"I already told you, I don't drink," Priyanka spoke firmly, rubbing the bridge of her nose as she stood on the porch steps of the temple while the sun set over the ocean, giving an annoyed look to the woman she'd met only a short few minutes ago.

"Like I said, you don't have to," Vidalia grinned, "In fact, it's better if you don't because then you can be the designated driver for us two wild girls," she gestured to the mousy redhead standing a small distance away near the screen door, clutching her purse.

On Tuesday nights, Priyanka had a tradition of arriving at the temple to meet Pearl for tea. But just as she had approached the house and knocked, the gem had opened the door, immediately apologizing, explaining she would not be available that evening, something about a nuclear fissure emerging in the sea (Priyanka didn't bother asking for an explanation, she didn't even want to know), and she needed to leave immediately, dragging along her two other companions, and Steven, who gleefully greeted the doctor as he was whisked away onto the teleportation pad, and the team of gems disappeared.

Vidalia had expressed casual disappointment as she had stood behind Priyanka, her planned outing having been whittled down to two participants without Amethyst. She'd invited Priyanka when she ran into her right outside the temple with her companion, but the woman wasn't interested, citing her aversion to alcohol for sake of keeping healthy.

"I'm sorry," Priyanka refused again, "I don't even know you two that well anyway, outside of public events."

"Oh come on," Vidalia winked, "This would be the perfect time to get to know the two of us!"

"I don't even know your name," Priyanka pointed to Vidalia's companion, who seemed to be staring off into space.

"Oh!", the woman perked up, "Er, Martha," she smiled awkwardly, giving a wave.

"Er, hello," she nodded back, "Priyanka," she introduced herself, then glanced to the grinning blonde woman.

"Vidalia", she held out a paint stained hand to shake, still smiling eagerly, "Now that we're acquainted, maybe now you'd feel up to-"

"I think I'll just go home," Priyanka spoke flatly.

Vidalia gave a defeated look, then smiled slyly, "Awww, well that's a shame. Well, Martie, I guess we'll both have to walk home in the dead of night...by ourselves...just two drunk middle aged ladies without an escort, going past dangerous neighborhoods...all by ourselves...at night..."

Priyanka gave a stern look, "Are you guilting me into being your driver?"

"Is it working?", Vidalia grinned, and Martha held back a snicker.

"Surprisingly yes," Priyanka gave a defeated look, then firmly added "I don't want to be out any later than 10 o'clock understood? I have to make sure my daughter is in bed."

"Peachy," Vidalia gave a thumbs up, and slung a shoulder around Martha, giving an excited squeeze, "Shall we?"

"Alright," Priyanka rolled her eyes, gesturing to the road overlooking the beach, "I'm parked down there, just follow me."

She knew she was going to regret this.

She was already starting to regret this as soon as they were sat at a table and she didn't see a single listing of tea whatsoever. She even asked the bartender, who gave her the weirdest look.

Reluctantly, she'd settled for soda water (it had no calories or sugar), while Martha ordered a Tom Collins, and Vidalia a pint of beer.

"So, erm, how do you two know each other?", Priyanka asked the two women as she reached for a napkin to wipe the tabletop with, finding it grimy.

"We've been buds since before we had kids! Back when we were both two wild cool teenagers," Vidalia smiled, gently nudging Martha's shoulder. Martha gave a polite smile and a nod of agreement.

"Are you friends with Pearl as well?", the doctor then asked.

"Er, not her specifically," Vidalia shrugged, "I'm more in sync with Amethyst, y'know?"

"I see," Priyanka nodded. No surprise there.

"I don't really know any of them," Martha admitted with a slightly embarrassed tone, "I'm just friends with Vidalia. They seem like lovely people though."

When the drinks arrived, Priyanka didn't even bother to unwrap the straw she was given with hers, not really intending to drink it anyway. Vidalia had suggested that she could order food in lieu of liquor, but she'd refused that too, not too keen on eating greasy bar meals.

She wondered if the two ladies she was accompanying thought she was being boring this way. Not that she really cared. But it was just a thought.

"So you two both have children, you said?"

"I've got two ruffians," Vidalia beamed proudly, "Sour Cream and Onion."

"That's a chip flavor," Priyanka replied.

"Nah, those are my two boys."

"I have a son; Lars," Martha added, taking a sip of her drink.

"Is that the boy who works at the doughnut shop? With the...uh...ears?"

"Er, yes," the woman blushed, looking embarrassed again, not looking up.

"I know him," Priyanka nodded, "I had to go in to buy coffee for my nurses one morning and he was opening up. He clearly didn't get much sleep-"

"Oh dear, was he rude to you? I'm so sorry-", Martha began, looking worried.

"Oh no, not that," Priyanka assured, "He was drinking a chai latte with four shots of espresso," she gave a small look of amusement, "He was going to be fated for quite the caffeine crash five hours later. I told him so, and he fully accepted his fate."

