coming in right now. All of you tourists need to know that K-E-L-F and the Pixie are having a very special show right now..."

---

"Okay, everyone, it's almost that time. My wrist is sore from keeping track of all your requests, so I think tomorrow we'll be going back to the old-fashioned way, if you don't mind. My thanks to my time-keeper, Billy, my thanks to everyone who called in to make sure we didn't have dead air and my thanks to everyone who listened today. Be sure to tune in tomorrow; I'll be lonesome if you don't. Good-bye, everybody."

She escorted Billy from the booth and stepped aside to let Hoagie in. "An all-request show?" he asked as he headed for the seat.

"It was to thank people for liking me better than you," she said.

He scoffed and said, "Sure, Pixie, sure."

She stuck her tongue out at him and went to her desk to retrieve her things. As she bundled up against the cold, she saw Miranda leave her office and hand Billy an envelope. She thanked him for his help, made sure he would actually take the money, and then went to Nadine's desk. "Were you planning to dress up for the faire?"

"Do I have to?"

"No."

"Then definitely not," Nadine said. "I might wear something fancier than my jeans and sweatshirt, but otherwise..."

"All right. Hoagie was going to go the full court jester route. Tights, jingle-bell hat, pointed shoes... the whole bit."

Nadine cringed. "Another reason to thank our lucky stars that I took over for him."

Miranda snickered and said, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow...?"

"I'll be at the faire. Unofficially."

"In costume?"

"You'll just have to wait and see!" She winked and went back to her office.

Nadine pictured Miranda wearing a wench costume and decided she would make a very nice wench, if she so desired. She chuckled and slipped the strap of her bag over her head. She looked around for Billy and saw that he was already back to work cleaning desks. "Thank you for your help today, Billy."

"Happy to lend a hand."

She headed out, said good-bye to Sue as she passed the desk, and walked out into the cold.

---

She expected it when she got home, she just didn't expect the ferocity of it.

As soon as she opened her front door, Kate was on her. She managed to kick the door shut and glanced at the windows to make sure the blinds were drawn as she was pushed towards the couch. She sat down heavily and Kate's hands went to her blouse. Nadine leaned back and let herself be undressed. "How come you were at the station today?" she asked as her jeans were unbuttoned.

"Wanted to see you," Kate said.

Nadine lifted her hips and Kate dragged her jeans down. She kicked them aside and closed her eyes as Kate's hands brushed her naked thighs. "Just to... spend time with me?"

"Yeah," Kate said. She occupied her tongue for a bit without speaking and after a moment said, "Why?"

"Hum?"

"Why'd you ask?"

"Oh." Nadine cleared her throat. "I was just wondering."

Well," Kate said. She turned her head and kissed the inside of Nadine's thigh. "To be honest, I kind of wanted to christen your booth."

Nadine laughed, a wild, warbling sound due to what Kate was doing between her legs. "I think... you're going to have to give up on that dream, babe."

"A girl needs fantasies," Kate said.

She didn't talk for a long time after that.

She did spell a few words with the tip of her tongue, however.

---

Nadine took a shower when they finished and came out to find Kate had left. She heard light footfalls in the apartment upstairs and put her glasses back on. "Guess the date is over," she muttered. She sat on the couch, wrapped in her towel, and turned on the TV. She pulled a notebook off the coffee table, found a pen that worked and began scribbling down notes for banter between songs in the morning.

"Fair days to all... these and thous will probably be necessary..." She tapped her chin with the tip of her pencil, thought for a moment and went back to writing.

---

A few blocks away from Nadine's apartment, Miranda lived in the elite gated community of Sandpiper Condos. The condo was really a small living room ringed by all the other rooms, none of them very large. But the truth was, no one lived in Sandpiper for the accommodations. They came for the security of the six-foot stone wall around the property. Even thought break-ins were relatively unheard of on Squire's Isle, she was still a product of an island called Manhattan and the stone wall had been *the* selling point for her.

Miranda had arrived home and gone straight to the bedroom. She undressed for bed in the light of a single lamp and pulled a folded pair of pajamas from the dresser drawer. When she turned around, the outfit she planned to wear in the morning caught her eye. She hadn't had any problem with the idea of Hoagie seeing her in it - other than the jokes she was sure to have been subjected to - but something about Nadine seeing her gave her pause.

It was silly, she finally decided as she finished putting on her pajamas. If anything, Nadine would be even better than Hoagie. There wouldn't be any jokes or inappropriate comments... But still... it was awfully low-cut.

"Like she'll even be looking at your breasts," Miranda thought. She climbed under the covers and turned off the lamp. As she stared at the darkness of her bedroom ceiling, she thought back to that lovely dark-haired woman she'd seen Nadine talking to. The reporter from Willa and Simon's show, Kate... Prince? There was something about the way they had been standing together, their body language with one another.

She shook her head and tried to dispel the images brewing there. Nadine and the reporter were just friends, and that was all. Ever since she realized her attraction to women, she'd been seeing lesbian relationships everywhere. If half the women she suspected were actually gay, she'd be very concerned for the fate of humanity.

She pulled one of the pillows out from under her head and smothered her face with it. Nadine was straight, her friend the reporter was straight, every damn woman on the island was straight.

She relaxed her grip on the pillow and reached down to the waistband of her pajama pants. *Still,* she thought. *A little wishful thinking never hurt anyone...* She bit her bottom lip and pushed her hand lower. She touched herself through her panties and, after a momentary debate about whether it was tacky to masturbate about someone who worked for you, turned off the lamp to sin in private.

3 -

It took Nadine a moment to realize why her alarm was going off on Saturday. She stared blankly at the small clock at the edge of her coffee table, blankets piled around her face and mind still locked on sleeping. She stared at the pre-noon time displayed in undeniable red numbers for an entire minute before she remembered her promise about the renaissance faire.

She covered her face and groaned into her cupped palms before kicking the blankets away. She sat up and silenced the tinny, bleating voice of the alarm clock. Her glasses were lying next to the clock, but she didn't bother picking them up. She just stared at the blurry wall until she completely woke up. She was naked from the waist down and felt completely used up.

After falling immediately to sleep, she had woken up a few hours later. The rest of the night was like that; asleep, waking up and staring at the wall, fall asleep, stare out the window as the sky turned violet and then red. She'd been exhausted, but apparently her mind was eager to turn over her relationship with Kate. Over and over. This weekend was supposed to have been a big step for them: going out, being together without sex entering the equation. She hadn't gotten a solution for her troubles, just the start of a migraine throbbing behind her left eye.

She finally stood up and shed her t-shirt as she stumbled to the bathroom. The shower was ice-cold, a common problem in the old apartment building. The neighbors used up most of the hot water before she was awake, so she more often than not found herself shivering herself awake. Not that she would complain; today the chill was exactly what she needed.

When she decided the shower was over, she dried off and wrapped the towel around herself to keep from shivering. She sidestepped the clutter in the bedroom and dug through all the casual work clothes for something vaguely appropriate to wear out in public. She hated these 'public display broadcasts.' How many other professions would ask someone to climb up on a wooden crate and perform their job for the masses?

She finally chose a tweed suit that was just a little bit baggy on her. She put on a rumpled gray dress shirt and a tie that she looped loosely around her neck for an appearance of formality without all the choking. She dressed quickly and led her bike out of the apartment building without looking up at Kate's apartment.

As she walked outside, she was struck by how pleasant it actually was. The sun appeared to be on a mission to disprove the 'end a drought by throwing an outdoor festival' rule. She left her bike leaning on the door frame and ran back into the apartment. She found a boonie hat a fan had sent her and put it on in the hopes it would offer a little protection from the heat.

Head protected, she climbed back onto her bike and checked her watch; she had a little over an hour to get to the park. She turned the bike in the opposite direction and instead rode into the heart of town.

She turned the corner and went past a row of restaurants she often advertised on her show. They were family-owned and operated; no Mickey D's or Wendy's on this island. People seated at the windows waved as she passed and, knowing the familiarity such a small town brought, she waved back and wondered how many knew she was on the radio.

Turning onto Front Street was like being transported to a completely new town. The stores were kitschy little tourist traps with stuffed orcas and paintings by local artists hanging in the window. The tourists rarely ventured past this strip mall area, the false front to the real-life town where people lived and worked. Already this morning the sidewalks were full with people who had arrived on the morning ferry and were awaiting the next one to take them home.

She paused before crossing the ferry lanes towards KELF. Instead of parking at the station, she angled her bike across the street. She stopped in front of the building directly across from her place of work and stared at it for a long moment. It was nothing special, just a small, one-story yellow brick building. The sign hanging in the front window said simply 'Photos' over a neon yellow camera.

Knowing she either had to go in or head to the park, she leaned her bike against the wall next to the door and stepped inside. The bell over her head jangled as she brought one hand to the loose knot of her tie.

The wood-paneled public area of the store was tiny; a low counter ran parallel to the front door and offered little in the way of a waiting area. Nadine stood next to the cash register and stared at the door that led to the photo-processing area. After a few seconds, the door opened and an older woman stepped out with an armful of photo packets.

"Just a second, dear," she said. "I'm..." She looked up and froze when she saw Nadine. "Oh."

Nadine smiled weakly. "Hi, Momma."

"Your father..." The woman looked nervously towards the front door.

"I know. He's never here on Saturdays. Why do you think I came now?"

"No, honey, he's down the street. He's buying..."

The front door opened behind Nadine and a gruff voice said, "Someone else in this town has a damn bike just like..." He looked up and mimicked his wife's reaction. "Nadine's."

Nadine stayed put. Whether it was a conscious choice or forced by the fact that her father was blocking the sole exit, she wasn't sure. Her father was a block of a man; arms thin but coiled with muscle, a brush of white hair capping his head. He looked at the world with his eyebrows knit together, his jaw caught in a perpetual clench. He frankly seemed willing to fight any and everyone who crossed his path.

Nadine fiddled with her tie under the force of his stare and finally glanced over her shoulder at her mother. Tamara Butler put down the photo packets she'd been holding and rounded the edge of the counter. She went to her husband and forced a smile. "Nadine just stopped by to say hello."

Nathaniel Thomas Butler started to put his hands into his pockets, looked down at the bag of donuts as if it had simply appeared there by magic, and settled for leaving both arms by his sides. "I thought I made it clear." This was said to his wife, rather than the woman standing right in front of him.

"Sorry, Daddy," Nadine said. "I just wanted to make sure Momma was..."

He shoved the bag of donuts to Tamara and said, "I'll be in the back." He looked towards the back of the room, apparently just to avoid looking at Nadine, and added, "Call me if a customer comes in." He stormed around the counter and through the door Tamara had exited.

When they were alone again, Tamara put the bag down and gripped Nadine's arm. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry."

"What do you know," she murmured. "Still hurts."

Tamara bit her lip and looked down at Nadine's hands. "What did you want to tell me?"

"I'm broadcasting from Squire Days today and tomorrow. I thought you might want to come by and say hello. Maybe."

"I'd love to." She rose onto her tiptoes to kiss Nadine's cheek; her mother was the only person Nadine, at five-foot-four, could tower over. "I'll be there if I can."

Nadine smiled and hugged her mother. When they parted, Nadine glanced towards the door and quietly said, "Do you think he'll ever stop hating me?"

"He doesn't hate you," Tamara said. She straightened Nadine's blazer and tsked. "I don't know why you have to dress like this all the time, Nadine. Honestly."

"It's fine," Nadine argued as she swept her mother's hands away. She smiled sadly and kissed the top of her head. "I have to go, Momma. I'll see you soon."

"Okay, honey. Be well." She tightened her grip on Nadine's hand before letting it drop..

Nadine took her bike by the handles and walked it to the corner, tears finally burning her eyes. She'd held on as long as she could and had thankfully managed to keep her calm in front of her mother. But now that she was alone... She wiped her eyes before she climbed onto her bike and pedaled towards the park.

Her father had officially banished her from Butler Photography when she broke the news to him. The hurt and pain in his face had been almost unbearable, like she was denying him along with everything he believed in. He couldn't comprehend her decision, that it was her life. But he'd been pig-headed and stubborn about it. "Fine!" he'd snapped as he tossed her booklet across the room. "Be a... disc jockey." He had imbued such venom into the job title that she might as well have told him she was becoming a prostitute.

He'd never forgiven her. She was his only child, the sole heir to Butler Photography. If the business was to live past him and his wife, she would have had to take over. Without her taking her rightful place as his successor, it would either close down and be forgotten or have to be handed over to a stranger. Neither idea appealed to him.

During her school years, he'd actively campaigned to have her return to the flock. Drop out, come home, and learn the ropes of photography and film developing while she was still young. When she graduated, he made one last ditch effort to convert her. She was implacable and he'd literally turned his back on her. Since then, he hadn't spoken a word directly to her.

The fact that KELF and Butler Photography faced each other across a road wasn't mere coincidence or fate being cruel. When Nadine was a little girl, she had gone straight from school to her parents' shop. She had been the dutiful daughter, giving people their Treasured Memories photo albums and learning how to count by giving them their change. She had been happy and her father had beamed with pride every time she said, "Thanks for trusting us with your memories" to the departing customers.

That all began to change when she realized the wonders that lay across the street. She owed her career, her entire adult life, to a package delivered to the wrong address. The mailman had left it outside the front door of Butler Photography, but it was addressed to KELF Radio.

It had been hours since their last customer, so eight-year-old Nadine had tucked it under her arm, told her parents she'd be right back and walked confidently across the street. And she had never turned back, not really, since that day.

KELF was magic. The radio people lived there! She started sneaking over whenever she could. The DJs and the station manager grew to know her and anticipate her arrivals. They let her into the booth, showed her the marvelous things that let them speak to *everyone* on the island. What eight-year-old wouldn't have been entranced?

As far as she was concerned, KELF was the be-all and end-all. Working in radio was like being God; a voice coming to people all over, in all moods. She could brighten their day just by being there. She could play music and make people dance. As soon as she knew what the word meant, she wanted to be a disc jockey.

It had cost her a father.

She wiped the tears from her eyes as she pedaled through the familiar streets of her home town. The worst part of it was that she would never come out to him. Her job choice had demoted her to a non-entity in his eyes. The fact that his little girl would never give him grandchildren? That she was a 'heathen'? She couldn't bear to think about how he would treat her in that case.

---

The faire preparations she'd seen the day before hadn't prepared her for the sheer extravagance of the final product. Even from a block away she could hear the sound of bagpipes. As she grew nearer, the music was joined by the bustle of the crowd and the sounds of several people singing. Her headache throbbed as if to say, 'Oh, I will love it here' and she groaned.

She secured her bike to a tree and joined the sea of people heading in through the front gates. When asked for a ticket, she showed her KELF Employee ID card and the ticket-taker waved her through. Most of the people she saw were in full costume, a handful of them were wearing regular clothes and there seemed to be a few people who had gone at least half-way with their outfits. A man wearing ratty slacks and a loose thermal shirt looked at least forty-percent authentic.

Vendors shouted for her to try their mead - "Best in the land," they proclaimed. A jester stepped into her path and thrilled her with his golf ball juggling. He smiled sheepishly and said, "If I try with bigger, they bounce off my head. I figure I'm better to be laughed at than dead."

Nadine laughed and applauded his rhyme. Before she could even wonder if he wanted a tip, he'd moved onto the next unwary pedestrian. She paused to watch a belly dancer enthralling the crowd from a small stage, applauded when she finished and continued on her way.

She found the booth easily enough; it was at the end of the midway, slightly elevated off the ground to give her a nice view of the entire park. Two towers on either side of the booth held speakers that were playing the station. A banner draped between the speakers stands announced "KELF RADIO, AM 1220, Broadcasting Live!!" Nadine briefly wondered how they'd gotten the faire-runners to allow this blatant anachronism, but it wasn't her place to wonder why. It was her place to climb up there and play music while the masses walked beneath her feet.

"Great," she murmured. "I get to play the great and powerful Oz... Pay no attention to the woman behind the microphone..."

She climbed the short staircase on the back of the platform and took her seat. The mobile radio station set-up was vaguely familiar to her, but she took a moment to reacquaint herself with the slightly different controls. As she was examining the dials, a hand fell on her shoulder and startled her. She turned and looked up into Miranda's steel blue eyes.

It took her a moment to recognize the woman she'd worked with for five years. Miranda's normally straight blonde hair had been transformed into a ringed veil, drooping down into her eyes from either side. She was wearing a flowing blue dress with a woven brown bodice. Her breasts were far more impressive than her business suits implied and Nadine found herself staring. Fortunately she caught herself before Miranda could notice.

"Everything normal?" Miranda asked, her eyes focused on the control panel.

*Define normal,* Nadine wanted to say. Instead she just nodded and said, "Looks like it."

Miranda nodded and knelt down, inadvertently letting the bodice of her dress fall open. Nadine swallowed and focused on her hand, which was resting on a stack of rectangular blue stickers in a cubby hole under the desk. "Bumper stickers are here, the buttons..." She opened a drawer and revealed boxes of KELF AM buttons. "Hand them out at your discretion. We've got about eight million of the things. We've got about fifteen t-shirts you can give away in contests if you'd like. I think that's it..."

Her hand squeezed Nadine's shoulder as she stood and Nadine was very aware of Miranda's breasts hovering inches away from her face.

"Thank you again for doing this for us, Nadine."

"Just remember," Nadine said with a raised finger. "Time and a half. Raise."

"Yes, ma'am," Miranda said. She started for the stairs and said over her shoulder, "I like your suit."

"I like your breasts," Nadine said before she could stop herself. Her face turned beet red and she turned around to see if Miranda had heard her.

Miranda had stopped on the top step and was looking down, her hands smoothing down the front of her dress. "Thank you. I bought it at a thrift store on the mainland. You really like it?" She looked up and said, "My dress?"

Nadine nodded, eternally grateful for the out. "Yeah. I-it's gorgeous." *Full, firm, supple,* her mind added. *Oh, shut up,* she told it.

Miranda smiled her thanks and went down the steps. Alone again, Nadine turned and covered her face with both hands. "Wonderful, Butler," she growled at herself. "It's not like you have to *speak* for a living or anything like that." She sighed and leaned back in her chair as she waited for the DJ at the station to send it over to her.

She bided her time people-watching as the Looking Glass sang about Brandy over her head. She idly wondered why the band hadn't rewritten the song about 'Alice,' gone for the whole literary reference, but she figured they knew what they were doing.

The juggler she'd seen earlier passed by, still tossing golf balls over his head but having added two or three to the rotation. He was bent almost backwards keeping track of them, but his hands were a blur. He glanced at her and she smiled, applauded. He tilted his head in what she took to be a bow and walked on.

A few people saw her and stopped to ask for autographs. She signed bumper stickers and buttons, told them to keep listening for the t-shirt contests and wished them a good day at the fair. As she was sending away the last of her admirers, she heard Ben, the weekend DJ, come back on the air. "That was Brandy by the Looking Glass and that will do it for me here in the studio. I'm going to send it out to Nadine Butler at Squire Days right now. Nadine, you there?"

She leaned forward to the mic. "I'm here, Benny. You oughta come out and see some of the stuff going on. We've got mead, we've got rhyming jugglers, we've got saucy wenches..."

"Sounds like my kind of place!"

"I'm telling ya! It's a smorgasbord of ladies and beer. You should've gotten this gig for yourself! But Ben and Hoagie lucked out and so did you, listeners, because I am going to be here from now until four this afternoon, keeping you company and keeping these lovely people entertained. Speaking of the lovely people, come on up and say hi! I'd be happy to play a song for you and I've got bumper stickers and buttons to give away.

"Right now, we're going to start things off right with Mr. Simon, Mr. Garfunkel and a little parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme."

She started *Scarborough Faire* and set up the next two songs on her play list. They weren't particularly medieval, but beggars couldn't be choosers. She still had the Moody Blues song, but she was saving it for later. Best not to blow all her tricks in the first few minutes. More people were congregating in front of the booth. She felt a bit like a judge as she rolled her chair to one side and peered down at them. "Hi! How are y'all?"

"Hey!" one guy said. "You really *are* the Pixie!"

She laughed and said, "I sure am. You guys got anything you want to hear?"

They gave her a handful of requests, which she scribbled down as best she could. "Okay, I'm definitely going to get those on for you!" She opened the drawer and grabbed a handful of buttons. "Anyone want a button?" She tossed them down and people snatched them from the air. "Keep listening to KELF!"

---

Miranda left the booth and stood in line for a turkey leg. As she waited, she looked down at her dress and noticed, for the seventieth time, how low-cut it was. It had been much more modest in the store. She was so anxious about how much it revealed, she was sure Nadine had said she liked her breasts. *Wishful thinking, much?* she chided herself.

The person in front of her walked off and she stepped forward. "A turkey leg, please...?" She withdrew a leather wallet from the folds of her dress and fished out two dollar bills.

"Dollar-fifty," the girl behind the counter said, "Your dress is really... like, really hot."

Miranda looked up and into the girl's eyes. "Really? You like it?"

The girl nodded, looked pointedly at Miranda's cleavage and said, "Yeah. I really, really do." She handed over the leg, a greasy napkin wrapped around the bone end. Miranda took it and held out the money to the girl. Their fingers brushed over the image of George Washington and the girl smiled. "I, uh... I'm just here for the weekend. Working for my uncle. I go to college on the mainland."

Translation: I'm over 18, if you're interested.

"Really," Miranda said.

"Really," the girl nodded.

Miranda smiled.

---

As the crowd of autograph-seekers dispersed, Nadine rolled her chair back to her controls and looked out over the crowd again. She wasn't searching for anything in particular, but she spotted Kate deep in the crowd. She was wearing a white blouse and slacks, her black hair loosely gathered underneath a brown newsboy cap. She was looking off to her left, hand up and her fingers lightly scratching her cheek. Someone stepped up next to her and she laughed, looped an arm around the newcomer's neck and started walking down the grassy midway.

The woman with her was a brunette in a t-shirt and jeans. She didn't lean into Kate's arm, but she wasn't exactly trying to escape, either. The mystery woman lifted an arm and pointed towards the booth and Kate nodded. They made their way over and Kate waved when she saw Nadine looking at her.

When they were close enough, Kate called out, "Hey, Dean!" in a Jerry Lewis drawl. The mystery woman laughed and Nadine instantly hated her.

Still, no need to be ugly about it. She forced a smile, waved her hand and said, "Hey, Kate," as casually as possible. "Who is your friend?"

Kate gestured at the woman she was currently embracing. "This is Amy Wellis." Amy lifted her hand and waggled her fingers. "She runs Coffee Table Books. You know, that place downtown..."

"I know it," Nadine said. "So, ah... w-what are you guys up to today?"

"Just hanging out," Kate said. "Amy's been after me to join her baseball team. The Squire's Knights? Anyway, she's been pestering me for weeks to play in this afternoon's game but, up until two days ago, I had plans. When I found out you had to work, I called her up."

"How do you know each other?"

"Kate interviewed me for this 'local celebrity' column she was doing," Amy said.

Nadine felt her hackles rise. It was the same subject Kate had been working on when they'd gotten together. She fought to keep herself calm as Kate spoke again.

"Amy wanted to meet you and maybe get one of those KELF buttons...?"

Nadine opened the drawer and pulled out a blue and white button. KELF 1220 scrolled across the curve of the button, surrounding "I listen to the Pixie!" in cursive writing. Nadine wanted to add 'And I sleep around with her girlfriend' before she tossed it down. She refrained and rose from her seat to drop it into Amy's hand. "Thanks!" Amy said.

Kate watched as Amy fastened the button to her t-shirt - *Eyes off her chest, Price,* Nadine seethed - and then smiled up at Nadine. "Thanks, babe. The game starts at around noon, so maybe I'll see you after?"

"Yeah, maybe," Nadine said. She glanced at the display and saw the batch of songs she'd set to play was about to end. She gestured at the mic. "I have to..."

"Yeah, duty calls," Kate said. "Bye-bye!"

"Thanks for the button!" Amy called.

Nadine watched them walk off and switched her mic on. "That was *Black Water* by the Doobie Brothers. Coming up, we've got David Bowie, Billy Joel and... a-and Paul Simon is up next." She went to commercial and searched the CDs for a certain song. She found it on a disc near the bottom of the stack.

*50 Ways to Leave Your Lover.* She kind of doubted it was to that point with her and Kate, but... it would certainly help her mood. "Just duck through the gate, Kate," she muttered as she slipped the disc in. She set it to play after the commercial break and watched her girlfriend walk away, arm-in-arm with another woman.

---

"Thanks for coming back," Nadine said. "In that last set, you heard Neil Sedaka's *Breaking Up Is Hard to Do,* The Bay City Rollers with *Bye, Bye, Baby* and *Farewell* by Rod Stewart. And no, you don't win a prize if you call in with the hidden theme in today's show." She managed a smile at the number of people who had called in about the break-up theme and actually found herself a little cheerful about running an actual contest.

"But there *is* time for a contest right now. Who, of the following four, are not mentioned in the Joey Levine song *Life is a Rock (But the Radio Rolled Me)*? Remember, we're looking for the one who is NOT mentioned... The Rolling Stones. Jack the Ripper. Elvis Presley or John Denver. Be the first caller with the right answer, you could win a very snazzy KELF AM t-shirt. You can even get it autographed by me if you want. Let me hear ya. Right now, we've got *I Wish It Would Rain* by the Temptations."

She heard footsteps on the stairs leading up to her platform and she turned to shoo away yet another teenager trying to be king of the hill. This time, however, it was Miranda Powell. She swayed a little and put her hand on the back of Nadine's chair to steady herself before she fell. "Hey," she said. Nadine detected a whiff of mead on her breath. "Good show?"

"Decent. Gave away a couple of t-shirts, about to give away one more if I get a winner."

"Good. I heard the trivia question. Is it John Denver?"

"No," Nadine said.

"Darn," Miranda said. She smiled and winked before moving her hand to Nadine's shoulder. She bent down to whisper in her ear in a conspiratorial whisper. "Maybe you could lay off the break-up songs for a while? It's kind of supposed to be a fun time."

"Yeah, okay," Nadine said. She smiled and realized just how drunk Miranda was. *She's leaning down,* her mind informed her. *Remember not to look at her breasts.* Nadine's eyes dipped down to Miranda's cleavage. *Idiot,* she chided herself.

Miranda followed Nadine's eyes and clapped a hand over her chest. "Oh, jeez. Giving everyone a free show, aren't I?" She stood up - to Nadine's pleasure and consternation - and smoothed the bodice of her dress. She looked out over the crowd and said, "I'm heading home. Just wanted to stop by real quick before I left."

"You're not driving, are you?" Nadine asked.

"No," Miranda chuckled. "I found someone to give me a ride. You're sweet for worrying, though." She bent down and kissed the top of Nadine's head. "See you on Monday, Dean."

"Yeah, see you." She felt redness rising in her cheeks, the spot Miranda had kissed tingling slightly. She waved a hand in front of her face, watched Miranda leave and then turned back to her console. "1220 KELF, you're on with Nadine Butler. You got an answer for our trivia question?"

---

Miranda found the girl from the turkey stand in the parking lot and said, "Thanks for giving me a ride. I think I had a bit too much." She wrapped her arms around the girl and squeezed her ass through the patchwork trousers she was wearing.

"How drunk are you, milady?" the girl - at least half Miranda's age - asked.

"Drunk enough," Miranda said. "Come on. I'll give you directions to my place."

---

At 2:30, the sun that had been relentlessly beating her had finally disappeared behind a cloud and Nadine, for one, was grateful. The headache she'd been nursing all day had returned with a vengeance when she saw Kate with Amy. She wasn't sure what the main part of the headache was from; her sleepless night, the heat, her encounter with her father... but she assumed the most insistent throbbing was from seeing Amy and Kate together. Her mind refused to stop manufacturing scenarios where the two of them ended up in bed.

If the team lost, would they drown their sorrows in beer? If the team won, would they get caught up in the moment and share a celebratory kiss?

She finally gave up thinking about it and gave away the rest of the t-shirts with insanely easy trivia - "Which member of the Beatles married Yoko Ono?" and the like - and handed out every button in the drawer. The bumper sticker pile had started to dwindle so she had sought out a new supply. She found a stack of what had to be twelve thousand stuffed in another drawer and had yet to make a sizable dent in that stack.

At three, she transferred the feed to Willa Lamb, back at the station, to read the news off the wire. As Willa read the news, Nadine watched the people wandering back and forth in front of her booth. A few of them reached up to shake her hand or paused to say hello. She signed a lot of the bumper stickers - she refused to call them autographs; famous people gave autographs - and wished them all a good afternoon.

When four o'clock finally rolled around, she wished everyone a happy faire and began packing up. She wasn't sure who would break down and put away the booth, but she knew it wasn't her job. She put the CDs and tapes into the safe and made sure it locked tight before she climbed down.

She paused to get something that proclaimed to be a turkey leg but looked like it had been taken from some prehistoric beast. She hadn't had a chance to eat all day and was finally starting to feel the pangs. She wandered through the faire, pausing to examine some of the costumes of people she passed. After a while, she realized what she was doing; she didn't want to go home and wait for Kate to stumble in. Most likely with Amy in tow. God, she didn't want to face that.

But she had no choice. Might as well go home and face the music, get it over with. She dumped the remainder of her monster turkey leg into a trash bin and headed to find her bike.

4 -

By the time Nadine got home, the headache had become a toddler beating the insides of her skull with a wiffle ball bat. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she unlocked the front door and didn't see the black duffle bag sitting in her way. She kicked it, cursed and pushed it out of the way with her foot. As it fell over, a pile of sweaty baseball clothes tumbled out to the carpet. *Guess that answers if Kate is here or not,* she mused.

She stepped over the stinking pile and headed towards the back of the apartment. "Kate? You left your stuff in front of the door again!" There was no response, so she shut the door and dumped her own bag on the couch. She heard the shower as she undid her tie and her mind suddenly formed an image of Amy and Kate making out in the tiny stall.

*No, you know for a fact that stall is too cramped to have sex in,* she told herself. Still, she knocked on the bathroom door and hazarded a look inside. She saw Kate's familiar silhouette - thankfully *just* her - behind the smoked glass. "Hey, Kate. How was the game?"

"Good!" Kate said over the spray. "We creamed them." She pushed the door open and stuck her head out. "Amy wants me to sign up full time. I'm actually considering it."

"Awesome," Nadine said without much enthusiasm. "I'll be out here when you get out."

"Okay."

Nadine closed the door and went into the bedroom. She undressed amid the crowd of boxes, broken TVs, newspapers, magazines and other various things she hadn't unpacked after her move from college. She eyed the mess warily; she knew it was tinderbox, but the task of cleaning out was just so daunting... She sighed and turned her back to it. Out of sight, out of mind.

She pushed open the closet and grabbed a pair of blue jeans. As she was searching for a t-shirt, the bathroom door creaked open and Kate stepped into the hallway. She was wrapped in a towel, her skin glistening from the shower. She saw Nadine in the bedroom and stepped into the doorway. She raised her arms and hooked her fingers on the top of the doorframe. Nadine looked over, admiring the way the towel rose at her hips.

Kate's lips curled into a devious smile at the sight of Nadine in her underwear. "Well, damn," she said.

Nadine looked down at her boxer shorts and brassiere. "What?"

"I'm going to need another shower," Kate sighed. She dropped her hands from the doorframe and moved her hands to the knot of towel between her breasts. She loosened it and let the terrycloth drop to the floor. Nadine had time to admire her lovers lithe, toned body before Kate picked her up. She obediently wrapped her legs around Kate's waist and let herself be lowered to the floor. They kissed and Nadine felt Kate's hand on her belly and sliding lower. She unwound her legs and planted her feet on the floor, breaking the kiss as her underwear was slid down her legs.

*Okay, fine,* Nadine thought. One last boff. One last roll in the hay before we have the Fight. God knew Kate was good at it.

Relenting to Kate's assault - and the insistence of her own body that it was a Good Thing - Nadine spread her legs apart. Kate moved her lips to Nadine's neck and moved her hand between Nadine's legs. Nadine groaned and her eyes rolled back in her head; her neck was Kate's favorite sweet spot, mostly because she knew what it did to Nadine.

Kate's slender fingers moved between Nadine's thighs and began to stroke, caress and pinch the tender flesh. Nadine wondered, as she often did when Kate was fingering her, if Kate had ever studied piano; her fingers moved independent of one another, rising and falling, thrusting and stroking, seemingly playing out a song of which only Kate knew the tune.

Nadine unhooked her own bra and dropped it to the side, drawing Kate's attention to the new territory. She abandoned Nadine's neck and slid down, capturing one nipple with lips, teeth and tongue. She moved between Nadine's breasts, sucking, nibbling and licking around her nipples. Nadine whimpered and arched her back; Kate chuckled and slipped her free arm around Nadine's waist. She knew how much Nadine loved to have her breasts played with, knew how sensitive they were, and she used them like a secret weapon. They had once spent an entire night touching one another above the belt; Nadine had almost exploded from the orgasm she had when Kate finally went down on her.

The memory of that night, Kate's long fingers stroking her nipples for nearly an hour, was what pushed her over the edge.

Trying to speak in gasping, impatient sobs, she reached down and grabbed Kate's wrist. She held it in place between her legs and squeezed her thighs tight around it. Kate knew the signs and kept her hand still as Nadine came. She kissed the gooseflesh as it rose on her breasts and arms. Nadine trembled one last time, closed her eyes behind her glasses and finally sagged down onto the carpet.

Kate stretched up and kissed Nadine's lips, softly and tenderly, and cupped her naked breast. "That was wonderful," she breathed. She trailed her hand down Nadine's chest, stroked her belly and then started to sit up. "Can I assume you'll thank me later?"

Nadine frowned and opened her eyes. Kathryn Price passing up instant gratification? She sat up on her elbows and watched as Kate stood up. "Why later?"

Kate gathered her towel and wiped her fingers on it. "Work. I have to cover tonight's Town Hall meeting." She stuck her tongue out and looked down to make sure her own thighs weren't wet before she looped the towel around her shoulders like a scarf. "I'm covering the City Beat this month, so... since I'm in town..." She shrugged and walked naked into the living room.

Nadine followed, also not bothering to cover up. She paused in the doorway and crossed her hands over her breasts. They were still sensitive and she resisted the urge to shudder as her arms brushed her erect nipples. "C-could I come with you?"

"To a Town Hall meeting?" Kate smirked. "Are you sure you can handle the excitement?"

Nadine shrugged. "Come on. It'll be like a date. It'll make up for not getting to the mainland this weekend."

"I'm not entirely sure you understand what a Town Hall meeting entails," Kate said. "But yeah, come along. You can make fun of Mayor Dugan with me."

Nadine grinned. "Great! Just give me a chance to get dressed."

"Okay," Kate said. She wrapped the towel around herself and headed for the door. "I have to run upstairs to change anyway."

When Kate was gone, Nadine went into the bathroom for a quick shower of her own. Her head was still throbbing, but the sex had actually helped take the edge off. She glanced at herself in the mirror and managed to smile at her reflection. Maybe she wouldn't have to have the confrontation about Amy and everything she felt was wrong in their relationship. Maybe tonight was actually the first step in actually becoming a couple.

