Turning Leaves v1 --Previous version, The nature of Dorian... and Amelia.

Update on 3.9.10: This story is being rewritten. Look in this forum for Turning Leaves v2.

A/N:

In the beginning of this story, you may notice I've been true to the characters as they have been presented on the show recently, picking them up and moving them forward from a current storyline.

However, this fic is meant to be an "alternate reality" because I can only assume as I write it that in the very near future, the storyline on the show will deviate from the direction my story goes. (I'll get an idea of how different the Dorian-Langston-Starr action will be tomorrow, I think.)

As always, constructive criticism and comments are appreciated, and I am open to editing any details I get wrong, if possible! Also, as of now the story is not finished, so hopes/suggestions/etc. would be fun to have, too! (Though I can't make any promises since several chapters are done (roughly - not final) and I have a pretty good idea of where I'm going right now.) I hope you enjoy!

Chapter One – Exes and Employees

The autumn air was crisp and the sky overcast. The tall white and grey trunks of the birches were beginning to show as the leaves slowly dropped from the trees.

Dorian Lord’s mood matched the underlying bite in the climate. She smashed her purse onto the small table in the foyer of La Boulaie as she clutched a copy of Craze magazine and shouted into her cell phone.

Her perfectly calm but concerned campaign manager, Amelia, followed behind her, a sleek black briefcase in one hand and a day planner in the other. She noted that the floor had been mopped and the room smelled slightly of citrus. She looked around as she waited for Dorian to get off of the phone.

"I told you to print the Nuage Onze layout! … Well, we could have delayed his until after the election! I don't care. … Then I would have told him to shove it, which is exactly what I'm telling you! … No, I don't want … you know what? Neh-eh-eh! Don't even! … You're fired!"

Dorian didn’t even bother to hang up. She tossed her phone to the corner of the room. It remained intact as it hit the wall, but busted open, sending the battery flying, as it hit the floor. She clenched her fists and half-growled, half-screamed in frustration.

Amelia blinked at her in astonishment. "Is there a problem?"

Dorian calmed enough to sigh at the magazine in her hand regretfully, feeling her blood pressure drop slightly. "They featured the designer Jean Binnot."

"So?"

"So-ooo," Dorian explained, exasperated, "He punched another designer at a fashion show last month. The man hit on him … and he hit right back!" She looked around on the table for the mail and didn’t find it.

"So the man isn't gay," Amelia smirked, slightly amused and partially annoyed by Dorian's over-reaction to the situation. "That has nothing to do with you. You're really going overboard with this gay thing, you know."

Dorian slapped the copy of Craze against the tabletop loudly as Amelia went to retrieve the pieces of Dorian's phone. "No, you’re absolutely right. A random act of violence has nothing to do with me." She paused, glaring at the magazine as if to pounce on it. "Except that I publish a magazine that lauds the accomplishments of a designer who beats up gay men! That's what they'll publish in The Sun!" She threw her hand over eyes, rattled. "I can see the headline already."

Amelia sighed as she tried to piece the cell phone back together. "I sincerely doubt Todd Manning follows what happens behind the scenes of fashion." She turned the phone back on and it chimed a few times, slightly off-key. "I've seen the man wear a plain white tee-shirt with a tuxedo jacket, and garden loafers with blue jeans -- in public."

Dorian smiled slightly, entertained by the Todd-bashing. "Amelia, I had no idea you were such a critic." She shifted her feet, nodding approvingly.

Amelia tucked Dorian's phone into the side pocket of her boss's purse and picked up the magazine, flipping through it disinterestedly. "The point is -- don't worry about it," she smiled, then laid the magazine aside to put her arm around Dorian's shoulders encouragingly.

Dorian, who was slightly shorter than her campaign manager, looked up at Amelia's face as she reached up and patted the hand on her shoulder. "You know what? I'm not going to. That's your job."

She pulled away and headed through the double doors to the sitting room, which had been overtaken by campaign posters, flags, buttons, hats, and yard signs. “Oh, dear,” she whispered to herself at the sight.

Langston looked up from the sofa as they entered, turning off the television with the remote. "Should I even ask what all that yelling was about in there?"

Dorian diverted her gaze innocently, having spotted the mail, and sifted through a few envelopes on the desk near the French doors.

Amelia looked back and forth between Dorian and Langston hesitantly for a moment, until it was clear that Dorian wasn't going to answer her daughter. "It was an employee issue with Craze," she explained casually, as unfazed by Dorian's yelling spell as Langston seemed to be.