"Oh, well good!", Martha looked relieved, and gave a small laugh, then took another quick sip of her drink, peering around the room.

"What about you, Pri? You said you have a kid, right?", Vidalia questioned, taking a swallow of beer.

"Priyanka," she corrected the name Vidalia gave her, then nodded, "My daughter, Connie. She's friends with that Steven boy who lives in the temple."

"Aw, no kiddin'?", Vidalia smiled, "He's a fun kid, Onion loves hanging around with him."

"Lars...tolerates him," Martha smiled sheepishly, "I quite adore him."

"I'm not so sure he's the best influence on my daughter...but she does seem happier with him around, and to provide her a little leeway from her usual activities..."

"What does she do?", Vidalia then asked.

Priyanka began to list off all of Connie's activities, and achievements with a bit of pride, while the other two ladies looked a bit surprised, Martha even more so.

"Wow, I envy that," she commented softly, taking another sip of her drink, then excused herself to use the bathroom.

Priyanka watched her leave, then glanced to Vidalia, "She seems quiet."

"She's just having a rough week, family drama and stuff. She just had to get away from it for the night," Vidalia shrugged.

"Will she be alright?"

"Oh yeah. Don't let her fool you. Martie is the toughest and wildest babe I know besides Amethyst."

"Really," Priyanka responded flatly, hardly believing it.

"Really," Vidalia grinned.

They'd first met each other at a back to school party for second year high school students, Vidalia having commented on Martha's bellbottom pants and brightly colored tie-dye top and flowers, and Martha enjoying the other girl's flannel shirt and jeans with holes in the knee, and muddy boots she stole from her father.

Vidalia knew not to judge Martie's flower-child style when the girl's initially gentle demeanor gave way to a viciously wild and untameable spirit when it came to the things she believed in. She fought to make sure the girls in school had as loud of a voice in decisions as the boys did, she fought for the right to wear whatever she wanted, even if the school dress code hated the message. She impressed Vidalia when she even skipped school to march in a protest downtown against the recent drafts for the army. And she impressed her right back when she got up in the middle of math class to go out and join her.

Neither of them found much interest in boys, instead finding enjoyment in trading records with each other, swapping clothes, and spending weekends camping together.

Martie was there for her when her parents divorced, and she was getting caught in the middle of all her parents' disputes, and being fought over for custody. Martie told her nobody had the right to own her. And Vidalia took it as the holy truth.

Vidalia made sure to be there for Martie when her older brother died suddenly that next summer. She never gave the details to her, and she kept a brave face until she finally broke down weeks later over it, and Vidalia was quick to comfort her. Martie was still a free spirit after that, but seemed more keen to do it for Vidalia's attention rather than her own revolutionary drive.

Eventually, even with their burning senses of individuality, they both knew they had to keep their relationship private. They knew nobody was going to be rooting for them, and as far as everyone else in their social circle knew, they were just both really close friends. And they'd have to keep it that way, or it would wind up with Martie getting banned from Vidalia's parents homes, and Vidalia getting a black eye after being caught holding hands with her. They hadn't even been kissing.

When high school ended, and college hit, things just got more complicated, and they both decided to break up, and see other people. See other friends.

Martha ended up leaving town for some years, probably going from group to group, from van to van, bus to bus, protest to protest, getting a taste of the country's rebellious counterculture, and the haze of enlightenment.

Vidalia ended up on a similar but still widely different path, finding her interests more in the music scene. She had the right to her own choices, like Martha said, and she was going to do it however she wanted, risks and all.

Shortly before Martha had returned to town, Vidalia found she had become pregnant. She knew her old friend would probably get a laugh out of the fact the father was also named Marty.

Martie came back to town with a few aliases on drivers licenses, and an arrest warrant out for one of them. She had plenty of stories to tell, but she was more invested in making sure Vidalia was alright.

She was willing to offer to stay with her, and help her raise her child however she could. But Vidalia's new friends seemed to have that covered.

Vidalia hadn't needed Marty to raise her son, and she evidently didn't need Martie either.

"I found razor blades in my son's backpack yesterday," Martha had suddenly spoken up.

"Oh shoot, really?", Vidalia perked up, looking at her old friend as they slowly walked along the beach towards the house on the cliff side. She'd asked Martha how her son was doing, and Martha had answered that he had been fine, and refused to say any further until now.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing," Martha sighed.

"Did you talk to him?"

"Not yet...and I don't think I should."

"Uhh, if your kid is slicing himself up, maybe you should think about that-"

"I can't risk losing his trust again," Martha cut in, rubbing the bridge of her nose, "If he knows I went through his backpack, he'll never feel comfortable talking to me ever again. We hardly talk much to begin with."

"Well you can't just let him keep doing that...", Vidalia frowned.

