one-hundred-twelve.

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JULY, 1994, SEATTLE, WA

        LINDY DIDN'T WANT to do it. In fact, if anyone else but Kurt had asked her, she would have flat out said no and maybe even have told that person that they were fucking crazy.

But it was Kurt who had stared into her eyes, pleading that she bring Frances to see him in rehab. It had been a solid two weeks since he'd been visited by his daughter, an injustice that Courtney accredited to her own grief. She had insisted that she needed Frances near her as she coped with the death of her bassist and Hole's canceled tour. 'More time with my daughter,' is how she had put it.

Lindy couldn't understand why Courtney's personal problems correlated with Kurt and Frances's time together. She didn't have a single guess as to why Courtney would even dare pull such a stunt, but then again, it was Courtney that they were talking about.

"I'll go," Rosemary had declared. "Courtney knows she's not supposed to do this shit. I'll get Frances here."

"Wait," Kurt had intervened from in front of them, stepping forward briskly with his hand out.

"What?" Rosemary asked, enunciating the word with obvious annoyance at Kurt's hesitance.

"I don't think it should be you," Kurt said outright. He gazed over at Lindy. "It should be you, Linds. She'll listen to you."

The laugh that left Rosemary's mouth was so much of a cackle that it turned the heads several people milling around the outside pavilion. Even Lindy let out a bewildered stutter at Kurt's proposition.

"Her? Kurt, Courtney will try to kill her if she shows up asking to take Frances. It would be like putting Lindy up for bait," Rosemary said, strong-willed in making Kurt see reason.

"Courtney's intimidated by Lindy," Kurt countered back, earning a loud scoff from Lindy herself. "She is! I know she is. Look, we may be divorced but I know Courtney inside and out and I'm telling you, she won't do shit if Lindy is around. I'm not going to risk sending you there, Rosemary. Who the fuck knows what she'll do if her ex-lawyer shows up."

"Are you okay?" Lindy asked seriously. She touched the back of her hand to Kurt's forehead. "What are they giving you in this place?"

"Come on Lindy," Kurt reasoned, caressing her arm with tenderness. "Frances likes you so much. She'd love it if you brought her here."

Kurt wasn't wrong. Frances had taken to Lindy rather well, and liked, if not loved, her new 'friend.' If Frances was in a room and Lindy walked into it, her eyes lit up with excitement. She could be found clutching at Lindy's legs and babbling out her first words to her, keen to understand more about the little human growing inside Lindy's belly. Kurt had already done the honors of telling Frances that the bump she was so intrigued by was actually her little brother or sister.

"She's not going to like watching me punch her mother in the face when she gets too close," Lindy snapped back.

She'd promised herself that she would apologize to Courtney — that much was true. But the vicious, blonde-haired front-woman had finally gone too far. Keeping Frances away from Kurt was high on Lindy's shit list, right next to kicking puppies. She didn't even think she could stomach being within a mile radius of Courtney Love.

"Please," Kurt begged. "Trust me on this one. I know Courtney. Just please try."

Lindy gritted her teeth together, wishing that Kurt's besieging blue eyes didn't have such a powerful hold on her. Then it would have been so much easier to tell him no. But the way he looked at her . . .

"Fine," Lindy finally said through her clenched teeth. "But I won't feel bad if someone, that someone being her, gets throttled."

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