“Judy.”

“Hmph.”

A gentle clawed paw on her shoulder. “Judy. Wake up.”

“Mm-mm.”

Deep chuckle. “You’ve slept far too long. You’ll miss your date.”

“My date?” Jude sat up on her bed, stretching. She felt a bit out of sorts. “What date?”

Reuben’s tufted ears flicked. He plucked her wrinkled wimple from her head, folding it neatly on the bedside table. “I believe your friend Frank is expecting you to call him?”

“Oh!” Her hand covered her mouth. “What...what time is it?”

“Nearly five.” The giant squirrel was rifling through her wardrobe. “You were so very tired, I let you sleep straight through the night last night. You had an exhausting week.”

“Straight through the night?!” Jude stood now, shocked. Flustered. “But I was supposed to see the garden with the Monsignor!”

“I’m certain he understands.” Reuben held up a dress before himself. “Red? You always look so becoming in red. And I like the twirl in this skirt.”

“But who will watch ovah Briarcliff?” She held the dress uncertainly. “I can’t go on unplanned excursions.”

“Judy. You really must take some time to yourself, my dear.” Reuben took hold of her shoulders. “I shall watch over the asylum in your absence. I believe everything here is under control. Why don’t you have a nice relaxing bath? Curl your hair.” He twirled a tangled lock around a fuzzy knuckle. “You’ll feel better.”

“I think I’m maybe just a little hungry.” She rubbed at her head.

“I believe Frank said something about steak?”

Suddenly, she salivated. Yes, she was definitely hungry. And steak sounded delightful. And honestly - Frank sounded delightful, too. “Yes,” she murmured, making her way to the en suite. “He did say something about steak…”

“Why don’t I call him while you bathe?”

“Oh, Reuben.” Jude turned in the bathroom door. “Yar so good to me.”

“Well.” A squirrel shrug. “You always cared for me. I suppose it’s only natural I should seek to return the favor? Now.” He nudged her into the bathroom. “Wash up, my girl, while I call your dashing fellow.”

Jude grinned like a schoolgirl. She hummed while she bathed. Shaved her legs (not that she expected anything salacious to happen...although maybe she hoped). She preened before the mirror. She primped. Pin curls in a loose chignon. Sheer stockings. Her laciest undies.

At her chest of drawers, she paused, chewing at her lip. Her fingers stroked the escaped strip of sanguine slip, considering. On a whim, she whipped it from the drawer. The dress was a button up in soft cotton. She left the collar open a hint - just a hint - and took a twirl in front of the mirror. She opted for black heels with a slim strap around each ankle. They elongated her legs nicely - not that the really needed to be any longer. But it felt nice to feel sexy.

“Am I right?” Reuben was leaning in her bedroom door. “The loveliest lady I’ve ever seen.”

“Reuben!” She laughed as he spun her beneath his arm.

“Your paramore awaits you downstairs, I believe.”

“Already?” A sudden case of nerves. She gripped clawed hands. “I shouldn’t do this.”

“Are you so afraid of being happy, Judy?” At her blink, Reuben pulled her into a quick, hard hug. “Go, my dear. Leave this misery behind for one night and remember you are alive.”

She was a fast click down the stairs, black clutch beneath her arm. And Reuben was right; Briarcliff seemed quiet this evening. She felt confident leaving it in Reuben Stein’s capable hands. Well...paws. And when she saw Frank waiting at the bottom of the Stairway to Heaven, all of her concerns evaporated.

Freshly shaven, steely hair newly trimmed, a handsome smile in place, he gave her an openly appreciative once-over and whistled. “Damn, sistah. Turn heads much?”

Shyly, she slow turned on the lowest step. “Not too much.”

“Well, ya sure as hell do tanight.” He reached for her hand, curled it over his forearm. He wore a soft cotton oxford, sleeves rolled to the elbow, and his skin was warm beneath her fingers.

“You look particularly handsome,” she whispered.

