Title: Of Love And Weasels

Author: Crazywriter

Mentions: The character Grace could not have been perfected without the help of the dear SOS.

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Two close friends, a butch lesbian and her bisexual counterpart, find themselves questioning the context of the love they have for each other. Not exploring sexuality, but rather contexts of emotions.

Warnings: Female/female relationships, swearing like a mad femme

Archive: Ask

Feedback: Please review.

Please note this is a one-shot. It will not be continued.

Of Love And Weasels

Dom laid back on the bed and stared up at the spackled ceiling of her friend's bedroom. In the opposing corner, Grace finished her make-up and stepped back. "Damn, I look good," she declared, admiring her handiwork. "So good."

Dom rolled her eyes and sat up. "Took you long enough, now let's go." Grace shot her a mocking glare.

"Christ, Dom, it took me less than a goddamned minute to do it, how is that too long?"

"It just is," Dom said lazily, continuing to stare at the ceiling. "Thirty seconds is too long. Ten is too long. Hence, you took way too long."

"That's all you have to say? I mean, my outfit is class… mmm, gonna break me some hearts," she growled, running her fingers over the new black leather pants. "But all you have to say is it took too long?"

Dom laughed and stood up. "You're beautiful, Grace, but you already know that."

"Yeah," Grace admitted, "But it's always fucken great to make you admit it." She gave a most annoying, most dazzling smile.

Dom shook her head and stifled a laugh. "Only you," she said. "Only you." She grabbed Grace's arm and began forcing her out of the room, and then the house. Grace shook her arm off and walked on ahead, walking backwards to face Dom.

"Only me what?" Grace said in a mock-offended tone. "Only I'm beautiful? Oh, you're pretty too, sweetie."

Dom cocked an eyebrow, "Excuse me? I'm not pretty… I'm handsome." She bristled accordingly. It was Grace's turn to roll her eyes.

"Pretty, pretty, pretty."

"What'd you do if I called you cute?" Dom shot back. Grace's face went into a glare.

"Kill you in the most painful ways I could think of, that's what," she explained. "And definitely scuff up that handsome, handsome face."

"Don't patronize me, cutie," Dom teased. Grace shook her head.

"Not patronizing you, sweetheart," she said, stopping to wait for Dom to catch up. "It's just I mean, wow… You're so fucken handsome, Dom. So fucken sexy. Those big, strong, manly arms, that manly face. Oh take me, Dom! Right here, in the street. Do it now!" she exclaimed sarcastically, grabbing Dom and grinding for dramatic effect.

Dom did the one thing she did the most around Grace, and shook her head and chuckled. She pushed her off. "I knew you couldn't resist me," she declared arrogantly. And then Grace did the one thing she did most around Dom, and rolled her eyes.

"Of course, sweetheart, I'll let you live your delusions… So who are we meeting up with again?" she asked Dom, as an afterthought.

"Just a friend of mine, Cara," Dom replied.

"A girl?" Grace said, and if ears could perk up, hers did. "Dommy's got a girlfriend, Dommy's got a girlfriend," she sang out annoyingly.

Dom shot her a glare meant to silence her, but as always it failed. "Shut the fuck up, Grace," she told her. "She's just a friend. Just a friend."

Grace smiled brilliantly. "That really annoys you, doesn't it?"

Dom sighed. "Yeah, kinda."

Grace nodded. "All right… Dommy's got a girlfriend, Dommy's got a girlfriend!"

"You should ask Cara out, Dom," Grace said randomly later that evening. Dom raised her eyebrows and lit a cigarette. Once lit, she leaned back against the levy wall, facing Grace, who sat in the grass.

"No," Dom said simply. Grace glared and reached over to the six pack of Bud they'd purchased and cracked one open, downing it in one long drink.

"You should be more ladylike," Dom told her. "You shouldn't chug like that, I'm the butch around here."

Grace gave a trademark death glare. "And what does that make me? A fucken femme?" Dom nodded and grinned. Grace glowered more furiously. "I'm not a femme. I'm more butch than femme. But fuck it, I'm neither."

Dom laughed. "Liar. You're such a femme. Femmey, femmey Gracie."

Grace scowled angrily. "Fuck you. I'm not a stupid hair obsessed, high heeled wearing, lipstick smearing femme!" she ranted.

