It had taken both women several hours to clean up their dorm room, arranging everything in an order they could both live with. What they gave up in space they gained in comfort with their own bathroom, not big mind you, but private. While Sam was in the bathroom finishing with her shower, C.C. was lying in bed reading a book. Sam came out of the steam-filled room, her hair still damp from the shower and walked over to her bed where she sat down to brush her hair.

Lowering her book, C.C. glanced over it and noticed the t-shirt Sam had chosen to sleep in. The front of it proclaimed in bold letters, “The Family Tree Stops Here”. The young woman giggled then went back to reading while she offered a comment on the shirt. “Nice shirt. I should get it for my sister.”

A look of confusion came across Sam’s face at C.C.’s statement until she glanced down and saw which shirt she was wearing. Feeling the heat rise to her face, she wondered what the girl across the room must think of her now. She had just reached into her drawer and grabbed the first one. Okay… definitely need to start paying attention to my attire. “Um… why would you get her this shirt? You do know what it means, don’t you?”

“Of course I know what it means and she’s gay so, she’d love it. Where’d you get it? I could use it for her Christmas gift or something.”

Her answer was matter of fact and left Sam wondering exactly which sister she was referring to. Sam looked down at her shirt and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be so… ah… so… gay. I just grabbed the first shirt I saw. I guess I should really start paying attention.”

“No sweat. Don’t worry about it. Nothing I’m not used to. Actually, you’re pretty subtle about it.” C.C. looked up momentarily to address her roommate then went back to reading her book.

“You aren’t bothered sharing a room with me then?” Sam asked in disbelief.

“No way. I shared a house with my sister for damn near twenty years.”

“Well, if you haven’t been infected by now, I guess you’re safe.” Sam tried to make light of their conversation.

“Yeah, she told me there’s no recruiting involved so why should I care?” C.C. shrugged her shoulders as if this topic was one she was very comfortable with. “She told me that the Golden Toaster Oven was nothing more than a myth.”

“Golden Toaster Oven?” Sam didn’t quite understand what C.C. was talking about.

Hearing that, the tall brunette placed her book in her lap and sat up in bed as if in shock. “Oh, come on! You’re a lesbian and you don’t know about the Golden Toaster Oven?”

Sam shook her head in denial. “Nope, not a clue.”

Thinking about it for a moment, C.C. tried to remember it exactly as she had heard the tale. “Well, according to my sister, you receive the Golden Toaster Oven after,” the woman held up both hands and made quotation marks in the air, “recruiting a select number of straight women to the joys of lesbianism.” She finished with her hands reaching up to the ceiling as if preaching to an entire congregation. “Or, something like that. Apparently, it’s even hand delivered to your home by Melissa Etheridge.” The woman giggled and then noticed her friend’s somber mood.

“Sorry, I must have been absent the day they gave out the manuals. Or maybe that was the day my mother grounded me for coming out.”

C.C. knew a nerve had been struck and placed a bookmark in her paperback before resting it on the nightstand. “Ooh, that bad?”

“Well, it wasn’t pretty.” Sam ran a hand through her damp locks. “That’s why I’ve been living with my aunt for the last year or so. I decided that it was time for me to be on my own and now, I’m here in the dorm this year.”

The brunette reached across the small space between their beds and placed a hand against her friend’s arm in sympathy. “Ouch, sorry, Sam. Well, you’ll have no such worries around the Gordon household. They’ll welcome you with open arms,” she laughed, “and ears.”

Sam looked up confused. “Ears? Why ears?”

Rolling her eyes, C.C. thought about the nosey nature of some of her family members. “Oh yeah, ears too. They’ll listen for any little tidbit to remind you about and then rag you with it at a later date. That goes for the eyes as well. We’re exactly like the people in the commercial for the Olive Garden Restaurant. When you’re there, you’re family, as soon as you walk in the door.”

The blonde smiled at C.C.’s ramblings and after a few seconds, both roomies were left feeling better.

Sam laughed. “Okay, I get the picture. Now, if I could just get the girl… any girl…”

“You, my dear, they will absolutely adore!” The roommate looked at the small woman in the next bed, her head tilting from one side to the other. “Hmm… and we’ll just have to see what we can do about getting you that girl as well.” C.C. delivered the last of her statement with a wink of an eye as she took a sip from the water glass on the nightstand next to her bed.

