Veruca usually liked to have a little something with her tea, but with such a heavy (and important) scene on schedule that day, she didn't have much of an appetite. She'd arrived early enough to have her pick of any pastry in the case of their coffee shop, but she draped her coat over the back of her chair before settling in with her chai to await Gemma's arrival.

The shop was warm enough to leave her wondering whether her thick, white turtleneck sweater was a good idea that morning, a hot drink not helping her feel any cooler.

But neither did seeing Gemma walk through the door. The any room automatically felt smaller, warmer when she was around.

Veruca waved, then gestured to the second drink, Gemma's, on her table so her co-star knew she didn't have to get one, stuffing a book into her tote before the other woman came over.

It was another bit of research she'd hoped to have finished before filming started, but Veruca had been nothing if not distracted during the entire process of this movie. At least the biography she'd picked up on Margaret Sanger (because learning about Olive's aunt, however distant and unhelpful she was, seemed important) was interesting, something she couldn't say for (stupid, possibly accurate) DISC theory. She knew she would actually finish this one.

Even if they finished the movie first.

"There she is." She smiled at Gemma as she sat down. "Did you want a muffin or something? I wasn't hungry so..."

Uncharacteristically, Gemma had been running a little late that morning. She'd been on a phone call with her mother, which, getting Margot Wethersby to actually take the cue of "i have to go" and not getting a "oh just one more thing!" response would take even the strongest willed person. She'd hustled to the coffee shop, showing up only a couple minutes late -- but a couple minutes felt like a significant deal when she actually, genuinely wanted to be in the company of who she was meeting.

Spotting Veruca almost immediately, she smiled. Her gaze lingered a little longer than it needed to, taking her in. This coffee shop held a lot of good memories for the pair of them now, didn't it?

"Sorry luv," She said by way of greeting, sweeping off her coat and putting it over her chair as she took a seat, but not before she'd reached out to squeeze Veruca's arm in a hello.

"You're a goddess, thank you for this." She said with a gesture to the coffee cup, one that turned into a passive wave of her hand. "No. I ate an apple before coming but I don't think I could have much else. Scenes like this one sort of ..." She gestured wildly with her hands as though to mimic whatever anxiety went along with a scene that was so deep. "You know."

Veruca ducked her head, a bit sheepish by how struck she was by just how much she and Gemma were alike. She'd never had this sort of connection with anyone, co-star or otherwise before.

"I know," she said with a slight smile. "I'm exactly the same way."

Deep down she knew they had nothing to worry about. She couldn't think of a scene they hadn't nailed in two or three takes, but there was an underlying pressure on days like these and no one applied more of it than Veruca herself.

As strange as it sounded and as much as she wanted to help take that pressure away from Gemma, Veruca couldn't help but be charmed that her co-star was feeling it too. There was something comforting, an undeniably attractive in knowing just how much the other woman cared about work and what they were doing.

Goodness knows she had been around plenty of actors who just didn't seem to give a shit.

She reached across the table to give Gemma's arm what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze, a comfortable silence settling between them before Veruca asked a question that had been weighing on her mind for at least a month now.

"Do you think she knows she loves her?"

It probably seemed sudden, apropos of nothing and Veruca ducked her head, realizing some clarification was probably needed. "Olive," she said softly. "Do you think Olive knows Elizabeth loves her because I honestly don't think she does. I mean, she feels it, but I always figured Elizabeth never said as much until they're in the hospital room."

Gemma couldn't help but beam at the other woman, Veruca's response just striking home all over again how well matched they were. As scene partners, of course.

"Of course you are." Her tone sounded almost wistful, as she averted her gaze because she was clearly smiling too much. It was almost amusing just how easy it was to get lost in moments like this one with Veruca. So simple and quiet even, and yet she found she just adored this woman more and more as time went on.

The scene ahead of them was a big one, and the anxiety came from Gemma having to give into a distinct shift to Elizabeth. This was the first time she truly allowed herself to show vulnerability beyond something she could turn physical. When Olive demanded that she hated her, there was a crack there, a genuine desire to show her just how opposite their feelings were for each other. It had been poured into a kiss, ferocious and breathtaking as it was. Elizabeth didn't have to be vulnerable entirely, because their desire for each other took over. Any other moment where Elizabeth might show her vulnerability, it was masked by sarcasm or downright cruelty at times.

But for this scene, there would be no show, no hiding behind glib remarks or even the ability to walk away. They wouldn't even touch or kiss in this scene. This was going to be pure, and it would be agony all at once. Gemma had read the scene so many times she knew it by heart, and she had connected so unbelievably deeply with it.

