A/N at the end

Machine's made an awful lot of noise. Andy came to that conclusion after two full days of lying in a hospital. The heart monitor sounded like her alarm in the morning, only she wasn't able to shut it off, and the oxygen pump made her feel like she was in a post apocalyptic movie where everyone had to wear gasmasks in order to survive. Which was kind of her situation now. Just without the heroic actions, or the happy ever after.

Dying, she thought, required some tolerance.

'Door to door beauty service has arrived.' The melody of Doug's voice sounded optimistic when entering the room.

'I'm sorry, but that's not needed. I'm on top of my beauty.' Andy waved her hand lamely.

'That is true my dear.' He walked over to her bedside. 'That is true.' He repeated and kissed her on her forehead. 'How are you feeling today?'

'On a scale from one to death?' She mocked. But she saw the glimmer in Doug's eyes. They joked about her situation, but the line between laughter and crying was always very thin.

'On a scale from one to I love you.'

'Ahhw, I love you too Dougie.' She grinned. 'And I decided to express that through the saving of my vanilla pudding.' She pulled a small cup of pudding from underneath her cushion. Although she didn't eat any hospital food - her nutrition had come in fluid form since she was hospitalized- the nurses were fond of both Andy and her best friend who had stayed by her day and night so they saved a cup of his favourite desert for him every time.

Doug grabbed the chair next to Andy's bed and slumped down in it with a satisfied groan. 'Such a good thing to finally sit. Send your parents home did ya?' He opened the lid of the cup and started to eat enthusiastically. They all took shifts sitting around Andy's bed since they heard the news. Him, Lilly, and Andy's parents, but in reality everyone was living in Andy's hospital room. Sleeping next to her, whether it was in a spare hospital bed or on the ground. This was the first time in three days that her parents went to Andy's apartment to change and nap.

Andy smiled at the display of her eating best-friend. 'Just for a few hours of sleep and to do some laundry. Mom refused at first. Luckily she listened to me and dad combined. Well, mostly dad because my voice was nowhere to be found this afternoon.' A frustrated sigh accompanied a deep frown. Always having been the chatty person, getting lung cancer was a real karma bitch. Doug did not respond with 'Well you can barely hear it now too, probably because there is a breathing-tube down your throat.' Instead he smiled and said 'that's a wise decision.'

After three months being a journalist for the Mirror Andy started to feel a tightness around her chest and a little shortness on breath. She didn't pay any attention to it. Must be the transfer to the Mirror and the stress of a new job. What's new under the sun. Just some extra vitamins and it would be over in a week. However, over the last three months it gradually became heavier until she had this odd metallic rattle when she breathed or tried to talk. Doug had told her she had hairballs. She laughed until she had to rush to the ER three days ago because she could not breathe without tears from pain leaking onto her cheeks.
An X-ray an blood tests confirmed the nightmare. Bilateral inoperable carcinoma of the lungs, that spread into her chest. Bye bye future. Hello Hospital bed and an awful lot of morphine. Which was real good stuff by the way. The doctors and nurses admired her pain resistance, but she had expected worse. And even though she was dying, she was determined on going with a smile, much like she always lived.

'Your parents be back soon though. Probably with more flowers.'

'Please no more flowers,' she groaned. Andy's kind nature had resulted in at least a couple of hundred dollars worth in flowers in her room. Word that she was lying in the hospital spread like the wind, but she had been reserved about telling her diagnosis. Which resulted in an awful lot of 'get-well-soon' cards accompanied with tons of flowers. Together with Lills she had made an 'Ironic' wall at the side of her room, agreeing that even half-truths were better than the awful yellow wallpaper underneath it.

'He, Andygirl, I got something for you too.' Doug wiggled his eyebrows in an attempt to create some mystery. 'On my way from home to here I walked by this company, you know, real ugly logo, ultimate capitalist, profit-based, famous multinational, hipster-like, -'

'You didn't!' Her eyes started to glimmer. Doug laughed.

'I did.' He opened his bag, and swiftly pulled out a thermos filled with one no-foam skimmed latte with an extra shot from Starbucks. 'They didn't sell it in IV-bag size so I took the regular one. Be aware, it can be a little hot. Scalding is the way you like it right?'

'Yes! Oh, you are amazing. Oh, I could just sniff this all day.' She inhaled deeply. And for a second she saw those icy-blue eyes closing in content when taking a sip. A shot of pain, quite different from that the pain of the cancer, ran through her. And tears welled up in her eyes.

'I'm so sorry Andyspy. I shouldn't have –' Dough worriedly looked at her.