Amelia stepped across the room to watch over Dorian's shoulder as her employer sliced the envelopes open with a sharp letter opener. She allowed Dorian to read the contents of the mail, but slowly took each piece of mail pertaining to the mayoral campaign away as they came to it.

"So, you wanted to talk to me about something?" Langston asked, placing the remote neatly on top of the coffee table and leaning forward.

Amelia and Dorian looked at each other, each silently asking the other if they wished to answer first.

"We need more photographs together," Dorian offered in response. "And I don't just mean for the campaign. I mean I'd really like to have some pictures of the two of us together. Wouldn't you?" she smiled brightly.

"Sure," Langston answered hesitantly, "but you said not ‘just’ for the campaign. That means you want to use pictures of the two of us together. Why?"

Amelia and Dorian exchanged another glance before Amelia took her mail and sat down across the coffee table from Langston, popping open her briefcase and organizing her papers into stacks.

She explained, "We really need to bring out some other good, relatable characteristics about your mother -- like her devotion to her family, her medical expertise, her diplomatic skills. I thought maybe we could start with an editorial about how you came to be part of the family … that is, if it is alright with you?" Amelia flashed a warm smile in Langston's direction.

Dorian came around the back of the couch and sat down next to Amelia, facing Langston and nodding encouragingly. "This would be the perfect opportunity to bring more attention to foster care -- and inspire people to adopt children in foster care."

Langston crossed her arms and blinked. "And use your own adopted daughter to scare up a few more votes? Are we going to include the part about my uncle getting shot and you being charged with attempted murder?"

Amelia's eyes widened. "Wait, you didn't tell me that part of the story." She shifted on the couch to face Dorian more directly, obviously concerned.

Dorian took a deep breath and looked down at her lap. "That was just a big misunderstanding -- and besides, he obviously forgave me. Just like I forgave him for trying to take you away… Listen, we're not even going to discuss that man. We just want to talk about how you ended up in my care … initially … and how much we love each other." She smiled at Langston affectionately.

Amelia looked back and forth between the two again, wanting to hear the story they weren't telling, but focusing on the issue at hand.

"So you want a picture of us together to go along with an article you're having someone write about how you saved me and brought me into your family," Langston clarified.

Dorian started to answer but Amelia spoke first. "Actually, she was kind-of hoping you would write the article, Langston. She says you're pretty good?"

Dorian lifted her eyebrows at her adopted daughter and nodded slowly, agreeing and encouraging.

"Oh," Langston said, fidgeting on the soft cushions of the couch. "You want me to write it?"

"Would you?" Dorian asked quietly. "I'll pay you. You'll be a professional writer!" she grinned.

"Um, no," Langston protested. "I mean, no, I don't want you to pay me. I'll do it. But you shouldn't have to pay me to talk about how much I appreciate you, Dorian." She stood and started to leave the room, but paused in the doorway, turning back to the two women on the couch. "Just let me know when our appointment with the photographer is."

Dorian nodded as Langston spun and left. She turned to Amelia and shrugged, letting out a breath of relief. "Teenagers."

Amelia turned her attention back to her stacks of papers. "You two do well together," she offered nonchalantly.

Dorian stood and went back to the desk. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"She seems to keep you grounded," Amelia stated, matter-of-factly. "She knows you too well to let you get away with anything."

Dorian's head jerked toward Amelia. "I don't know what you're talking about," she stated innocently. "Langston's just headstrong."

"Headstrong and smart," Amelia agreed, keeping her eyes on her work. "Like mother, like daughter."

"Yes, well…."

"So who is this uncle you don't want to talk about?" Amelia let her curiosity get the better of her.

Dorian sighed heavily and gazed out at the terrace, frowning at the stray leaves that had made their way into the greenery.

Amelia paused when she heard the obvious sigh and examined Dorian out of the corner of her eye.

"I mean it when I say … I don't want to talk about it." Dorian shook her head. "Him," she corrected herself.

"I take it you two did more than forgive each other…?"

"Amelia," Dorian emphasized. "I don't. Want. To talk about it."

"Mm-hm." They both distracted themselves in silence for a moment, until Amelia spoke up again. "The guy's name didn't happen to be Mel, did it?"

Dorian spun,wide-eyed. "What?"

"Well, it's just … when we first met, you said something about Mel showing up when you did something wrong? Don't ask me why, but I sort-of got the impression that Mel was someone you cared about. … I also sort-of got the impression that you needed to get your eyes checked if you thought I was him. I mean, I know I wear a suit…."