Dom shook her head. "Nope… you're the cutest little femme in the whole wide world."

"I'm going to kill you," Grace declared launching herself over by Dom. "Kill, kill, kill."

Dom laughed hysterically as Grace tried to pummel her with her fists. "Ah, it attacks. The Femme attacks! Dyke Wars II: Attack of the femmes!" Grace ignored her bad jokes and continued hitting at Dom, pushing her back on the grass.

Grace took a break from beating Dom, pinning her and glaring down at her. "Take it back," she ordered. "Say I'm not femmey. Fuck it, say I'm more butch than you are."

Dom looked up at her, still laughing, and a stupid grin on her face. "Nope. Never," she vowed. Grace scowled.

"Say it," she commanded.

"Or you'll do what?" Dom challenged, the stupid grin never leaving her face.

"I will fucken tickle you if I have to," Grace threatened, struggling to keep her face straight.

"No, you won't," Dom replied.

"And why not? Don't test me, Dom, you know I'll do anything you say I won't."

Dom rolled her eyes. "You just won't." Grace formed a sadistic smile and started tickling. Dom tried to squirm away, but Grace kept her firmly pinned.

"All right, all right," Dom gasped. "You're butcher than I am. You're not femme. You're butch. More of a butch than me anyway."

Grace stopped tickling. "That's better. Now apologize."

Dom found herself rolling her eyes again. "I'm terribly sorry."

"Uh-uh, not good enough, pookie," Grace said sweetly. "Give another try."

Dom grinned knowing what Grace wanted to hear. "I'm horribly sorry, oh absolutely gorgeous, drop-dead, stunningly beautiful Mistress Grace, evilest of them all. Please forgive the lowly and unworthy Dom the Drab."

"That's much better, sweetie," Grace cooed patronizingly. "You're forgiven."

"Fuck you," Dom said, laughing as she did. Grace raised an eyebrow.

"Well we are in the right position…" she teased. Dom shook her head and pushed her off.

"No, we aren't," Dom explained. "Because we both know that I'd be on top."

"In your dreams," Grace shot back from the grass beside Dom. "Actually that's right, only in your fucken wet dreams."

"Don't you know it," Dom deadpanned, rolling her eyes. "So why was it you were trying to kill me again?"

Grace shrugged. "I forget, but I probably had a good reason."

"Right," Dom agreed. "Because you're always right and I'm always wrong and to blame for everything."

"Exactly," Grace replied. "Besides, Dom, I've got to avenge the weasels, just got to."

Dom smiled. "Not the fucken weasels again? What weasels? There are no weasels, there never have been any weasels."

Grace sat up. "Yes there were. Before you… you killed them all…" She faked a sob. "But some live on… they will survive in the underground. Fight your weasel-hating treachery… Viva la Weasels!" she screeched at the top of her voice.

"You're insane," Dom said, staring up at the stars. "Certifiably insane."

"And you aren't, Dommy?" Grace shot back, staring up at the stars herself. "Ask Cara out."

"No," Dom answered, heaving a sigh.

"Why the fuck not?" Grace replied quickly. "She's fucken perfect for you."

Dom sighed again. "It's… it's complicated, Grace, ya know?"

"What's complicated?" Grace prodded.

Dom didn't answer straight away. Grace sat up and tore another Bud away from the six pack. "What's complicated?" she asked again.

Dom sat up and shrugged. "Just… things."

"Like what?" Grace prompted, pausing to take a long drink of the beer. "I mean, what's so complifuckencated?"

"You swear too much," Dom chastised. Grace gave her a serious look.

"Don't even try to change the subject, Dom," she warned sternly. Dom smiled and sat up in the grass, smiling slightly at the half smoked cigarette that was burned out, lying on the concrete that Grace had knocked her back on. It was kind of ironic, Dom sitting on the concrete, back against the levy, and Grace on the grass, at the edge of the concrete walkway. But it was always kind of like that, Dom realized. A line. There were lines that people drew, even Grace and Dom. Lines people drew for sanity, for reason. To keep a fucken hold of their fucken life and not fall over the edge into oblivion. To keep onto safety. They made lines- barriers.

"Fine," Dom mumbled. "Just things, Grace, you know? I mean, it's complicated. There are a lot of things I don't really understand yet, and Cara's one of them."