“Thanks!” He ushered her out the door. “You just don’t see me out of uniform.”

“I dunno.” Down the steps she clicked, hand still gripping his arm. “I think yar pretty handsome in uniform, too.”

“Keep talkin’ like that, Jude, and ya just might get lucky tonight.” He threw her a wink at the door of his dark blue ‘57 Chevy.

“Is that a promise?” She asked, lingering in the opened door. How long since she’d flirted?

His jaw tightened with the arm that trapped her between himself and the truck’s seat. “Jude…”

“Judy.” She boosted a hip onto the leather, leaned into his space. “Please.”

“Judy,” he repeated lowly, leaned into her space.

An inch from her lips, her fingers stopped his mouth. “It’s been a while far me, Frank. But I believe kisses still come after the date?”

“We’ve kissed once before,” he murmured against her fingers.

“But we weren’t on a date.”

He pulled away, grinning. “Date. Right. Let’s go, then.” He closed her door, seeing her settled in the passenger seat safely. Behind the wheel, he glanced at her before starting the engine. “Hope ya like movies.”

“I love movies.” And she did. She’d always loved the silver screen: the fantasy, the romance, the drama. Elaborate costumes and glamorous stars. She was trying to recall the last secular movie she’d watched. When was that? ‘49? ‘50? Before the Convent…

“What’s yer favorite?” Frank asked, driving through Briarcliff’s imposing gates. The radio serenaded their drive, a low hum in the background.

I've got your picture
That you gave to me
And it's signed with love
Just like it used to be
The only thing different
The only thing new
I've got your picture
She's got you

“Um...I was just tryin’ ta remember the last one I saw, actually.” A little embarrassing. “I think it was...Beyond the Forest? Or was it Bride for Sale?”

“Oh, Betty Grable!” Frank shook his head. “She’s somethin’ else, I tell ya.”

“Yeah?” Jude gave him a playful scowl, turning to face him in her seat. “Is she now?”

Frank chuckled, signalling to turn onto the highway. “I used ta think so. But I’m startin’ ta believe you could give her a run for her money anyday, Judy.”

I've got the records
That we used to share
And they still sound the same
As when you were here
The only thing different
The only thing new
I've got the records
She's got you

“Aw, Frank.” She blushed, then suddenly shouted: “Flamingo Road!” He startled at her exclamation. “That’s the last movie I saw. With Joan Crawford.”

“Really?” At a stop sign, Frank turned to her. “Ya like Joan Crawford?”

I've got your memory
Or, has it got me
I really don't know
But I know, it won't let me be

Jude shrugged. “Always thought she was a good actress. Why? You think she was somethin’ else, too?” She poked his rib.

“Ah-ah!” He swatted her hand. “As a matter of fact, she’s in one of the movies playin’ at the Odeon tanight. Whatever Happened to Baby Jane. Got Bette Davis, too. Looks um...interesting.”

“Well. I like both of them, so that sounds like a winnah ta me.”

“According to all the newspapers right now, they’re having some kinda big feud in Hollywood.”

Jude shrugged. “Probly somethin’ cooked up ta sell movies.”

“Yeah. Hollywood seems like it can be pretty fucked up sometimes.”

I've got your class ring
That proved you cared
And it still looks the same
As when you gave it, dear
The only thing different
The only thing new
I've got these little things
She's got you

Downtown Boston was Saturday night busy. They managed to find a parking spot behind the theatre just in time for it to fill up. And Frank was quite obviously pleased to have Jude on his arm. As he’d predicted, she did turn some heads. “We make a good lookin’ couple,” she told him in the concession line.

“I think it’s just you, doll.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her in from a group of children who ran by. “Popcorn?” She nodded, throat (and other anatomy) tightened by his embrace. Her mouth had been watering for popcorn since they’d entered the theatre. The smell of it filled the entire lobby.