If she'd bothered to take stock of the enemies in her path - the heat, the trauma of seeing her father, the anger she'd been nursing since seeing Kate and Amy together, the shame at her reaction to Miranda - she would have done the wise thing and ran to the couch where she could hide under the blankets until Monday.

---

The Town Hall was only a few blocks away, separated from her apartment building by a sea of restaurants. When Kate came back downstairs in slacks and a white blouse, Nadine suggested they walk rather than take Kate's car. The weather had decided to turn cold again, but it was still comfortable enough that they wouldn't need jackets and Kate agreed.

The street lights were glowing, the cool breeze of the harbor a balm after the unseasonably warm day they'd had. Nadine put her arm around Kate's without thinking and let herself be drawn into her lover's embrace. Their first date had ended with a moonlit walk and Nadine smiled at the memory. *Our first night together, I gave her a flower,* she thought.

*Nadine knelt down, plucked a purple-and-white peony from the flower bed, and carried it back to Kate. She stuck the flower into a buttonhole on Kate's shirt and it hung away from her chest, bobbing like a bizarre second head and Nadine laughed.

"Are you supposed to pluck those?" Kate asked as she gently touched the petals.

"It's okay, I know the caretaker."*

She put her chin on Kate's shoulder and heard her chuckle.

Kate squeezed Nadine's hand and bent down. She whispered, "All we need is a peony and everything will be perfect."

Nadine blinked and looked up at her. "I was *just* thinking that."

Kate smiled. She took a chance and, as they passed through a shadow between two street lights, she bent down and kissed Nadine's cheek. Nadine felt her face flush and pressed against Kate's side. She was glad that she'd held her tongue, glad Kate had seduced her before she could start the fight she had planned. This was exactly what she'd been aching for the past couple of months; a walk in the moonlight, a kiss on the cheek, just being close enough to smell Kate's shampoo and enjoying each other. Like a real couple.

They walked in silence for a while and Nadine finally couldn't hold it back anymore. "Is Amy gay?"

Kate didn't hesitate. "Mm-hmm."

"Are you..."

"Yes, honey, I'm gay, too."

Nadine smirked. "No, I was going to ask if you were... attracted to her."

"Why would you ask that?"

*That's not a no,* Nadine thought. *Why couldn't you have just said no, you stupid reporter?* She shrugged, trying to hide her dismay. "The way you guys were acting today, I just thought... I don't know... and the stupid article. It was the same article you were doing when you and I started..."

Kate laughed. "Contrary to what you may believe, I don't use my job to pick up chicks." Nadine was glad it was dark so Kate couldn't see her blush. "I told you, I had a crush on you for ages." She stopped at the corner and turned to face Nadine. She stroked her cheek and said, "Don't worry. Amy and I are just friends. I think she's seeing some butch cop from the mainland or... something." She kissed the tip of Nadine's nose.

Nadine smiled and nodded towards Town Hall. "Come on. Let's go get bored to tears. And then we can stop at one of these foine 'stablishments and get some food in us."

"Foine?" Kate said.

"Mm-hmm."

"Is that a word in your world?"

Nadine chuckled and hugged Kate tighter.

The front doors of the Town Hall stood open, revealing the welcoming yellow glow within. They went up the stairs, unconsciously slipping away from one another to keep up the façade that they were 'just friends.' They took their seats near the middle of the room, on the aisle, and chatted with people nearby as the room filled up with stragglers.

Kate leaned forward to speak with someone from the newspaper and Nadine looked around the room. The meeting room was extremely quaint; it looked like someone's idea of a meeting hall from a century ago. Electric lanterns fashioned to look like gaslights ran the length of the walls to either side, filled with candle-shaped bulbs instead of true flames. Wood-carvings of people she assumed to be the island's first inhabitants hung between the sconces. She recognized Gabriel Sawyer, the man who had led the first expedition to the island and had a statue in the Memorial Park, but the rest were absolute strangers.

A man at the front of the room cleared his throat and the conversation began to die down. Kate leaned back into her seat and everyone faced forward. The front of the room was dominated with a stage that had hosted everything from school pageants to graduation. Two men in the familiar tan-and-black uniforms of the police department were seated at the far end. A fat, older man in a green suit was closer to the middle.

When the din of the crowd had died down, the older policeman stood and walked to the podium. His uniform was crisp, his badge and bald head both reflecting the light of the hall. He gripped the edge of the podium, looked down at the papers lying in front of him and cleared his throat. "I, uh..." The microphone whined feedback and he covered it with his hand. Offering only a slight grimace that spoke volumes about his irritation, he coughed into his hand and tried again.

"I'm Sheriff Cal Rucker. And, ah, of course you all know Mayor Jameson Dugan," he said, gesturing at the man in the ugly suit. Dugan half-rose from his seat and offered a slight wave. *Like he's a Presidential candidate or something,* Nadine thought. She glanced at Kate and saw the sly grin that meant she'd had the same thought. They smiled at one another, but said nothing out loud.

"Well, uh... I suppose we should start with new business. If anyone has anything they want to discuss, grievances to air, I'd like to invite you to come up to the microphone in the aisle..." He tightened and released his fingers on the edge of the podium for a few minutes as the room remained still. He smiled and said, "Well, folks, as much as I'd like to call it a night right now, I'm sure there's *something* you'd all like to talk about."

A few chuckles and then an older woman near the front stood up. Rucker saw her and smiled. "Hello, Mildred."

Mildred walked to the microphone, angled it down so it would catch her voice and said in a loud, clear voice, "I might's well speak up." She cleared her throat and said, "Is it true Fire Chief Bradley is going to retire at the end of the year?"

Rucker nodded. "Don has spoken to me about it briefly and yes, he's planning to step down at the end of... of December, I think it was." He adjusted some papers and nodded. "We're already looking for a replacement for him and have a couple of options from mainland fire departments. If we cannot find someone to take over by the time he leaves, Assistant Chief Wolfe will step in temporarily."

Mildred nodded and said, "Just find someone as good as Mr. Bradley. He helped rebuild my garage when it caught fire a few years back. Really nice fellow, really nice."

There was a smattering of applause as Mildred returned to her seat. Rucker was smiling and nodded, "Yes, ma'am, old Don went above and beyond. We shouldn't be surprised it finally took something out of him." He waited until Mildred had made it back to her seat before he scanned the room. "Anyone else? Grievances, questions... comments..."

A woman stood up at the far right of the room. She tightened her blazer and sidled her way down the row of chairs towards the aisle. Kate muttered, "Oh, God, not her." She looked at Nadine with weary acceptance. "You may get entertained after all..."

Nadine glanced at Kate and then watched as the slender woman approached the microphone. She wore a business suit that had never seen a wrinkle and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun without a single strand out of place. A pair of small eyeglasses hung on the edge of her nose and seemed to threaten to fall with each step of her fine Italian shoes.

She marched to the microphone and spun on her heel like a general addressing her troops. Kate groaned and, from the look on Rucker's face he was familiar with her as well. He rested his chin on his left fist and looked at her with patient acceptance. "Hello, Eleanor. What's the problem this week?"

Eleanor Nelson ignored the tone of his voice and held her prepared statement out with one hand. She cleared her throat and said, "Thank you, Sheriff Rucker. I have come before this meeting to request that a certain 'novel' be taken off the shelves of our hallowed December Harbor Public Library. The book is entitled *Sparks of Love,* and it was written by a woman named Francesca Harland. This book depicts a... homosexual relationship as normal."

Rucker sighed and straightened his back. "Now, Eleanor, someone else tried to remove that book from the library last month. The librarians read it and they decided there is nothing explicit in the book, no graphic love scenes or even strong language. It's a love story."

"It is a *lesbian* love story, Sheriff Rucker." She said 'lesbian' with the same venom most people reserve for necrophilia and child pornography. She turned to address the crowd and said, "This book is listed in the card catalogue under the 'romance' title and can be checked out by any age group."

"That's not exactly--"

She interrupted him with another prepared argument. "The children of this town do not need such prurient filth in their library. The children of this town..."

Nadine closed her eyes. She didn't literally feel a snap; it was more of a sagging. Like the weight of the day had finally broken a dam in her mind and her mouth was caught in the flow. She had read *Sparks of Love* and thought it was a gorgeous love story. It had made her cry. She owned her own copy and reread it as often as she could. Without even meaning to, she spoke aloud. "Oh, please."

Kate glanced at her and Nadine saw a brief 'what are you doing?' look on her face before she looked away. Sheriff Rucker, grateful for any distraction from Eleanor Nelson's rant, turned and scanned the crowd. He seemed to have a general idea of where the voice had come from, but couldn't pinpoint it. "Did someone have something to add?"

A tiny voice in the back of her mind told her to stay quiet. To sit still, let it pass, make a quiet - and anonymous - complaint to the library if the book was removed from the shelves.

If she hadn't spent the entire day battling the heat and a headache, she might have listened to the voice. If she hadn't had the confrontation with her father, if the whole situation with Kate hadn't been weighing on her mind all day, if and if and if. If she'd realized what it would lead to, maybe she would have had the wherewithal to keep quiet.

Instead, she gripped the back of the folding chair in front of her and pushed herself to her feet. While everyone else in the room turned to look at her, Kate tried as hard as she could to melt into her own metal folding chair. Nadine spoke directly to Eleanor. "Books don't make you gay, lady."

Rucker cleared his throat to get Nadine's attention and said, "I'm sorry, I don't recognize you. Your name would be...?"

"I'm Nadine Butler."

His eyes widened slightly. "The Pixie?" He smiled and slapped his palm on the podium. "Boy, you know, I-I listen to your show all the time."

"Thank you," she said perfunctorily. She turned to face Eleanor Nelson once more. "I've read *Sparks of Love* a couple of times and it's a beautiful book. Keeping it out of the library is close-minded and, and stupid. You don't have a problem with Stephen King books being on the shelves. Dismemberments, graphically bloody murders, talk about a reason to censor them. But I don't campaign to hide those books, I just don't read them. Banning books is the height of ignorance. I mean, think of what we'd be missing if *Huckleberry Finn* had been banned because some old fogie thought it was racist. Some of the greatest books of all time have been banned at one time or another."

"I am sure," Eleanor huffed, "that you are not comparing this... smut... to Mark Twain?"

"It's not smut, you dense woman," Nadine snapped. Rucker recoiled a bit before hiding a smile behind his palm. "It's a beautifully-written love story. Maybe if you'd had some love in your life, you'd recognize the difference."

Rucker coughed into his hand and had to turn around for a moment before he composed himself.

Nadine continued. "Reading books like this didn't make *me* gay. Books like that made me feel like I wasn't such a freak. It showed me there were other people going through the same thing I was. Taking this book out of the library would be the worst thing you could do. You'd be alienating teenagers, kids who are starting to feel different. They need books like this to let them know they aren't alone."

She looked around and realized she'd taken over the whole meeting. People were staring at her and she could feel her ears burning. She cleared her throat and smiled apologetically to Rucker. "Sorry." She smoothed the front of her trousers and took her seat again. She glanced at Kate and saw a look of sheer terror on her face. Nadine shook her head and faced forward again. "Nadine," Kate hissed.

"I had to say it," she hissed back.

"Nadine, you just came out."

Nadine blinked. She shook her head slowly and whispered, "What? No. Just because I read a book doesn't mean..." It hit her in the face like a backhanded slap. Every muscle in her face went slack and her eyes threatened the overlap her glasses. She slowly turned and realized everyone in the room was still staring at her. Not because of her rant, but because of one little fact she'd dropped into the middle of it without even thinking. Even the Sheriff looked dumbstruck.

She covered her face with both hands and sank down in her chair. "Oh, shit," she groaned through her fingers.

---

Rucker managed to get the meeting back on track without too much trouble. Nadine slipped from her seat and hurried to the door at the back of the room. She felt every eye on her, heard whispers as she passed. She tucked her hands under her arms, ducked her head and rushed out into the rapidly cooling night.

She stopped at the sidewalk and paced nervously between the cars parked at the curb. She paused and looked down at the harbor, barely visible past the police station. Sailboats were coming in to dock for the night, bobbing and weaving on the surface of the water. Behind her, the door of the hall swung open and closed like a whisper. She didn't turn to see who had joined her, but she smelled Kate's perfume a moment later.

"Nadine..."

"What the hell did I just do?" she whispered.

Kate walked around and faced Nadine. Her eyes were still wide and shocked, her lips trying to form words against an uncooperative tongue. Finally, she turned and looked at the harbor with her. The sun still offered a little bit of light, but the moon was already hanging low in the sky, flat and dull. Nadine chewed her bottom lip and said, "How many people do you suppose were in there?"

Kate turned around. "I don't think that matters, Dean." Nadine was so struck by the nickname that it took her a moment to remember that Kate was the one who had actually started using it. Miranda hadn't picked it up until about a year ago. Kate continued speaking. "There were about thirty people in there. Including Eleanor Nelson. It doesn't matter how many people are in there, by tomorrow it'll be all over the island."

Nadine made a low mewling sound at the back of her throat.

"It's not a disaster," Kate said. "You can still salvage it. Just say you were trying to prove a point."

"A point?"

Kate shrugged. "I don't know... 'This proves *anyone* could be gay! I might have been telling the truth, ha ha.' Something like that. I don't know, Nadine. I'm just saying that it's not the end of the world."

"I can't go back in there, Kate." She looked out at the harbor again and shook her head. "I-I'm... I'm just going to go home."

"Okay," Kate said. "But... Dean... the article..."

It took her a moment to realize what Kate was talking about. She frowned and then looked down at the notepad in Kate's hand. "The article," she whispered. "You're going to... report on what happened?"

"I'd have to, Dean. You think I could get away with ignoring something like that?"

"You would... do that to me?"

Kate stepped forward and reached for Nadine's arm. Nadine twisted away from her. Kate sighed. "I'm saying don't make me do it. If I leave it out, everyone in there will start to wonder what *I* have to hide."

"Out me to protect your own closet," Nadine scoffed.

"Go back in there!" Kate hissed. "Fix this while you still can! Before Eleanor Nelson can..."

"Stop! Eleanor Nelson could tell, what, twenty people? Maybe? You're sitting here admitting that you're going to put it in print. How many people will see *that*, Kate? You can blame Eleanor Nelson all you want; you're the one who is going to bury me."

A small plane went overhead and both of them looked up to follow its flight path, grateful for the distraction. It descended towards the small airport outside of town, but Nadine kept her eyes on the sky. She watched as tiny pinpricks of light began to appear in the velvet of the sky, as the moon's companions finally decided to come out and play. Her nostrils flared as she took a deep breath and looked back at Kate. "I'm going home."

Nadine turned around and started to walk away.

Kate, unable to just let her leave, called after her, "Can I come over later?"

"No," Nadine said without turning.

Kate watched until Nadine was around the corner before she went back into the town hall. No one looked up as she entered, just as they hadn't paid attention to her exit. After Nadine was out of their midst, they seemed to forget all about the commotion that had occurred just a few moments before.

She settled down to continue her notes and crossed her fingers. Maybe Nadine's slip wouldn't be as bad as she thought.

---

Nadine walked home slowly, letting the realization of what she'd done sink in. After all these years, she had come out of the fiercely protected closet with the slip of the tongue. She glanced into the windows of restaurants she passed, paused to watch a flock of birds fly across the darkening sky and watched as an old man hosed off the sidewalk in front of his convenience store. She walked past her apartment building to Spring Street and stood on the corner.

People drove by, a few of them waved and she always waved back. She couldn't shake the feeling that it was her last night as a free woman. If Kate was right, before long she would be the subject of stares and hushed conversation. She might as well enjoy her town while she could.

She walked towards the harbor, once again unconsciously retracing the path she and Kate had walked after their first date. She stuck her hands into her pockets and wandered for another half hour, taking in the sights, smelling the breeze of the water. It was her town, where she was born and probably where she would die. Unless she was forced out of town. She'd heard of it happening; towns where people hadn't actually run a person out, but they'd made it a very unfriendly place to stay.

Before long, she realized that the night had gotten colder and regretted not taking a coat to the meeting. When a cold gust blew across her body and right through her blouse, she finally turned to go home. Her legs ached, but the pain occupied her mind from thoughts of the future.

She left the lights off as she went into her apartment. She sat in front of the window and looked through the blinds at her little garden. The flower buds were covered with bags to protect them from the cold, but they hadn't been doing too hot to begin with. She had been thinking about trying a new fertilizer to see if that revitalized them any, but she had to wonder if it was her own hand that needed the change. Hadn't she read somewhere that flowers responded to the mood of their tender? If so, the poor little plants had never stood a chance.

The past few years, she'd been feeling the weight of being in the closet. She hated it, and not just because it caused her to commit to horrific work commitments just because she was 'single.' She lived in the public eye, so anything kept private should have been cherished. And yet it ate away at her. Now, it was out there. It was in the open, people knew.

And then there was her actual relationship with Kate. It had been a decent enough relationship over the years, but now she was aching for something more... just something *more.* At least the idea of talking with Kate about their relationship didn't seem so overwhelming now. If her outburst in the meeting had been like tearing off a band-aid, then talking things out with Kate would be like the sting of antiseptic. A little painful, but necessary.

She closed her blinds and undressed for bed, sitting on the couch for a long time in the dark. She heard Kate come home and slip silently up the stairs. It was the oddest sensation, hearing Kate up there and not saying hello. Not banging on the roof with a broom or sticking her head out the door to say "Come on down. Hang out for a while."

She followed Kate's footsteps against the floor. There were two light little bumps; she must have taken off her shoes, and then Kate went towards the bedroom. After a minute or two with no further movement, Nadine assumed her girlfriend had gone to sleep. "Sleep well, Katie," she whispered to the darkness around her. She stretched out on the couch, pulled her quilt over her head and closed her eyes.

5 -

Kate did, as Nadine suspected, go straight to bed as soon as she got home. But instead of sleeping, she merely lay on her back and stared at the ceiling. She laced her fingers together on her stomach and thought about the meeting. Everything in the meeting had been as boring as she'd suspected it would be; traffic concerns, questions about the city's new garbage pick-up schedule, a lively debate about recycling bins.

And Nadine came out of the closet.

God, if she was anyone else... if it had been anyone but Nadine... if infinity. The simple truth was that she wouldn't even hesitate to write about it if it had been anyone else. Finally, she threw off the covers and walked to her laptop. She'd once said she wouldn't do Nadine any favors. No special treatment in columns. She bit her bottom lip and began to write.

RECYCLING BINS TO BE ALLOWED AT CURB, LOCAL FIRE CHIEF RESIGNING

She covered the decisions and debates that had gone on, forced herself to sound excited about garbage handling, before she got to the library debate. She typed a few words, mentioned Nadine Butler's 'impassioned' plea to keep *Sparks of Love* on the shelf and then hesitated. She finally closed her eyes and said, "No one reads this damn column anyway." Reluctantly, she began to type.

"The big surprise was when local celebrity Nadine Butler came out as a lesbian during her retort in favor of keeping the book on the shelves. No agreement was reached on *Sparks of Love*'s future in the December Harbor Library."

The required 1,000 words later, she was still writing. She filled up two pages, hoping to bury the word lesbian with as much pointless blather as possible, and then sent the whole thing off in an email with a note that told her editor to revise it as he saw fit. She stared at the "Message Sent" page with a feeling of betrayal. "Et tu, Kate?" she murmured. No, that was hardly appropriate; at least Brutus had waited for someone else to strike first.

She leaned forward and ran her fingers through her hair. She scratched at her scalp with her fingernails and finally pushed her chair away from the desk. She shut off the laptop and walked back to bed.

She crawled under the covers and closed her eyes as a more appropriate quote came to mind. "To bed, to bed there's knocking at the gate! What's done cannot be undone. To bed, to bed, to bed..." She pressed her face into the pillow and slept.

---

The editor of the paper hadn't been at the town meeting, but several people had already called in to make sure he was aware of it. A few of the emails in his inbox that late night were letters to the editor about this 'stunning revelation.' When Kate Price's email arrived with her Town Hall report, he found himself smiling evilly, knowing how she'd tear into the story like the headliner it was. *You wanted front page, Price,* he thought. *Here's your ticket.* He clicked it open and felt his smile fade as he read through it. He sighed, opened a document and rewrote it. He sent an email back to Kate: "Nice try. I know the city beat is dull as dirt in a town like this, but next time actually go to the meeting. You missed the best stuff relying on word of mouth!" He printed out his version of Kate's story and carried it down the hall.

He had plenty of time to make the early edition.

---

*Front page of the Squire's Isle* Register, *Sunday Edition:*

POPULAR RADIO DJ COMES OUT!

Local Disc Jockey Nadine Butler revealed last night she is a lesbian

Last night's town hall meeting got an unexpected jolt of excitement when Nadine Butler, the KELF disc-jockey known as 'The Pixie,' came out of the closet. The surprise announcement came during yet another diatribe by Mrs. Eleanor Nelson, whose most recent attempts to ban the book *Sparks of Love* from the shelves at the Squire's Isle Public Library inspired the popular local celebrity to break her silence.

Ms. Butler could not be reached for comment.

There was no mention of the recycling decision and the Fire Chief's resignation was relegated to one sentence near the end of the column.

---

Due to a malfunctioning oven, a bout with insomnia and fate's cruel sense of humor, Amy Wellis was the first person in town to read the news. She picked up the paper as soon as it settled on the front stoop of Coffee Table Books and waved at the seventy-year-old 'paperboy' as he continued down the street. She locked the door behind her and unrolled the paper in search of coverage of the baseball game. She was sure that imbecile sports writer had gotten her name wrong, she just needed to confirm it before...

She froze when she flipped the paper over. The story was below the fold, but in big enough print to draw the eye. Her jaw dropped as she read over the article and then saw the byline. "Kate...?"

On their way to the ball field, Amy had broached the subject delicately. "Look, I'm not asking for me, just... trying to confirm a feeling. Is Nadine...?"

Kate had hesitated but finally admitted that yes, Nadine was gay. They'd been in a relationship for three years and they were both very much in the closet. How in the world could that conversation and this article be less than 24 hours apart?

"Kate, what did you do?" she breathed.

---

Tamara Butler put down the plate of eggs and brushed past her husband. "Did you want bacon today, dear?" she asked him softly. He didn't respond, but she hadn't really expected him to; Nathaniel Butler always wanted bacon, no matter what the doctor might say. Tamara had long since given up fighting him on it. As much as she hated it, a heart attack was the only thing that would convince him. And the shape he was in, any heart attack would be mild. So what? Some people needed that swift kick in the rear end.

She hummed as she laid the strips in the pan, moving about the kitchen as she waited for them to begin sizzling. When she returned to the table, she saw Nathaniel hadn't moved except to fold the paper under his hands and turn his head towards the window. "Honey-dear, your eggs are getting cold."

Nathaniel pushed away from the table without a word, turned on his heel and walked out of the kitchen. Tamara frowned and, as the bacon finally began to hiss at her from the stove, she read the large-print headline that had stopped her husband in his tracks. "Oh, Nadine. Nadine, my dear, now everyone knows..." She balled her hand into a fist and pressed it against her cheek as she began to cry silently.

---

Miranda Powell didn't want niceties, she didn't even really want the bare minimum of kindness. What she wanted was this woman out of her condo as soon as possible.

While the interloper was in the shower, Miranda went around the apartment and gathered the strewn clothes. She separated her bra from the stranger's - whatever her name was... Sara? Kara? - and tossed the pile at the bathroom door. She paused and fingered the collar of her robe. "Find, uh, finding everything all right?"

"Yeah!" the cheery voice said. "Can I use this toothbrush?"

"There's an unopened one in the drawer," Miranda replied. She thanked the dentist for always giving her a new one when she went to visit him. She pushed her limp, unwashed hair out of her face and grimaced at how many times her hand got stuck in the strands. She tried to loosen some of the rat's nest her hair had become in the night. The ringlets that had looked so wonderful yesterday were now obstacles for her to unravel in the shower... if she ever made it.

There was a thump at the front door and she checked her watch. *Damn it, you strange person, get out of my bathroom!* She walked to the front door and glanced through the peephole to make sure it was indeed the paperboy. She spotted his back disappearing through the gate and unlocked the door. The paper was resting neatly on her welcome mat and she snatched it up before anyone could see her robe or, even worse, her hair.

She shut the door just as Sara/Kara came out of the bathroom. She was wearing nothing but an open robe, shamelessly flaunting her body in the house of a total stranger. She ran her hands through her still-wet hair, almost mockingly, and said, "Do you have any coffee?"

Miranda turned the paper over and over in her hands. "Uh, no... no. I, uh, actually have to get to work."

"On Sunday? What are you, like, a priest or something?"

This said without a hint of irony. Miranda almost asked if the girl had misunderstood some of the 'oh, my God's that she had yelled the night before but instead shook her head. "Nope. Just busy." She walked towards the kitchen and paused. "Look, I don't want to sound rude, but... what's your name?"

"Jennifer," the girl said without a hint of embarrassment.

Miranda blinked. *Good God, I must have been* blitzed *last night...* She nodded and said, "Okay, Jennifer, sorry... but... could you get dressed and... go?"

"Sure, no problem," the girl said. She turned and went towards the bathroom to gather her clothes.

"That was easy," Miranda said. As she pulled the rubber band off her paper, she idly wondered how many one night stands this girl had taken part in. College student, away from school for the weekend. God, she probably wasn't even gay. Would go back to school with a great story about how she'd finally 'experimented.' It would explain some of her ineptitude... Miranda smirked as she scanned the main headline of the paper.

Jennifer came out of the bedroom as Miranda was preparing to look at the second half of the front page. Miranda pushed the paper aside and turned to face the girl. God, she looked young. *College-age*, she reminded herself. *No matter how young she looks, she's at least college-age.*

The girl had found the uniform shirt she'd been wearing at the renaissance faire and was fiddling with the catches on her trousers. Miranda glanced at the clock and struggled to find something to say. Finally, she said, "Do you need a ride back to the park?"

"Nah, my friends have a place near here. I was looking forward to seeing some of the island, anyway, so I'll just sightsee for a while, have someone drop me by my car later." She leaned across the counter and forced a good-bye kiss from Miranda. "I had a great time."

"Yeah," Miranda said. She put the paper back down. "Me too."

She waited until Jennifer had left before she pushed away from the counter. She started the coffee and headed into the bathroom to take her shower. With her hair to contend with, the coffee would be done by the time she finished.

---

Kate threw on a t-shirt and boxer shorts as she cursed at the bare walls of her apartment. "Son of a whore, fucker, bitch-ass..." She threw open the door of her apartment and stormed downstairs as she started creating new curse words to describe just what she thought of her editor. She tried the door on Nadine's apartment and found it locked.

She knocked just under the gold number 4 and said, "Dean? Dean, it's me, it's Kate." She looked down and scanned the ground for signs of a newspaper. Did Nadine get the Sunday paper delivered? Had she already picked it up and read the article? Did she think that Kate had... She redoubled her efforts. "Nadine!"

A door opened behind her and she turned as if she'd been caught trying to break in. A woman Kate had seen several times tested to make sure the door was locked and slipped out of the foyer without a second look towards Nadine's apartment door. A heavy book bag hung from the woman's right hand, a cell phone firmly fixed between her left hand and her ear.

Kate turned back to the door and pressed her forehead against the cool, blue wood. She closed her eyes and lightly slapped her palm against the door frame. "Nadine... Nadine, open the door. Please, Nadine."

---

Poodle, the big brown mutt he'd rescued from the pound, stood proudly in front of his easy chair. His club-like paws were spread, his muscles coiled, ready to spring in either direction depending on where Hoagie went. Hoagie scratched the dog on his block of a head and shuffled his feet across the living room carpet. Poodle followed, wagging his tail and keeping his eye fixed on Hoagie's hand lest a treat appear there.

The gnawed- and peed-upon remains of the newspaper lay on the floor in front of his easy chair. Poodle circled Hoagie and sat in front of his treasure. He planted himself next to it, chuffed loudly and looked up at Hoagie as if expecting a reward.

Hoagie gently pushed the dog's snout to one side as he dropped into his seat. "If you ate the sports section again, you're going back to the pound. And I'm tellin' them you got rabies." Poodle grunted and huffed, sending a stream of saliva onto the sleeve of Hoagie's robe. "Lovely. Dumbass." He sighed and held the paper by its dry corners.

When it fell open, he spotted the word 'lesbian' and locked onto it like a homing pigeon. "KELF... what the hell?" Seeing it was foolish to try and fold the paper to read it, he leaned forward and spread it out on the floor in front of him. Poodle, of course, rose from his haunches and moved to piddle on the laid-out paper as he had been trained. Hoagie pushed the dog away again and tried to read the truly yellow journalism. "Lesbian, popular radio disc jockey came... "Nadine...? *Nadine*?!" He wrapped his beefy fingers around his chin and leaned back in his chair.

Nadine was a lesbo? Hol-ee shit. He rubbed his stubble for a moment and pictured the Pixie with a certain famous actress, chuckled to himself and bent down to read the rest of the article.

He was so engrossed that he didn't notice the dog's shadow until the article was covered with another coat. Hoagie groaned and shoved the dog away. Poodle whimpered and went into the kitchen with his mighty shoulders slumped. He didn't know why his master was getting so angry. The paper was on the floor! What was a poor housebroken mutt to do?

---

After a shower and a twenty minute battle, Miranda came out of the bathroom with her blonde hair glistening and restored to its natural state. She had combed it out of her face and dressed in a pair of white cotton pajamas that felt wonderful against her skin. It finally felt like a brand-new day. Everything had been washed away; the fair, the one night stand with... God, what was her name? Jennifer? No, something... Kara? It didn't matter. It was over, she was clean, her hair was normal and so was her life. She poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the counter.

She scanned the articles and her eyes were immediately drawn to the letters KELF. "Hey, front page," she said. She laid the paper out, folded it and turned it around in her lap to read the below-the-fold article.

She made it halfway through the headline before her face went pale and she was groping for the telephone.

---

A peacock would have said it was as proud as Eleanor Nelson that bright winter morning. She wore her best Sunday suit, had her hair up in a lovely bun and had even broken out her mother's favorite broach. She all but strutted into the Senior Ladies Sunday School classroom, her dress flaring with each step, her knowing smirk hidden below the brim of a white hat adorned with fancy flowers.

She had been up for hours, detailing how she would drop the little bombshell she'd been holding onto all night. "Well, ladies, I suppose we'll *all* have to be careful. Some of *those people* are on the island... what, haven't you *heard*?"

She took her regular seat, balanced her handbag on her thighs... and was crushed when she discovered that her juicy bit of gossip had already made the rounds all over town. It was already in the newspaper for goodness sake!

Getting scooped ruined Eleanor's entire weekend.

---

Nadine was wide awake by the time the newspaper thumped against her front door. She opened the door a crack, already crouching, and snatched the paper as if she expected an attack. She slammed the door, put the chain back on and carried the newspaper to the couch. She dropped it on the coffee table and stared at the exposed REGI of the paper's name.

She finally picked it up and unfolded it in search of Kate's column. The paper fell open and the headline caught her eye. Lesbian. Nadine Butler. KELF. By Kate Price. "Damn you, Kate," she hissed. She ripped the paper in half and threw both halves down. The rage was tempered by the fact that several pages of newsprint aren't very aerodynamic; they fluttered uselessly to the floor at her feet.

She kicked aside the page that had landed on her left foot and went into the bathroom. She turned the faucets and stood by the tub to undress. When she was naked, she climbed over the edge despite the fact the tub was only half-full and sat down. The water rose over her stomach and she sank lower until she felt it slip like a gloved hand over her breasts. The breasts Kate had licked and nibbled less than twelve hours ago.

She reached up and stopped the faucet before the tub overflowed, lounging, letting her body go weightless. Her head and shoulders were the only thing above water and she contemplated sinking down completely. See how long she could hold her breath. Watch bubbles rise from her tear ducts. "Crying air," she used to call it.

From the front of the apartment, she heard Kate pounding and pleading at the front door. She thought about plugging her ears, but instead pulled her glasses off and laid them on the edge of the tub. She took a deep breath, lifted her feet from the opposite end of the tub and slowly sank under the water.

The sound of Kate's pleas faded into a hollow throbbing noise. The world transformed into a weepy blue haze. She ignored everything; her thoughts, the chill of the water and the unmistakable sound of Kate still calling from the front door. All she noticed were the bubbles rising up from either side of her nose.

Crying air.

---

Kate sat with her back against the door, hands clasped behind her neck and head bowed. She was waiting, half-hoping, for the door behind her to open and send her sprawling. It was the least she deserved for what she'd done. When she heard footsteps in the foyer, she assumed it was the student across the hall returning for something and didn't bother looking up. The footsteps paused directly in front of her and a woman said, "Oh."

Kate looked up. The blonde woman was standing just inside the front door, pulling off her sunglasses and looking down at her. Kate cleared her throat and said, "Can I help you?"

"My name is Miranda Powell. I'm..."

"Nadine's boss," Kate said. She pushed herself to her feet. She brushed off her rear end with one hand while presenting the other to Miranda. "I'm Kate Price, the..."

"The reporter," Miranda said.

The way she said it left no doubt in Kate's mind that she'd seen the article. She blushed and looked away, ashamed.

Miranda glanced at the door. "Is she home?"

"If she is, she's not answering for me. Not that I blame her." She looked over her shoulder at the door and then forced a smile to Miranda. "You're more than welcome to try. I have to go murder my editor."

"For what? If... you don't mind me asking..."

"He completely rewrote my article. He..." She paused and said, "You... read the article, right? You didn't actually think..." She didn't know why what this stranger thought mattered so much, but she had to make sure it was clear. "I would *never* do that to Nadine. Not for some stupid column. You have to understand that."

Miranda opened her mouth to speak, but then closed her mouth. She shrugged and shook her head. "I... don't know you enough to answer that."

Kate nodded and finally stepped to one side. "Well, I-I don't know if she'll answer you, but I think you'd probably have a better shot if I'm not here. It was nice meeting you, Ms. Powell."

Kate stepped around Miranda and left the foyer. As the front door swung closed, Kate glanced back at the tall, beautiful blonde who had been Nadine's boss for the past five years. Her initial thought - "Why didn't Nadine ever mention how gorgeous she is?" - was quickly followed up with the realization of why Nadine had never brought up her gorgeous boss.

She smiled sadly and headed for her car. "Yeah," she whispered. "I bet you *will* have better luck than I did..."

---

*This woman is Nadine's girlfriend,* flashed across Miranda's mind before she could silence it. She was gorgeous, even dressed as she was in sweats and without make-up; thin, high cheekbones that most women would kill for, luscious, dark auburn hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her eyes flashed hazel in the dim light of the foyer and she looked like she was on the verge of tears. After a few short words, the woman - Kate Price, as it turned out, the writer of that wretched column - left her alone.

She hesitantly knocked on Nadine's apartment door and waited for sounds of movement within. "Nadine? It's Miranda Powell. Are you in there? We need to talk." She waited for a reply and then added, "Kate isn't here."

There was a pause and then the click of a latch. The door swung open wide enough for Nadine to peek through and confirm she was really alone.

