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Isla’s contact had come through, and when Rachel, Cat and Tel headed to the front door to check how it all looked, they were impressed to see the walkway that led from the road to the building.

It looked a bit like a gazebo, with opaque sides and a roof, so no one could see in. And it went right up to the lip of the road so that you couldn’t see in unless you were blocking the road itself, and it looked like even the protestors weren’t risking that on a busy road.

“We’ve had some questions from the… individuals outside,” said Rose, the head of the security team, not even attempting to hide her distaste, “about whether or not we’re allowed to block a pathway like this, but it turns out that whoever provided it, had a chat with the council and left me with a ton of legal paperwork which covers us.”

Cat looked impressed, and Rachel was now even more curious about who this mysterious person Isla had spoken to was, who could cut through local government red tape at such short notice.

“I was thinking,” said Tel, “that we might put two members of security either side of the walkway, so that they can open car doors and usher people in, and avoid any interference or harassment.”

“That’s an excellent plan,” said Rach. “Rose, are you okay to stay here and do the bag searches and id checks? And either myself or Cat will do the welcomes. We want to try and ensure that people feel safe, even with the disruption outside.”

Plan in place, all that was left to do now, was wait.

About fifteen minutes before it was due to open, people started arriving and Rose and Tel made a quick judgement call and let them in.

“We can always keep people here in the foyer, and point them in the direction of the café,” Tel said to Rachel. “It’s better than leaving them outside.”

Rachel agreed wholeheartedly. The first group were a gaggle of queers who seemed to take great delight in roaring absurdities at the protesters outside as they made their way down the walkway.

“I’m so sorry,” said Rachel, as she welcomed them. “We really had hoped to avoid any of that sort of nonsense.”

“You get arseholes like that everywhere,” said one leather dyke, grimacing. “It’s not your fault, and your staff are amazing. They got us all inside so quickly.”

“Well, once you’ve done the checks, there’s a café down the corridor, changing rooms in the basement, and the main hall will be open really soon. Thanks so much for coming out, and I hope you have a great time.”

Next down the walkway were some familiar faces from Stuffie Hospital London. Rachel stared, stunned, and then beamed as they made their way inside. Daniel brought Mossie, his Little one, and they’d brought their best friend Rubie, and Rubie’s partner Anna. Rubie and Mossie were looking a little pale, but also equally determined.

“We weren’t going to miss it, no matter what they yell at us,” confided Rubie. “Events like this are so rare, and when Daniel told us about it, we were in. I can’t wait to see all the stalls.”

“And visit Susie and Isla,” said Mossie quietly. A giraffe was clutched tightly in their hand, their other hand in Daniel’s.

“And visit Susie and Isla,” agreed Rubie.

“I hope you enjoy the event,” said Rachel, as they moved over to where Rose was doing the checks.

It suddenly felt a little overwhelming, how kind everyone was being, and how supportive. She slipped her hand into her pocket, and felt her tiny kitty stuffie in there. Closing her eyes, she stroked its head a few times, and then tugged until its feline face peeped above the seam of the pocket.

“That’s adorable,” said Tel. They looked slightly envious.

“Isla got her for me,” said Rachel. “There’s some like it on the Stuffie Hospital London booth—you should definitely go have a quick peek before everyone else arrives, because it’ll be carnage after. Get in early!”

“Is that…? Is that okay?”

Rach nodded. “It’s more than okay. Have a look round, chat to the vendors. We’re hoping to have the same group each month, so you might as well get to know some people; they’re going to be around.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Tel, and slipped inside.

The foyer was starting to fill up now, and Rachel could see people popping down to the basement and then coming back up in adorable clothes. There were some jumpsuits, some onesies, and lots of cute twirly dresses.

She wondered why those had never really appealed to her before. Rachel supposed it was because her Little was less about her embracing the child she never got to be, and more about an escape from the stresses of the Big world she had to live in, day in, day out.

About half an hour after the doors opened, Cat popped out and urged her to go in and have a look. “It’s amazing, Rach, it’s everything we hoped for. I’ll cover here.”

And so, nervously, Rachel made her way inside the main hall.

It was loud, that was the first thing that it her—a wall of sound that felt almost physical—but once she adjusted to it, she realized what the noise was.

It was laughter.

It was laughter and people chatting and excitement, and she could see on the faces of the people that walked by the same kind of excitement that she imaged was often on her own face.

People were happy, because of something that she’d done, that she and Cat and Tel and Emma had done. And suddenly it was all worth it; the stress and the tears and the anxieties about the protestors, it all faded away because she’d done what she’d set out to do in the first place.

She’d created a safe space for queer Littles.

And it wasn’t just the ticket holders who were happy; the vendors were happy too. Joking with their customers, recommending other stalls and other merchandise. It felt almost like a family. Almost because Rachel knew that they didn’t really know each other yet, and also because families fought and she couldn’t see any arguments here.

Looking for Isla, she saw her Daddy at the Stuffie Hospital London booth, a smile plastered firmly on her face. She looked… well, Isla looked like she was managing. Just about. Maybe Rachel should go and check in on her.