"No," Dorian interrupted, very unamused. "Mel was my husband."

"Before David," Amelia clarified to herself.

"Before … and after," Dorian corrected. "I loved him a great deal."

Amelia surmised that something had happened to Mel. She took out her laptop and tried to look distracted as she opened it. "So he's like your moral compass now?"

"He always tried to be," Dorian answered, also trying to look busy as she sifted through a box of packing peanuts to retrieve bundles of multicolored "Dorian Lord - Yes She Can!" ink pens.

Amelia contemplated as they worked in silence for a time. "David said you left him for a Ray Montez?"

"Amelia!"

"Oh, so he's Langston's uncle," she acknowledged in response to Dorian's scolding protest.

"I said I didn't want to talk about it," Dorian bit heatedly. "Don't push me. I excel at firing insolent employees."

"You won't fire me," Amelia smirked. "You need me on this campaign too badly. So what happened? David came back?"

Dorian furrowed her brows at Amelia, slightly confused.

"To Ray Montez -- what happened?"

Dorian gritted her teeth, setting her jaw. "It doesn't really matter, does it?" she finally asked. "He's gone. End of story." She turned and began digging in another box.

Amelia watched her for a moment, carefully and compassionately. "You say you don't want to talk about it," she finally offered gently, "but you're awfully adamant about something that happened a while back. It's okay, you know."

Dorian jerked her head at Amelia. "What?" she snapped.

"It's okay to talk about it. To me, I mean -- the outsider, the impartial third party."

"These envelopes are not self-adhesive," Dorian frowned with a sigh, pulling a small box out of a carton. "I specifically asked for self-adhesive envelopes!"

Amelia sighed. She refused to make any suggestions about licking envelopes, lest it backfire into a lesbian comment.

"Ana!" Dorian called out, having found an opportunity to drop the subject and leave the room. "Ana!!!"

Amelia watched her leave the room, shaking her head. She knew Dorian was impulsive, perhaps even a little bit wounded, but the more she tried to figure her out, the more questions were left unanswered.

She clicked her search engine and typed. "Ray Montez."

Thank you, thank you, thank you. It is such a pleasure to read dialogue with such strong intuitive women. Great reading Dorian's tantrum. You immediately get that this is a passionate woman who is speaking about what she believes in. I like that. Amelia's hands on Dorian's shoulders, Amelia and Dorian speaking for each other, Amelia's immediate interest in everything about Dorian... well, it gives one a sense of what might develop between them. You gotta know already that I love, love, love the mention of Ray and Dorian's resistance to talking about him. And so of course, Amelia is trying to find out more. I am curious if Langston has picked up on anything with Amelia toward Dorian. I LOL at the part about the envelop and thoroughly enjoyed Langston mentioning that Dorian tried to kill Ray. I love that we have the change of the seasons and a brief glimpse into Dorian's changing love life. That Amelia is a quick study.

I gotta tell ya...

My story's better than the show! *LOL* Just my biased opinion. Sorry!

Am I conceited or ... what?

Hell no you speak the truth! Just one chapter and I am into it!

Well, I don't want to say too much about the show before people see it, but I think Langston and Starr are gonna be more fun on this board. Of course, that's a conversation for another thread....

I love your attention to detail in terms of Dorian's conversations, surroundings, and feelings. I love how you are a newer viewer yet you so GET Dorian. You're a rarity, Jaemlyn!

These are the conversations we SHOULD be seeing on OLTL between Dorian, Langston, Amelia, and whoever. I wish Amelia was written like this, taking a real interest in Dorian and her past.

Hells yeah your story is better than the show, and that's only after the first chapter. Great job so far!

A/N:

Thank you guys for being so open to reading this story and for the encouraging comments! I really love them!

Let me remind you that I'm open to constructive criticism and fixing any errors you find. I am jumping back and forth from the final drafts of the first chapters to the rough drafts of later chapters and I get my days and the order of my conversations mixed up. Let me know if I mess anything up! You'll also find I will sometimes mention that a character is leaving to go do something, and the next time you see them, it is after they're back. I don't want to leave out parts of the story you'd like to see, so tell me if I do and I'll go back and try to work it in for you if I can!

Like I said in a different thread, there are moments in this story where I take the characters as they are presented on the show and use them to point out the faults/flaws in each other.

