Olivia groaned and rolled over. Josh got up to make coffee. When it was ready, he waved a mug under her nose and then withdrew it until she sat up and scooted up to the headboard.

“Who’s going to get you out of bed when you’re on assignment, Detective?” said Josh.

Olivia moaned. “Don’t call me that. Not here. Not after…” She slurped coffee, wrapped the other arm around herself, and sulked. “I mean, there are women detectives, in my department even. But I’m not one of them. And this place, this relationship, here with you, is all about trading places, enjoying each other’s…”

“Things,” said Josh. He gathered some of Friday night’s clothing from the floor and put it in the laundry basket.

“Nicely put,” said Olivia.

~

Joey woke up in the morning, and after a few moments of confusion, trudged to the kitchen in search of tea. While the kettle warmed, a detour to the bathroom mirror to put hair into some kind of order. The cup overflowed, thankfully right next to the kitchen sink, because Joey’s nose was pointed at a phone with a picture Eck had gotten some passerby to take, and then shared.

Mopping up tea with a dreamy smile, Joey landed in the usual spot for catching up with the internet, a few wits, and matching them to each other.

~

“Mrgph,” said Ann, or words to that effect. “I should not stay up past midnight even on a Friday night, even for a friend in need of a good talking to.”

“More listening to,” said Eck. “I’d make you some coffee but I’m not checked out on the apparatus. I can’t believe all the men and, uh, quasi- chipped in for an espresso machine for you.”

“I guess they’re grateful I’ve talked most of them off the ledge,” said Ann. “Gimme a sec to… figure out who I am today.”

Eck sat quietly in her kitchen. In a few moments, Ann grumbled out of the bathroom. “Garbage in, garbage out,” she said, running a hand through her hair.

“You were not garbage before,” said Eck. “You are not garbage now.”

Ann’s hand came to rest, fingers deep, in the hair on the back of her head, momentarily exposing both eyes. “Flatterer,” she said. “The input was a mess, the output is a mess.” But she managed to see around the mop in her face long enough to make two tiny cups of espresso.

“Thanks,” said Eck, staring out the window. “It seems a bit crowded for this time of day.”

“My apartment? Not so very,” said Ann. “It’s Saturday!”

“The street. Is there some kind of parade today?”

“What time of day is it anyway?” said Ann. “Erk. Ten already. I was gonna…”

“Ooo, huh,” said Eck. “People out in rainbow shirts and stuff.”

“Your timing is impeccable,” said Ann, elbow in Eck’s ribs. “Coming out on the eve of the pride parade.”

“I guess,” said Eck. “Hold that so I don’t spill it. I have the shakes again.”

“We talked all through that last night,” said Ann. “And besides… if your self-image needs some het credentials for the festival,” she said, waving a hand at the crowd in the park opposite, “I seem to recall certain… activities…”

“And I guess I’m still confused this morning,” said Eck. “I mean, thanks for the talk and the, um…”

“Body contact,” said Ann. “Sometimes you just need a hug or whatever.”

“Or whatever,” said Eck. “Somehow this morning? If I thought my life was complicated before, there’s a whole new dimension or two of complexity out there.”

“In every color of the rainbow, plus various stripes of the ultraviolet and infrared,” said Ann, waving at the festival again. “More espresso?”

“I mean, how’s this end?” said Eck, handing over the cup.

“I can’t wait to find out. It’s exciting, don’t you think?” said Ann.

“Terrifying. In at least four different ways I can think of on one cuppa.”

“People survive,” said Ann. “So I guess the terror goes away. And for whatever it’s worth? The straight guys we know also have identity crises.”

“Which would be why we’re drinking the high-test instead of drip coffee,” said Eck.