'No, no it is quite okay.' It's just a little… weird… Y'know?' She tried to smile at him. 'But smelling it is good too.' She sniffed some more. It smelled so… warm. The closest to comfort she could get. But after thinking it she felt guilty. It was not the closest to comfort she could get. All the people that meant so much to her were there for her. Staying at her bedside no matter how awful and hopeless her situation. It was however, the closest surrogate comfort from her. Staring at the coffee she tried to take in all its properties, all the memories and the colours and sounds that accompanied the cup. Doug softly squeezed her shoulder. 'You know we will be alright don't you?'

'Yes.' She grabbed Doug's hand. 'Yes I know you will.' Tears glided down her cheeks. She missed him. Already. And at the same time she wished she could spend time with her parents a little more. She wished she could spend more time with all her loved ones apart. She wished she could get outside of this depressing hospital room. To just walk in this gorgeous city and breathe actual air instead of compressed O2 through a tube. She wished so much.

'He, Andy bird, don't worry. It's going to be okay.' Doug cradled her in his big arms and stroked through her hair. She sniffled a bit and exhaled a shaky breath. 'It's going to be okay.' She could hear the timbre of his voice resonating through his chest. She liked the sound and cradled deeper into his arms.

'Did Nigel and Emily visit you in the hours that I was gone?' It was a useless question. Of course they hadn't. They had come by when she was taken into the hospital, but before the tests were run. She had told them that all had been well. And that she just needed to be resting and doing some more tests and stuff. Using some random medical jargon they had, as expected, accepted her half-truth and assured her that they would come and visit her soon.

'You might want to tell them?' Doug's timbre now sounded a bit unsure.
'And what? Make them feel guilty for not being able to visit me more? They already kill themselves over the fact that they have no time to visit me.'
'Well the last time I saw the redhead she snapped at me like, 50 times and then ate my chocolate muffin and took 10 phone calls. '

'Yes but that is Emily killing herself over the fact that she can't be here more. I mean, have you seen how much the girl weights? And only responding to 10 means she let at least 50 go over to voicemail.'
Doug remained silent.

She spoke with a small voice into his shoulder. 'I just don't want them to see me like this, I don't want them to know I'm… I'm…' again the tears made way through her body.

'I know honey. I know.' Softly Dough stroke her hair while she cried. At some point, she could feel his shoulders shatter too. Together they hurled around each other.

When she calmed down a bit he dried the strains with a tissue.

'What are those?' Doug pointed at the paper on her desk near her bed. Glad to be switching subjects she looked at where he was pointing.

'Oh. Janine, the kind nurse gave them. Letters to tomorrow if I would write them.'

'Are you going to?' Dough asked hesitantly.

'No I don't think so.' Andy shrugged her shoulders.

A knocking sound on the door was the signal of Lilly arriving, but the first thing sticking around the door were flowers. 'Got these from your apartment Andypants.' Lilly's voice sounded cheerful, which formed a needed break within the loaded atmosphere. Andy recognized the light pink of freezia's and couldn't contain her giggle about the irony of all of it.

'Now where shall I put them?'

When Andy's eyes fluttered open, the digital clock read 3:12. Dough was sound asleep in a weird angle on the chair next to her. Her parents were huddled together on the other side. They had come back without waking her.

When she tried to write the tube of the morphine drip was in the way so she took it out of her hand. 'Might as well die while feeling something.' She mumbled. Grasping her favourite pen from the nightstand next to her bed she started writing. Her parents, Lily, Doug, Nate even, Nigel, Emily and at last, when she was too tired and the withdrawal from the morphine started to kick in and she felt sick to her bones, she wrote Miranda. She was going to die, she realized. And she didn't want to. She wanted to be alive. She wanted to feel, and run, and do so much, but she was so tired. She was so very tired and everything hurt. She started to feel nauseous, and with a last attempt she folded the letters and stamped them. After that, she whispered 'I love you. So much.' to the dark and sleeping forms surrounding her. Then she closed her eyes and fell in a turmoiled sleep, of which she did not expect to return.

Hi there.
A new story start for me. Because I needed to keep on writing but I couldn't manage with all the other stories. I always work on them, even if it is one or two sentences a month. But I needed something aside it to keep me going. We've now esthablished that 1) Everything I write, I write slowly and 2) There is no way of knowing when I update. I cannot work with schedules, so I am so very sorry but cannot promise you regular updates for anything or any fic.

This is a story based on one of the first Lesbian books I read back in the day when I was still so deep in the closet. I now realise how particular unrealistic the storyline is, but to me all that mattered was that the protagonist was not straight. This story will not be following the book, but rather is inspired by it. So, in honour of Rita Mae Brown and Venus Envy, this story bares the same title as the book.

Thank you, for those out there that sometimes give my works a try. I am very very gratefull to this fandom that is characterized by so many great authors as well as lovely people who are open to new writers and readers.

I dont own DWP, which I am actually happy about. This way, we can all build together this fandom. Including my mistakes, that I often make, but never feel judged for.

Thanks. xx