Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rio mostly agreed just to shut Jen up. It was her mistake for bringing up that she’d probably be late on rent, again. The bar she worked at was cutting her hours, and though she’d a sneaking suspicion it was because she’d told off the owner’s son for flirting with her on the clock, she couldn’t prove that. Nor could she flat-out quit without something else lined up.

The apartment was dim, lit only by the flickering glow of the TV and the golden light spilling from the kitchen. Rio sat cross-legged on the couch, scrolling through help-wanted ads while Jen leaned against the counter, a glass of wine in hand. The quiet hum of a late evening was broken when Jen cleared her throat.  

“So,” she began, her tone suspiciously casual. “You know I love you girl. But I also love us not getting evicted. How would you feel about… going on a date next weekend?”  

Rio glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “A date?”  

“Yeah,” Jen said, swirling her wine and avoiding eye contact. “It’s this thing I do from time to time. Make a quick couple hundred bucks. You’d just have to show up, look nice, talk about the weather, maybe let someone buy you a ridiculously overpriced dinner.”  

Rio’s eyes narrowed. “What exactly are you talking about?”  

Jen sighed, setting her glass on the counter. “Okay, fine. I have a couple standing arrangements with these… clients. We meet up for fancy dinners or events. They get some arm candy to make them look good, I get a paycheck. Everyone wins.”  

Rio blinked, unsure if she’d heard correctly. “You’re saying you get paid to go on dates? So you’re a sugar baby.”  

“Occasionally. It’s not a big deal,” Jen said with a shrug. “I have this new client lined up for next weekend. But the thing is, I already have plans with Alice, and I really don’t want to cancel. So, I was thinking…” She gave Rio a meaningful look.  

“No,” Rio said immediately, shutting her laptop and standing up to leave.  

“Oh, come on, hear me out,” Jen pleaded. “It’s easy money, Rio. You literally just have to show up, look pretty, and smile.”  

Rio snorted. “Not happening. There isn’t enough money in the world to make me sit through dinner with some weird old guy.”  

Jen rolled her eyes, pushing off the counter and walking over. “First of all, you don’t know if they’re weird. Second of all, it’s not even a guy.”  

Rio frowned, caught off guard. “What?”  

“It’s a woman,” Jen said, her lips curling into a sly smile. “Does that change anything?”  

Rio scoffed. “No. Old and lonely and probably weird is still the same.”  

Jen smirked, swirling the wine in her glass. “You’re so full of it.”  

Jen’s grin was razor-sharp as she waited for Rio’s response, and Rio rolled her eyes.  

“No way,” Rio said, crossing her arms defensively. “Good for you, get that bag, but I’ll figure something else out.”  

Jen’s laughter bubbled up, bright and teasing. “Sweetheart, you’re so sheltered. These women aren’t crusty old grandmas in rocking chairs. They’re powerful, rich, and they smell like Chanel, not mothballs. Some of them are absolutely stunning .” She tilted her head, studying Rio as if sizing her up for auction. “You’d clean up if you stopped being so stubborn. They’d eat you alive—and pay you for the privilege.”  

Rio snorted, but the heat rising in her cheeks betrayed her interest. “Sounds like a bad reality show.”  

“No, babe, this is reality. You’re five hundred bucks short on rent and I’m giving you an easy solution.” Jen leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “Look, I’m not saying you have to hook up or even like her, but my plus-one for next weekend isn’t an old man, okay? It’s someone really cool. I swear, she’s got her act together in a way you could only dream of.”  

Rio narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Define ‘cool.’”  

“Early forties. Divorcee. Owns her own company. Oh, and did I mention she’s gorgeous?” Jen ticked off each point on her fingers.  

Rio scoffed, her knee bouncing. “You’re overselling it.”  

“Am I?” Jen reached for her phone, pulling up a photo and sliding it across the counter.  

Rio hesitated before glancing down. Her breath hitched. The woman in the photo was stunning in a way that felt almost unreal—sharp cheekbones, a gorgeous strong nose and jaw, dark hair swept into an effortless style, a tailored suit that screamed money . Her lips curved in a smirk that suggested she was in on some private joke, and Rio felt her stomach twist in an unfamiliar way.

“She’s…okay,” Rio lied, sliding the phone back like it burned her.  

Jen rolled her eyes. “Yeah, okay, whatever. Look, just think about it. All you have to do is go to dinner, keep her company, and pretend like you don’t hate fun for a night. You get paid, probably still come out ahead after you pay me your back rent, and she gets someone to make her ex jealous or whatever. Everybody wins.”  

Rio frowned, fiddling with a loose thread on her sleeve. It sounded easy. Too easy. But the idea of extra cash—and the chance to dress up for a night and maybe figure out what it was about that photo that left her tongue-tied—tempted her more than she wanted to admit.  

“You’re really not kidding about the no sex thing?”  

“Promise.” Jen crossed her heart dramatically. “This isn’t that kind of gig. Unless you want it to be,” she added, raising her eyebrows suggestively.  

Rio sighed heavily, running a hand through her hair. “Fine. But only because I need the cash. And if she’s weird or creepy, I’m out.”  

Jen grinned, looking incredibly cat like. “You won’t regret it. Now, let’s go shopping. You’re gonna need a dress that kills. ”

“Isn’t she going to ask questions when I show up and not you? What if I’m not her type?” Rio asked, hesitantly. She wasn’t used to being anything but confident but something about the woman’s smirk in that picture had shaken her guard.

Jen rolled her eyes, “Now I know you’re just fishing. You’re everyone’s type.”

The boutique was a whirlwind of glittering fabric and soft overhead lighting, and Rio already regretted agreeing to this. She tugged uncomfortably at her sweatshirt as Jen swept ahead of her, her sharp eyes scanning the racks with the precision of a hawk hunting its prey.  

“Okay, first rule of shopping with me,” Jen declared, pulling out a sequined jumpsuit with a low v and holding it up to Rio’s frame. “Trust the process.”  

Rio grimaced, stepping back. “Hard pass. I’m not wearing something that looks like it belongs on stage in Vegas.”  

Jen sighed dramatically, sliding the jumpsuit back on the rack. “You’re no fun.” She turned, grabbing a dress that seemed to consist of more cutouts than fabric. “How about this? Sexy but edgy.”  

“I don’t want to look like I fell out of a music video,” Rio said, crossing her arms. “Can we stick to something…normal? Practical?”  

Jen gasped in mock horror. “Practical? We are not dressing you for jury duty, babe. You’re going to be arm candy for a literal CEO goddess. You need to shine .”  

Rio rolled her eyes but let Jen lead her to the dressing rooms, arms laden with dresses. The first one was a long, flowy gown that draped elegantly over Rio’s shoulders.  

“Nope,” Rio said immediately, stepping out and shaking her head. “Feels like I’m wearing curtains.”  

Jen pursed her lips. “Okay, fine. We’ll try something with more structure.”  

The next was a skintight red cocktail dress with a plunging neckline and a slit that seemed to defy gravity. Rio shuffled out of the dressing room, glaring at Jen.  

“Seriously?” Rio asked, tugging at the neckline. “I’m not trying to flash the entire restaurant.”  

Jen cackled, clapping her hands. “Okay, maybe that was a bit much. Back to the drawing board.”  

After several more rounds of trial and error—including a metallic number that made Rio feel like a disco ball—they finally found it: a sleek black dress that hugged her figure just enough to be flattering but not so tight she felt exposed. The neckline was modest, but the dress had a deep cutout at the back that added just the right amount of flair.  

Rio turned to the mirror, adjusting the fabric. “This…isn’t bad.”  

Jen grinned triumphantly. “Not bad? Babe, you look amazing. That’s the one .”  

Rio smirked, rolling her shoulders to test the dress’s mobility. “Good, because I’m done trying stuff on. Now we just need shoes.”  

“Obviously,” Jen said, leading the way to the shoe section. She picked up a pair of sky-high heels and handed them to Rio.  

Rio shook her head. “Absolutely not. No heels. I’m not breaking my neck for this lady.”  

Jen sighed, placing the heels back with exaggerated reluctance before pulling out a pair of sleek black flats with a pointed toe. “Fine. Flats it is. But at least something chic.”  

Rio slid them on, wiggling her toes. “I can work with these.”  

Jen stepped back, hands on her hips as she surveyed her handiwork. “You’re going to kill it.”  

Rio snorted. “Let’s just hope she’s not as high-maintenance as you are.”  

Jen grinned, looping her arm through Rio’s as they headed to the register. “Impossible. There’s only one of me.” She swiped her credit card, and handed the bags to Rio. “I’ll add that to my cut. But I think I’ll let you handle the underwear situation on your own. You do own something other than those ratty boy shorts right?”

Rio shoved her as she took the bags, but couldn’t help that faint blush that spread over her face. “That’s not going to matter!” She grumbled, blatantly ignoring Jen’s responding laughter.

The art museum loomed ahead of Rio, its grand facade illuminated by soft, golden light. The air buzzed with quiet sophistication, the hum of conversation and the clinking of champagne glasses audible even from the street. Rio tugged at the hem of her dress, her fingers fidgeting with the sleek fabric as she waited, shifting nervously from foot to foot.  

She checked her phone again. I can still back out, she thought. But before she could entertain the idea, a sleek black car pulled up to the curb, its glossy surface reflecting the glow of the street lamps.  

Rio’s breath hitched as the driver stepped out and opened the door. The first thing she saw was a long, elegant leg clad in dark stockings. Then came the rest of her date: a striking woman who unfolded from the car with effortless grace.  

Her tailored suit jacket was impeccable—a rich charcoal gray with subtle pinstripes that shimmered faintly under the lights. The jacket cinched at the waist, emphasizing her hourglass figure, while the wide lapels framed a crisp white shirt left daringly unbuttoned at the collar. A silk pocket square in deep burgundy peeked out from her breast pocket, matching the pointed-toe heels that clicked softly against the pavement as she stepped forward.  Her skirt appeared to have been painted on, clinging to her hips as she slid out of the car.

The woman turned, her sharp cheekbones catching the light, and Rio felt her stomach flip. Her date exuded power and poise, her dark hair swept up in a way that was both polished and disarmingly casual.  

Rio swallowed hard, summoning her courage as she approached. “Excuse me,” she said, forcing her voice to sound steady. The woman turned her gaze to Rio, her piercing blue eyes cool and appraising. This was a woman who was clearly not used to being interrupted.

“I’m Jen’s friend,” Rio continued, offering a nervous smile. “She wasn’t feeling well tonight, so she asked me to come in her place.”  

The woman studied her with a shrewd expression, her head tilting slightly as her eyes swept over Rio from head to toe. The scrutiny made Rio’s skin prickle, and she resisted the urge to fidget under the weight of that gaze.  

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the woman’s lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “Ah,” she said, her voice low and velvety. “How considerate of her.”  

She extended a hand, palm up, her long fingers elegant and perfectly manicured. “Agatha Harkness,” she said smoothly, her eyes gleaming with amusement. “It’s a pleasure to meet you…?”  

“Rio,” she managed, her mouth suddenly dry.  

Agatha’s smile widened, her hand still extended. “Rio,” she repeated, savoring the name. “Charming. Now, be a dear and kiss my hand, won’t you?”  

Rio blinked, heat creeping up her neck, but before she could overthink it, she leaned forward, pressing her lips lightly to the back of Agatha’s hand. She heard the shutter of several cameras and for the first time noticed the small press gaggle gathered to capture the event attendees.

Agatha chuckled softly, the sound both warm and sharp. “Very good,” she murmured, withdrawing her hand with a flick of her wrist. “Shall we?”  

She gestured toward the museum’s entrance, her tone making it clear she expected Rio to follow.  

“Yeah,” Rio said, shaking off her nerves and stepping into stride beside her. “Let’s.”  

Her heart was pounding, but as they entered the glittering reception together, Agatha’s arm wrapping around her waist and drawing her close to her side, she couldn’t help but think: Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

It wasn’t bad. It was torture . 

The room was dazzling, filled with glittering chandeliers, priceless art, and an ocean of finely dressed attendees, but none of it held Rio’s attention like Agatha did.

She led her through the crowd with effortless grace, her head held high, her lips curved into a faint, enigmatic smile. She didn’t walk so much as glide, her tailored outfit cutting a sharp silhouette against the backdrop of glittering gowns and tuxedos.

The woman was intoxicating. Her perfume, rich and smoky with a hint of something floral, clung to the air like a spell, and Rio caught herself leaning slightly closer every time they moved. Her voice, deeper than Rio had expected, rolled over her like velvet, commanding attention in every conversation they joined.

Rio, on the other hand, was acutely aware of her own awkwardness. She kept her steps careful, her breaths shallow, trying not to trip over her own feet or get caught staring at the woman beside her.

Agatha didn’t seem to notice. Or, more likely, she did and simply didn’t care. She moved with the confidence of someone who knew she was the most important person in the room—and, judging by the way people flocked to her, she wasn’t wrong.

“Agatha, darling!” A man in a tailored tuxedo appeared in their path, his face lighting up as if he’d just spotted royalty. “It’s so good to see you. I can’t thank you enough for your support.”

Agatha smiled, a small, controlled curve of her lips. “Of course, Charles. It’s an important cause. How is the auction coming along?”

As they spoke, Rio remained silent, a polite but invisible presence at Agatha’s side. She didn’t mind at first—it was clear she was here to look good, not talk. But the more people approached, each one gushing about Agatha’s contributions or thanking her for some favor, the more Rio found herself captivated.

“Agatha, I can’t thank you enough for your contributions to the children’s fund. Truly, you’ve made a difference.”

“Your generosity never ceases to amaze, Agatha. The new gallery wouldn’t have been possible without you.”

Rio stood silently at her side, a decorative accessory, her purpose clear: to look good and say nothing. Agatha never introduced her, but she didn’t need to. No one asked. They would glance at Rio, offer a polite nod, and return their attention to Agatha, as if her companion were no more than a detail.

She should have been irritated. She wasn’t.

Agatha’s arm would occasionally brush against Rio’s, sending jolts of electricity down her spine. Her smiles were perfectly measured, her laughter a low, rich sound that made Rio’s stomach twist in a way she wasn’t proud of.

And then, without preamble, Agatha turned to her. “Be a dear and fetch us some more drinks, won’t you?” she said, her tone casual, as though it were a foregone conclusion that Rio would obey.

Rio hesitated for a fraction of a second, a flicker of annoyance sparking at the dismissiveness of the request. But then Agatha’s gaze lingered on her, sharp and appraising, and the annoyance fizzled into something else entirely—something that made her breath catch.

“Of course,” Rio said, her voice steadier than she felt.

She slipped away toward the bar, her pulse thrumming. She hated the way her heart raced at the way Agatha had ordered her around, hated how much she didn’t hate it.

The bartender took her order, and Rio tapped her fingers against the marble countertop, stealing a glance over her shoulder. Agatha was still at the center of the room, a vision really, her hand resting lightly on a champagne flute as she spoke to an older man in a tuxedo. She smiled at something he said, her eyes narrowing slightly and crinkling at the corners in amusement, and Rio felt her throat go dry.

“Two glasses of champagne,” the bartender said, sliding them across the bar.

“Thanks,” Rio muttered, grabbing the flutes and heading back toward her date.

Agatha glanced at her as she approached, a faint smile curving her lips. She didn’t say thank you, just took one of the glasses with the same effortless grace she seemed to carry in everything she did and placed the empty one on a passing tray.

“Good girl,” she murmured, low enough that no one else could hear.

Rio nearly dropped her glass.

Agatha grinned slyly, swirling her fingers around the rim of the champagne float as she gracefully extracted herself from her current conversation. She looped her arm around Rio’s, leaning over to murmur conspiratorily against her ear, “I’m starving, want to get out of here?”

Rio tried to ignore how her skin prickled as the woman’s warm breath passed over her ear. “Of course,” she replied hoping she sounded smoother than she felt.

“Wonderful,” Agatha replied, pulling a coat check ticket from her pocket. “Go fetch my bag, I need to write a cheque before we go.

Rio nodded, taking the claim ticket and heading to the attendant. When she returned with Agatha’s purse, that certainly worth more than every stitch of clothing she’d bought for tonight, the woman was in conversation with another older man.

“I know darling,” Agatha hummed as Rio returned to her side, applying a fake pout, “I so wish we could stay, but I have reservations at Natalia’s, so if you just let me know how far off you are from your goal for the night I’m sure we can make something work.”

The man laughed and held up his hands in mock surrender, “Say no more. The wife has been on me to get us a table there for months! You’re too generous as always. It’s been a good night, we’re only twenty-five thousand away.”

Rio’s eyes widened at the amount and then grew wider still as she watched Agatha tap a pen against her lips in mock contemplation.

“Hm. Alright, well how about we call it an even thirty? Since it’s for the children after all.” Agatha caught Rio’s eye and winked before signing over more money in an instant than Rio usually made in a year. Rio watched helplessly as the woman brought her finger to her lips, wetting it with her tongue before pulling it from the checkbook. 

“For the children.” The man repeated with a pleased smile, taking the cheque from her hand. “A pleasure as always Ms.Harkness, enjoy your evening.” He nodded at Rio, “Miss,” he said simply before hurrying away.

Agatha deposited the checkbook back into the bag Rio still held, making no move to take it from her as she pulled her hand. “Shall we?”

Rio nodded dumbly and followed her back outside where her driver and car waited. She opened the door for Agatha, her hand tightening around the handle as the woman smiled and hummed in approval before sliding in.

She followed and closed the door behind them with a soft thud, and as the engine roared to life, Agatha visibly relaxed. She leaned back into the plush leather seat, stretching her legs slightly and letting out a content sigh. The tension she’d carried through the evening melted away, her usual poised and commanding presence softening into something almost approachable. The driver wordlessly pulled out onto the street. 

“Have you ever been to Natalia’s?” Agatha asked, turning her gaze on Rio, her voice casual but with an undercurrent of curiosity.  

Rio scoffed, crossing her arms. “Please. That place is way out of my budget,” she said, the words a little sharper than she intended. “And it’s impossible to get a reservation. The waitlist is months long. And that was before they got their second Michelin star.”  

Agatha chuckled, a warm, easy sound that made Rio’s chest tighten slightly. “That’s true,” she admitted. “But it’s easy if you know the right people. I called earlier and they happened to have a table.”  

Rio shot her a look, half in disbelief, half intrigued. “You’re telling me you know people who can get you a spur-of-the-moment reservation same day?”  

Agatha’s lips curled into a sly smile. “I don’t just know people, darling,” she said, her tone dripping with quiet confidence. “I am the people.”  

Rio raised an eyebrow, but before she could respond, Agatha added, “The fiochetti there? To die for.”  

Rio let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “Well, I’ll just have to take your word for it, won’t I?”  

The car glided through the city streets, the neon lights of Chicago flickering in the windows as they made their way to the restaurant. Rio couldn’t help but notice how at home Agatha seemed, how effortlessly she seemed to move through worlds that Rio could only dream of touching. It made her wonder why she’d hired a date for the evening, surely there were women all over who’d be tripping over themselves to be in her shoes.

They pulled up to Natalia’s, a sleek, modern restaurant perched high above the city with sweeping views of the skyline. As they stepped out of the car, the doorman greeted Agatha with a nod, clearly recognizing her. The hostess, a striking woman in a black dress, spotted them as soon as they entered and greeted them with a warmth reserved for only the most important of guests. She waved them around the small line in front of her, and Rio felt more than a few jealous stares boring into her.

“Ms. Harkness, we’ve prepared your usual table,” the hostess said, her voice smooth and practiced. “Right this way.”  

As they were led inside, Rio couldn’t help but feel a little out of place, the luxury of it all was overwhelming. The restaurant was stunning, its sleek, contemporary design a mix of polished wood, glass, and soft, golden lighting. The view from the windows was mesmerizing—the city lights stretching out like a glittering sea beneath the dark sky.  

They were escorted to a private corner table, set with crisp white linen, polished silverware, and two crystal wine glasses. Rio hesitated for just a moment before sitting, trying to shake the feeling of being an imposter in this world. 

The waiter, a sharply dressed man with graying hair and an air of practiced elegance, approached their table with a knowing smile. His eyes flicked to Agatha, and without missing a beat, he placed a bottle of wine on the table.  

“On the house, Ms. Harkness,” he said, his tone respectful. “A pleasure, as always.”  

Rio watched in awe as the man treated Agatha like a queen, effortlessly deferring to her. It was clear she was no stranger to this kind of treatment.  