Just like she had with Veruca, if she were to throw in that comparison.

Veruca's question, so sudden and blunt, caught Gemma entirely off guard. For a moment, she felt struck dumb - all of it unexpected. She felt as though everything within her seized up until her heart rammed into her ribs and beat fast. Yes. She was asking about Olive. Of course.

"I agree with you." She said, clearing her throat after she spoke becasue it sounded, well, a bit choked. "I think she barely admitted it to William, much less herself. I think she's figured that she's shown it, she might not need to say it. The stubborn bitch." She said with a small smile, pushing on. "But she does." Gemma spoke softer a moment later, her eyes finding Veruca's though she wished she hadn't. "I think she loves her desperately, and always has. It's just her inability to give up that power until now."

Veruca smiled, somewhat relieved that they were on the same page. Though not entirely surprised. She honestly felt silly for thinking any different.

And a bit dizzy at how the intensity of Gemma's gaze while she talked about love (even if it was someone else's) made her feel.

"That's what I thought too. And Olive... I mean, on some level she knows she cares about her, but a person never really feels totally secure until the other comes out and says it, you know?" She sipped her drink, sighing. "She was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. And she got so used to being pushed away that she wasn't really surprised when Elizabeth banished her, you know? And she got so tired of eggshells that it was like fine, I'm not doing this anymore and I'm not going to do it again so that's why Elizabeth really needs to convince her this time around." She paused. "And I mean, she is unhappy, sure. But I also think she does kinda like having to go out and work to take care of the boys as hard as it is. I always felt like she envied Elizabeth a bit when she went off to work, as sucky as it was. I mean, she wanted to be a journalist and do more too, as much as she does love looking after everyone. A little independence probably did her good."

The nature of their relationship, Gemma and Veruca, was a delicate one. They'd found such a balance by now, hadn't they? No matter what had transpired, what they might want from one another, their connection was palpable. It felt intense at times, like it filled up the room all around them and Gemma at times felt helpless in fighting against it. But to discuss the feeling of love, even not about themselves felt ... big. It felt like a scary step that Gemma wanted to side-step ... even as she went into great depth about those feelings for her character.

Who wouldn't fall madly in love with Olive Byrne, anyway? Elizabeth, what a stubborn woman she was. Finally she could admit it.

"It makes complete sense. If you think about it, William was really one of the few people Elizabeth ever trusted and ... that took a lot of time." She said with a sideways smile. Her fingers lifted instinctively, the side of her thumb dragging absentmindedly along the inside of Veruca's wrist. Gemma loved how animated Veruca got, how much she cared about what the scene was, what Olive felt. It made her feel slightly less odd for always diving in with the same kind of zeal. "And it's hard as hell for Elizabeth to do it. Which I think makes it mean all the more. She has to learn to give in and compromise. I don't think even William got her to agree to that." She chuckled, sipping at her drink with her free hand - as she dared not move her other. "Olive gets to assert her own dominance here, which is beautiful. And then this really does launch the rest of their lives, doesn't it? The next ... almost forty years spent together. It's impossibly romantic, these two."

"Exactly, Olive finally puts her foot down which..." Veruca took a sip. "I feel like she does. As time goes by she grows more of a backbone. She stands up to her fiance, to Elizabeth. I sort of feel like Elizabeth wouldn't stay interested if she was, you know, some mousy little pushover. Olive is brave, braver than her in some aspects. She takes risks, she goes all in, in ways Elizabeth doesn't, but she's so scared to..." She bit her lip. "She's always scared to push things too far with her because she's afraid she'll push her away."

God, could Veruca relate.

"Bravery has a limit, is what I'm saying. And Olive's limit with Elizabeth is smaller than everything else. But you know, the nightmare scenario has happened now so what does she have to lose, you know? She's going to ask for what she wants, time and stoves and her because she can't do all of that again."

Veruca had never really forgotten that she hadn't let go of Gemma, but just like a million other things in relation to her co-star, she wasn't going to knowledge it, but she moved her hand, letting their fingers lace together anyway.

"It is romantic. We should all be so lucky, but it's real too. They were stubborn. They had some real bumps in the road, but..." Her eyes seemed to find Gemma's on their own accord, her voice soft. "They get together in the end."