The door closed and Miranda heard the rasp of a chain being disengaged. When the door opened enough, the crack was just barely wide enough for Miranda to slip inside. "Come in. Hurry."

Miranda slipped through the crack and heard the door slam as soon as she was inside. The chain was reengaged and Nadine stepped into view. She was wrapped in a robe that dwarfed her, made her look ten years younger. She looked like a little girl who had just gotten out of a bubble bath. Her hair was still wet from the shower or bath and she was trembling. The fact that she wasn't wearing her glasses added to the image of youth; Miranda had never seen her without them. It was as shocking as if she'd answered the door completely naked.

Nadine went to the couch and began clearing the debris from the cushions. Miranda saw the destroyed morning edition on the floor and ignored it. "Sorry about... mess...," Nadine said. She tucked a wet strand of hair behind her ear, started to sit and then looked at Miranda. "I take it you read the article."

"Yeah. I have to say I was... I was kind of shocked by it."

"*You* were?" Nadine scoffed. She took a seat and pressed the halves of her robe between her knees.

Miranda sat on the opposite side of the couch and was about to ask how it had happened when Nadine started speaking. She explained how the entire thing had happened, how she had let the wrong words slip and how she'd been in a daze ever since. When she finished, she looked at Miranda. "I suppose you've been talking with Mr. Dugan..."

Miranda nodded. "He's not happy. But he can't exactly fire you just because you're a lesbian. It doesn't affect your work." Nadine nodded. "You'll have to be on eggshells for a while, but..." She chewed her bottom lip. "It's a small town, Dean. It seems like the end of the world now, but in two weeks someone will find a bottle of Rogaine in Sheriff Rucker's desk drawer and your sexual preference will be yesterday's news. I just wanted to stop by and make sure you knew that nothing was going to change at the station."

Nadine nodded gratefully. "Thanks. Thank you, Miranda." She looked on the verge of tears and Miranda looked away.

"So, this is your place..."

"Don't get jealous; I'm not interested in selling."

Miranda smirked. "Well, I'm not going to force you if you don't want to leave."

Nadine nodded and suddenly said, "Oh, God! The... t-the Squire Days! I'm supposed to broadcast from..." She turned to Miranda with wide, fearful eyes. "I can't. Miranda, please, tell me I don't..."

"It's okay," Miranda interrupted. "I figured you wouldn't be up to it, so I asked Ben to cover you."

Nadine exhaled and pushed a stray hair out of her face. Miranda lifted her hand to touch her face, but, unsure where the line of appropriateness had been drawn, let it drop back to her lap. She chewed her lip and said, "I should probably go..."

"Right. Of course. Th-thank you for coming by to make sure I was..."

"Sure, sure."

They went to the door, Miranda trailing behind Nadine slightly. Before Nadine disengaged the locks, she turned and suddenly wrapped her arms around Miranda. Miranda, unsure what the proper etiquette was, patted Nadine on the back and waited for the hug to end. She smelled like soap and water, so she couldn't possibly smell sexy... right? And of course, there was the press of body against body and the realization Nadine was almost definitely not wearing anything under that robe...

Miranda kicked herself. *God, I've really been leaning on the 'she wouldn't be receptive' excuse for ages. Now that I know she *might* be receptive, it's like I got the rug pulled out from under me.*

Nadine retreated before Miranda's thoughts could go any further, swiping at her eyes with both hands. "Ugh, look at me." She sniffled and regained her composure. "Thank you for coming by, Miranda. No matter what else happens, I'll... I'll remember that you were kind to me."

Miranda nodded and waited as the locks and chain were pulled back. She stepped into the foyer and turned back. "Don't worry, Nadine. I'm sure everything will work out fine. Just you wait."

Nadine nodded, but was obviously unconvinced. "Thanks," she said as she shut the door. "Thanks for trying to make me feel better."

---

Tourists still came to the island. The ferry arrived and deposited its current quota of Midwesterners oblivious to the scandal. The people and their cameras flowed onto the island like lemmings. They were the children walking into the middle of a fight between their parents. The whispers grew more hushed, the attitudes shifted ever-so-slightly, but the tension was still there, just under the surface.

Repeat visitors noticed that the locals seemed subdued. They were slightly disappointed that their memories of a bright and friendly island were fading in the harsh light of reality. Last time, they were sure, locals had greeted strangers with a smile and welcomed them in loud, booming voices. Now they huddled amongst themselves, talking quietly and ending conversations as soon as a tourist came within earshot. The visitors all chalked it up to romanticizing memories and went on with their itineraries.

Still, nothing else really changed. The tourists snapped their pictures, went whale-watching and patiently waited for the next ferry to take them back to the mainland as they always had.

One of the tourists would later tell a friend, "It was the weirdest thing I've ever felt. It was like one of those old horror movies where you come across a small town, everyone's secretive, and then you find out there's an alien spaceship buried under the local diner. I'm just glad to be out of that place."

On the island, no one dared come out too strongly for either side. If they defended Nadine Butler too strongly, suspicions would begin to rise that they themselves were gay. But if they demonized her, they were worried about being slapped with the labels of intolerant and homophobic.

A few people did raise their voices without caring what anyone else thought. Eleanor Nelson demanded they take Nadine off the air immediately and began quietly investigating whether they could legally kick her off the island entirely. "I mean," she huffed to her tea group, "there *must* be some kind of provision in the island charter..." Most of her inquiries were to Sheriff Rucker, who by the end of Sunday afternoon had promised to use any 'exile clause' he found to get rid of Eleanor herself.

Nathaniel Butler spoke to any and all who would listen that he didn't know what had happened to his daughter, but assured them that it was nothing he'd done. If anything, he had tried to make sure she stayed on the right path, not that she'd listened, not that any kid ever did. If his wife hadn't been standing next to him, he most likely would have denied being related to her at all. Tamara, on the other hand, kept her back to the main area of the store so the customers wouldn't notice that she was crying.

Kate demanded an explanation as to why her article had been so significantly changed. Her boss reamed her about writing articles people would want to read. She argued that she should have a say over the kinds of things that went with her by-line. Her boss countered with a suggestion that she be moved to the obituary pages. Kate finally gave in. After all, what the hell good would a retraction do now? She spent the day at her desk, staring at her Far Side calendar, wishing she could bring herself to laugh.

Miranda spent most of Sunday on the phone with Thomas Dugan defending Nadine and her choice to keep her on staff. He told her that he owned the station and could fire them both if necessary. She reminded him that Nadine could sue him for wrongful termination and end up owning the station. A lot of posturing, a lot of threats and Dugan finally relented and "decided" to let Nadine stay on. For the time being.

Miranda actually had to thank him before she hung up and then resisted the urge to take another shower. Speaking with Thomas Dugan felt dirtier than sleeping with a ditzy twenty-year-old whose name she didn't even remember. No, wait, her name had been Jessica. She rubbed her forehead and decided the time had come to stop drinking at Squire Days.

Nadine spent the night in the bathtub. She wore a pair of boxer shorts and a tank top, left the bath drained, and just stared at the tile wall. She didn't want to think. She didn't want to make a decision or speak lest something else come out. "Hello, how are you today, I'm doing fine, like I was on the day I stole ten dollars from my Mom's purse when I was seven."

At eight pm, Kate resumed her vigil outside Nadine's apartment door. She left at ten, dragging herself up the stairs and into bed.

If she'd stayed twenty more minutes, she would have prevented the first act of vandalism.

6 -

The crick in her neck woke Nadine around eight Monday morning. She sat up stiffly and rubbed the soreness in her neck away, searched for her glasses and checked the clock on the wall. She stood up and stretched, groaning as her bones popped loudly, and undressed. She dumped her clothes on the closed toilet seat, pulled the curtain and turned on the shower.

She stood still under the spray and let the cold water assault her face. She opened and closed her mouth several times, ran her hands through her hair without bothering to shampoo it and finally turned off the spray when her fingertips had turned to prunes. She left her dirty clothes in the bathroom and walked dripping into the bedroom where she and Kate had so recently made love (for the last time?).

She pushed thoughts of Kate out of her mind and opened her closet. Miranda had rescued her from working Squire Days, but she still had to do her radio show. She dressed in a pair of old jeans and a ragged Dash Warren concert t-shirt.

She went to the living room and hazarded a peek through the blinds. There were no reporters in the courtyard (Kate had already said everything they needed) and there were no protesters marching back and forth in the street. If she didn't know better, she would've said it was a normal day. She released the blinds and stepped back. Okay. Maybe it wasn't as bad as she thought. It would be a tempest in a teapot, already blown over after yesterday.

She took a deep breath and went to the front door. Maybe everything would be all right after all.

As the door swung open, she was aware of an incongruous flash of white from the corner of her eye. Her front door, once a solid, beautiful royal blue, was now marred by bold, angry strokes of white paint.

"DIKE"

Four letters, stretching from one side of the door to the other, huddled tightly together to fit the misspelled word between her door jams. She stared at it for a moment, trembling hand on the doorknob, and felt something twist inside of her. It was anger, it was frustration, and most of all it was the fact that someone had defaced her home. It was the first place she'd lived by herself, the first place she paid for herself. And some ignorant hate-monger had violated it.

She took a deep breath, held it, and finally stepped out into the foyer. She forced her hand to close the door quietly and stepped away without looking at the hateful graffiti. She walked barefoot out the back door of the foyer and towards the complex's swimming pool.

The pool was closed up for the winter behind a low black gate, the door latched with a heavy padlock. Rather than circling the entire perimeter of the fence, she stepped onto a brick ledge and jumped over. She rounded the lip of the pool and glanced down at the thin layer of half-frozen, scummy water at the bottom.

She remembered a day last summer, it had to have been ninety degrees, when she and Kate had taken advantage of the pool. Crystal-clear water, bright sun and playing Marco Polo and splashing each other in defense against the sun beating down on their shoulders. There had been a lull, no one else in the pool and no one else in the courtyard, when Kate had kissed her.

That day had been so perfect. The water, the sky, the heat on her face and the chill on her toes and a slippery-wet Kate in her arms. Now, the sky was gray, the wind was howling and the pool was filled with black grime and piles of trash had accumulated in the far corners. She shuddered at how quickly things could change and jumped the other side of the fence.

The manager's office was a small brick building at the back of the complex. Nadine followed the concrete path and knocked lightly on the door. Through the half-circle of glass set at eye level, she saw the large red cotton ball of Miss Wozniak's hair as it bobbed away from her desk.

The door swung open and revealed an elderly Jewish woman looking up at her. She was wearing her typical outfit; a red vest, red trousers and a flowered blouse with a flared collar. She lifted the glasses that hung on a chain around her neck, aimed the frames at Nadine's face and tutted in recognition before stepping back and wandering back into the office.

"You want something?" the woman said over her shoulder. "People always want something if they come here before rent time. Never early, not with their rent checks."

Nadine cleared her throat and stepped into the peppermint-scented office. A pegboard covered with a second skin of notices and Post-its decorated the wall directly in front of the door. The desk held a computer, but the typewriter was front and center, obviously where the landlady pounded out all of her "TO THE RESIDENTS" notices. Nadine said, "Miss Wozniak, I was... wondering if, uh..."

"All day, the girl thinks she has." She rounded the back of her desk and leaned forward. She cocked her hip and made a 'get on with it' motion with one hand.

"When Mr. Alonzo painted the doors last year... d-do you think he still has some of that paint left over?"

"You chip the door or something? Kick it in?"

"No," Nadine said. "It was... i-it was vandalized."

Miss Wozniak sighed, put a hand to her forehead and uttered a string of curse words in Yiddish. She turned around and waddled back to her desk. "Little *pupiks*. Ought to be strung up by their toes and hit with sticks. Like that piñata." She looked at Nadine and squinted. "Are you Mexican? Gonna be offended about piñata?"

"No," Nadine said. "N-no, I'd... trust me, I'd be the first one in line with the stick."

Miss Wozniak nodded and clapped her hands together. "Okay. I'm going to fill out a work order for you..."

"No, that's..." She cleared her throat. "If I could just get a can of paint from the custodian's shack, I'd rather do it myself."

The tiny woman looked at Nadine over her glasses. "You don't have to, dear. Custodial work is part of what you're paying for with your rent, you know."

Nadine nodded. "I know." The truth was, the thought of Mr. Alonzo seeing that word on her door... "I know. I don't mind doing it myself."

Miss Wozniak held up her hands and said, "All right. Okay. You want to save me having to call Alonzo, fine by me." She opened the drawer and withdrew a key ring. "The paint cans are on the bottom shelf. Royal blue, but yeah, you know, you know."

Nadine had to step forward to retrieve the key. She glanced down and saw the Sunday paper on Miss Wozniak's blotter, open to the crossword puzzle. The puzzle was at the back, but of course she had to have seen the front page. When Nadine didn't pull her hand back, Miss Wozniak followed her gaze and made a rude noise at the back of her throat. "Wouldn't line the birdie cage with that trash," she said as she thrust the keys into Nadine's hand. "Don't pay any attention to them people, none at all. Useless, is what those people are, just useless." She closed Nadine's fingers around the keys and her voice softened. "Go take care of your door, dear."

"Thank you," Nadine said quietly. "I'll bring the keys back... a-and the paint."

"Good, good," the manager said. She moved to sit down and Nadine headed for the door. She was about to leave the office when Miss Wozniak suddenly said, "My daughter is gay, you know."

Nadine had her hand on the door knob and turned, eyes wide behind her glasses. "W-what?"

"My daughter. Lovely girl. Gay." She made air quotes and said, "I think they say she's one of those 'lipstick lesbians.' Very attractive. I'm just saying." She held her hands out and shook her head.

"Does she... live on the island?"

"Alaska. Just around the corner, dear! Think about it! I'm not saying you have to marry her, but I would never charge my own daughter rent, wink-wink." She leaned back in her chair and waved at the door. "Go! Paint your door!"

Nadine left the manager's office and closed the door behind her. Alone on the walkway, she actually surprised herself by laughing at the landlady's attempts. Spray-painting hooligans aside, she would at least be able to look back fondly on Miss Wozniak trying to hook her daughter up.

She crossed the lawn to the tiny custodial shack and found the appropriate key on Miss Wozniak's key ring. Inside, behind a sea of cobwebs and a stack of unused sheetrock scraps, she found a can of royal blue paint. On a second, higher shelf she found some paintbrushes that weren't stiff as a board and stuck one in her jeans pocket.

She stopped at the office to drop off the key and had to accept Amanda Wozniak's telephone number - "Just in case!" - before the landlady let her leave. She was still chuckling as she walked back into the foyer, looking down at the telephone number with an Alaska area code as she returned to her apartment.

When she looked up, she realized that her door had not gone unnoticed. Kate was standing in front of the door like a sentry, hands to her side and clenched into fists. Nadine was about to back away and put off a confrontation, but she decided she would have to face Kate sooner or later. She put the paint can down and said, "Nice, huh?"

Kate's shoulders jumped slightly at the sound of her voice, but she didn't turn around.

Nadine crossed her arms and said, "D-I-K-E. You'd think if someone had managed to go this far with their hate, they'd at least bother to learn the correct spelling." Kate still didn't answer, so Nadine continued, "I only got one paintbrush from the shed, but you're welcome to lend a hand." She stepped up next to Kate and finally looked at her. She was shocked to see tears flowing down Kate's cheeks, her face red with rage. "Kate...?"

Kate finally looked at her, eyes wide and haunted. She shook her head back and forth before she finally said, "I'm so, so sorry, Nadine. I'm... I'm sorry." She pushed Nadine aside and ran up the stairs to her apartment. Nadine watched her go, shocked into silence, and winced when she heard the door slam.

Part of her wanted to run upstairs, grab Kate and hold her. But another, bigger part of her was glad that Kate was suffering, too, after that damned article. She sighed and knelt down to pop the lid on paint can. Let her suffer alone for a while, she decided. She dipped the brush into the paint can, took one last look at the words scrawled on her front door and went to work covering it up.

---

Miranda hadn't gotten any sleep the night before. Every time she ended one call, the phone would ring again and she'd speak to an advertiser, one of the other DJs or Thomas Dugan calling to yell at her some more. No, she hadn't known Nadine was gay. No, she didn't think it should have any bearing on her job. Yes, she knew what the public reaction would be. No, she didn't think she would reconsider.

The hardest part of the situation was dealing with the other DJs. Willa, fine and church-going Willa, found the whole thing scandalous, but promised not to say anything on the air against Nadine. Miranda thought it was important that the station show a united front and Willa agreed.

Hoagie, the one she was the most concerned about, seemed uncomfortable but willing to go along with it. He hesitantly asked if he needed to act differently around Nadine, but Miranda assured him there would be no call for that. By the time seven o'clock rolled around, she had already been up for two and a half hours fielding calls. She changed into a fresh outfit and headed out to her car.

Work, she thought. Where a thousand memos were probably awaiting a return call. She sat behind the wheel of her car for a moment and took a deep breath.

She would have to be an idiot not to realize the... what, irony? Here she was, in the middle of a maelstrom of words like lesbian and scandal and homophobia. There had been nights when she had woken up screaming from nightmares about this exact situation, but about herself, her own sexuality. The fact that it was all coming down on Nadine... poor, sweet Nadine, who had never hurt anyone in her life. It seemed so unfair.

Staring at the trellis that marked the end of her driveway, she made a decision. So long as she was in charge, no one was going to turn against Nadine. Dugan wanted her fired, but Miranda flat-out refused without a damn good reason. Willa Lamb, the morning DJ, was planning to call in sick to work until Nadine was let go, Miranda assured Willa that *she* would be fired before Nadine.

If anyone on the island wanted to stop listening to the station... well, Miranda had never forced them to tune in anyway. The station would survive losing a few homophobic listeners. There were always the tourists, a steady stream of new listeners who arrived fresh and unsullied every afternoon.

Her mind made up, she checked her rear view mirror and finally backed out of the driveway. She was being spared her worst nightmare only because someone else - someone she truly cared for - was taking the bullet for her. The least she could do was catch some of the shrapnel.

---

Nadine's t-shirt and jeans were speckled with blue paint by the time offensive four letters had been obliterated. She gave the door an extra coat just to make sure no ghosts would appear before sealing up the can and looking up at Kate's door. She bit her lip and finally trudged up the stairs like a kid being sent to bed without supper.

She stared at the gold number five and then finally took that last fateful step forward. She knocked lightly just under the peephole and then stepped back so Kate could see her.

After a short delay, the door swung open and Kate looked out from her dark apartment. Nadine looked down and spoke to Kate's sneakers. "I was wondering if I could borrow your car because I'm not really looking forward to riding my bike across town with everyone... staring at me and... if you don't want me to, that's fine, I can..."

"Here," Kate said.

Nadine looked up and saw the keys dangling from Kate's hand. She took them and finally looked into Kate's red eyes. Kate, seeing an opening, said, "Dean, you have to understand, it wasn't me, it was the editor. I had to say *something* about it and I buried it in the back and I was sure no one would even *read* the damn thing and... and my editor just slaughtered the entire damn thing and I... when I saw it I... Nadine... please..."

"I know you'd never have done that to me on purpose," Nadine said quietly. "But my worst nightmare has your byline underneath it. I can't think past that right now. I'm sorry, Kate."

Kate nodded and leaned against the door. "Have a good day, Nadine."

"You too," Nadine said softly. She turned and practically flew down the stairs, eager to get outside before she let the tears come. She walked through the courtyard, past her hooded flowers, and brought her hand up to wipe the tears off her cheeks.

She found Kate's car in the parking lot that ran alongside the apartment building. She got in, took a moment to familiarize herself with the set-up and started the engine. The radio came to life, tuned to KELF. Willa Lamb's voice came from the speakers. "...another call. You're on with Willa and Simon."

"Yeah, I just wanna say I think this Pixie thing is sick. I'll tell ya another thing, I'm turning the radio off when you guys leave and I ain't turning it back on until Hoagie comes on. That's what I wanna say."

"That's wonderful," Willa said. "Could we play a song for you?"

"Yeah, could I hear--"

"No," Willa said. She disconnected the call and sighed into the mic. "How many different ways can we say it, Simon? Nadine Butler is not here. She cannot respond to any of your complaints, and probably wouldn't dignify them with a response if she were. Can we *please* focus on something we *can* address? The weather? The ferry schedule? Anything. Please. Okay. Next caller...?"

Nadine punched the button angrily and silenced her co-worker's voice. Great. She wondered how she would get through a six-hour shift - a show that dealt mostly with called-in requests - without going completely bonkers. She forced her mind to focus on the road, the other drivers, everything that she could mostly ignore when she was on her bicycle.

As she turned towards the radio station, she was shocked to see a crowd of eight or ten people milling about on the sidewalk. They seemed to be congregating around the bicycle rack, so she managed to slip past them without causing any alarm or uproar. As she drove past, she spotted Miranda standing at the door trying to corral them all. They locked eyes as Nadine drove past and Miranda started down the sidewalk in pursuit.

She pulled Kate's car into the parking lot next to the station, driving up the gentle slope to the second level before she climbed out. Miranda caught up with her a few moments later and said, "Nadine. Are you sure you want to come in today? We'd certainly..."

"I'm not going to let them run me off, Miranda," Nadine interrupted. "So I'll stick to the play list for once. I'm fine. Trust me."

"Okay," Miranda said. She looked over her shoulder to make sure she hadn't been followed and said, "Okay, come on. There's a back door you can use." She put her hand on Nadine's shoulder and shuffled her off towards the back of the station.

"Who are those people?"

"'Concerned citizens' from the local churches," Miranda said, her voice dripping scorn. "They showed up about half an hour ago, waiting for you to show up."

"You... don't think they would have..."

"Hurt you?" Miranda said. "No. They seemed like they would've been happy to just yell and wave their signs in your face if you'd shown up."

"No, I mean... I meant, do you think they would have painted something on my door?"

Miranda stopped and turned Nadine to look at her. "What are you talking about?"

"It's nothing. When I woke up this morning, there was... a word... painted on my door."

"I hate to guess."

Nadine winced and looked away. "Dyke. Misspelled, of course."

"Yeah, well, ignorance is all-encompassing."

Nadine actually smiled at that and waited for Miranda to unlock the back door of the station. She frowned and said, "Isn't this the emergency exit?"

Miranda pushed the door open and shrugged. "If this doesn't count as an emergency, what does?"

Nadine smiled and they stepped into the warm air of a short, dark hallway. Miranda locked the door behind them, in case any enterprising protester realized where they had gotten in. "Getting you out will be the real problem. If they were coordinated to be here right when your show was set to begin, they have to know when it ends. You may have to stay until they give up and go home."

"Great," Nadine murmured. "A prisoner in my own workplace."

"Hey, you have a desk. At least you'll finally get to use it."

Nadine rolled her eyes and they walked into the bullpen. Willa and Simon were already leaving the booth, their good-bye playing from speakers in the ceiling and the first batch of songs set to play while Nadine got situated. They paused at the door with their coats draped over their arms, watching as the pariah walked down the row of cubicles. Nadine offered a weak smile. "Hey, guys. Willa, thanks for sticking up for--"

"The calls were interrupting my show," Willa interrupted. "I, for one, don't care one way or another *what* you do." She turned and walked to the stairs. Simon watched her go, looked at Miranda and Nadine and merely shrugged. He waved good-bye as he headed to the ground floor behind his co-host.

Nadine looked down and closed her eyes, trying to hide the hurt of what Willa had said. Miranda put a hand on her shoulder and said, "Nadine... have you ever heard Simon speak when he was off the air?"

Nadine blinked and looked up. "What? Sure, he... talked to me..." She frowned, her voice trailing off as she looked at the man's back. "You know, I don't think I can remember a time. You hired him. He must have spoken in the interview."

Miranda shook her head. "I read his resume and I hired him from a tape. You know, the more I think about it, the more I think I have never heard him speak in person."

Nadine smiled and put her hand on Miranda's arm. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"I didn't think about it for a whole five seconds. Thank you."

Miranda smiled and said, "It was entirely self-serving. I don't know what song Willa and Simon started, so you might be giving me dead air right now. Go. Get in the booth. Get to work."

Nadine offered a mock salute and headed for the booth. From the small speakers over the door, she could hear "A Day in the Life" by the Beatles. She stopped at the door and looked around until she spotted Billy by the water cooler. "Billy," she said, desperate for a bit of normalcy in her day, pleading for him to be the same, sweet Billy with the encyclopedic time-clock in his head. "How much longer on this song?"

He looked at her with his plaintive eyes, glanced towards the ceiling and said, "Total run-time, 5:33. Or infinite."

She blinked. "Infinite?"

"Auto-return mechanism on vinyl records. But since this is a CD, I reckon you got about... two minutes left, easy."

She felt a surge of warmth in her chest and smiled gratefully to him. "Thank you, Billy. It means a lot."

"What does?" he said. The tone of his voice told her he was truly clueless.

She struggled for a way to explain the situation as concisely as possible and finally gave up by saying, "For treating me like... me."

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Who else would I treat you like?"

It suddenly dawned on her that Billy was homeless, or had been the last time she'd bothered to check. "Billy, ah... did you... read the Sunday paper?"

"I read the funny pages," Billy said as he went back to work. "Nothing else in that paper is worth paying attention to."

*Point taken,* Nadine thought. "Well," she said. "Thank you, Billy."

"One minute left," he said as he resumed sweeping.

She nodded and opened the door to the booth, pausing when she heard his voice behind her.

"You saw me for me first."

"What was that?"

He wasn't looking up, his hands wrapped tightly around his mop, his shoulders hunched as if he were trying to hide behind it. "You saw me. Not a homeless guy. You saw me. I see you." He finally looked up and nodded at her.

She smiled, but there were tears in her voice when she said, "Thank you, Billy."

She wiped her tears as she lowered herself into the seat. She sniffled, cleared her throat and picked up the headphones from where Willa had left them.

She hesitated briefly, turning her gaze towards the harbor visible through the window. She knew, although she couldn't see them that the picketers were still down there. They would be there when she left for home and they would be there every damn day until they got to shake their fists in her face.

She finally put on the headphones and rested her finger on the microphone button. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath and finally switched the microphone on. She leaned into the mic and said, "Hello, Squire's Isle. This is Nadine Butler, the KELF Pixie, and... Well, let's be honest, you more than likely have heard a lot about me this weekend. I don't want to talk about that. What I want to talk about is music. Bob Dylan, the Bee Gees, the Beach Boys and a lot more. Call in with your requests and I'll do my best to get it on the air for you. This is KELF AM 1220."

She sagged back in her chair and sent it to a commercial. As the chair swung to one side, she saw Miranda standing in the window watching her. They smiled at one another and Miranda gave her a thumbs-up. Nadine crossed her fingers.

---

"KELF, this is the Pixie."

"Could you play *Leaving on a Jet Plane* by John Denver?"

"We've got the Peter, Paul and Mary version..."

"Oh, okay, that's cool. As long as it's the song, it's all right."

"All right. What's your name?"

"Al."

"Can I call you Al?" she asked. "Sorry, Paul Simon humor. I'll get that on for you as soon as possible. Thanks for calling."

---

"This is the Pixie, thanks for calling. What can I play for you?"

"Like your paint job, dyke?"

"Ah, I'm assuming since you can use a telephone that you're not a monkey."

"...Huh?"

"You misspelled it, you hooligan. Dyke has a 'y' in it."

"I... guess you'd know..."

"Yeah, yeah. Hope you washed your hands real good when you vandalized my apartment, Mr. Nelson."

"What?!"

"The station has a Caller ID. Your mother Eleanor will be proud of you, I'm sure. I'm just sorry for Sheriff Rucker that he has to pay her a visit now. Hello? Mr. Nelson? Guess there's nothing he wanted me to play..."

---

"Hi, you're on with the Pixie. What can I play for you?"

"Can you play *God Knows I'm Good* by David Bowie?"

"Oh. I'm not sure we have that one..."

"You should listen to it sometime. God knows you're good, despite the..."

"Next caller."

---

"Hi, what can I play for you?"

"*American Woman,* by the Who."

"All right, I'll get that on for you. What's your name?"

"Kevin."

"All right, Kevin. Keep listening and I'll get that on for you in the next half hour."

---

"You're on KELF with--"

The shouted "Homos burn in hell!" was followed immediately by a dial-tone.

"Well, at least let me finish my sentence..."

---

"Hi, you're on KELF with the Pixie."

"Hi. I just came over on the ferry and I was wondering what the hell was going on. What's with these crazy calls you've been getting?"

"Hazards of the job, ma'am. What can I play for you?"

"Do you have *Whiter Shade of Pale*?"

"We do, we do indeed. I'd be happy to play it for you. What's your name?"

---

Nadine rubbed the back of her neck and leaned back in the chair. She'd made it through the all-request portion of the show with only a handful of obscene or harassing phone calls. The phone numbers of those had been written off the Caller ID and transferred to a memo that she'd send to the Sheriff's Office at the end of the day. The list wasn't short, but it was nowhere near as depressing as she thought it would have been.

In fact, the turnout had been so good that she was debating whether or not to start a new contest. She rolled her desk over to the drawer that held their vouchers for free dinners. She pulled the drawer out and rifled through, looking for something besides the stack of "Dinner for Two, Gail's Seafood Shack" coupons. Frustrated with only the gold-and-brown slips, she glanced at the commercial clock and slipped the headphones off.

She left the booth and hurried down the hall to Miranda's office. She knocked on the open door and waited until Miranda looked up from whatever she was writing. She held up a handful of the Gail's coupons. "Hey, I wanted to try a contest, but I gave away about a thousand of these last week. We have anything different? Joe Lack's Pizza, maybe?"

Miranda scratched the bridge of her nose and looked down at her desk. "Um, no... no vouchers from there."

"Chin's, then."

Miranda was bent back over her desk. "Mm-mm."

Nadine stepped into the office and picked up the stack of flyers on the edge of Miranda's desk. "Well, what about these from Spartan Café?"

"No," Miranda said. She reached out and gently took the vouchers from Nadine. She straightened the stack and replaced them before she said, "Nadine... Chin's, Spartan, Joe Lack's, they've all pulled their sponsorship."

Nadine blinked. "What?"

"They don't want you giving away their coupons. They called me at home this morning and I... had to pull the vouchers. I'm really sorry, Nadine."

"Sorry. People keep saying that to me," Nadine whispered. She looked down at her hands and shook her head. "No, never mind. I'll give away the Gail's coupons. I'm going to get mighty sick of seafood, though. Because I'm never eating at those other places again."

"Neither will I," Miranda said solemnly. "I truly wish I could fight this, Nadine, but..."

Nadine nodded. "You have to do what you have to do. I understand." Overhead, she heard the last commercial of the current block beginning and motioned over her shoulder. "I have about thirty seconds to get back to the booth."

"Yeah. I'll put in some calls, make some requests for other things for you to give away. It's not right, Nadine."

"I know. Thank you, Miranda."

She walked back to the booth, trying hard to keep her back straight and her shoulders square. It was incredibly difficult, but she managed to keep from slumping until she dropped into her chair. She put her headphones on and leaned forward against the desk.

"Hey, loyal K-ELF listeners, this is your Pixie and I am going to send you to dinner. Where, you ask? The best, freshest seafood on this coast or any coast, Clifton Gail's restaurant, conveniently next to the harbor. Just call with the correct answer to our trivia question and you could be on your way to one of the best meals of your life. Now... the question today..."

7 -

Hoagie parked his 4X4 in his regular spot in the employee's lot and climbed out of the cab. On most days, he wore jeans and a t-shirt to work. Nothing fancy, but with a semblance of professionalism. Today, he was wearing a baseball cap with the edge of the brim worn down to fringe. He hadn't bothered to shave and had picked his muddiest pair of hunting pants to wear. His plaid shirt was ripped and stained and both sleeves were rolled up to show he wasn't all blubber.

As he rounded the corner of the building, he pulled a cigar from the pocket of his shirt and lit it up. He blew a smoke ring and grabbed the shoulder of the first person he saw. The protestor was a thin man in a green sweater carrying a placard that read: "Homosexuality is a SIN!" The man stepped aside and nearly fell over when he saw Hoagie's size. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to move away from Hoagie. "Afternoon, sir."

Hoagie held onto the man's collar. "Howdy." He hooked his thumb towards the radio station and addressed the crowd with a thick drawl. "Y'all gonna stick it to that gay lady who works in there?"

The man cleared his throat. "Y-yessir. When she comes out after her show, the plan is."

"All right, well, make sure you save some. Me and my buddies are gonna want our fair share. I myself want her fingers."

The man's brows knit together. "Fingers...?"

Hoagie winked and moved his cigar to the corner of his mouth. "Mm-hmm. Yeah. Love breaking fingers. Love the sound they make."

The protester's face went pale and the placard began to tremble. "Oh...! Oh, no, we're... w-w-w-we're not planning to be violent! Oh, no, sir. No, sir. Oh, heavens." He wiped the sweat from his brow and looked frantically for someone to back him up. "We're simply going to... s-shout at her." As he said it, Hoagie could tell the man was desperately trying to figure out how he was different from this behemoth.

"Good!" Hoagie slapped the man on the back and almost knocked him flat. "More for me and my friends."

"Friends?"

"Yep. Big ol' boys. We're gonna show her what's what. You can't just come onto Squire's Isle and do whatever you want." He smiled and waggled his cigar with his tongue. "Yeah, it's gonna be a hoot and a half."

The man spun around and disappeared into the crowd. Hoagie crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. Within a few minutes, the good church-going folks began to disperse. Most of the people looked at him with fear as they dropped their signs and scurried for the nearest automobile. Some just pretended they had gotten tired, put their arms down and casually strolled away.

But Hoagie remained, twirling his cigar, tapping his foot as if impatiently waiting for his friends to show up and cause a ruckus. When he was alone on the sidewalk, he crushed the cigar under his heel and stooped to pick up the remains. He dropped it into a squat trash bin - KEEP THE STREETS OF DECEMBER HARBOR CLEAN OF LITTER!, the golden brown plaque on the side read - and headed inside.

The receptionist looked up as he walked in. "Good afternoon, Mr. Hogan! I thought I saw your truck drive past a few minutes ago. What kept you?"

"Just keeping the streets clean," he smirked as he continued to the stairs.

---

Nadine rubbed the back of her neck and looked at the clock. Nearly five. Hoagie was usually... She turned in her chair and, sure enough, there he was, hunched over at his desk. She was a little anxious about his silent entry. Usually he knocked on the glass, made faces at her, barged into the booth for the last five minutes of her show... The fact that he was at his desk...

She closed her eyes and clasped her hands in front of her. *Not Hoagie,* she prayed. *I think I can take everyone else turning on me, but not Miranda and not Hoagie, please.*

The song faded out and she turned on the mic. "That was *Ruby Tuesday* by the Stones, and according to the clock, that will be the end of my show today. That old loveable lug, Joe Hogan is right outside the door, ready to hop in here as soon as I'm gone and... and please, guys. Give him a break and leave him alone about me. Just let the man play music." She sighed and said, "That's a wrap for me. Thanks for everyone who called in to support me today and to everyone else... well, not much I can do for you. Hope you find something else to listen to on the way home from work."

