Two months after giving birth, Lindsey thought about making a t-shirt that said, "The Baby Is Fine". Of course, most baby queries came via phone, so ultimately the shirt was worthless, but at least it would give her a creative outlet for her frustration. It wasn't that she hated talking about the baby, not at all. She could give an hour-long dissertation on how the baby's spit-up noises meant that he was destined to be President. It was just that everyone assumed she had nothing to say that didn't involve the baby. Like when she'd called Jimmy to tell him Jamia had given her a demo by a new band called Little Pandas, and they had totally blown her away, Jimmy had replied with, "Great. So how's the baby?"

The baby was sleeping when Gerard's phone trilled, indicating a new text message. Gerard was out at Ray's. Lindsey silenced it quickly, before it could wake the baby. The message read, phone i have lost you where you are :(. Lindsey texted back, at home g. He replied, thank you ilu.

The baby was feeding when the next text came in. I HATE YOU, it read. It was from an unfamiliar L.A. area code, so Lindsey just assumed it was a wrong number, and brought the baby back upstairs to see if he would nap.

When she returned to the living room there was another text from the same number: choke on a dick and die you phony motherfucker. And really, there was only one person who that could be.

Lindsey went up to her bedroom, pulled a box out from under her bed, and dug through it until she found the notebook she'd carried with her during MSI's first world tour. She found the number she was looking for, put the box away, and dialed her phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Alison?" Lindsey asked. "This is Lindsey from Mindless Self Indulgence. We met in Australia a while back."

"Lindsey, of course, it's good to hear from you," Alison said. "Um, I'm not doing bookings anymore, but I can give you Steve's number -"

"Actually, this is more personal," Lindsey said. "I think our husbands might have some unresolved issues."

There was a pause before Alison replied. "That's right. You married Gerard Way."

"Yeah," Lindsey said. "And Bert just texted him."

"I'm sorry," Alison said. "He's drunk. I'll tell him to behave."

"No, it's okay," Lindsey said. "It's just that it's been a long time since they were...involved, and I don't want to be in the middle of some juvenile feud anymore. Maybe we can get them together to clear all this up."

"Mmhm," Alison said. "And do you envision them fighting or fucking it out?"

"Either one," Lindsey replied. "Probably both."

"We're in New York tomorrow," Alison said. "Just a quick meeting with an agent and then we'll have the evening free."

Lindsey got the hotel address from Alison and they agreed to meet in the lobby at 8pm. When Gerard got home, Lindsey told him she'd made plans to visit an old college friend in Manhattan, and Gerard called his mother to ask her to babysit.

The next day they had dinner in a nice restaurant in midtown Manhattan, and were recognized twice. Gerard signed a few autographs, and one of the fans asked Lindsey, "How's the baby?"

"I ate him," Lindsey replied. "Like a hamster."

"Hamsters don't eat their babies," Gerard said.

"They do if they're possessed by zombie Hitler."

Gerard gasped. "Oh my god. Can I use that?"

After dinner they walked to the hotel. Lindsey texted Alison that they were there, and Alison texted back a room number. When they got to the room, Alison answered the door.

"Hi," she said. "I'm Alison."

"Gerard," he said, extending his hand. "You know Lindsey from college?"

Alison and Lindsey exchanged a look. "Why don't you come in?" Alison said.

They walked through the living room area of the suite and into the bedroom. Gerard got all the way into the room before he recognized the figure lying on the bed.

"What the..." Gerard said.

Bert sat up. "Is this some kind of reverse intervention where you invite over people that I hate and I promise to stop drinking if they go away?"

Alison straightened her small frame up authoritatively. "Whatever problems you two have, it ends tonight. I'm sick of every album having one song about me and six about Gerard."

"And I'm not going to explain to our child why there's a song on the radio about his daddy sucking cock," Lindsey added. "You're both staying in this hotel room until you work out your differences."

"Or what?" Bert asked with a sneer.

Alison glared at him, and he instantly deflated.

Lindsey just had to glance at Gerard and he was nodding his agreement.

"We'll be back around midnight," Lindsey said.

Alison waved as they walked out of the bedroom. "Try not to get blood on the carpet." She closed the door behind them.

"So what do you want to do?" Alison asked once they were alone in the living room.

Lindsey smiled. "Something totally irresponsible."

Alison picked up a bottle off the counter and shoved it inside a paper bag. "Let's get wasted and see the Statue of Liberty."

They passed the bottle between them on the subway ride downtown.

"You ever hear of Little Pandas?" Lindsey asked.

Alison spun around in her seat so fast she nearly dropped the bottle. "Are you fucking kidding me? I love that band."