"It kind of makes me wonder if in part, Elizabeth has been waiting for a moment like this one." She started, thoughtful as she swirled the idea around in her mind. "From the get-go, I think Elizabeth was always so incredulous that Olive wanted her as much, even more than she wanted William. Even as they got more comfortable in their relationship, I think in part, she didn't trust herself with it, and so she projected that lack of trust onto Olive." God, could she related to that. "Nevermind that I'm sure she finds it both endearing and wildly sexy when she asserts herself." And that, she could relate to as well.

"Elizabeth knows how intimidating she can be, as well. I think she kind of counts on that, and certainly wielded that against Olive. It makes so much sense that William would have to have her physically show her submission not just to Olive, but to the big feelings she has for her." Lord, she wasn't going to get through this scene, was she?

This felt like the most natural thing. Sitting in their coffee shop, deep in conversation about something they both cared so much about ... and holding her hand. The simplest thing, just how their fingers laced together so naturally as though they were meant to do that. She wasn't going to dare looking at their hands, or moving in the slightest. She didn't want to break the spell.

"They do. And they really are lucky to have each other." She agreed, her thumb absentmindedly smoothing along Veruca's as their hands held fast together. Totally something friends did, right? "I don't think it's going to be hard to let the waterworks come." She laughed softly, shaking her head a bit. She nearly felt it now, the intensity of the moment just ... overwhelming. "They truly work to make their relationship last, and I think knowing that it's like to lose each other ... well that's something neither are keen to do again."

"It's your turn noooow," she sing songed. It was an attempt to ease Gemma's nerves and maybe even break some of their current tension even though holding the other woman's hand was the opposite of unpleasant for Veruca.

It wasn't all on Gemma and Elizabeth. It was an intense scene that required a lot out of Veruca and Olive too (including some tears, because of course it did they were going to be front row and center of everything even if Luke and Bill will giving them a helpful nudge along.

Veruca suddenly realized that this wasn't the first time Olive would see Elizabeth vulnerable, it would be the first time she would see Gemma that way too. Sure it was pretend, but... could she handle it? Sensitive herself, Veruca had never been able to stand seeing someone, especially someone she cared about, cry, something her girlfriend used to her advantage during particularly intense fights. They hadn't done a thing yet, but Veruca already knew her heart would break just a little when she saw the tears coming, even though Olive's happiness would eventually have it soaring.

"it's going be great," she said softly, giving Gemma's hand a soft squeeze. "You really are..." She paused for a moment, wondering if it was corny to steal one of her character's key lines, but ultimately went for it. There really was no better word to describe the woman across from her. "Magnificent."

Veruca didn't have much time to worry over how potentially lame she had been. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, followed by Gemma's a second later. It was time to go.

She reluctantly let go of Gemma's hand, but not before giving it another squeeze. "I think we should time it so we don't see each other before we go on. Help us feel like it really has been a while since we've seen each other."

"Oh god, I was unprepared!" She laughed, letting her face drop into her free hand in a dramatic fashion. But Gemma was laughing - Veruca, for all that they had ups and downs and complicated feelings between them, could put her in the best mood. She felt ever affected by her presence, no matter when or where they were.

Emotional scenes usually weren't all that daunting to Gemma. Sure, there was a lot of difficulty in them one way or another, but Gemma felt as though they could be approached similarly to any other. The scene today, she didn't think that she'd run into much trouble getting there emotionally. In fact, she felt so connected to Elizabeth and her feelings for Olive, that she wondered if she'd actually be able shut off the water works.

Part of her wished that they were filming this scene last, that it would be sort of a final moment for the two (three) of them, but she'd actually been relieved the deeper in they got that they would have more scenes to do after this one. She was relieved that they'd have tumultuous ones, that they'd have a few flirtatious ones. Honestly, she was just glad they had time left at all. She could already tell that leaving this film behind would be difficult. Leaving Veruca would be even harder.

Gemma truly wasn't often great at taking compliments, but something about Veruca's made her blush all the more. She tilted her head to the side, grinning at the use of Olive's line. "You're too much." She said, squeezing her hand back. "Y'know I'm only a reflection of who I have to work with." And that she meant all the more.

Whatever was happening here, the buzz of their phones interrupted it ... but it was not as unpleasant of an interruption as they'd had before. "Off we go."

Standing once they'd pulled their hands apart, she lifted her bag over her shoulder and turned back to Veruca. "I like that idea, actually. I think it will help all the more." She stopped herself from saying more of what she felt. That be it hours, days, the occasional week spent without Veruca felt agonizingly long. She couldn't fathom the pain of Elizabeth being without Olive for so long. "Should we go back separately? Really keep it pure?"