"I know..." she mumbled, "He needs therapy, but god knows how I can afford it...to keep him stable."

Martha stood in place, picking at her finger.

"I don't know what to do anymore. He hardly talks to me, and if I bring anything up, he gets upset."

"What about Dante?"

"Dante doesn't understand any of this. He thinks it's all just from him being a bratty teenager or something. I don't think he'd get it if I sent our son to therapy. He'd try to understand, but he wouldn't really ever know."

Martha rubbed her eye with her thumb, and laughed weakly, like she was holding back the urge to break down.

"I can't lose Laramie again."

"Hey," Vidalia frowned, "You know that wasn't your fault. Your brother had issues, and you didn't have any way of knowing that. You weren't his keeper."

"But this is my son now," she whispered, "I'm supposed to make sure he's happy and healthy. If he feels unworthy of living, then that means I'm a failure."

"No, hey," her friend frowned, and pulled her into a one armed hug, "You're not a failure. You're trying to help him out. Some parents, like yours, don't ever give a shit about this stuff. You just want your kid to be okay. "

"But is that enough? To want things to be alright?"

"Well, no, you have to work for them, but if I know you Martie, you've worked for everything you've ever done. You went through protests, you escaped the fuzz, you said fuck the system when it tried to fuck you right back, you had your kid without epidural-"



Martha sputtered and gave a laugh, and Vidalia smiled as she continued.

"-You got your own business off the ground, and you're working with your husband to raise a kid the best way you know how. If that's not hard work, I don't know what is."

Martha rubbed her face, hiding the blush from her cheeks, "Thank you..."

"You're still the toughest craziest woman I know, even if you traded out the bellbottoms for dresses."

All Martha could do was give a small smile, and Vidalia nudged her arm, "Your kid likes art right? If you want, you can send him over to my garage on his time off, and he can take out all his shit on a canvas. That might help out a little."

"That might," Martha nodded, then let out a deep breath, "I think I just need to wind down a little, and let loose, you know?"

"My thoughts exactly, that's why we're going out tonight," she grinned, and gave a friendly kiss on the cheek that made her blush, and keeping an arm laced around her old friend, she walked towards the house to grab Amethyst for their night out, fated to cross paths with the serious woman who had just parked her car near the beach.

Vidalia, in jest, had invited her out drinking, and the woman declined.

"I don't drink."

Priyanka had taken a sip of her water, and perked up when she suddenly heard Vidalia growl, "Marty."

Looking around for Martha, Priyanka shrugged, "I think she's still in the bathroom."

"No. Marty," Vidalia growled again, looking strangely angry, glaring at the row of bar stools that was behind Priyanka. Turning around, the woman saw a balding, poorly aged man hunched over in his seat, muttering something about avocados and downing Prairie Chicken shots.

"Er...him?", Priyanka frowned.

"That two-timing no good son of a bitch thinks he can show his face in this town again after using my son-" the blonde muttered murderously, fingers digging into the table, almost cracking it. Before Priyanka could even make a reply, she muttered she needed another drink, and got up, stumbling to another counter to order.

Right as Vidalia left, Martha came back, and asked the bartender with the politeness of a churchmouse to refresh and add 'a little green' to her drink. Priyanka had no idea what that meant, and wasn't sure she wanted to know.

After five minutes, Vidalia hadn't come back, and Martha was two thirds of the way through with her second drink, and a little more giggly than Priyanka remembered her, playing with her glasses, and finding something rather humorous.

"So um...pardon my curiosity but, what exactly does 'a little green' mean for a drink?"

"Oh, it just means absinthe," Martha smiled largely.

"Oh...oh," Priyanka's eyes widened, and she looked at the near finished spiked Tom Collins, "Well..."

Martha suddenly giggled about something, then looked over, "Oh look! It's uh...um...Marty! Wow, that asshole," she smiled, then sat back up straight in her chair, "You know, he got Vidalia pregnant, but like, um...my name is also Martie...so it's like...whenever I hear people say 'eyyy Marty got Vidalia pregnant' I'm like 'No I didn't!'"

Martha then burst into the wildest laughter she'd made all night, and slumped her head against the table as she continued to laugh at her own drunk joke. And as embarrassed as Priyanka wanted to be for her, she also found the whole thing amusing.

When Vidalia came back to the table, she was still glaring daggers at Marty, who still hadn't even noticed her presence, and her drink was already near finished.

"Is that your second drink-?"

"Third," she growled, "Finished the second before I came back."

"Maybe you should cut yourself off of-"

"Don't tell me what to do, Pri," Vidalia glared at her, and before she could say anything else, her eyes caught her ex-lover's, and he smiled big and ugly, "Well well well, look who's still here."

"Eat all my dicks," Vidalia snarled at him, tensing up like a cat ready to lunge.