She switched off the mic and stood up. By the time she got to the door, Hoagie was waiting. "Miss Butler," he said.

She looked over his outfit and said, "Casual Monday, Mr. Hogan?"

"Hoagie," he said. "I'm always Hoagie to you, Pixie." He nudged her with his elbow, almost sending her flying against the wall, and headed into the booth.

Miranda was on her way and spotted Hoagie's apparent assault. She watched him disappear into the booth and snapped, "What the hell was that? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Nadine laughed. "That was just... Hoagie being Hoagie." Miranda still looked confused, so Nadine shook her head and said, "Forget it, never mind. You ready to head out? Run the gauntlet?"

The door to the booth opened and Hoagie stuck his head out. "Oh, by the way, ladies. The crowd downstairs won't be a problem."

Miranda blinked. "They just... left?"

"I politely asked if they would mind vacating the sidewalk." He smiled and shrugged. "What can I say; I'm a people person."

Even if she had stopped to think about it, Nadine still would have done it. She lifted herself onto her tiptoes and grabbed the lapel of his shirt. She pulled him close and pressed her lips to his cheek. She got a stubble burn on her lips, but it didn't matter. When she released him, Hoagie staggered back a step and touched his now beet-red cheek. "Well, hell, woman," he finally managed. "If you'd just let the paper get a picture of you doing that, all your problems would be solved."

Nadine smiled and said, "Thank you, Hoagie."

He ducked his head and went back into the booth. Nadine sighed and wiped at her eyes before turning back to Miranda. "Well, I guess if the coast is clear, I don't need back-up. Thank you."

Miranda hugged Nadine and said, "Be safe. Let me know if you want a safe place to sleep tonight. I live in Sandpiper Condos; gated, no way anyone is getting in."

Nadine pulled back, but left her hands on Miranda's hips. "Thanks, but I let them keep me from my bike. I won't let them chase me from my home. Thank you for everything, Miranda."

"I aim to please. I..." She hesitated and then said, "I've read *Sparks of Love,* too. I thought it was a great book."

Nadine's smile didn't waver. She shrugged and said, "See? Like I said, reading a book doesn't make you gay. Just means you have taste." She looked at her watch and said, "I should... I-I should get out of here. Thank Hoagie again when he takes a break, will you?"

Miranda laughed. "Thank him? I may give him a raise."

Nadine moved her hand to Miranda's wrist and gave it an affectionate squeeze. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

Miranda nodded and patted Nadine's hand. "I'll make sure the sidewalk is clear before you show up."

Nadine thanked her again, gathered her things and headed for the stairs. When she was gone, Miranda sagged against the wall and pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. She had been so close to saying it: "I have something to tell you. I know where you're coming from. I'm gay." One, two or all three, it didn't matter. She could've said *one* of them. At least to let Nadine know she wasn't alone.

Telling Nadine, of course, was wrapped up in a lot of baggage, however; she had never said the words out loud. Her parents had died when she was in college, a year before she'd had her first fling with another woman. It had been another two years before she realized how serious her flings were, how serious her feelings were.

She'd never had to come out to the rest of her estranged family, had never had to say the words to another human being. Getting a woman home for the night was a matter of feeling her out and choosing the right words. Her encounter with the fair girl had been typical. Lingering glances, a slight raise of the eyebrows, a way of saying 'You, too?' with body language.

But now that Nadine needed her, she wasn't sure she could actually form the words. She was such a master of reading the signs that when it came to the words... she was lost. *Dear God,* she thought as she watched Nadine leave. *It's been almost twenty years. Am I still this scared to admit it to myself?*

She rubbed the back of her neck and retreated to her office to avoid answering the question.

---

Nadine parked Kate's car in front of the *Register* offices and reluctantly went inside. There were only a handful of desks behind the front counter, and none of them occupied, so Nadine didn't feel the need to hide her face. The receptionist hadn't reacted to the sound of the bells over the door, so Nadine quietly cleared her throat and gently rapped her knuckles on the desk.

In a heavily put-upon voice, the receptionist finally said, "How may I assist you?"

"I'm looking for Kathryn Price...?" She glanced towards Kate's desk out of habit, but it was as empty as its neighbors. Her computer screen was dark and the area had the feeling of long abandonment.

The receptionist confirmed her feelings by saying simply, "She didn't come in to work today."

"Oh," Nadine said. "Okay, thank you."

She turned and made it all the way to the door before the receptionist said, "Hey! You're that DJ..."

She pushed the door open and rushed across the sidewalk to Kate's car. She ducked behind the wheel and pulled out in front of someone, waving an apology in the rearview mirror as she sped away from the curb. When she glanced in the rearview mirror, she saw the receptionist standing in the door of the *Register* offices, watching her with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Nadine drove the rest of the way home hunched over the wheel, wary of pedestrians and other drivers. She'd let her guard down; Hoagie had cleared the jackals from her front porch, but they were still hanging around, still circling. She pulled into the parking lot without any further incidents and parked in the same spot she'd left that morning. She locked the door and spent the entire walk up to the building debating what to do.

She stepped into the foyer and looked at the key ring in her hand. She looked at her freshly-painted door, and then looked up at Kate's door. She sighed and decided it was better to talk to her now rather than later.

She went upstairs and knocked on Kate's door. "Kate?" No reply. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other and glanced down at the ground floor. She flipped the keys into her palm, stepped closer to the door and listened for sounds of movement within the apartment. "Kate, it's me. It's Nadine. I have your keys." She looked down and saw the standard apartment key for the building. "Oh... that's why you didn't go to work." She kicked herself and said loud enough for Kate to hear, "It's got your apartment key on it; if you leave, you won't be able to lock the door behind you."

Again, no reply. She paced between the top of the stairs and Kate's apartment, rubbing the back of her neck. Finally, she gave up and fished her cell phone from her pocket. She dialed Kate's number and leaned against her door as it rang. To her surprise, she could hear the quiet sounds of *Sealed With a Kiss* playing from within the apartment. She turned on her heel and pressed her ear against the wood. Definitely the ring tone she'd chosen for herself.

She growled and snapped the phone shut. "Fine," she murmured as she singled out the apartment key. "Hide from me. I don't give a damn."

She slipped the key into the lock and raised her voice again. "Kate! If you're in there, I'm coming in." She turned the key and pushed the door open. The apartment was darker than it had been that morning, the sun taking up the opposite side of the sky. The curtains were all drawn and long shadows stretched across the cluttered living room. There was no music playing, no television or any hint someone was hiding in the bedroom.

There was a small table next to the door meant for the mail and Nadine dropped the keys there. "Kate! I'm leaving the keys right here."

She had the door halfway closed before something hit her. She wasn't sure what it was, but she opened the door wide and looked over the apartment again. She wasn't home or at work, she didn't have her car... in a town as small as December Harbor, she *might* have walked someplace. But then why would her door have been locked?

The couch faced away from the door, creating a make-shift wall between the 'entryway' and the living room. Nadine glanced into the kitchen before she rounded the arm of the couch and glanced down.

Kate was curled on the couch in the fetal position, both hands tight against her stomach. Her face was deathly pale, her lips hanging slack. There was a beer bottle standing on the edge of the coffee table, but the real show was on the floor: an empty brown pill bottle and a wide pool of vomit.

Kate was not breathing.

Nadine threw herself backward and hit the coffee table. She drew in a sharp breath and let it out in a scream loud enough for the downstairs neighbor to call the police.

---

"KELF Radio, your place for the hits."

Nadine blinked and pulled the phone away from her ear. As she stared at it, uncomprehending of how it had gotten into her hand, a paramedic brushed past her and disappeared into Kate's apartment. She ignored his passage and put the phone back to her ear. "Wh-who is this...?"

"This is Susan, the KELF radio receptionist. How may I direct your call?"

Nadine didn't remember pulling out her phone, didn't remember dialing, but she brushed her eyes and said, "Miranda Powell, please."

"One moment, please."

There was a click and the line went to a live feed of Hoagie's show. She drew her legs to her chest and closed her eyes. She was seated on the landing outside Kate's apartment where she'd been deposited by Deputy White. Since then, it had been a blur of tan and white uniforms seen in a strobe of blue lights from outside.

A moment later, the tinny music cut off mid-lyric and was replaced by a crisp, professional voice. "Miranda Powell."

"Miranda... it's... i-it's Kate..."

"Who?"

"Kate!" Nadine nearly screamed.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I know a-a... Nadine?"

"Kate's hurt." She felt her tears starting again and a whooshing of blood in her ears kept drowning out Miranda's voice.

"Are you at home?" Without waiting for a response, she immediately said, "I'll be right there." The phone disconnected and Nadine pressed it against her forehead. She closed her eyes, tried to hold her breath and failed after thirty seconds. When she exhaled, a fresh crop of tears flowed down her cheeks.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there crying with her head in her hands, but she didn't come back to reality until she felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Miss Butler?" She looked up into Sheriff Rucker's kind face and sniffed, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. "Can you stand up? They need to take the gurney out..."

He helped her stand and moved to one side as the EMTs took Kate out of the apartment. One glimpse of the cold, pale face and Nadine turned, pressed her face against Rucker's uniform until the clatter of the gurney faded. The sheriff held her until they were alone on the landing and then patted her shoulder. He said, "Miss Butler, do you have someone who can give you a ride to the hospital?"

Nadine shook her head and tried to think. "I... n-no. Bike. I-I have a bike, I..."

"I'll take her."

Nadine spun around and saw Miranda halfway up the stairs. She released Rucker and lunged at her boss. Miranda, fortunately, had been prepared for such a reaction and braced one hand on the railing as she caught Nadine with the other. She squeezed Nadine around the waist and offered a few whispered condolences before she turned her attention to Rucker. "Sheriff, what happened?"

"Kathryn Price seems to have attempted suicide."

Miranda looked down at Nadine, whose face was pressed into the soft linen of her jacket. "Oh, God." She lowered her voice and said, "Is... i-is she...?"

"No," Rucker said quickly. "She mixed the pills with alcohol and threw up most of it. They're going to pump her stomach at the hospital, make sure all of it is out. She's going to be fine."

"I'll take her to the hospital," Miranda said. "Thank you."

Rucker nodded and headed downstairs, leaving the women alone on the landing. Miranda moved Nadine to one side and pressed her back against the wall. "Dean," she said gently. "I want you to take a deep breath and let it out." She brushed her thumbs over Nadine's cheeks and waited until she did as she was told. "Now, another." Nadine complied faster this time and closed her eyes. "Feel better? Are you okay?"

Nadine nodded slowly and covered Miranda's hands with her own. "Thank you, Miranda."

"Don't be silly. Come on; let's get you to the hospital."

---

The grumpy RN at the nurse's station didn't want to give out Kate's room number to non-family members. Miranda finally convinced them by saying Kate had no family on the island or anywhere nearby. "Don't you think," she said, "that she should have *someone*?" The nurse finally relented and pointed them in the right direction. Miranda thanked the woman and walked Nadine to the appropriate waiting room.

She guided Nadine into a chair and started towards the door. Nadine's hand lashed out, snagging the sleeve of Miranda's jacket. "Don't, don't go," she pleaded.

Miranda gently freed herself from Nadine's fingers. "I'm just going to find a coffee machine. I'll be right back."

Nadine nodded and moved her hands to her lap, embarrassed by her panicky clinging. When Miranda was gone, she scanned the waiting room. It was a dim, small alcove off the main hall near the elevators. She wondered why a two-story hospital needed elevators until she saw a gurney wheeled by. Naturally.

Aside from the garish purple chairs, the waiting room had one table for magazines, a little lamp that was doing its best to eliminate the gloom and a TV mounted in the corner opposite the door. The television was currently tuned to a documentary on the Discovery Channel and, since she couldn't see a remote anywhere, she watched a show called Predators of the Kalahari to clear her mind.

She was aware of Miranda's return only when her fingers were curled around a warm cup of coffee. She looked down at the coffee as if wondering how she'd made it appear, then turned her head to find Miranda in the next chair. "Thank you," she said quietly. She brought the coffee to her lips and took a sip.

Miranda kept her hand on Nadine's back, moving it in slow circles that she hoped were comforting. Truth be told, she'd never been in this situation. She looked at her coffee, looked at Nadine's tear-streaked face and finally focused on the documentary that seemed to have entranced Nadine. After a moment, she had to ask. "Kate is your... y-your girlfriend. Isn't she?"

Nadine nodded slowly.

"How long have... how long?"

"Three years."

Miranda blinked in surprise. "All those times I made you work overtime..."

Nadine smiled weakly and touched Miranda's hand. "It's okay," she whispered. "We were... I could always have said I was seeing someone and left it at that. We were just worried about people getting nosy. And... I suppose... I could have always told *you* privately. I just... I don't know. I could never say the words out loud."

Miranda looked down, stricken by the comparison to her own thoughts on the subject, and said, "I..." She paused for a long time and finally squeezed Nadine's hand. "I w-would have understood."

"I know."

"Why would she do that?" Nadine whispered. "Why would... I mean... if anyone has the right to..." She shook her head and refused to finish the thought.

Miranda bit her bottom lip. "Kate wrote the article that... the article. Right?" Nadine nodded. "This is just me talking, but... I doubt she meant for it to be presented the way it was..."

Nadine shrugged. "She said her editor rewrote the entire thing. But the bare bones *had* to be there, I mean... she had to have known what she was doing."

"Even so, Dean. Kate loves you. She could be seeing everything that's happening to you as her fault. You're in agony and, if she were blaming herself for it..."

Nadine was quiet for a moment. The English accent of the documentary narrator filled the room as she chewed over this rationale. "I guess so," she finally whispered. "God, I've been so full of myself and what was happening to me..."

"You had a right," Miranda said. "But Kate... Kate was caught in the middle, too. I assume she's in the closet?" Nadine nodded. Miranda thought back to what she'd originally felt. "Then this is probably her worst nightmare, too. She's probably been deathly afraid of someone finding out. It's like the dream where you go to school naked. Everyone knows your deepest darkest secret. And it's worse for her, because she's not only inflicted it, she's done it to someone she loves. And she had to watch it all happen right in front of her."

"I wouldn't even talk to her."

Miranda nodded and looked at the TV. Nadine put her coffee cup down and leaned against Miranda's shoulder. They sat together in the dark waiting room, jumped together when the lights came up in response to the sun going down outside, watched the documentary on the small TV and drank stale, cold coffee.

On the next commercial break, Miranda began feeling the results of all her coffee and said, "Dean, I need..." She looked down and saw Nadine had fallen asleep. Rather than wake her after the brutal day she'd had, Miranda crossed her legs and settled in for a long wait. Fortunately, the documentary was about desert animals rather than marine life.

A few minutes later, however, the option of letting her sleep was taken from her. A petite doctor stepped into the doorway and looked at them. "Miss Butler?" she asked in a quiet voice.

Miranda reached up and stroked Nadine's cheek. "Dean... wake up, dear."

Nadine stirred and looked at Miranda for a moment before she realized they weren't alone. She murmured and sat up, straightening her glasses. "Yes, I'm Nadine Butler."

"I'm Kate's doctor, Rachel Tom. We've pumped Miss Price's stomach and we're confident we've gotten all of the pills out. She made a common mistake and attempted to wash them down with alcohol, which caused her to regurgitate most of the pills. You're lucky you found her when you did. She was awake briefly when she arrived, but we were forced to put her under anesthesia for the procedure. She's resting at the moment, but you can see her briefly once she wakes, if you'd like."

"Thank you, Dr. Tom," Miranda said.

"Thank you," Nadine echoed.

The doctor left and Nadine sat up straighter in her chair. "Was I drooling?" she asked as she wiped at her chin with one hand.

"No. But... if you'll excuse me, I've had way too many coffees..."

"Oh, God. Go, go," Nadine said.

Miranda hurried off and found the closest ladies room. She washed her hands and looked at her reflection in the glass. She'd nearly had a heart attack when she answered the phone and heard Nadine sobbing on the other end. She had hated herself, but when she arrived at Nadine's apartment to find someone else on a gurney, she had actually been relieved.

And then, when she'd been giving another chance to come out to Nadine, she'd chickened out again. "What will it take?" she asked her reflection. "She didn't have a choice. She was forced out and all she needs is a *friend.* Someone to..."

The door opened and a nurse came into the bathroom. Miranda covered her mouth and faked a cough, smiled at the pretty young nurse, and left the bathroom. She found Nadine still alone in the waiting room, huddled in her little chair like a little girl waiting outside a daycare center; alone and desperately waiting for someone to take her home. Miranda slid into the seat next to her and took Nadine's hand. "You can lean on me again," she said.

Nadine did so without hesitation. Miranda closed her eyes. Nadine nodded her head towards the TV and said, "Cheetahs can purr, but they can't roar."

Miranda's eyes opened again. "Egotistical housecats."

Nadine chuckled. After a long moment, she turned her head slightly and said, "I'm glad you're not... scared of me."

"What?" Miranda said. "Why would I be scared of you?"

"Not me. That I might... you know... turn you. Or something. Like being gay can be contagious."

"There's little chance of *that* happening," Miranda said. She could have added 'I've known I was gay for years' or 'I'm already infected.' Anything. But she kept her mouth shut. They watched the Discovery Channel documentary for a while, Nadine dozed and Miranda stroked her hair.

Finally, around ten, Dr. Tom returned and told them that Kate was awake. Nadine stood and stretched, turning to face Miranda. "Do you want to come in with me?"

"Unless you need me to be there... I think it's something you should do on your own, I think," Miranda said.

Nadine nodded. "I'll be back in a minute," she said as she followed Dr. Tom out of the waiting room.

---

Kate was lying on her side as before, hospital sheet pulled to her waist and her arms again wrapped around her stomach. Nadine thanked the doctor and waited for the door to close before she walked around the foot of the bed. The window was open and the moonlight was casting a pale shadow across Kate's face. Her eyes were sunken and dark, her lips pale and drawn. Nadine felt an ache just under her ribcage at the sight of her lover and nervously touched her arm. "Kate...?"

Kate's eyes opened slowly and they scanned the room for who had spoken. When she found Nadine, she blinked and said, "Dean."

"Hey," Nadine said.

"Sorry," Kate managed to say. Her voice, a voice Nadine so adored hearing sing from the shower, was scratchy and thin. She swallowed and a grimace of pain exploded across her face. She managed to relax her features and moved her hand across the mattress. Nadine met it halfway and Kate said, "Sorry... 'bout the... article..."

"It's your job," Nadine shrugged.

"Shitty... excuse..."

"Yes. Well," Nadine said. She blinked back her tears and decided not to beat around the bush. "You scared the hell out of me, Kate. I mean... what if I... hadn't come in? I almost didn't come in and... God. If I had gone back downstairs and been mad at you all night... do you know what that would have done to me?"

Kate was weeping now; quiet tears that lethargically rolled down her wan cheeks. Nadine reached up and brushed one away, letting her hand linger against Kate's cold skin. "Do you want me to call Amy? Let her know that you're..."

"No," Kate said quickly. "I don't want... anyone to... know."

"My..." Nadine hesitated and then said, "My boss knows. I called her to drive me to the hospital. She's been sitting with me since..."

"Good... boss," Kate smiled.

Nadine smiled back. "Yeah. The best." She looked over the wall of electronics, the steady beep that was the heart she'd listened to on so many quiet nights. She blinked back her tears and looked Kate in the eye. "Is there anything I can do for you, sweetheart?"

Kate shook her head carefully and said, "I think I want... to sleep. My stomach feels like... I did ten thousand sit-ups."

Nadine brushed Kate's arm and nodded. "Okay. Anything else?"

"Ask the... nurse for more ice chips?"

"Okay." She stroked Kate's cheek one more time and then stood up. She bent over the bed and lightly brushed Kate's lips with her own. She moved her hand from Kate's cheek to her hair, brushing it away from the clammy skin. She moved her lips to Kate's eyes and kissed the tears away. "I love you, Kate," she whispered.

"I love you, Dean."

Nadine kissed her one last time before she stood up. She ran her fingers through Kate's hair again and said, "I'll come back and see you when you wake up in the morning, okay?"

Kate nodded.

Nadine went around the foot of the bed and slipped out. Dr. Tom was at the nurse's station and Nadine approached. "Doctor." Tom looked up. "Kate wanted... um, ice chips."

"Okay, I'll get a nurse to bring her some."

"Do you know when she can be released?"

"We're doing a twenty-four hour hold on her, just to keep an eye out for infection and we'll want a counselor to speak to her during that time, of course, to make sure she won't try this again when we release her..."

"She won't," Nadine assured her.

Dr. Tom nodded. "Still, we like to be certain before we release this type of patient."

Nadine cringed at the words 'this type of patient,' but knew what the doctor meant. "I understand."

"Will you and your friend be staying overnight? We could arrange for a room..."

"No, no," Nadine said. "We... I'm sure we'll go home at some point. Thank you, Dr. Tom."

The doctor nodded and returned to her charting. Nadine found her way back to the waiting room where Miranda was waiting. "Hey," she said.

Miranda turned and rose from her seat. "Hey. How is she?"

"She's getting better. They're probably going to release her tomorrow."

Miranda nodded and said, "You want me to drop you at your place, or..."

"Yes, please." She rubbed her face and said, "I don't think I could stand staying here all night. The antiseptic smell, knowing Kate was... No," she said firmly. "I can't stay here."

Miranda curled an arm around Nadine's shoulders and softly said, "Come on."

She guided her through the quiet corridors of the sleeping hospital and downstairs. They stepped into the cold night air and Nadine, unprepared for the sudden chill, hugged herself. She stepped behind Miranda as they walked to her car. Miranda smirked and turned around. She undid the belt on her trenchcoat and wrapped the halves around Nadine. Together they walked across the parking lot, Nadine trembling against Miranda's body as she unlocked the car door.

Nadine scooted across the front seat and Miranda climbed in behind her. She slammed the door against the winter night and cranked up the heater. They sat in the warm pocket and waited to defrost from their trek across the parking lot. Miranda said, "Almost didn't make it."

"When did it get so *cold*? It was *sweltering* yesterday!"

"I think a cold front blew in halfway through that cheetah special."

Nadine cupped her hands over her mouth and blew into them. Without preamble, Miranda said, "I talked to one of the managers over at Joe Lack's Pizza after you left today. They're going to reconsider the promotion deal. I'm going to give the others a call tomorrow and see if I can loosen them up."

Nadine closed her eyes. "Thank you."

"Eh, Lack is a pushover."

"No, not for... not *just* for that. Thank you for... for everything you've done for me the past two days. You've been so, so great during all of this when it's not even your fight. It means a lot to me."

"I have a stance in it, too, you know."

Nadine nodded. "Yes, of course. I haven't said how sorry I am that this is affecting your radio station. It's not fair that you should suffer..."

"I have a stance in it because I'm gay, too, Nadine."

The two women looked at each other, neither sure which of them was more surprised by the sudden revelation. Finally, Miranda's face split into an awkward smile and she held her hands out to either side of her face. "Surprise!"

8 -

The harbor lights were visible over the rooftops, creating a pale yellow halo around the buildings near the hospital. A fog had rolled in and the windows were starting to grow opaque from the heater and their combined breath. Not a word had been spoken between them since Miranda's surprise revelation and the car was beginning to feel a bit claustrophobic.

Nadine was staring through the rapidly-whitening windshield and Miranda had focused on a loose thread from her coat sleeve. Finally, she looked up and saw Nadine chewing her bottom lip. She couldn't take it anymore. She sighed and said, "Well...?"

Nadine jumped and turned to face Miranda. Her glasses were starting to fog over and she took them off, wiping the lenses with her sleeve. "You're gay?"

Miranda nodded.

Nadine put her glasses back on and pressed back against her seat. She looked at the halos of light through the smoky windshield and finally decided on a follow-up question. "How long?"

Miranda thought back. "Since I was about... twenty."

"That long?"

"Hey..." Miranda slapped Nadine's arm.

"Sorry," Nadine said.

They looked at each other and Nadine felt a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She covered her mouth and shook her head. "I shouldn't... laugh. I'm sorry, it's just... the idea of you being gay. All this time. I mean, we've worked together for five years. I thought I would have... you know... assumed. Or at least suspected. Have you been in any relationships?"

Miranda thought back to her one-night stand after the renaissance faire and shook her head. "Nothing worth mentioning, not since I came to the island. I was always kind of concerned about... well, this." She gestured at the windows. "What the reaction would be if I ever got caught."

Nadine nodded and said, "I wouldn't wish this on anybody." She suddenly shivered violently and grunted low in her throat. "I'd really like to keep talking, but could we do it someplace warmer...?"

"God, yes," Miranda said. She backed out of the parking space and headed for the street. "Where do you want to go...? My place or yours?"

Nadine glanced at her with a raised eyebrow.

Miranda blushed at the double meaning her words might have had and cleared her throat. "I... d-didn't mean that the way it... I just meant that my place has..."

Nadine interrupted and let her off the hook. "We can go to your place. My apartment has crappy heating."

As they drove through the nearly-empty streets, Nadine watched the few people who were out as they passed. Leah was on the air and her sultry voice came through the speakers as soon as Rod Stewart's song finished. "Hey, everyone out there tonight. Whether you're warm in bed or out in this cold, cold night, I hope you have someone with you to help keep you warm."

Nadine and Miranda glanced guiltily at one another and then looked away.

Miranda's route took them past Nadine's apartment building. She turned in her seat as they drove by and Miranda looked in the rearview mirror. "What is it?" The road behind them was clear, so she slowed down. "Do I need to turn around?"

"No," Nadine said as she dropped back into her seat. "I was just making sure nothing looked... out of place."

*Like a big slur on your door,* Miranda thought, even though Nadine's apartment door wasn't visible from the street. "Did you see anything? Should we stop?"

"No," Nadine said. "If something *was* wrong, I would want to stay and fix it and..." She waved her hands like erasing the thought from the air. "No, just keep driving."

"It's not far," Miranda assured her.

They passed the high school and Miranda turned them towards the gated entrance to Sandpiper Condos. As she rolled to a stop, she clicked on the interior lights and waved to the bored-looking guard hunkered in his little wooden shack. He returned the wave as he pressed the button and the gates began to part down the middle. Miranda turned off the overhead light and drove slowly through the gap.

The condos within hugged the stone wall of the community, connected by a single oval road. In the center was a small park that contained benches, a basketball court and a stand of mailboxes. Miranda pulled in at a tidy yellow house that, save for a knee-high white fence around the yard, was identical to its neighbors.

They walked to the front door together and Nadine again huddled into the warmth of Miranda's coat as she found her key. Miranda pushed the door open and they both rushed inside, sighing as they hit the air of the house. It was still cold, since it had been abandoned all day, but it was far more comfortable than it had been out in the wind. Miranda closed the door and turned on the living room light. She gestured at the dark kitchen and said, "Can I get you something to drink? Orange juice, soda..."

Nadine shook her head and said, "Water is fine..."

Miranda headed down a dark corridor and Nadine stepped into the living room. It was nothing like what she expected; it was a quaint living room direct out of any sitcom. A sofa and chair faced the television, a small fireplace with a stack of books in it sat unobtrusively against the back wall next to a window.

Nadine walked to the fireplace-slash-book cubby and knelt down to scan the titles. She laughed when she found a well-worn paperback copy of *Sparks of Love*. She pulled it out and thumbed through. Pages were dog-eared, the binding was cracked and there was a coffee ring on the back cover. The book was obviously well-loved and well-read.

"Ah, you found my library."

Nadine smiled and stood up with the book. "A book called *Sparks of Love* sitting in the fireplace. Appropriate."

"Well, I never used the thing," Miranda said. She handed Nadine a plastic cup from Gail's Seafood Shack. "Pretty soon, the books just... migrated there."

Nadine thumbed through the book. "I guess you don't have to worry about it being removed from this library's shelves."

"Yeah," Miranda laughed and took it out of Nadine's hands. "It seemed so innocent when I bought it. I guess now, though, seeing this is going to be like seeing a rainbow sewn onto somebody's jacket."

"Did you buy it on the island?"

"Mm-mm. Online. Through a second-hand book seller. So it wouldn't show up on my Amazon history." She twisted her glass and shrugged. "I guess not so innocent."

"I guess," Nadine smiled. She took a sip of her water and turned it to look at the logo on the side. She tapped the cursive name of the restaurant and said, "Are you supposed to take these...?"

Miranda, who was drinking something brown and most likely alcoholic, smirked and shrugged. "It's probably not encouraged..."

Nadine smiled. "I only ask because I don't want to offend my one and only sponsor." She walked to the couch and took a seat. Miranda sat on the opposite end and pulled her feet underneath her. Nadine scratched her fingernail along the curved rim of the glass and said, "I don't remember if I've said it yet, but... thank you for being there for me today. I was a total... I-I was destroyed. I can't believe..." She caught herself and looked towards the window.

Miranda reached out and took Nadine's right hand. "What?"

"Mm, no. It's awful."

"I won't tell anyone." She smiled and said, "Trust me; I'm good at keeping secrets."

Nadine laughed and looked into her glass. "I was just thinking on the way here that... it's amazing I didn't try to kill myself."

"You didn't hole yourself up in your apartment, either," Miranda said.

"What do you call what I did on Sunday?"

Miranda shrugged. "You were taking a breather. You let me in."

"Yeah. I did." She turned her hand and, just like that, they were holding hands.

"It only lasted a day. When you had to get up, you brushed yourself off, came to work, cleaned up your front door... whereas Kate just... shut down."

"If I'd been there for Kate..." She looked down at Miranda's hand. "If it hadn't been for you, I don't know. I might've been in that hospital room next to Kate."

Miranda shifted uncomfortably. "I wouldn't give myself that much credit..."

"Oh, I definitely would," Nadine argued. She turned to face Miranda and said, "You've been wonderful through this entire ordeal. If it weren't for you, I'd probably still be in my bathtub staring at the wall and Kate..." She looked away again. "So really... you've saved two lives."

Miranda smiled and took another drink. She sat her cup on the coffee table and said, "I think I've had enough." She glanced at Nadine and said, "Enough alcohol, I mean. Please, continue with the effusive praise."

Nadine laughed and put her glass down. "Actually, I think I'm done, too."

Miranda said, "Well, should I drive you home? Or... I mean, it's awful late. You could go ahead and crash on the couch if you wanted."

Nadine thought for a moment and then shook her head. "I probably shouldn't. That guard saw you pull in here with an island-renowned lesbian. I think it would be best if he saw you take me home, too."

Miranda hesitated. "I want to. I mean, I want to take you home if that's what you want. But I'm not going to do it just so Paul the guard doesn't think I'm gay." She looked down at her drink and then leaned back against the arm of the couch. Without looking at Nadine, she said, "Do you regret it?"

"What?"

"Coming out. The way you did it, I mean. Do you wish you could take it back?"

"Of course," Nadine breathed. "I mean, my God... Kate wouldn't be hurt, those picketers wouldn't be blocking the front door... But if you're asking would I go back in the closet...? No. Absolutely not. It feels..." She chewed her lip and looked around the room as if for a prompt. "Like I was holding my breath and I finally got to exhale. I definitely wouldn't go back, no. But I would try to find a better way to do it."

Miranda nodded and rubbed the back of her neck. "I can... understand that."

The stifled yawn in the middle of Miranda's sentence prompted Nadine to look at the clock. She gasped and looked at her own watch for confirmation. "Oh, God, is it really that late?"

"We were at the hospital for ages," Miranda said. She checked her watch, confirming the time, and stood up. "If you're sufficiently thawed..."

"I am." She looked at Miranda's glass and said. "Oh... sh-should you be driving?"

"I only had a few sips," Miranda said. "I practically need a carafe before I get drunk."

"Okay. But could I use your bathroom before we..."

"Sure, sure," she nodded. "It's down that hall, second door on the right."

Nadine went down the same dark corridor Miranda had gone down. She found the second door and groped until she found a light switch. She found herself in a slightly messy, thoroughly modern kitchen. She blinked at the unexpected room and stepped back. "Um, Miranda..."

"First," Miranda said, sounding chagrined. "I-I meant the first."

"Okay," Nadine said, struggling to keep her smile under wraps. "I was about to say that was the most unique bidet I've ever seen."

She shut the bathroom door on Miranda's laughter and did her business. When she finished, she took a moment to admire the hard work that had gone into the room.

The walls were streaked with white, blue and very light blue that emulated a waterfall and the floor was white and grey tile. A small gray rug, like a stepping stone, lay in front of the tub, which had a green and white curtain hanging from the rod. Nadine felt like she was standing in a pool of water as she washed her hands.

A picture framed in seashells caught her eye. It was nestled between the hand lotion and soap underneath the mirror and she carefully pulled it free without disturbing the surrounding toiletries. Miranda Powell never seemed old to her, but the version of her in the picture looked like a positively radiant teenager. She was wearing a knit ski cap and goggles, both arms wrapped protectively around a smaller brunette girl. Both were smiling into the camera, the sun burning in the background and washing out some of their color.

She ran her finger over the curve of Miranda's cheek and wondered who the other girl was, if they were lovers or just good friends. She returned the picture to where she'd found it and quickly washed her hands before she slipped out of the bathroom.

---

Miranda offered to walk Nadine to her front door and, unsure of what they would find, she agreed. Nadine went in first and breathed an audible sigh of relief when she saw that the paint job had survived the day unscathed. She found her keys and said, "Safe for another day. Hopefully there was just the one artist and I scared him away."

"Let's hope." Miranda looked up to the second floor and saw a single strip of yellow crime tape running across Kate's apartment door.

"It looks so lonely," Nadine whispered.

Miranda hadn't realized Nadine was looking, too. She nodded and put her hand on Nadine's shoulder. "She was lucky you came home when you did."

"I was so angry at her. I thought she was avoiding me like I had done to her. If I had just gone downstairs to stew, I..." She looked at Miranda as if surprised to see her there and shook her head. "But I-I'm babbling."

"No, you're *talking*," Miranda smiled. "And I'm listening."

Nadine hesitated but then began to speak again. "If you hadn't come to see me Sunday, I would probably have not come to work today. I probably would have stayed in, like Kate, and wallowed. And... I'm... not sure what I would have done."

"I don't think you would have tried to kill yourself."

"The thought crossed my mind."

Miranda was caught off-guard by this admission and couldn't hide the look of fear that crossed her face.

Nadine saw it and said, "Don't worry. After seeing Kate like that and... You don't have to worry." She turned and put her hands on Miranda's shoulders. She leaned forward and kissed the corner of Miranda's mouth. She let her lips linger for a moment before she fell back and moved her hands away. "Thank you. For being there tonight and for... everything. Thank you, Miranda."

"Y-you're... welcome. Nadine."

"I'll see you tomorrow. Do we have a staff meeting?"

"Hm? No. No, the, uh, third Tuesday of the month."

Nadine frowned. "Tomorrow *is* the third Tuesday."

Miranda blinked and said, "Uh. Yeah. Then, yeah, staff meeting at 10:30."

"Okay." She smiled and said, "Good night, Miranda. Thank you so much, again."