"Pure?" Veruca's lips twitched before she leaned down to grab her stuff. "Alright, we'll go full on Daniel Day Lewis. All out."

She shot her a wink as she hoisted her bag up and onto her shoulder and made her way out the door. Though she did stop and acknowledge a barista's goodbye and have a brief conversation (a sign of just how much time she'd been spending at the shop to fetch their drinks in the morning).

Veruca wasn't a fan of her costume this time around. The ruffle detail was too... much for her taste, but she did appreciate the fact that she was wearing white again, wondering if it was a subtle nod to her Grecian gown. But when she finally caught a glimpse of Gemma standing around and listening to direction, she realized it probably wasn't. Veruca had paid very close attention to what her co-star was (and wasn't wearing) that day and her somber dress didn't bear much resemblance to her cheetah coat.

Was she already in mourning? She'd had a much longer time to prepare for the worst. Veruca suddenly realized just how much they'd been shouldering alone. Olive was trying to take care of herself and the boys. She was on her own for the first time ever but Elizabeth was handling things on her own, too. More than Olive, really. She had the kids and a sick husband to worry about. Add a broken heart into the mix and god, it was a wonder she was still standing.

Veruca took a step back before she could see her, not wanting to ruin their plan, the previously agreed upon element of surprise. Since she'd arrived first, she'd talked with Angela right away and was more or less ready to go.

When the time came, Olive arrived in a huff. Veruca decided she was coming straight from work and had it in her mind that she wasn't staying long. It was hard to see Bill like this. It was hard to see Elizabeth, period and she knew she couldn't handle the other woman if she was in one of her moods. She wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of seeing her break. Not anymore.

"Sorry to be late."

"Please, God, smack me if I ever." Gemma laughed, scrunching her nose at the idea of Daniel Day Lewis and his antics.

As Gemma had lingered a little while in the shop, she'd taken the moment to marvel at Veruca, how she moved, how she related to the people around her. She could imagine her now, walking in here every morning and smiling at the Baristas, ordering 'the usual', and one of those being for her. The whole idea made her chest feel warm.

As she sat in the chair in the hair & makeup trailer, she wasn't entirely sure about the hairstyle. Each one had been carefully selected throughout the whole film, but her nerves were getting to her and she found that she'd always nitpick a bit more when that was the case. Once she was on set, she felt better though, largely in part to Luke lounging on one of the beds and spouting off about a take they'd done that morning in his scene where he could not for the life of him get the line right.

They were starting the scene together, Gemma and Luke, and Gemma could feel the nerves building within her - she felt how somber it was, that here was her husband, near the end of his life, wanting nothing more than for her, and Olive, to be settled -- and together. But Elizabeth was stubborn, even against her own grief.

When Veruca entered the room, the other woman was all that filled her gaze. She felt not entirely unlike Elizabeth then, watching her come down the hall in a different scene, the months they'd been without each other stretched like eons. It felt different than this morning now, with the weight of this scene, of what it meant, of what was to come all so present. Gemma sat against the edge of one of the hospital beds, her breath stunted in her lungs for the moment until she tore her eyes away to look at the floor.

William thanked her for coming, and Elizabeth shifted, crossing her arms and trying not to let her gaze return to Olive. She stood as Bill moved from the window, instinctively going towards him in case, well, collapse maybe. She worried over him, but the emotion already roiling within her had little to do with him and everything to do with them. Their family. "Dear, I was wondering if it would be possible for me to speak for three minutes without you interrupting me." Leveled, Elizabeth blinked at him but refused to let her gaze go hard. He knew her too well. "Sure." She said plainly, barely disguising the annoyance in her tone. Then, and only then, did she steal a glance back to the woman across the room.

Olive's stomach sank as Bill started to speak. She knew what he was doing and she couldn't bear it. She wasn't ready to say goodbye. She knew she couldn't hold herself together while she heard his and breaking down wouldn't do anyone, all three of them, any good. She wanted to be strong, but especially for their sake. Goodness knows The Marstons had been through enough.

So she cut him off. "I'm sorry, this really isn't necessary."

And it wasn't. Veruca didn't have any doubts that Olive was unsure of Bill's feelings for her. They had always been out in the open and fairly straight forward. They had always been on the same page. A team, even, optimists eager to convince Elizabeth anything, or at least the life they wanted, was possible.

Not that they ever really succeeded.

But how could she not soften and let him continue, say what he needed to say in the precious time he had left.