Agatha offered him a small, appreciative smile. “Thank you Marcus,” she said, then waved him off with a casual hand. “We’ll take the usual.”  

The waiter nodded and, without even presenting a menu, left them alone.  

“Usual?” Rio repeated, raising an eyebrow. “How often do you come here?”  

Agatha smirked, uncorking the wine with a practiced hand. “Enough that they know my preferences.” She poured the wine into Rio’s glass, the deep red liquid catching the light as she did. “I’ll have the salad, as always. You’ll have the pasta. Trust me.”  

Rio opened her mouth to protest but the way Agatha looked at her, with that confidence, made her rethink it.  

“Alright,” she muttered, taking a sip of the wine. It was rich, complex, with just the right balance of acidity. Or at least that’s what she thought she should be picking up on, it was a far cry from the usual boxed stuff she and Jen would pick up.

Agatha chuckled, her gaze thoughtful. “You’ll see. The food here is exceptional. But sometimes, darling, the company is just as important.”  

Rio wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so she took another sip of the wine, letting the conversation hang in the air between them. It was becoming clear that the night was no longer just about food or drinks—it was a game, one Agatha was very good at playing, and Rio was just starting to learn the rules.

The food arrived in record time, the pasta placed in front of Rio with the delicate artistry that came with a restaurant of this caliber. She took a bite, and for a moment, the world outside of their table seemed to fall away. The texture was perfect, the sauce a delicate balance of richness and acidity from the pear wrapped neatly in the decorative pasta, and she couldn't help but let out a small noise of approval as she savored the flavor.  

Agatha, watching her with an almost predatory interest, leaned back slightly in her chair, a smile curling at the edges of her lips. “I told you,” she murmured, taking a sip of her own wine and settling back into her salad.

“Yeah,” Rio admitted, “you weren’t kidding. This is amazing.”  

“Mm. I never kid about food,” Agatha replied smoothly. She paused, taking a moment to appraise Rio with that calm, critical gaze that never seemed to leave her face. “So, tell me, Rio. What is it that you do when you're not playing dress-up for charity galas?” Her tone was light, teasing, but there was a curiosity behind the question.  

Rio shrugged nonchalantly, trying to keep her cool despite how much Agatha’s attention seemed to affect her. “I’m a bartender,” she said, shifting slightly in her seat. “I used to study journalism, but... dropped out a few credits shy.” She gave a small, almost embarrassed smile. “Guess it wasn’t for me.”  

Agatha raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “A journalist, huh? A little too much truth-seeking for your taste?” She took another sip of wine, clearly savoring the conversation as much as the drink.  

Rio chuckled. “Yeah, I guess. The truth didn’t pay the bills, though. Bartending does.” She met Agatha’s gaze, her eyes steady despite the lingering tension. “It’s a decent gig. I like talking to people, and the tips are good enough usually to keep me afloat.”  

“Hmm, I imagine so,” Agatha replied, her voice dipping into something thoughtful. “People always enjoy the company of someone who knows how to make a good drink, don’t they?” Her lips quirked into a small smile. “I’d say I’m a fan of someone who knows their way around a bar.”  

Rio shrugged again, this time with a hint of self-deprecating humor. “You’d be surprised how much of my job is listening to people’s problems.”  

Agatha’s smile softened just a little, her eyes twinkling. “I think I’d like that, actually. Someone who listens but doesn’t insert themself into my business. It’s... rare.” She paused, taking in the sight of Rio again, her gaze lingering longer than Rio was comfortable with. “But I’m more curious about you. Really curious,” she said, her voice almost velvety now. “It’s not every day I meet someone like you.”  

Rio couldn’t help but feel her pulse quicken under Agatha’s scrutiny. “What do you mean?” she asked, leaning forward just slightly, though she still tried to maintain an air of indifference.  

Agatha chuckled, clearly enjoying the game. “I’m not sure I’ve met anyone who’s as... uninterested in impressing me as you are. Everyone else is so caught up in doing the right thing, saying the right things, you know? But you... you’re not interested in any of that.”  

Rio could feel the edges of a smile tug at her lips, though she tried to keep it controlled. “Maybe I’m just not as easily impressed as everyone else.”  

Agatha’s eyes flashed with something darker, more intent. “Oh, I think you’re impressed,” she said softly, leaning in just a fraction. “But I don’t think you want to admit it. For a journalist I’m surprised you didn’t do your research. You have no idea who I am.” It wasn’t a question, just a blunt statement.  

Rio met her gaze, heart pounding a little harder than it should. She didn’t want to give Agatha the satisfaction, but the way she spoke, the way she held herself—everything about her commanded attention in a way Rio couldn’t ignore. “No. I didn’t. I wanted to come to my own conclusions,” she replied.

Agatha’s lips curled into a smile, a slow, satisfied one that made Rio’s heart beat a little faster. “I like that,” she said, her voice quieter now, almost a murmur. “I think we’ll get along just fine.”  

The moment lingered, and for a second, Rio wondered if Agatha was flirting or just being... Agatha. Either way, the effect was undeniable. She felt herself falling a little deeper into whatever this was between them—this slow, deliberate dance of words, glances, and half-hidden intentions.  

The waiter arrived with another bottle of wine, and Agatha dismissed him with a casual wave, her focus still entirely on Rio. Rio took another bite, savoring the flavors again. She stole a glance at Agatha, noticing the way her eyes stayed locked on her, an unreadable expression settling over her face.  

There was something in Agatha’s presence, a kind of energy that seemed to pull Rio in. It was undeniable, and Rio wasn’t sure whether to resist or just let herself fall deeper into it. For now, she just leaned back in her chair, unsure if she was supposed to play along or if Agatha was just teasing her—either way, it seemed like a game she had no intention or chance of winning.

The night air was cool against Rio's skin as they left the restaurant, the city’s lights casting long shadows on the sidewalk. She followed Agatha out, her steps slower now, reluctant to let the evening end. The car was already waiting at the curb, its polished black exterior gleaming in the dim light. Agatha glanced over her shoulder at Rio, her expression unreadable.  

"Thank you for a lovely evening," Agatha said, her voice warm but casual, the words as polished as the rest of her demeanor.  

Rio nodded, trying to match her nonchalance, but her chest felt tight. She had been half-expecting something else, some indication that the evening was far from over—that Agatha would pull her closer, perhaps kiss her, or at least offer some hint that she wasn’t just another disposable part of her evening. But Agatha simply smiled, as if this was all part of the expected routine.  

"Of course," Rio replied, her voice a little too stiff. She felt a sense of disappointment that she didn’t quite understand. "It was... nice."  

"Perhaps we'll see each other around," Agatha said, her smile still polite but distant, almost as if it were the closing line of a business transaction rather than a romantic overture.  

Rio blinked, taken aback by the coolness of her words. It felt like the evening had been a carefully choreographed dance, and Agatha had just walked off the stage without a second glance, leaving Rio standing in the wings.  

Before Rio could react, Agatha was already stepping into the car, the door closing behind her with a soft, definitive thud. Rio stood frozen for a moment, watching the taillights of the car fade into the distance. The quiet street felt heavier now, the hum of the city a distant murmur in her ears.

She glanced down at her hands, which had been loosely folded in front of her as she stood waiting. Her palms were sweating.  

She exhaled slowly, surprised at how much she’d been expecting—how much she’d hoped—for something more. A kiss, an invitation, anything. She had told herself not to expect it, not to look for it. She had furiously claimed to Jen that she had no interest in anything but what she had just received. But as the car disappeared around the corner, she couldn’t help but feel... disappointed.  

And that made no sense. Agatha was exactly what she had expected—gracious, charming, distant in that way that rich people usually were. She had played her part, and Rio had played hers, keeping up the polite conversation, the easy banter.  

So why did it sting to be left standing on the curb, her evening over before it had really begun?  

Rio rubbed the back of her neck, trying to shake off the strange feeling that had settled deep in her chest. She knew this game. She had played it before, letting herself get swept up in the fantasy, the allure, and then walking away before she could get too caught up.  

But for some reason, with Agatha, it felt different.  

She shoved her hands into her pockets and turned toward the nearest bus stop, trying to ignore the lingering sense of dissatisfaction that refused to leave her. She’d get over it, she told herself. She always did.  

It was just one night. Just one evening with a woman who was clearly out of her league. She hadn’t expected anything more.  

And yet, the disappointment lingered.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she pulled it out, her jaw dropping as she saw the notification from Venmo.

One thousand dollars had been credited to her account with a short note, “Next time, try the risotto.”

Chapter Text

Jen wasn’t home when Rio made it back but her reprieve wasn’t long lived. The next morning, she was waiting at the breakfast table, her mug of coffee in hand and a mischievous glint in her eye.  

“So,” she began, dragging out the word with a knowing smirk. “How’d it go? Did you kiss her? Did you… you know?”  

Rio rolled her eyes as she grabbed a piece of toast. “Calm down, it wasn’t like that. We went to some charity thing, had dinner, made polite conversation, and then I went home. That’s it.”  

Jen narrowed her eyes, unconvinced. “Uh-huh. And what about the way you keep glancing and smiling at your phone this morning?”  

Caught, Rio tried to play it off, a teasing grin tugging at her lips. “What, I can’t smile without you jumping to conclusions? Maybe I’m just a naturally cheerful person.”  

Jen snorted. “Please. You’re usually about as cheerful as a wet cat. Spill it.”  

Rio hesitated, the memory of the evening flashing back in pieces—Agatha’s lingering smile, the easy authoritative way she had lead her around the room. She shrugged, keeping it casual. “She was… interesting. Smart. And, yeah, okay, she’s gorgeous. But it’s not like she’s going to call me or anything. It was one night, and I was just there to fill in for you.”  

Jen’s smirk widened. “You sure about that?”  

“What do you mean?”  

Jen leaned back in her chair, savoring the moment before revealing, “I got a text this morning. From Agatha. She asked me to pass along your number.”  

Rio froze, her pulse quickening. “You’re kidding.”  

“Not even a little,” Jen said, holding up her phone like proof. “I already sent it to her, by the way. You’re welcome.”  

For a moment, Rio wasn’t sure what to say. She wasn’t the kind of person who got butterflies over a stranger, but something about Agatha had gotten under her skin.  

“Well?” Jen prompted. “How do you feel about that, Ms. I don’t kiss and tell?”  

Rio shrugged, playing it cool despite the rush of excitement coursing through her. “I guess we’ll see if she actually texts me.”  

It took a few days, but just when Rio was starting to think Agatha might not follow through, her phone buzzed with a text from an unfamiliar number.  

Apologies for the short notice, free tonight at eight?

Rio stared at the message, her thumb hovering over the screen. A smile crept onto her face, despite herself.  

“Say yes,” Jen said from across the room, peeking over Rio’s shoulder. “You’re totally ditching game night, by the way, but I’ll forgive you if you bring back some juicy gossip.”  

Rio laughed, typing out her response.  

Short notice is fine. Where should I meet you?

The reply came almost immediately, an address to an upscale lounge downtown.  

Jen gave her a mock serious look. “I want every single detail when you get back, you hear me?”  

Rio slipped her phone into her pocket, trying not to look as eager as she felt. “We’ll see,” she said with a smirk.  

But as she headed to get ready, the thought of seeing Agatha again sent a thrill through her she couldn’t quite ignore.  

Rio was pacing in her room, glaring at her closet as if the perfect outfit might magically appear if she stared hard enough. She yanked a denim jacket off its hanger, frowned, and tossed it onto the growing pile on her bed.  

“This is ridiculous,” she muttered, pulling at the hem of her T-shirt. “She would’ve said something if she wanted me to be super fancy.”

A sharp knock at her door interrupted her spiral. She opened it to find a courier holding a slim black garment bag and a small envelope.  

“Delivery,” the courier said with a polite nod.  

Rio blinked, signed for the package, and shut the door. The envelope was plain, her name written in a looping script she immediately recognized. The swirls and flourishes were the same she’d watched enraptured by as Agatha wrote that cheque at the gala.

She tore the envelope open, pulling out a single heavy card.  

"I thought this might save you some trouble. See you at eight. — A"  

Her heart raced as she unzipped the garment bag. Inside was a tailored ensemble, the kind of thing she’d never pick for herself but immediately felt a strange pull toward.  

A fitted blazer in a deep burgundy, sleek and minimalist with a slightly nipped waist that hinted at femininity without overdoing it. Beneath it, a crisp black button-down shirt, the top few buttons casually undone. Slim-cut trousers completed the look, tailored to perfection and designed to elongate her frame.  

The shoes—a pair of polished black oxfords with just a hint of shine—were practical yet undeniably stylish.  

Rio ran her fingers over the fabric, feeling the quality, the weight of it. She wasn’t used to clothes like this, but she could already imagine how it would feel to slip it on, to see herself in the mirror.  

At the bottom of the garment bag was a small accessory: a slim black leather belt with a subtle silver buckle, understated but sharp.  

She glanced at the clock and realized she didn’t have time to second-guess the look. Grabbing the outfit, she got dressed, adjusting the blazer in front of the mirror. She looked... good. Better than she had any right to.  

Before heading out, she took a few pictures of herself, sending them to her group chat with Jen and Alice

Her phone buzzed with a screen full of fire emojis from Alice and then a teasing text from Jen.

Don’t forget the gossip. Tell her thanks for saving you from your terrible wardrobe. And PLEASE do something with your hair!

Rio rolled her eyes before glancing at herself in the mirror. She noticed how the cut of her jacket seemed to be designed to elongate her neck, so she experimentally pulled her hair up. Better. She clipped it into a neat bun before grabbing her keys and heading out.

The metro screeched to an unceremonious halt, and Rio’s stomach sank as the announcement blared over the intercom.  

“We apologize for the delay. Maintenance crews are working to resolve the issue.”

Rio glanced at her phone. It was already 7:55.  

“Dammit,” she muttered, shoving her phone into her pocket.  

By the time she’d gotten off the stalled train and figured out her bearings above ground, she realized she’d have to run to make it anywhere close to on time. Taking a deep breath, she set off, her polished oxfords clicking against the pavement as she jogged the last few blocks.  

When she finally spotted the lounge, the warm light spilling out onto the sidewalk, she checked her phone again: 8:15.

“Great start,” she muttered, running a hand to smooth her slightly damp hair as she caught her breath and pushed through the door.  

It didn’t take long to spot her. Agatha was seated at a table in the corner, legs elegantly crossed, her sharp profile illuminated by the soft amber glow of the lights. She was nursing a drink, her expression unreadable as her fingers tapped a measured rhythm on the tablecloth.  

Her dress was the first thing Rio noticed. It was sleek, a deep shade of purple that shimmered faintly as the light shifted. The fabric hugged her frame without being overly tight, the neckline plunging just enough to be daring. A slit along one side revealed a hint of her toned leg when she moved, and the dress’s simplicity made it all the more striking.  

At her throat rested a necklace that caught the light with every turn of her head. A single, brilliant amethyst hung suspended on a fine gold chain, the stone perfectly matched to the color of her dress. It was the kind of piece that whispered of elegance and fine taste rather than shouted the wealth of its owner. Rio had no doubt it was worth more than everything she owned.  And most captivating of all, Agatha’s hair was down this time, thick and wavy, curtaining her face and slightly softening her severe features.

Even in clothes she hadn’t picked out herself, in that moment Rio felt underdressed. Still, she forced herself forward. Agatha didn’t look up until Rio was standing directly in front of her. When she finally did, her gaze swept over Rio, appraising and cool.  

“Sorry I’m late,” Rio said, trying to sound composed despite the slight hitch in her breath.  

Agatha tilted her head, her fingers stilling against the glass in her hand. “You are late,” she replied, curtly, setting her glass down. “Punctuality is a rather basic courtesy, wouldn’t you agree?”  

Rio winced, opening her mouth to explain, but Agatha continued, her tone clipped. “I was beginning to wonder if I’d been stood up. My time is important to me, and I don’t like it being wasted.”  

“I—” Rio started, but Agatha’s gaze sharpened.  

“Why are you out of breath?”  

Rio hesitated, feeling heat rise in her cheeks. “The metro broke down a few stops away. I, uh, jogged the last block or two.”  

Agatha’s expression shifted, the corner of her mouth twitching with what looked like suppressed amusement. “You ran?”  

“Yeah,” Rio said, suddenly self-conscious. “Didn’t want to keep you waiting any longer than I already had.”  

For a moment, Agatha said nothing, studying her with a look Rio couldn’t quite decipher. Then, to her surprise, a soft laugh escaped her lips.  

“Well,” Agatha said, her voice smoothing into something warmer, “that’s certainly... dedicated. I don’t think anyone has ever jogged through the city to meet me before.”  

Rio scratched the back of her neck, half-grinning. “Yeah, well, you seem like the type who’d appreciate the effort. Time is money and all that.”  

Agatha’s lips curved into a small, genuine smile. “You’re not wrong. Sit down before you collapse, though. Perhaps I’ll even forgive you.”  

Rio slid into the seat across from her, exhaling deeply. As she did, Agatha raised a hand to summon the waiter.  

“Let’s get you something to drink,” she said, the faint trace of amusement still dancing in her eyes. “After all, you’ve earned it. What kind of liquor do you like?”  

Rio blinked, caught slightly off guard. She’d been caught watching mesmerized as Agatha swirled her drink slowly, the ice clinking softly against the glass. She scrambled quickly to identify what was in the woman’s glass. “Uh, whiskey, I guess,” she said copying her date’s order. “Something smooth, not too sweet.”  

Agatha nodded thoughtfully and gestured for the waiter. “A black Manhattan for her,” she instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument.  

The waiter inclined his head, vanishing almost as quickly as he’d appeared.  

Rio leaned back slightly, watching Agatha with a mix of fascination and wariness. “So,” she ventured, “what’s the plan for tonight? Or am I just here to look pretty and follow you around again?”  

A faint smile tugged at Agatha’s lips. “That’s not a bad start,” she said lightly. “But no, there is a plan.” She paused, taking a deliberate sip of her drink. “I just haven’t decided how much of it you need to know.”  

Rio snorted softly, trying to mask her growing curiosity. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all. Is this a work thing? You still haven’t explained what it is you do.” 

Agatha tilted her head, studying Rio as though weighing how much to reveal. Finally, she set her glass down, her fingers trailing along the rim. “No, not a work thing. Well, I’m always working, but that’s secondary tonight. There’s a charity auction later this evening,” she admitted, her voice measured. “A… fashion benefit of sorts. People buying old clothes to benefit new school programs.”

Rio let out a low whistle, “Sound interesting. Anything you’ve got your eye on?”

Agatha gave her a typical enigmatic smirk. “Yes.” She finished her drink and leaned back in the comfortable club chair.

Agatha’s smirk lingered as she watched Rio, her gaze as sharp and deliberate as ever. “But what about you, Rio?” she asked, her voice slipping into that smooth, disarming tone. “You strike me as someone with an eye for… the unique. Is there anything you’d seek out at an auction like this?”

Rio shrugged, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “Depends on what’s on offer, I guess. I don’t exactly have a lot of experience with auctions—or, you know, extra cash to throw around on fancy vintage clothes.”

Agatha chuckled softly, her fingers tapping a thoughtful rhythm against her jaw. “You’re practical. I like that.”

“Practical?” Rio echoed, arching a brow. “Not the most flattering compliment.”

Agatha’s smile widened ever so slightly. “I meant it as one though. You’re not the type to be distracted by shiny things—or people, for that matter.” Her tone was light, but Rio caught the undertone of curiosity, as though Agatha was testing her response.

Rio smirked, tilting her head. “And what about you? Do you get distracted by shiny things—or people?”

Agatha leaned forward just enough to close the distance between them slightly, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “That depends on the company.”

Heat crept up Rio’s neck, but she held Agatha’s gaze, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a flustered reaction. “Guess I’ll have to keep things interesting, then.”

Agatha’s laughter was quiet but genuine as she reached for her purse and stood. “Shall we? The fashion district awaits, and I wouldn’t want to miss the main event. I’d planned for two drinks here, but someone had to be late.” Agatha tapped her jaw thoughtfully, there was no malice in her words, just a cool statement of fact. “I’ll pick you up next time.”

Rio’s ears burned as she rose, grabbing her jacket and trying to shake off the lingering tension of their banter. As they left the lounge, the evening air outside was cool and brisk, the streetlights casting a warm glow over the bustling city.

The car ride was quiet at first, the hum of the engine filling the space between them. Agatha glanced out the window, her expression unreadable again. But then, as if compelled, she spoke, breaking the silence.

