Michael
It had been months. She hadn't spoken to Carina since before the attack in December; she had sought comfort in her friends and found that Carina was nowhere to be found. Days turned into weeks, and now, it had been almost three months. 

Maybe it was her fault as well. When she was well enough to walk, she took care to avoid the general store woman at all cost; she was hurting, but she didn't want to say that. She wanted to pretend everything was fine; that Carina hadn't hurt her feelings at all. Not a single visit? Not even a letter? It wasn't like Carina didn't know where she was staying! 

But she was putting this to rest today. She'd set out, tied her hair up in a bandana and set about with her gaudy earrings and bangles, and marched right into the general store. 

She felt her stomach twist and turn. The last time she'd seen Carina was under completely different circumstances. They'd *Kissed*, they'd laughed, they'd talked about such personal things... And now they felt like strangers. 

She sucked in a breath and walked to the counter, rapping her knuckles on the wood. "Excuse me, miss," She said casually, folding her arms on the top. "Where could I inquire about the candy in this fine establishment?" 

Maybe if she pretended everything was fine, she could will it to be so. Her stomach was in knots. She wasn't sure how Carina would receive her. She wasn't sure how any of this would go. Maybe Carina didn't want anything to do with her at all.
Lynda
Carina Templeton was not one to dwell on the associated imagery of memories. She discarded the fleshy bits of recollection and retained the emotion: the anger, the fear, and confusion. The family that abandoned her lived on in her rage. The long road she had walked to Briar Ridge rolled out again before her with the beckoning of exhaustion each night. In the last few months, however, something had rewired in the way her mind tied itself to events. 

She could see every torn edge of skin down Mrs. Bigby's throat as she lay dying in the doctor's ward. The flame of burning moonshine lit her eyes from behind when she thought of the night that wolf had taken the only person she loved from her. Now that she had witnessed another attack on someone dear, she could not seem to separate the image of Dimitra storing a caramel in her cheek from the grisly scene of the woman torn open on the Hughes' house floor. 

This trade of feeling for recollection of sensory details was not fair and clean, for Carina retained both sets of information with her new memories. She could smell the hot stench of the beast as she relived her terror. Bathed in guilt for her failure to defend her, she could vividly remember Dimitra's panicked eyes 

*All* She could seem to remember was that look on Dimitra's face whenever she thought of her friend. That look had frozen Carina dead to her place as Dimitra was rushed to the doctor. It had frozen her at her own kitchen table as she fought to get up and pay the woman a visit as she healed. It had stilled her heart when Abel Hughes came into the general store, sharing news of his newest house guest. 
_ _

From that first step she did not take to carry Dimitra's battered body, Carina refused to make up for her inaction. The weeks went by, and the more ridiculous she felt in taking that first step. Her mounting guilt only served to further solidify her stance. Carina did not understand the magnitude of emotion that surrounded Dimitra's situation, and she fought like hell not to engage with her own mind when it wondered: Why do you care so much? 

By the second month, she had nearly convinced herself she had never cared. She hadn't heard news of Dimitra succumbing to her injuries, and so she could summon happiness that the woman wasn't dead. That apathy never sat right, though. It itched and itched and itched, and her care for Dimitra crawled beneath her skin like so many insects carrying affection to the hive of her heart. That's why, when Miss Florakis set the bell on the shop door ringing, those pesky bugs all swarmed within Carina. She could not have hoped to quell what surfaced as a result. 

Just barely, Carina managed to step out from behind the counter with her composure still intact. Just barely, she paced the few steps to Dimitra without stumbling. Just barely, she held back her emotion until *After* She had gathered the other woman in a too-tight embrace, crying hot, swollen tears onto the back of Dimitra's neck. The back of Dimitra's shirt was gathered into Carina's clenched fists, and the shopkeeper *Squeezed* Hard to keep from making any untoward sounds. The only indication that she was sobbing was the convulsing tension of her chest, and the dampness of her falling tears. 
_ _