She expected a thank you, a mention of happier times spent together, directions of what to tell the boys, maybe even a request to see them more often while he still could.

She was dumbstruck by what came next.

Elizabeth was wrong. She loves you and she can't live without you.

It wasn't just a shock to hear Bill confirm what she'd always hoped to hear from Elizabeth. It was a shock to hear him contradict her in the first place. Neither of them, even him, the person who had known her the longest and knew her best, did.

An argument ensued and Olive just felt awkward, any temporary euphoria over hearing about Elizabeth's feelings dashed by the woman herself. She'd jumped in to speak her mind, hadn't she? And now that she'd been pushed out of the picture, their fights had very little to do with her anymore. What good would it do to visit when she was just going to cause Bill more stress? It was the last thing he needed right now.

It was the last thing she needed. This whole situation was so...complicated. At times it had seemed like the easiest thing in the world. Loving the Martsons was like breathing. Natural, innate, necessary because it couldn't be helped but Elizabeth made it complicated. She always had.

"I can't do this. You asked me to come, I came. Now I'm going." Her voice was firm, but there was a hint of fatigue there too. Olive was tired. Tired of struggling and so, so very tired of this.

Olive's life may have been hard and lonely at the moment, but it was simple. She didn't have to deal with these sort of frustrations, having her hopes brought up then sent crashing back down anymore. It was time to walk away from...whatever this was.

Maybe Elizabeth was right all along. The idea that the three of them could be together was a fantasy, even if they'd made it a reality for a little while.

Please don't go.

And now she was angry at him, too. He'd said a variation of that before, right before she'd loaded up the car and drove herself and the boys away, implying that the choice to leave had been hers. What was he trying to accomplish pulling her back in again? What was left for her besides more maddening frustration? The prospect of watching him die?

"I have made a new life for myself, Bill..."

Hard as it was on her own, Olive was proud of what she'd accomplished. She'd always wanted more. She'd wanted to go out, see the world and stand on her own two feet before everything had happened. She didn't regret getting pregnant or the time she'd spent with The Marstons but she had a taste of that now. She liked it, even if she didn't like everything else.

And she wasn't about to give either of them the satisfaction of thinking she'd just been sitting around pining for their company.

But are you happy?

"Does it matter?" she said with a slightly bitter laugh.

This was a different Olive, one that was harder, more cynical than the bright, optimistic girl they'd met years before. One that even she didn't recognize, but kind of needed to be. Part of it was self preservation. She needed to be strong in this moment for a thousand different reasons, but at the root of everything, she needed to stand up for herself.

And had finally learned how to.

This was one of those scenes that Gemma felt utterly immersed in the second they started rolling. She felt like Elizabeth was just there, perhaps because this was one of the scenes that Gemma related to the most. Being vulnerable was insanely hard for anyone, but Gemma found it hard on her own. Trusting someone enough to let them see the ugliest parts of yourself, the parts you kept hidden -- that was an incredibly high hurdle to overcome.

But here was Olive, and moreover, here was Bill not allowing Elizabeth to back away and fill the room with her bullshit. Even as he spouted off that she loved Olive, she scoffed, wheeling on him like she might actually smack him upside the head. He cut her off as she tried to defend herself, and it was no use. She'd agreed to let him speak. It didn't mean she had to like it.

She looked everywhere but at Olive across the room - where Gemma knew on some very personal level, that looking at Veruca would cause her to break too soon. It had to be Elizabeth and Olive. It had to be Elizabeth willing her gaze to meet the woman she loved across the room.

Elizabeth had to be the most stubborn character that Gemma had ever played. She was near tantrum level of obstinate here, listening to Bill go on and on, trying to convince Olive to stay with them, to take them back.

When Bill stopped her with please don't go, her gaze finally lifted to the other woman. It was instinctive, her heart lurching so painfully in her chest at the prospect that she might leave, that her breath took a few moments to return to her lungs.

Why when Olive said she'd made a life for herself, did that sting so badly? It made sense, and she should have found her own life. That's what she wanted, right? That's what she had to expect when she told Olive to leave. Had she even found someone else? The thought made her stomach turn, even though Gemma knew that wasn't the case.

I am going to die, and you will be left with your bitterness and your rage, and your knowledge that you loved her and she loved you and you threw it away for them.

If anyone knew Elizabeth to her core, it was Bill, and it was Olive too - if she'd admit that. But Bill could cut right through her bullshit and draw her a line she'd have to decide to cross. Her eyes were filled with tears that had yet to fall, her jaw set, twitching as she clenched her teeth.