“You asked earlier what field I work in,” she said, her tone casual but pointed. “I don’t usually discuss it much—not because it’s a secret, but because it’s... complicated.”

Rio glanced at her, intrigued. “Complicated how?”

Agatha hesitated, her fingers idly adjusting the cuff of her coat. “I work with people who like their business to remain discreet. They come to me when they need... solutions. Creative ones.”

“That’s vague as hell,” Rio said, a half-smile tugging at her lips.

Agatha laughed softly. “And intentional. But if it helps, think of me as a problem-solver.”

“A problem-solver,” Rio echoed, mulling it over. “For rich people, I’m guessing. PR and stuff?”

Agatha’s smirk returned. “Generally, yes.”

Before Rio could press further, the car slowed to a stop in front of a sleek, modern building in the heart of the fashion district. The marquee above the entrance displayed bold, elegant letters: Vintage for the Arts . A red carpet stretched across the sidewalk, where well-dressed patrons mingled, their laughter and chatter filling the air.

Agatha turned to Rio as the driver opened the door. “Let’s make an entrance, shall we?”

Rio stepped out first, taking in the glamorous scene before offering her hand to Agatha, who took it with a graceful ease that spoke of years of practice. Together, they ascended the steps, drawing a few curious glances from the crowd.

Inside, the auction was already in full swing, the room buzzing with excitement as bidders competed for items displayed on pedestals and mannequins. A string quartet played softly in the background, adding an air of sophistication.

It was excessive in its luxury. But still, Rio couldn’t help but be a little impressed.

Rio leaned toward Agatha as they made their way through the crowd. “So, what’s the plan now?”

Agatha didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she picked up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and handed it to Rio. Her eyes sparkled with something between amusement and mischief as she finally replied, “Just follow my lead.”

They took their seats, and Agatha handed a small numbered placard to her. “Hang on to that, you won’t need it but we’re all playing parts here.”

Rio shifted in her seat, feigning interest in the items being auctioned off but mostly focusing on the way Agatha sat beside her, poised and confident. The soft glow of the lights above caught in her earrings, throwing glints of light that seemed to move with her slightest gesture. Their arms brushed each time Agatha leaned closer to catch the auctioneer’s words, and Rio caught herself holding her breath every time it happened.  

Her perfume was distracting, that heady mix of something smoky and floral again, and Rio couldn’t stop herself from breathing it in. The buzz of the room faded for a moment as her thoughts wandered. She was keenly aware of the elegance Agatha exuded, as well as the mystery that clung to her. 

Lost in her own thoughts, Rio barely noticed that her knee had started bouncing—an unconscious outlet for her nervous energy.  

“Rio,” Agatha murmured, her voice low and commanding.  

Rio’s gaze snapped to her, just as Agatha placed a firm hand on her knee. “Relax,” she said, her tone softening just enough to keep her from feeling foolish.

“Sorry,” Rio muttered, the heat of Agatha’s touch burning through the fabric of her trousers. Agatha withdrew her hand slowly, as if deliberately testing her composure.  

Before Rio could recover, the auctioneer announced the next item, and the crowd shifted with renewed interest. A vintage leather motorcycle jacket was brought onto the stage, displayed on a mannequin. The supple, worn leather gleamed under the lights, the cut sharp and undeniably cool.  

“Next up, a one-of-a-kind piece from the 1960s,” the auctioneer said, his voice rising with enthusiasm. “Starting bid: one thousand dollars.”  

From the front row, a woman raised her paddle without hesitation. Rio could only make out her silhouette, but the short silvery blonde hair was unmistakable, catching the light every time she turned her head.  

Agatha’s posture changed immediately, a subtle shift that Rio wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t been so attuned to her. Without hesitation, Agatha raised her paddle.  

The auctioneer grinned. “Two thousand, now three thousand. Do I hear three thousand?”  

The blonde woman lifted her paddle again, not even glancing back.  

“Three thousand,” the auctioneer called, his voice sharp with excitement. “Four thousand? Four thousand to the lady in purple.”  

Agatha raised her paddle again, her expression cool and detached, though Rio could sense an undercurrent of something else.  

The crowd murmured as the bidding war began in earnest. The price climbed rapidly—five thousand, six thousand, seven thousand. Gasps rippled through the room with each new bid.  

Rio leaned toward Agatha, lowering her voice. “You really want that jacket, huh?”  

Agatha’s lips curved into a tight smile. “It’s not about the jacket.”  

Rio’s brow furrowed, but before she could ask more, the blonde woman raised her paddle again, her posture unyielding.  

“Eight thousand,” the auctioneer called, clearly delighted by the drama unfolding. “Do I hear nine?”  

Agatha’s paddle shot up instantly, her eyes locked on the blonde woman like a predator sizing up its prey. The other woman hesitated for a fraction of a second, then raised her paddle again.  

“Nine thousand five hundred,” the auctioneer said, his voice rising. “Ten thousand? Any takers?”  

The room fell silent, all eyes on the two women locked in this battle.  

Agatha didn’t even flinch. She lifted her paddle once more.  

“Ten thousand!” the auctioneer cried, barely able to contain his excitement. “Going once, going twice—”  

The blonde woman shifted, finally turning her head slightly toward their table. Though her face was still obscured, Rio could feel the silent exchange that passed between her and Agatha. Then, with a faint shake of her head, the woman lowered her paddle.  

“Sold!” the auctioneer declared, bringing down his gavel. “To the lovely lady in purple, for ten thousand dollars!”  

The crowd erupted in scattered applause, but Rio barely noticed. She was too busy watching Agatha, who leaned back in her chair with a satisfied smile.  

“You really showed her,” Rio said, her voice light but laced with curiosity. “So, what’s the deal? Old rival or something?”  

Agatha swirled the remaining champagne in her glass, her smirk deepening. “Or something,” she replied, her tone unreadable.  

Rio wasn’t convinced by the vague answer, but something told her this wasn’t the time to press. Whatever had just happened, it was personal—and it wasn’t over.

As the applause faded and the next item was brought to the stage, Agatha rose gracefully from her seat. “Excuse me,” she murmured, her voice cool and composed, before making her way to the front to collect the jacket.  

Rio watched her go, equal parts amused and intrigued. When Agatha returned, the vintage leather jacket draped over one arm, she couldn’t help but grin. “So, what’s the plan now? You gonna strut around in that and show her who’s boss?”  

Agatha let out a soft, dismissive laugh as she slid back into her chair. “I told you, it’s not about the jacket,” she said, brushing an invisible speck of lint off the leather. “Besides, it’s not my style.”  

Rio cocked her head, eyes narrowing. “Then what was the point of dropping ten grand on it?”  

Agatha didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she turned her gaze toward Rio, her expression sharpening as she seemed to assess her. It wasn’t the first time Rio had felt Agatha’s appraising look, but something about this one felt different—more deliberate.  

“What?” Rio asked, suddenly self-conscious.  

Agatha didn’t reply, her attention briefly flickering past Rio’s shoulder. Her smile tightened, though it didn’t reach her eyes.  

Rio shifted slightly, sensing a change in the air. “What is it?” she asked, starting to glance behind her.  

“Don’t,” Agatha said quickly, her voice low but firm.  

Rio froze, her brow furrowing. “Okay, what’s going on?”  

Agatha leaned closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Play along,” she said, her breath brushing against Rio’s ear.  

Before Rio could even process what was happening, Agatha slipped the jacket over her shoulders and placed a hand lightly on her arm. Then, with a practiced elegance, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to Rio’s cheek.  

The world seemed to pause for a moment. Rio sat utterly stunned, the scent of Agatha’s perfume enveloping her and the weight of the jacket grounding her in the surreal moment. She could feel the faintest brush of Agatha’s lips lingering against her skin, warm and deliberate.  

Her thoughts scrambled for purchase, but her body betrayed her, her cheeks flushing. “Uh…” was all she managed, mentally cursing herself for how shaky her voice sounded.  

Agatha pulled back slightly, her smile now softer, almost amused. “Good girl,” she murmured, patting the lapel of the jacket as though finishing some grand performance.  

Rio blinked, her voice finally catching up to her brain. “Are you gonna tell me what that was about?”  

Agatha’s gaze flicked again over Rio’s shoulder, her smile sharpening as though confirming something. “Just making a point,” she said, sitting back but keeping her hand resting lightly on Rio’s arm.  

Rio’s heart was still racing, but she managed to muster a wry grin. “And what point was that exactly?”  

Agatha chuckled, “Winning,” but didn’t expand on her answer, leaving Rio with more questions than ever. 

They sat through a couple more items before Agatha grew bored and leaned back in her chair, letting the applause for the next auction item fade into the background. Her hand, still lightly resting on Rio’s arm, gave a subtle squeeze before she withdrew. “Are you hungry?” she asked casually, as though they hadn’t just engaged in a bizarrely intimate performance.  

Rio blinked, her mind still catching up to everything. “Uh, no. I’m good. Unless you are?” She managed a half-smile, trying to keep her voice even. “I’m just here to follow your lead, remember?”  

Agatha’s lips quirked her expression somewhere between amusement and satisfaction. “Good answer,” she murmured, standing with fluid grace. She adjusted the elegant drape of her dress and glanced at Rio. “Let’s call it a night. My car is waiting.”  

Rio rose reluctantly, her fingers brushing over the buttery-soft leather of the jacket she still wore. Her heart was still pounding, and the idea of sitting next to Agatha in the close confines of her car felt like a dangerous proposition.  

“I, uh, think I’ll just catch the bus,” Rio said quickly, keeping a healthy distance as they made their way to the door.  

Agatha’s brows lifted in surprise, but then her expression softened into something that looked suspiciously like understanding. “The bus?” she repeated, her tone amused. “You’re wearing an outfit that costs more than some people’s rent, and you’re going to ride public transit?”  

Rio shrugged, trying to look nonchalant. “It’s efficient.”  

Agatha shook her head, her laugh low and indulgent. “If you insist.” She gestured toward the door, signaling for Rio to precede her.  

As they stepped out into the crisp night air, Rio instinctively moved to shrug off the jacket, holding it out to Agatha. “Here. Thanks for letting me borrow it.”  

Agatha turned, and her eyes flicked to the jacket before meeting Rio’s gaze. Her expression was firm but not unkind. “Keep it,” she said, her voice leaving no room for argument.  

“What?” Rio stared at her. “I can’t—this thing is… it’s worth—”  

“I know exactly what it’s worth,” Agatha interrupted smoothly, stepping closer. She adjusted the collar of the jacket with practiced ease, her fingertips grazing the lapel. “You look good in it. And when I give someone a personal gift, I mean it.”  

Rio swallowed, her throat suddenly dry. “A gift?” she echoed.  

“Yes, a gift,” Agatha said, her smile almost teasing. “Not a loan, not a favor. A gift.” She tilted her head slightly, her gaze steady. “Unless you’d prefer to argue about it here in the middle of the street,” she added, a little bit of impatience creeping into her tone.

Rio shook her head quickly, her fingers gripping the edge of the jacket. “No, I—thanks. Really.”  

Agatha’s smile softened, and for a fleeting moment, she looked almost… tender. “Good.” She stepped back, her heels clicking softly against the pavement. “Be safe getting home, Rio.”  

Rio nodded, watching as Agatha turned and walked toward her car, the amber streetlights casting a golden glow over her retreating figure. She reached up, brushing her fingers over the lapel of the jacket, still warm from Agatha’s touch.  

It wasn’t until Agatha’s car disappeared down the street that Rio let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.  

She looked down at the jacket again, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Whatever she’d gotten herself into, one thing was becoming clear: Agatha wasn’t the kind of person to do anything halfway. 

On schedule, her phone buzzed with a notification. Rio stared at it, her thumb hovering over the screen. Six hundred dollars. For what, exactly? Showing up, sitting around, and… looking pretty, like she’d joked earlier? The number didn’t feel real. Combined with the jacket draped over her shoulders, it was too much. 

She exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “This woman,” she muttered under her breath, though a faint, bewildered smile still played on her lips. 

She tucked her phone back into her pocket and started toward the bus stop, the cool night air nipping at her skin. Despite the expensive leather cocooning her, she felt a little exposed, like people could see right through her and guess how disoriented she felt. 

The thought made her laugh quietly to herself. She ran a hand through her hair, still half-damp from the rush to meet Agatha earlier. Would she have done this for free? The answer came too quickly, startlingly honest. Yeah. Probably. 

The way Agatha’s lips had brushed her cheek, warm and deliberate, played on a loop in her mind. She knew it was nothing—Agatha had said as much with that whispered play along . 

And yet.  

Rio sighed as she spotted the bus pulling into the stop, its headlights cutting through the hazy mist. She climbed aboard, tapping her card against the reader, and found a seat toward the back. She slumped into it, staring out the window as the city blurred past. 

She thought of Agatha’s appraising gaze, the way she moved through rooms like she owned them, how she’d slipped the jacket onto Rio’s shoulders with a confidence that felt effortless. Everything about her was carefully curated, a masterclass in control.  

And yet, there’d been a flicker of something unguarded when she’d adjusted the jacket’s collar. Just for a moment, Agatha had looked… soft. Rio huffed. “Get it together,” she muttered to herself. 

She pulled out her phone again, scrolling to the transaction details. The note attached to the payment stared back at her.

Thanks for accommodating me short notice -A 

Brief, polite, detached.  

Detached was good. Detached meant she wasn’t in over her head.  

But as the bus rumbled along, Rio couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something beneath Agatha’s cool exterior—something Rio couldn’t name yet, but desperately wanted to understand.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Rio sat on the worn couch in their apartment, nursing a mug of coffee that was more sugar than caffeine. Jen, cross-legged on the floor in sweats and a tank top, was scrolling her phone with one hand and shoving a bagel into her mouth with the other.  

"So," Jen began, her voice dripping with mischief, "are you gonna tell me about your fancy date with rich power bitch Agatha , or do I have to start guessing?”  

Rio rolled her eyes, keeping her expression neutral. “It wasn’t a date. It was work.”  

“Right. Work that comes with a six-hundred-dollar paycheck and a designer jacket.” Jen grinned, leaning forward. “Seriously, I’ve been doing this longer than you, and no one’s ever handed me a jacket that I’m afraid to breathe on wrong. You gonna start cuddling it at night or what?”  

Rio shoved her lightly with her foot, scowling through the heat creeping up her neck. “Shut up.”  

Jen laughed, unabashed, and took another bite of her donut. “I’m just saying, that jacket’s like, top-tier sugar baby swag. You’ve got someone’s attention, that’s for sure.”  

Rio shook her head, trying to stay casual. “Agatha’s just… extra. I think that’s her whole thing.”  

“Uh-huh.” Jen raised an eyebrow, her tone skeptical but amused. She set her phone down and leaned back on her hands. “What’s she like, anyway? The mysterious, stupidly rich, step-on-you-if-you-ask-nice boss lady?”  

Rio hesitated, her fingers tightening around her mug. “She’s… complicated,” she said finally. “Sharp. Definitely used to getting her way. But there’s something else there too, like she’s carrying around more than she lets on. There was this whole thing where she outbid this other lady on the jacket… it was weird, but also hot?”  

Jen studied her for a moment, her teasing grin softening. “Sounds like she’s made an impression.”  

Rio snorted, trying to play it off. “She’s paying me. It’s not that deep.”  

“Mm-hmm,” Jen hummed, unconvinced. She took another bite of her bagel, chewing thoughtfully before continuing. “You aren’t getting weird about it, though? Like, going on these… not-dates for money?”  

Rio frowned, caught off guard, “Weird how?”  

“Like…” Jen gestured vaguely, her words careful but candid. “You know, the whole power imbalance thing. These people have money to throw around, and we’re just… us. It’s not an equal playing field.”  

Rio considered this, her thumb tracing the rim of her mug. “I mean, yeah, I’ve thought about it. But it’s not like I’m doing anything I don’t want to. It’s just a job.”  

Jen nodded, leaning her head against the couch she smiled knowingly at Rio as if she’d just confirmed something she wanted to hear. “Exactly. It’s a business transaction. It’d only be a problem if…” She trailed off, a sly smile creeping onto her face. “Well, if you caught feelings. And then couldn’t act on them because of the whole ‘weird power imbalance’ thing.”  

Rio shot her a look, her heart skipping uncomfortably. “That’s not happening.”  

Jen smirked, tapping her temple as though she’d uncovered a secret. “Sure, babe. Whatever you say.”  

Rio groaned and sank further into the couch, trying to ignore the way Jen’s words lingered, uncomfortably close to the truth. 

She coasted along the smooth pavement, the rhythmic hum of her skateboard grounding her as she made her way to the bar. The late afternoon sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the streets in a hazy golden light. She pushed off lazily, hands shoved in her jacket pockets, her thoughts circling back to Agatha—again.  

She had it bad.  

It wasn’t like Rio to get stuck on someone. Sure, Agatha was striking, clever, and carried herself like she owned the world, but this was just a job. You were supposed to play along, enjoy the company, and leave the night behind you when it was over. That was the one rule. Except, apparently, Rio’s brain hadn’t gotten the memo.  

She thought about the way Agatha had studied her, the weight of her gaze like she was trying to peel back the layers and see what made Rio tick. She thought about the low murmur of her voice when she whispered, “Play along,” and the feel of her lips brushing her cheek. A shiver raced down Rio’s spine, and she kicked the pavement harder, trying to skate past the memory.  

Just a job, she reminded herself.  

The bar was already lively when Rio arrived. She ducked behind the counter, tying her apron around her waist and slipping into the rhythm of the shift. The sharp tang of citrus and the sweet warmth of whiskey filled the air as she mixed drinks and worked the crowd, her thoughts finally starting to clear.  

And then she saw her.  

Or at least, she thought she did.  

For a split second, Rio’s heart jumped into her throat. A woman stepped into the bar, her dark hair falling in soft waves, her tailored shirt tight with a stiff collar sharp enough to cut glass. She moved with a grace that set her apart from the rest of the patrons, her chin held high as she scanned the room.  

Rio froze, her hand gripping the edge of the counter. It was Agatha. It had to be.  

But then the woman turned, and Rio’s breath hitched. The profile was wrong—the curve of her jaw, the tilt of her nose. And when she spoke to the bartender at the far end of the bar, her voice was all wrong too, higher and less composed.  

Disappointment hit Rio harder than she cared to admit. She forced herself to look away, ducking her head as she grabbed a fresh glass.  

Why are you even disappointed? she thought irritably. Agatha wouldn’t even notice you if she did come in. And that would be way worse.

It wasn’t that Agatha was rude; she just moved through the world with an efficiency that left little room for lingering pleasantries. She treated the people who served her with polite detachment, her focus always on the bigger picture.  

Rio shook her head, embarrassed at the rush of hope that had overtaken her for those fleeting seconds. Get a grip.

She focused on her work, falling into the rhythm of pouring, shaking, and mixing. Her mind stayed sharp and her hands steady, but every so often, her eyes flicked toward the door. She was losing it.

Rio worked through the distraction, and it ended up a decent night for tips, between this and her last date with Agatha her savings account would finally exceed double digits.

She made it home in the early hours, and did her best to slip into the apartment quietly, Jen took her beauty sleep very seriously. She shrugged off her jacket—the jacket—and paused, her fingers lingering on the supple leather. It still smelled faintly of Agatha’s perfume. Her chest tightened, and she shook her head sharply, she was imagining things.

“Get it together, Vidal,” she muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair. She headed to the kitchenette, grabbing a glass and filling it with water, hoping the cool liquid would douse the fire simmering in her stomach.  

Flopping onto her bed, she let out a long sigh and stared at the ceiling. Agatha had taken up too much real estate in her head lately, and it was starting to frustrate her. She’d had crushes before, sure, but nothing that felt like this—this magnetic pull that made her want to lean closer even when she knew she shouldn’t. Agatha burned hot and bright, and she was bound to get burned.

She needed to focus. Set a goal.  

“Five grand,” she said aloud, as if hearing the words would make them stick. “That’s it. Five thousand, and I’m out. No more gigs, no more... whatever.”  

It was a number she could work with. Enough to pay off some debts, pad her savings, and maybe take a breath without the constant pressure of scrambling for rent. She’d call it quits, and whatever fascination she had with Agatha would go with it.  

Satisfied with her plan, Rio set the glass on the table and stretched out on her bed. She closed her eyes, feeling lighter than she had in days. She’d figured it out. She’d be fine.  