"Come on, Dom," Grace said, "She's perfect for you. You know it too."

"Why is this so important to you?" Dom asked, crushing the cigarette down into the cement, and grabbing a beer. "It's really not your business, dear."

Grace raised her eyebrows. "The hell it's not my business. You're my friend. I care about you." She sighed. "I'd like to think that you're, you know, happy. Not giving up on everything. So just ask her out. For… happiness, for sex, I don't know, for fucken normalcy."

"Normality," Dom replied automatically.

"What?" Grace asked, rather annoyed at being interrupted in her great mind-altering, life-changing speech.

"It always bothered me when people say normalcy, the proper word is normality. Normalcy was created after World War II when Warren G. Harding misspoke when announcing the Return To Normalcy campaign…" Dom explained. "And I mean, of course the American president doesn't misspeak, well, I mean, except George Bush, and so it just caught on and became a word, but really, it should be normality."

Grace blinked. "What?" she repeated, raising her eyebrows in disbelief.

"I said the correct term is normality…" Dom started again.

"No, shut up, you and your fucken English. Screw English, okay? It's normalcy if I say it is," Grace told Dom firmly. Dom rolled her eyes upwards and shrugged.

"Fine, it's not my fault you don't know how to speak," Dom defended. "The thing is though, with Cara… I mean, I've thought of asking her out and all but…" she trailed off.

"But?" Grace prompted.

"The fucken magic eight ball keeps pointing to an unclear answer."

"Why do you think that is?" Grace asked carefully.

"Because… because…" Dom and laid back down in the grass, holding the unopened beer can. "Because she's just… She's like no girl I've dated before."

"Ha, so she does mean something to you?" Grace half asked and half-declared.

"Yeah, she means a lot to me… just something about her, I guess."

"You even sound protective of her," Grace stated. Dom nodded.

"I am… I mean… I don't know what I mean, Gracie… but I like her. I like what she makes me feel, she makes me feel things I've never felt before."

"Then what's holding you back?" Grace asked, draining the beer and lying back down on her back. "What's stopping you?"

Dom made frustrated noise and rolled onto her side, facing Grace. "Things. Just things." Things that I've never quite been able to put into word, Dom though sullenly, things like the way you make me feel. The way Cara makes me feel. The way Isabelle made me feel. The way I feel… I don't understand it. "Things," Dom repeated, as though that somehow made it a more acceptable answer.

"What things?" Grace kept prodding. Dom bit her lip.

"Think there's a One, Grace?" she asked softly. "And I mean the One. I mean, the person who makes you feel things you've never felt before?"

"Yeah, I think there is," Grace answered.

"She's what's holding me back, ya know? Because I know who the One is. And it hurts to know the One and know you can never be with her. So you try and try and try to find some cheap substitute. But you can never really… it all comes down to the way they make you feel in the end." Dom sighed. "And to know who that is, and not be able to have them… sometimes it hurts so much you can barely breathe."

"Isabelle?" Grace asked softly, knowing the way Dom's mind worked.

I wish, Dom thought. "Might as well be," she answered. "It's as good of answer as any."

"I think… I understand," Grace said quietly. "I know I understand. I mean, whatever you feel comfortable with, Dom."

"Exactly," Dom reaffirmed. "And don't you forget it."

"You do know that just because I understand doesn't mean I'm gonna give up on you, right, Dommy?" she asked. "I'll just be a little more bleedin' sensitive about it."

Dom laughed. "Is there any way that I'll ever shut you up?"

Grace shook her head. "No, I don't think there is."

"I can think of one," Dom said.

"And what's that?" Grace replied mockingly, knowing Dom had nothing on her. Dom smiled.

"This," she said, before she leaned down and kissed Grace.

Grace stifled the shock of the lips pressed against hers and subconsciously rested a hand on the back of Dom's neck. The touch of the hand brought Dom back to reality, and she jerked back.

Grace looked up at Dom's face and opened her mouth to speak… and she would have, if they both hadn't simultaneously broken out laughing.

"Fucken A'!" Dom cried out. "That is so not fair!"

"What's not?" Grace managed out between gales of laughter.

Dom grinned. "You were not supposed to be a good kisser."

"Ha," Grace replied, "I always told you I was. Face it, Dommy, you just want me bad."