"Our kids don't deserve to be attacked, to be ostracized..."

It was yet another excuse, and she knew it - her voice was weak when she said it.

Our children are inheriting your shame. Is that how you want them to live? Is that the lesson you want to teach them?

One of Gemma's favorite lines but god, was it gutting. Now do you love her?

Elizabeth stole a glance to Olive. She could see her, stubborn, standing in her own power in a way she wasn't used to. Her heart thundered in her chest. Gemma would have to later thank Luke for being so present, so tuned in and phenomenal in his performance -- even if the scene was really about the women.

Her throat felt tight, her eyes brimming with tears as she grappled with too much adrenaline. "Yes." She choked out, as if she were angry at the word for escaping her lips. And have you always? "Yes." Came her immediate response, a stomp of her foot accompanying her confession like it was a punishment for admitting it. So then ask her.

Elizabeth turned away from him, her hand flying up to her face, angrily swiping at her eyes for betraying her. She took a moment, trying not to cry, her throat too tight to even form words. Gemma knew her lines. For Elizabeth, finding the words just didn't come naturally. Showing the deepest parts of her heart, the ones she'd kept to herself. She couldn't hide anything from Olive anymore.

"Olive ..." She sighed her name, looking down at the floor. "Will you forgive me." She said it more like a statement, like she expected her to agree immediately. There, I've said it.

Luke's lines really did hit home and Veruca did her best to focus on them, but her focus, just like Olive's, was always on the other woman. She was unknowingly doing the same as Gemma. Veruca knew she couldn't look at her just yet. Olive couldn't either. Not if they didn't want to lose their resolve.

Bringing up the kids was a low blow and a ridiculous notion when Bill had literally fought for them. Olive had too, in her own way. They'd spoken up, defended themselves against closed minded interlopers when Elizabeth had just stood there and took it. She'd cowered. She'd scurried away like...

Elizabeth had been compliant, not them. She always had been. Olive & Bill had always been willing to fight for what they had, even when they were only fighting their wife.

"No." Tears (a strange sight on such a strong woman's face and a sort Olive had never really seen from Elizabeth before) or not, it was easy to stand firm. Olive didn't forgive her and wasn't sure she ever would.

She hadn't just hurt her. She pushed her out of her home away from the kids. She'd taken the kids away from each other. She'd uprooted the boys. Olive had lost Bill too, been absent during a time when she should have been there to comfort him. Even if she did return to them, Olive had still lost precious moments they'd never get back.

Elizabeth had treated her like a stranger, someone who didn't matter.

I don't even know what you are.

Olive didn't even warrant a description and she was tired. So tired of being baited by her because let's face it, Elizabeth had never really stopped. She was so tired of being toyed with and jerked around.

And this, this was ridiculous. What kind of person couldn't admit their feelings without someone else coaxing them out of them? Elizabeth may have been crying but it didn't seem sincere. She sounded like a petulant child, rattling off an apology she'd been forced to make, every word dripping with stubbornness and defeat.

"No," she repeated again once Elizabeth was incredulous at her answer and it felt good to say it. She was tired of being gracious, of being the one to scramble to mend fences, of having to sweep things under the rug and pretend Elizabeth's words and actions didn't matter or leave some kind of lasting mark. She never forgot any of them, any little wound or the idea that more hurt would be coming because it always did, eventually.

She needed to be told no. She so rarely heard it.

Had Elizabeth ever had to apologize before in her life? Gemma wondered that in the moment, when the stark no was the response that Olive gave. "No?" She said in a shocked moment, incredulous and maybe a little annoyed, too. No, that firm answer. It brought back a sudden memory of another non-apology from Elizabeth, only to be met with a 'fuck you.' That steel spine from Olive always threw the woman off, caught her entirely off guard. Elizabeth was used to getting her way - with her partners anyway. Bill would defer to her often, Olive at times as well. If she couldn't have complete control in her career or her education (the motherfuckers at Harvard), then by god she was going to have control in her relationship.

But that was part of the problem, wasn't it? The moment she felt her control slipping, Elizabeth cut it off. She took her control back by pushing away what she could, what felt scary, even what she wanted. If it threatened her whole equilibrium, it was just so much easier (in theory) to cut it loose, rather than grow with it. Yet she expected everyone to be fine with that. What a fool Elizabeth was.