"Aw hey, no need to get unfriendly, sweetheart, I'm just ready to pop out of town again, had to collect all my forgotten Guacola stuff," Marty shrugged, grinning in a way that Priyanka found most unpleasant.

"Oh hey, I'm super pumped our kid takes after me. Makes me real proud."

In less than a second, Vidalia had vaulted the table and had Marty on the floor, cursing violently and beating him into an impressive pulp while he squawked and yelled and hurled slurs at her and her party, throwing some pretty specific insults in Martha's direction.

When Priyanka had forcibly hauled Vidalia off of Marty and tried to coax her out of the bar and to her car, Marty rubbed his face, and sneered at Martha who stood there amidst the damage, looking disoriented, "Boy, wait until I tell Yellowtail that she's gettin' friendly with you again."

With an ear splitting screech of war, and the passionate fire of revolution reignited inside of her for just a moment, Martha had lifted a barstool over her head, and cracked it in half over Marty's own head, knocking him out cold. Panting with exertion, she grinned, fixing her glasses back on her face.

Man that felt good!

Just as she was about to dare any of the other bar patrons to dare mess with her, a very firm hand tapped her shoulder, and she turned around, and she went pale seeing the person holding up a police badge.

Grinning coolly, the man smiled, "I could recognize you anywhere. "

Martha grinned nervously, trying to play dumb, "You can?"

"Annette Wallace."

Oh shit, that alias, Martha went pale.

"Annette Wallace?", Priyanka looked at the cop, then at Martha.

"I'm arresting you for vandalism, arson, and kidnapping-"

"Wait, what?", Priyanka gasped, surprised at these allegations.

"Back in '86, this woman was part of a group that firebombed the then-governor of Delmarva's mansion with homemade smoke bombs, vandalized the interior with propaganda, left trash inside...she herself stole the governor's dog."

"Oh my god," Priyanka mumbled, and started to pull a reluctant Vidalia towards the exit, knowing they best leave before things got too involved.

"And now I'm adding assault to her charges," the cop continued, then looked up to glance at Vidalia to point out her assault charges too, but saw the two fleeing out the door.

Vidalia hopped into Priyanka's car, sitting upright, and groaned, "Pri, I'm sorry I got you into this mess."

"...that didn't go as badly as I thought it might," Priyanka suddenly admitted, "...as a matter of fact...that was kind of entertaining."

"Wow...really?"

"It's certainly not as bad as what I see at the hospital sometimes," she shrugged, "Are you feeling alright?"

"I am now," Vidalia stretched, "Beating the shit out of that pus-bucket made me feel a lot better."

Priyanka smiled a little, "Well...good," then looked back at the bar, then down at her lap, "I do feel a little sorry that Martha is getting arrested though."

"Me too," Vidalia sighed, "You know, she really-"

Her thought was cut short by a triumphant scream of escape, and Martha rushing out of the bar, and to the car, immediately piling into the back seat, screaming, "DRIVE!"

"But the-!"

"JUST DRIVE!", Martha screamed at Priyanka again, laying flat on the seat to hide as the woman slammed on the gas and veered out of the parking lot ten miles over the speed limit, and down the road to freedom.

Vidalia told Priyanka they'd have to do this again sometime, when Amethyst was available.

"She's the real life of the party."

Lars had grumbled curses when he heard the doorbell get rung again, and not hearing his father wake up to go answer it. Having to go all the way downstairs from the attic was enough, but to have to put on pants to answer the door was a whole other task, and he wasn't that pleased to do it.

Once he stomped downstairs and answered the door, he was surprised to see Vidalia at the door, holding his half-conscious mother up against her shoulder while another woman sat in a car still running out front.

"What the-"

"She just had a little too much fun," Vidalia shrugged, and carefully passed her over, making sure she didn't fall flat, giving her a friendly goodnight kiss on the cheek, "You should get her to bed or on the couch, get her comfy."

"Jesus Christ," Lars muttered, eyes wide at seeing his mother drunk, "Ma, you really got smashed."

Martha muttered half-asleep gibberish, and nestled her cheek against her son's shoulder. He made a bit of an embarrassed face, and looked up at Vidalia, "Uh...thanks I guess."

"Sure thing. By the way, you're coming to my garage tomorrow, we're going to destroy some canvases, so bring clothes you don't like, alright?"

"Uh...What?"

"Good," she smirked, "See you at noon," and turned to leave before glancing back to him, "One more thing?"

"Shoot."

"Give your mom a kiss goodnight before you leave her alone tonight. She really loves you, kiddo."

Vidalia smiled as she heard Martha half-consciously repeat the sentiment, and left before Lars could even say a word back.

After dropping Vidalia off at home, Priyanka finally made it back to her own home, seeing all the lights were out, and assumed both her husband and daughter were asleep.

Feeling strangely content, she decided to take a look at her watch.

It was 11:59 PM.

Damn it.