"It was my pleasure," she said. She waited for Nadine to close the door before she stepped out of the foyer. She walked across the courtyard to her car, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her coat. The wind was whipping her hair like a dervish, her cheeks were raw and her lips were chapped. But the only thing on her mind was that little bit of moisture at the corner of her mouth and the thought that kept circling in a never-ending loop: *She kissed me. Nadine kissed me...*

---

Nadine stood at the window and watched Miranda walk away. She wanted to run after her, ask her to stay and curl up with her on the couch. She wanted to be held, but she wasn't sure she could trust herself. Where had these feelings come from? This was Miranda Powell, her boss. The same person she had an occasional lunch with. The same person who had yelled at her when she accidentally said a curse word on-air last year.

It wasn't a real attraction. It was the knowledge that Miranda was gay making her feel this way. It was the fact that with so much hatred beating down on her from all quarters, Miranda was still her friend, still being nice to her. That's all it was. She stepped away from the window just as Miranda's car left the parking lot. She went to the couch and turned on a lamp before flinging herself onto the cushions. Her forehead was throbbing, but the thought of popping any kind of pills, even an aspirin, terrified her after the ordeal at the hospital.

She took off her shoes and glasses and leaned back on the sofa. Her lifeguard was gone, she was on her own. It was fine. She would make it until morning without Miranda holding her hand. She hoped. She closed her eyes and heard Miranda's voice in her head.

"I'm gay, too. Surprise!"

God, talk about understatements. Miranda gay? She never, not in a million years, would have thought... never would have considered the possibility. But would she, if she'd been in Miranda's house? The picture in the bathroom, the *Sparks of Love* book... then there was the fact that she was apparently as terminally single as Nadine. It seemed so obvious in hindsight, but she figured she would have chalked it all up to wishful thinking and gone alone her merry way.

She checked her watch and forced her muscles to push her off the couch. As she stood, the headache returned in force and followed her down the hallway to the bathroom. She undressed in front of the sink and sat on the edge of the tub as she ran the faucet. She looked at the freezing porcelain and saw, very clearly, a ghostly image of herself from the day before. So alone, so despondent, seeing her razors next to the sink as a distinct possibility. How they would hurt a little and then all the pain and fear would go away.

She pictured Kate in the same position, staring at a bottle of pills. No one had come to her door, no one had offered a hug and a friendly shoulder. The one person she'd reached out to had shut the door in her face.

Nadine stuck her hand under the flow of the water and let the flow pummel her fingers. When it was warm enough, she stood up and stepped into the water. She sank into the tub, closed her eyes and let the water gather her in its warmth.

---

Miranda left the overhead lights off and stopped by the mirror in her entry hall. "I'm gay," she told her reflection, who didn't seem shocked by the revelation. She was out, at least to one person. One of her best friends, she had to admit, and someone she worked with. It was out there, the fact that she was gay, and she didn't look or feel any different. *Like I'd been holding my breath,* Nadine had said.

Miranda stopped waiting to feel the change and instead focused on her features. There were little laugh lines next to her mouth and eyes, definite signs that she was getting older. She leaned forward and tried to determine if the blonde of her hair was beginning to turn white yet. There were no signs, but it wasn't easy to check. She didn't want to be vain about it, so she refused to turn on any more lights, refused to continue the hunt.

She went into the bathroom and undressed, retrieving a towel from the closet under the sink. She turned on the faucet and sat on the edge of the tub to watching the water rise. When it was almost full, the cell phone in her pants pocket went off.

Cursing the god of bad timing, she spun the knob until the water stopped and dashed to the pile of clothes. She searched the pockets of her slacks and fortunately managed to find her phone while it was still ringing. She flipped it open without looking at the screen, positive that it was Nadine. Something had happened after all, some mark of vandalism not readily apparent from outside or... oh, God, what if someone had been inside waiting for her? "Hello? It's me, what's wrong?"

There was a short pause on the other end of the line before a man said, "Miss Powell?"

Her eyes went wide and she shot to her feet. "Mr. Dugan. What are you doing calling me at this hour... sir?"

"I've only just gotten off the phone myself, Miss Powell. I've been speaking to Joe Lack about... harassment?"

She closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. She leaned against the sink and caught a glimpse of her reflection when she opened her eyes again. *Oh, shit. I'm talking to Mr. Dugan *naked*. I hope *he's* wearing something. Oh, shit, why did I think of that?!* She stepped into her slacks and bent down to pull them up. "Um... I'm not sure what you're... talking about, sir." She got the pants up and buttoned, but didn't bother with the zipper.

"Mr. Lack requested that his sponsorship be pulled from this Pixie show after the... announcement in yesterday's paper. He said you spent most of today arguing with him on the phone trying to get him to change his mind. He finally said yes just to shut you up, but as soon as you left him alone, he called me. I assured him that Ms. Butler will *not* be advertising for Joe Lack's Pizza any time in the near future."

"You can't do that," Miranda argued. She'd grabbed her blouse and managed to get both arms into it by shifting the phone from one hand to the other. She did two of the buttons to give a semblance of being dressed and it worked; she immediately felt more professional. "Nadine has done nothing wrong."

"If Joe Lack wanted to pull his sponsorship because Miss Butler refused to play his request, we would honor that. If Joe Lack wanted to pull his sponsorship because Miss Butler said something offensive about him or his restaurant, we would honor that as well. Hell, if she mispronounced Saskatchewan and Mr. Lack didn't like it, he could pull his sponsorship. He doesn't *need* a reason. It's his money. We're going to honor this, and all of the other pulled sponsorships to keep their business with our other shows."

Miranda sank onto the closed toilet lid and covered her eyes with her free hand. "Who else?"

"I don't have a full list, but I've spoken with the managers of several places today. Let me check." There was a ruffling of papers and then he cleared his throat. "Yolk Folks, Duck Soup Restaurant, Joe Lack's Pizza as I said, the Spartan Café, Chin's Chinese Buffet, Gail's Seafood Shack..."

"No!" Miranda said, unable to stop the outburst. "No, you can't do that. Gail's is..."

"Withdrawing their sponsorship of Nadine Butler's radio show. I spoke to the owner..."

"Clifton?" Miranda said.

"No, his father, Markus. Clifton is just the manager. Markus Gail, I shouldn't have to tell you, was appalled to hear Miss Butler promoting their restaurant today. He called to make sure I would make amends as soon as possible."

Miranda was on the verge of tears. "Mr. Dugan, please. If all of these places pull their sponsorship, there'll be nothing for her to play between songs."

"Nothing for her to play period."

"Exactly! It's..." Miranda suddenly felt a cold front wash over her body. She tightened her grip on her cell phone and heard the casing crack slightly under her fingers. "You... cannot... do that."

"KELF is still *my* station, Miss Powell, no matter how much influence I let you wield. Nadine Butler has a six hour show, in the middle of the day. If I cannot advertise during that time, I cannot very well justify her paycheck. *Or* the raise you recently debated me about. Tomorrow is your monthly staff meeting, right? I expect you to inform Miss Butler then that she is no longer employed at the station. Tomorrow will be her last show."

"You prick." She couldn't stop herself and, once the words were out, didn't really want to apologize.

"I do not believe in belaboring the point. To allow her another, what, week on the air would only cause bitterness on everyone's parts. And believe me, that week would hardly be quality airtime on her part. It's best to just get her out as soon as possible."

"She's a human being."

"She's my employee. As are you. So I expect the two of you to follow my direction. Do we have an understanding, Miss Powell?"

She leaned forward and covered her face with her hand.

"Do we have an understanding, Miss Powell?"

"Yes," she snapped. "Okay. Nadine... Nadine is gone tomorrow."

She hung up on him and let the phone drop to the circle of carpet in front of the tub. She covered her face with both hands and sobbed.

---

The next morning, her headache reduced to a dull throb, Nadine rode her bike to the hospital on her way to work. She found Dr. Tom and confirmed that she was allowed to see Kate before making her way up to the second floor room. The hospital was considerably cheerier in the morning hours; a window at the end of the corridor flooded the entire ward with light. Even the tiny waiting room didn't seem as cavernous as it did the night before.

Nadine knocked on the door to Kate's room and entered after a whispered, "Come in." She poked her head in and saw the wide, white-suited back of a nurse. She walked into the room, past the nurse, and smiled when she saw Kate.

The sunlight had done wonders for her, as well. Gone was the ghost Nadine had visited the night before. Some color had returned to her cheeks, her hair had been washed and combed - although it was a bit limper than Nadine was used to - and she actually managed a smile with make-up free lips. "Good morning, you."

"Good morning." She stepped aside as the nurse left the room. She moved closer to the bed and said the only thing that came to mind. "How are you feeling?"

"Like something Death brought with him in a suitcase."

Nadine smiled. "I love it when you quote classic rock to me."

Kate held out her hand and Nadine took it as she sat next to her.

"Are you really okay?"

"I hate that question," Kate said. She groaned and nodded towards the door. "They brought in a counselor first thing this morning. She caught me washing my hair in the bathroom sink and treated it like I was being reborn."

"I guess it was a sign you were planning to be around for a while."

"I guess," Kate murmured.

Nadine shifted in her seat and scooted forward. "Kate, I have to apologize. I am... so sorry about this weekend."

Kate frowned. "Sorry...?"

"I shut you out. You wanted to talk, and I just... turned my back on you. I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Kate."

Kate looked horrified. "No. Nadine... no. Nothing about this is your fault. Please don't think that. It's all because of that stupid article. If I'd never written it..." She bit her lip and ran her thumb along Nadine's knuckles. "If I had died with you thinking that, I would... i-it would have..." She clenched her jaw and said, "I would've come back to haunt you until you wised up!"

Nadine laughed and covered her mouth with one hand. "You would not."

"Trust me," Kate said. "When I was about to go into the light, I saw two doors. Afterlife. Haunting. I would've picked haunting."

Nadine shook her head. "Well, I was going to worry about you today. But if you were just going to *haunt* me..." She smiled and said, "I know I just got here, but... work. Staff meeting. I just wanted to come by and see you before I went in."

"It means a lot. I've been thinking about you all night."

Nadine bent down and brushed her lips over Kate's. "Mm, you'll have to tell me about it when you're feeling better..."

"No, not that way," Kate smiled. She tightened her hand on Nadine's and said, "Could you... wait? Just for a few minutes? There's something we need to talk about."

"I'm on the bike, and..." She realized the station wasn't more than a couple of blocks away. She checked her watch and nodded. "Yeah, I think I can stay. What is it?"

Kate looked down at their interlocked hands. "I didn't want to do it like this, but... you shouldn't have to wait. Your boss. Minerva?"

"Miranda," Nadine said.

"Whatever," Kate said with a sly grin. "You said she brought you here last night. Sat with you. Held your hand...?"

"Yeah. Kate, you don't have to worry about..."

"Shh, Dean, let me finish, dear, please. You should go for her."

Nadine blinked and nearly yanked her hand back. "What?!"

"Honey, I'm... I do love you. And I love what we have. But I know that you've been drifting away from me lately. In a way, it was my fault you were in that meeting in the first place."

Nadine snapped, "Stop blaming yourself!"

"I'm not, I'm not," Kate soothed. "You were just desperate for a real connection. A date, I guess. I've been lying here thinking and I can't remember the last time we were together on a date. Just enjoying each other's company. That's what the weekend was supposed to be, that's why you came with me to the meeting. Maybe we could've had what you wanted, but... I-I think it's too late for us now."

Nadine bowed her head to hide the tears welling in her eyes. "Are you breaking up with me?"

"I guess," Kate whispered. "Not because I'm angry with you... or tired of you or... it's because I love you, Nadine. You deserve to be in a relationship that's actually going somewhere. A relationship where you can say 'I am in love with this person' and it's not just about sex. Can you honestly say that about us?"

Nadine was awash with emotion; she'd been thinking the exact same thing over the past few weeks, but hearing the words come from Kate. It was one thing to know it with her own heart. It was quite another to know Kate was feeling the same thing. "I can't," she admitted. "I'm so sorry, Kate."

"Don't be sorry," Kate whispered. "Kiss me."

Nadine kissed her again, long and soft and sweet, the kind of kiss they hadn't had in a long time. Kate touched Nadine's cheek and slipped her hand around the back of her head. When they parted, Kate said, "I love you, Nadine. Enough to let you go."

"You're such a cliché," Nadine laughed. Her tears finally slipped free and fogged up her glasses. She hugged Kate gently and said, "I love you, Kate."

"Go to work," Kate said. "I'm crying and I can't waste the moisture."

Nadine chuckled and leaned back, wiping her tears away. "I'll come back after work. Unless... do you want me to?"

"Yes, please. I want to see you." She smiled and released Nadine's hand. "Go on," she said and shooed Nadine towards the door. "I don't want to make you late."

"Okay, okay. I know where I'm not wanted." She smiled and said, "Get some rest, Kate."

"I will."

"See you in a few hours."

She waved once more before she left the room and headed for the stairs in a near-daze. She and Kate were actually broken up. Apart, separated, no more, et cetera. But beyond that, she was shocked by Kate's mention of Miranda. Outside in the cool air, she looked up at the cloudy sky and said, "I'm free. I'm free, Miranda came out last night... I have Kate's blessing..."

She repeated it inside her head as she unlocked her bike and climbed onto the seat. Free. Miranda's out. Kate's blessing.

For the first time in a long time, and especially since Saturday, Nadine felt free. After all this time... Kate was going to be all right and they had finally - finally! - come to an understanding about their relationship. She was ready to cry, she was so relieved. They may have parted, but the break-up had been so easy, so amicable and friendly that maybe some sort of friendship could be salvaged from the ruins.

She rode her bike into the wind, letting the cool breeze assault her face as she weaved down the street. Life was good.

For the next fifteen minutes, at least.

9 -

Nadine, flush from her conversation with Kate and out of breath from pushing her bike to its limits, rounded the corner like the leader of the Tour de France. The protesters lined the sidewalk across from KELF, held at bay by a blue sawhorse and Deputy Randall White's patrol car parked at the curb.

She rode past his position and the voice of the crowd rose as one. Nadine waved to White as she went past and parked her bike next to the rack. The deputy climbed from his car and started across the street. One of the protesters with a particularly booming voice shouted, "What you're doing is unnatural!"

White turned and walked backwards as he shouted back, "At least she's having sex!"

The protester, a whippet-thin college kid, naturally shrank back from the ex-soldier's gaze. White faced forward again and stepped onto the curb, a sheepish smile playing on his wolfish lips. "Sorry about that, Miss Butler. That was crude of me."

"Oh, hell, no," she said. "If I had the guts, I would've said the same thing. Or... something less crude."

He smiled and tilted his head towards the crowd. "I'll be out here as long as I can, make sure they behave themselves. No matter what, though, I'm going to be here when you get off at five to keep the peace."

"Thank you. It means a lot."

"Just doing my job, ma'am. Have a good show."

She thanked him again and they separated; her to the front door of the station and him back to his car. As soon as she stepped into the heat of the KELF lobby, the sweat on the sides of her face began to evaporate. She swept a hand through her hair and smiled at Sue. "Morning, Sue."

Sue was immediately on her feet, hands fluttering around her collar. "Oh, Nadine, was that *you* on the phone yesterday? I am so sorry, I had *no* idea. Can you ever, ever forgive me for..."

Nadine moved quickly around the desk and hugged Sue. "Shh, shh. It's all right. I'm fine. Everything worked out fine."

"A-are you sure?"

"Absolutely. No hard feelings."

Sue exhaled and brushed a hand across her forehead. "Okay. Thank you, Nadine. I'm so sorry."

Nadine assured her everything was fine and then went upstairs to the office. The round table they used for their meetings had been set up to one side of the cubicle maze and Hoagie was already in his seat, head down, eyes closed, apparently asleep. Nadine dumped her coat at her desk and headed towards Miranda's office at the back of the room.

She stopped at the door at took a moment to admire her boss. She was wearing a red suit, something she'd worn before, but something about it seemed different. Miranda seemed softer, more... *there* than she'd ever been before. Nadine wondered if it was just the typical reaction to being in someone's home late at night seeing someone's bathroom. Knowing she was gay could also be a part of it.

Miranda finally looked up and caught her lurking. She smiled faintly and went back to her work. "Hello, Nadine."

Nadine had to fight to not flinch at the coldness in that voice. She cleared her throat and said, "Hi. I-I went to see Kate this morning."

When Miranda looked up, her eyes had softened a bit. "How is she?"

"Doing better. They'll probably release her later tonight."

Miranda breathed a sigh of true relief and straightened her back. "That's wonderful. Are you going back to the hospital later...?"

"I planned to go after work."

"Tell her I said hello. We only met once, but..."

"I'll tell her. She'll be glad to know you're thinking of her."

Miranda nodded and said, "Okay. I'll start the meeting in a minute." She took her seat and resting her head on her hand. She began massaging her temple and Nadine couldn't hold back anymore.

She glanced at the table where Hoagie was still sleeping and stepped into the office. She rounded the desk and lowered her voice to a whisper. "Miranda, is everything all right? A-are you uncomfortable because of what you told--"

"No," Miranda said softly. She reached out and took Nadine's hand. "I don't regret telling you. But... We have to talk privately. I've asked Willa to take the first few minutes of your show, so we'll speak after the meeting, okay?"

"Okay... something we can't talk about at the staff meeting?"

"No," Miranda said again. "I'm sorry, Nadine. We should go out there..."

She stepped back and let Miranda stand up. They walked out of the office together and Nadine tried to ignore the niggling voice at the back of her mind, tried to brush off the familiar chill of everything about to go wrong.

As they walked towards the table, Leah Nettles arrived in the bullpen. She was dressed in a ragged white t-shirt and jeans, her black hair hanging limp in her face. She was the youngest DJ at the station, but her outfits usually cut an extra ten years off her look. Nadine politely waved hello and paused when Leah waved her over. "Nadine, come here a minute."

Nadine glanced at Miranda and crossed to meet Leah halfway across the bullpen. "Hi, Leah," she said. "What's up?"

"Not much," Leah said. "I just wanted to let you know I've got your back. Hundred percent."

"Thanks, Leah. That means a--"

"And also, I don't know if you're seeing anybody, but if you want a date some Friday or Saturday, give me a call." She slipped a piece of paper into Nadine's hand.

Nadine blinked. "You're gay?!" She resisted from asking if it was some kind of prerequisite for working at the station when Leah laughed.

"No, I'm not gay! I'm curious, though. So if you'd like to hang out, get a little wild, give me a call." She winked and brushed past Nadine. As Nadine looked down at the phone number on the slip of paper, Leah squeezed her ass.

Nadine squeaked and jumped forward. She spun around and saw Leah smirking, tongue sticking between her teeth as she trotted towards the meeting table. Nadine followed her, surreptitiously dropping Leah's phone number in the garbage. She'd been there, the experimental fling. Maybe fun in her twenties, but not now. Leah would have to find her own guinea pig.

She walked across the room and took a seat next to Hoagie. She nudged him gently and he sat up immediately. He blinked sleepily at her and rubbed both eyes with the heels of his hands. "What, I'm up, I'm up." He sniffled and said, "We ready?"

"We are," Miranda said. She glanced at Leah and said, "Are you okay with the early start time, Leah? We didn't wake you or anything...?"

"Like I sleep," Leah scoffed. "I'm fine, boss lady."

Miranda nodded and began straightening her notes. "Okay, first order of business is... oh." The door to the booth opened and Willa slipped out to join them. She and Simon alternated which of them attended the meetings and it looked like this time he had won the coin toss.

The meeting got underway with discussions about contests, station identifications, one or two complaints (not related to Nadine) that had come in. They discussed an upcoming concert and decided that they would be broadcasting from the concert. Hoagie raised his hand as volunteer to do that duty, but Nadine had the sinking sensation that, despite the controversy, she would end up going in his place.

After a quick resolution regarding who would fill in for Ben that weekend - Leah volunteered - the meeting broke up. Hoagie headed for his desk, where he promptly dropped into his chair, put his head down and resumed his nap. Leah spoke briefly with Miranda, turned with a swish of her hips and rubbed Hoagie's head as she headed out of the building. She was gone as quickly as she'd appeared, leaving with only a waft of perfume to show she'd been there at all.

Nadine stood just as Willa was heading back to the booth and they ended up face-to-face. Nadine forced a smile and said, "Willa... thank you for covering the first part of my show. I know you... don't agree with me or..."

"I don't agree with what you are," Willa said curtly, "but I've always thought of you as a friend. So... here." She reached into her pocket and slapped a pamphlet into Nadine's hand. "Read that when you're ready to change your life for the better. Despite this little bump in the road, I have always liked you, Nadine."

Nadine waited until Willa had walked away before she looked down at the pamphlet. "Reparative therapy, a way to a happier, healthier, holier you," she read.

The cover showed a male and female couple huddling in front of a horse, looking blissfully happy and undeniably heterosexual. "I guess I'll go straight. I've always wanted a horse like that." She resisted the urge to rip the paper in half and instead stuck it into her back pocket. She went into Miranda's office and said, "You wanted to speak to me about something...?"

Miranda had just poured a small white pill into her hand. "Yes, please... close the door?" She popped the pill and Nadine felt a twitch. She wondered how long it would be before she could see someone pop a pill without worrying. She closed the door and took one of the seats opposite Miranda's. The foreboding chill had returned. She crossed her legs and tried to remain casual. "What's wrong? Miranda, if I did anything last night that..."

"Stop blaming yourself," Miranda said. Nadine was struck dumb by the déjà vu of the moment; it was exactly what she had told Kate in the hospital room. Miranda continued. "Last night after I dropped you off, I got a call from Mr. Dugan."

Nadine leaned back in her chair and braced herself. "This won't be good. Will it?"

"No," Miranda said softly. She had yet to meet Nadine's eyes. "He called to say that Joe Lack was indeed pulling his sponsorship. There was a... a miscommunication, I suppose." She rubbed the bridge of her nose and said, "But he's not alone. Also pulling out are... Chin's, Yolk Folks, Duck Soup Restaurant and... Dean, I'm so sorry. Gail's pulled out, too."

"Gail's?" Nadine breathed.

"It's... something to do with his father. I don't know. I don't... it doesn't matter. Dugan is furious. He says that if we can't advertise during your show, we might as well... n-not run it at all. Dean, he wants..."

The chill had transformed into a block of ice, hanging just behind her ribs and freezing everything it touched. "I'm being fired. Aren't I?"

"No," Miranda said firmly. "He said you were last night, but I managed to talk him down. It's a... a temporary leave of absence."

"Please," Nadine scoffed. "You and I both know that if I walk out that door, I'm not coming back in here. Not to work, not ever again. And we both know I'm being fired because I'm gay."

When Miranda finally looked up, Nadine was shocked to see she was crying. "Yeah. Basically, yes, you are."

"That's wrong, Miranda. That is..."

"You don't think I know that, Nadine? I haven't slept the past two nights because I have been fighting this tooth and nail. But I can't fight forever and I can't sacrifice my own job, Dean. You have to know I fought as hard as I could just to get this suspension."

"I know you did," Nadine said softly. She stood up and said, "Thank you for fighting a little for me, Miranda. It means a hell of a lot."

"Don't do this to me, Dean."

"My name is Nadine."

"*Dean,*" Miranda said firmly. She stood up and said, "Sit your ass back down."

Nadine reluctantly took her seat and Miranda leaned forward across the desk. "You are my friend. If I hadn't proven that before, I did last night. As long as I have this job, you're going to have an advocate. I won't let you go without fighting, but you have got to back off. Just for now. Give Dugan a little win so he'll be more willing to give in a little in a week or so."

Nadine closed her eyes. "I'm tired of waiting for another week or so. I'm just so tired, Miranda. I may have come out accidentally, but... hell. Maybe I *wanted* out. Maybe I finally got sick of it and forced myself to do it subconsciously. I don't know. Freud would have a field day with it, I'm sure."

The music that had been filling the room as white noise suddenly cut off and Willa Lamb's voice took its place. "That was *Life on Mars?* by David Bowie and no, you're not hearing things. I'm still Willa Lamb and I'm just filling in for Nadine Butler for a couple of minutes. She'll be here with you soon with music by Bob Dylan, Manfred Mann and War. One of us will be here to take your calls after these commercials."

Nadine frowned at the wall-mounted speaker. "What did she just say...? You just said..."

"It's your last show," Miranda said. "Before the suspension kicks in. It was Dugan's idea, actually, since you were coming in anyway for the staff meeting. He said that it was the least he could do for your listeners."

"So he admits I have listeners but not that people want to hear me. Great."

Miranda opened her mouth, perhaps to apologize again, and closed it before she could say anything.

Nadine stood up again. "Well, I guess I better get in there for my swan song."

She left before Miranda could call her back. As she walked towards the booth, she let her eyes pass over the bullpen one final time. Hoagie, asleep at his desk. Billy washing off the white marker board that listed current long-running contests and upcoming concerts. She saw her jacket draped over her own chair, something so familiar and every-day that it almost made her cry to think it might be the last time she'd see it that way.

She pushed down her emotions and opened the door to the booth. Willa already had her things gathered and stood as soon as Nadine stepped inside. "Thank you for filling in for me, Willa."

Willa nodded and stopped at the door. She turned and said, "You will think about that program, won't you, dear?"

"Yeah. I'll think on it a lot," Nadine said. Willa walked out and Nadine waited until she was almost to the stairs before she continued. "I think it's funny, though." Willa turned. "Gays and lesbians are the ones who are shunned, who are treated like we have a disease... and straight people are the ones who are doing all the converting." She smiled sweetly. "It just seems bizarre to me."

Willa huffed and disappeared down the stairs.

Billy turned from the board and smirked. "Good one, Miss Butler."

"Thanks, Billy."

"Need any song times?"

Nadine glanced at the microphone, at the currently dark on-air sign and said, "No, Billy. Not today."

"Awright, Miss Butler. You just let me know if you change your mind."

"I will."

She went into the booth and shut the door. She looked at the knob and bemoaned the lack of a lock. She scanned the room and spotted the chair Simon used for the morning show. She grabbed it and unfolded the seat, made sure it was sturdy, and jammed it under the knob so no one could get in. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she rounded the table and took her seat.

The headphones fit her so well, disturbing her glasses a little but not enough to be distracting. She rested her finger on the on-air button and closed her eyes. They had backed her into the corner; Willa, the protesters, Thomas Dugan... now it was time to show them that the Pixie could fight back.

If it was going to be her last show on the air, she was going to make it count. She hit the on-air button and began to speak.

---

Miranda splashed her face with cold water in the tiny private bathroom next to her office. Tears had been threatening all day and, until the confrontation with Nadine, she'd been able to hold them off by shouting into the phone at Thomas Dugan. But being forced to be the messenger, telling Nadine she'd have to be off the air for an indefinite amount of time, had finally broken down her defenses.

She splashed a little more water on her face to be presentable and went back into the main office. She was in time to hear the tail end of a commercial for the charter flight services before Nadine's voice came on.

---

"Honey?" Tamara Butler said as she entered the back room of the photography studio. "Do you have the packet for Erin Williams?"

Nathaniel looked up from the table and cleared his throat. "Yeah, right here." He walked to the counter and began rifling through the bags of developed film. She walked past him and switched on the radio underneath the film developer. "What are you doing?" he asked without looking around.

"Hush, I want to listen to Nadine a little."

He made a growl in his throat and finally found a packet marked Williams. He carried it into the other room as his wife angled the antennae towards the ceiling. "Good morning, everyone. My name is Nadine Butler and, if I sound a little subdued today, it's for good reason. You see, I'm going on a 'temporary leave of absence' from my job. And we all know what that means: I got canned." There was a flushing toilet noise and she said, "Thank you to Hoagie; hope he doesn't mind me borrowing his sound effects."

---

Hoagie hated waking up with someone touching him, especially if he didn't remember going to bed with anyone. He cracked an eyelid and looked at Billy. "What do you... oh. You need to clean here or..."

"No, Mr. Hogan," Billy, the only person who never called him Hoagie, said. "I think something's about to happen with Miss Butler."

"Is she all right?" Hoagie asked. He stood, immediately awake. He looked around the room, half-expecting to see the protesters had gotten in.

Billy looked uncertain, but finally he nodded. "I think so. Physically, least-ways. But... I don't know if she's all right in the head."

Hoagie started towards the booth just as Miranda flung open the door to her office and began running in the same direction.

---

Deputy White's car pulled away from the curb a few minutes before Nadine began broadcasting. A call had come in and Sheriff Rucker was tied up at the office. He figured that nothing would happen so long as Butler was safe and sound inside the radio station, so he radioed that he was answering the call. Rucker agreed and told him to be sure to return before she went off the air in case the protesters hung around.

As he drove past the clump of bodies in the street, someone in the back pulled out a portable radio. He tuned it to KELF and, as soon as Nadine introduced herself, the assembled picketers began to boo loudly.

---

In Coffee Table Books, KELF was played loudly during Nadine Butler's program and there was a special on pink "I Support the Pixie" cookies. Amy Wellis was pulling another sheet of the cookies out of the oven when someone in the main room began shushing the patrons. She walked out to see what the commotion was in time to hear Nadine announce that it was her final show.

A chorus of boos went up from the patrons of Coffee Table Books and Amy smiled. She rang the service bell on the counter and said, "Pixie supporters, listen up. I've got a way to let her know we're here for her..."

---

Kate grimaced as she was angled into the wheelchair. Her stomach still felt like it had been doubling as a speed bag while she was unconscious and she held herself like a pregnant woman as she sagged in the chair. The nurse put a hand on her shoulder and assured her the doctor would be there in a moment with the discharge papers. Kate nodded and, when the nurse had left, wheeled herself back to the bed.

She leaned over the railing and found the television controls. She punched a few buttons until she found the combination that turned on the radio. She tuned it until the static cleared and heard her girlfriend - no, ex-girlfriend - speaking loud and clear.

Her smile was short-lived, however, as she listened to what Nadine had to say. By the time Dr. Tom arrived, she was staring at the speakers in disbelief. The doctor looked at Kate, listened to Nadine and then gasped as well. Kate looked up at her, finally noticing she wasn't alone, and smiled proudly. "That's my ex-girlfriend for ya."

---

Nathaniel stood at the front counter with Erin Williams' packet of photographs forgotten in his hand, half-turned to the sound of his daughter's voice. Erin wasn't concerned with the service; she, like most of the people on the island, was transfixed on the radio.

---

This is what they heard:

---

"Good morning, everyone. My name is Nadine Butler and, if I sound a little subdued today, it's for good reason. You see, I'm going on a 'temporary leave of absence' from my job. And we all know what that means. I got canned." There was a sound effect of a toilet being flushed. "Thank you to Hoagie; hope he doesn't mind me borrowing his sound effects. Officially, I'm being fired because advertisers have been pulling out. But since they're pulling out because of the announcement in last Sunday's paper, I'm finding it hard not to feel discriminated against.

"So, in the time since I was given this information... about four or five minutes ago... I've been thinking about what my final show should be. Would I do what I normally do? That'd be great, except I really can't. I don't have any sponsors, so I can't give away any tickets or any free dinners. I am going to play music, though. It's my job, it's what I love to do and I'm not going to stop just because of some homophobic idiots. But between songs, we're going to be doing things a little different.

"Last night, I had a talk with someone. I won't tell you who; it's not my place. But this person revealed to me they were gay. That they'd been hiding it for years." (It's at this point that Miranda left her office as if it were on fire.) "And I got to thinking about it. How many other people on this island are gay? I know there have got to be a few. I've slept with some of them." A rim shot, another Hoagie sound effect.

"I only ask because I like to know whose bullet I'm taking. So call in. If you're gay, if you're willing to fight this fight with me, call in. Announce yourself. Let people know that I am not the only one here.

"I'm not angling to put anyone in my shoes. I would not wish what I've been through on anyone. But the feeling of being out? I would not trade it for anything. I would not go back into the closet if I was given the chance. Life doesn't end with coming out. It can be hellish, yes. It can hurt you. It can cause strife, of course. I'm a good example of that. I've had a derogatory word painted on my apartment door. I nearly lost someone I love to suicide. Coming out is by no means an easy thing. But it is so much harder to do it alone.

"The phone lines are open, 232-5353. I'm Nadine Butler. I am a lesbian. And this is *Smiling Faces Sometimes* by the Undisputed Truth. Pay attention to the lyrics, folks. I'll be back after the music. You don't have to be on the air, but I'd sure like to hear from you. So please, give me a call."

---

She pulled the headphones off and finally turned around. Miranda, Hoagie and Billy were crowded in front of the window, gawking at her, as she had expected. Nadine picked up a Sharpie and wrote on the back of the play list. She stood and walked to the window, placing the paper against the glass so they would be sure to read it.

"I'M NOT SORRY & I'M NOT GOING OFF-AIR"

Miranda pointed at Nadine and then twirled her finger around her ear.

Nadine shook her head.

Miranda mouthed, "What were you thinking?!"

Nadine shook her head again and shrugged. She walked back to the console and put down her paper. The lines were all flashing crazily and she hit the button to answer Line One. "Good morning. You're on the air with KELF and the Pixie."

"Hi, Nadine. This is Amy Wellis. We met at Squire Days on... on Saturday?"

"I remember. Hi, Amy. Is it all right if I record this for...?"

"Yes, please, air it. Um... I work at Coffee Table Books. I inherited it from my father and I've been serving locals and tourists for about five years now. And if this changes anyone's perception, well... there's nothing I can do about it. I'm a lesbian."

"Thank you, Amy."

"Thank *you,* Nadine. I want all of your listeners to know that I'm having a special on 'I Support the Pixie' cookies. They were just going to be a fun gimmick, but I want everyone to come in and show their support of the greatest DJ in Washington State. If I could afford advertising, you'd have at least one sponsor."

Nadine laughed. "Thank you. It's the thought that counts, but money is nice, too. I'll talk to you later, Amy." She switched to line two and checked the counter on the song. She had *Quinn the Eskimo* coming up next; long enough to take at least one more call. "This is the Pixie, Nadine Butler. Who am I talking to?"

"Reverend James McCoy, from First Baptist. I run a reparative therapy class. I was listening to your show and if being a lesbian has led to such strife, perhaps you..."

"Reverend... if I may interrupt? It's not the fact that I'm a lesbian that's hurting me. Unless you're telling me that a straight relationship would be simple, with no fights, no disagreements and no heartache. If that's what I'll get from your 'reparative therapy,' then sign me up. I've tried being straight, trust me. You want someone to lie to herself, I'm better than you religious guys at that. But I am gay and sitting in a cold folding chair talking to a group of people isn't going to change that. Thank you for your call."

She hung up before he could retaliate and she glanced at the counter. She didn't have time to take another call, so she pulled Willa's pamphlet out of her back pocket. The happy, shiny straight people and their stupid horse smiled up at her from the paper as she unfolded it and began to read.

When Manfred Mann finished singing, she angled the microphone back towards her and hit the button to turn it on. "Hello, everyone. I'm sitting here reading a pamphlet I was handed this morning and it is *very* informative. Let me tell you some things I'm learning about myself: I am mentally disturbed. I am a 'struggler.' Apparently, I felt alienated by other women and strove to gain their acceptance by any means possible, including - and I quote - 'compulsive sexual gratification.' Wow, that... th-that is very good to know.