Chapter Two – Pushing Buttons

The leaves along the road rustled in the wind as David stapled a campaign poster to a wooden light pole with a staple gun. As he did so, an old staple left from past posters scraped against his knuckle and he stuck the edge of his finger in his mouth to soothe it.

Oliver Fish approached from across the street, dressed in blue jeans and a sweatshirt. "What do you think you're doing?” he demanded to know.

David paused to look him up and down. "Hanging posters -- what does it look like? Do you have a Dorian Lord button? Would you like to have one?" David pulled a button out of his jacket pocket and offered it to Fish.

"Why?" Oliver asked, disregarding the button.

"You're gay, right?"

"I meant, why are you hanging posters? You know that is defacing public property?"

David put the button back in his jacket pocket. "Actually, I did know that, because ever since Dorian's daughter got a ticket for that exact offense, she's been having me hang the posters." He lifted an eyebrow at Fish.

"Why did you just tell me that?" Fish asked, slightly annoyed.

"Well, you know - you scratch my back, I scratch yours. We help you get the right to get married, you help us get elected," David suggested. "Besides," he gestured, "it doesn't even look like you're on duty. Don't you need one of those new-fangled computer printers to 'write' a ticket?" He held his fingers up on each side to put quotations around the word "write" and a couple of flyers blew out of his hand and down the street.

He turned with Fish to watch them float away.

"And that, sir, is littering," Fish explained.

Todd Manning was getting out of his car to patronize a nearby coffee shop when Dorian’s face on a couple of fliers landed at his feet. He looked around and noticed David and Fish discussing things. Pulling out his cell phone, he snapped a couple of pictures of the fliers on the ground and left them there as he approached the other two men to listen to their conversation.

"Are you going to write me a ticket or not?"

"I'll tell you what," Fish offered, still annoyed as he pointed in the direction of Todd's car. "You pick them up, and I'll let you off with a verbal warning."

"Really?" David winced. "See, I was really hoping that you'd write me a ticket."

"You want a ticket," Fish asked in disbelief. "That is the most ridiculous thing I've heard all day. Though that tends to happen when I'm around your crowd."

Todd smirked, entertained.

"My crowd?" David asked. "The straight people? That seems a bit hypocritical of you…."

"I meant Doctor Lord's campaign."

"What's that supposed to mean?" David asked.

"Nothing, nothing. It's just that you're all completely unpredictable." Fish shook his head incredulously.

"So, you're not going to write me a ticket?" David clarified, disappointed.

"Why do you want a ticket?"

"So they'll find someone else for this menial work." David held his hands up in front of Oliver and turned them back and forth. "Do these hands look like hands that were meant for manual labor? I don't think so."

Fish sighed at him. "I'd bring that up with your boss, just like I'm going to bring up the Lord campaign's disrespect for public property with mine."

"Great," David muttered as Fish stomped off. He turned to add a few more staples to the poster on the light pole as Todd snapped another picture with his camera phone. "What are you doing?" David asked.

"'Campaign manager caught defacing public property narrowly avoids ticket,'" Todd offered the next day's headline as he inspected the pictures he had taken. "Or maybe, 'Dorian Cramer Lord - litterer?'"

David sighed. "Alright, how much is it going to cost me to get you to not print that?"

"Seriously?" Todd asked, grinning.

David opened his wallet and pulled out the three dollars inside.

Todd grabbed them. "Thanks for the coffee, buddy," he told David as he walked away. He whistled to himself and muttered, “Geez, how much is Dorian paying you, man?”

David slumped his shoulders and collected his supplies. He was not going to hang any more campaign posters today.



Amelia stood beside the camera as the photographer posed Langston on one side of the door with a suitcase. She wore a yellow polka-dotted raincoat and carried a matching umbrella. Dorian stood on the other side of the half-opened door prop with her hand on the doorknob.

"Now smile welcomingly," the photographer instructed, snapping a few shots as Dorian and Langston shared cheesy smiles.

"Dorian," Langston protested, trying not to move her lips. "This is really lame!"

Amelia secretly agreed.

Dorian spun, ruining one of the shots. "She's right. I'm paying you for a family portrait that showcases our mother-daughter relationship here -- not a tacky publicity shot." She put her hands on her hips, raising her brows at the photographer accusingly.

"You said colorful and creative? …Let's move to the next pose," the photographer relented, trying to keep them appeased. He led them to a baby blue wingback chair where Dorian sat, poised like a queen. Langston slipped out of the raincoat, revealing her pink dress, and stood behind her, her hands folded neatly on the back of the chair.