"I didn't bring you any. While you were healing. I didn't bring you any candy, I–" She blubbered, but only for a moment, before she gathered herself (or attempted to). Straightening, she sniffed a great, watery sniff, and drew her sleeve up across her face to clear the tears. 
"You're walking. You— look well." Her attempt at casual interaction was ridiculous, given the display she'd just put on, but she attempted it all the same. 
_ _
Michael
She had not anticipated the actions of which Carina took. She had not expected Carina to come around the counter and hug her, nor had she expected to feel her shirt become damp from the tears of her friend. It was instinctual for her to wrap her arms around her dear friend and squeeze her tight, to pet her hair in that moment. How could she be so angry when Carina was so upset, showing a vulnerability she wasn't sure she showed many people at all? 

As soon as Carina pulled back, Dimitra rested her hands on her shoulders and gave her a look. "Then I think you owe me a piece of candy or two, don't you?" She raised an eyebrow and squeezed her shoulders, looking down at her legs then. "I can walk and talk and sing, too. Can you believe it?" She flashed her a smile, reaching up to wipe a stray tear off her dear friend's face. 

"Don't cry over little old me..." She said, pulling her hands back to rest on her hips. "I just... You know, I was wondering where you were for the past few months." Dimitra didn't want to let her completely off the hook, but it was hard when Carina's eyes were still rimmed with red from crying so hard. "You're one of my dearest friends and I hardly saw you at all." In fairness, she'd been avoiding her, too. "Was starting to wonder if you forgot about me because I wasn't around to bother you." 

Dimitra twisted a curl around her finger as she spoke, bracelets clinking together with the motion each time. Nervousness; something that was so foreign to her.
Lynda
Now that Dimitra had lent her voice to the situation, Carina had time to stand back from what had transpired. She had little recollection of the steps that led from behind the cash register to here, weepy, in front of Dimitra. Their embrace had been so needed, and it was taking all of Carina's will not to crawl forward again into the other woman's arms as something between a lover and a scared child. 

"I'll do a special– buy one piece, get one free." The shopkeeper would be damned if she let a girl with a few boo-boos take advantage of her in a moment of weakness! 

Just as Carina honest-to-god opened her mouth to protest *I wasn't crying!*, Dimitra smoothed a tear from beneath her eye. Embarrassingly, she leaned into the touch, losing herself and losing herself. She looked at the floor– a rare and startling gesture for Miss Templeton. 

"I know. I know I wasn't there. I didn't forget about you, Dimitra." She sniffled, murmuring her remorse to her own chest. 
"You don't deserve the excuses I have to offer. You just don't. You don't have to forgive me, either. It's so... It's just so good to see you." Carina said lamely. On some level, she recognized this as the moment where she told Dimitra she'd been scared. She'd been scared of losing her, when the loss of Mrs. Bigby was so fresh. She should have confessed that she was terrified of finding out how much grief she was capable of supporting, and so she stayed away, citing 'no news is good news' as her guiding philosophy. At some point, 'no news' had just become 'avoid the news.' 
_ _

Carina didn't notice that Dimitra was fidgeting, too blinded by her own inner war to clock her friend's hair twirl as an outlet. The fact that Dimitra'd found the strength to come here and ask for the attention she'd been owed left Carina all the more mired in guilt. Shouldn't it have been Carina summoning the strength to pay the debt of affection she owed the woman? 
_ _
Michael
There was an aching, swelling feeling in her chest. It was a combination of affection and guilt; a seizing combination that Dimitra had not experienced before and found she wasn't a fan of. She didn't want to even broach the subject of how they'd left their friendship a few months ago. They'd kissed, they'd laughed, and now... Well, things were different. 

It hadn't been hard to fall in love with Abel Hughes. She'd always had a bit of a flame for him, sure, but having him take care of her for three months had been enough to seal the deal. Now, she stood before Carina feeling that warmth flicker in her chest once more and guilt from all sides. 