But this pain was too profound. This time, she had crossed a point of no return and there was no quick take-back. Even calling Olive when they'd found out Bill was sick, that had been a crack in her resolve yet easy to contend with because it was Bill. They were losing him, and it wasn't only Elizabeth. It was Olive, it was their children. Theirs. Bill drove home the point that she would be all alone, and Elizabeth thought she could handle that. Surely she didn't need anyone to survive ... and yet, that lie was perhaps the biggest of all.

Suddenly Bill was in her face, demanding that she relinquish her dominating for once. "I don't know what you're talking about." She half yelled at him, though her gaze was still locked like tunnel vision on the woman across the room. As Bill dropped to his knees and called for her to do the same, she wrenched her hand away from his grasp, taking a step back. "I will not, this is absurd." Elizabeth was nothing if not full of pride.

"I..." She had an argument locked and loaded. But she looked at Olive, she looked at the woman who was standing her ground and something finally, mercifully began to crack like a spider web effect in glass. Bill wasn't budging. Olive wasn't budging. It was finally Elizabeth's turn, and it felt like swimming against her own nature. She huffed and pulled her hand away again as Bill reached for it, using both of them to swipe angrily at the tears that wet her cheeks.

This is ridiculous she said to herself again, rolling her eyes to stare at the ceiling for a second before she slowly began to sink to her knees. All eyes were on her and she felt it, boring into her soul. Gemma felt Elizabeth here, true as anything she'd ever felt. Her breath shuddered, her tears brimmed yet again.

Finally, contrition. "Olive, please forgive me." The humble tone of her voice didn't even sound like herself. Bill prompted her more, as her focus remained on Olive. "Please take us back." Even admitting that felt like a milestone, how desperately she wanted Olive back in their life. Her breathing remained shallow as she felt so affected not only by her own emotion, but the woman across from her. "I thought I knew everything. I thought love wasn't enough but it ...has to. It has to be enough because we cannot--" Her voice entirely broke, and Gemma let the emotion flood through her, not even trying to keep it at bay. "We cannot live without you."

"I cannot live without you." God, if that didn't bore right through Gemma like a flame. She felt it suck the breath from her lungs, the tears in her eyes falling. It wasn't hard to connect there, either. This moment truly felt about them, and yes Bill too, but it was for them, entirely. "Please. Come back to us."

She didn't expect her to do it. The sight of Elizabeth getting down on her knees caught Olive off guard, but not nearly as much as the shift in her voice did. There was a tenderness there that she rarely heard. It made her tender, too.

Olive's resolve began to crumble. She couldn't let herself look away from Elizabeth now. Every word making her heart pound that much harder, especially when "we" turned into "I".

The tears she had been holding back began to fall freely, but she didn't dare reach up to wipe them away. She didn't want to miss a second of this, of hearing what she wanted to hear for so long.

I cannot live without you.

It was a sentence that hit Veruca just as hard as it did her character. Olive wasn't the only person who had never heard it before. Haley had certainly never said anything even remotely similar. Her actions had never given off that impression either. But it wasn't even about her current relationship. Veruca had never had a moment, a love like this. She nearly reminded herself that no one did. That this was a movie and that she was playing pretend but... weren't Olive & Elizabeth, real? Okay, so maybe things hadn't played out exactly like this, but they'd stayed together until the very end, hadn't they? It was possible. She just needed to find the right person.

On some level she knew she already had, but Veruca was dealing with her own bought of stubbornness.

Olive's began to fade away, but she turned most of her attention to Bill, still afraid of losing her resolve because she had a few conditions before she gave in. Looking at Elizabeth would only cause her to lose her nerve because all she really wanted to do was pull her off her knees and into her arms because seeing her down there was as heartbreaking as it was thrilling.

"I want a new stove," Veruca said, surprised she didn't laugh right along with her co-stars because she had when she first read the script on her sofa what seemed like a lifetime ago.

Then Olive continued because if Elizabeth Marston was down on her knees begging for forgiveness anything seemed possible. She wanted more help with the kids, time to herself. She wanted to Wonder Woman to wear something more practical than a silly burlesque outfit (although she knew Bill would never listen to her complaints on that account).

She wanted... god, could she say it? It was her turn to be pulse poundingly vulnerable but what did she have to lose? She'd already lost them, her once.

She turned her attention to Elizabeth. Even though she took a deep breath to steel herself, it didn't do much good. Her voice cracked as she said, "I want you to love me for all of my days." The tail end was squeaky, barely audible, but it was out there, spoken out into the world and into being because Elizabeth nodded, then verbally agreed.