"As much as you want me," Dom shot back. "Besides, that reaffirmed exactly why we can't sleep together- neither of us would be able to keep a straight face long enough to bring the other off."

"True," Grace agreed. "But in the meantime, until you learn to be more stoic… ask Cara out."

Dom chuckled in quiet disbelief. "Shut up, bitch."

"Fuck you," Grace said.

"Didn't we just go over that?"

"Do we have to listen to this crap?" Grace demanded, shifting in the passenger side seat of Dom's car. "I mean, Jesus, this is like… suicide music done by a choking rooster."

"Yes, we do," Dom said firmly. "I happen to like it, and this happens to be my car, and so your opinion doesn't matter."

"What the fuck happened to Democracy?" Grace asked.

"You should know damn well by now that I'm a fascist," Dom explained.

"Bah, whatever happened to your ideals of Socialism and Communism?" Grace teased.

"I've always made it perfectly clear," Dom deadpanned, "That the system of government I favor is a fascist dictatorship with me as the dictator. It's when other people are going to have power that I'm a socialist." She gave Grace what she considered her most annoying smirk- and Grace thought it was too. "Either way, there shall be no more dissing of Leonard Cohen in my car. And it's better than the crap you listen too."

"What the fuck? At least the artists I like don't have a ruddy throat infection!"

"You leave Leonard alone," Dom replied, in a jokingly tight voice. "He doesn't deserve to be slandered by an ingrate such as yourself." She pulled into her driveway, parking outside the garage.

"I'm an ingrate?" Grace demanded as they got out. "An ingrate?" She walked up alongside Dom. "In that case you're an eejit. Just a cute little eejit."

Dom grinned. "Have I ever denied that?" she asked. Grace shrugged.

"Doesn't matter, I'll still call you one." Dom stuck her tongue out at Grace.

"Whatever, cutie."

"Dom, don't make me beat you," Grace threatened. Dom rolled her eyes.

"Aw, come on, dear, we all already know I'm a masochist, I'd enjoy it too much. Wouldn't serve your purpose."

"You know you want me to," Grace said, this time sticking her tongue out at Dom. "You just want me to tie you down and dominate you."

"Not so much," Dom said. "Besides, we all know I only bring you to my home to seduce you. And I'm on top."

"Yeah right… try never!" Grace replied. "And speaking of on top, how'd you get that cut on your lip?"

Dom didn't answer as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. Grace followed, shutting the door behind her. "Answer me, Dommy, how'd you get a cut on your lip? Who haven't you been telling me about?"

Dom laughed and sank down onto the couch in the living room. Grace joined her. "Teeeeeell me, Dom," she whined, hitting Dom's arm. "Fucken teeeeeell me!"

Dom continued to ignore her as she grabbed the remote and turned the television on. "There is nothing on," she declared, flipping through channel after channel. "Eighty-six channels we've got, and nothing to watch."

"Teeeell me, don't make me whine Dom, you know it doesn't suit me and I've never been good at it!"

"Yes it suits you, and you're very good at it, but I suppose I'll tell you," Dom relented. She grinned and looked over at Grace. "A girl bit me."

Grace's eyes narrowed in a mock-angry glare. "It's official, I hate you." She scowled even more furiously. "It's not fair you get girls and I don't."

Dom let out a loud laugh, "It's not my fault you have a boyfriend, Grace." She smirked. "I mean, that's your own damn fault. Besides, you love him or something like that."

Grace sighed and nodded, as though it was a great tragedy that she had a boyfriend she loved. "I… do… love… him…" she pouted. "Damn you for being right, but I swear, if and when we break up, I'm just going to go on a… a forty-eight hour all-girl sex spree."

Dom put a fist to her mouth to try and stop herself from laughing. "Good luck on that endeavor…"

"So which girl bit you?" Grace asked curiously. "I mean come on, Dom, I've got to live vicariously through you, I've got no better choice."

"I don't think I'm going to tell you," Dom said, her cocky tone mixing with an annoying one. "Don't really feel like letting you live through me today."

"Oh come on," Grace exclaimed, shaking her fist as a mock threat. "You are gonna tell me or else, Dommy baby." She cocked an eyebrow dangerously. "Don't make me tickle."

"Fine, fine," Dom surrendered. "It was Cara, if you must know."