Lindsey put her hand on Alison's knee. "Alison, if I don't tour with that band, it's going to fucking kill me. I'm going to implode like a dying star."

Alison put her hand over Lindsey's. "I saw them in L.A., and I offered to blow the singer if they'd open for The Used. But the singer's gay, so I offered to let him fuck Bert, but Bert was passed out, and I was like, 'Fuck him anyway. He won't notice.' And now the whole band thinks I'm a rapist."

"Skeleton Crew has their demo," Lindsey said. "I can maybe get to them through Jamia."

Alison took a sip from the bottle and passed it to Lindsey. "Imagine," she said. "Little Pandas. Mindless Self Indulgence. The Used. My Chemical Romance."

Lindsey slammed her hand down on the subway seat, sloshing some liquor over the knee of her jeans. "Fucking epic!" she yelled. "You still have contacts at Reprise?"

Alison took her phone out of her pocket and stood up. "Paul," she said when someone answered. "It's Alison. I'm here with Lindsey Way, Gerard Way, Quinn Allman, Jimmy Urine, Frank Iero, and a bunch of other very important people. We're organizing the winter tour, and we don't want any bullshit from the label, you understand? Do you have a pen? Write this down. Little Pandas, Mindless Self Indulgence, The Used, My Chemical Romance. Everyone's on board. I want contracts by Tuesday or I'm giving Bert a Red Bull and letting him loose in your office. Understand?" She smiled. "Thanks, Paul. I'll see you."

Alison sat back down and Lindsey handed her the bottle. "You are like, eight feet tall right now," Lindsey said.

Alison grinned as she stretched her legs onto Jamia's lap. She took a long swig from the bottle. "I am all of five foot nothing and I fucking hate it," Alison said. "Bert does somesaults on hotel beds and climbs on people's backs. But I hate that shit. I guess it's different for a girl."

Lindsey nodded and took the bottle back.

Before long they were on the line for the last ferry to Liberty Island. They finished off the bottle, and Lindsey said, "For the fishes!" and pitched it into the water. The top level of the ferry was cold, but instead of going downstairs, they just wrapped their arms around each other and watched as the big green statue came into view.

"I hate the fucking Statue of fucking Liberty," Lindsey said as they crouched at the back of the base, away from the tour group, and shared a cigarette.

Alison looked up at the looming dark statue. "She seems all right."

Lindsey shook her head. "Her entirely sexuality is hidden, draped in thick hideous cloth, like she's ashamed to be a woman. And what does she say? 'Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses, your wreched refuse.' All she does is sacrifice herself, sucking in refuse, never being the woman she was meant to be, just being someone's fucking garbage can."

Alison nodded slowly. "We should pee on her."

Lindsey considered this. "I do have to pee." She stood up, undid her pants, and pushed them to her knees.

Alison laughed and squatted beside her, and they both peed on the ground. They were just finishing up when they heard voices, and noticed an entire tour group just a few yards away. Lindsey choked out a laugh, grabbed Alison's hand, and pulled them to the other side of the base as they were still doing up their pants.

They leaned against the granite, and Lindsey ran a hand back through her hair. "Fuck," she said. "I need something stronger."

"Coke?" Alison offered.

Lindsey looked over at her. "You can get coke at the Statue of Liberty?"

"I'm Bert McCracken's wife," Alison said as she took her phone out of her pocket. "I can get coke in outer space."

They took the ferry back to Battery Park, where they met Alison's connection. Then they walked up Broadway looking for a private place.

"It's not that I hate being a mom," Lindsey said out of nowhere. "It's just that all everyone asks about is the baby. I did other shit for twenty-eight years, but now all anyone cares about is the baby."

Alison lit a cigarette. "I don't give a shit about your baby, if that makes you feel better."

"Thanks," Lindsey said.

"But it doesn't change you," Alison argued. "Maybe it changes what other people say to you, but fuck other people."

Lindsey spotted a McDonald's and grabbed Alison's hand. "In here."

They went into the single-stall bathroom in McDonald's and locked the door. It smelled like piss and the surfaces were covered in black dust. Lindsey took a compact out of her purse and handed it to Alison. Alison balanced it on the lip of the sink and cut a pair of lines on the glass.

"You show them," Alison said after she'd ducked down and sniffed up the line.

Lindsey leaned down. "Huh?"

Alison rubbed her nose and swallowed hard. "Those people who think you're nothing but a mom, or a pretty face, or what-the-fuck ever," she said. "You go out there in the world and you show then you're more than that."

Lindsey snorted up the line, flipped her hair as she came up, and smiled. "Yeah."