On their way into the darkened theatre, Frank started to pull away. Jude took hold of his arm, keeping it wrapped around her waist. She enjoyed his deep blush and pleased smile. They sank into plush velvet seats, settling popcorn bucket and cold pops. During the cartoon, Jude leaned close to his ear. “Thanks far takin’ me out, Frank. This is perfect.”

“Already perfect?” He asked. His breath tickled her ear. “The movie hasn’t even started. What if it’s a real stink bomb?”

In the flickering light, Jude met his darkened eyes. “It doesn’t mattah.” She kissed his cheek lightly and settled her head on his shoulder, missed the moisture that gathered in his eyes.

But the movie was fantastic. Jude was captivated, hung on every word. Bette Davis’ batshit performance as an unhinged adult child star was the perfect foil to smooth-toned Joan Crawford as the beautiful debilitated starlet sister. Frank watched the whole movie with his mouth hanging open, clearly stymied by the unique and unexpected storyline. Their buttery fingers occasionally brushed in the popcorn bucket, slick digits moving against one another and she couldn’t help imagining his buttery lips on hers just that slick, or their bodies buttered by sweat mingling the way their fingers did - wrapped in crisp, clean sheets, the coolness a stark contrast to the burn of every hot thrust in her swollen cunt and his strong hands gripping her hips as -

“Judy? You comin’?”

“Yes!” The popcorn bucket toppled when she shouted, slapping her hand over her unthinking mouth. She looked up to see Frank’s arm extended. Crowds milled around them and the credits rolled on. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Ya okay?” He took her arm again, pressing close as they herded through the thick crowd.

“I’m fine.” She fanned herself a little, suddenly sweltering.

“Let’s get ya some air.” Frank steered her outside, hand slipping a little lower on her hip. “Bettah?” He asked her.

“Yeah. Yeah, Frank. I’m fine.” What would he think of her if he knew? If he knew that pious and devoted Sister Jude the Disciplinarian Nun who knelt before God and her Monsignor was really  raunchy and lustful Judy Martin the ex-whore who would gladly kneel before Frank and take his hard cock in her mouth and swallow his thick spendings like communion wine.

“Well, I hope ya didn’t fill up on popcorn, beautiful.” He helped her into the truck. “Cuz I got two thick ribeyes at the house just waitin’ ta sizzle up.”

Her stomach growled. “That sounds wonderful, Frank.”

Frank’s house was far from what she expected. Not a tiny bachelor’s apartment, but a well-groomed craftsman with gardenias out front lining a white picket fence. “Frank.” She took in her surroundings as he led her up the front steps. “This is a beautiful place you have.” There was a time - long ago, it seemed - when this very house would have been her dream house, complete with husband and 2.5 kids and family dog.

“Ya like it?” He unlocked the door. “Thanks, Judy. It was my folks’ place. After they died, I felt like I oughta keep it up, ya know?” It was clean. Very clean. And neat. If she hadn’t known already from his file, she would have guessed his military background from his housekeeping. Simple. Lamps where lamps were needed. Dark wood floors worn but polished. Walls painted plainly in a tasteful dusty blue. Side tables clear of clutter. A cutaway from the den revealed a pristine, steel kitchen. Maybe it needed a woman’s touch here and there, but she felt incredibly selfish and a little surprised thinking such a thing. “Have ya a seat. I’m gonna get these steaks started. How about a baked potato?”

Instead of sitting on the plaid couch he’d offered, she followed him, leaning in the kitchen doorway. “I can’t believe yar cookin’ far me.”

“You cook for me enough, dontcha?” There was a little grey melamine Zenith on the counter by the fridge. He flicked it on while foil-wrapping two potatoes, seemed comfortable before his gas range. “I think it’s about time I paid ya back.” Pulled steaks from the sleek refrigerator.

Break it to me gently, let me down that easy way
Make me feel you still love me if it's just, just for one more day
Break it to me gently so my tears, my tears won't fall too fast
If you must go, then go slowly, let me love you 'till then

“I don’t know too many men who can cook.” She sat at the little formica table, touched a daisy in the vase there. Bobbed along to Brenda Lee.