The sob that escaped her lips was as relieved as it was happy. Somewhere, in the back of her mind Veruca was present and knew that they were done (or at least the scene was), but her tears had other ideas. She hated crying in front of people, but she also couldn't seem to look away from Gemma, whose cheeks seemed to be as wet as her own.

Her trance should have been broken when Angela called cut, but Veruca seemed to have fallen into a different one. Her feet seemed to move of their own accord, not stopping until they reached Gemma and helped her up off the floor, pulling her into a tight hug a split second after.

She didn't say anything, but she did bury her face in the other woman's neck, not caring in the slightest that her tears were leaving their mark on the shoulder of her dress and that everyone else on set was probably looking at her like she was crazy.

It felt foreign to her, or Elizabeth through her, to give so much of herself to another person. Even to William, she didn't fully submit to him. Be it in their day to day life or the bedroom, Elizabeth reveled in the amount of control she had. Bill was not meek by any means, but he allowed her the freedom to be her bold, brazen self without having to give an inch of it away. He really had let her get away with so much over the years they'd been together, hadn't he?

And here was Olive. Someone she initially passed off as quiet, too affable. A woman she had insulted and pined for, a woman she had loved, perhaps, from the moment she'd asked her not to fuck her husband. She had told Bill she didn't experience sexual jealousy, and passed it off as professional jealousy -- but perhaps what she hadn't admitted then, was that her jealousy was new and experienced differently because the person she would have been jealous of in that scenario would have been her husband. Wow, was that a revelation late in the game.

So here she was, allowing herself to fully submit, to allow her vulnerable parts to be seen, to give herself fully to someone else, someone who had, and would continue (no doubt) to challenge her day in and day out. That love was something, wasn't it?

Gemma felt it in her bones, the connection - and she couldn't be entirely sure it was Elizabeth. Their connection, this scene ... it was unlike anything she'd ever experienced in her life. The words struck her so hard, making her emotion and tears flow freely. She understood it all too well.

Her laugh came so natural, like she'd forgotten the line itself so when Olive demanded a new stove, she was nodding in agreement. She laughed, her grin unfaltering as Olive rattled off her list of demands.

That line. It struck her so hard, she felt it nearly physically. Her gaze never wavered, her cheeks wet with fresh tears. It was Olive's line, and it was Elizabeth's agreement, but in that moment, the line between the two felt ... blurred. The whole of her lines swam together as Gemma contended with the feeling. She didn't want to live without this woman, Veruca in her daily life. That was more to unpack later, or deal with on her own.

"Alright." She breathed the word, nodding, still smiling, though it was softer now. There they were, the three of them. Together again, and yet preparing for three to become two. Bill could go on knowing that they would always be together, always look after each other. Always love each other.

Gemma nearly missed the call for cut, her heart was racing too fast as Verruca crossed the space between them. As she stood, there wasn't a moment's hesitation as her arms circled around the other woman. She held her, just held her without regard to the crew around them, direction, whether the scene was over-over or not. The only thing that truly mattered was the strength of the moment and the connection that they shared.

"Thank you," She whispered against her ear, ignoring the goosebumps that rose on her arms when her lips touched to the shell of her ear. It wasn't as funny as when she'd thanked her for being the one to kiss her first. This was such a deeper thanks, for giving so much of herself to the scene and ... well, to her. Thankfully it seemed that Luke, Angela, and the crew were allowing them their moment. She held her, unwavering in her grip as she pressed a soft kiss to the side of her face, keeping her voice low and private just to Veruca. "Talk about magic, huh?"

"I told you we had it," Veruca whispered back, not entirely trusting herself to look Gemma in the eyes. She honestly liked being right where she was, though she did feel a slight twinge of disappointment when the other woman's lips landed on her cheek instead of where she wanted them to be.

The gesture, however chaste, caused a million butterflies in her stomach all the same.

With some effort, she pulled away. Luke had clearly been watching them with interest but when he noticed Veruca's attention turning to him, he couldn't resist the urge to tease her.

"I was on the floor too. I was groveling too," he said cheekily.

Veruca laughed, grateful that it released some of the tension she was feeling. Most of it was new, not a leftover mood from their scene. "I know and you're handsome and wonderful and I can't live without you either." She punctuated her praise with a kiss to his cheek, a gesture she wasn't brave enough to reciprocate with Gemma.

"You alright?" he asked softly once he stepped out of her embrace.

She smiled, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yeah, that was brilliant. You were brilliant. Everything's fine."