"On top of being gay - the stigma attached to it and the reaction to my friends and coworkers - why don't I add the fear of being told it's just because I'm mentally damaged? There's another reason to stay in the closet for a while. The guilt, the pain of going through one of these 'reparative therapies'... I've heard of them. Of course I have. When I was denying who I was, I thought a *lot* about going to one.

"The problem is this. When I was living as a straight woman, going out with men, I couldn't change myself no matter how hard I tried. My thoughts, my desires. I've known people who went through this conversion therapy. They tried to change their sexuality by force. One of them, it actually seems to have worked. He's married, has a kid, seems to be happy and I'm happy for him. The others... one of them is an alcoholic. One of them is severely depressed, still in therapy and trying to undo the damage done. I hope she makes it."

She cleared her throat and blinked away her tears. "The answer can't be found sitting in a circle munching on stale cookies. You have to find the answer inside yourself and if you try to jam your foot into a shoe that doesn't fit, you're just going to destroy your toes." She blinked and shook her head. "Maybe that doesn't make sense, I don't know. You'd have just as much trouble trying to 'reform' a lefty. You can train him, you can tie one hand behind his back, but he's still going to cut himself when he tries to shave."

She cleared her throat and glanced at the clock. "Okay. Okay, um... I'll probably have more to say on that later. Right now, I'm going to play *Why Can't We Be Friends?* Stick with the Pixie." She shut off the mic and, a moment later, her cell phone rang. She fished it out, looked at the Caller ID and frowned. She spun around in her chair and saw Miranda in the bullpen, cell against her ear. She was holding a piece of paper against the glass.

"PICK UP."

Nadine answered her phone and was the first to speak. "I'm not going off the air."

"Nadine," Miranda sighed. "What the hell are you doing? This isn't right."

"It's the best course of action."

"According to whom?"

"To me!" Nadine said. She stood and walked closer to the glass. "I have been letting people steamroll over me ever since I came out. But I'm not going to take it anymore! I'm making a stand. I have one last show; let me use it the way I must. Please, Miranda."

Before Miranda could answer, Sue appeared at the top of the stairs. "Miss Powell!"

Miranda and Nadine both turned to look. The overweight secretary was leaning against the wall and frantically pointing downstairs. "Mi-Miss Powell! You have to do something."

"What is it? What's going on?" Miranda said, holding the phone away from her ear so that Nadine could hear.

"As soon as Miss Butler started talking, the protesters crossed the street! They started banging on the glass and I managed to get the doors locked when I saw they meant to come in. But then they started leaning against the doors a-and I think they're going to try and break in!"

"No," Miranda said. She shook her head and said, "Deputy White is out there. I saw him myself when I came in..."

Sue interrupted. "No, ma'am, he's not! He left as soon as Nadine went on the air. I think he got a call, but... there's no one out there to stop those crazy people!"

"What on earth do they want?" Billy asked.

"Me," Nadine said.

Miranda turned and put the phone back to her ear. They locked eyes through the glass, Nadine's swimming with tears. She was terrified, her lower lip trembling as she spoke into the phone. "They're going to come in and yank me out."

Downstairs, something loud cracked and Sue yelped.

She locked eyes with Miranda and said, "Don't let them. Please, Miranda, don't let them get in here."

10 -

Hoagie was the one who finally answered. "We won't let them get you, Nadine. Trust us." He headed for the door and saw Billy anxiously ringing his mop with both hands. He paused and motioned downstairs with his head. "Come on, Billy. You wanna lend a hand?"

Billy nodded and said, "Anything for Miss Butler, Mr. Hogan."

Hoagie slapped him on the back and they ran to the stairs. As they passed Sue, he hooked his arm in her elbow and said, "I'm going to assume you want to leave, right?"

She looked nervously between Hoagie and Miranda. "Um... y-yes?"

"Not a problem," Hoagie said. "I totally understand. When we get downstairs, Bill and I are gonna make sure you get out okay."

Sue exhaled and said, "Thank you, sir."

Billy took the time to pull his mop free of the bucket as he hurried to follow Hoagie down the stairs. He brandished it like a sword, flinging droplets of soapy water against the walls. They could hear the glass front doors rattling as the people outside tried to fight the locks. Hoagie thought the locks would hold, but it was only a matter of time before one of them shattered the glass.

Hoagie ushered Sue towards the desk. "Call Sheriff Rucker and get him down here *now*! Billy, give me your mop."

Billy tossed the mop across the room and Hoagie snatched it out of the air. He spun around and moved towards the door, rapping the wooden end against the tile floor. Each crack sounded like a shotgun blast. The people at the front of the crowd saw him coming and began backing away from the doors. Hoagie swung the wet end of the mop at the doors and shouted, "All right! Back off and shut up!" When the din had died down, he said, "You are not getting into this station! You are not going to damage this building any further and you are most definitely not going to harm Miss Nadine Butler. Have I made myself crystal clear?"

A few heads nodded and Hoagie lunged forward. The crowd gasped and a few more of them scrambled to get off the front lines. He waved the mop once more for good measure, making sure no one was could tell if he was bluffing. Sue moved up behind him and ducked the swinging head of the mop. "The sheriff is on his way," she said, watching the crowd with wide eyes.

"Good," Hoagie said. "I look forward to having a nice little chat with him." He stepped forward and twisted the lock open. "Stand back! We're just letting this lady out so she can go home. Stay away from the doors." The crowd stepped into the street and Hoagie found himself wishing for a convenient garbage truck to come by and solve the problem for him. He opened the door wide enough for Sue and she stepped gratefully outside. "Tell Miss Butler that I'm pulling for her, but... I-I just..."

"She'll understand," Hoagie assured her. "Go on, get somewhere safe."

Sue ran off and Hoagie shut the door before anyone could get any bright ideas. He stepped back, keeping the mop by his side. He looked at Billy and said, "Well, looks like we're going to have us a good old-fashioned standoff."

"S'okay," Billy said. "I didn't have no plans today anyway."

Hoagie smirked and patted the man on the back. He couldn't help but feel a little remorseful. He was happy to help Nadine and all, but he had really been looking forward to napping at his desk.

---

Miranda had been left alone in the bullpen, Nadine entombed on the other side of the broadcasting booth. She pulled a chair from a nearby desk and sat down next to the glass. She leaned forward, resting one arm on her knee and keeping the other attached to her phone. "Nadine, I wish you had talked to me about this."

"Yeah, right," Nadine scoffed. "Like you would have let me get anywhere near this booth if I had told you what I'd planned?"

Miranda sagged back against the chair and looked down at her feet.

Nadine sighed. "I'm not saying this is the most brilliant idea I've ever had. But I had to do *something*, Miranda. Can you at least see that?"

"I can," Miranda relented. "I think it's either the bravest or the craziest thing I've ever seen. And I promise you, Nadine, as long as you're in there... I'll be out here for you."

Nadine put her hand on the glass and closed her eyes.

"Nadine..."

"I'm not crying."

"No, Nadine... dead air..."

Nadine's eyes snapped open and she turned around. The song had ended and they had been broadcasting silence for the past fifteen seconds.

She closed her phone and slid her chair back into place. She slapped the headphones on, missing one ear entirely as she jabbed the on-air button with her thumb. "Whoa, hey, sorry about that folks. We're having a bit of excitement here at the station... seems a couple of uninvited guests are trying to get in the front doors. But don't you worry. I've got some great friends here watching my back and we're not going down easy. Right now, I'm going to answer a few more of your calls. You're on the air with the Pixie. What's your name?"

"James." The voice was that of a teenager, not many years since it had cracked at puberty. "I-I... my name is James," he repeated.

"Hi, James, thank you very much for calling."

"Am I on the air right now?"

"You are. Would you prefer not to be?"

"No, it's okay. I just... I wanted to ask if you were really happier. Being out, I mean."

"I am," Nadine said. "With everything else I'm going through right now, it's a... relief to not have to worry about hiding it anymore." There was a pause on the other end of the line and she said, "James, are you still there?"

"Yeah."

She smiled and said, "Take your time. You don't have to do or say..."

"I'm gay."

Nadine closed her eyes. "Have you told anyone else, James? Anyone at all...?"

"No," he said. He was sobbing quietly into the phone.

"James, listen to me. Find someone to talk to. Not me, I don't know you. Find someone you trust, a counselor, a teacher... anyone who you think will listen without judging and will help you figure this out. You've made a big step, but you've got a hard road, okay? You need to talk to someone."

"Okay."

"Promise me, James."

He sniffled and said, "I promise. Thank you, Nadine."

"Thank you for calling, James." She switched off and thought for a moment. Finally, she said, "James, if you're still listening, I wish you the best. I hope you find someone to support you because it's hell going through this alone. I've had someone wonderful holding my hand since this all started. I don't think I'm exaggerating when I say I owe... my life to her." She turned in her seat to face Miranda. She had her head down and was wiping at her cheeks. Nadine smiled and turned back to face front. "If she's listening, I want to say... thank you to her. From the bottom of my heart. Thank you."

She cleared her throat and said, "Okay, uh... we're going to continue with our theme with a little mellow music. I'm going to dedicate *Bridge Over Troubled Water* by Simon and Garfunkel to my guardian angel. Stay tuned and keep listening to KELF."

She switched the song on and stood up. By the time she reached the door of the booth, Miranda was already there. Without thinking about defense or keeping the lines firmly drawn, she pulled the chair out from under the knob and pulled the door open. She fell into Miranda's arms and hugged her tightly, feeling Miranda's wet cheeks against her hair.

Holding Miranda, she felt something inside of her. It wasn't just seeing Miranda's house, it wasn't just the fact that she was gay. Kate was right, there was something there. She cupped the back of Miranda's head and whispered, "Thank you so much, Miranda."

---

Sheriff Rucker's squad car cut through the crowd like a knife, his siren bleating every few seconds. He parked at the curb outside the station doors and stepped out of the car. The crowd hadn't dispersed, but they were considerably more under control than they had been a few moments ago.

At the sight of the tan uniform and badge, Hoagie unlocked the door again. He held the door and handed the mop back to Billy. "No one gets in here but me or the Sheriff."

"You got it, Mr. Hogan. Ain't no one gonna hurt Miss Butler on my watch."

Hoagie smiled and stepped out onto the sidewalk. Rucker was already standing in front of the door and examining the buckled frame. "How many people were trying to knock this down?"

"Handful of 'em," Hoagie said. He scanned the crowd, but couldn't definitely point at any one person. "Can't name anyone specific, though."

"Problem with mobs," Rucker said. He scratched his cheek and said, "I already got them all on disorderly conduct, public nuisance, blocking a public roadway. I might as well add vandalism to the charges."

Hoagie smiled and said, "Glad you could make it, sheriff."

"Better than paperwork, son," he said. He scanned the crowd with Hoagie and said, "Why don't you explain what's going on?"

Before Hoagie could speak, another voice cried out, "Some madwoman has taken over my station!"

Hoagie and Rucker both turned towards the new voice. Thomas Dugan was hauling his six-foot-four frame out of his car. He pushed aside protesters that got in his way and planted his considerable bulk in front of the shorter, thinner police officer. "Sheriff," he said as he smoothed down the front of his suit, "I want to know what you plan to do about this."

Rucker didn't seem intimidated by the behemoth currently looming over him. He placed his hands on his hips and calmly said, "Well, until I have a little more information, Mr. Dugan, I'm not sure what I can do. I had my deputy down here watching things, but he was called away. Mr. Hogan here was just about to explain exactly what was going on when you interrupted."

Hoagie explained it as best he could. He recapped the morning meeting, and the leave of absence Nadine had apparently been slapped with. Dugan scoffed and stepped in. "She should have just been fired, saved everyone all this trouble. No last show, just a severance check - a generous severance package, I should mention, Sheriff - to avoid all of this ballyhoo."

"Ballyhoo?" Hoagie said.

Dugan sighed and slowly said, "It means a ruckus."

Hoagie frowned. "I know what it means, you patronizing twit, it's just a stupid-sounding word."

Rucker held up his hands and said, "Gentlemen. Please. Now, I know you're not going to like hearing this, Mr. Dugan, but at the moment I don't think there's anything we can do."

"What?!"

"According to Mr. Hogan here, Miss Butler was allowed one final show. Did you agree to that with the station manager?"

Dugan huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, yes, we spoke briefly about..."

"Okay," Rucker interrupted. "Mr. Hogan, how long is she usually on the air?"

"Eleven 'til five," Hoagie said. His smirk said that he knew exactly where this was going.

Rucker looked at his watch and shook his head. "Well, there you go, Mr. Dugan. So far all she's guilty of is doing her job. The job you paid her to do, that you gave her permission to do one last time."

Dugan gestured at the building. "I did *not* give her permission to do this! I have a serious complaint with the, the, the content of this program!"

"File a complaint with the station manager and it will be addressed in a timely manner," Rucker said, "It's the way you handle all other complaints, so I don't see why this should be any different."

"If I could add, Sheriff?" Rucker nodded and Hoagie turned to the owner. "In your own words, Mr. Dugan, you don't know a darned thing about being on the radio. Said it when you hired me. You told me that you'd always be a hands-off boss. Said you'd be happy to let us follow our inspirations to make our shows the very best. It's how I became Hoagie and how Nadine became the Pixie."

"You cannot possibly think I meant..."

Rucker stepped between the men. "Okay, Mr. Hogan's assertion aside... it sounds like there's really nothing you can do, Mr. Dugan. If you'd like, I could make sure she doesn't attempt to re-enter the premises tomorrow morning."

"Tomorrow," Dugan scoffed. He put his hands on his hips and glared at the building. "Damn it. Fine. It's not worth it. Let her get her kicks, so long as she's gone tomorrow." He aimed a finger at Rucker and growled, "But I'll remember this, Rucker. Remember whose name is on your paychecks!"

Rucker frowned. "That would be your *brother's* name, wouldn't it?"

Dugan ignored the question and spun on his heel to storm back to his car.

Hoagie chuckled and said, "Thanks, Sheriff."

Rucker turned to him with a totally straight face. "Everything I said was the truth, Mr. Hogan. There's nothing I can do legally." He held the glare for a moment and then let a smile slip free. "It sure felt damn good to tell him that, though."

Hoagie laughed. "You're a good man, Sheriff. I almost wish I'd voted for ya. No offense."

"None taken. I never listen to your show."

Hoagie laughed and slapped the sheriff on the back. "You're all right, bud."

The sheriff returned the smile and resisted the urge to rub his shoulder. He was pretty sure it wasn't dislocated, but he'd sure like to be positive before he did any heavy lifting or crowd control.

---

"This is Nadine Butler and, if you're just joining us, we're having a special show today. Since I came out on Saturday, I have been met with hate, prejudice and anger. I'm trying to turn some of that around today by drawing together supporters. I've lost my advertisers, so this will be my last show on the air unless there's some sort of miracle. I'm counting on all of you out there for that miracle.

"If anyone out there is in the closet and wants to come out, please... call me. Come out here, on my show. The number is 232-KELF. Give me a call." She glanced across the board at Miranda. After their hug finally broke up, Miranda had asked to come into the booth. Nadine had barely hesitated. They had replaced the chair under the door as an added precaution against anyone trying to pull her out. Miranda had brought in her chair from the office and promised to remain until the end of the day.

Now there was no doubt; they were in this together.

They shared a smile and Nadine said, "Right now, we're going to clear off some of the call board so you *can* get in. If you try to call and get a busy signal, keep trying. I'm answering these as fast as I can. Just call back and we'll get to you."

She hit a button to send the feed to music and spoke to the caller on Line One. "Hi, you're on KELF with the Pixie."

"Hi, Nadine. Ah... Miss Butler. Sorry. I feel like I know you. But, um, my name is Clifton Gail, the manager at Gail's Seafood Shack? I just wanted to let you know my father is the one who pulled sponsorship, not me."

"I understand his decision, Mr. Gail. It may be inconvenient for me, of course, but..."

"No, I'm not done," he interrupted. "S-sorry. I-I'm not mad at you. Far from it. The reason I didn't pull the restaurant's sponsorship is because I didn't see what had changed. I don't think you should be persecuted this way. My father had no right to make that decision; he left the business to me years ago. And, as a business decision, I'm letting you know that your show will always be sponsored by Gail's Seafood Shack. Come hell or high water, as long as I'm in charge. You've always been my favorite DJ."

She laughed and said, "Thank you, Mr. Gail."

"Cliff."

"Thank you, Cliff."

She answered a few more calls and then turned on the mic. "Hey, everyone out there in the world. Thank you all for your calls and we're clearing the board just as fast as we can. Stick in there! We're going right back to the music right now with Mr. Bob Dylan and *All Around the Watchtower.* Stay tuned to the Pixie and keep those calls coming in, please!" She leaned back in her chair and smiled at Miranda. "Gail's Seafood Shack."

"You'd think they sold seesaws the way they keep going back and forth."

Nadine laughed and covered her mouth. "Yeah, you'd think. But I don't care. It's a step in the right direction. I know one sponsor won't change anything, but..."

"It sure feels good to know you're not alone."

"It does," Nadine said, looking pointedly into Miranda's eyes. She realized Miranda's hand was still on top of hers and debated whether or not to move it. She finally cleared her throat, squeezed Miranda's fingers, and created a task for that hand to do on the console. She set up the next song and leaned back. "Thank you again. For being here for me."

"You don't have to keep saying it."

She shrugged. "I keep being amazed by it. That you're here, that you're... that you're gay."

Miranda smiled.

"Let's do something together," Nadine blurted. She looked down and said, "When this is all over, I mean. Before I go riding off into the sunset, let's... get dinner. Go the mainland and see a show or something."

Miranda glanced at the console. "What... what about Kate?"

"She broke up with me this morning," Nadine said. "Well... no. That's a little harsh. We both decided it was best to end the relationship. We'd been in a lull for a very long time. My coming out was just the last nail in a very large coffin."

"Still," Miranda said. "I'm so sorry. Three years; that must... that must suck." She grimaced at the understatement and shook her head. "In that case, Dean, yes. I'd love to do something with you this weekend." Her eyes shifted to the console and pointed at the clock. "The song is almost over."

Nadine scrambled with the mic. "Damn it...!"

"How did you ever manage this without me?"

"It's easier without you here distracting me."

Miranda held up her hands. "Hey, I can leave."

She started to stand and Nadine lashed out. She grabbed the hem of Miranda's blouse and said, "You sit your ass down, missy."

Miranda smirked and took her seat again. She put her feet up on the counter and said, "Can I make a request?"

"Troublemakers don't get to make requests."

"Boo," Miranda said.

Nadine said, "There's Pepsi in the fridge if you get thirsty."

She pressed down a button as soon as the song set ended. "Hey, there. You're still on KELF, I'm still the Pixie and I am still taking a stand. We've got some Elton John coming up, oh, how appropriate, some Kansas, Sonny and Cher and lots more. So stick with me the rest of the day, you're sure to be entertained. I'm still taking your calls at 232-KELF. Let me know what's on your mind and let me know what you want to hear. I'm Nadine Butler and you are my last hope."

---

Since it seemed to keep the protesters on the opposite side of the street, Hoagie had remained outside. He leaned against the wall next to the main doors, arms crossed, Billy's mop clasped in one hand. He was so busy staring down the sea of picketers that he almost didn't turn around when he heard Billy knocking on the glass door. Hoagie finally realized he was trying to get his attention and turned around. "What's up?"

"Trouble, Mr. Hogan, I think," Billy said.

He pointed down the street and Hoagie finally saw the crowd moving his way. They were walking on the station-side of the street and seemed to be twice the size of the original mob. Hoagie tightened his grip on the mop and pushed away from the mob. He whistled through his teeth to get the sheriff's attention.

Rucker, who had returned to his car, looked up and then followed Hoagie's gaze to the end of the street. He saw the second mob and was out of his car by the time the group had reached KELF's front doors.

The new crowd was led by a brunette woman in an orange sweater and blue jeans. She wore an apron emblazoned with a logo: a steaming coffee cup sitting on top of an open book. She was holding a large tray covered with blue and white napkins.

Rucker held up a hand and said, "That's far enough, ma'am."

"No one's getting into the station today," Hoagie added. "Sorry."

The woman smiled at him. "I recognize your voice. You're Hoagie, aren't you? You have such a great voice for radio."

Hoagie, flustered, said, "People, ah, people usually say I have a *face* for radio..." He looked to Rucker for help.

Rucker said, "If you kind folks are here to protest, I suggest you do so in a..."

"Oh, no," the woman said. "No, you don't understand. My name is Amy Wellis and I run Coffee Table Books. Right around the corner there... See?" She moved the tray so they could better see the apron she was wearing. "That's the logo of my store. Anyway, I called Nadine's show and came out." She had been speaking at a near breathless, but this caused her to stop. Her eyes trailed from Hoagie down to the sidewalk and she softly repeated, "I came out."

Hoagie looked positively distraught. "Congrats."

"Thank you," Amy said. She was distracted for a moment longer and then shook her head. "Anyway. The cookies. I thought Nadine could use a little pick me up, a nice show of support from her friends and neighbors. It's gotta be a nice change from..." she jerked her head towards the crowd on the opposite side of the street.

"Who're the children of Hamelin?" Rucker asked.

"Children of... oh, that's *clever*," Amy laughed. She waved at the crowd behind her and said, "When I told people in my store what I wanted to do, they loaded up right behind me to come along. They want Nadine to know she's definitely not alone in this fight."

Hoagie took the tray from her and lifted up a corner flap. "I SUPPORT THE PIXIE" was emblazoned on each pink cookie. He picked one up and gestured to see if it was all right to eat it. Amy nodded and he bit off one corner. He chewed thoughtfully and then raised his eyebrows in appreciation. "That ain't half bad. Sheriff?"

"Don't mind if I do," Rucker said. He took one and looked at Hoagie. He shrugged and said, "I don't see what harm a single care package could do." He took the tray and walked to the front doors. Billy opened it for him and Rucker handed him the tray. "Take this up to Miss Butler. Tell her they're from Amy Wellis and the Pixie's loyal supporters at Coffee Table Books."

"Will do, sir!" Billy said. He looked down at the tray, looked at the crowd, and moved a step closer to Rucker. "Sheriff, sir, you think Miss Wellis would mind if I ate one of the cookies myself?"

"Well, no," Rucker said. He lowered his voice to the same conspiratorial whisper and added, "But even if she did, I'm sure Nadine would be happy to give you one herself. There's plenty to go around, and you're earning it by protecting this door. I'd say take two."

Billy smiled and took a cookie from the tray. He read the icing, smiled, and hurried towards the stairs with the tray carefully held with both hands. Rucker watched him go and then returned to Hoagie's side. Amy and her crowd had moved away from him a little and he shook his head at Rucker. "I'm all for this broadcast thing, the whole *viva la revolución* thing Nadine's got going on."

"But?" Rucker said.

"But it's hard enough finding a date on this island," he groaned. "If Nadine outs all the eligible bachelorettes, I'm gonna have to move to Spokane."

---

Miranda was the first to see Billy running across the bullpen. She stood up and removed their makeshift lock in time to intercept him before he could knock. "Miss Powell!" She took the tray and Billy closed his eyes, trying hard to remember the message he'd been given. "Sheriff Rucker says these are from Ms. Amy Wellis and the Pixie's loyal supporters at Coffee Table Books. I took two of the cookies for myself. I hope you don't mind, Miss Butler."

"I'd insist on it, Billy. Thank you."

"Yes, ma'am," he panted. "I gotta get back. Guarding the door and all that."

Nadine rose so he could see her and said, "Thank you so much for keeping us safe, Billy."

He nodded. "I would be out there on the street, weren't for you, Miss Butler."

"Please, Billy. Call me Nadine. I'm begging you."

"Okay. Nadine." He nodded to her and said, "I'm here for you even if you wanna sleep with... like, animals." His words were sincere, but he grimaced at the thought.

"I don't want to sleep with animals," Nadine assured him with a laugh.

"That's good, Miss Nadine. I better get back!" He saluted both women as he turned around and headed back to the stairs.

Miranda carried the tray over and Nadine wondered, "Why do people always go straight from gay to bestiality?"

"Lot of sickos out there," Miranda said. She put the chair back under the door and uncovered the cookies. "Aw, how sweet." She put the tray down on the table and picked one of the cookies off the pile. "You have fans."

Nadine smiled. "You laugh, but yesterday I was starting to wonder if anyone..." She picked at the icing on one of the cookies and shook her head. "It's really nice."

"Yeah, it..." She hesitated and turned towards the window.

Nadine glanced at the controls and saw nothing amiss. "What's wrong?"

"Do you hear that?"

"The booth is sort of soundproof," Nadine said

Miranda stood and walked to the small window that overlooked the harbor. Nadine followed her and they leaned forward to the glass together. Very faintly, they could hear a chant rising from the street. "Three... Free. Free the..." Her face broke out in a smile and she said, "Free the Pixie."

"Free the Pixie," Miranda confirmed with a smile.

Nadine blushed. "My loyal supporters from Coffee Table Books."

"Loyal indeed," Miranda said.

"They like me. They really like me," Nadine chuckled. It had been a joke, but her eyes were welling up with tears. She bit her lip and brushed her hand under her glasses.

"They..."

Miranda's comeback was cut off by Nadine's kiss. Her eyes widened, her hands resting on Nadine's upper arms as she tried to decide what to do next. When Nadine's tongue flickered against her mouth, Miranda groaned and succumbed to the kiss. She pressed Nadine against the wall and returned the kiss. Nadine was a fantastic kisser; lips and tongue in just the right amount, not forceful, just right. Nadine's hands slid under the hem of Miranda's blazer and found warm flesh.

They continued to grope one another, Nadine's hands in Miranda's hair, Miranda's hands roaming Nadine's back and pushing her shirt higher and higher. Nadine groaned into Miranda's mouth and pulled her closer. She brought her leg up and curled it around Miranda's hip. Miranda growled low in her throat and broke the kiss to nip at Nadine's neck. Her hand had made the journey to the center of Nadine's back, dragging her blouse along with it, and she closed her fingers around the clasp of Nadine's bra.

Nadine felt what she was doing and suddenly went rigid. She moved her hands from hair to shoulder to ease Miranda away. "Wait, wait, wait," she gasped.

Miranda abandoned her neck, moving her lips to Nadine's cheek. "What?" she whispered. "Put on *American Pie* or *Paradise by the Dashboard Light* or something... something really... long." She snapped the clasp of Nadine's bra.

Nadine closed her eyes and said, "Yes... God, but no... no, Miranda..."

Miranda backed off immediately. She was flushed, her eyes glazed and her blouse rumpled where they had been pressed together. Nadine licked her lips, tasting crumbs of the cookie Miranda had eaten. She reached behind her back to refasten her bra as she explained. "Miranda, I'm not rejecting you, it's just... my relationship with Kate was entirely about sex. We slept together the first night we were a couple and... I-I think that set the tone for the three years that came after. You can call me an idiot, but..."

"You're not an idiot," Miranda said. "I've been there. God, have I been there... but I know exactly what you're talking about. If we... jumped into bed together it would probably cause problems down the road..."

"We wouldn't be jumping into bed," Nadine said, fingers still hovering over her lips in disbelief. She cleared her throat and said, "It would probably be on the floor here, or in your office. On top of your desk would..."

"You are really, *really* not helping, Nadine."

Nadine snapped her teeth together and smiled. "Sorry." She brushed past Miranda, feeling a bit of static that she told herself was just from the carpet, and dropped back into her seat. "The song is almost over."

"Yeah," Miranda said.

"What was your request? You... said you had a request."

"*The Sun Ain't Gonna Shine Anymore.*"

"The Walker Brothers?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, I'll try and get that on for you. Thanks for calling and keep listening to KELF."

Miranda threw a napkin at Nadine and it hit her in the head. Nadine chuckled and put her hand on Miranda's thigh. She let her hand linger, just a little below the hem of her skirt, before she withdrew it. Miranda was sure she felt the ghost of those fingers for another few minutes before they finally faded.

11 -

"Hello again, thank you for joining us on KELF, I am the Pixie. I can see the ferry pulling into the dock right now, so I want to say hello to any tourists who may have their radios tuned to 1220. Since you're just joining us, let me fill you in on what's going on. We're in the middle of a... very special broadcast. You see, a few days ago, I came out of the closet as a gay woman. Since then, well... a lot has happened. Too much to go into. But the main point is I was fired from this radio station. Advertisers were pulling out and it wasn't 'financially feasible' to keep me on.

"So, I was given this one final show to say good-bye and I'm doing it the best way I know how; I'm giving every other gay person on this island an outlet." She smirked at Miranda. "So to speak. I'm giving them a forum where they can come out without feeling persecuted or judged. You don't have to give your name and you don't have to be on the air if you don't want to. I totally understand not being ready.

"But if you are ready... if you want to come out on the show, please, give me a call at 232-KELF. That's 232-5353. I'm looking forward to hearing from you. And to any tourists on the ferry; welcome to our little island. I may be a lame duck, but I'm still taking your requests. Give me a call. Right now, we've got *The Boxer* by Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel. I'm cut and I'm down, but the fighter still remains. This is the Pixie on KELF AM 1220."

Miranda broke in half the cookie she'd been nibbling on and tossed the uneaten half back onto the plate. She'd taken off her jacket and was sitting in the booth in her sleeveless white blouse. Nadine leaned back and admired her. As great as Miranda's legs were, she mused, her arms were quite something themselves. She looked over to see Miranda's lips closed around the word "PIXIE" and smirked. She didn't say anything about the symbolism of Miranda's snack, however. "Getting your fill?" she asked.

"Of you or of the cookies?" Miranda groaned. She put her hand on her stomach and glanced at the clock. "Wow. Time really does fly in here, huh?"

"Yeah," Nadine said sadly. The arrival of the ferry meant she had three hours and twenty minutes left on the air. It didn't feel like enough time; not enough time at all. "I can't believe this is it."

Miranda turned her chair and looked at Nadine. "Have you always wanted to be a DJ?"

"Always," Nadine said. "My parents own Butler Photography, across the street...?"

Miranda blinked and glanced towards the front wall of the station. "I... I pass that building every day. I can't believe I never put that together."

Nadine smiled. "Anyway, from the time I was really young, I used to come over here and hassle the receptionist. Before long, the DJs found out about this little squirt that was stalking their place of business and started inviting me upstairs. I sat in the booth during the show, I ran out and bought them snacks when they were hungry... when I was fifteen, I got Billy's job. Cleaning up trash, hanging around in case anything needed to be done. I went to school, got a degree in broadcasting and came back to the Elf."

"Who gave you the Pixie nickname?"

"Christopher Hamm. Hamm Bone, they called him. He used to introduce me by saying that he needed some cheering up and he'd sprinkle some fairy dust. My intro was some musical chimes that he'd play to cover the sound of the door opening. 'Here's my little pixie now!'" She smiled and twisted her seat back and forth. "He's the one who suggested I become a disc jockey. I was content behind the scenes, but he loved my voice. He gave me the push I needed to get through school."

"What about your parents?"

Nadine looked at the song counter. "Butler Photography is the family business. With me breaking tradition, it'll probably close down when he and Mama retire. Either that or it'll go into the hands of someone else. Whichever happens, it doesn't matter. I let him down and he's hated me ever since for it." She bit her bottom lip and smiled. "What the hell, right? People have given up a lot worse for their dreams..."

Miranda took Nadine's hand off the console and held it.

"It's why you sticking up for me meant so much. I'm... not exactly used to it."

"Well, get used to it," Miranda suggested with a smile. "I'm here for the long haul."

Nadine brushed off her cheeks and glanced at the phone bank. "I should answer these. God, I never expected to get so many calls..." She answered the first blinking light. "This is Nadine and you're on with the Pixie. What's your name?"

"I'm Jake."

"Hi, Jake. You want to hear a song?"

"No, I'm calling about the other thing. The gay thing?"

"Uh-huh," she said warily.

"Well, I'm a straight guy, but... you know, if sleeping with women makes *you* bad at *your* job, maybe that's the reason I'm bad at my job."

She frowned and raised her eyebrow at Miranda. "Are you... bad at your job, Jake?"

"Yeah, I kind of am."

Nadine and Miranda both laughed and Nadine said, "Jake, do you think I'm bad at my job?"

"No, I think you're great! But I've only been listening for, like, five minutes. I came over on the ferry."

"Well, let me win you over. What do you wanna hear? We're a classic rock station, by the way."

"Something by the Beach Boys...?"

"*Something* is by the Beatles, Jake."

"Hah, laugh riot. Let me hear some *Good Vibrations.*"

"You've got it, Jake. And guess what? You are my Tourist of the Day." She hit a button and a pre-recorded sound effect of the ferry horn played. She said, "Since Gail's Seafood coupons are all I'm allowed to hand out, it'll have to do. Just make sure you pick it up so you have time to eat before you head back to the mainland. Sound good, Jake?"

"Sounds awesome! Stay strong, Pixie."

"You too, Straight Man. What's your last name, so we don't accidentally give your coupon to someone else?"

"Paulson."

"Okay, Jake. Come on by the station sometime before five and we'll feed you."

"Awesome. Thanks!"

She disconnected and said, "We do have coupons for Gail's, right?"

Miranda nodded and stood up. "I'll go grab one out of my desk, give it to Hoagie or Billy. I'll be right back."

As Miranda walked to the door, Nadine turned in her seat and watched her go. She focused on the way Miranda moved; the sway of her hips, the way her legs seemed to go on forever into that skirt, the curve of her ass underneath the... She bit her lip and looked up to see Miranda smiling over her shoulder. "Pervert," she snickered before she slipped out of the room.

Nadine answered another call. "Hello, you're on with the Pixie..."

---

Miranda walked the coupon down to Hoagie, gave him the kid's name and told him what he'd won. When she returned, she sat down and leaned back in her chair. "So, do you do that a lot?"

Nadine held up a finger and spoke into the microphone. "Okay, I'll try to get that on for you. Thanks for listening to KELF and thank you for your support." She disconnected and turned to Miranda. "Do what?"

"You know," Miranda said. She gestured over her shoulder and said, "Check me out."

Nadine blushed and rubbed the back of her neck. "The truth? Yeah. Kind of a lot. Mostly when you wear skirts or those pants that end just below the knee... God, what are those called?"

"Capri," Miranda said. "You really like my legs?" She bent her knees and examined her calves, running her hand over them as if she'd never seen them before.

Nadine exhaled and said, "Yeah. So, um... stop touching them or we'll have to play *American Pie.* Twice."

Miranda smirked and moved her hands away from her legs.

Nadine smiled and fanned herself. "So, okay. While we're sharing secrets, tit for tat. Have you ever looked at *me*?"

Miranda hesitated and finally gave a slow nod. "Yeah. Occasionally, I've watched your show from the window with a... less than managerial interest."

"Like when? Give me an example."

It was Miranda's turn to blush. "Are we really going to do this?"

"Oh, yeah," Nadine said. "The song's got three more minutes and the phone lines aren't too crazy at the moment..." She leaned forward and smiled evilly. "So tell me, Miss Powell. When have you ever checked me out?"

Miranda thought for a moment and said, "Well, one day springs to mind. Last summer, you came to work wearing this sexy little dress. Thin shoulder straps, very light material. Your legs were... so, so tan..."