"It's good to see you too," She said softly and hugged her again. She'd missed her. Truly, she had wanted to ask after her; how often she'd wanted to ask Rhett the question that laid on the tip of her tongue. *Has Carina asked about me at all?* But she hadn't asked, because she was afraid the answer would be one she didn't want to hear. *No, she hasn't asked about you at all.* 

Dimitra squeezed her tight before she let go again. She liked the contact; how warm she was and how Carina smelled. "There's nothing to forgive," She assured her as she squeezed. "As long as you give me two pieces of candy for free." Dimitra teased her, unwilling to let her go just yet.
Lynda
Carina hadn't been ready for a second embrace and received it stiffly at first. The squeeze caught her off guard and she didn't gather herself in time to return it. She'd been too busy wondering what came next. Surely they couldn't pick up where they'd left off? Had the preacher taken the space in Dimitra's heart that Carina had barely begun to carve for herself? In her haze, she let her fingers curl dreamily into Dimitra's palm as they separated, holding the woman's hand loosely. She dropped it in mock-outrage, though, when Dimitra pushed again for a candy tithe. 

"*Two pieces?*" Carina gasped, clutching the thin gold chain around her neck, overdramatic. Soon, her scandal gave way to a smirk, and she stepped backward a few paces before turning to let herself behind the counter. She bent to retrieve the brass sugar tongs, and left them swinging lazily from an outstretched finger toward Dimitra. This was like the key to the city; a tool to pick from any of the jars on display. 

"I won't even keep count." She smiled, then straightened, "Make it quick, before I have to call the Sheriff to report this... This *Burglary!*" The humor in her voice was drier than could typically be expected. She still had the Preacher on her mind. As Dimitra hunted for her bounty, Carina knit her fingers together beside the cash register. 

"You've been staying with Abel Hughes." She commented, peeking up to scrutinize Dimitra's reaction. 
_ _
Michael
She delighted in Carina's mock outrage, the lightness in her tone as she handed over those tongs. Dimitra slipped behind the counter and immediately went for the caramels, plucking out two. She migrated to the licorice and tried not to be greedy, only lightening the load by one. She moved on to the butterscotches— 

Her breath caught in her throat and she did freeze up, putting the lid back on the glass jar she'd been so ready to ransack. "I have," Dimitra said, her back to Carina as she twisted the wax paper off the caramel and put it in her mouth. She didn't know what to say— she was sorry? That she was a filthy harlot and that Carina should slap her silly for it? 

"He offered to take care of me after everything," She said. "He's got a spare room and spare time," Dimitra seemed nervous; the way she shifted from foot to foot and all. "You've got a new roommate, right?" She asked, eyes narrowed minutely, trying to seek out answers on her own. *Does she kiss you like I did?* She couldn't say that; that wasn't fair.
Lynda
Carina stifled winces with every jar lid she heard open and close, honest to God shutting her eyes as not to witness the thievery. She only looked as she heard the paper on a caramel unwind, catching the tail end of the treat disappearing behind Dimitra's smile. 

Now, Carina noticed the fidgeting. Was Dimitra... Nervous? Carina nearly refused to believe it. Had Dimitra *Ever* Been nervous in her life? The idea of it was absurd. It made just about as much sense as a town full of werewolves. She regarded Dimitra's answer with a straight face, folding her hands on the countertop. 

"That's good of him. I hope he has enjoyed your company." She said stiffly, watching Dimitra make a subtle accusation of her own. Carina narrowed her eyes right back, but found it difficult to smother the smirk that threatened her steely expression. She just knew Dimitra would appreciate the ruse she'd laid for Lily, was all. She wanted to share it, and couldn't rightly help herself in doing so. 

"I do. She's mighty green, Dimitra. *Miiiighty* Green." Her lips maintained their half-smirk, but at the last moment, she elected not to delve into the full recount of Lily's debut. 

"Doesn't believe in werewolves." She offered instead, "But, I suppose I may have given her a reason to think me a liar." Now, the smirk returned in full color, and Carina placed a hand at the side of her mouth, standing on tiptoe to lean over the counter and stage whisper, "I didn't make the greatest first impression." She confessed, mouthing the word *Oops!* Before stepping back onto the shop floor and leaning against a support beam. 