"Fuck yeah!" Grace cheered. "You two are going out, eh?"

Dom shook her head. "Not exactly… just kind of… casually dating. Nothing more."

"Right…" Grace said. "So… formalize things. She's perfect for you."

"So you've mentioned," Dom said, forcing a small laugh. "But seriously, Grace dear, not yet. Not now."

"You're completely hopeless," Grace declared.

"Oh come on, Grace, we all know the only reason that I don't date Cara is because I want to be with you," Dom protested, sarcasm drenching her voice.

"Well, of course, but you can't have me, Dom," Grace teased.

"I can't, eh?" Dom said, then placed a hand on Grace's chin, turning it to face her. She leaned in slightly, like she was going to kiss her, inches between them turning to centimeters, before Dom jerked her head back, laughing.

"Why the hell you'd do that, Dom?" Grace said, but laughing herself. "I mean, fuck it! We both know we won't do it without laughing like idiots."

"Yeah," Dom said, giving a lopsided grin. "But it's always great to see you subconsciously close your eyes halfway to see if I'll actually go through with it."
"I do not shut my eyes when I think you're going to be kissing me," Grace protested loudly.

"You don't close them, you shut them half-way," Dom explained. "It's just a reflex, Grace, don't worry about it. I know you're not my lovemonkey."

"I should kill you for that," Grace said.

"Yeah, if for no other reason than to avenge the weasels," Dom shot back.

Grace laughed. "Viva la weasels," she proclaimed solemnly. "So, gonna ask Cara to be your girlfriend?" she asked, for probably the thousandth time since she'd met Cara.

"I hate you," Dom said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Love ya, Dommy," Grace replied.

"I know."

Grace leaned back against the windowsill and flicked another piece of paper at the peacefully sleeping Dom. It bounced off her forehead, and Dom slept on. It figures, Grace though dotingly, nothing gets in the way of Dom and her sleep.

Sometimes, Grace liked watching Dom sleep. She was so used to her friend's butch macho bravado that it almost amused her to see how Dom slept like a baby.

And besides, when she was asleep was probably the only time Dom was silent. Dom's mouth was like that flippin' energizer bunny, it just kept going and going and going and… and that's Dom for you.

Grace crinkled another piece of paper and flicked it at Dom, still getting no reaction. "Stupid eejit," she whispered fondly.

Grace had never been fooled by Dom's persona, had always seen through the macho talk about how to live fast and die young. Grace had always seen Dom for exactly what Dom was… someone who was just like everyone. Someone, who like everyone else, needed help every now and then.

She smiled thoughtfully as she wondered what Dom would do if she knew Grace thought she was nothing more than a cute little butch eejit… and then she remembered, Dom knew. Dom knew Grace, knew how Grace saw through her. After all, Dom could see through Grace, it ought swing both ways.

She sat on the foot of the bed, and she was surprised at the surge of protection she felt when she glanced at the sleeping Dom again.

Dom stirred suddenly. "Why are you up?" she asked. Grace shrugged.

"Couldn't sleep… sorry I woke you."

"No, you aren't," Dom grumbled sitting up. Grace scooted up to the head of the bed by Dom and grinned.

"Go back to sleep, Dommy, you look so cuuuute asleep."

Dom grunted. "Why'd you wake me? You know I get grumpy without my regular sixteen hours of sleep."

"You're always grumpy anyway," Grace replied smartly, knowing Dom probably wasn't awake enough to fight back.

"Is there anyway to shut you up?" Dom mumbled, glancing over at Grace, who triumphantly shook her head.

"None."

"What would you do if I kissed you again?" Dom asked in a mock-serious voice.

"Laugh," Grace answered immediately, already starting to laugh. "You know we'd both be on the floor laughing within seconds, Dommy, it's why we don't have sex."

"Oh yeah," Dom recalled. "We'd find it hilarious."

"Just end up laughing," Grace confirmed.

"I… I could make you stop laughing," Dom vowed, chucking slightly to herself. Grace raised an eyebrows and only laughed harder.

"Sure you could, Dom," she teased.

"Sure I could," Dom confirmed.

And before Grace could argue, she felt Dom's lips on hers, and Dom's hand creeping in her pajama top, hovering above the skin.

And they'd both abruptly stopped laughing.