Sleep came quickly, her body giving in to the exhaustion of the long day.  

But then, the dream.  

It started softly, like a whisper against her skin. The warm brush of fingers trailing along her jaw, the heat of a body close to hers. She could feel the weight of a gaze, sharp and intent, and her breath hitched as she turned her head. Agatha’s face came into focus, impossibly vivid, her lips curved into that enigmatic smile.  

“Rio,” she murmured, her voice low and full of promise.  

Rio couldn’t speak; her words were caught somewhere in her throat. Agatha leaned in, her perfume enveloping her, her lips brushing just beneath Rio’s ear. Every nerve in her body lit up as if she’d been set on fire, and she reached out, her fingers tangling in Agatha’s hair.

Then she woke up.  

Her eyes flew open, her chest heaving as she sat up in bed. Her heart was racing, her skin prickling with heat. She pressed a hand to her forehead, trying to steady her breathing.  

“I’m so fucked,” she muttered, running her hands over her face.  

The dream lingered, too real, too raw. Her skin still tingled where Agatha had touched her, and her lips felt like they were still burning from the ghost of a kiss.  

She buried her face in her hands, groaning softly.  

Five grand, she thought desperately, her resolve shaken. Five grand, and I’m done.   

Rio’s phone buzzed late in the afternoon, the notification pulling her out of her daydream. It was another text from Agatha, straightforward and without preamble, just like the others.  

"Are you free tonight?"

Rio frowned, glancing at the clock. Her shift started in two hours. She debated ignoring the message, but something about Agatha’s no-nonsense tone made her feel like she should respond.  

"I have a shift," she typed back, hitting send before she could second-guess it.  

The reply didn’t come immediately. In fact, several long minutes passed, enough for Rio to start thinking the conversation might be over. She set her phone down, trying to focus on the small tasks around her apartment.  

The buzz of her phone made her heart jump.  

"How much do you make on a shift?"  

Rio stared at the message, her brows knitting together. She barely had time to process it before her phone buzzed again.  

“I’ll double it. I have an important engagement tonight."

Rio blinked. She didn’t even get the chance to agree or argue before another message popped up—a location sent in Agatha’s typical succinct style.  

The audacity of it made Rio laugh, a sharp sound in the quiet room. “Does she think I’m just sitting around waiting for her texts?” she muttered to herself, even as a flicker of intrigue passed through her.  

She sighed and typed back, her irritation tempered by curiosity. "What should I wear?"   

This time, Agatha replied quickly: "The jacket."

Rio bit her lip, debating whether to push her luck. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard before she typed, "Just the jacket?"

She sent it before she could think twice, leaning back on her couch with a mixture of defiance and amusement.  The minutes stretched on without a reply. No little dots indicating Agatha was typing. No follow-up messages. Just silence.  

Rio shook her head, throwing her phone down on the cushion next to her. “Figures,” she muttered, standing up to pace. The lack of a reply wasn’t necessarily a bad thing—Agatha had probably decided to ignore her boldness. Still, the quiet felt like its own answer.  

Now, as the minutes stretched on without a reply, a pang of regret crept in. Maybe she’d overstepped.  

She set the phone down and went to the kitchen, hoping a glass of water would distract her. But even as she drank, her mind stayed fixed on the unanswered question. What if she thought I was serious?

The phone buzzed, the sudden sound making her jump. She grabbed it, her heart racing just enough to annoy her.  

Agatha hadn’t replied.  

Instead, the screen showed a deposit notification. Three hundred dollars—double her usual shift earnings on a great night—already sitting in her account.  

Rio barked a laugh, half in disbelief. She wandered to her closet, pulling out the jacket and tossing it onto her bed. Agatha’s silence lingered like a dare, a challenge Rio wasn’t sure she wanted to accept but couldn’t resist either. She slipped on a fitted black tee, cuffed jeans, and her best boots. The leather jacket was the final touch, its sleek weight resting comfortably on her shoulders.  

Rio caught her reflection in the mirror. She tilted her head, taking in the way the outfit clung just enough to make her feel bold. Maybe too bold. You’re just following directions , she reminded herself, brushing a hand through her hair. She left it down this time, hoping that the messy look would seem intentional.

Still, as she left her apartment and headed to the address, a flicker of curiosity gnawed at her. What was so important that Agatha, who commanded every room she entered so easily, couldn’t face it alone?  

When she arrived, she realized the neighborhood was far more upscale than she’d expected. The kind of place where everyone’s lawn looked professionally manicured, and the houses loomed like mini mansions. She nervously checked the address one last time before heading up the driveway.  

The house was alive with activity, soft music spilling through the open windows and the sound of laughter mingling with the clink of glasses. Rio paused at the front door, suddenly hyperaware of the sense of not belonging. She hesitated, her hand hovering just above the doorbell. Before she could decide whether to press it, the door swung open.  

Agatha stood there, framed by the warm glow of the house behind her. She looked as poised as ever, her black shirt waisted dress was casual, but her lips were painted a deep commanding red. Her gaze flicked down to Rio’s outfit, lingering on the jacket.  

“Perfect,” she murmured, her voice low but firm. She stepped aside, gesturing for Rio to come in.  

Rio hesitated just long enough to catch the faintest twitch of a smile on Agatha’s lips. “Decided against just the jacket, hmm?” Agatha said smoothly, her tone carrying an edge of amusement.  

Heat rushed to Rio’s cheeks as she stepped inside. “Well, you didn’t say if you hated the idea” she said, trying to match Agatha’s cool demeanor but feeling the words trip over themselves.  

“On the contrary,” Agatha replied, her voice soft but deliberate. She closed the door behind Rio, her hand brushing lightly against her arm. “This is a very... striking look.”  

Rio swallowed hard, determined not to let her nerves show. Whatever she’d walked into tonight, it was already clear—Agatha was already on the chase. For what, she couldn’t say.

“This your house?” Rio asked, looking around the intimidating foyer.

Agatha laughed and shook her head. “God, no. Much too ostentatious. New money.” She rolled her eyes in distaste. “No, it’s the home of one of my business partners.”

“Okay, so it was an emergency for me to come have dinner with your business partner or whatever,” Rio raised a brow, “because?”  

“Aren’t we curious? Because,” Agatha continued, her tone taking on a slight edge, “I expect my ex-wife to be here. I don’t particularly feel like dealing with that alone. Or sober.”  

Rio straightened slightly, the revelation catching her off guard. “Ex-wife?”  

“Yes.” Agatha’s lips curved faintly, though it was more wry than amused.

Rio hesitated, then asked, “So... who is she?”  

Agatha’s expression didn’t change, but there was a flicker of something behind her eyes—something cold and sharp, like the glint of a blade.  

You’ll see,” she said simply, her tone leaving no room for further questioning. “Tonight is a fundraiser,” she said, her tone carefully neutral. “Hosted by my investor who also happens to be a rather enthusiastic supporter of my ex-wife’s campaign.”

Rio blinked, processing that revelation. “Your ex-wife is…a politician?”

Agatha’s lips twitched with the faintest hint of a smirk. “State Senator Ashley Calloway,” she said, the name rolling off her tongue like a challenge. “You may have heard of her.”

Rio choked on a laugh. “Uh, yeah.” She leaned forward, intrigued. “Why are you here in support if she’s your ex? Couldn’t you just—”

“Skip it?” Agatha interrupted, arching a brow. “I could, but it would be... unwise. The host, Mr. Thatcher, happens to be one of her largest campaign donors. And also, inconveniently, a key investor in one of my ventures. It’s not exactly a choice.”

Rio shook her head, leaning back in her chair. “Mixing work and pleasure—that sounds messy.”

Agatha let out a dry laugh, low and bitter. “You have no idea.” Her eyes flicked to Rio’s face, studying her with amusement. “But don’t worry. You’ll do just fine tonight. Thatcher is easily charmed, and Ashley... Well, she’ll take note that I didn’t show up alone.”

Rio raised her glass in a mock toast, grinning despite herself. “Glad I can help you make a statement, I guess.”

Agatha tilted her head, a flicker of something softer crossing her features. “You’re more than a statement. Trust me on that.”

Rio swallowed hard, tugging at the hem of her jacket. “Wow. Subtle, huh?”  

Agatha smirked, “It’s not meant to be subtle,” she said, glancing back at Rio and offering her hand. “Come on. Try not to look like you’re about to bolt.”  

Rio hesitated for a fraction of a second before taking Agatha’s hand. The touch was brief, cool and steady, but it grounded her as they moved through the house and to the back garden. Here, about fifty people were gathered, and Agatha guided her through the crowd with a practiced smile. She leaned in close to Rio as they crossed to the drink cart, her voice low and teasing. “Smile a little, darling. You’ll give them the wrong impression. Try to look like my date and not a hostage.”  

Rio forced a grin, though her pulse raced. The attention was unnerving, but Agatha seemed utterly at ease, exchanging a few polite nods with familiar faces.  

Agatha took two punch glasses from the bar, handing one to Rio. “Stick close,” she murmured, her tone light but firm. “Thatcher likes to talk, is dreadfully boring, and I’ll need someone to keep me entertained.”  

Rio raised a brow. “Is that what I’m here for?”  

Agatha smiled faintly, her eyes glinting with amusement. “That and to look devastatingly attractive, which you’re already doing. So, well done.”  

Rio took a sip of her drink, trying not to flush under Agatha’s gaze. “And your ex? Where’s she in all this?”  

“Over there.” Agatha’s voice lost its playfulness, and she tilted her glass slightly toward a cluster of people near the center of the room.  

Rio followed her gaze and recognized her immediately. Ashley Calloway was magnetic, her short silver-blonde hair catching the light as she laughed at something a man next to her said. She wore a tailored emerald dress that stood out even in the crowd, her every movement exuding authority and charm. Rio also instantly realized that she was the woman who had furiously tried to outbid Agatha for the jacket that Rio was now wearing.

“I’m guessing none of this was a coincidence,” Rio said quietly. “You set this up.”  

Agatha huffed a dry laugh. “But of course. I'm never caught on the back foot.”  

As if sensing their attention, Ashley glanced over. Her smile faltered briefly, and her gaze swept between Agatha and Rio before settling on Agatha with a look that Rio couldn’t quite decipher—equal parts curiosity and challenge.  

“Well, this should be fun,” Agatha muttered under her breath, draining her glass and setting it on a nearby table.  

Before Rio could respond, a portly man in an tan suit approached, beaming at Agatha. “Ms. Harkness! A pleasure to see you.”  

"Mr. Thatcher,” Agatha said smoothly, her demeanor shifting into something polished and professional. She gestured toward Rio. “This is Rio, my guest for the evening.”  

Thatcher’s eyes lingered on Rio for a beat longer than necessary before he extended a hand. “Charmed. And what do you do, miss?”  

Rio froze for a moment, unsure how to answer, but Agatha interjected smoothly. “She’s in the hospitality industry. Very talented.”  

Rio fought the urge to laugh at Agatha’s artful dodge and shook the offered hand. “Nice to meet you.”  

As he launched into a conversation about the evening’s proceedings, Rio’s attention drifted back to Agatha’s ex. The senator was watching them now, her expression inscrutable. When their eyes met, she arched a brow ever so slightly, and Rio felt the weight of the unspoken question: Who are you, and why are you with her?

Rio took another sip, her pulse quickening. Whatever she’d gotten herself into, it was a lot more complicated than she’d anticipated.  

She didn’t have to wait long for the inevitable. The senator excused herself from her group and crossed the yard with deliberate ease. Heads turned as she moved, but her sharp, grey-blue eyes were focused solely on Agatha.  

“Agatha,” she said, her voice low and rich with a practiced warmth. She stopped just short of their table, her gaze briefly flickering to Rio.

“Ashley,” Agatha replied smoothly, her smile all edges and no warmth. “How nice to see you. You always did have a flair for making an entrance.”  

Ashley’s lips curved into a faint smirk. “Guilty as charged.” Her attention shifted to Rio, studying her with the same shrewd intensity she seemed to apply to everything. “And you are?”  

Rio swallowed hard but held her ground. “Rio,” she said, keeping her voice steady. She extended a hand, which Ashley took with a grip that was firm but not overpowering. “Nice to meet you.”  

“A pleasure,” Ashley said, her tone light but vaguely dismissive as she released Rio’s hand. “I was beginning to think Agatha was too busy for these sorts of events. It’s nice to see her out and about again.”  

Agatha’s smile tightened. “I make time for what matters.”  

Ashley’s smirk deepened, a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. “Well, we’re all capable of firsts I suppose.” She turned her attention back to Rio, tilting her head slightly. “So, Rio, what do you do?”  

“She’s in hospitality,” Agatha cut in before Rio could answer, her tone carrying just enough weight to signal she was done with the small talk.  

Ashley raised a brow, clearly unimpressed with the deflection, but didn’t press. Instead, she leaned slightly closer to Agatha, her voice dropping just enough to make it private. “You should have let me know you were coming tonight. It would’ve saved us both the surprise.”  

“I didn’t think it was necessary,” Agatha replied coolly. “It’s not as if we’re still coordinating calendars, dear.”  

“Indeed.” Ashley straightened, her gaze lingering on Agatha for a moment before she offered a polite smile. “Well, enjoy your evening. I’m sure we’ll cross paths again before the night is over.”  

“Of course,” Agatha said with a pointed edge, watching as Ashley sauntered away.  

Rio let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “She’s... intense.”  

“That’s one word for her,” Agatha said, her tone dry. She picked up her glass and took a slow sip, her eyes following her ex across the room. “She’s also tenacious, calculating, and completely unbothered by stepping on people to get what she wants.”  

Rio leaned back in her chair, studying Agatha. “Sounds like you two have a lot in common,” she teased

That earned her a startled laugh from Agatha, her first genuine reaction of the evening. “Touché. You might be onto something.”  

Rio grinned. “So, what’s the plan now? Do I just sit here and look brooding while you two have a staring contest?”  

Agatha tilted her head, amusement flickering in her eyes. “Don’t tempt me. But no, I think it’s time we mingle. Come on.”  

She stood and extended a hand toward Rio, her sharp confidence back in full force. Rio hesitated, then placed her hand in Agatha’s, letting the other woman pull her to her feet.  

“Lead the way,” Rio said, her voice steadier than she felt.  

Agatha smiled, a glint of mischief in her expression. “With pleasure.”

As the evening drew on, Rio followed Agatha through a maze of polite small talk and strategic positioning. Agatha was a master at the art of conversation, shifting seamlessly between charm and demand. Like a chameleon, she shifted between conversations, and it was obvious how many people were just like Rio, caught in her spell. However, Rio could sense the tension lurking just beneath her polished exterior whenever her ex entered their orbit.  

By the time the stump speeches began, Agatha had strategically positioned them at a corner table near the exit. She seemed content to let the event’s hosts take the spotlight—until the senator herself stepped up to the podium.  

“Before we move on to our next segment,” Ashley said smoothly, her voice ringing with authority, “I’d like to take a moment to thank all of our wonderful sponsors for their support.”  

The crowd murmured their approval, applause breaking out as Ashley gestured to a handful of high-profile attendees. Then her gaze landed squarely on Agatha, her smile sharpening.  

“And, of course, a special thanks to Agatha Harkness of the Salem Company,” Ashley continued, her tone taking on a silkier edge. “Her contributions to this city and my campaigns over the years are unparalleled, and her work has so positively touched many of us here.” There was a murmur of laughter in the crowd that Rio didn’t quite understand. She really needed to remember to Google her name later. “Agatha, would you mind coming up and saying a few words? For old times’ sake?”  

The crowd turned expectantly toward Agatha, who froze for a split second. Rio saw the way her fingers tightened around the stem of the wine glass she’d acquired, her knuckles whitening.  

Ashley’s expression was sweetly expectant, but Rio recognized it for what it was: a calculated jab, designed to put Agatha on the spot.  

Agatha rose smoothly, her face a mask of poise as she made her way to the podium. The applause was warm, and Agatha nodded graciously as she took the microphone.  

“Thank you, Senator Calloway,” she said, her voice cool but steady. “And thank you to everyone here tonight for supporting such an important campaign. It’s a privilege to be part of a community that values such collaboration and generosity.”  

She paused, her eyes scanning the room, lingering briefly on Ashley before continuing. “Events like this remind us that progress isn’t achieved in isolation. It’s built on partnerships, on trust, and on a shared vision for the future. And that’s certainly worth something worth celebrating.”  

The crowd erupted in applause as Agatha stepped back from the microphone, her lips curving into a small, tight smile. She returned to her seat with deliberate grace, but Rio could see the storm brewing behind her composed exterior.  

“That was charming,” Rio whispered as Agatha sat down.  

Agatha didn’t respond immediately. She picked up her glass, drained the rest of her wine in one elegant swallow, and leaned toward Rio.  

“We’re leaving,” she hissed, her voice low and sharp.  

Rio blinked. “Now?”  

“Yes.” Agatha’s eyes flicked back toward the stage, where Ashley was smiling smugly as she introduced the next speaker. “Before I do something I’ll regret.”  

Rio didn’t argue. She rose and followed Agatha as she cut a determined path toward the exit, her steps brisk and purposeful. As they stepped outside into the crisp night air, Agatha exhaled sharply, tilting her head back and pinching the bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes for a moment.  

“Are you okay?” Rio ventured after a moment.  

Agatha opened her eyes and gave a short, humorless laugh. “That woman has been trying to undermine me for years, and I’ll be damned if I let her succeed in public.” She turned to Rio, her expression softening just a fraction. “Thank you for indulging me tonight. I owe you one.”  

Rio shrugged, her lips quirking into a small smile. “It wasn’t all bad. It was fun to see you in your element.”  

That earned her a real smile from Agatha, brief but genuine. “Let me call the car,” she said, reaching for her phone. Agatha’s sleek black car pulled up within minutes, and Rio hesitated for a moment before climbing in after her. The soft leather seats smelled faintly of Agatha’s perfume, that same subtle, enticing scent that seemed to linger everywhere in her wake. The same that had caused more than a few sleepless nights for Rio.

The silence between them felt heavier than usual as the car eased into motion. Rio glanced at Agatha, who stared out the window with a distant, calculating expression. 

“Well,” Rio drawled finally, breaking the tension. “Sorry your ex-wife sucks.” 

Agatha’s lips twitched at the corners, though her gaze remained fixed on the passing cityscape. “Most exes do,” she replied coolly. “They become exes for a reason.” 

Rio chuckled softly, leaning back in her seat. “Fair enough. Can’t argue with that.” 

Agatha turned her head, studying Rio with an intensity that made her heart thud in her chest. Her eyes seemed to search for something, though Rio wasn’t sure what. 

After a beat, Agatha straightened and tapped lightly on the glass separating them from the driver. “Change of plans,” she said smoothly. “Take us to a bar.” 

Rio raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “A bar?” 

“Yes,” Agatha replied, turning her attention back to Rio. “And since you’re the expert on... this sort of thing,” she gestured vaguely, “I’ll let you recommend one.” 

Rio smirked. “Depends. What kind of night are you looking for? Somewhere to bitch about exes? Or somewhere where the drinks are strong enough to forget them?” 

Agatha’s laugh was low and genuine, a warm sound that caught Rio off guard. “Why not both?” 

Rio shook her head, grinning. “All right, I know a place.” She rattled off an address to the driver, and Agatha leaned back in her seat, a small, satisfied smile on her lips. 

The rest of the drive was quiet, save for the soft hum of the car engine. Rio tried not to fidget, but the proximity was getting to her. Every time the car hit a bump, their arms brushed, and the faint scent of Agatha’s perfume felt far more intoxicating than any drink she’d ever served. 

They arrived at a cozy, dimly lit spot tucked away on a side street. Inside, the atmosphere was lively but not overwhelming—just loud enough to keep their conversation private. Rio ordered two drinks at the bar while Agatha found a quiet booth in the back.  

When Rio joined her, setting down their glasses, Agatha raised hers in a mock toast. “To exes,” she said dryly.  

Rio snorted, clinking her glass against Agatha’s. “Exes.”  

They both took a sip, and for the first time all evening, Agatha seemed to relax. Rio leaned back in her seat, watching her with growing curiosity. Whatever storm had been brewing in Agatha earlier seemed to have dissipated, leaving behind a woman who was, for the moment, disarmingly human. 

“So,” Rio ventured, setting her glass down. “Was it worth it?” 

Agatha tilted her head. “Was what worth it?” 

“Going tonight. Dealing with her. Buying a ten thousand dollar jacket to make her jealous or whatever.” 

