"Please, Vivian," Abby pleaded with the lump under the white, faux fur mink blanket. "You've been in this room for days now."

"Leave me alone," came the mumbled gravelly voice of Vivian, curled on her velvet chaise lounge.

Abby winced at the reply. Vivian sounded like Harvey Fierstein on a good day, but the croaked sound of her voice today was enough to douse her in heavy guilt. Remorse or not, it was time to get Vivian back to the land of the living. Even if she had to pull her there kicking and screaming by her feathered boa.

Shaking her head to the muffled response, Abby realized the lump under the blanket probably wouldn't be able to see it. "No. Now, that's enough of the pouting," she said firmly.

She walked over to the Victorian flamingo pink curtains with more tassels than a stripper in Vegas and yanked them open, allowing the sun to penetrate the stuffy confines of Vivian's boudoir. Stale cigarette smoke lingered like ghostly wisps of puffs past, making her sneeze. Reaching for the window, she forced it open to allow some fresh air in and the smog to escape.

The light glinted off the hundreds of silver framed pictures containing black and white photos of Vivian with famous actors and actresses of a bygone era. Abby walked around and picked up random snapshots of the past. One with Vivian wearing a rhinestone, fringed western getup, pointing a six shooter playfully at a smiling John Wayne. While another portrayed her and Jerry Lewis clowning it up for the camera.

Abby ran a finger over the elegant frame containing a photo of Vivian and Judy Garland on stage somewhere belting out a long forgotten song. So many memories of an amazing life, she thought. A smile played on her lips as she took in the image of a young, animated Vivian and Dean Martin toasting the camera.

But the one photo which took the spotlight and had a prominent spot of honor on her vanity, was an 8x10 glossy of Vivian and her demigoddess...Joan Crawford. The woman worshiped everything to do with the starlet, including her bouts of temperamental bad behavior, Abby thought as she surveyed the room suffering from the aftermath of one of those tantrums. Hurricane Vivian had struck with a vengeance.

Her bedroom was a pink, fringy, ruffled and lacy nightmare, complete with a princess bed in the middle with towering heavy, pink drapes gracing either side. The bedding had been ripped off and lay scattered. Victimized throw pillows lay where they had been hurled, along with what seemed to be the entire contents of her dresser drawers. Abby sighed and started picking up disseminated clothing.

One wall was a gigantic floor to ceiling shelving unit which held hundreds of wigs. The one empty Styrofoam head, made her wince with guilt. Dolly Parton number 36 sat in a tangled heap on the floor. Scooping it up, Abby gently laid it next to the bald blank face. Somehow, it didn't seem right to put it on the mannequin in the shape it was in. To her right was Vivian's closet, stuffed beyond maximum capacity normally, it was purging forth sequins and all manner of bedazzled fashions now as if she had clawed her way through it.

Abby was in the process of plucking silk stockings off the chandelier and emptying over flowing ashtrays when Jo Jo entered on four inch spiked, florescent orange heels, skinny jeans and an oversized sweater which looked deceptively ratty and worn, but was the latest in fashion. He managed to maneuver his way around the many obstacles carrying a silver tea tray with petite porcelain cups and a teapot which, knowing Vivian, had been used by the actual Queen of England or something.

Jealousy at Jo Jo's easy grace made her want to stick her toe out and trip him up just out of spite. It was completely and utterly unfair that a man should be able to wear those kinds of shoes with the flare and style he did when she was lucky to make it four steps in tennis shoes without tripping over her own two feet.

Limping over to the hamper on her still tender ankle which was a constant reminder of how ungainly she could be, she dumped the stockings onto the over flowing pile of laundry. The gathered crystal ashtrays, she placed on the vandalized dresser by the door so they could be scrubbed out later.

Sighing, she put her hands and her hips and glared at the lump who had not budged an inch. "Vivian? Jo Jo brought you a lovely tea," she enticed sweetly in hopes of coaxing her out from under her furry refuge.

"I don't want tea," the lump replied grouchily.

"Are you sure, dear?" Jo Jo piped up, flipping his bangs out of his eyes with a practiced sweep. "I brought bagels," he sang as he lowered himself and the tray onto the edge of the chaise, crossing his legs delicately at the ankle.