The photographer instructed them on how to hold their shoulders and turn their chins and tossed a couple of Langston's long locks over her shoulder before stepping back to snap more pictures. Dorian and Langston were both more pleased with the pose, and seemed to relax and smile more genuinely.

Amelia crossed her arms and waited for a few moments. "I like this," she offered diplomatically, causing Dorian to sit up a bit straighter and lift her chin a bit higher. "She looks very authoritative and intelligent, and it is pretty obvious that there is a mother-daughter bond there…."

"But?" Dorian asked as the photographer paused.

"Don't get me wrong," Amelia explained, "I could really see this picture hanging in your living room, but I just think it would be much better to show some affection between the two of you. This set-up is just … a little bit formal - almost … conservative."

"What if we held hands?" Dorian reached out and pulled Langston another step forward, grabbing the girl’s hand in one of her own and patting it with the other as they both smiled at the camera for a few more pictures.

"That's lovely," Amelia smiled brightly at them. "But what if you hugged?"

Dorian looked up at Langston questioningly and Langston smiled affirmatively as the photography managed to snap a shot of them smiling at one another.

Amelia rushed forward and dragged the chair out of the shot, leaving only a soft white background.

Langston and Dorian regarded each other for a moment and then wrapped their arms around each other warmly. Langston seemed to be filled with reassurance, while Dorian closed her eyes and relished the moment, soaking it up like a sponge. It was a warm moment.

Amelia cocked her head sidewise in thought as she watched. It was obvious that the pair cared deeply about each other. She nodded a few times. "I think that's good."

Langston continued to hug Dorian as she turned to the photographer, mostly because Dorian had not released her. "Can we see it?"

He nodded and the three women crowded around the digital screen on the camera.

"I'll be able to email you a larger proof in a couple of hours."

Dorian lingered on the image as the other two stepped away, satisfied. She squinted at the screen, wondering if she had blinked or closed her eyes.

Amelia furrowed her brows as Langston dug in her purse for her cell phone. "Dorian, we have that meeting with the factory workers union?" she reminded.

Dorian nodded quietly and retrieved her purse, but stopped and waited for Langston to finish sending a text message. "Sweetheart?"

Langston shut her phone and placed it back in her handbag. "Markko traded shifts with this guy who needed Monday evening off and he wants to go to the movies," she explained.

"Langston," Dorian protested, "what about the article?"

"Pfft, no problem," Langston satisfied, waving her hand in front of her. "I've already got it mostly finished. I just need to go back over it a couple of times and smooth out the wrinkles." She checked her watch. "I still have, like, four hours before I meet him. Trust me," she grinned, reassuring, "it will be in your hands for your editorial comments before I leave."

Dorian beamed and tucked Langston's hair behind her ear adoringly. "Meet you back home then."



David entered the campaign headquarters that Dorian had taken over after Mayor Lowell was arrested and tossed his jacket and a stack of posters onto an empty table, frustrated.

Blair rushed forward, looking over the stack disapprovingly. "David, you were supposed to hang those up!"

"The last time I checked, I was the deputy campaign manager, and you were a volunteer," he sneered.

Blair growled at him. "The last time I checked, it was your job to help Dorian get elected, which means hanging up posters!"

"Oh yeah? Well the last time I checked, you were my ex-step-daughter-slash-niece.” He spoke slowly to make sure he got it right. “Show some respect." He grabbed the stack of posters and pushed them into her arms.

Blair took the posters and put her hands on her hips. She declined to bring up the fact that she was David's ex-step-grandmother. "You know what? I don't have time for your juvenile games, David. You don't want to hang the posters? Fine. Find someone who will." She shoved them back into his arms and returned to a desk where she had been folding fliers to put on car windshields.

David looked around and found a wimpy looking kid with old glasses. "You," he pointed. "Make a difference in the world." He handed the kid the posters before following Blair.

"I just ran into Todd," he informed her.

Blair blinked up at him. "Oh?"

"Yeah… he was taking pictures of me for the paper." David sat down on the edge of the desk and fiddled with the pictures of Jack, Sam, Starr and Langston that Dorian had sitting around.

Blair looked at him skeptically. "Todd was taking pictures of you," she nodded, disbelieving. "Why, because you're such a great deputy campaign manager? So great, in fact, that Dorian leaves you here to be a thorn in my side while I do your job for you and she and Amelia go gallivanting all over town?"