Agatha considered that for a moment, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “Ask me again after the next drink,” she said with a faint smile. 

The next round of drinks arrived, and Agatha slid hers toward her with a casual elegance, her eyes fixed on Rio with an intensity that made her squirm.  

“Your turn,” Agatha began, her voice deceptively light. “Tell me something, Rio. Something real about you. Who are you? How’d you end up here?”  

Rio hesitated, swirling her drink in her glass. “What, like bartending? Or the whole... accompanying you to awkward fundraisers for money thing?” She glanced up with a wry smile, trying to deflect.  

Agatha’s lips curved faintly. “Both. Either. Start wherever you like.”  

Rio sighed, tapping her fingers against the table. She didn’t like talking about herself, but something about the way Agatha was watching her made it hard to refuse. “Well, bartending was easy enough to fall into. Flexible hours, decent tips, no one really asks too many questions.” She shrugged. “As for the other thing... I guess it started because I needed the cash. But, uh, Jen—my friend—she made it seem less... weird. Like, it’s just another hustle, you know? No strings, no expectations. Just money for time.”  

Agatha leaned forward slightly, her expression unreadable. “And you’re fine with that? No strings, no expectations?”  

Rio raised an eyebrow, starting to feel the faint prickle of discomfort. “It works,” she said cautiously. “But why are you asking?”  

The slight shift in Agatha’s demeanor was immediate. Her smile disappeared, replaced by a cool, detached expression. She leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms loosely. “I typically like to know about the people in my life,” she said, her tone frosty. “But if you’d rather keep this strictly business, that’s fine with me.”  

The words hit harder than Rio expected, and she winced internally. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said quickly, trying to salvage the moment.  

Agatha lifted her glass, taking a deliberate sip before setting it back down. “It’s fine,” she said evenly.  

But it wasn’t, and Rio could feel the tension creeping back in between them. She cursed herself for ruining the moment. It had been so easy earlier, and now it felt like she was clawing her way back to solid ground.  

“So...” Rio began, forcing a smile as she leaned her elbows on the table. “When you say ‘people in your life,’ am I supposed to feel special or just... moderately interesting?”  

Agatha’s lips twitched, the barest hint of amusement breaking through her icy exterior. “That depends,” she replied, arching an eyebrow. “Do you want to feel special?”  

Rio laughed softly, shaking her head. “I’ll let you figure that one out. I think you already know.”  

Agatha’s expression thawed further, and Rio let out a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She nudged her glass toward Agatha’s. “Truce?”  

Agatha studied her for a moment before clinking her glass against Rio’s. “Truce,” she agreed, though her tone carried a faint edge.  

Rio laughed again, and just like that, the tension ebbed. It wasn’t entirely gone—Agatha’s sudden shift earlier lingered in the back of Rio’s mind—but for now, she’d take what she could get.

The drinks kept coming, and so did the easy banter. The edge from earlier dissolved into a comfortable haze, the kind of spell that only a light buzz and good company could conjure. Agatha had moved her chair closer at some point—Rio wasn’t sure exactly when—and the occasional brush of her fingers against Rio’s arm or knee was starting to feel a lot less accidental.

Rio tried to play it cool, but every touch set her nerves alight. Agatha’s fingers lingered just a moment too long on her wrist as she gestured for another round. When she leaned in to tell a joke, her lips barely a breath away from Rio’s ear, Rio was sure her face was turning scarlet.  

“You’re blushing,” Agatha murmured, her voice low and teasing.  

“I’m not,” Rio protested, taking a quick sip of her drink and avoiding Agatha’s eyes.  

Agatha laughed, a soft, low sound that made Rio’s pulse quicken. She rested her hand on Rio’s knee, light at first, then firmer, her thumb brushing over the fabric of Rio’s jeans in a way that sent shivers up her spine.  

Rio glanced at her, trying to gauge whether this was intentional or just the alcohol. But when Agatha caught her looking, her lips curled into a slow, knowing smile, and she didn’t move her hand.  

Oh, it was definitely on purpose.  

The tension between them thickened, a charged current that Rio could practically feel in the air. Agatha leaned closer, her hand still on Rio’s knee, her voice dropping to a husky murmur. “You’re awfully quiet all of a sudden. Something on your mind?”  

Rio opened her mouth to respond, but her brain short-circuited when Agatha’s fingers drifted just slightly higher. She closed her eyes briefly, willing herself to stay composed. “Just, uh... enjoying the company,” she managed, her voice embarrassingly shaky.  

Agatha’s grin widened, and for a moment, Rio thought she might lose whatever fragile grip she had on her self-control. But just as Rio leaned slightly toward her, Agatha’s phone buzzed loudly on the table.  

Agatha’s expression darkened immediately, and she let out an annoyed sigh. She picked up the phone, her eyes narrowing at the screen before answering. “What?”  

Rio caught the clipped tone and the tightness in Agatha’s jaw as she spoke, though her words were too low for Rio to hear. After a brief exchange, Agatha hung up and set her phone down with a sharp exhale.  

“Trouble?” Rio ventured cautiously.  

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Agatha said, her tone brisk. She stood, smoothing her dress and tossing some cash onto the table. “But I do have to go. Duty calls.”  

Rio nodded, trying not to look too disappointed. “Well, thanks for the drinks.”  

Agatha paused, her gaze softening as she looked down at Rio. “Thank you for the company,” she said, her voice quieter now.  

Before Rio could respond, Agatha leaned down and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Unlike the one at the gala, this kiss wasn’t for show. It lingered just long enough for Rio to feel the warmth of Agatha’s lips against hers.  

When Agatha pulled back, her eyes met Rio’s for a split second—soft, unreadable, and entirely too tempting. She smiled, picking up a cocktail napkin and wiping away the lipstick stain she'd left with a quick swipe of her thumb.

“Goodnight, Rio,” she said, her voice like velvet as she turned and walked away.  

Rio sat there for a moment, stunned. She reached up, her fingers brushing the spot on her cheek where Agatha’s lips had been, her eyes lingering on the red smudge left on the napkin. This time, there was no crowd, no performance, no game.  

It was just for her.

And she was completely fucked.

Chapter Text

The muffled knocking at her door pulled Rio from her feverish haze. Her head felt like it was stuffed with cotton, and every breath scratched at her throat. She groaned, burying her face deeper into her pillow.  

“Rio! Open up!” Jen’s voice came through the door, high-pitched and insistent.  

Rio winced at the noise. “What?” she croaked, her voice hoarse.  

“Are you dead in there?”  

“Not yet.”  

“Well, based on the way you sound, you’re pretty damn close” Jen’s tone softened slightly. “Seriously, Rio, you need to go to a doctor. You’ve been holed up in there for three days, and it sounds like you’re coughing up a lung.”  

“I’m fine,” Rio rasped, though the congestion in her chest made the statement sound far from convincing. “Just a cold. It’ll pass.”  

Jen sighed audibly from the other side of the door. “You’re coughing, you’ve got chills, and you’re running a fever. That’s not just a cold.”  

Rio didn’t respond. She didn’t have the energy to argue, and truthfully, she felt worse than she wanted to admit. But the thought of a doctor’s bill—lab tests, prescriptions, whatever else they’d throw at her—made her stomach churn.  

“You know I don’t have insurance, Jen,” she finally said, her frustration bleeding through her exhaustion. “I’m not wiping out my savings because I caught something from work. Just let me sleep.”  

There was a beat of silence. Then the unmistakable hiss of Lysol being sprayed at the door.  

“Seriously?” Rio asked weakly.  

“I’m a germaphobe, Rio. You know this. And your room is officially ground zero of the plague.”  

Another spray.  

“Jesus,” Rio muttered, dragging herself to sit up against her headboard. The room spun slightly, and she closed her eyes to steady herself.  

“I love you girl, but I can’t get sick,” Jen said through the door, her tone both apologetic and resolute. “I’m going to crash at Alice’s until you’re better.”  

Rio groaned, a small whine creeping into her voice. “What am I supposed to do if I run out of soup or something?”  

“I left two grocery bags by the door yesterday. Have you even opened them?”  

“No.”  

Jen let out an exasperated sigh. “God, you’re impossible. There’s cough syrup, crackers, ginger ale—everything a sick person needs. But please don’t make me come in there.”  

Rio smirked faintly despite how miserable she felt. “Nice to know you care, Jen.”  

“Don’t push it.” Another hiss of Lysol. “Text me if you need anything, but stay alive, okay? Alice doesn’t have room for all my stuff if I have to move out permanently.”  

Rio chuckled, which immediately devolved into a hacking cough.  

“Ugh, that sounds awful. I’m leaving,” Jen said dramatically. “Feel better. Or don’t. Your call.”  

Rio managed a weak laugh as she heard the front door close. She sighed and slumped back down onto her bed, exhaustion pulling her back into a restless sleep.

The room around her shifted, a blur of light and shadow that didn’t settle into anything solid. Rio blinked, and suddenly she wasn’t in her bed anymore. She stood in a dimly lit space that felt both familiar and strange.

She turned, and there she was. Agatha. Her hair was loose, wild around her face, and her expression was unreadable—somewhere between amused and inviting.  

“You’re here,” Agatha said, her voice low, carrying across the space like a melody.  

Rio frowned. “Where is here?”  

Agatha smiled, a slow curve of her lips that sent a shiver down Rio’s spine. “Wherever you want it to be.”  

Rio stepped closer without meaning to, drawn by something she couldn’t name. Agatha tilted her head, watching her with eyes that seemed to see straight through her.  

“You look terrible,” Agatha said, her tone light but edged with concern.  

Rio huffed a laugh. “Thanks.”  

Agatha stepped forward, her movements fluid, almost hypnotic. She reached out, her hand brushing against Rio’s cheek. Her touch was cool, soothing against Rio’s fevered skin.  

“You should rest,” Agatha murmured.  

“I thought I was.”  

Agatha chuckled, a low, throaty sound that made Rio’s stomach flip. “True enough.”  

Rio’s breath hitched as Agatha’s fingers trailed down, brushing her jawline, her touch lingering just a moment too long. “You’re burning up,” Agatha said softly, her voice laced with something Rio couldn’t quite place.  

Rio wanted to reply, to say something clever, but her throat felt dry, her words stuck. She was hyper-aware of how close they were now, Agatha’s scent surrounding her.

Agatha leaned in, her lips hovering just above Rio’s ear. “What are you so afraid of?”  

The question sent a jolt through her, but before she could answer, Agatha pulled back, her eyes locked on Rio’s. There was something in her gaze—intense, almost hungry—but it didn’t scare her. If anything, it made her heart race faster.  

Rio swallowed hard. “I don’t know.”  

Agatha smiled again, softer this time, but no less disarming. “Liar.”  

She leaned in, her lips brushing against Rio’s in a kiss that was both tender and searing. It wasn’t rushed, but it left Rio breathless, her knees weak. When Agatha pulled away, her fingers lingered on Rio’s chin, holding her in place.  

“You’ll figure it out,” Agatha whispered, tapping her cheek twice, her voice fading as the dream began to dissolve.  

The world shifted again, and Rio woke with a start, her heart pounding and her body drenched in sweat. The fever still clung to her, but it wasn’t the heat that had her shaken.  

Even before she had gotten sick, she had been moving through a haze since her last outing with Agatha. They had been just on the edge of something when Agatha had abruptly left. But there was no shaking the knowing smirk Agatha had given her. She was definitely playing with her, to what end Rio didn’t know.

And there was still something gnawing at her about the interactions they’d had with Agatha’s ex. Every sense Rio had told her there was a lot more to that story.

She still hadn’t looked Agatha up. Part of it was some noble resolution she clung to, a thought that she should allow Agatha to share what parts of her she wanted to in her own time. But her fragile grip on taming her curiosity was being weakened by how shit she felt, or maybe it was the prospect of not being able to see Agatha again until she got better.

As Rio stumbled to the kitchen to make a cup of tea she came to a decision.

If she was going to allow herself to be pulled into Agatha’s magnetic orbit, and she had to admit to herself that there wasn’t a chance of ignoring that gravity now, she deserved to know who she was dealing with.

Rio settled back into bed, her laptop balanced on her knees and a mug of tea on her bedside table. She hesitated for a moment, fingers poised over the keyboard, before typing: Agatha Harkness.  

The search results loaded quickly, but they were sparse. A LinkedIn profile that offered little more than a title: CEO, Salem Company. A handful of business articles about the company’s successes, though none were particularly enlightening. A promotional photo of Agatha from a Forty Under Forty list from a few years ago stood out—a sleek black dress, a faint smirk, and eyes that seemed to pierce right through the camera. She found a few articles from this year celebrating the business's philanthropic efforts.

Rio clicked through to the company website, but it wasn’t much help either.  

“Salem Company specializes in bespoke solutions tailored to our clients’ unique needs.”

“What the hell does that even mean?” Rio grumbled, scrolling through the vague copy and glossy stock photos. There was a “Contact Us” page and a form for inquiries, but nothing about what Salem Company actually did.  

Curiosity gnawed at her. She leaned back, sipping her tea, and hesitated again before typing: Agatha Harkness Ashley Calloway.

The top result was a news article from ten years back, its headline bold and dramatic:  

Power Couple No More: Senator Calloway and Harkness Split Amid Scandal.  

Rio’s heart jumped. She clicked the link and leaned forward, her mug forgotten. The article opened with a polished photo of Agatha and Ashley at some gala, both dressed to the nines. Ashley’s smile was radiant and perfectly placed, a politician’s smile, but Agatha’s was subtler—reserved, calculated.  

The article detailed their rise as a power couple. Ashley, a rising star in politics, had benefitted from Agatha’s financial backing and business acumen.

As Rio scrolled through some of the photos on the page, she couldn’t help but notice that the Agatha she saw in them was notably different from the one she’d met. She seemed, smaller, more likely to slip into a half step behind Ashley in the photos. Not at all like the woman Rio knew who thrived on commanding a room's attention. But they seemed happy enough in a polished and manufactured way. She skimmed a few more details that discussed how Agatha had transitioned into a campaign manager role shortly after their relationship went public.

Then came the scandal.  

According to the article, rumors of infidelity had swirled for months before explosive allegations surfaced: Agatha had been caught in an affair with one of Ashley’s campaign staffers. The fallout had been swift and brutal, tarnishing Agatha’s reputation and leading to their highly publicized divorce.  

Ashley had played the wronged spouse perfectly, issuing a statement about focusing on her constituents and moving forward. Agatha, by contrast, had remained silent, declining to comment on the allegations.

The article ended with a flourish, painting Ashley as a survivor and Agatha as a cautionary tale about ambition and excess. There was an editor’s note adding that any follow-up interview requests had been deflected, “Ms. Harkness declined further comment on her private affairs, she is fully focused on her company’s philanthropic efforts.” 

Rio sat back, exhaling slowly. She stared at the photo again, her eyes lingering on Agatha’s expression. Something about it didn’t sit right. The Agatha she knew—sharp, composed, always in control—didn’t seem like someone who’d let herself get caught so easily.  

She closed the article and scrolled through the related links, but they all told the same story, more or less.  

Her stomach churned. She closed her laptop and leaned back against the bed, staring at the ceiling.  

“Just business, huh?” she mused to herself, though the knot of unease in her chest refused to loosen.  

Something about the whole thing felt off.

As if she’d summoned her, Rio’s phone buzzed, and before she looked at the screen she knew who it was from.

She groaned and rolled over onto her side, her cough sending a wave of tissues falling over the side of the bed. Agatha would have to wait, she resolved. Right now, even looking at her phone was too monumental of an effort.

A few minutes later, her phone buzzed again. Of course, Agatha was not one to be ignored.

Rio fumbled with her phone, glancing at the two messages.

It’s been a truly terrible day. Are you free?

Not for an event, just dinner.

Rio stared at the messages, her fevered mind taking a moment to process. Dinner. No performance, no crowd, just the two of them. She thought back to her earlier fantasies, wondering what Agatha might be like when it wasn’t all for show. For a brief, irrational second, she considered saying yes, but her body protested the thought by wracking her with another coughing fit.  

She wiped at her nose and replied:  

Sorry, not exactly dinner company right now. I’m sick. My roommate has quarantined me.

She hit send and waited, unsure if she expected anything in return. A snarky comment, maybe. An overly polite get well soon if Agatha felt inclined to feign concern. What she didn’t expect was for Agatha to reply immediately.  

Diagnosis?

Rio frowned at her phone. The sharpness of the single-word message felt out of place. She typed back:  

Haven’t been to a doctor. It’s just a cold I need to sleep off.   

A minute passed. Then two. Rio checked her phone again. Agatha had read the message but hadn’t responded.  

“Seriously?” she muttered, setting her phone down with more force than necessary. Not even a half-hearted hope you feel better. It shouldn’t bother her, not really. But it did.  

She burrowed deeper into her blankets, trying to let her irritation dissipate, but her mind wouldn’t let it go. The lack of response felt like confirmation of what she already suspected: she wasn’t worth the effort. Agatha had better things to do, and people more important than her to dote on. She was convenient when she could serve a purpose, but when she wasn’t? Disposable.  

Her phone buzzed again, startling her out of her thoughts. She ignored it for a moment, then reached over reluctantly, expecting some throwaway comment or nothing at all.  

Instead, she saw a new message:  

Your address?

Rio blinked at the screen.  

Why? she typed back.  

The reply came almost immediately:  

Bartenders don’t usually carry great insurance.  

Rio stared at the text, her fevered brain trying to catch up. She started typing a reply, then stopped. Was Agatha serious? Was this a joke?  

Another message arrived before she could decide how to respond:  

Address?

Rio hesitated, her thumb hovering over the keyboard. This was strange, even for Agatha. But there was something about the briskness of the texts, the lack of pretense or flourish, that made her believe she wasn’t kidding.  

She sighed and typed her address, hesitating only for a second before hitting send.  

Whatever Agatha was planning, Rio had no energy to argue. She tossed her phone aside and sank back into her pillow, deciding she’d worry about it later—if she didn’t pass out first.  

Her phone buzzed again.  

Rest. I’ll take care of it.

Take care of what? Rio thought hazily as her eyes drifted shut. She didn’t have the energy to keep wondering.

The pounding on her door jolted Rio awake. She groaned, her head spinning as she struggled to sit up. The insistent knocking continued, and she stumbled out of bed, using the wall for support as she made her way to the door.  

“Alright, alright!” she rasped, her voice hoarse. She unlocked the door and opened it a crack, squinting at the figure on the other side.  

“Finally,” Agatha said, stepping forward and pushing the door open before Rio could protest. She breezed inside, wearing a sleek charcoal suit that made her look completely out of place in Rio’s cluttered, dimly lit apartment. A navy mask covered the lower half of her face, and she handed a spare one to Rio wordlessly.  

Rio blinked at her, bewildered as she pulled the mask on. “What the hell are you doing here?” she croaked, gripping the doorframe for balance.  

Agatha gave her a quick once-over, her lips tightening in disapproval. “I see why you’re sick now,” she said, gesturing at the mess surrounding them. Clothes, empty water bottles, and used tissues were scattered across the room. “This place is a biohazard.”  

Rio scowled, too drained to care about the insult. “I’m not in the mood,” she muttered, closing the door and leaning against it.  

“Good, we don’t have time for moods.” Agatha turned to her with a briskness that left no room for debate. “You’re coming with me. You’re going to see a doctor.”  

Rio let out a laugh that turned into a cough. “Yeah, no. No insurance remember?”  

“I heard you the first time,” Agatha said sharply. “That’s why I’m here.”  

Rio stared at her, trying to process her words through the fog of her fever. “What does that even mean?”  

“It means,” Agatha said, stepping closer and lowering her voice, “that I’m not letting you sit here and rot because you’re too stubborn to accept help. Get dressed.”  

“Dressed?” Rio repeated weakly, gesturing to her oversized T-shirt and sweatpants. “I’m fine.”  

“You look like you’ve been dragged through hell.” Agatha’s tone softened just slightly, though her expression remained firm. “I’m not taking no for an answer. Move.”  

Rio’s instinct was to argue, to push back against Agatha’s bossy tone, but she didn’t have the energy. Her head throbbed, her limbs felt like lead, and the idea of fighting Agatha seemed more exhausting than just going along with whatever plan she’d concocted.  