Jo Jo was the epitome of feminine elegance. He had it all, lean body, natural bleach blond hair and eyes so blue they made the sky weep with envy. As a man, he was a real looker, but as a woman...he was absolutely gorgeous and could sing Cher better than the diva herself. There wasn't a time since she had known him when he didn't look unquestionably perfect.

Abby sighed, catching a look of herself in the vanity mirror wearing her old pair of yoga pants and ragged Jaguar high school jersey. If he wasn't her best friend, she would have happily strangled him at the moment with one of Vivian's silk scarves.

A small tuff of grey hair popped out from under the fur. "What kind of bagels?"

"The ones that have everything on them but the kitchen sink from Moe's," Jo Jo answered setting the tray on a little plush footstool Abby slid over next to the lounge.

More hair appeared along with a wrinkled forehead. "Cream cheese?"

"For you, dear, only the best from the deli down on 23rd." Jo Jo winked at Abby.

Two little long lashed, narrowed green eyes painted in teal blue eyeshadow and heavily charcoaled with eyeliner, appeared. "Cookies?"

"I baked a batch of those lemon cookies you love so much," Abby smiled, dragging the vanity chair over to the couch, she sat down and gently tugged on the white fur blanket until the rest of her head appeared.

Vivian sat up with a flourish, running cubic zirconia bejeweled hands through her hair. Smoothing it to perfection. Around her neck, hung a vintage necklace featuring "diamonds" of various lengths hanging from a gem studded chain. Matching earrings, dangled and glinted from her lobes as she adjusted her pink, satin robe trimmed with luxurious feathers.

"Somebody has been playing possum," Abby laughed as she took in the sight of Vivian in full Hollywood make-up.

"Whatever do you mean, darling." Vivian asked, the darling sounding more like "daaah-ling".

Reaching for her silver cigarette case, she pulled one out and tapped it delicately before placing it into a rhinestone encrusted cigarette holder which was about a mile long. Leaning forward, Vivian waited patiently for Jo Jo to light the end with a crystal lighter from the tray. Placing the tip between her red lips, Vivian puffed and blew out a cloud of smoke, batting long fake eyelashes innocently at Abby.

"I think she mean's we weren't expecting to find you ready for your close-up." Jo Jo rolled his eyes, fluttering his hand in the air as he poured tea with a proficient grace before handing her a delicate rose colored cup.

"Does this mean you forgive me for ruining your wig," Abby asked hopefully, accepting her own cup.

Once Viv learned what had happened to one of her precious wigs, she went into full Mommy Dearest mode over the ruined hair piece...ending with locking herself in her bedroom.

Vivian added four lumps of sugar to her tea, stirring it slowly with a dainty silver spoon and smiled. "Oh, I had forgiven you days ago." She waved dismissively as she took a small sip.

"Then why have you been holed up in your room?" Jo Jo arched a perfect brow.

Vivian nabbed a cookie off the tray and bit into it, sighing in pleasure. "I was waiting for cookies," she replied between mouthfuls. "Took you long enough," she sniffed while reaching for a second.

Abby sat there with her mouth agape for a moment before she broke down in laughter. Setting her cup down, she reached out giving Vivian a hug. "I'm sorry. If I had known it would have gotten me out of the doghouse, I would have made you a truckload of cookies before I came home."

Vivian patted her arm with her gnarled arthritic hand. "I'm sorry too, darling. I shouldn't have lost my temper like that." She smiled sheepishly. "I am just glad you're alright and safe."

"Are you sure I can't replace it or wash it?" Abby had asked that very same question when she got home, but...when Viv was in full drama queen destruction, there was no reasoning with her. "Maybe I could take it to your beauty salon or the dry-cleaners?"

Vivian giggled. "Mr. Woo would probably try to starch it."

"And you'll end up looking like David Bowie from Labyrinth." Jo Jo shuddered.

"Hey! I should have you know, I loved him as the Goblin King," Abby defended, reaching for a bagel smothered in creamy goodness. "I had a huge vintage poster of him in my bedroom when I was younger." She was about to take a bite, when she noticed his look of horror. "What?" She shrugged. "I thought he was sexy."