“I’m a bachelor. What can I say?” He shrugged. “If I don’t do it, who will? Wanna drink? I mean, I know yer a nun and all, so if you don’t -”

“Ya said somethin’ about a nice bourbon, I believe?”

The love we've shared oh so long, it's a tender part of me
If you must take your love away, take it gradually

He pulled a dusty bottle from a cupboard over the sink. “I uh - only pull this one out fer special occasions.” He poured a finger of rich, brown liquid into two tumblers and handed her one. Straddled the chair across from her as they sipped slowly, relishing the heat and oaky flavor. “By the way…” He toyed with the rim of his glass, looking down. “I cook up a mean breakfast, too. Just sayin’.”

And break it to me gently, give me time, oh give me a little time to ease the pain
If you must go, then go slowly, 'cause I'll never love again

“Frank.” She stilled his hand on his glass with her own. “I’ll cook the breakfast.” Tried a seductive smile. “I don’t mind...reciprocating.”

He swallowed hard. “Christ, Judy.”

She chuckled. “Got an ashtray?”

I got to feelin' I'm a'fallin'
Like a star up in the blue,
Like I was fallin' off Niagara
In a paddle-boat canoe

They moved to the back porch. Brought the Zenith. Smoked and drank on a hanging swing, Jude swaying them a bit with her heels on the concrete. The moon was full, and away from the city lights, stars glimmered brightly. Fireflies occasionally lit the wafting jasmine on his back ence. Perfect. “Why didn’t ya evah get married?” She asked.

“Nevah found the right lady.”

“I can’t believe that.” She stretched her legs across his lap, settling a brown cushion behind her back. “Any woman would be lucky ta have a good man like you.”

I got to feelin' I'm a'fallin'
And it's all because of you
Like I was walkin' on a tightrope,
Swingin' in the breeze,
And though I try to keep my balance
Yeah I weaken in the knees

He looked slightly torn. Thinking about stroking her legs. Thinking about trying his best to ignore them. She could tell he was struggling with his morals, but she longed for him to touch them. “I dunno about that.” He drained his bourbon. “Seems like most of the ladies I’ve known aren’t lookin’ fer a good guy. Does that make sense?”

Jude sighed. “No, it doesn’t make sense. But I know what yar sayin’. I’ve seen it.” He finally rested a cool hand on her ankle, index finger toying with the strap. She could have purred like a kitten.

I got to feelin' I'm a'fallin'
Lover, help me please
Like a leaf falls from a branch,
Like a rock-slide avalanche,
Like the rain on a stormy day,
I never thought I'd fall this way
I thought that love could never touch me,
Yeah I was ridin' high
And then my ivory tower toppled
And I tumbled from the sky

“Guess I wasn’t rich enough. Or good lookin’ enough.” He smirked. “Good sense of humor doesn’t get ya as far as it once did, I reckon.” A deep breath. “I’ll tell ya this much. I nevah imagined havin’ a lady like you stretched out across my lap.”

“I nevah imagined a fella as nice as you wantin’ anything ta do with the likes of me.” She confessed. “I nevah exactly been a lady.”

“Yeah, you were. Ya just nevah had anybody treat ya like one.”

She chuffed lightly. “Yar right about that, Frank.”

“Can I ask ya a question, Judy?”

“Sure.” The bourbon was warming her nicely in the spring cool. Loosening her tongue.

“What the hell made a woman like you into a nun?”

“Mistakes.” Her eyes told his she didn’t want to say much more about it, and he respected them with a nod.

“Made a few of those, myself.” He cleared his throat. “Evah think about...leavin’ it?”

Complicated questions… She smiled softly, touched at her coif. “I’m a faithful woman, Frank. Ta God - in my own way. Ta the Church. My sistahs. Ta Briarcliff.”

“Ta the Monsignor?” He didn’t look at her. Still played with the strap on her shoe, traced the edge around her foot and toes.