“Fine,” she muttered, trudging toward her bedroom. Glancing around, she gathered a sweater and a pair of jeans and pulled them on. “I didn’t realize I needed couture for a doctor’s visit,” she grumbled as she stumbled back into the living room. “I know you care about appearances, butー”

She stopped as she noticed Agatha perched primly on the arm of the sofa, her eyes scanning the apartment. She looked so out of place, but she was here. Why was she here?

“Honey, you already look like death warmed up, you don’t need to wear a spaghetti stained shirt to prove it.” Agatha snarked, looking over her new outfit. She nodded her head in approval. “Better. Come on. We have an appointment.” She stood and gently took Rio’s arm.

They made their way downstairs and Agatha steered them to the parking garage instead of the curb.

“You drove?” Rio asked, her voice muffled behind the mask.

Agatha rolled her eyes as she clicked the keys to unlock the doors. “Yes. Would you believe I’m capable of running a business and operating heavy machinery? I’m multi-talented.” She drolled, opening the passenger door for Rio. “I just don’t care to when I don’t have to. Do you have any idea how much time the average person wastes just sitting in traffic? I usually have much better ways to spend my time.” She slipped into the driver’s seat as she continued, “But, I try to give Ralph weekends off. I’m not a total monster.”

Rio smiled weakly and leaned her head against the cool glass of the window as Agatha pulled out of the parking garage.

She must have fallen asleep on the way, the next thing she knew, Agatha was leading her into a sleek boutique-style office. There was a heavy fog around her as nurses buzzed in and out of the room collecting her vitals. She mumbled her responses to their questions, Agatha keeping unusually quiet.

The voices around her were muffled, as if coming from underwater.  

“…temperature is concerning…”  

“…hydration is critical…”  

“…bloodwork results will confirm…”  

Rio stirred, blinking against the bright, sterile lights. She realized she was in an examination room now, reclining in a surprisingly comfortable chair. The edges of her vision were hazy, but one thing was clear—Agatha was still there, perched in an uncomfortable-looking chair across from her, her posture perfectly composed.

“Agatha?” Rio’s voice was barely more than a rasp.  

Agatha’s head turned toward her, her eyes sharp and assessing. “You’re awake,” she said simply.  

“What… is this place?” Rio asked, struggling to sit up.  

“Somewhere better equipped to deal with your stubbornness than your apartment,” Agatha replied, her tone clipped but not unkind. She stood and approached her, adjusting the blanket that had slipped off Rio’s shoulder.  

Rio frowned. “I told you I didn’t need all this,” she muttered.  

“And you were wrong,” Agatha shot back, her voice low. “You’re severely dehydrated, your fever’s high, and you’re on the verge of pneumonia. If I hadn’t intervened…” She trailed off, her lips pressing into a thin line.  

Rio let her head fall back against the pillow, her exhaustion too heavy to keep fighting. “What is this place?” she repeated, her eyes drifting to the sleek furniture and minimalist decor. It didn’t look like a regular clinic.  

“A private practice,” Agatha answered. “Discreet. Efficient.”  

Rio snorted weakly. “Of course it is.”  

Agatha didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she folded her arms and studied Rio for a long moment. “Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was? Why am I just finding this out? You shouldn’t have been left alone.”  

Rio shrugged, the motion small and weak. “It’s not your problem.”  

“Clearly, you’ve forgotten who you’re talking to,” Agatha said, her voice cooling. “I don’t involve myself in things unless I intend to take responsibility for them.”  

The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, Rio didn’t know what to say. She looked away, her gaze landing on the IV drip next to her.  

“I don’t… know what to say to that,” Rio admitted softly.  

“Then don’t say anything,” Agatha replied. “Just focus on getting better. The rest can wait.”  

Rio closed her eyes, letting the sound of Agatha’s voice wash over her. She should have been irritated, should have pushed back against Agatha’s heavy-handedness. But in that moment, the warmth of the blanket, the quiet hum of the room, and the subtle steadiness of Agatha’s presence felt like a lifeline.

For once, Rio decided, she could let someone else take the reins. Just this once.  

When she drifted back to consciousness again she heard the soft murmur of Agatha’s voice in conversation with a doctor.

Rio drifted in and out as the low murmur of voices filtered through the fog. Agatha's voice was distinct, cool and measured, though Rio couldn’t make out every word.  

“…she needs to be monitored for the next few days…”  

“And that won’t be a problem,” Agatha replied briskly, cutting off the doctor’s concern. There was an authority in her tone that brooked no argument, and the conversation quickly ended with the sound of papers shuffling.  

The next thing Rio knew, Agatha was at her side again, helping her to her feet. She vaguely registered the crinkling of a paper bag in Agatha’s other hand as she guided her out the door and back toward the car.

“Where are we going?” Rio croaked, her voice hoarse and weak.  

“Home to rest,” Agatha replied smoothly, not elaborating further.  

Rio blinked heavily as they drove, her body too drained to summon the energy to press for answers. The gentle sway of the car and the occasional click of the turn signal were oddly soothing, and before she knew it, they were pulling to a stop.  

The sound of the car door opening jolted her slightly, and she turned her head to see Agatha already moving to her side. She opened Rio’s door and helped her out, steadying her as they walked up the steps to an impressive brownstone. Its stately exterior was flanked by tall windows and elegant wrought-iron railings, a far cry from the cramped apartment Rio shared with Jen.  

“This…isn’t my place,” Rio muttered, her words slurring slightly.  

“No, it’s mine,” Agatha replied matter-of-factly, unlocking the door and ushering her inside.  

The interior was just as striking as the exterior, with polished wood floors, high ceilings, and an understated yet luxurious decor. Warm lighting bathed the entryway, and the faint scent of a lemon candle lingered in the air.  

“I can’t…” Rio started to protest, but Agatha cut her off with a look that silenced any argument.  

“You can,” she said firmly, her grip steady as she guided Rio through the house. “And you will. You’re in no condition to be left alone.”  

Too sick to argue and too overwhelmed to fully process her surroundings, Rio let herself be led up a flight of stairs and into a guest room. The bed was already turned down, the room furnished in soft, calming tones of gray and cream.  

“Sit,” Agatha instructed, helping Rio down onto the edge of the bed. She retrieved a glass of water from the nightstand and handed it to her.  

Rio sipped it gratefully, watching through bleary eyes as Agatha set the paper bag down and began unpacking its contents—medications, a thermometer, and a small humidifier.  

“You didn’t have to—”  

“Yes, I did,” Agatha interrupted, her tone leaving no room for argument. She straightened and turned to Rio, her expression softening just a fraction. “You’ll rest here until you’re better. No protests.”  

Rio didn’t have the strength to argue even if she wanted to. Instead, she let Agatha help her lie back against the pillows, the mattress soft and welcoming beneath her aching body.  

As Agatha adjusted the blankets around her, Rio muttered, “You don’t have to babysit me.”  

Agatha’s eyes softened and she hesitated a moment before brushing a strand of hair away from Rio’s forehead. “Maybe not. But I want to.”  

Rio’s eyelids grew heavy, and as she drifted off to sleep, she couldn’t help but wonder why Agatha cared so much. She didn’t have the chance to examine that thought further before passing out in the comfortable bed.

Rio blinked groggily at the faint light spilling into the unfamiliar room. The soft hum of a humidifier in the corner and the soothing tones of gray and cream walls reminded her she wasn’t at home. It was morning, she must have finally slept through the night. She reached for her phone on the nightstand and squinted at the screen, immediately met with a barrage of texts from Jen.  

10:14 AM

You alive in there?  

I checked on you, and you’re GONE??  

10:36 AM 

Okay, not funny, Rio. Where the fuck are you?  

11:00 AM

WAIT. Agatha Harkness texted me??? Said you’re with her???  

11:02 AM  

I’m going to save all the jokes for when you’re not dying, but OMG. I need this story.  

Rio groaned, tossing her phone onto the bed. Of course, Agatha had texted Jen. That settled it, she’d just have to stay here forever, Jen was going to be impossible to deal with.  

She sat up slowly, testing the strength of her legs before standing. Her body still ached, but the feverish haze had lifted slightly, and her head no longer felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. She glanced at the tidy guest room once more before padding barefoot out into the hallway, following the faint sound of music drifting up from downstairs.  

The scent of fresh coffee and something sweet led her into the kitchen. Agatha sat perched at the counter, her posture relaxed yet intent as she typed furiously on a sleek laptop. She wore a soft-looking tan sweater and dark leggings, her hair pulled into a messy knot at the nape of her neck. A pair of reading glasses perched on her nose, adding an uncharacteristically approachable touch to her usually polished appearance.  

The soft strains of jazz floated from a discreet speaker on the counter, mingling with the sound of her fingers tapping against the keys. A mug of coffee sat nearby, half-empty.  

Rio hesitated in the doorway, the domesticity of the scene catching her off guard.  

Agatha’s voice cut through the music without her even looking up. “She lives.”  

“Yeah,” Rio replied hoarsely, clearing her throat as she stepped into the kitchen.  

Agatha glanced up, her sharp eyes assessing Rio quickly. She reached for the mug and held it out. “You look better. Want some?”  

Rio shook her head. “Not really a coffee person. I like a whisper of espresso with my whipped cream and steamed milk.”  

“Tea, then?”  

Rio shrugged, leaning against the counter. “If it’s not too much trouble.” She tilted her head, studying Agatha with curiosity. “You look... different.”  

Agatha raised an eyebrow, sliding her glasses off and placing them neatly beside her laptop. “How so?”  

Rio gestured vaguely. “Less ‘I run a secret empire,’ more ‘Oh shoot I’m late returning my library books.’”  

A wry smile tugged at Agatha’s lips as she closed her laptop. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” She moved to the stove, where an electric kettle rested. “How do you feel?”  

“Better,” Rio admitted. “Still a little achy, but not like death warmed over anymore.”  

Agatha nodded, pulling out a box of tea and setting a mug in front of Rio. “Good. You needed the rest.”  

Rio watched as Agatha poured the steaming water over the tea bag, her movements calm and deliberate. “You told Jen where I was?”  

“She was worried,” Agatha said simply, sliding the cup toward Rio. “You were in no condition to text her back, so I did.”  

Rio huffed out a breath, feeling oddly exposed. “She’s never going to let me live this down.”  

“That’s what friends are for,” Agatha replied lightly, her eyes glinting with amusement.  

Rio took the tea, wrapping her hands around the mug as she studied the woman before her. Agatha was so composed, so effortlessly commanding even in a casual setting like this. Yet there was something softer, more human about her in this moment, and it made Rio’s chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with being sick.  

“So,” Rio ventured, “is this what you do when you’re not being the mysterious and terrifying Agatha Harkness? Harbor the sick?”  

Agatha snorted in amusement, and she leaned against the counter across from Rio. “Don’t tell.”  

Rio cradled the mug between her hands, staring down at it like it held answers for her. “Thanks,” she said, her voice softer than usual. “For everything. You really didn’t have to go this far.”  

Agatha tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “If you’re trying to get out of my hair, don’t bother. Doctor’s orders—you’re staying another day. At least.”  

Rio squinted at her. “Doctor’s orders? Or yours?”  

Agatha smirked, but there was something warmer in her eyes. “Does it matter?”  

With a sigh, Rio shook her head. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”  

“Good.” Agatha straightened and reached for the mug. “You’re due for another round of antibiotics. Take them and go back to bed.”  

“I’m fine,” Rio protested weakly.  

“Fine isn’t good enough,” Agatha shot back, the no-nonsense edge in her tone making it clear this wasn’t up for debate. She pointed toward the hallway. “Go. Rest. I’ll let you know when the food’s ready.”  

Rio narrowed her eyes but complied, dragging herself back upstairs. As she crawled under the covers, she found herself replaying the interaction in her mind. Beneath all the sharp edges and bravado, Agatha had seemed... concerned. Genuinely so.  

It was a side of her Rio hadn’t expected, and it made her stomach twist in a way she couldn’t quite name.  

By the time Rio woke again, the faint scent of something savory wafted through the air. Her body felt lighter, the fog of illness lifting just a little more.  

She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes before following the scent downstairs. As she entered the kitchen, she stopped in her tracks.  

Agatha stood at the stove, a wooden spoon in one hand as she stirred a pan of something that smelled incredible. The reading glasses were back on, perched at the tip of her nose, and her hair was still tied back in its casual knot. A bottle of red wine was open on the counter, a half-full glass beside it.  

Rio blinked. “You’re cooking?”  

Agatha glanced over her shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Don’t look so surprised. For someone on the edge of pneumonia a day ago you sure have a lot of comments.”  

“I just... figured you’d have someone else do it,” Rio admitted, stepping further into the room. “You know, like... a personal chef or something.”  

Agatha huffed a quiet laugh, turning back to the stove. “And miss out on the satisfaction of doing it myself? Hardly.” She plated the food with practiced precision, setting the dish on the counter before reaching for another plate.  

Rio hesitated, leaning against the doorway. “You didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”  

Agatha shot her a pointed look. “You slept for twelve hours and were still barely conscious this morning, Rio. The least I can do is make sure you’re eating something decent.”  

Rio didn’t know how to respond to that, the genuine concern in Agatha’s voice catching her off guard again. She moved closer, peering at the plate. “What is it?”  

“Chicken marsala,” Agatha replied, setting down the second plate and picking up her wine glass. “It’s simple enough, should help you feel human again.”  

Rio slid onto a stool at the counter, staring at the plate as if it might vanish. “You’re full of surprises, you know that?”  

Agatha sipped her wine, her lips quirking up in a small smile. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”  

Rio chuckled softly, picking up her fork. For the first time in days, she felt like herself again—and she couldn’t decide if it was the food, the care behind it, or just Agatha herself that made the difference.

She took the time to look around Agatha’s home. It was full of nice warm leather furniture, several large bookshelves dominated the living room, it would almost be too polished if not for a surprising number of more personal touches. 

A hand-knit blanket was draped over a high wingback chair, a vintage record player with a neat box of vinyls tucked underneath. Rio noticed that there were no pictures on the walls, but several large tasteful art pieces hung in a triptych above the fireplace mantle. It felt lived in, and surprisingly cozy.

She felt Agatha’s eyes watching her and she caught her gaze just as Agatha took another long sip from her wine glass. Agatha arched an eyebrow at her, waiting patiently.

Rio picked at her food, taking a slow bite as she let her eyes wander back over the space. There was something almost surreal about being here—about being cared for by someone like Agatha in her space.

She cleared her throat and glanced up at Agatha, meeting her gaze. "Nice place," she said, a little too casually, trying to avoid the growing weight of tension between them. "I wouldn’t have expected this kind of vibe from you." 

Agatha set her glass down, her lips curling into a small, knowing smile. "Why’s that? Because of my work? Or because of how I usually come off?" she asked, leaning against the counter with ease. 

Rio shrugged, trying to play it off, but her thoughts were running faster than she could keep up with. "I don’t know. It’s just… more comfortable than I imagined. Less polished and corporate. More… you." 

The look Agatha gave her then was sharp, but it wasn’t one of annoyance. It was something else. Like she was analyzing Rio’s every word, trying to figure out if there was something more beneath the surface of what she was saying. 

Agatha’s eyes softened just slightly, "Well," she said, her voice lighter now. "I might play the corporate game, but I didn’t build this house to feel like a boardroom. Everyone needs somewhere to just… let their hair down" Her lips quirked into a half grin as she watched Rio.

Rio blinked, surprised by the glimpse of vulnerability in her words. "It’s definitely not what I expected," she admitted, taking another bite of the food in front of her, finding comfort in the warmth it provided. "But I guess that’s the point, isn’t it? Everyone is a lot more than what they show others." 

Agatha’s eyes glinted with something unreadable. "I’m glad the fever didn’t get to your brain. You’re right." She paused, her tone turning slightly guarded. "It’s convenient for me. I get to be what everyone expects me to be, and they’ll never see the rest of it. The rest of me." 

There was an awkward silence that stretched between them, the words hanging like unfinished business in the air. Rio wanted to say something—anything—that could ease that moment of tension, but instead, her mind drew a blank. She wasn’t used to seeing this side of Agatha, and she wasn’t sure if it was something she should poke at or leave untouched.

Agatha’s gaze softened, though, as if she could feel Rio's hesitation. "Don’t get me wrong," she continued quietly. "I’ve built my career, very successfully, by being exactly who people expect me to be. But that doesn’t mean I’m just that. I’m not all business, you know?"

Rio swallowed, unsure if she should be speaking up, but feeling an inexplicable pull to understand more. "So, what else is there?"

Agatha set her glass down, looking at Rio as though she was considering her words carefully. "A lot. I’m sure if you did your research the gossip blogs would tell you all about it."

Rio frowned, letting her fork rest in front of her as she studied Agatha more closely. The woman across from her wasn’t the sharp-tongued businesswoman, nor the detached, intimidating figure she’d met at first. There was a weight to her—something complex and layered beneath her surface. The pull to know more about Agatha, to understand her deeper than the polished exterior, had only grown stronger the more time she spent around her. 

"Actually," Rio started, her voice soft, but curious, "I did look you up." 

Agatha’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. "Did you?" she replied, not masking the faint amusement in her tone. "I hope you didn’t waste too much time."

Rio leaned back slightly, letting the silence stretch between them for just a moment. "I’m still not sure what your company does," she said with a crooked grin. "I mean, it’s all ‘cutting-edge solutions’ and ‘innovative strategies,’ but what does that even mean? I couldn't make heads or tails of it."

Agatha laughed, a genuine, rich sound that caught Rio off guard. "Oh, you’re not the first to ask that. It’s one of those things people just nod at in meetings and pretend to understand. Let’s just say I help other businesses become better at what they do. It’s all about optimizing processes, analytics, you know the drill."

Rio raised an eyebrow. "So, you’re still just giving me a bunch of buzzwords?"

"Exactly," Agatha said with a grin. "A lady must keep some secrets."

Rio chuckled along with her, enjoying the rare easy moment. But the playfulness didn’t last long, as her mind wandered back to the other thing she’d uncovered. 

"I also read about your divorce," Rio said, the words almost slipping out before she could stop herself. "The articles were all over the place, but there’s a lot of blank spots."

Agatha’s expression shifted, the warmth draining from her face. She straightened, her fingers absently twirling the stem of her wine glass. "It’s old news," she said curtly, clearly hoping to shut down the conversation. 

Rio wasn’t so easily deterred. "Yeah, but there’s more to that story, right? You don’t just... leave someone like that. Especially not after what you helped build. And based on… well you, I don’t know, you don’t seem like the type to get swept up in some risky affair."

Agatha’s gaze flicked up, catching Rio’s, and for the first time, there was a crack in her usually composed exterior. She looked guarded, defensive, and Rio immediately regretted pushing. Still, that curiosity gnawed at her.

"That’s really none of your business," Agatha replied, her voice sharper than before. 

Rio didn’t back down. "Look, you don’t have to tell me everything," she said, leaning forward, "But don’t try to tell me it was as simple as ‘we just grew apart and I went looking somewhere else.’ I know that’s a lie."

Agatha set her glass down with a soft clink, her eyes hardening. “Let it go, Rio. It really is not your business."

For a moment, the room was silent, the air thick with tension. Rio could feel the walls going up again, the distance between them growing as Agatha withdrew into her defenses. She didn’t know what it was about the woman across from her—maybe it was lingering confusion from the gentle way Agatha had cared for her—but Rio couldn’t shake the feeling that Agatha was holding something back. Something important. 

Finally, Agatha pushed back from the counter, standing up and turning toward the hallway. "Now isn’t the time to talk about this," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. "If you’re done eating, you should probably get a shower. I’ll grab you a change of clothes clothes." 

Rio was about to protest, but before she could get a word out, Agatha had already slipped out of the room, leaving her alone with her thoughts. The conversation hung in the air, unanswered and unresolved. 

Rio sat in silence for a moment, the remainder of her uneaten food growing cold in front of her. Her mind raced, but she knew better than to push further for now. Agatha had made it clear she didn’t want to go there. 

Still, there was something about Agatha’s reaction that felt off, it confirmed there was more to the story—something Rio could almost feel but couldn’t quite reach. She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the nagging sensation that she’d just missed something important. 

Agatha returned a few minutes later, holding a set of towels and a pair of comfortable-looking pajamas. Of course, Agatha had matching pajama sets. "Upstairs," she said briskly, her face now carefully blank again. "I’ll be working in my office. Let me know if you need anything."

Rio nodded, standing slowly and walking toward the stairs. "Thanks," she muttered, more to herself than to Agatha.

But Agatha was already turning away, retreating back toward the kitchen. 