Alison dipped her finger into the bag of coke and put a small mound directly into her nose. "There was this show on Australian TV when I was a kid," she said. "All the characters were made out of candy, and all the houses and shit too, all candy. And every episode they ate some of the buildings and like, the cats." She took another hit. "In retrospect it was really fucked up, but you remind me of that."

Lindsey reached into the bag and took her own small hit. "Eating cats?"

Alison nodded. "Something about your skin, your hair, your makeup. You look like you're made out of candy." She closed up the bag of coke and tucked it in her pocket.

"You -" Lindsey began.

Alison took a step closer to her. "Don't say doll. My whole life everyone calls me a doll, because I'm so small. My grandmother used to say, 'Ally, you're such a doll, I want to put you in my glass case and keep you there forever'. And like, what the fuck is that about?"

Lindsey reached out and pulled Alison closer, so that their bodies were flush against each other. "You have dragon eyes," she whispered. "You're a giant, man-eating dragon. You crush cities and tear down the sky."

Alison leaned forward and kissed her. Lindsey responded immediately, opening her mouth and meeting Alison's mouth at every hungry push of her lips. Alison shoved her thigh between Lindsey's legs, and Lindsey moaned into Alison's mouth.

After a few minutes Lindsey pulled her head back. "Stench of piss? Not so sexy."

Alison nodded. "It's hot in here too. Let's get ice cream."

They walked out of the bathroom and found a grocery store a block away. After arguing over cookie dough versus peanut butter cup, Alison spotted a box of multicolored ice pops and shrieked. Lindsey rushed down the frozen foods aisle to see what she'd found.

"I love that shit!" Lindsey said.

"I used to eat these motherfuckers every day when I was a kid," Alison said.

An employee in an apron gave them a look, but then just walked away.

At the check-out, Lindsey waved away Alison's purse and paid for the ice pops herself, shouting, "You paid for the cocaine!" and earning them a few dirty looks. They tore open the box before they even got out of the store, and began walking uptown sucking on ice pops and gossiping about their favorite bands.

"I play guitar," Alison said softly. "Not like, very well, but I know all the chords, and I can do a lot of songs."

"That's awesome," Lindsey said. "You record anything?"

Alison shrugged. "It's kind of hard to be a guitarist when Quinn Allman is at your house fifty percent of the time and your husband is practically blowing him he's so in love with his riffs."

Lindsey nudged her shoulder. "We should jam," she said. She took a long lick of her ice pop. "Fuck it, we should jam, and then we should open for Little Pandas on the tour. We'll play at like nine in the fucking morning and we'll rock the fuck out."

Alison stopped walking and turned to face Lindsey. "I like how you think."

Lindsey smiled. "I like you too."

Alison nodded at the rock wall on the opposite side of the sidewalk. "Is that Central Park?"

"Yeah," Lindsey said.

Alison stuck the ice pop all the way into her mouth and pulled it out slowly. "Wanna go hide behind a tree and do dirty things with ice pops?"

Lindsey fluttered her eyelashes. "I thought you'd never ask."

They hopped the wall and fell gracelessly into a large bush, losing their ice pops. Lindsey took two new ones out of the box and handed one to Alison.

Alison licked up the length of her orange ice pop. "This only works without pants."

Lindsey unwrapped her grape one. "As do all good things in life."

They both held the pops in their mouths as they tried to get out of their jeans without injuring themselves too much on the branches of the bush. Lindsey tripped and fell onto her ass, and Alison took the opportunity to crawl over her and rub between her legs with the ice pop.

"Eee!" Lindsey said. "Cold." Alison withdrew, but Lindsey shook her head. "Good cold. Keep going."

Alison licked the tip of the ice pop thoroughly and pressed it against Lindsey's body again. She ran it up and down the length of her crotch, eliciting soft squeals. When Lindsey was completely coated, Alison ducked her head down and licked her clean. Lindsey tangled her hands in Alison's hair, bucked up against her, and came with a loud gasp.

Alison rocked back on her heels, and Lindsey climbed over her until they were both lying down. "Put it in me," Alison whispered, and Lindsey pressed the tip of the ice pop inside of her. She moved her thumb so that it was circling Alison's clit, and before long Alison was burying her face in Lindsey's hair and moaning.

They laughed as they struggled to get their pants back on while pinned on all sides by the bush. Instead of climbing over the wall, they walked through the park for a little while, eating a new set of ice pops in companionable silence.

They exited the park in some sort of business district, and they stopped at the corner to get their bearings.

"The hotel is that way," Lindsey said, pointing North. "It shouldn't be far."