"No," David frowned, his feelings slightly hurt by the idea she presented. "Actually, it was because he caught our campaign defacing public property - again." He crossed his arms and stiffened his back. "But don't worry. I paid him off."

Blair glared at him. "David! What did you do? Now he'll just publish that you bribed him on top of it all!"

David stood and turned to her, suddenly worried. "Do you really think he'll do that?”

Blair frowned at him. "Think about it, David. Thinking - you know what that is, right?" she grinned, cutely, teasing him. "Or would that hurt your brain cells…?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," he cut her off. "I know I can always count on you for a condescending comment, Blair. That's what I like about you. You're always so reliable."

She faked a grin at him and he smiled back, rolling his eyes slightly.

“That’s right. I am reliable … unlike some people.” She handed him a stack of papers. “Fold. I’m going to go fix this mess.”

A/N: Remember that by this point Amelia has been researching Dorian's past. It doesn't necessarily factor in right now, but stay tuned.

Am I posting too slowly, making it hard to remember what has happened in the story so far? This is a quick scene, so I'll probably post the next chapter soon.

Chapter Three – No More Babies

"Langston!" Dorian called out as she and Amelia returned to La Boulaie late that evening. The sky outside had darkened and the temperature had fallen. There was a stillness in the air that was broken the minute Dorian walked in the door.

Amelia took Dorian’s coat and hung it in the closet as Starr rushed down the stairs to the landing, standing just in front of the campaign poster that covered the painting hanging on the wall. "Aunt Dorian, please don't shout. I just got Hope to sleep!" she whispered loudly.

Dorian balled her fist and pressed it to her forehead. "I'm sorry, honey,” she apologized sincerely. “I keep forgetting."

Starr slumped her shoulders, exasperated. "Old habits die hard, I guess." She relented to an apologetic look from her aunt. "It's alright. She's probably getting used to sleeping through all the shouting around here anyway."

"Starr, is Langston still home?" Dorian asked, calmly.

"She left about a half-hour ago, but she left her article for you in the sitting room. It's really good," she smiled, disappearing back upstairs.

Dorian pulled her gloves off and tossed them onto the table as she rushed to the other room to find Langston's article.

"Do you mind if I stay and read through it, too?" Amelia asked, interested, her own coat draped over her arm.

"Of course not -- please do!" Dorian nodded, obviously happy for the opportunity to showcase Langston's writing talent.

It was bound in a purple folder with a sticky note attached to the front. "Sorry I missed you," Dorian read to herself. "Hope the meeting went well. Let me know if it needs more -- or if I said too much." The note was signed with a large cursive "L" and a heart shape.

Dorian flipped the folder open and read silently for a minute, standing in the middle of the floor, so anxious to read the article that she didn't sit down. Amelia smiled as she tried to interpret the expressions on Dorian's face.

Dorian pursed her lips and exhaled slowly, pausing to look up at the corner of the ceiling for a moment. Tears came to her eyes and she pretended to pace as she turned her back to Amelia and continued to read.

Amelia took the hint and pulled out her laptop, sitting at the small desk near the doors and acting as though she were not paying attention to Dorian. "Is it good?" she asked casually, waiting a few moments after Dorian had apparently finished reading.

Dorian bit her lip and nodded, dabbing her eye with the edge of her sleeve before turning back around. She spoke in a near whisper. "She said I was as devoted and passionate as her biological mother," she gestured at the paper, "and that she could not imagine being in any other family." Dorian smiled at Amelia, obviously moved to silence.

Amelia smiled back at her, changing the subject in order to draw attention away from Dorian’s emotions. "The proofs are online if you want to check them out."

She offered Dorian her laptop in exchange for the folder.

Dorian sat down softly at the nearby desk and gazed at the computer screen, scrolling with the arrow keys on the keyboard.

Langston had been right about the first pose. Though she was sure she had nailed the "welcoming smile" that the photographer had asked for, it looked very contrived -- almost like a poster for a musical comedy – very retro and adorable in its own right, but not what they wanted.

She felt a tinge of headache and took a deep breath as she scrolled down the page of pictures, which all had neat, strategically placed watermarks.

She adored the second picture, in which she and Langston really looked like family, with the matriarch seated in front and the doting daughter poised, supporting, just above her on the left. It was a traditional, almost Victorian pose. Langston's hair fell lightly over her shoulder, capturing a hint of innocence and youth still lingering in the sophisticated young lady. When Dorian saw the shot in which she and Langston had smiled at each other, she was sure she wanted to order it and managed to use the scroll pad to click the check box next to the picture.