"I'd been at the beach, I think," Nadine remembered.

"I can believe it. You looked practically char-broiled. But it looked good on you! Don't get me wrong." She cleared her throat and shrugged. "Anyway, because of the thin straps and how low it was cut in the front, you were wearing a t-shirt underneath it. And I spent that entire day wondering how great the dress would have looked on you without the t-shirt."

Nadine arched an eyebrow. "Undressing me with your eyes, were you?"

"Just down to the t-shirt!" Miranda quickly added.

"Well. Still," Nadine shrugged. She glanced towards the phone lines to make sure they weren't getting crazy. "It's..." Her voice cut off and she straightened slightly in her chair.

Miranda straightened and glanced at the console. "Dean? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Nadine murmured. She punched a button and the "On Air" light came to life. "That was *Uncle Albert/Admiral Halsey* by Paul and Linda McCartney. Uh, we're... going right back to some music right now so I can answer some more calls. I'll be right back with you here on KELF."

She leaned back and looked at the flashing lights of calls waiting to be answered. After a moment, she said, "Miranda... please don't take this the wrong way, but would... you mind leaving for a few minutes?"

Miranda glanced at the Caller ID. "What is it?"

"I'll be okay, I just... I need to answer this call alone."

"Okay," Miranda said. She leaned in and kissed Nadine's cheek, letting her lips linger a bit longer than necessary. "I'll go downstairs and check on Hoagie. Are you sure you'll be all right?"

Nadine nodded and waited until Miranda was gone before she looked back at the Caller ID. The display cut off the full name, but it was hard to ignore what "Butler Photogra" meant. She cleared her throat and hit the button. "Hi..."

"Nadine."

She jerked and nearly pushed her chair away from the table. She gripped the edge of the table with shaking hands and focused on the solid yellow light of the line. She swallowed and quietly said, "Daddy?" Her mind started to fill in the empty space after she spoke; she wondered if he would call her names or just get right to disowning her. After what seemed like an eternity, he began to speak.

"Nadine, are you really doing this?" His voice was calm, but she could hear a tremor of fury working under the surface. "You're making a goddamn spectacle, girl. You come out of there right now and end this foolishness. I--"

"No, Daddy," Nadine said. She shocked herself not only by the firm denial, but by interrupting the man for the first time in her life. Hell, it was probably the first time in his life that he'd been interrupted by anyone. "I've been wronged and I'm not just going to sit down and take it. Do you understand that? You may not agree with who I am or even this job that I'm trying to save. But you have to understand that all I'm doing is standing up for my beliefs. And I won't stand down. You wouldn't want me to."

Another pause. She felt goosebumps on her arms and hugged herself to quiet them. Her father's silence was the most terrifying thing she'd ever heard, but she refused to be the one who broke it. It was up to him to hang up, to give in. Twice, she started to apologize and twice she bit down on her tongue to keep from saying anything. Let him break the stand-off. Let him...

"Your mother said you'd say that."

She blinked. She'd won. Dear God in heaven, she'd stood up to her father and she had *won.*

He continued, "All of this, the... broadcast and the call-in thing. You're just doing what you think is right. Your mom said I would be proud of anyone else. And you know... it hurts that I only turned my back on you *because* you were my daughter. I didn't realize it had gotten to that point with us. My fault, I suppose. God knows *you* tried to be civil." He cleared his throat and he said, "Forget what I said a minute ago, Nadine. You don't let anyone pull you out of that booth before you're ready. You hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Nadine said, wiping at her cheeks.

"I'm proud of you, Dean."

She sobbed and said, "Thank you, Daddy."

"I'll... I'll see you."

"Yeah, Daddy. I-I have to go back on the air..."

"Okay. I'm sorry I made you cry."

She laughed. "It's okay, Daddy. I love you, Daddy."

"I love you, too, Nadine."

Nadine barely managed to push the button to disconnect the call before she put her head down on the desk. She wept, big body-shaking sobs that kept her from hearing the door open. A hand landed in the middle of her back and she jumped as Miranda leaned over her shoulder. She gently pried Nadine out of the chair and traded places with her. Nadine let herself be guided onto Miranda's lap and buried her face against her neck.

Miranda pulled the microphone close and hit the on-air button. In a smooth, professional radio voice, she said, "We apologize for the delay. We're experiencing a brief technical difficulty. Please stay tuned and Nadine will be back after *Eleanor Rigby* by the Beatles."

She pushed the microphone away, started the song and turned her full attention to Nadine. Nadine let herself be held and began shaking with the force of her tears. Miranda smoothed down the back of Nadine's hair and whispered soft words in her ear. When the sobs died down, Miranda said, "Who was it? Who the hell hurt you?"

"No," Nadine whispered. She turned her head and kissed Miranda's neck. "Thank you, but no. I'm... they're happy tears, I swear." She pulled her head back and kissed Miranda's lips. Her heart soared and her tears began to flow once more.

---

When Miranda had left the booth, she had gone directly downstairs. Billy was standing just inside the front doors of the station, a sentry against any unauthorized entrance and gatekeeper to those who belonged. She put a hand on his shoulder as she passed, thanking him for his work, and stepped out into the sunshine. It felt like years since she'd been outside, decades since the broadcast had begun.

Hoagie was seated on the sidewalk outside and keeping his eyes on the crowd. Sheriff Rucker was parked across the street, a barrier between the mob and the station. To Hoagie's left, Amy and one of the workers from Coffee Table Books had set up a table with drinks, cookies and donuts.

Miranda stopped next to Hoagie and said, "Everything calm out here?"

"Hey, Miss Powell. And yeah, everything's a-okay. That Jake kid stopped by to pick up his coupon already."

"Good. Glad to hear it."

"How is Nadine holding up?"

"She's doing well, so far," Miranda said. She looked up and saw the small window that looked out onto the harbor. What was going on in there? Who had called? She fought the urge to run back up the stairs and fight the battle for Nadine, protect her from whatever had made the blood drain out of her face that way. She shook her head and scanned the street. "No problems I should know about...?"

"Nothing the sheriff and I can't handle. Those Coffee Table chicks offered to protect Nadine when she came out. Make sure no one tries anything."

"Her own personal Secret Service," Miranda smiled. She chuckled at the image of a cookie maker and her patrons surrounding Nadine as she walked to her bike and patted Hoagie's shoulder. "Okay, I better get back in there. Thanks for being here, Hoagie."

"No problem. Happy to help."

She walked back upstairs and saw Nadine with her head down on the desk. She ran across the bullpen and burst into the broadcast booth. She went to Nadine and felt her heart wrench with each quiet sob. She put her hand in the middle of Nadine's back and swore that whoever had been on the other end of the line, whatever they had said, they were dead meat.

---

When the tears stopped and Nadine had explained the call, Miranda felt her rage begin to ebb. She shifted them both so Nadine was no longer in her arms and got them both a can of soda out of the fridge. As she sat down, she shook her head in amazement. "Your father accepts you. That's... that's huge, Dean."

"I don't know about accepting me," Nadine corrected. "He never said he was okay with me being gay and he never forgave me for 'abandoning' the family business. He just said he understood my reasons and supported me standing up for my rights. Still... big day."

Miranda nodded. "Big day indeed." She toasted Nadine and touched their cans together.

Nadine smiled and said, "I'm going to take some more calls." She answered the first line and said, "This is KELF and you're on with the Pixie."

---

"My name is Kevin Dawes and I've been in a relationship with the same man for fifteen years. We were in an openly gay marriage for ten of those years until we moved to Squire's Isle. We came out to a couple of people when we first got here and saw their reactions change in a heartbeat. We knew we'd never be accepted, so we went in the closet, firmly shut the door. We've been hiding ever since, but no more. Thanks, Nadine."

"Thank you for calling, Kevin. May I ask your partner's name or...?"

"His name is Alex."

"Hi, Alex. Kevin, is there anything you'd like to hear?"

"Yeah, I'd like to hear *Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)* by Sly and the Family Stone."

"Ooh, I love that song. It's appropriate, and it has Elf in the title. Thanks for calling, Kevin."

---

"KELF, hello. You're on with the Pixie."

"Hi, Nadine."

Nadine tensed and looked at Miranda. "Kate, hello."

"I've been listening to your entire show. I'm home now, they... they released me about an hour ago. I am so damn proud of you, babe."

"Thank you, Kate. Are you feeling well...?"

"I am. I wanted to call and..." She cleared her throat. "You can play this on the air, Nadine. My name is Kathryn Price. I'm a reporter for the Squire's Isle *Register* and it was my article that caused all of these problems for Nadine. And I want to admit to the town, to my employers, to everyone listening right now that... I am a lesbian."

Nadine closed her eyes. "Are you okay, Kate?"

"I'm fine," she said softly. "I'm going to be just fine. Thank you, Nadine."

"Thank *you,* Kate. I love you."

"Love you," Kate said.

She disconnected the call and felt Miranda's hand on her thigh. She smiled and turned for the hug she knew was waiting. If there was one thing she already knew about Miranda Powell... the woman was big on hugs.

---

"You're on with the Pixie."

"You're going to hell, you know. All gays are--"

"If I'm going to hell, you can finish you're thought when you run into me down there. All right, chief?" Miranda covered her mouth to keep from laughing on the air. "Next caller, please."

---

"KELF, talk to me."

"You know what the problem with America is?"

She kept her finger over the disconnect button. "No. What's the problem with America, sir?"

"That with divorce, broken homes, children growing up with single-parent families, that we're making such a big deal out of someone loving someone else. If you're happy, more power to you. As long as you're in love, I could care less who it's with."

"Thank you very much for calling, sir. Can I play anything for you?"

---

"You're on the air with the Pixie."

"Hello, Miss Butler. My name is Amelia Judah. I work at the library and I'm not calling about the overdue book you have out."

"I appreciate that, Mrs. Judah. And, uh, I'll... get it to you as soon as possible."

"Good girl. I was listening to your show and I realized it's partially the library's fault you're in this pickle. When the subject of inappropriate content was raised, I volunteered to read the book in question. I have to admit, I found it... not to my liking. But I did *not* find anything objectionable and I didn't support taking it off the shelves."

"Thank you for being honest, Mrs. Judah."

"Well, I could hardly do anything else, dear. I'd have to look it up to get the entire quote, but I remember the end. 'When they came for me, there was no one left to speak out for me.' You can't, and shouldn't, go quietly. Good girl, Miss Butler. And seeing as how you're under the threat of unemployment, we'll waive the five cent overdue charge on your book. Granted you get it in before next week."

"I'll do my level best, Mrs. Judah. Thank you very much for your call and for reminding us of that wonderful quote. Can I play anything for you?"

---

Creedence Clearwater Revival, Jackson Browne and Pink Floyd broke up the rest of the calls. Nadine leaned back and talked to Miranda while the music played and put her feet in Miranda's chair. Miranda shifted to one side and lightly massaged Nadine's feet as they spoke. Halfway through an Aerosmith song, Nadine suddenly realized they were being more intimate than she and Kate had ever been. She smiled and pinned Miranda's fingers between her feet.

"Cut that out," Miranda chuckled.

"Sorry."

"No, you're not," Miranda smiled.

"No, I'm not. I love how comfortable I am with you. I've known you for all this time, we're... friends, right?"

Miranda nodded. "I don't have many friends. But I've counted you as one of mine for a while. Even if I never really showed it before this week."

Nadine nodded her understanding and toyed with the tab of her soda can. "I think this is how it's supposed to be. Love and relationships. You can't just grab someone, take them home, end up with them the rest of your life. That's what I was trying to do with Kate. But you need a basis of some sort if you really want to make it last."

"I don't believe that," Miranda said.

"No?"

"No. I think you *can* stumble over the person you're supposed to be with. You don't need an existing relationship just to make your romance work. Otherwise Simon would have to marry Willa."

Nadine frowned. "I thought Simon *was* married to Willa."

Miranda shook her head. "No, of course not. But... while I don't think it's necessary? I certainly think it helps." She smoothed her hands down Nadine's ankles and caressed her calves.

Nadine blushed.

Miranda smiled and glanced at the clock. "Oh, Dean..."

Nadine turned and felt her good mood flee the room. It was three minutes to five. She pulled her feet from Miranda's grasp and turned to face the microphone. She silenced the song that had been playing and pulled the microphone closer.

"Well, ladies and gentlemen, it's almost five o'clock. That will be it for me. For now, maybe for good. I wanted one last show, I wanted what I was promised: that I could come on here, play some music and say what I wanted to say. So many people stood up to help make sure that happened... I'd be lost without them. Miranda Powell, Joe Hogan, Billy..." She glanced at Miranda, eyes wide. "I... I'm sorry, Billy, I don't know your last name. Amy Wellis, the cookies were delicious.

"I want to thank everyone who called in. Everyone who came out today and those who will be inspired by this show to come out in the near future. Coming out was one of the greatest things that's happened to me. It's changed my life and I can honestly say I think it's changed me for the better." She felt a hand on her shoulder and reached up to hold it. "Thank you to my listeners. Thank you to everyone who believed in me and who believes in me still. Thank you, Clifton Gail, for standing up for yourself and for being behind me.

"We've only got a couple of minutes left. I was promised one show and that's all I'll take up. Hoagie is right downstairs and I'll be sending him up on my way down. I'm going to clean up the booth for him so he can abandon his watchtower downstairs. And I'm pretty sure Hoagie doesn't have any diatribes he wants to go off on, so it should be pure music and contests and, and all that stuff I know you guys love."

She bit her thumb and blinked away tears. "All I ever wanted was to be a disc-jockey. I wanted to be paid to play music and talk to people who loved it as much as I did. No matter how it ends, I got to live my dream. What else can anyone ask for? Thank you. To everyone who has ever listened to me, to anyone who has ever cared about some little girl sitting in a booth playing music. This song is for everyone in December Harbor and everyone on Squire's Isle. I think it sums up what I wanted to say pretty nicely. This is... this is... Nadine Butler. Your KELF Pixie. S-signing off. Good-bye, everyone."

She hit a button and *Imagine* by John Lennon began to play.

She looked over the console for a moment and ran her hand over the assorted buttons and controls. She leaned back in the chair and took in the view out the window, the small sailboats, the tree-lined shore that made the northern cup of the harbor and the clear, blue winter sky. The booth was tiny, it was dark and it had a not-unpleasant odor to it, but it was home. It had been her favorite place in the world ever since she was a little girl. To say good-bye to it was almost too much.

Miranda stood and held out her hand. Nadine took it and let Miranda pull her to her feet. She gathered the cookies while Miranda put her jacket back on and they walked from the booth hand-in-hand. Nadine leaned against Miranda's shoulder and said, "What a show."

"What a show," Miranda said with a smile. Nadine squeezed her hand.

As they came downstairs, Billy crossed the lobby to intercept them. When he saw Nadine, he broke into a smile that threatened to break his face in two. "Hey, Miss Butler. You made it."

"I sure did, Billy." She paused and said, "Billy, I'm so sorry I have to ask this, but what is your last name?"

"Joseph, ma'am."

Nadine slipped her hand out of Miranda's and walked over to him. She kissed him once on each cheek and solemnly said, "Thank you for protecting me today, William Joseph."

His dark cheeks flashed bright red and he unlocked the door for her. Nadine retook Miranda's hand and they walked out of the building together. The world exploded in a cacophony of noise. From their left, Amy and her Coffee Table Book patrons let up a cheer. From directly ahead of them, the protesters echoed a chorus of sneers and name-calling. They thrust their placards in the air and began a chant: "Ho-mos must-go! Ho-mos must-go!"

Sheriff Rucker and Deputy White's patrol cars were parked tail-to-nose at the curb and both officers were standing in the street between the station and the mob.

When Nadine reached Hoagie, she offered her free hand and helped him to his feet. His knees popped as he rose and he brushed off the seat of his pants. He smiled and said, "Looks like you made it, Pixie. Wish I could've been there to hear it."

"Trust me," Miranda said. "Someone somewhere recorded every word."

Hoagie smiled. "Nadine, I've been thinking. Why don't you come back up and sit in on my show? Special guest co-host, that sort of thing. I'd take a backseat and you could..."

"Hoagie, no," Nadine interrupted. "Thank you, and I love you for thinking of it, but... but no. I don't want you to get into trouble. All I wanted was the last show I was promised and I've got it. Thanks to you." She kissed his cheek and patted his muscular forearm. "I'm satisfied. Really."

He shifted and said, "Well. So long as you're sure..."

"The offer means the world to me, Hoagie. But it wouldn't be the same. I'd feel like I was cheating."

"I understand that," he said. He kissed her cheek and said, "Take care of yourself, Nadine. Don't be a stranger."

Miranda guided Nadine to the bike rack and looked over her shoulder at the crowd. "Are you sure you don't want a ride? You could always come back and get your bike when things have calmed down a little."

"Nope. I'm not changing my habits just because of a couple of close-minded idiots. The sooner they see I won't be scared away, the sooner they'll stop trying."

Hoagie had already gone back into the station and Rucker was crossing the street to tell them he and White were leaving. Nadine pulled her key from the pocket of her jeans and was about to unlock her bike's chain when someone yelled out her name - "Nadine Butler!" She lifted her head and turned in the direction of the voice. Miranda and Rucker both turned their bodies in response to the call and, for one split second, they left Nadine exposed to the crowd.

She never saw what hit her, but she did hear the impact. Strangely enough, it seemed to come from behind her ears rather than in the middle of her face where she was hit. The impact made a quiet *thock,* a solid and yet somehow hollow sound that was followed by a quiet snap. Nadine screamed and covered her face as she fell backward, warm liquid - it couldn't be blood, it couldn't be blood - trickled down her nose. It started to get in her eyes and she screwed them shut as tight as she could.

She hit the ground, covering her face and screaming as Rucker ran back towards the already-dispersing mob and Miranda was frantically yelling for someone to call an ambulance and Hoagie burst back out of the building at the sounds of the screams and sirens began shriek in the chilly afternoon air.

12 -

When it came time to decide between pursuing the mob and helping Nadine, Rucker turned back. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder as he passed his deputy. White didn't need anything else; he jumped into the squad car and peeled off after the fleeing former mob. Rucker dropped to his knees next to Nadine and pulled a white handkerchief from his pocket. He whipped it once and carefully eased Nadine's hands away from her face. He winced when he saw the bloody slash between her eyebrows. He covered the wound with the handkerchief and pressed down to staunch the bleeding. "What the hell happened?" he asked.

"I don't know," Miranda said. "She just fell down. She, she just *fell.*"

He looked down and saw the pieces of her glasses. A chunk of concrete from the construction site on the corner lay a few feet away. He growled and said, "Help me stand her up." They each took an arm to support her and, keeping his cloth pressed to Nadine's face, Rucker motioned towards his car with his chin. Halfway across the street, Nadine's entire body went limp and threatened to drag Miranda to the ground. Rucker hooked an arm under Nadine's and took most of her weight onto his shoulder to keep her upright. "She's fainted."

They managed to get her into the backseat of the patrol car. Miranda squeezed in next to her and Rucker transferred the cloth to her hand. "Hold this to the wound as tight as you can, okay?"

Miranda only nodded, too afraid she would burst into tears if she spoke. She sat with her legs folded underneath her on the seat, terrified to look under the handkerchief for what she might find. Rucker rounded the front of the car and slid behind the wheel. "What happened? What the hell was that?"

"Someone threw a damned rock," Rucker growled. He peeled away from the curb and flipped the switch for the siren.

As they passed the front door of the station, Miranda looked up and saw Hoagie and Billy standing on the sidewalk and watching them past. Both looked dumbfounded, lost. Miranda, fingertips wet with Nadine's blood, felt an insane thought that they better not be broadcasting dead air. She cursed herself for such an idiotic concern and turned away from the window to focus on her friend.

The hospital was only four blocks away, but it felt like the trip took them all day.

---

An hour later, Nadine opened her eyes and immediately wished she'd kept them shut. The blinds were open, sending shafts of the twilight sun like napalm across her face. Her head was throbbing, both at the temples and between her eyes. When she brought her hand up to probe the painful migraine, she found a piece of gauze between her eyebrows instead of the familiar bridge of her glasses. Judging from the sounds all around her, she wasn't in a personal room. That was good; whatever had happened wasn't bad enough that she needed to be admitted. She turned her head out of the sun and cracked an eyelid to look for a call button. A doctor appeared at her bedside before she managed to find the button.

The doctor said, "Glad to see you're awake."

She had opened her eyes, but without her glasses the world was a miserable blur. The doctor's voice was vaguely familiar, but Nadine blamed it on her job; she'd probably spoken to half the people on the island, if not more. She asked, "What happened?"

"It seems you were hit in the face with a rock. Piece of concrete sidewalk. Can you sit up?"

Nadine nodded. "If you help me." The doctor wrapped her hand around Nadine's forearm and helped her pivot into a sitting position. Nadine winced as another lance ran through her forehead and she touched her temple. "Am I okay?"

"Other than a pair of shiners and the massive headache, yeah. I think you'll be just fine." She slipped a penlight from her pocket and said, "Look here." She swept the light up into Nadine's eye, held it and then dropped it back down. She repeated the gesture with the left eye and nodded at whatever she saw. "You didn't pass out... you just fainted from the shock of what happened. Completely normal reaction. As for the wound, the glasses saved you. There will be kind of an ugly mark for a while, but when it's healed you won't even see a scar. The headaches can be dealt with by taking aspirin. I wouldn't recommend anything stronger at the moment, but if the aspirin doesn't help, you can see someone about a prescription."

"Okay," Nadine said.

The doctor moved towards the door and then paused. She pulled the curtain and walked back to Nadine's bedside. "On a personal note, I listened to your show most of the day. I would have called in, but... I saw what had happened to you and started worrying about patients refusing treatment. I couldn't come out publicly, but when you showed up here, well... I do hate having to do it under these circumstances, but I'm gay."

Nadine smiled. "I know."

The doctor blinked. "What? How could you...?"

Nadine squinted. "I'm not sure without my glasses, but you *are* Doctor Tom, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"You treated my gi... my former girlfriend. Kate Price? When I showed up, you treated me like a spouse, not a concerned friend. I had my suspicions then, but... Well. Suffice to say, I'm not exactly surprised."

Dr. Tom cleared her throat and said, "Well. I guess I am talking to the town expert."

Nadine groaned and said, "Oh, God, I *am* going to be the town's poster lesbian, aren't I?"

Dr. Tom laughed and said, "You can leave whenever you're steady enough to walk. In the meantime, some of your friends are in the waiting room. Should I let them in?"

"Just Miranda for now."

Dr. Tom smiled and said, "Would've been my choice, too. Just a moment."

She left, and the sounds of the ER filtered in. She closed her eyes, sick of seeing the world as a fuzzy half-image, and listened for the sound of Miranda's shoes on the tile. She heard someone yell at a doctor, a file clattered onto a desk and someone grumbled about how expensive their crappy coffee was.

She didn't realize she had almost fallen asleep until she felt a hand on her elbow and Miranda quietly spoke. "Dean? Are you awake, hon?"

She opened her eyes. Miranda was a woman-shaped blob a few steps from the bed. "I'm fine. Headache like you wouldn't believe, but... yeah." She closed her eyes and rubbed her temple. "And it doesn't help that I can barely see anything..."

"Would these help?" she asked. She held up Nadine's glasses. The rock had broken them in half at the bridge, but someone had wrapped it with tape to hold them together. "I had to do *something* while I was waiting... Billy picked them up and brought them from the station and a nurse gave me the tape. I, uh, I hope you don't mind looking like Steve Urkel."

"Thank you," Nadine said. She touched the tape and slipped the glasses back on. If nothing else, it would help hide the gauze on her face. She looked up and blinked as Miranda and the rest of the world came back into focus. The glasses felt remarkably fragile and the lenses seemed to be scratched from their meeting with the pavement, but all-in-all, a much nicer picture.

"It's much better, thank you," she said. She took Miranda's hand, using her as balance so she could slip off the bed. Her arm wrapped around Miranda's waist out of instinct and neither of them pulled away from the intimacy of the new position. "Did Rucker catch whoever threw it?"

"No. The crowd broke up as soon as you went down. Deputy White went after them and handed out a bunch of citations for misdemeanors like disturbing the peace. But no one owned up to throwing the rock."

Nadine sighed and said, "Probably too much to hope for, voluntarily turning themselves in. Cowards."

Miranda smiled and said, "You up to walking?"

"With some help, yes," she said. She clapped her hand over Miranda's and slid off the bed. She felt steady enough to walk on her own, but it felt much better using Miranda as a crutch for the moment.

They stepped out of the curtained-off area and Miranda led her to the small waiting room. As opposed to the one upstairs, the ground-floor room had a picture window and two lamps that flooded it with light. Nadine was grateful her friends hadn't been trapped in the tiny, dark waiting room upstairs and smiled when she saw Kate.

She looked like she'd lost ten years since that morning. She was dressed in a white blouse and blue slacks, her hair done up with a pin. She'd put on make-up and other than the slight worry in her eyes, looked a hundred percent better. Nadine hugged her and said, "You should be in bed."

"Yeah, right," Kate scoffed. "Matilda called me and told me you'd been hurt."

"Who's Matilda?" Hoagie asked.

"Inside joke," Kate smiled. She kissed Nadine's eyebrow and said, "I'm glad you're okay. Do you need a ride or...?"

"Um..."

Miranda said, "I'll give her a ride home... i-if she wants."

"Yeah," Nadine nodded.

Kate's smile widened and she hugged Nadine again. She whispered into her ear, "Took my advice, huh?"

"Shh," Nadine admonished. She kissed Kate's cheek and said, "I'm glad you're doing better. Stay awhile. I want to talk with you some more before I go." Kate nodded and turned to Hoagie and Billy. She embraced them both and poked Hoagie in the chest. "Shouldn't you be on the air, Joseph?"

Hoagie shook his head. "I got Simon to come in and cover for me."

Miranda and Nadine both said, "You talked to Simon?"

"Yeah..." Hoagie said slowly. He looked between them and said, "I talk to him all the time. The hard part is getting that guy to shut up. Why? What's wrong?"

Nadine laughed and touched her throbbing head. "Nothing, Hoagie. Nothing at all." She tightened her grip around Miranda's arm and leaned into her. "Let's go home. I've had a really, really long day."

Hoagie finally looked down at their linked arms and raised an eyebrow. "Whoa... wait a minute. You? And you? Are the two of you...?"

"Yes, Hoagie," Miranda said. "I'm gay, too."

He glared at Billy, as if it were his fault, and said, "See? I knew I shouldn't have supported this. All the eligible women, gone! Right from under my nose, in one fell swoop!"

Nadine wrapped her free arm around Hoagie's waist and said, "Aw, you big lug. We can double-date sometime. I'm sure at least a couple of the women on the island are bisexual."

"Gotta be one or two," Miranda agreed.

"Oh, hardy-har-har. We've created a couple of lesbian vaudeville comics..."

---

Hoagie gave them a ride back to the station so Miranda could pick up her car. Nadine put her bike in the lobby where it would be locked up and safe until she was able to come back and retrieve it, then curled up in Miranda's passenger seat. "Do you want to just go home?" Miranda asked. "You haven't eaten anything all day..."

"I'm not hungry. Just... yeah, home. I'll be fine on the couch."

Miranda frowned. "What?"

"I don't have a bed."

"Then I'm not taking you home."

"Miranda, it's fine..."

"No, it's not. You have a head injury." She pulled out of the parking garage and said, "I'm taking you to my place. You can take the bed, *I'll* take the couch."

"Are you sure?" Nadine murmured.

Miranda reached across the console and touched Nadine's forehead. "You're burning up. Your head must be throbbing like hell. You're going to sleep in an actual bed and that's final." She turned back to the road and said, "So it's final. No arguments?" She glanced over and saw that Nadine's eyes were closed and she was using her hand as a pillow against the window.

Miranda smiled and headed for home.

---

She walked Nadine into the house and directed her to the bedroom. The sun had gone down, leaving the sky beyond the window a deep crimson-yellow melt. Nadine, in her haze of pain and tiredness, Nadine only got the vaguest idea of what the room looked like. She did see a large queen-sized bed flanked by antique wooden nightstands, but all she cared about was the mattress underneath her when Miranda sat her down.

She watched with disembodied interest as her shoes were untied and slipped off. "Socks on or off?" Miranda asked.

"Off," Nadine said. It hardly mattered, but as long as Miranda was offering to keep touching her...

Her feet bare, Miranda glanced up at Nadine's blouse and cleared her throat. "Um... y-you could probably take care of..." She gestured at the rest of her clothes.

"Yeah," Nadine said. "Probably."

They stared at each other for a moment. Miranda was the one who lost the staring contest, by looking towards the dresser in the corner. "There are some pajamas in there. Probably... too big for you." Nadine was four inches shorter than Miranda and would most likely be swimming in her clothes.

"Okay. Thank you, Miranda. For everything."

Miranda smiled and kissed Nadine's lips. "No problem," she whispered. "I'll be in the living room if you need anything. Anything at all."

She stood and walked from the room, leaving the door opened a crack, and headed for the living room to catch up on her work.

---

Nadine ran her hand over the pillow and briefly wondered where she was. She touched the sheets, rolled onto her back and looked at the dark window over the dresser. After a moment, she remembered why she had a headache - much milder now - and where she was. The condo was dark, cool and quiet and she wondered for a moment if Miranda might have left.

She stood and tugged the hem of her pajama shirt down to cover herself. Miranda's clothes had proven baggy on her, but they were workable. She had chosen just a shirt, since it was long enough to reach her mid-thigh, and stumbled to the bathroom.

---

In the living room, Miranda was on the edge of the couch finishing up the latest in a series of phone calls. She heard the toilet flush and tensed, unused to hearing that sound in her house, and smiled. Nadine was awake. She turned her attention back to the caller. "No, it's all right. No, it's nothing. Thank you for calling me and I'm sorry for getting back to you so late. Yes, everything seems to be fine. Okay. Okay, you too. Bye."

"Am I interrupting?"

"No," Miranda said. "I was just..." She turned around on the couch and the words died in her throat. Nadine was standing in the hallway door, wearing only a white pajama top. The bottom buttons were undone and Miranda spent a moment trying to determine if that was a shadow or... something else... before she turned away and began blushing bright red.

"Should I not have worn this?" Nadine asked. She had tucked the cuffs of her sleeves into her palm. She looked puny in the giant shirt, her hair mussed from sleep, and Miranda just wanted to grab her and hold her and make sure she knew everything was all right.

She bit her lip and finally said, "No. That's, uh... a good choice. Come over here and sit down for a minute."

Nadine walked over and sat on the couch next to Miranda. She rubbed her temple and looked at the sprawl of papers that lay around the quietly-humming laptop. "What is all this?"

"Work. Does your head still hurt? I have some aspirin..."

"It's fine," Nadine said. "I'll live with it a while before I knock it out with aspirin. What are you doing?"

Miranda turned to her laptop. "Well, it seems that during your broadcast today, I missed a bit of work. And before you apologize, I'd much rather spend the day in your booth with you. It was... it was the time of my life."

Nadine smiled sleepily and rested her chin on one fist. When she crossed her legs, Miranda was distracted by a flash of thigh and cleared her throat. "Anyway, I was catching up on some of my voicemail. When Clifton Gail called in, he neglected to mention that he was friends with Joe Lack. They had a talk and... Joe Lack's Pizza is again offering to promote your show."

"Lucky me," Nadine said. "What does he have to lose; it doesn't cost anything to promote a non-existent show."

Miranda pressed on. "I also received calls from Chin's and Duck Soup. They're both considering advertising on your show again."

"Miranda, I love you for doing all of this, but... I don't have a show anymore."

"You don't understand," Miranda said. "After you got hit with a rock, it was like... you might as well have gotten shot."

"Gee, thanks," Nadine said.

"Deputy White cited a handful of people, but far less than there actually were in that crowd. He only had five or six on record when I called him earlier. Everyone else they've spoken to claim they were at work or home all day. He thinks they're afraid of being grouped in with rock-throwing homophobes."

Nadine smiled. "The homophobe part, they don't mind so much. The rock-throwing part, though..."

"Scoff if you will, but Chin's and Duck Soup called *me* asking about advertising again. Your show has proven you have support in this town. They're afraid of losing business by turning their backs to you. Your show today has done more good than we could have hoped."

Nadine rubbed her temple. "I know it's just the headache talking, but... I don't *have* a show, Miranda."

"No, not tonight," Miranda said. "But tomorrow? Who knows?"

"Dugan won't back down. Hoagie told me that Dugan wanted me arrested for that stunt I pulled today. You've got a silver tongue, Miranda Powell, but I don't foresee you talking him out of that."

"We'll see," Miranda said. "Right now, we've got seventy-five percent of your sponsors back. Tomorrow I'll start calling the others. Now that I know what buttons to push, I'll see if we can get every damn one of them crawling back with their tails between their legs. Then we'll see about getting your show back."

"Kind of putting the cart before the horse, aren't you?"

"Dugan won't give us the horse until we prove we have something for it to pull."

Nadine grinned and leaned toward Miranda. They kissed, slowly and tenderly, seated next to each other on the couch like a married couple. Nadine shifted and faced Miranda fully, deepening their kiss. Miranda opened her eyes and looked down at the shadow between Nadine's thighs.

She pulled back and closed her eyes. "Um... y-you still want to do the waiting thing. Right...?"

"I do," Nadine whispered. She sounded more than a little sad that she was the one making them wait. She kissed Miranda's cheek. And repeated more firmly, "I do."

"Then... and don't take this the wrong way... but maybe you could put on some damn pants..."

Nadine laughed and moved her hands to her lap. "You pervert."

"Exhibitionist."

"Voyeur."

"Put your pants on."

Nadine got off the couch and went into the bedroom to get dress. Miranda watched her go, admiring the way the pajama top bunched around Nadine's ass, and picked up a folder. She sagged against the back of the couch and fanned herself. She didn't mind waiting, not for someone like Nadine. But if she wasn't careful, the waiting was liable to kill her.

---

They made dinner, Nadine back in her jeans, in Miranda's fully-stocked kitchen. She made chicken Caesar salad from ingredients in her fridge and smiled sheepishly at Nadine's awe. "It's just food."

"You're talking to a woman who eats leftovers three days out of the week. Believe me, this is gourmet."

They divvied up the tasks, with Nadine taking care of browning the chicken while Miranda prepared the eggs and the bowls of lettuce. When the chicken was done, they added it to the salad and carried their bowls to the kitchen table.

Through the living room window, the stone wall of the neighborhood only partially blocked the impressive view of the island's majestic peak. The island wasn't mountainous by any stretch of the imagination, but the slope did stand out impressively against the full moon.

They ate quietly, occasionally laughing about something that had happened during Nadine's last show, but soon fell into comfortable silence again.

When half their salads had disappeared, Miranda twirled her fork and said, "So do you think this would count as a date?"

Nadine examined the table carefully and chewed her mouthful before she answered. "Yes. But only because we prepared it together. Automatic date right there."

Miranda smiled and put her fork down. "I love the way you look at things. It's... it's gotta be why you're so popular. You're just..." She rubbed her forehead and looked down at her salad. "I-I-I don't know," she said, suddenly flustered. "You really make me feel good when I listen to you, Dean."