"She's lousy dinner company, turns out. But I have high standards." Carina added, her eyes trained on Dimitra's face expectantly. 
_ _
Michael
"He has," She said, rolling the caramel around in her mouth. It was sweet and buttery tasting; she loved them. They were her favorite; the memory of sucking on them in the kitchen made a flush creep down her neck subtly. Being in close proximity to Carina was clearly dangerous territory; she could smell the subtle sweet perfume on her person and it conjured up many thoughts of that cold December night in front of the fire. "I like to think I made the house a little brighter during my stay." 

Dimitra leaned on the counter, her eyes trained on Carina Templeton and soaking her in. She cracked a wide smirk as she told her story, a bright laugh following. "You're terrible!" She swatted gently at her arm and bumped her shoulder against hers. "I love it. Absolutely love it." 

She leaned back as Carina did as well, trailing her fingers along the counter. Her eyes flickered up to meet hers as Carina spoke of her *High standards* And she couldn't help but feel a flicker in her belly. "I'd say so," She said, leaning on the counter once more and curling a strand of hair around her finger. 

"You've really got a taste for the finest things in life," She pointed out. "Of course you've got high standards." Her smirk broadened and she snickered. "Besides, not many dinner guests can offer as much as others." She said, before settling in to sucking on that caramel again.
Lynda
Carina brightened immeasurably under Dimitra's examination. Her skin took on a lively color, and her heart quickened. She'd missed this. She really had. *You make the shop brighter, too. Stay.* She thought, smiling to herself, and smiling even brighter when Dimitra approved of her sinister initiation of Lily. 

"You know how often I think about that stew you made at your place?" Carina sighed suddenly, feeling like they'd slotted right back into the groove of friendship. It was easy to feel comfortable around Dimitra. It was easy to ignore the fact that they'd been strangers for so long because of Carina's thoughtlessness. Dimitra made her feel absolved and worshipped, like she could do no wrong. Maybe that was why she'd let herself grow distant in the first place— because she knew that Dimitra would forgive her? 

The warmth she'd felt was gone in about three heartbeats, as quickly as it'd come on. Dimitra had a preacher to make stew for, now. Surely it was best for Carina to inch away, no matter how fervently she wanted to cling to the woman's arm. What did she really want from Dimitra, though? Access to that feel-good power she held, whenever she called upon it? It wasn't fair, Carina was beginning to see. She couldn't imagine what she had to offer in return. This was a surprising realization, coming from one of the most self-important people in Briar Ridge, but seeing Dimitra hurt by her made something shift into place at the center of her chest. 

*Won't you make it for me again sometime?* She wanted to say, of the stew. *I hope I can come over again soon.*
Instead, she gave a sad kind of smile. 

"You'll have to give me the recipe for it."
Michael
Dimitra sought to find something more in Carina's face; her eyes darted to the twitch of her lips, the way her eyes softened and hardened at the drop of a hat. "I don't think I can give you the recipe," Dimitra said apologetically, folding her arms on the counter. "It's a family recipe..." She trailed off as she rolled the caramel around in her mouth for a moment. It was slowly whittling itself down against her tongue, the sugary sweetness dissolving.

"So I guess you'll have to come by and let me cook for you again, won't I?" She said, resting her elbows on the counter with more thought behind it, chin resting in her palm as her eyes tracked Carina Templeton with intense thought. 

"You are *Not* Getting rid of me now," She told her, voice playing on both seriousness and humor. "Not after being away for so long." Dimitra's hand shot out and caught her wrist, thumb on her pulse as she leaned more on the counter. Her wild curls framed her face, open and honest as her voice dropped to a murmur. "You're stuck with me, whether you like it or not, Carina Templeton," A smile graced her face and she winked, as if she wasn't about as close to her as she'd been that December night. 