She looked around at Amelia, who was leaning on the back of the sofa as she read Langston’s article. She inspected Amelia’s expression, and decided it was an expression of interest.

Dorian nodded subconsciously as she moved to the next couple of pictures – the ones in which she and Langston were hugging. They were nearly identical, except that in the second one, her own eyes were closed.

Her brows furrowed as she examined the picture, realizing that she had been standing slightly on her own tip-toes and that Langston had bent her knees a bit to compensate for a very slight difference in height that had been exacerbated by the taller heels in Langston's shoes.

Her head tilted to the side and her eyes squinted as she examined the picture further. It appeared that both of them had hugged each other with open palms, firmly placed on each other’s backs as they had wrapped their arms around each other, with one of her own hands straying to softly touch the back of Langston's head. Their chins crossed each other's shoulders, the sides of their heads touching, but each bent forward just enough that both of their profiles were visible in the photograph.

Langston was smiling and looking up as if in love or inspired -- almost as if there were white fluffy clouds or angels hovering nearby. Her own eyes were closed, seemingly in grateful prayer or silent love as she relished the tender moment in her daughter's arms.

Dorian's breath caught in her lungs. It was absolutely beautiful.

She stared at for a while, carefully controlling her emotions, until she suddenly noticed Amelia standing over her, watching.

Slightly startled, she offered her first thought. "I want this picture on billboards," she said quietly.

Amelia smiled warmly and lingered over the desk beside Dorian, leaning forward, somewhat concerned. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine. A little tired. What did you think of Langston's article?"

Amelia nodded, laying the folder down next to Dorian and taking the laptop to the nearby sofa. "It's great. I want to sit down with her sometime tomorrow and elaborate on some of the points she made, if that's okay."

Dorian nodded slowly. "Why not tonight?"

"When do you expect her home?" Amelia looked around.

"Oh," Dorian sighed, holding her head back a little as she checked her watch. "Well … she seems to come home later and later anymore." She scowled a little bit, disappointed. "Ever since Markko and Cole got that apartment."

"Are you sure you're alright?" Amelia asked again. "You seem a bit … on edge? I hope it isn't about those press hounds at the meeting earlier."

Dorian sighed in the direction of the laptop. "Langston is all grown up."

Amelia wondered, looking back and forth between the computer and Dorian's expression. She waited a few hesitant moments, questioning the wheels turning in her own mind before making her suggestion. "Did you ever think about adopting another child?"

Dorian jerked, taken aback by Amelia's suggestion. Her initial response was, "Of course not. I love my girls … my family … and the last thing we need….” She paused in thought.

Amelia lifted her brows. "You do love children. I know adoption and foster care are of concern, and it would be good to pull attention away from this whole marriage thing."

Dorian stood and crossed the floor to look out at the darkened terrace as she spoke. Her voice was terse. "Not to mention -- yes, detracting attention from our gay marriage, but putting the focus right back on gay families and parental rights." She shot an accusing gaze over her shoulder at Amelia.

"It would be putting the focus on family values. Your very strong family values," Amelia tried to convince her, pointing at Langston's editorial.

Dorian slapped the top of the table next to her, rattling the number of small, framed pictures and knick-knacks on it. "Amelia, you're forgetting, aren't you? That we -- you and I,” she gestured between them, “-- are lesbians together….” She shook her head and threw her hands in the air, exasperated.

"Oh, that's right," Amelia argued sarcastically, nodding her head at Dorian dramatically. "Right, even if we wanted to adopt a child together…."

"Oh, cut the crap, Amelia," Dorian scolded heatedly. "Face the facts. No matter what I do -- no matter how well intentioned -- at this point, it is all going to be seen as one big, fat, gay, political agenda! And that part … is not-my-fault." She ran the last three words together, emphasizing them.

Amelia turned, propping a foot under herself so she could sit and face Dorian. "How does that feel to you?" she asked gently. "To know that just because people see you as a lesbian, everything you do is defined by that?"

Dorian paused and looked down at her fingernails. "Point made," she swallowed. "But." She lifted a finger in the air. "If I ever adopted, it would be out of love -- not for any agenda or election." She paused in thought. "Besides, it would be a far better strategy to adopt right before my second term, and use it to get re-elected."

"Yep," Amelia nodded, amused and grinning slightly.

Dorian frowned again, annoyed at herself for entertaining the thought. "I have a headache…. And I need chocolate."

She reminded herself not to shout as she headed for the kitchen.