As Rio climbed the stairs, she couldn’t help but wonder if this was how Agatha had always dealt with things—keeping her emotions carefully controlled, only revealing what she wanted others to see. And for all Agatha’s bravado, Rio knew she was close to peeling back a layer from the crack in her foundation she had glimpsed.

She sighed and walked into the bathroom, trying to shake the thoughts out of her head. She didn’t want to press Agatha any further. Not tonight. But as she stepped into the sleek shower the questions lingered and spiraled into new ones.

Chapter Text

Rio slept better that night despite her mind refusing to slow down. After her shower, she hadn’t seen or heard from Agatha other than the faint click of a mechanical keyboard from the room next door. At one point during the night she’d thought she heard the door to her room crack open, but when she rolled over to check the heavy door was shut. 

Around two in the morning, she left her room to the bathroom and hesitated by the cracked office door. She heard the click of Agatha’s keyboard still humming well into the night.

Surely even Agatha had to sleep at some point. But it didn’t surprise her that she was still up.

“Did you actually die in there and choose to come back and haunt me as a ghost?” Agatha spoke softly, not looking up from her work, and it took a second for Rio to realize she was speaking to her.

“Uh, no.” Rio mumbled, shifting anxiously but not moving further into view.

“Then why are you hovering?” Agatha’s tone was slightly annoyed, but her expression was soft when she looked up at Rio, tilting her head to glance at her through the crack by the door. She smiled softly and gestured Rio into the room with a wave of her hand.

Rio paused before taking the invitation, opening the door, and stepping into the office. If the rest of the home was a peek behind the curtains of Agatha’s public persona, this room was ripping them from the walls entirely and letting her radiance burst through the windows.

A large mahogany desk sat in the center of the room, stacked high with papers, open folders, and the flickering laptop that Agatha had been tapping away at. Despite the chaotic work environment, everything else felt remarkably cozy. 

There was a heavy knit rug on the floor, its earthy tones softening the hard lines of the room, and a bay window ledge was crammed with potted plants overflowing the space. The walls here were lined with bookshelves that weren’t just filled with professional journals or business ledgers, but with well-worn paperbacks, poetry collections, and several loose notebooks. It felt like a refuge, as though Agatha had created this place to escape from the world she presented to the rest of it.

On the wall opposite the green velvet sofa, a corkboard was filled with snapshots—some professional, some decidedly personal. Rio couldn’t help but be drawn to one photograph in particular: Agatha and a woman who could only be her ex, sitting in the bleachers at a college football game. The two were younger, laughing, with their heads leaning toward each other in an intimate pose. Rio squinted at the date scribbled at the bottom corner—1997. The photo was worn at the edges, faded over time, but there was no mistaking the affection between the version of them captured here. 

Another photo caught her attention. A young girl—Agatha, Rio assumed—sitting on a horse, a blue ribbon in her hand, her face glowing with pride. She looked much younger, but there was a familiar confidence in her eyes that Rio recognized even now. The moment was frozen in time, full of an innocent kind of joy, completely removed from the woman who now watched hawkishly.

"Come on in," Agatha’s voice broke through Rio’s thoughts. Agatha had turned her chair slightly, and she stood, pulling a nearly threadbare flannel robe over her shoulders. Rio noted that it was a rare comfortable item that Agatha had deigned to allow. She’d half expected her to parade around her house in a ridiculous silk kimono. This plaid blue thing was ugly. She found it much more endearing than she should.

"You a secret vampire? Can only enter a room when you’re invited?" Agatha teased lightly, her voice playful, her eyes flicking to Rio’s fidgeting hands.

Rio rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. "I’m not sure why you’re so invested in what I do at two in the morning. But you made it clear you didn’t want me ‘hovering’" 

Agatha chuckled, "Good. Sit." She motioned toward the sofa—a deep, plush affair covered in mismatched throw pillows, its fabric just barely showing some wear at the corners of the arms.

Rio took the invitation, sitting down cautiously at the edge of the couch. The fabric was soft under her hand, and she couldn't help but notice how comfortable everything felt here, homey even.

She glanced up and saw Agatha settle beside her, the robe hanging loosely around her shoulders. She noticed a new faint wine stain at the collar of her sweater and smiled to herself. It had only taken until two in the morning, but here was evidence that Agatha was indeed human and capable of mistakes.

“Feeling any better?”

Rio shook her head from her thoughts but then nodded. “Yeah, Iー”

She was caught off guard, her words catching in her throat as Agatha leaned forward and pressed the cool back of her hand against her forehead.

“No fever.” Agatha hummed approvingly. Rio blinked and nodded, Agatha’s hand seemed to hang there a fraction longer than necessary before she withdrew it.

“I have an early morning tomorrow. But you’re welcome to stay as long as you need.” Agatha said, stretching back against the arm of the sofa. “And if you do plan on being stubborn and darting out of here, please don’t take the bus. There’s no need to infect half of Chicago with whatever you have. I’ll leave Ralph’s number. I’m sure he won’t mind.”

Rio nodded, not sure how to respond. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.” She shivered slightly even though the room wasn’t the slightest bit cold.

Agatha’s brow furrowed and she stood from the sofa to grab a blanket from the basket in the corner and drape it over Rio. Rio grumbled but allowed her to do so, turning her face slightly into the cushions as Agatha leaned over her. “You’re so concerned about me infecting others, aren’t you worried I’m going to get you sick?”

Agatha laughed gently before sitting down again, one leg tucked under herself. “No, I don’t let myself get sick. No time. I spend a small fortune on probiotics and boosters to avoid it.”

Rio couldn’t help another eye roll. “I thought you were smart enough to see through that bullshit.”

“Eh. If it works, it works. Only one of us is currently curled up in the fetal position on the couch.”

Rio grumbled even as she drew her knees up closer to herself. Agatha smiled fondly at her as she reached up and finally undid the clip holding her hair in place. She sighed softly as she shook it out, and Rio pulled the blanket tighter around her. Not to cover her expression, just because she was chilly, she told herself.

“Getting sick would give me a good excuse to ditch this wedding I have coming up though,” Agatha said casually. Rio waited a moment, expecting her to elaborate further. “Normally I’d just decline and send a ridiculously overpriced gift… but it’s an old friend, I don’t really have an excuse not to go.”

Rio hummed, fully rolling onto her side. For a moment, her feet brushed Agatha’s knee but she quickly drew them back up towards herself again. “You know for someone who demands exactly what they want all the time, you sure seem to go out of your way to do other people favors a lot,” she mumbled.

She couldn’t see Agatha’s expression but could hear her soft chuckle. “What can I say, I’m a real softie. Don’t tell.”

Agatha paused a moment longer before adding, “Before you got sick, I was going to ask if you’d be willing to join me. It would be a full weekend affair, it’s an annoying destination wedding. But I’m happy to take care of the details. If you want, later, we can talk about the cost of your time.”

Rio blinked, her mind still spinning from Agatha’s words. She had to admit, this whole thing with Agatha was still such a strange agreement. Agatha was beautiful, smart, wealthy, and powerful. The kind of woman people would kill to be around—easy to fall for. It was almost impossible to believe someone like Agatha was single. With all her accomplishments, charm, and effortless allure, it didn’t make sense. She was the kind of woman who could have anyone, and Rio couldn’t figure out why she was still on her own.

Agatha was a catch in every sense of the word. So why hadn’t someone else already snatched her up? Why was she ever looking to pay someone to play pretend?

"Alright," Rio said finally, shaking her head in quiet disbelief. She glanced at Agatha and nodded. "Sure, sounds fun."

Agatha’s smile brightened, and Rio noticed that for a moment, it looked almost relieved. Like she had been waiting for Rio to say yes. It made something in Rio’s chest twist unexpectedly, a mix of satisfaction and confusion. 

"Perfect," Agatha said, clearly pleased. "We’ll talk about the details later. For now, though, get some rest. You’ve had a long couple of days."

Rio nodded, exhaustion catching up with her. As much as she wanted to keep questioning Agatha’s motives, she found herself growing more and more tired by the minute. The couch was warm, the room quiet, and before long, her eyes fluttered shut.

She woke up on the sofa, at some point a pillow had been tucked under her head. She stretched and noticed a small ottoman had been pulled over, delicately balancing a tray with her medicine and phone along with a brief note.

DO NOT take the bus. I’m making carbonara tonight if that makes a difference in if you stay. Whatever you do, rest.

The last word had been underlined twice, and Rio traced her fingertip over the dent the drag of the pen had left on the paper.

She sighed and pulled up Jen’s contact on her phone. Unsure what to do, she needed a second opinion.

The phone barely rang twice before Jen picked up.  

"Well, well," Jen said, her voice laced with playful relief. "Look who finally decided to let me know she’s alive. I was this close to filing a missing person’s report."  

Rio smiled despite herself, sinking back into the sofa. "Sorry about that. I’ve been... distracted."  

"Distracted by what? Or should I say by whom ?" Jen’s tone turned teasing. "Did Agatha personally call the United States Surgeon General to oversee your care? Because that’s the only excuse I’ll accept for why you didn’t text me back. I bet she did."  

Rio groaned. "Oh, come on. It wasn’t like that."  

"Wasn’t it?" Jen fired back. "Because from what you told me about this woman, I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s got some billionaire-slash-secret-mob-boss-level resources hidden up her sleeve."  

"She forced me to go to the doctor and made me dinner, Jen. That’s it."  

"She cooked for you?" Jen gasped dramatically. "Oh no, not a home-cooked dinner. The most intimate and nurturing of all meals. You’re a goner, babe."  

Rio couldn’t help but laugh, the sound shaky but genuine. "I’m serious. She’s... I don’t know. She’s got this way of being all intimidating and business one second and unexpectedly kind the next. It’s throwing me off."  

Jen was silent for a moment, and Rio could hear the faint rustling of papers on the other end of the line. "Okay," Jen said finally, her voice softening. "Tell me what’s actually going on. Are you okay? Should I come get you?"  

"I’m fine," Rio said quickly, but the waver in her voice betrayed her uncertainty. "I just—should I stay here? Or should I come home? I feel like I’m in over my head."  

Jen sighed, her no-nonsense tone cutting through Rio’s hesitation. "Look, you know how I handle these things—I go out, I get paid, I come home. I don’t get treated by special doctors and invited to convalesce in some hot MILFs mansion or whatever. That’s not my world. But if she’s taking care of you, and you’re not, like, in mortal danger, then maybe just... go with it. Worst-case scenario, you get another, I’m sure divine , dinner and sleep on silk sheets or whatever. Best-case scenario, you figure out whatever this weird connection is."  

Rio hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. "You think I should stay?"  

"I think," Jen said, her voice turning teasing again, "you don’t need me to tell you what to do. But, since you asked, yes. Stay. Rest. Maybe let yourself enjoy being spoiled for once. God knows you need it. Get it out of your system before you do something stupid."  

Rio chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You’re insufferable."  

"Yeah, yeah," Jen replied with mock impatience. "Poor you. I feel so bad for you. It must be hard to get doted on and catered to by the hot heiress or whatever that you’ve got a massive crush on,” she added sarcastically. “I’m sure you’ll never recover.”

“Oh fuck off. I’m coming back right now and coughing all over your stuff.”

Jen responded sharply, “Don’t you dare. Stay there. I’m changing the locks, bye.”  

Rio laughed and hung up, her chest feeling a little lighter. Jen was right—she didn’t need to overthink this. She glanced down at the note Agatha had left, her eyes lingering on the underlined rest .  

So she did.

Rio spent most of the day napping, letting her body work through the last of her fever. By the time she felt well enough to wander into the living room, the sun was dipping low in the sky, bathing the space in warm, golden light. She shuffled around, tugging her blanket tighter around her shoulders, and made a small face at the lack of a TV.  

“Of course,” she huffed to herself. “She probably thinks Netflix is gauche or something.”  

Instead, her gaze fell on a bookshelf tucked neatly against the wall. Unlike the other shelves in this room, it was packed with hardcovers and paperbacks, each arranged with what felt like intentional care rather than purely decorative appeal. Rio’s curiosity won out, and she grabbed a book at random—a slim poetry collection with a well-worn spine.  

She settled onto the couch and flipped through the pages idly, stopping when she noticed the first of many dog-eared corners. Agatha had written in the margins with a fine, elegant script. The notes weren’t formal or detached—they were raw, honest impressions.  

Rio found herself smiling faintly, drawn into these tiny glimpses of Agatha’s inner world. The woman she thought she had figured out was, once again, proving to be so much more than she appeared.  

She was halfway through another poem—one that spoke about the bittersweet ache of losing your head to your heart—when the sound of keys at the door made her look up.  

Agatha stepped in, looking tired but still exuding her usual composed grace. When her gaze landed on Rio curled up on the couch, holding one of her books, her expression softened.  

"Feeling better?" she asked, setting her bag down by the door and slipping off her heels.  

"Marginally," Rio replied, smirking faintly. "But I’ve made an alarming discovery."  

"Oh?" Agatha raised a brow, crossing the room toward her.  

“You don’t own a TV.”  

Agatha sighed, dramatically rolling her eyes as if she’d heard this complaint a hundred times. She picked up a remote from the coffee table and clicked a button. A large “painting” that Rio had initially admired flickered to life, revealing itself to be a screen.  

Rio stared for a beat before groaning. “Of course. The painting is a TV. God forbid you just have a normal flatscreen like everyone else.”  

“It’s not my fault you lack imagination. A big black void would mess up the vibes.” Agatha teased, walking toward the kitchen.  

Rio shook her head but started flicking through channels anyway. She eventually landed on a documentary about deep-sea creatures, the soft narration filling the room while Agatha pulled ingredients from the fridge.  

The quiet domesticity of the moment settled over them. Rio wasn’t sure what felt stranger: how at home she felt here, or how much she didn’t want to leave.

“You ever caught crabs?” Agatha’s voice called from the kitchen over the sizzle of a pan.

“What?” Rio called back, glancing over her shoulder dumbfounded.

Agatha rolled her eyes in exasperation and gestured toward the screen where a weathered fisherman was pulling a pot over the deck and commenting on the contents. “Ever gone crab fishing? Or have you always been a city kid?”

Rio laughed and shook her head. “No. Born and raised here and never left. The ocean is creepy as fuck.” She paused for a moment before she raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Have you ever gone fishing?”

"When I turned eighteen I spent a summer in Maine with my dad. It was awful.” Agatha gave a dramatic shudder and flipped the veggies in the pan with practiced ease.

“Wait, I gotta know more. You spent a summer on a fishing boat?” Rio’s smile grew wide and her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Tell me everything. I cannot picture that. You, in wading boots and overalls, oh god please tell me there was an awful neon beanie involved.”

She could hear Agatha’s laugh carry with her as she emerged from the kitchen a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand.

Agatha set the wine and glasses on the coffee table, giving Rio a wry smile as she took a seat beside her. “No neon beanie,” she said, pouring a generous amount into each glass. “But there were overalls. And wading boots. I’ll spare you the mental image of the first time I tried to climb onto the boat and fell straight into the water.”  

Rio nearly choked on her laugh.  

Agatha handed her a glass, a mock-serious expression on her face. “Laugh all you want, but that was the moment I knew I would never be built for actual labor. My dad thought the little excursion would build character.” She took a sip of her wine. “All it built was a deep and abiding hatred for anything involving nets.”  

Rio grinned, swirling her wine lazily. “So, no fond memories of fresh caught dinners by the sea?”  

Agatha smirked, leaning back into the cushions. “Oh, I have fond memories. Just none involving actual crustaceans. My dad, though? He loved it. Said I’d be a disappointment to the family name if I refused to help pull the traps.”  

“That’s rough.”  

“Not really. I think by the time I went home he was secretly relieved. I was terrible at it.” Agatha chuckled softly, her eyes distant for a moment, lost in the memory. “I did like sitting on the dock with him after, though. He’d drink a beer, a couple of times he let me have one, and he’d tell me stories about his childhood. That part wasn’t so bad.”  

Rio studied her for a moment, her teasing smirk softening. “You miss him?”  

Agatha looked down at her glass, her thumb running along the rim. “Yeah. He’s been gone a long time, but… it doesn’t get easier. You just go on.”  

The air between them grew still, the kind of silence that didn’t need filling. Agatha took a deep breath and straightened up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Anyway,” she said lightly her voice turning to a familiar tease, “what’s your excuse for never leaving the city? Scared of what’s out there, or just lazy?”  

“Neither,” Rio said, grinning. “Too busy earning a living to go gallivanting off for seaside adventures.”  

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Sure. But you can’t tell me that you always had a passion for cocktails and small talk. What went down with your three-quarters of a journalism degree? If you’ve only lived here, I’m guessing Northwestern? People who get in there don’t usually flame out.”

Rio blinked, caught off guard. “How’d you know about that?”  

Agatha gave her a sly smile, leaning back into the cushions with an air of casual triumph. “You mentioned it before. Remember?”  

She had. She’d forgotten the off hand remark, but Agatha hadn’t.

Rio sipped her wine, using the moment to gather her thoughts. “Yeah, well, it didn’t pan out the way I hoped. I interned at a paper for a while, wrote some pieces, and even got a few bylines. But…” She trailed off, running a hand through her hair. “The pay sucked, the hours were worse, and it felt like I was running in circles trying to make a name for myself. Eventually, I just… stopped.”  

“Stopped?” Agatha tilted her head, her expression shifting from curiosity to something softer.  

Rio shrugged, looking down at the glass cradled in her hands. “Stopped trying. Stopped pitching. Stopped caring, I guess. I needed something more flexible, something that paid the bills, and bartending fell into my lap. It was supposed to be temporary, but here I am. At the same time, I had… personal stuff going on. I just stopped showing up to class, focused on making money instead.”  

Agatha watched her quietly for a moment before speaking. “Do you miss it? Think about going back?”  

Rio hesitated, the question stirring something she hadn’t thought about in a long time. “Yeah,” she admitted finally. “Sometimes. But it feels like… I don’t know, like that ship sailed a long time ago. I’m not sure I’d even know how to get back to it.”  

“Maybe it didn’t sail,” Agatha said, her tone thoughtful. “Maybe it’s just waiting for you to get back to it.”  

Rio laughed, the sound more self-deprecating than amused. “That’s easy to say when you’re not the one doing the swimming.”  

Agatha smirked, leaning forward to top off their glasses. “True. But you’re tough. Resilient. You seem like a strong swimmer,” she teased, laying on the analogy just a little too thick. “You might surprise yourself.”  

Rio stared at her for a moment, unsure whether to laugh or roll her eyes. There was something disarming about the way Agatha said things like that—like she believed them, like she believed in her . It made Rio feel uncomfortably seen, and yet… she didn’t hate it.  

“Maybe,” Rio said at last, her voice softer than she intended.  

Agatha clinked her glass lightly against Rio’s. “To maybe, then.”  

“To maybe,” Rio echoed, taking a sip and letting the warmth of the wine settle in her chest.  

Rio’s lips quirked into a wry smile. “What about you? I bet you had your whole life planned out by the time you were five. Successful people like you don’t happen by accident.”  

Agatha laughed, a soft, genuine sound. “Not even close. But I’ve always known I wanted to build something important. Make an impact. Turns out that’s a lot harder to do, and takes a lot more out of you along the way, than I thought.”  

They shared a quiet moment, the documentary on the screen forgotten. The warmth of the wine and Agatha’s presence seemed to melt away the day’s tension, leaving Rio feeling unexpectedly at ease.  

“You know,” Rio said, leaning back and stretching out her legs, “for someone who acts like they’ve got it all together and they’re above it all, you’re pretty normal.”  

Agatha scoffed, setting her glass down. “Don’t let it fool you.”  

“Yeah, yeah,” Rio said with a smirk, “but the falling in nasty fish water story humanized you a little. I’ll probably stop being scared of you any day now.”  

Agatha arched an eyebrow. “Scared of me? Please. You’re the one who acts like I’m going to kick you out every time you sneeze too loud.”  

Rio chuckled, shaking her head. “Nah. I think I’ll stick around for the carbonara at least.”  

“Good,” Agatha said softly, her smile lingering as she got up to return to the kitchen. “I was hoping you would.”

Dinner was quiet, not to mention delicious. Agatha outsourced many of the more mundane tasks of life, but it was clear that she took pride in what she cared to handle herself. Rio cleared the dishes, ignoring Agatha’s protests as she ran some water into the sink.

“Stay there.” She called, waving a hand at Agatha as she moved to get up. It surprised her when Agatha complied, relaxing back into her chair. “It’s the least I can do, really.” She set the dishes in to soak, before glancing back up at Agatha. “Seriously. I appreciate everything you’ve done.”