After helping Vivian put her room back to some semblance of order and doing six loads of laundry, Abby finally flopped down on the futon in the living room with a book to relax. It was her last day off before she hobbled back to work tomorrow night and she was going to take full advantage of soon having an empty house all to herself.

Vivian emerged from her room dressed in full old Hollywood regalia and left for the evening in a cloud of White Diamonds to catch a showing of the classic 1963 film Cleopatra down at the community center. Jo Jo was in the process of packing up his gear for his act tonight at the Kit Cat Club and was warming up his vocals on Cher's song Half Breed...for the fifth time. Abby cringed. The silence couldn't come soon enough.

Even though there were days she wanted to pull her hair out if she had to listen to one more Cher song or watch one more episode of some silly reality show, she considered herself fortunate.

She'd been on her own for more years than she would like to remember and it was nice to have a family, even if it was an odd one. Being an only child, she had always wanted a brother or a sister. With Jo Jo, she had the best of both worlds and Vivian was like the delightful crazy Aunt who let you have candy for breakfast and snuck you sips of her beer when nobody was looking.

It was cramped, her bedroom being the futon in the living room, but it was never dull and full of love. Plus, with Jo Jo and her living there, they were able to keep an eye on Vivian which allowed her to remain in her home rather than be shipped off to some nursing home somewhere for her...eclectic...behavior.

Most days she was as sharp as a tack, but there were those times when Vivian could be rather forgetful. Like the time she decided to boil eggs and forgot about them. Who knew eggs would explode like that? Abby was still finding bits of shell shrapnel embedded in the strangest places. It was the Hiroshima of cooking disasters which ended with the kitchen needing to be repainted.

Like any family, there were fights and bickering, but Abby wouldn't have it any other way. She really struck gold the night Jo Jo found her huddled under the awning of the Kit Cat Club shivering in the rain. He picked her up, helped her get a job and convinced Vivian to allow her to live with them. Not only did he save her that day, he also broke down her defenses and became her rock to cling to in the storm that was her life.

Speak of the devil, as if on que...Jo Jo entered the living room in a fanfare wearing a full beautiful Indian headdress and high heeled moccasins complete with intricate bead work and fringe instead of the neon orange pair of earlier. Where he found six inch stilettoed moccasins was a mystery to her.

"You're going to wear that on the bus?" she asked watching him deposit his gym bag by the door.

"Don't be silly, baby doll. Trevor is picking me up in an hour." He eased himself down on the couch beside her. "Although...now that you've given me the idea, I just might one of these days. Who knows, I could catch me a sexy Indian chief with this thing." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"Or a 72 hour stint in the observation holding tank at the loony bin," Abby snorted.

"You're just grumpy because it's Saturday night and you have nowhere to go, Cinderella," he joked, poking her in the ribs.

"I have a date tonight." She held up her book. "I and Maximus Davenport, the scoundrel Duke of Clarington are going to bed together and I am going to allow him to have his wicked way with me."

Jo Jo grabbed the book out of her hand, flipping through the pages. "How many times have you read this thing? Don't you have it memorized by now?"

"You can never read a classic too many times," she laughed, snatching her book back.

"Oh yes, that bodice ripper ranks right up there with Wuthering Heights." He rolled his eyes. "If you hadn't blown it with Steele, you could be cuddled up the Lordship of Billionaire Bad Boys instead of some make believe crusty Duke."

"Book boyfriends are better than real ones."

Abby blushed at the memory of being snuggled up to Adam. She had spent the whole night with her body wrapped around his, something she was unlikely to ever forget, even with Jo Jo's constant reminders which were making her regret telling him everything.

"Besides, I didn't blow anything."

"Obviously," Jo Jo scoffed. "Otherwise, we wouldn't be having this discussion and you wouldn't be sitting here all alone on Saturday night. Nothing seals a second date like a well-executed blowjob."

"Jo Jo! You're disgusting." Abby smacked him with her book.