“He has a strong belief in me. Far some damn reason.” She bit her lip, as much at the sensations his fingers were creating as at the subject matter they discussed. “I know ya don’t care fer him.”

“Understatement.”

“But I need ta see this thing through. Ta see Briarcliff flourish. I need ta...ta do something good in the world, Frank.”

He nodded, seeming to understand. “I think ya could do a hell of a lot more good than ya give yerself credit for, Judy. With or without Briarcliff. Here.” He tapped her foot, brought their heart to heart to a close. “Potatoes should be about ready. I’m gonna fry up our steaks.”

She was reluctant to let him go, despite her stomach’s now noisy requests for sustenance. And again, she followed him, grabbing the Zenith from the porch rail. “Need my help with anything?”

“I need you ta sit at that table and let me impress ya with my kitchen expertise.” He produced a meat fork and a spatula. “Unless you’d like ta pour up another finger of that bourbon fer us.”

She did so, sauntering his over to the stove where she perched against his sink. Steaks sizzled onto hot cast iron and she raised a brow. “I’m duly impressed.”

“Let’s just hope my marinade holds up to yar exacting standards. Cheers, Judy.” They clinked glasses while mouth-watering meat cooked.

He set the table. Poured her an iced tea. Tossed a green salad. Served her a hot plate. She smiled through all of it, the smile growing exponentially as he hummed along to the stereo.

I wish that we were married
So we'd never, never, never, never say "Goodbye"
I'm glad we're going steady
But I wish the time would fly

Finally, he sat, handed her a cloth napkin. “Bone appetite!” He toasted her with his tea, and their concentration turned to food.

I wish that we were married
And I know you wish it, too
'cause when I have to leave you
We both feel so lonely and blue (so blue)

“Mmmm.” Jude closed her eyes. “Frank. This steak is…” She breathed, thinking of the right word. “...fucking incredible.” It was all she could come up with.

He laughed. “I’m glad ya like it.” But the delight at pleasing her was evident on his features. He lit at her compliment, and the knowledge she’d pleased him somehow pleased her in return. Somewhere between the porch and the buttery baked potato, she’d realized how genuinely happy she was. And how long it had been since she’d felt that way.

“Reuben was right,” she murmured, not thinking.

Two kids can know what love is
They can cry all through the night
Yes, we know
We know how it feels to be lonely
To cry , cry , cry

“Right about what?” Frank asked.

She poked at a potato remnant. “I think...far a long time now, I’ve been scared ta be happy, Frank.”

“Now why is that?”

“I think I can’t fargive myself. Far a mistake I made a long time ago. A really terrible mistake.”

“That ya don’t wanna talk about.”

I know, I know we'd be so happy
If we never, never, never, never have to part
I wish that we were married
Yes, I wish it with all my heart

She gathered herself. Drank the last of her tea. Shook off the malaise. “No. I don’t wanna talk about anything from the past tonight. No more.”

“Good!” He slid back from the table. “Cuz I’ve got dessert.”

“Dessert?!” He couldn’t be serious. She was nearly stuffed from dinner. Pretty certain she wouldn’t have room for - “Oh.” He removed their plates to drop the cake center of the table. “Is that chocolate?”

“It is.” He rubbed the back of his neck before slicing it. “I have ta confess it came out of a box. I’m pants at baking.”

“But you baked it.” Her heart melted completely when he dropped the fork on the saucer before her.

“Ladies seem ta like chocolate.” He busied at the stove for a moment. “Coffee?” Poured from a silver percolator. Cream and sugar.

She was speechless. Something in her throat was heavy. She swallowed it. The coffee mug was comforting her cold fingers. “Thank you, Frank.”

“It’s a little dry.” He said, chewing cake.

“I don’t mean far the cake.”

“I know.”

Actually, the cake was delicious. Spongy and warm. His icing wasn’t too sweet or too thick. And the coffee was good. “Frank.”

“Yeah?”

“Ya might be the perfect man.”