Dimitra might have a lover, but she couldn't begin to say that her feelings for Carina had ever faded. Perhaps that made her terrible, but she thought that made her terribly human. Her hand let go of her wrist after a moment and she sighed a little, popping a stolen licorice in her mouth with a subtle smugness.
Lynda
Carina hadn't realized how she'd already begun to grieve the distance opening between herself and Dimitra until it snapped shut again. Her eyes flashed to her friend's as she extended the tentative invitation, and Carina couldn't help but beam like a pleased child. 

They were so close. Their faces were so... Close. This was so familiar. Carina's heart stuttered as Dimitra held her by the wrist, her breath caught. Her gaze unwillingly flickered down to Dimitra's mouth and back up into her dark lashes. *And a wink?* Carina didn't know what hit her. 

"Good." She proclaimed, after clearing her throat quietly, pretending she couldn't feel the wild blush that was warming her cheeks. She straightened her skirt, which was already straight, and tidied the counter, which was already tidy.

"I'm pleased to be stuck," She gave a sharp nod down to the cash register before looking up in time to see Dimitra consume more of her stolen bounty. 

"...As long as *You* Can shell out the decency to celebrate your thievery *Outside* My shop!" Carina began the tirade with a tight brow, but ended it in laughter, wildly batting her friend with the feather duster she'd produced from under the counter. 
"Riff raff!" She clucked, too giddy to be self conscious of the atrocious giggle that chimed from her lips.
Michael
Maybe it was selfish, but Dimitra liked to see the blooming blush on Carina's cheeks. It was pretty, all rosy on her pretty face, and Dimitra was pleased to see it was all her doing. She openly admired her face as Carina seemed so intent on cleaning up the shop that was always impeccably clean. 

The feather duster was a weapon, and Dimitra squealed when Carina wielded it against her. "Never! When have you ever known me to be decent?" She barked out a laugh and boosted herself up, butt planted firmly on the counter as she swung her legs over it and landed firmly on the same side as her companion. 

She could've walked around, but maybe she liked showing off. She reached for the feather duster, trying to wrestle it from her grasp, and Carina's giggle was just about enough to make her heart melt a little. She knew if she pointed it out, her friend would become embarrassed and try and clam it up. So she kept quiet; she would rather save it all for herself. 

"You're the one who allows riff raff in your store!" She pointed out, giggling as she tried to grab that feathered weapon from her hands still. "And it's not my fault that your candy is so good!" She winked at her before she was darting to one of the jars and taking two more pieces with a wink.
Lynda
So. This was being alive. *This* Was it. The rush of blood to Carina's cheeks spelled it out plainly, that this was the pinnacle of human design: the unbridled joy of wrestling a dear friend over a feather duster while the misfortune of the world gnashed at the gates just beyond their happy scene. 

Carina would remember that day with unspeakable fondness as the day she understood why someone would climb into a river in all their clothes. She understood the thrill of stolen candy, and of good rum stashed away on the kitchen shelf. She understood what put the curls in Dimitra Florakis' hair, and what that wonderful woman kept tied up in the knot of her headscarves. She understood how lucky she was to be sharing in it, for these fleeting moments. 

With her fingers around Dimitra's wrist, deep as it was in the licorice jar, Carina froze to hear the squeal of an automobile's handbrake. The weekly shipment was here. Suddenly, gravity rushed in to swallow their happy girlish moment. They were standing in the Bigby Family General Store in Briar Ridge, Virginia. There was a grocery delivery out back that needed to be paid and unloaded, and Carina was the person who needed to do it. The sigh that pushed its way from her chest was more of a groan, and she rolled her eyes to the ceiling and back down at Dimitra. 

"That's the delivery man." She said, narrowing her eyes at the candy thief in her clutches, "I'm going to go pay him, and help him unload his truck, and by the time I come back, two things should be true." Her eyes flickered between Dimitra's, a wry smile curling up her lips. 
"One, I should have exactly as much candy in these jars as I see right now. And two, you should be out of my sight, Dimitra Florakis, lest I call the sheriff on your sticky fingers." She couldn't help but grin, extracting herself from the tangle of their limbs. 

"Begone, riff raff! And don't come back unless you've cooked me dinner!" 
_ _