A/N: A little twisted tale of sexual deviancy. Hey, if breeders can do it then so can we! It's a little random, but it's not bad so please review especially if you enjoy it. Features bad punctuation (deliberate!) and what I consider to be a clever, humorous little ironis ending. Kudos to everyone who picks up the Bowie reference!

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Carla shook out the old shirt, not realising in that moment who’s it was. When she lay the shirt down, she saw the picture on the front and realised it was quite unfamiliar. She checked the tag. She always only scrawled initials on her children’s shirts, but this one had a whole name.

Robert Jones.

Jones… Carla knew a David Jones. He had married Judith back in ’97. What a year that had been. Carla had finally gotten over her broken heart and moved on and Judith had gotten married. Rochelle had moved away, and, promising to keep in touch was never heard from again.

Carla hadn’t seen Judith and Robert in almost seven years. The pain she felt when the two were in a room together was immense. Well, for Carla anyway. She never had quite moved on or forgiven the betrayal she had felt from David.

But now it seemed that Jareth had become Robert's friend, if they were swapping shirts. She always knew their sons would be shirt lifters. It was in the genes.

With a sigh, Carla got in the car with the accusing apparel and, after leaving a note for Jareth and Jane drove the twenty minutes across town to Judith’s place. It still astonished her that they had been able to avoid each other so well despite living so close. She felt proud of her austerity.

All the way to the house she wondered how it would be after all these years, imagining all these scenarios where she was begged to return, that no, the partner wasn’t, could never be! loved as much as she was still. And in each scenario she was the strong one who could still walk away.

She parked her car a little crookedly out front of the house, and, taking care to lock it beforehand, made her way steadily up the driveway, shirt in hand, and proceeded to knock on the door.

Robert might answer, Carla thought of a sudden, and then she wouldn’t face Judith or David at all.

As it turned out, Judith did answer. Hi! David was still at work, she was told. Carla smiled thickly and explained the reason for her visit. She felt her heart pounding, but went inside for coffee when offered.

Judith didn’t ask her how she liked it. And when it came it was perfect. She could taste the cream mixed into it and there was even cinnamon sprinkled atop the black surface.

Judith studied her for a minute. Carla felt her face warm, and suddenly, quietly, Judith put her cup down. You know, she said, I still love you.

Carla said nothing.

Judith breathed deeply and Carla wished she could think of something to say. She wished Judith hadn’t said anything. She wished she’d never come in. She wished she’d never come over.

I shouldn’t have married him, Judith finally went on. But I loved him at the time. And I wanted children. But there’s no excitement. And there’s no love anymore. I loved him because I needed to.

But I still love you.

I’ll always love you.

You taught me. You made me what I am. You’re the breath in me that’s cruel and my voice of compassion. You’re my impulse and my sensibility.

Carla cut her off with a snide look. So what, she returned, do you want?

Judith looked sad as she said, I want you back.

And then the next thing either of them knew they were in each other’s arms, tightly wrapped limbs around one another, and their lips were melding as they once had. Carla felt the old connection sparking and felt mildly concerned within herself about it.

You have no idea how glad I am to have you back, Judith whispered against the other woman’s mouth.

Carla pulled back, gasping for breath. She looked for a long time into Judith’s eyes and then whispered back, no.

And to Judith’s stammered confusion she muttered, standing and straightening her dress, I can’t be hurt again.

She left the house, pulling her arm from Judith’s flailing hands. And as she walked back down the garden she smiled secretly to herself. That had gone exactly as planned.

Fin.

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