"What?" He shrugged. "It's not like your some inexperienced delicate flower. I'm just saying you should have taken the chance Abby. It's not every day tall, dark and sexy runs into your life."

"Runs me over, is more like it."

"He took you home."

"So?"

"Come on, baby doll. Don't be so dense. A man like Adam Steele only brings women home for one reason."

"To make sure they don't press charges?" Abby batted her eyelashes innocently.

"Fine, be that way. Be the martyr and live the rest of your days hiding in the shadows until you become old and feeble like Vivian. Surrounded with nothing but your past, cat figurines and old romance books to remind you of what could have been." Jo Jo stood up in an indignant huff, adjusting his feathers.

"Now you're just being beeshey," Abby muttered.

"It's for your own good."

"You know damn well why I can't be with anyone and having random sex isn't going to make that reason go away!" she snapped, throwing her book down on the futon.

"Yes, I do know!" He kneeled down in front of her and grabbed one of her hands. "But I also know a chance with Steele was a once in a lifetime opportunity. At some point in time, baby doll, you have to take your life back and if having one passionate night of sex gets you moving in that direction...hell yeah, I am all for it!" He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Adam Steele is a man who can take care of himself. He's not Roger."

"I won't let what happened to him happen to anyone else."

"You don't know what really became of him," Jo Jo said quietly. "There's no proof he's dead. What if all this time, you've been mourning something that never happened?"

"I don't need proof...I know," she choked, angrily wiping a stray tear.

Jo Jo sighed and folded her into his arms, hugging her fiercely. "I hate seeing you like this, but I hate the thought of you being alone for the rest of your life too. If you keep living in fear, baby doll, you are going to miss those special moments and that bastard wins." Jo Jo pulled back and looked at her intently, his blue eyes ablaze. "Don't let him win, Abby. Take back your life." He shook her shoulders lightly. "You have friends here, lots of them. You are not alone anymore.

She gave him a trembling smile. "I know."

"Besides, we drag queens have been known to be very viscous when one of ours is threatened. And if he manages to get past our Aqua Net of terror, then there's always Trevor. You have him wrapped around your little finger and he's bigger and badder than that stepfather of yours." Jo Jo winked and stood back up readjusting his headdress. "Trevor will use him as his personal piñata if he dares lay one finger on you."

Abby giggled. "Now there's something I'd pay to see."

"Me too." Jo Jo fanned himself. "That man is so hot when he's all riled up and feisty."

"Don't tell me you have a crush on Trevor?" Abby teased.

He sighed. "I keep hoping one day he will discover there's a gay man hiding underneath all that muscle," he said pensively. "If there's a way to turn that mister into a sister...I'll find it."

"You can always dream."

"And so can you, baby doll." Jo Jo smiled down at her. "Promise me the next time your fairy Godmother moment comes, you won't pull a Forrest Gump and run away?"

Abby laughed. "I promise. The next time Prince Charming comes knocking on the door, I'm going to answer it in nothing but a come hither smile." She crossed her heart.

"And a thong...men can't resist a lady in a thong."

"How would you know?"

"I wasn't always a gay man, sweetie. I tried going straight once."

"How did that work out for you?"

Jo Jo shivered. "It was the most traumatic 20 minutes of my life," he said, falling dramatically on the futon with his arm tossed over his head.

A loud persistent knocking on the door, interrupted their giggles.

"I'll get it." Jo Jo jumped up. "It's probably Trevor." He winked at Abby and made quick work of making himself perfectly presentable as he sashayed his way to the door.

He looked through the peep hole, paused...and then looked again.

The way he was acting, made panic start to snake its way up her throat. "Who is it?"

"Did you happen to wash any thongs today?" Jo Jo turned around with a huge grin on his face. "Because it's Prince Charming, Cinderella."

I wanted to take this time to thank you for reading! I really hope you enjoyed this installment of Bending Steele, and that you'll consider giving it a vote. I can't tell you how much your support means to me and how much it motivates me to keep going.

If you find any errors along the way, don't be afraid to point them out and I always enjoy any recommendations or critiques you may have. As always, I will try and update once a week, usually on Thursdays, but if you don't see an update here, check out my other story When Roses Collide. Thanks again!