Amelia massaged her own forehead in thought as she turned to order the photographs on her laptop. Dorian drove her crazy sometimes, but it could be endearing when it wasn't infuriating.

The pacing is fine for me. I feel as though in reading this the groundwork is being laid, the relationships are being established at this point so I have a strong sense of the characters and their disposition and mentality in relation to Dorian. Thank you for taking the time to write the story. I do have a request and that is you find a way to work "Kiteflyer's Hill" into your story as a special place for Dorian and Ray since I just made the mvid about it holding memories of their romance. Also, I don't know what your future plans are with your writing but if you could have Cassie, Adriana and Herb mentioned in some way even if they are not showing up in Llanview. I am interested in their thoughts, feelings about what is happening with Dorian.

Again Jae, great attention to detail of Dorian's thoughts and feelings. ie "Dorian frowning and annoyed at herself for entertaining the thought" (for using an adoption to seize her second term, etc).

I like that stuff. I like that before Dorian was written in such a way that you could read her complicated feelings about herself and others just by Strasser's face expressoins. Not that I still can't, b/c at times I still can sense that brilliance through the horrid writing as of late. I'm just saying that before when Dorian was written with so much more care, like the way you're writing her, the viewer could more easily pick up on Dorian's emotions that lay just under the surface of her actions; emotions that sort of contradicted her actual actions.

Ahhhh, she is just writer's dream. A character of such gorgeous complexity. Thanks for writing this!

ps. I imagine a primetime show too. My fantasy show is about the Cramer women, their past, their present lives and loves. The central character is Dorian of course. There is NOTHING like this on tv. I don't know why someone hasn't written it or hasn't thought about it or mentioned it, or maybe they have and the network has shut down such an idea. It would be a HIT if done properly.

I can definitely do that. The really stupid thing is that it should be so easy to mention all these things. (So there is no reason they don't do this on the show more often.) I just have a few questions, cause I don't know these things:

In "Kiteflyer's Hill" were you making their date be in London or someplace around Llanview?

The last time I heard anything about Adriana, Layla was saying that she had sold their lingerie company. Is Adriana in Paris?

When was the last time Cassie was mentioned and where is she? Is she still in Switzerland? Is she by herself? I honestly have no clue what happened to her.

I think that is exactly what originally made me take notice of Dorian and realize that a person named Robin Strasser existed. And, yes, it was during the infamous Buddhist storyline. I'm almost positive that it was the day Dorian contacted Delphina to find out where David was, and I was asking myself, "What is this woman up to?" She was dressed to kill, and then David came in and was a Buddhist and was smashing her priceless vases to show her that material things didn't matter, and she was livid, but at the same time she couldn't be because she wanted to seduce David and get him to marry her. Then through the course of the story, she ended up really falling back in love with him, leading up to the wedding where she prayed to Buddha and both confessed her devious actions and admitted that she cared. One minute she was nearly in tears because she didn't want to lose David if he found out the truth, and the next minute she was chanting about being a Buchanan. It was short lived, but it was that depth that made me go, "OMIGAWD-DORIAN-ROBIN STRASSER."

It can be whatever and wherever you want depending on the story you attach to it. Surprise me. The real Kiteflyer's Hill is in London but this one can be in Llanview if you choose. It's all fiction.

To my knowledge and last mention on the show--yes.

Cassie is working for a newspaper in Savannah. River is attending school at Julliard. He is a musical genius like his grandfather David, though at this point he is likely a graduate.

Robin has the ability to play various emotions and switch gears brillantly. I think that is what hooks me on her acting. She always has several things going on at once with the character no matter the writing. It is even more fascinating when she has a story, decent dialogue and co-stars who give back to her in a scene. Just more for her to work with. And work she does, right down to the wardrobe.
Thank you for your willingness to incorporate my suggestions.

I knew River went to Julliard, but I can't remember how I knew that, and yeah, I think you are right about him probably being a graduate. It totally weirds me out that Dorian could have a grandkid that old! What does he call her? "Grandma?"

I have one grandmother who says, "Viki is more my style," (even though she secretly loves Dorian and won't admit it) and another grandma who made me cry the other day because she completely disapproves of my lifestyle decisions and thinks she can control me with... waitaminute... maybe she IS like Dorian. The conservative Christian alter-ego of Dorian! Dear God....

I think he called her grandma when he was younger but now I think he calls her Dorian. Someone correct me if I'm wrong.

Have they read any of your writings about Dorian or watched your videos?

Um, no.