"I love when you call me Dean."

Miranda blushed and they both went back to their salads. Miranda, chewing her bottom lip, said, "And you are absolutely sure that you want to wait for the sex part of the relationship?"

"Absolutely sure," Nadine said, a bit of sadness in her voice.

"Okay. Just making sure."

"Of course, making out on the couch after dinner doesn't constitute sex in my book."

Miranda's eyes widened. "Me neither."

Their forks made quite a racket as they rushed to finish their meal.

---

They touched each other when the lights were out. Nadine's lips were traced by soft fingers and Nadine explored the sweet spot behind Miranda's ear. With all the lights out, the mellow blue moonlight offering the only guide, they took stock of everything they'd never noticed or had ignored about the other woman. The way Miranda's fingers were slightly bowed, the little mole on Nadine's cheek that Miranda had noticed but never really thought about.

Clothes were loosened, but not removed. Nadine was the one to finally call it quits, gently easing Miranda back and kissed her soundly. "I should..."

"Yes, quickly," Miranda gasped.

They kissed again and Nadine said, "I think I'm going to fall in love with you soon."

"It's about time you caught up."

Nadine smiled in the darkness and said, "I'm going to bed."

"Go, before I run after you panting like a dog."

Nadine slid off the couch and walked to the hallway. "You don't need pajamas or...?"

"I'm fine," Miranda said. "Good night, Nadine."

"Good night, Miranda."

Nadine paused in the bedroom door and looked into the living room. She half-expected to see Miranda's silhouette coming down the hall after her, but nothing stirred at that end of the house. She fought the urge to tell Miranda to come to bed with her, ached for her to join her, but she knew it was for the best. She reluctantly closed the door and went to bed.

---

She woke the next morning to the smells of bacon and coffee, two of her most favorite things. She opened her eyes and rose, pushing aside her blankets and struggling with her jeans before she left the bedroom. She stumbled to the kitchen and blinked at the meal laid out. Fluffy, yellow scrambled eggs, strips of bacon that gleamed in the sunlight, a tall pitcher of orange juice that was rendered much less impressive by the Minute Maid carton sticking out of the trash.

Miranda finally saw her standing in the doorway and smiled. "Hi, Dean. Did you sleep well?"

"Like a rock," she said with a wry smile. Her forehead was still throbbing a little, but she was glad she hadn't taken any medication the night before; every memory was firmly imprinted in her mind. She walked up behind Nadine and embraced her from behind. She lifted herself onto her tiptoes and kissed the back of Miranda's neck. "You said you loved me."

"Did I?"

"It was a roundabout way of saying it."

"Oh."

"I talk for a living, remember."

Miranda said, "You *used* to talk for a living. You're the one who keeps saying you don't have a show anymore."

"That's Thomas Dugan, actually."

"Right," Miranda said. She slipped from Nadine's arms and said, "Hope you like scrambled eggs."

Nadine said, "I adore them, and this all smells delicious. But... d-do I have time to shower first?"

"Yeah, go, go," Miranda said. "I'll save you some bacon. The towels are in the cabinet by the bathroom door."

Nadine thanked her and hurried off.

"Save me some hot water!"

---

Kate wore dark sunglasses and a hat with a brim long enough to hide her face when she left the house. It wasn't shame that made her hide her face; she finally knew what Nadine was talking about when she said she felt free. Vanity was why she had wrapped herself up like the invisible woman. She hated how pale she looked after her time in the hospital. She hated the way she was sure people looked at her with the words "suicide attempt" on their lips when they saw her.

She had been given a few days off to 'recover from her bout with the flu.' She couldn't just sit in the apartment, especially not on the couch she now planned to sell or burn, so she went out and simply wandered for a while. Fortunately, the cold weather made her disguise necessary. After a while, she ducked into Coffee Table Books to escape the wind and get something to eat.

She ordered one of the big plate-sized cookies and a coffee from the chirpy girl behind the counter and took a seat in a booth by the window. There were a handful of customers in the shop, but it was the slow time between ferries. She unraveled her scarf and turned away from the restaurant to watch people walking by on the other side of the frosted glass.

Something tapped her coffee cup and she jumped, unaware anyone was next to the table. "Ooh, sorry," Amy said. "Didn't mean to startle you there." She held up the coffee cup. "Top you off?"

Kate relaxed and nodded, even though she'd barely taken a sip of her coffee. "Hi, Amy."

"Hi, stranger." Amy poured about a drop into the cup and set the coffee down on the table. "How are you doing?"

"Better, I suppose. I'm not thinking about it anymore. I'm still going to see a counselor, though. Once or twice a month, maybe..."

Amy frowned. "Thinking... about what?"

Kate's hand twitched next to the coffee cup. "You said 'how are you doing'? That's what everyone has been saying to me lately."

"What are you talking about?"

"I tried to..." Kate's voice trailed off and she cleared her throat. "I overdosed on pills on Monday. They got me to the hospital, but..."

From the look on Amy's face, Kate could tell she was the one person she knew who had missed the news. "Oh, my God! Are you all right?"

"Fine," Kate nodded. "Like I said. But... I don't feel like that anymore. It was... ironically, I think it was the wake-up call I needed." She smiled and added. "I'm really sorry. I just assumed everyone had heard or... could tell by looking at me."

"Well, I spend a lot of my time in the kitchen. Not a lot of gossip. As for how you look... you look gorgeous to me."

Kate looked up and saw a light in Amy's eyes. She looked down into her coffee and leaned forward. "Would you like to get dinner sometime?"

---

Nadine hated wearing the same clothes two days in a row, especially after a shower, but she dressed and returned to the kitchen. "Your shower is heaven on earth," she said as she ran her fingers through her still-wet hair. Miranda turned and the smile on her face faded as her eyes locked on Nadine's shirt. Nadine looked down and said, "What is it? What..." Then she spotted it. A small splatter of blood on the collar. "Oh," she said.

"I don't suppose I could get you to take your shirt off," Miranda said, smiling weakly.

Nadine started to unbutton her blouse.

"I was joking, Nadine, you don't..."

"It's okay," Nadine said. "Can I wear your pajama shirt until I can get a change?"

"Yes," Miranda said. She breathed a sigh of relief as Nadine retreated back into the bedroom to finish undressing. Seeing the blood on her shirt had just brought back all the hellish memories of the day before. She had been so sure that some asshole had shot her... She shuddered at the memory and refused to acknowledge it. Everything had worked out fine, no need to stress herself with might-have-beens.

She scooped some more eggs onto a clean plate, added some bacon and was pouring a glass of orange juice when Nadine returned. Miranda looked her over and smiled. "Much better." They embraced and Miranda kissed Nadine's temple. "Head okay?"

"Head okay." They separated and Nadine picked up her plate. "Wow. If the 'manager of a local radio station' gig falls through, you can get a job over at Yolk Folks."

"If it means I don't have to deal with Thomas Dugan anymore, I'll go get an application today."

They sat down together and ate in the sunny niche off the kitchen. Nadine squinted into the sun and admired Miranda's view. "Wow. I wondered what was so special about this place. I mean, it's not that big. But the *view*..."

"And the security," Miranda said.

Nadine nodded and examined her plate. "Can I get something out of the fridge?"

Miranda nodded and watched as Nadine retreated into the kitchen. When she came back, she had a squeeze-bottle of ketchup and she added a small pool next to her scrambled eggs.

Miranda made a face and said, "Oh, that's it. The relationship is off."

Nadine stuck her tongue out and defiantly took a bite. "So," she said, swallowing her mouthful before she continued. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Today, we blackmail Tom Dugan to get you your job back."

A glob of yellow egg tinted with red ketchup froze halfway to Nadine's mouth.

---

Nadine and Miranda walked into the KELF offices together. The front doors, damaged by the crowd the day before, were already in the midst of being repaired. There were no protesters today; as Miranda had said, no one wanted to be associated with the mob from the day before. Suddenly, everyone on the island was incredibly supportive of Nadine.

Everyone, of course, except for Thomas Dugan.

They had stopped off at Nadine's apartment so she could change into something sensible and business-appropriate. She'd finally decided on a powder-blue pantsuit. She wore an old pair of glasses that were slightly too big for her face but weren't held together with masking tape.

Nadine followed Miranda into the building and smiled to Sue as she passed. "Good to see you, Miss Powell. *Lovely* to see you, Miss Butler!"

When they were on the stairs, Miranda turned and whispered, "I just get 'good.' You get 'lovely'?"

"I'm nicer than you are."

Miranda rolled her eyes and continued up into the main offices. Thomas Dugan was already there, seated at the conference table. As Miranda made her way over, he frowned and pointed at Nadine. "What, pray tell, is *she* doing here? She is *persona non grata*."

"Nice one," Hoagie said as he approached from the bathrooms. "You got word of the day toilet paper or something?"

"Hoagie," Nadine said. She went to him and embraced him tightly. "What are you doing here so early?"

"Bargaining chip," he said. He winked at her, refusing to elaborate, and took a seat to Dugan's right. Miranda and Nadine sat next to each other and Dugan leaned forward. Clasping his hands in front of him, he looked at the assembled group. When he opened his mouth to speak, Hoagie said, "Ah-ah. We're not all here yet. Billy! Get over here."

Dugan chuckled. "You're kidding me. The *janitor* is going to sit in on our business meeting?"

"It involves him," Miranda said. When they were all in place, Miranda stood. "Mr. Dugan, we're here today to respectfully ask you to reinstate Nadine Butler at her full salary."

"No," he said. He started to stand up. "Is... that all? Are we done here?"

Miranda didn't waver. "Sit down, Mr. Dugan, please."

Dugan sighed and reluctantly returned to his seat.

"Your reason for firing Nadine was sound," Miranda said. "In a business such as this, you cannot justify employing someone who is costing your station money. Nadine had no sponsors; you couldn't very well keep her around. But as of last night, Gail's Seafood Shack, Joe Lack's Pizza, Chin's Chinese Buffet, Duck Soup Restaurant and Yolk Folks have all pledged to sponsor her show again. By the end of business today, I assure you that she will be fully-backed by her original sponsors and by the people and businesses of this town."

"She took over my radio station," Dugan said, his tone of voice indicating he knew exactly what kind of corner he was being backed into. "She turned it into her own personal soap box. You expect me to just ignore that?"

"No, sir. Last week, I put in a request that she be given a raise. I hereby withdraw that request. If Nadine is hired back, her salary will remain the same as it was before. Consider it a penalty for unauthorized content on her show."

The man twisted his chair back and forth, glaring at Nadine. "I could still fire her for that 'unauthorized content.'"

Hoagie muttered under his breath and leaned back.

"You could, Mr. Dugan. But then you'd have to find two replacements. If Nadine doesn't come back, I'll clean out my desk and leave with her."

Nadine's eyes widened. No wonder Miranda had kept the plan to herself; she never would have gone alone with this. "Miranda..."

"Nadine," Miranda said. She gave her a look that said she knew what she was doing. Nadine didn't like it, but she didn't really have a choice. She glanced at Hoagie, who was also nodded, and quieted. Might as well see how this played out. And what did Billy have to do with getting her job back?

Dugan seemed unphased. "I'll be sorry to see you go, Ms. Powell, but the sad truth is station managers are a dime a dozen. I'll find another one before too long." His lips curled in a superior, arrogant smirk as he tried to stare her down.

"But talent isn't."

Everyone turned to look at Hoagie.

Hoagie was admiring his fingernails. "With Nadine gone, I'm the biggest celebrity this station has. And if she goes, I go."

"That leaves you with a void from eleven in the morning until Leah comes on at nine," Miranda informed him. "A void that is usually filled by two very popular disc-jockeys. People might miss them enough to try out a different radio station."

"I hear KTOT comes in real clear, even from the mainland," Billy said.

"I hear that, too," Hoagie said. "I was thinking about listening to them sometime. I guess if I get fired, I'll have the opportunity."

Dugan scoffed and shook his head. "Oh, come on. You think staging a walk-out will..."

"We are not done, Mr. Dugan," Miranda said. All pretense of formality had left her voice. She leaned down and looked Dugan in the eye. "If I leave, if Hoagie leaves... you could replace us eventually. It would take a while, you'd probably lose money during the search, but you could do it. But if we go? Billy goes."

Everyone looked at the janitor. He smiled and winked at Nadine. "Miss Butler brought me here. Got me the job. It'd make me too sad to work here knowing she was fired."

Miranda smiled. "A station manager and two disc-jockeys. Easy enough to replace. Hell, forget what I said, you could probably have our spots filled by this afternoon. But where in the hell would you *ever* find another janitor to clean this building for half the minimum wage?"

Dugan's face went pale and he shifted in his chair. Miranda picked up the files she'd put in front of her chair and pushed away from the table. "Think about it. I know you have the weekend DJ filling in for Nadine today. But you better think long and hard about how permanent you want that arrangement to be."

Miranda straightened her back and said, "*Now* we're done." She motioned for Nadine to stand up and they walked towards the stairs. They hadn't gotten halfway across the bullpen before Dugan hollered, "All right! All right, *wait a damn minute.* Come back here."

Nadine looked at Miranda, completely shocked. Miranda smiled at her and turned on her heel to go back to the negotiating table.

13 -

It took another hour's worth of discussion before Dugan was able to think it was his idea. He finally 'decided' her punishment should be a week off without pay for her little stunt. Nadine accepted the punishment gracefully and asked for one small addition to the terms. Dugan reluctantly accepted her request.

---

By 11:15, Kate and Amy had been sitting together in Coffee Table Books for nearly three hours. KELF playing, as usual, through the ceiling-mounted speakers. Neither of them noticed when the music ended and the DJ began speaking.

"Good almost afternoon, everybody. My name is Ben Jones and I will be filling in for Nadine Butler in this slot for the time being. The temperature is a nice and comfortable sixty-four right now, but I know you don't want to hear about the weather. We have a special guest in the booth right now, so I'm going to turn the mic over so she can tell you a bit of really good news. Nadine?"

Amy stopped speaking mid-sentence and looked up at the speaker. Kate turned as well and said, "Did he just say...?"

Nadine's voice came through loud and clear. "Hello, boys and girls and miscellaneous. You're not hearing things, you're not listening to a recording. I am Nadine Butler, the Pixie, and I am live on the air once more."

Kate and Amy both thought they were the only ones listening until the entire store exploded in applause.

---

"It turns out the squeaky wheel *does* occasionally get the grease. And the supporters I mentioned yesterday rose my squeak to a roar. So, I am happy to report that following a week's suspension for my 'unauthorized broadcast content,' I am returning to the airwaves bright and early next Monday afternoon. So be good to each other between now and then and be good to Ben. He's just a weekend DJ; he's doing the best he can."

There was a scuffle and then Nadine added, "Ow! Okay, he just hit me. Roast the fool."

"Get out my booth!"

"*My* booth!"

"Not this week, it isn't!"

"I'll be back!"

"That was Nadine, the Persistent Pixie there and, as she said, I am only going to be here until Monday. So I might as well make the best of it. I'm going to have a contest for dinner for two at Duck Soup Restaurant if you can give me the correct answer to this question..."

---

That night, Miranda invited Nadine out to Gail's Seafood Restaurant for a victory dinner. They arrived not long after the last ferry of the evening and eased their way through a small crowd of tourists who were staying overnight that were swarming the boardwalk. Nadine tightened her hand around Miranda's and didn't release until they were inside. "What's wrong?" Miranda asked softly.

"Crowds. I'm uncomfortable when there are large groups of people lurking about."

Miranda kissed Nadine's forehead, just over the square of gauze between her eyes. "Do you want to go home and eat in?"

"No. I want to sit at a table and have dinner with my girlfriend."

Miranda smiled and took Nadine's hand. They walked up to the hostess stand and waited. The restaurant was partially lit with a handful of glass lights along the back wall, but most of the light came from the old-fashioned lanterns in the center of each occupied table. The wood-paneled walls and low ceiling gave the room an undeniably romantic air. A young woman wearing a black tuxedo stepped up to the podium and smiled. "Good evening, welcome to Gail's. Do you have a reservation?"

"Powell, for two."

The girl checked and smiled. "Right this way." She pulled two menus from the slot next to the podium and turned on her heel. Miranda and Nadine followed the bobbing red ponytail across the restaurant. Nadine fought the urge to pull her hand from Miranda's, struggled to remain at her side and not two paces apart. They could walk hand-in-hand, they could be on a date. It didn't have to be a secret anymore.

The hostess guided them to a small two-person table next to the window. It overlooked the boardwalk and, more importantly, the dock where dozens of sailboats waited stoically for the morning. The moon was high and reflecting off the water as they took their seats. The hostess lit the lantern on their table, handed them each a menu and said, "Your waitress will be with you shortly."

"Thank you," Miranda said. She was seated with her back to the wall and could see most of the restaurant. A few patrons had turned when they passed and a few more were taking occasional peeks over their shoulders at their table.

"How many people are staring?"

"None," Miranda said. "It's mostly just quick glances."

Nadine smirked and looked down at her menu again. The waitress approached and introduced herself, took their drink orders and promised to return when they'd had a chance to look over their menus.

Someone across the room pushed their chair back and stood. Miranda's hand tensed around her menu. When the man's path was certain to take him by their table, Miranda breathed, "Dean, someone's coming."

Nadine moved slightly to her right and made sure she could see the man out of her periphery. He stopped next to the table and smiled sheepishly. "Um. Hi. I hate to interrupt your evening, but you're Nadine Butler, aren't you?"

"I am."

"I'm a really big fan. I just wanted to let you know I was ready to throw my radio out the window when I heard what had happened. Really good to know you'll be back. Well... anyway, I wanted to... say that. Again, sorry for interrupting."

"Thank you. What's your name?"

"Steve."

"It's really nice to meet you, Steve. Thanks for listening."

He nodded, smiled to Miranda and headed back to his own seat. Nadine smiled sheepishly and said, "I still have fans."

"You always had fans," Miranda assured her. She reached across the table and took Nadine's hand.

---

Later that week, on Friday, Miranda left work early and went directly to the ferry lanes. She met Nadine, who had parked her car on the front row, and drove onto the five o'clock ferry.

Their tickets to the theater were for forty-five minutes after docking, so Miranda drove like a woman possessed to get there on time. After the show, they ate a leisurely dinner at a small family restaurant and went sightseeing in downtown Seattle. They finally called it a night when Miranda was spending more time covering her yawns than pointing out sights.

When they checked into the hotel, Nadine hesitated when the clerk asked if they wanted one room or two. Nadine looked willing to make it The Night, but Miranda answered, "We'll need two rooms."

When they were in the elevator, Miranda explained, "You weren't sure." She touched Nadine's cheek and said, "You should be absolutely positive before we spend the night together."

Nadine smiled and kissed her before the elevator doors slid apart.

---

A few days later, Nadine was back at work and Miranda was back behind her desk. They were forced to reduce their dates to the occasional take-out and making out on Nadine's couch. They always ended it before it got too far, but Nadine admitted it was becoming harder and harder to break apart at the end of the night.

Two Fridays after their trip to the mainland, Nadine invited Miranda to her apartment for a 'home-cooked' meal. The day before she ordered their meal, making sure it arrived in time for her to transfer everything from containers to bowls and plates. Nadine went straight home from work, met the delivery man from Harbor Lights Restaurant and proceeded with her ruse.

When the food was laid out and the air of the apartment was resplendent with the smell of fresh sea bass and rice, she went to the bathroom to shower and change clothes. She was fine until the actual knock came on the door, which set her heart to double-time. She smoothed her dress, made sure the table was set and went to the front door. She turned the knob and stepped aside. "H-- wow."

Miranda smiled. She was wearing a gorgeous black dress, her hair obviously shaped by the hand of a gifted stylist. The dress formed a teardrop shape, flowing from the neck and then spreading out over her body like ink. Her shoulders were bare and, when she did a mock runway turn, Nadine saw that her back was completely bare as well. The dress was tied behind her neck.

Nadine cleared her throat and finally found her voice. "Wow. So this is what 'speechless' feels like."

Miranda's smile widened and she looked down at herself. "You like?"

"Yeah," Nadine breathed. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I... should change."

Miranda shook her head. "Are you crazy? That's the dress."

Nadine blushed; she had been sure Miranda wouldn't remember the story, but she was wearing the dress she had worn to work one hot summer day. Only tonight, her chest and shoulders weren't hidden by a t-shirt. "Is it like you pictured?"

"Better," Miranda said.

Nadine stepped aside and said, "Come in." Miranda stepped into the apartment and pecked Nadine's lips. "Something smells delicious." She sniffed and said, "Oh, and there's seafood."

Nadine laughed and closed the door. She took Miranda's hand and said, "We'll eat in a minute, but there's something I want to show you first."

"Okay."

She led Miranda across the living room to the hallway that led to the back three rooms of the apartment. Once they were in the hallway, Nadine hesitated. She turned to face Miranda and said, "I'm just... showing you this. I'm not trying to pressure you or imply that anything is going to happen."

"Okay," Miranda repeated, curiosity now overwhelming her hunger.

Nadine opened the bedroom door and stepped back. "Tada." The mass of boxes and old clothes had vanished, replaced by a brand-new queen-sized bed. The royal blue comforter was pulled back at one corner to reveal pristine white sheets, the pillows sitting against the headboard like plump marshmallows.

Nadine worried her bottom lip with her teeth and looked at Miranda. "I bought a bed," she said.

"I can see that," Miranda said softly. Her eyes were bright, her lips curled in an amused smile. "Why did you...?"

"I've been thinking about... you know... The Night. And I hated knowing that every night you were here wouldn't be... The Night because I didn't want to consummate our relationship on the couch. So, I... bought a bed."

"I love it," Miranda said. She turned Nadine and bent down to softly kiss her lips.

Nadine let herself be pressed against the doorframe and slid her hands up Miranda's arms. When she had her fingers linked behind Miranda's head, she broke the kiss and said, "Of course, when I said I wasn't trying to pressure you, I didn't mean tonight *couldn't* be The Night, just that I... you know, wasn't... I-I wasn't..."

"I think it is The Night," Miranda interrupted as she claimed Nadine's lips again.

"Really?" Nadine said against Miranda's mouth.

"Mm."

They moved into the bedroom and Nadine gasped, "Good. I was about to tackle you in the foyer."

They moved into the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. Miranda stroked Nadine's cheeks and pulled back, resting her hands on Nadine's shoulders. Nadine's skin was pale pink, her nostrils flaring with each exhalation. Her hands shook where they rested on Miranda's hips. Miranda kissed Nadine's cheek and said, "Have you slept in this bed yet?"

"No," Nadine said.

"Then we're going to christen it?" Miranda asked. She stood up and moved in front of Nadine, lifting her skirt past her knees so she could straddle Nadine's legs. Nadine's eyes trailed down from the smooth material of Miranda's dress to the length of stocking she had just exposed and felt her mouth go dry. "And it won't ruin the dinner you slaved over?"

"We both know it's take-out," Nadine said. She brought her hand up and used the edge of her index finger to lift Miranda's skirt a little higher.

Miranda bent down and kissed Nadine's temple, slid her lips down to her ear and licked the curve. Nadine shivered and Miranda whispered, "Lie down."

Nadine let herself be guided down to the mattress, which was at least ten times as soft as it had been in the showroom. She realized she was holding her breath and exhaled as Miranda put a knee on the mattress. The bed sank slightly under her weight and she crawled up to Nadine's hips. She leaned down and stroked Nadine's hair. "You are so lovely," Miranda whispered.

Nadine moved her hands down Miranda's bare back and put her hands beneath the soft material. She cupped Miranda's ass and pulled her closer. They kissed again and Miranda sank down onto Nadine, pinning her to the mattress. To Nadine, it felt like being wrapped in a sheet of cotton; Miranda's gentle weight on top of her, the blanket and mattress below.

As they kissed, Miranda had moved her hands down Nadine's body and pulled her dress higher with every pass. "I thought this would never happen," Miranda whispered. "I never thought you could want me."

Nadine kissed the curve of Miranda's neck and whispered, "I want you, Miranda. I want you so much."

Miranda shivered and moved to one side so her left leg would be between Nadine's. When she sat up, her thigh pressed against the wet cotton of Nadine's panties and she began to thrust with her entire lower body. Her thigh pressed against Nadine with each upward thrust and soon she was writhing erratically on the bed.

When Miranda reached behind her neck to undo her dress, Nadine gasped, "D-d-don't... I'll come..."

Miranda undid the tie and folded the front of her dress down. "Then come," she said as her bare breasts came into view. Nadine whimpered and reached up, cupping one perfect breast. She saw freckles that ran the length of Miranda's cleavage, the small, ancient scar marking one collarbone, the brown nipples and the pale skin. Her thighs tightened around Miranda's leg and she arched her back. Her entire body went rigid and her hand tightened around Miranda's breast as she came.

After Nadine's orgasm, Miranda bent down and kissed her lips. They groped each other slowly for a few moments and then Miranda rolled to one side. She got off the bed and shed the rest of her clothes in the blink of an eye. She rolled her stockings and panties down her legs and climbed back onto the bed naked. Nadine ran her hands over Miranda, finding nothing but bare skin dappled with sweat. They kissed and Miranda breathed, "I want you, too, Nadine."

Nadine rolled onto her side and faced Miranda. She rested her fingertips on Miranda's temple and slowly trailed down, over her cheek and across her neck. She felt the pulse pound beneath her index finger and kept going, circling both nipples until they stood proud and erect against the alabaster skin. She used all four fingernails to scrape over Miranda's belly, drawing an impatient hiss from the other woman, and then cupped her mound with one warm hand.

Miranda gasped and spread her legs. Nadine looked down at the short, stiff hair that was rubbing against her palm and used two fingers to spread the wet lips hiding below. Miranda's eyes were closed, every ounce of concentration focusing on what those two fingers were doing to her.

Nadine put her lips to Miranda's mouth and was rewarded with a hungry kiss. As their tongues grappled for dominance, Nadine slipped one finger inside Miranda's pussy. She bent her trembling fingers and began to thrust. Miranda tilted her head back and exhaled long and slow. "Nadine..." She moved her hands to Nadine's shoulders and closed her thighs on Nadine's hand. "Nadine, touch me..."

Nadine looked down and saw Miranda's legs, her wetness on her fingers and on Miranda's thighs. She shuddered and gasped, "Oh, Miranda."

Miranda brushed her cheek against Nadine's and wondered whose tears she felt. Not that it mattered; she was surprised to find that she was comfortable with the idea of crying in front of Miranda. She started slow and steady, adjusting the pace according to the cues she picked up from her lover. They found each other's lips once more and Miranda growled as she came. She nipped at Nadine's bottom lip, bowing her head as she came.

When they were both still, Nadine withdrew her hand and held it up. She examined the wet fingertips and, locking eyes with Miranda, touched her tongue to her index finger. Miranda groaned and watched Nadine's tongue dance around until she'd had her fill. They kissed again and Miranda tasted herself on Nadine's tongue. She reached down and grabbed the hem of Nadine's dress.

They broke the kiss just long enough to get the dress over her head. Nadine pushed her own panties down her legs with one hand. Miranda looked down at Nadine's sweaty stomach, at the moisture gathering on her thighs, and scooted closer. Insinuating her thigh between Nadine's legs once again, she resumed the kiss and rocked forward ever-so-slightly.

Nadine groaned and used her own leg against Miranda. She moved her hands down, gripped Miranda's ass with both hands, and rode her. The kiss broke and Nadine's grunts became louder. Miranda threw her head back and Nadine assaulted her throat. "Yes, Dean, yes, Dean," Miranda was panting.

Miranda came first and redoubled her attack on Nadine. She pushed her onto her back and rose above her like a predator, using her whole body as a weapon. They locked eyes, Nadine's wide behind her glasses as her mouth widened in shock and pleasure. "I'm coming," she whispered. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she arched her back, pressing herself tightly against Miranda's thigh. "Oh, fuck, Miranda..."

They sank to the mattress together, sweat clinging to their bodies and holding them together. Miranda covered Nadine's cheek and throat with small kisses, brushing her hair out of her face and giving her another series of lingering kisses. When they had caught their breath, Miranda rolled to the side and lay with her arms around Nadine.

"Wow," Nadine breathed.

"Wow," Miranda agreed. She looked up and saw tears on Nadine's cheeks. She hooked her finger under Nadine's chin and turned her head, raising up to kiss the tears away. Nadine shivered and Miranda said, "Was it okay?"

"So okay," Nadine whispered. She kissed Miranda's lips and said, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Nadine nuzzled Miranda's cheek and said, "Are you hungry?"

"I could eat."

Nadine sniffled and smiled. "Our food is probably cold by now."

"S'okay," Miranda said. She rose and slid lower on the mattress. She kissed Nadine's nipple and looked up, eyes twinkling. "I wasn't thinking of eating food."

Nadine's eyes widened.

---

Later that night, Nadine returned from the bathroom and paused at the doorway. Miranda was curled on her side, her body curled around a void about the size of Nadine's body. Her hand was curled against her chest, the fingers that had given her such pleasure limp and motionless in dreams. Nadine stood for a moment, just watching her sleep. It was a simple thing, but she'd never felt the need to just watch Kate sleep. She'd never just stared at one of her lovers like this.

As she was about to walk to bed, Miranda's arm stretched out and found empty mattress. Miranda didn't wake, but she shifted and whispered, "Dean."

"I'm here," Nadine whispered as she slid under the covers. Miranda's arm found her and pulled her close. Nadine closed her eyes as Miranda's naked body slid against hers, as Miranda sleepily kissed the back of her neck. She found Miranda's hand between her breasts and brought it up to kiss the knuckles. "I'm here," she repeated.

---

"You got that end?"

Miranda knelt and pushed aside the box of clothes that was in their way. "Okay, you've got a clear path."

The mover lifted the mattress and his partner turned it so they could get out the bedroom door. Nadine stepped in from the hallway and said, "Miranda, I... Whoops." She moved to the side and let the movers carry the mattress away. She watched them go and said, "I was going to ask about the bookshelf. Do you want to alphabetize them together or put your stuff then mine?"

"Put 'em all together," Miranda said.

"Okay," Nadine said. She motioned over her shoulder and said, "You're getting rid of your bed?"

"Yeah. We don't really need two beds. Now that I'm out, we don't even need a decoy bedroom." She pulled Nadine close and kissed her neck. "I don't have to tell people you're my roommate, Live-in Lover."

Nadine giggled and moved to the side. "Stop it. I was just going to say that your bed was so beautiful. We could give my bed to Goodwill or something. I've only had it for about a month."

"Yeah, but it's seen a lifetime of action in those few weeks."

Nadine smiled shyly and said, "I feel weird, though. This is your *bed.* You've had it for years."

"Yep," Miranda said. "Almost ten years in fact. Lot of history. Lot of one-night stands, lot of memories of relationships that went wrong. But the bed in your apartment only has one memory: you and me. Us. That's my bed they're taking out and I'm replacing it with *our* bed."

Nadine blushed and turned in Miranda's arms. "In that case, I'll stop giving you grief about it."

Miranda smiled and kissed Nadine.

---

Two months later, Nadine was riding down Spring Street when she spotted a familiar navy pea coat on the sidewalk. She angled the bike towards the pedestrian and whistled as she rode up behind her. "Kate!"

Kate turned and smiled when she realized who was coming up behind her. "Dean!" Nadine straddled her bike and leaned over the handlebars to give her ex-girlfriend a hug. "How are you? I haven't seen you since you moved out!"

"I know! It feels like ages!" She looked at Kate's hair and said, "Look at *you,* though. What happened to all your hair?!"

Kate reached up and fluffed the pageboy cut. "You like? I've wanted short hair for ages, but Amy suggested it."

"Ooh, I see," Nadine winked. "How are things with you two?"

"Fantastic," Kate said, a slight blush rising in her cheeks. "I think we've really got something there."

Nadine beamed. "That's wonderful, Kate! I am so happy for you."

"And Melinda?"

"Miranda," Nadine smiled. The game was far from getting old and, so far, Kate hadn't repeated a single wrong name. "She's wonderful. We're still arguing about who will do what chores, but we're getting there. I've almost worn her down on dishes duty."

"Hang in there," Kate laughed. They embraced again and Kate pecked Nadine's cheek. A move that, not very long ago, would have caused both of them anxiety and forced them to look around to see who was watching was now done so casually neither woman noticed. "Amy wants to have you two over to her place for dinner sometime soon."

"That sounds very doable. I'll see when Miranda can get free."

"Okay," Kate said. She checked her watch and said, "Ooh, you better get going..."

"Yep. No rest for the weary," she said as she climbed back onto her seat. "It was good seeing you again, Kate. Give me a call sometime?"

"You've got it."

They parted ways and Nadine rode the rest of the way to the station with a smile on her face. She chained the bike up in front and looked across the street at her parent's shop. The lights were on, but she couldn't see either of them behind the counter.

Since her father called into the show, she and Miranda had been invited to dinner at her childhood home. It was the first time she had been inside since she was twenty, packing some things for college. Her father had remained cold, but she could see cracks in his façade. He spoke to her, acted sociable to Miranda, but seemed aloof and distracted the entire time. Nadine put this up to a lack of social skills rather than lingering bad feelings. Old habits died hard, but at least he was trying. Nadine had kissed him on the cheek when they left and he shook Miranda's hand.

As she walked inside, Sue said hello and handed her a few phone messages. They were still getting calls from people coming out of the closet. Nadine was still shocked by the sheer number of calls they were receiving. Half the island had to have come out by now. She thanked Sue and headed upstairs.

Miranda had left before Nadine was even awake, so she hadn't seen her lover at all that day. She dumped her messages and satchel at her desk and went to Miranda's office door. She saw she was on the phone, so she waved to get her attention. Miranda smiled and blew a kiss across the office to her.

Billy, who was pushing his bucket past when Nadine caught the kiss, snapped, "Now, there'll be none of that, Miss Nadine. This is a place of business."

Nadine shook her head. "You're just jealous."

"Yer darn tootin'," he said as he continued on.

Nadine went to the door of the booth and waited patiently for Simon and Willa to finish their show. The red on-air light went dark and she went inside. Willa was still acting cold to her, but it had improved from the cold shoulder to a reluctant acceptance. "Good show today?" she asked.

"It was," Willa said. "Have a nice day, Nadine."

"You, too. Bye, Simon."

He offered a wave as he slipped out of the booth.

Nadine slid into the chair Willa had been using and waited until Buffalo Springfield stopped singing *For What It's Worth.* She pulled the microphone forward and said, "Good morning, Squire's Isle. Willa and Simon are gone, but your beloved Pixie is here in their place. So sit back, relax, grab something good to eat and get ready for six hours of non-stop great music and maybe even a couple of giveaways. Coming up in the next hour, I'm going to be playing some ELO, Roy Orbison, Tom Petty and the rest of it is up to you fine folks. Call in with your requests and I'll do my best to get them all on for you.

"My name is Nadine Butler, the Pixie, and I am going to be here with you for the rest of your work day. We'll start playing all those great hits soon, but first we have to get a few dreaded commercials out of the way. So stick with me. We'll be right back."

THE END