Sam thought about it briefly. “Well, as long as you’re filling out my request card, can you make it on the order of… oh, I don’t know…” The young woman thought for a moment. “I’ve always had a thing for drummers. How about Loran from Anti-Zero?”

Water suddenly came spewing back into the glass as C.C. choked briefly at the request. “Loran? You mean as in Brooke Loran?”

Not noticing her friend’s distress, the dreamy eyed blonde gazed thoughtfully into space as she conjured up the image of the female drummer: short dark hair, sunglasses hiding a well chiseled face, on an incredibly tall frame that oozed nothing but strength and power. “Yeah, she’s an oldie but I’d bet anything she’s a goodie.”

“Ahh, yes… that was the drummer’s name, wasn’t it?” C.C. covered her slip, thankful that her friend hadn’t noticed. Then again, by the look on her face, she probably wouldn’t notice a Mack truck if it were to hit her right now.

The small woman nodded her head in agreement as she got under the covers, thinking about the wonder that was Brooke Loran. Now that woman, by far, was the biggest crush she had ever had on anyone, not to mention the longest. With the thought of the wild drummer beating out a rhythm in her head, Sam was sure that she would have some sweet dreams tonight. “Yeah, and what a beat that girl could keep up. Why, she makes my heart race just thinking about her.”

The last thing that C.C. saw was the dreamy expression on her new friend’s face as Sam reached up and turned out her light. Smiling at her roommate’s expression, C.C. followed her lead and reached for her own small light source next to her bed.

“Good night, C.C. Sweet dreams.” Sam said as she curled up on her side and waited for Morpheus’ hold to claim her.

“Good night, Sam.” The brunette turned over and wrapped one arm around her pillow as she thought about her sister. Ooh, Brooke… we need to have a talk!

The tall, dark haired woman sat at her desk. She was facing the window, staring out at her view of the ocean. The rolling waves always acted as a source to soothe and calm her when her mind was troubled. Her thoughts drifted back to earlier in the day when an ex-band mate of hers had called, asking if she was available to produce his new project. She hadn’t spoken to James since the band broke up three years earlier, which had seriously bothered her. They had been best friends and with a few cross words one night after a show, they had lost each other.

Her mind drifted out of the distant past, letting her once again think of what James had told her earlier in that phone conversation; he wanted the best, and knew that it was her. She had ended their conversation by telling him she would think about it and give him a call in the next week or so. Her mind still mulled the conversation over even now, hours later. It was something that she was going to have to think long and hard about before getting back to him.

The insistent ringing of the telephone slowly pulled the woman from her musings. She picked up the handset, placing it next to her ear, and spoke in her most business-like voice. “Brownstone Records. Brooke Gordon speaking…”

“You know, you have got to get a secretary. I could be any whacko trying to find you.” The voice on the other end spoke with familiarity.

Brooke smiled at the teasing banter of her youngest sister. “Well, thank God the only whacko who can find me is my kid sister. What’s up, C.C.?” The executive said as she wondered what her sister needed now.

“Not much. I called your house and didn’t get an answer so I took a chance that you were at the studio. You okay? You sound kind of out of it.”

“Yeah, I’m fine, nothing major. I’ll tell you all about it later. So, is there a reasonfor you calling me or what?” Brooke could already tell by the tone of C.C.’s voice that the younger girl was up to something.

“Well, I was just wondering…”

“Yeah, wondering what?” Brooke shuffled through some papers piled on her desk, pulling out one or two and shoving the rest back.

“Well, you see I met this girl and…”

“No, C.C.” Brooke cut her off in mid sentence as she threw the papers down onto the desktop, to make her point more emphatically.

“But, Brooke, she’s really cool.” Then C.C. added in a whisper, “And I know that this one’s gay.”

Brooke rolled her eyes as she leaned forward with the start of her rebuttal. “C.C., I am not going to take out every gay woman… or girl… that you meet. You tried to set me up once and we both know what happened with that one. Just because your friend is gay, does not mean that I’d like her or get along with her.” Brooke sat back in her chair, trying to calm down, positive that she had made her point clear.