Diana had turned on the tv in the lounge, letting an exceptionally bad fantasy movie play, while she fussed over the room and rapidly eliminated the mess her guests had made. She swept out the room and a moment later they heard the kitchen faucet start to flow.

"So," Sarah said, only half watching the movie and awkwardly trying to make conversation, "How did you meet Diana?"

"Me?" Thomas was the one to answer, "I met her to discuss a donation to a fund raiser. She was selling an ancient Greek vase showing two men who were..."

"I think I know her taste well enough to know what the men were doing," Sarah cut him off, "And then you ended up as her, what was the word, dungeon master?"

"Quite so."

"Not the type of dungeon master I'd expected with her."

Thomas pushed his glasses up, giving Sarah an inquisitive smile, as if he were inviting her to say more. When she didn't, he just shrugged and returned to watching the movie.

"My wife can't abide these," he said, clearly not that interested in the film, "Won't watch a movie unless the tears don't stop flowing till the end, but that's all good..."

Sarah frowned, "I thought you'd like to spend time with your wife."

"Oh, I do," Thomas laughed, "But every man needs his 'me'-time. Every woman too, come to think of it. Don't give me that look. We're very happy, but we give each other space, which is probably why we are happy."

"So you're not here because..."

"Sarah," Nia snapped, "A word in the hallway? I wasn't asking."\

Sarah followed Nia into the hallway, where she leaned in closer to make sure only Sarah could hear her.

"What the fuck are you doing?" she whispered, so close that Sarah could feel her breath on her lips, "I get that you want to know more, but not everyone's on about Diana's condition. She keeps regular company..."

"Oh," Sarah mumbled, "Good call. I'll give it a rest."

"Good. If anybody has something to say about Diana, they will tell you themselves. Don't go chasing answers, understood?"

"Something wrong, girls?" Diana asked, stepping out from the kitchen, looking the part of the perfect housewife, especially now that she was happily beating away at a bowl of batter.

"Just helping Sarah understand some things," Nia said sweetly, "Didn't want to bother the doc during the movie."

"He's seen that twelve times," Diana laughed, "Did Dennis shower yet?"

"Tell him I said to get in the shower or he doesn't get... Well, he knows what he won't get."

"Is Dennis one of her...?"

"He is. What she sees in him is beyond me though. ...Guy wouldn't have seen a bar of soap in the last ten years if it wasn't for her."

"That just leaves your usual healer," Sarah observed, "Are they...?"

Nia shook her head, "She's so straight that that not even Diana ha any power over her."

"Stop talking about me!" Diana called in a sing-song from the kitchen, "It's rude!"

"Sarah as about to call something back, but was interrupted by the chime in from the doorbell.

"Pizza!" Nia said happily, forgetting the conversation and rushing to open the door.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

Sarah shrugged and returned to the lounge, watching a dejected Dennis slog towards the bathroom.

"Soooo," Sarah said, half listening to Nia talking to the pizza delivery boy, or girl, going by the voice, "You're a doctor?"

"Only in name," Thomas replied, adding with mock gravitas, "I regretfully inform you that I can not look at your aching joint, because my doctorate is in art history... Now I will naturally ask you what you studied in college, purely for the pleasantries.'

"Nothing," Sarah shrugged, "Didn't go to college. I got a job using mom's connections. I'm a research assistant to a writer, Bredero?"

She left the name hanging in the air, wondering if the man would've heard of her employer.

"I hope the contemporary writer and not the Dutch playwright."

"...The former. What's wrong with the Dutch guy?"

"I hear he's terrible at paying his employees a living wage," Thomas said, then conspiratorially leaned in to Sarah, "He has been dead for four hundred years, you see."

Sarah chuckled, "No I don't work for a dead guy."

She pushed the thought that the way her life was going, it wouldn't surprise if she was, away, then finished her sentence, "Just the young adult writer."

"Awful books," Thomas said, shaking his head, "I've read them, my daughter likes them you see, but I can't stand his work... I will however admit his research is generally very well done. Good on you, miss Becker."

"You can just call me Sarah," Sarah mumbled for the fifth time that day.

"Sorry," Thomas had apologized the same amount, "Force of habit. Normally when I see anyone your age, it's one of my students, thought you obviously couldn't be..."

"Why not?" Sarah challenged, sure she could be in his class if she wanted.

"Because you're actually listening to what I'm saying, Miss Becker. Oh see, there I go again. Then again, I'd probably lose you to when I start to inform you about decay on Rembrandt's Nachtwacht."

"The noct-wat?"

"Night watch. A very famous painting, but I'm already seeing your eyes turn glassy"

"What are you nerds on about," Nia asked, balancing the pizzas into the room on her arm.

"Just shop talk," Thomas said, taking off his glasses to clean them.

"You're an art nerd too?" Nia followed up to Sarah, putting the four boxes of pizza on the table.

"At best a regular nerd," Sarah smiled weakly.

"Good. I don't want to sit here talking about erection pottery."

"Etruscan," Thomas corrected, placing his glasses back on his face, "But in any case, let's watch the movie and not exclude Miss Carlson from our... Oh, dear. The credits.'

"Just rewind it," Nia said, dropping down in her chair and hungrily eyeing the hot boxes on the table, "I missed half of it anyway."

"You've seen it twelve times," Thomas supplied.

"...I haven't seen it," Sarah added.

"Well then, Miss Becker, oh shoot, feast your eyes on the worst the nineties have to offer.

Thomas picked up the remote and rewound the movie as Sarah glanced at the pizza, then at Nia, who shook her head, then nodded in the general direction of the kitchen. Clearly they'd wait for Diana and Dennis to come back before they ate.

Sarah sighed, looking longingly at the pizza, then simply focused on the movie.

Sarah was startled from her sleep by a gently shake of her shoulder.

"Sarah? Sarah?"

"Hrm?"

"You should go sleep in your bed. Your back will thank you tomorrow."

Sarah opened her eyes and found herself under the dimmed lights of the lounge, where she had apparently fallen asleep in her chair.

"...how long have I been out?"

"Most of the movie and then some. We didn't want to bother you."

"Well, at least nobody tried to make me pee my pants," Sarah said, rubbing her eyes.

Diana sat down on the armrest of the chair and absent mindedly ran her fingers through Sarah's hair, "I was going to ask if you've given my question some thought, but between the game and the movie, I haven't given you much chance for that."

Sarah pulled away from the sign of affection, pushing Diana's hand away by the wrist.

"What question?"

"What would make you happy?"

Sarah sighed and sank back down in the chair, remaining quiet.

"If you don't know, you can always try new things. Have you considered community college."

"You have to be joking."

Diana smiled, "It did wonders for Val."

"Who?"

"Our usual healer. I guess you'll meet her next time, if you still want to play."

Sarah considered the question as she got out of the chair.

"Well," she started and saw Diana's face fall. The woman was expecting to be turned down, "I should try new things to find my bliss, shouldn't I?"

Diana's face lit up, "So you're not leaving?"

Sarah shook her head. She had taken most of the game to think about that. People around Diana seemed to be a lot happier than she'd ever been, so she had selfishly made up her mind, though refused to say in as many words.

"Where else am I going to get rent this good?" she replied, making it sound like a pragmatic choice, "Even with the added fees..."

"Can be worth it, given the chance," Diana said and softly brushed Sarah's hand with her fingers.

Sarah hastily pulled her hand away and put it in her pocket, "Good night, Diana."

"Good night, Sarah," Diana said innocently. She remained on the armrest until she was sure Sarah had gone upstairs, then slowly let herself sink down in the warmth Sarah had left in the chair.