He laughed deeply, richly. “Judy. I think it’s been waaay too long since you been on a date.”
She laughed, too, tucking a curl behind her ear. Frank broached the next subject politically. “I’ve uh - kept ya out real late.”

“Is it late?” She watched him over the rim of her cup. Knew it was late. Nearly midnight now.

“Very.”

“I see.” She set her cup aside. “I suppose the perfectly gentlemanly thing ta do would be ta take me back ta Briarcliff and walk me ta my door with a precious good night peck on the cheek.”

“If that’s what pleases you, Judy. I’ll -”

“Or,” she stressed, cutting him off. Lowered her voice about an octave. “You could be perfectly ungentlemanly. And offer to show me the bedroom.”

“Judy,” he rasped.

“Maybe you can find out what really pleases me.”

The window was cracked in his bedroom, gentle breeze nudging the embroidered curtains. His bed was crisply made, turned down on the corner, inviting. And he was nervous. “Judy. Don’t think ya have ta -”

“Help me?” She sat on the turned down duvet, offering him a foot.

His hands were shaking charmingly when he flicked open the strap. “I just don’t want ya to feel like ya owe me anything. I’m not that kinda man.” He took hold of her other foot, and she used it to pull him into her space.

“Frank.” Her fingers folded around his jaw, sliding to the back of his neck. “I want ya ta make love to me tonight.” A light, gentle kiss. “All night.” She deepened the kiss. “Then again befar breakfast.” He stepped between her legs, kissed her harder. “And after breakfast.” His lips traveled to her neck. The other shoe dropped.

They undressed quietly in the muted moonlight, rolling one another across the bed to remove every article of clothing until just their skin separated them one from the other - and that only barely. Her fingers wanted to memorize every muscular inch of him as his mouth wanted to memorize every inch of her. Every inch. Blissfully. She arched into his deliberate explorations, thrilling to the scrape of 5 o’clock shadow in her thighs. “Oh, Frank!” She bit her lip.

“So sweet, Jude,” he murmured, dipping again. “Bettah than my cake.”

“Ah! Stop!” It wasn’t that she didn’t want the pleasure he was confidently delivering. She just wanted more. Needed it. “Frank, please. I want you inside me!”

He complied, holding her head steady to keep eye contact. He needed to gauge her reactions, her desires. He was an attentive lover; sweet, gentle, and dedicated to her fulfilment. Magnanimous to Jude’s stubbornness. He felt so good - she never wanted to give up the moment. He pressed her. “Judy. Baby. I ain’t as young as I used ta be.”

“Just a little longer,” she whined. Her legs wrapped his waist.

“Nah nah nah.” He rolled them, putting her in control. “Do yer thing, baby. Make us both feel good togethah.”

She pulled him up until he sat, cradling her in his thighs and holding her to him tightly. She undulated against him, used him to their end, buried her face in his neck when the wave broke inside her, and felt him swept up in her tide. Their breathy gasps and moans answered the crickets and the nightbirds outside - made them a part of that animal kingdom.

And in the stillness of after - the kissing, caressing, cherishing moments - they found themselves softly laughing. “What?” Jude asked, smile beatific.

“Nothin’.” He pressed his forehead to hers.

“Somethin’.” She nudged his nose.

“I think…” He sighed, closing his earnest eyes. “I think I love ya, Judy.”

“Oh hell, Frank.” She took a deep breath and leaned backward in his embrace. “I’m bad at love.”

“Can’t blame me fer tryin’.”

“Fallin’ in love is...it’s a scary damn thing.”

“It ain’t fallin’ if ya got somebody there ta catch ya.”

“You’d catch me?” She rubbed his cheeks with her thumbs.

“I’d nevah let ya go.”

“Never?”

“Judy.” Suddenly serious, he rolled them into his pillows, still holding her. “Leave that shit hole. I mean in it.” When she rolled her eyes, he spoke over her beginning protestations. “Come on here and live with me. This house needs ya. I need ya.”

“Frank. We don’t need anybody.”

