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And that would be a terrible shame.

Such is the fate of a cheesecakeless life. I ordered one earlier but then I lost track of time and got off work late and the bakery is now closed so I have to wait until tomorrow. This has been the most trying of days.

It sounds like it, aye. Would coffee suffice, then?

I suppose it could do if I had some decent company to drink it with.

Oh, she supposes. [ He lifts a slight smile and turns -- cafe's not too far down the road. It's a nice evening and there's a space outside to sit. ]

I'll keep my eye out for decent men, until then I'm afraid it's just me.

[She grins as she follows, giving his arm a light squeeze.] I think you'll do. Hello, by the way. How was your day? Better than mine, I hope.

'Ello to you. [ He smiles, and opens the door for her. ] About to leave town, actually. Just for the weekend. But I've a moment or two.

Oh. For work? [She steps inside, heading for the counter.] Glad you caught me then.

Chocolate or blueberry?

Blueberry, please. You're a lifesaver.

I'm a baker is all.

Bakers save lives. How much do I owe you?

Have the first one free. If you like it, you'll come back for more.

That's certainly an attractive policy. I'm sure I'll be back even if I hate it because I'd want to stop by to say hi.

How are you, my dear?

Much better now that I have my cheesecake. I'll try not to eat the entire thing in one sitting. And you?

I've been better, to be honest.

Have you? What's wrong?

My one girlfriend is being dumped on my friends, because I'm dumb enough to seek advice from people when she's upset with me after I do dumb shit. My other girlfriend feels invisible, and suspects people ignore that she's in a relationship with us either because she's Chinese-American, or because she's trans.

One of my good friends tried to kill himself shortly after I last saw him, friends keep wanting to sex me up and I'm bad at saying 'how about no?' and we've gone through two coffee tables this month.

On the up side, my son can crawl now.

Awe, well sort of. [ He orders after her and covers their bill, clasping his own drink in hand. ] A old school mate of mine lives in Washington. He'd like my opinion on a patient. Says I'd be best in person.

What made your day so droll?

Is the patient doing badly? [She takes her drink and goes back to the outdoor sitting area.] That's nice of you to go for a friend.

Oh, nothing, really. Just the cheesecake thing. And my boss is planning an event for some fragrance that's being released by a company that endorses us, so that means overtime for me. Honestly, it doesn't even smell great. [She takes a sip and sits back, resting her hand against her cheek.] The party will be fabulous, though.

[She's speechless for a moment, trying to process all the information he's just given her. She clears her throat and attempts to start at the beginning.]

Well... whoever's dumping on your girlfriend doesn't seem like the type of person you need in your life anyway. And, um, about your other girlfriend... I think you should just talk to her. Her race and her... being trans... they're probably sensitive issues to her. She might feel inferior in a lot of ways so... let her know she's not.

I'm sorry about your friend. He probably needs professional help if he's suicidal. I'm not really sure how to help with the people wanting to sleep with you problem... I suppose you just need to practice saying no. And maybe bolt the tables to the floor?

You have a son. [She's still trying to process.] Congratulations to him on his crawling.

...yeah, sorry for dumping on you, there. I need to learn better social filters.

Aeron's tough. These are old issues. But it doesn't help that if we show up in the tabloids, she only appears if it's about her biological sex. Whenever it happens I want to bring her the heart of the guy who wrote the headline. I dunno. People sure are dumb.

It's a stupid fucking problem, and it always sounds like bragging. But it's difficult. I'm... not very good at social interaction, I'm afraid, and I'm also not very good at sexual things. ...not acts, the other stuff.

The tables can be replaced. We break a lot of stuff in our house.

[He cheers right up.] Yeah! His name's Carl. [He points to the wall of the bakery by the cash register, where a framed photo is hung.] That's him and his mom.

Why are the tabloids even talking about her? [It's a horrifying thought to her, to have her personal business displayed for everyone to see.] I'd want to kill the guy, too.

[She pauses, then gives a tiny smile.] That's an interesting problem to have. And I think you're not so bad with social interaction. You've been very nice to me.

[She looks at the picture, her expression growing a little wistful.] He's beautiful. So is she.

Our girlfriend is famous. And I guess I am a bit, too, now.

I can manage nice, which is kinda amazing in itself. But I have no experience, really, except what I've learned in the past year or two.

[He beams.] Thank you. That's Jen. And that's like... the only picture of Carl smiling. He's grumpy faced.