Alison picked at the crotch of her pants. "I'm all sticky."

Lindsey looked across the street, where there was a dark and deserted office building with a circular fountain out front. The fountain had a mermaid in the center, and a stream of water was shooting out of her mouth.

Alison followed her gaze. "You think we'll be spotted?"

Lindsey shook her head. "It's all businesses on this block, and it's late enough that everything's closed. Come on."

They ran around to the back of the fountain and stripped their clothes off without hesitating. Lindey jumped in first, and splashed Alison as she was pulling her shirt over her head. They both sat down in the shallow water.

Alison looked up at the sculpture above them. "I fucking hate mermaids."

Lindsey leaned back on her elbows. "What's wrong with mermaids?"

"They don't have vaginas," Alison said. "And it's like, think of all the wonderful things that vaginas do. How can you just not have one?"

Lindsey laughed. "I think we just figured out what's wrong with men."

Alison grabbed Lindsey's shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss. She slid her hand between Lindsey's legs. Lindsey tilted her head back and gasped, her face damp and her red lips parted. Alison kissed the side of her face and whispered, "You're what a mermaid should be." Lindsey kicked her legs in the water as she came, and Alison laughed against her lips.

Suddenly there was a red and blue light covering the fountain. "Cops," Lindsey whispered. They stumbled out of the fountain, grabbed their clothes and purses, and ran down the block until they found an alleyway.

They were choking on laughter as they got dressed, trying to shush each other in case the police were following them. Finally Lindsey quieted them both down by kissing Alison, and they leaned against the brick wall of the alley and kissed for what seemed like hours. Finally Lindsey leaned back and said, "Shit, you didn't get off. Let me..." and she put her hand down the front of Alison's jeans. After a moment she frowned, removed her hand, and held it up so it could catch the streetlight. Her fingers were red.

"Shit, is it the fifth already?" Alison said. "I'm sorry. How fucking embarrassing." She rummaged in her purse and came up with a tissue. "Here."

Lindsey pulled her hand away and smiled. "No," she said. "No, this is perfect."

They found a completely white building just off Broadway. Alison undid her pants, and Lindsey went to work drawing a modest mural with Alison's blood. Halfway through Alison lit a cigarette, and Lindsey had her ash in her hands so she could use it for shading. When she was done Alison did up her pants, and then stepped back to admire Lindsey's work.

It was the outline of a woman, with four arms extending from her body. In one hand, she held a baby. In another, a musical note. In another, a heart. In another, a star. "For her sense of self," Lindsey explained.

"It's beautiful," Alison said. She took out her phone and took a few pictures of it.

"It's like when you were a kid," Lindsey said. "And people asked what you wanted to be when you grew up. And you said you wanted to be a princess and a fire fighter and an astronaut and a ballerina. That's what great about being a woman. You get to be everything. You can be a wife and a mom and a musician and an artist and a friend."

Alison put her arm around Lindsey, and they spent a long moment considering the painting in front of them.

Then the red and blue lights returned.

Alison and Lindsey were read their rights, driven to the police station, and charged with public indecency, tresspassing, and vandalism. They used their one phone call to call Bert. "Do you know how many times I've bailed him out of jail?" Alison said as she dialed. "He owes me."

They sat next to each other in the holding cell and made plans to meet up and jam before their big tour started. Then they drummed on their thighs and wrote a song about popsicles. "Our first big hit!" Alison said, and they collapsed into giggles.

It was less than an hour before Gerard and Bert showed up, looking remarkably unscatched considering the time they'd spent together. Lindsey and Alison walked up to the cell bars.

"How did it go with you two?" Alison asked.

"We cried," Gerard said.

Bert smacked him lightly on the arm. "Pretend we did something manly." He turned to the women. "We beat the shit out of each other, then we got some hookers, and then we played hockey."

"We cried," Gerard repeated. "And then we wrote a song about it."

An officer came and unlocked the holding cell. He handed Lindsey and Alison bags of their belongings and some paperwork about their upcoming court date. They hurried through the station and out to the sidewalk.

"So what did you get arrested for?" Bert asked.

"Jaywalking," Lindsey said quickly.

"They're really cracking down on that stuff," Alison added.

Gerard hailed a cab and the four of them crowded into the back.

"I talked to Paul at Reprise about doing a winter tour together," Alison told them. "We might get Little Pandas to open."

"Oh, I fucking love them," Gerard said.

Bert reached over and poked Lindsey's shoulder. "So hey, Linds, how's the baby?"

Lindsey smiled and put her arm around Alison. "The baby's great."