“Well, I want ya. How’s that. Forevah, Judy. Look at me.” She stared at his ceiling. “Look at me!” She finally did, eyes wet. “Listen.” He took her hand. “Fuckin’ marry me.”

“What?!” She scrambled onto her elbow, extracting herself sloppily from his arms. He grappled with her, attempting to hold her. “Frank! You’ve lost yer mind!”

“What are ya gonna do? Commit me? Would ya sit the fuck still fer a minute?”

She did. Sat up, sheet to her chest, a hand in her mussed hair. “Don’t talk crazy.”

“Is it so crazy? Yer miserable there. I’m miserable there.” He sat up, too. “I got a buddy who’s wanted me ta come work fer him fer years now. A supervisory position over a team of twenty-five good guys. Security at the military base. The pay is stellar, Judy. I’d really be able to support ya, ta -”

“Frank. If you’ve had this opportunity, why the hell are ya still at Briarcliff, anyway?”

He stared at her as if the answer should have been quite obvious. And perhaps it should have been. “Cuz of you, Judy. Why the hell else?”

“Me?” She clutched the sheet between her breasts, stopping her heart from hammering out of her chest. “Frank…”

“Don’t think fer a second I ain’t serious. I can have a ring tomorrow. We’ll go out togetha and pick exactly what ya want. Monday mornin’ we’ll get the papers and I don’t care after that, Judy.” He shrugged, grinning. “You want a big wedding? Big cake and rice and all that? You got it. We can - we can be engaged fer a while if ya want. It doesn’t mattah. We can have a honeymoon. I always said after the war that I’d go back ta Paris when I wasn’t bein’ shot at.” He chuckled. “You’d love Paris. We can -”

“Frank.” He hadn’t noticed she was crying. When he saw it, his shoulders fell.

“I guess it is crazy, huh?” He swallowed thickly, looking into his lap. Suddenly conscientious, he pulled the sheet over himself.

Jude sniffled. She reached for his hands, pulled them out of the way to snuggle into his lap. He folded her up. “Are you serious?”

“Hand ta God.”

She wiped her snotty face on the sheet. Murmured into his chest. “Then ask me properly, asshat!”

He took her shoulders, straightening her. She faced him, barely holding a grin behind a shaking hand.  “Judy…” He gestured, wanting.

“Martin,” she supplied.

He cleared his throat. “Judy Martin. Will you marry me? Ah!”

“Yes!” They nearly rolled off the bed when she tackled him.

In his bathtub, they lounged and Frank studied Jude’s fingers. “These’ll look pretty with a big ol’ diamond on ‘em.”

“Not too big,” she whispered.

“Big enough so that all the othah fellas know the business.”

She chuckled. The water sloshed when she turned against him. “So. Is your plan far us to charge into Briarcliff tomorrow, throw down our resignations, and dance out the front doors?”

“Somethin’ like that.” He stroked her shoulders, flicked a wet curl off her neck. “How um...how d’you think the Monsignor's gonna take it?”

She scowled at him. “Like you care.”

He grinned. “I care about how you are gonna take it. I know ya...ya have a relationship with him-”

“A professional relationship.”

“Of course! But I know he’s made ya a lot of promises.”

“I have ta choose a life I always wanted, Frank.”

“He can take ya ta Rome.”

“You can take me ta Paris.” She shrugged. “I have ta choose love, Frank. Cuz I always wanted it. I have ta choose happiness far once. Far always.”

“Love, Judy?” He poked her rib and she squirmed.

She stood. He watched her wrap a towel around herself. “Love, Frank.” She tugged his hand. “Come on back ta bed. I said all night.”

“We got a big day ahead of us,” he warned, slipping into her towel with her.

“We got a whole life ahead of us.”

When they (finally) slept that night - cocooned in each others’ arms as surely as they were in each others’ dreams - they slept a sleep of promise. A sleep of peace. Happiness. A sleep of love.

And Jude could have slept on that way forever...