Agatha moved to wave a hand and brush her off but Rio continued. “No. I insist. Dishes done and you have to listen to a sincere thank you. I’m feeling a lot better. And that’s because of you.” Her voice grew soft as she swiped a sponge over a plate. “No one has done something like this for me before.” 

She hated how vulnerable it sounded, a little too close to the truth. She focused on scrubbing a stubborn spot, and startled as she felt Agatha brush against her as she set the empty wine glasses in the sink.

Agatha’s touch was light, but it sent a spark of awareness through Rio. She glanced up, finding Agatha watching her with an unreadable expression.  

“You don’t owe me anything, you know,” Agatha said softly. Her voice lacked its usual teasing edge, replaced by something quieter, almost hesitant. Verging on earnest.

“I know,” Rio replied, her hands stilling in the water. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to say it. Thank you.”  

Agatha’s lips curved into a faint smile, but there was a flicker of something else—something vulnerable that Rio wasn’t used to seeing. “You’re welcome,” she said, her voice just as soft.  

For a moment, the air between them felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. Rio was acutely aware of how close they were, how Agatha’s hand lingered on the edge of the sink, fingers brushing against the damp counter.  

Agatha broke the silence first, stepping back and crossing her arms loosely over her chest. “Well, now that you’re on dish duty, I guess I can kick back and relax. See? I’m generous like that.”  

Rio snorted, rolling her eyes as the charged tension teased. “Oh, yeah. Very selfless of you.”  

“Exactly,” Agatha said with a grin, retreating to the living room. She settled into the couch, curling her legs under herself. “When you’re done, bring the remote. I’m vetoing the documentary. Climate change bums me out.”  

Rio chuckled, finishing the dishes with a newfound sense of ease. She wasn’t sure what to make of the way Agatha had looked at her, or the way it made her feel, but for now, she was content to let it rest.  

When she joined Agatha on the couch, remote in hand, the other woman patted the cushion beside her. Rio hesitated for just a moment before sitting down, the space between them close but not quite touching.  

Agatha flicked through the channels, muttering under her breath about the lack of quality programming until she landed on an old black-and-white movie. “Perfect,” she declared, settling back with a satisfied smile.  

“Seriously?” Rio said, smirking. “This? You vetoed my documentary for this ?”  

“Classic cinema,” Agatha corrected haughtily, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “It’s called taste, Rio. Look it up.”  

Rio shook her head but didn’t argue, her smirk softening into a smile as the movie began to play.  

The evening passed in comfortable quiet, the lines blurring in a way that felt strangely natural. And as Rio sat there, her shoulder almost brushing Agatha’s, she realized that maybe staying a little longer wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

She fell asleep halfway through, and when she woke up to the rolling credits the spot next to her was cool and Agatha was gone.

Rio made her way upstairs and poked her head into the office but Agatha wasn’t there either, but from this spot, she could hear a distant bath running. She didn’t let her thoughts linger on that image for long, instead, she made her way back to the guest room and took the last of her medication before sinking into the bed and quickly falling asleep.

When the morning came, she made sure to strip the sheets and place them into the washing machine she found tucked into a closet. It was stupidly fancy and it took her twenty minutes to get the thing going. But she knew Agatha would appreciate the consideration from her guest.

A guest. A passerby. Not serious.

Still, before she left, not wanting to receive a lecture later, she texted Agatha.

Heading out. Don’t fret I’m taking an Uber. Thanks again. Let me know about the wedding stuff.

The crisp air shook the last of the domestic fantasy from her head, and she shook her head before getting into the car, hoping to shake the surreal memory of the past few days with it.

Rio set her phone on speaker, balancing it on the kitchen counter as she unzipped one of the sleek garment bags that had just arrived. “You’re way too excited about this, Jen.”  

“Excited? Oh no, babe,” Jen said, her voice crackling over the line with giddy energy. “This is me delighted . I mean, come on. A surprise delivery with an entire new wardrobe for a beach wedding? Do you know what that means?”  

“It means Agatha’s incapable of doing a normal favor,” Rio deadpanned, pulling out a dress. The fabric was light and airy, a beautiful coral color. She turned it over in her hands, her stomach doing an annoying little flip.  

“It means,” Jen continued with mock patience, “you’re probably getting flown private to some tropical island while the rest of us are freezing our asses off.”  

Rio groaned. “Jen, it’s probably just... I don’t know, someplace warm but normal. Florida. California. I’m not getting flown private, for god’s sake.”  

“Oh, you’re not . But she is. And you just happen to be tagging along.”  

Rio rolled her eyes and hung the dress on a cabinet handle. “Why do I talk to you?”  

“Because I’m your best friend and I’m living vicariously through you,” Jen said smugly. “So tell me—what else is in the magical wardrobe bag? And more importantly, is there a note? Did she sign it with some steamy declaration?”  

Rio reached into one of the other bags, pulling out a pair of leather sandals and a pristine white linen suit. Her eyebrows shot up as she held up the suit, appraising the craftsmanship. “A suit,” she said flatly.  

“A suit ?” Jen squealed. “Oh my god, Rio. Are you even prepared for how good you’re gonna look in that?”  

“It’s a wedding, not a runway,” Rio muttered, though her lips twitched at the corners.  

She pulled a few other casual outfits out. There were no tags but even the material of the T-Shirts felt expensive. There were a few swimsuits as well Rio noticed, her lips quirking as she noticed one was classy but modest, and the other decidedly not so. She turned slightly to keep Jen from seeing those.

“And the note?” Jen pressed eagerly.  

Rio sifted through the bags until she found a small envelope tucked into a pocket. She hesitated before opening it, her pulse quickening.  

“Read it out loud!” Jen demanded.  

“No,” Rio shot back, pulling the note free. The handwriting was elegant, just like everything else Agatha touched.

I didn’t want to assume you had clothes for this sort of thing, so I took the liberty of arranging a few options. Don’t argue—just pack the bags and show up. It’ll be fun. -A

Rio read the note silently, shaking her head at the casual nature of it all.  

“Well?” Jen prodded. “What does it say? Did she invite you to jet off into the sunset in Mykonos or what?”  

“It says...” Rio hesitated, suddenly aware of the warmth creeping into her cheeks. “It says I’m just supposed to pack and show up.”  

Jen snorted. “Classic. So, are you gonna?”  

Rio ran a hand through her hair, glancing at the suit again. “I guess I don’t really have a choice.”  

“That’s the spirit,” Jen said. “And when you’re sipping cocktails on a private island with Miss Moneybags, just remember who supported you through your humble beginnings.”  

“Yeah, yeah,” Rio muttered, but she couldn’t quite suppress the smile tugging at her lips as she imagined what was ahead.  

Agatha it turned out did not fly private, but she did fly first class. “It’s the only way to travel, darling.” She’d said as she settled into the comfortable first row.

The hum of the plane was oddly soothing, but Rio still couldn’t quite wrap her head around the situation. She leaned back against the plush first-class seat, her legs stretched out as easily as if she were on the sofa at home. The soft leather practically cradled her, and a champagne flute sat untouched on the tray in front of her.  

How had she ended up here?  

She glanced to her right, where Agatha sat calmly flipping through a newspaper, her expression one of serene disinterest. Her sleek blazer looked untouched by the chaos of the airport, and the way she crossed her legs radiated an easy elegance, like this was just how she spent every Thursday afternoon.  

Rio snorted softly to herself, the image of Agatha so composed now clashing with her memory of the baggage counter.  

The poor airline employee had barely finished their explanation about weight restrictions before Agatha had cut in, her voice sharp enough to slice through steel. “I’m sorry, fifty pounds ? What am I supposed to do, pack for the weekend with a single pair of shoes?”  

“Ma’am, that’s the policy,” the attendant had replied, their patience visibly fraying.  

“Well, your policy is absurd,” Agatha had declared, her hand planted firmly on her hip. “Do you have any idea how much a proper wedding outfit weighs? Let alone shoes, accessories—”  

“Agatha,” Rio had interrupted, her cheeks burning as a few people turned to stare. “Just pay the fee. It’s not that big of a deal.”  

Agatha had spun on her heel to face her, her expression scandalized. “It’s the principle, Rio.”  

The principle apparently involved a full five-minute debate, which ended only when Agatha sighed dramatically, swiped her credit card, and muttered something about “extortionate nonsense” under her breath.  

Now, as Agatha turned a page in her newspaper, oblivious to Rio’s bemusement, Rio shook her head. “You know,” she said lightly, “for someone who acts so above it all, you made quite the scene back there.”  

Agatha didn’t even look up. “I wasn’t making a scene. I was advocating for reasonable luggage policies.”  

Rio laughed. “Sure you were. I bet they’ll change the rules just for you.”  

“They should.” Agatha finally glanced over, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “But I doubt they will. Small minds rarely grasp the bigger picture.”  

Rio rolled her eyes, leaning her head back against the seat. “You’re impossible, you know that?”  

“Mm.” Agatha turned back to her paper, her smirk growing.  

Rio sighed, looking out the window at the clouds below them. First-class to Antigua. She still wasn’t sure how she’d gotten here, but she had to admit—it wasn’t half bad.  

The clouds stretched endlessly below them, fluffy and white against the vibrant blue sky. Rio gazed out the window, still trying to process everything. The absurd luxury of the flight, the surreal destination awaiting them, Agatha—it all felt like a dream she’d somehow stumbled into.  

Her thoughts were interrupted by the faintest shift of movement, a flicker of something in the reflection on the window. She glanced over and caught Agatha watching her, her gaze soft and thoughtful.  

“What?” Rio asked, turning fully to face her.  

Agatha blinked, caught in the act, and quickly looked back at her newspaper. She shook her head, a faint pink tinge brushing her cheeks. “Nothing. Just… making sure you weren’t about to get airsick or something.”  

Rio raised an eyebrow, a skeptical smirk tugging at her lips. “Airsick? Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”  

Agatha’s lips twitched, and she flipped a page, pretending to be engrossed in an article. “It’s a perfectly reasonable concern. I haven’t been impressed by what I’ve seen of your constitution. You strike me as not having a strong stomach.”  

Rio laughed softly, leaning her head against the back of the seat. “Right. Because nothing says ‘constitution check’ like staring at someone for ten seconds through a window reflection.”  

Agatha didn’t reply, but Rio swore she saw her smirk deepen just a little.  

Rio tilted her head, studying her companion for a moment. Agatha’s polished exterior didn’t falter—legs crossed, outfit impeccable, the picture of calm sophistication—but there was something about the faint blush on her cheekbones that made Rio grin.  

“You’re funny, you know that?”  

Agatha finally glanced up, her expression neutral except for the slight arch of one elegant brow. “And yet, here you are, on a plane to Antigua with me.”  

Rio chuckled, shaking her head. “Fair enough.”  

She turned back to the window, but her smile lingered as she watched the clouds drift by.

Chapter Text

The moment they stepped out of the airport into the island heat, Rio felt the humidity wrap around her like a damp blanket. She tugged at the collar of her shirt, already feeling sticky, but any complaint she might have voiced was forgotten when Agatha shed her blazer as she stepped into the waiting car.

Beneath it, she wore a sleeveless blouse in soft ivory silk that clung to her in a way that made Rio’s throat go dry. She had to force herself to look away, focusing instead on the vibrant tropical scenery whipping by outside the car window.  

When they arrived at the resort, Rio could only marvel at the sheer opulence of the place. The white sands stretched out like something from a postcard, and the turquoise water sparkled under the midday sun. It was beautiful, sure—but it was also intensely romantic, and that fact pressed uncomfortably against her awareness.  

The bungalow they were led to was the perfect paradise: open and airy, with floor-to-ceiling windows that offered an uninterrupted view of the ocean. The décor was understated but elegant, every wicker and linen detail carefully curated. But all of Rio’s attention narrowed to one glaring feature as the staff finished explaining the amenities一the cocktail hour, golf cart service, and meal times一and left them alone.  

One bed.  

Rio stared at the large, plush mattress draped in crisp white linens, her mind racing. She tried to ignore the little voice in her head that whispered how perfect it all seemed.  

“Cute place,” Agatha commented breezily, her tone casual as she walked past Rio to her overstuffed suitcase. “I’m going to shower and get changed.”  

Rio barely managed a nod as Agatha disappeared into the bathroom. She tried not to think about it—tried to focus on unpacking her bag or stepping out onto the deck to admire the view—but the moment Agatha emerged, all coherent thought fled.  

Agatha was a vision. Her dark swimsuit hugged her body in all the right places, the plunging neckline drawing Rio’s unwilling gaze. A sheer black coverup fluttered softly around her legs, and her oversized sunglasses gave her an air of effortless glamour.  

She looked every bit like a goddess lounging in paradise. And she knew it.  

Agatha paused in the doorway, one hand on her hip, tilting her head just slightly in Rio’s direction. Even with the sunglasses obscuring her eyes, Rio could feel the smirk radiating from her.  

Rio struggled to pull her jaw off the floor. “Uh, where should I put my stuff there’s… there’s only one bed.”  

Agatha’s lips curved further, and she stepped closer, her tone dripping with amusement. “Is that a problem?” She adjusted the sunglasses with a delicate hand, feigning an expression of concern. “If it makes you more comfortable, you’re welcome to sleep in the hammock outside.”  

Rio blinked, heat rising to her cheeks as she scrambled to find a response, but Agatha was already breezing past her, her bare feet tapping lightly against the wooden floor.  

“Figure it out, hope you packed bug spray,” Agatha called over her shoulder as she stepped outside. “I’m off to feel the sand.”  

Rio groaned, running a hand through her hair before grabbing her sunglasses and changing into a tank top and shorts. She wasn’t sure how she was going to survive this weekend.

Update. She wasn’t going to survive the weekend. At this rate, she wasn’t sure she’d make it to the reception dinner.

The beach was everything Agatha had promised—soft white sand, a lazy breeze carrying the scent of salt and coconut, and water so clear Rio could see straight to the bottom. It should’ve been relaxing, the perfect escape.  

But relaxation was impossible when Agatha, apparently in full vacation mode, had decided to make Rio her personal source of entertainment. Most folks took a vacation to relax, Agatha seemed to take as an opportunity to become even more of a terror.

“Please don’t tell me you’re one of those people who burns after five minutes,” Agatha teased, stretching out on a lounge chair under a large umbrella. Her sunglasses reflected the sunlight in sharp glints as she tilted her head to look at Rio. “Though I suppose a little pink might suit you.”  

Rio scoffed, trying to focus anywhere else. “I’m fine, thanks. Don’t worry about me.”  

“Too bad.” Agatha leaned back, her coverup slipping just enough to reveal the smooth toned curve of her shoulder. “I was going to offer to help. Sunscreen’s a two-person job, you know.”  

Rio swallowed hard, willing herself not to look. It wasn’t helping that Agatha’s voice was like silk, her words threaded with just enough mischief to keep Rio on edge.  

“I think I’ll manage,” Rio muttered.

Agatha hummed thoughtfully, clearly not convinced. After a moment, she stretched languidly, arching her back like a cat as she reached for a bottle of sunscreen. “Well, I do need a hand.” She turned her head, the sunglasses hiding her eyes but not the slight upward curve of her lips. “Would you mind?”  

Rio blinked, her brain short-circuiting as she stared at Agatha, who was now holding out the bottle with a perfectly innocent expression. “Uh… sure.”  

Agatha shifted forward, her back to Rio as she pulled her coverup off entirely and draped it over the chair. The dark lines of her swimsuit clung to her, leaving Rio struggling to keep her hands from shaking as she unscrewed the bottle.  

As Rio’s fingers brushed over Agatha’s back, smooth and sun-warmed, she tried to distract herself with small talk. “So, when’s the wedding supposed to happen?”  

Agatha’s shoulders tensed slightly, and for the first time all day, she seemed to falter. “Saturday,” she said after a pause, her voice quieter than usual.  

Rio frowned, though she didn’t stop smoothing sunscreen over Agatha’s back. “Wait, Saturday? I thought we just got here in time.”  

Agatha turned her head slightly, her profile giving away a faint blush as she replied, “We did. I, uh… might have arranged for us to arrive a little early.”  

Rio froze for a beat, her hand still resting lightly on Agatha’s shoulder. She groaned internally, her brain screaming two days in advance is not a little early.

Agatha, apparently sensing Rio’s disbelief, added lightly, “I thought it’d be nice to… ease into things.”  

Ease into things? Rio wanted to laugh, cry, or maybe just crawl under the sand and disappear. She cleared her throat, willing her voice to sound casual. “Right. Of course.”  

Agatha glanced back at her, the corner of her mouth twitching as if she knew exactly what kind of havoc she was wreaking on Rio. She reached for her sunglasses and pushed them down just enough to meet Rio’s eyes with a gaze that sparkled with amusement.

“Thanks for this,” Agatha said softly, her voice dipping just enough to send a shiver down Rio’s spine. “You’re such a sweetheart.”  

Sweetheart. Rio almost dropped the sunscreen right there. She gritted her teeth, finishing the job with a briskness that bordered on unkind. Agatha only laughed, standing up and stretching her arms toward the sun.  

Rio quickly busied herself with screwing the lid back on the bottle and wiping her hands off on a towel.

“Well, I’m off to cool down in the water,” Agatha announced, strolling toward the waves with a confident sway that Rio couldn’t help but notice. She called over her shoulder, “Try not to miss me too much.”  

Rio dropped back onto her chair, burying her face in her hands. She was not going to survive this.

The heat was quickly unbearable. Not from the sun, but from the way Agatha looked, floating effortlessly in the crystal-clear water just a few feet away, droplets clinging to her skin like tiny jewels. Rio tried to resist, but she was only human, and every cell in her body betrayed her, propelling her off the lounge chair and toward the water.  

When she reached the shore, the waves lapped at her feet. She waded out slowly, the sand shifting beneath her, until she was about knee-deep. Agatha noticed her approach and smirked, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head.  

“Well, well. Look who decided to join me,” Agatha teased, tilting her head in amusement.  

Rio stopped a few feet away, trying to maintain her composure. “Yeah, so... uh, now’s probably a bad time to mention this, but…” She hesitated, rubbing the back of her neck. “I don’t actually know how to swim.”  

Agatha froze mid-paddle, blinking at her. “Are you serious?”  

Rio shrugged, trying to play it off. “Yeah. Didn’t really come up, you know?”  

Agatha’s lips twitched as she fought back a grin. “Rio, we’re on a beach in Antigua, and now you tell me this?”  

“Well, I wasn’t planning on getting wet,” Rio countered, gesturing at the water. “But you seemed so insistent, so here I am.”  

Agatha stepped closer, arms crossed, her tone suddenly dripping with mischief. “Oh no, you’re not getting out of this that easily. It’s never too late to learn.”  

Rio raised an eyebrow, backing up a step. “I don’t know. I feel like this is definitely one of those ‘too late’ situations.”  

Agatha smirked and held out a hand, her voice warm but challenging. “Come on, you’re not afraid of a little water, are you?”  

Rio hesitated, staring at her outstretched hand. “It’s not the water I’m afraid of,” she muttered under her breath.  

“What was that?” Agatha teased, tilting her head.  

“Nothing.” With a deep breath, Rio stepped forward and took Agatha’s hand, letting her pull her into the waist-deep water. The cool water lapped at her navel, her tank clinging to her, and Rio flinched at the sensation, causing Agatha to chuckle softly.  

“Relax,” Agatha coaxed, tugging her gently forward. “The water’s notoriously calm here. You’ll barely even notice when it gets higher.”  

“Higher?” Rio echoed, eyes darting to the distant waves.  

Agatha squeezed her hand, her tone teasing. “Trust me. You’re not going to drown with me here. Worst case, I’ll save you.”  

“Oh, that’s comforting,” Rio quipped.  

They edged deeper, Agatha kept her gaze steady on Rio, watching her unease slowly give way to something closer to amusement.  

“There, see?” Agatha said, her voice light. “You’re practically a natural.”  

Rio rolled her eyes. “Yeah, Olympic swimmer material, right here. Missed my calling.”  

Agatha laughed genuinely, a sharp bark that made Rio smile despite herself. She felt herself starting to relax—until a rogue wave suddenly surged in, crashing over both of them without warning.  

The water hit Rio like a freight train, pulling her under as if the ocean itself had decided she didn’t belong here. She tumbled helplessly, her world reduced to a blur of blue and white. Panic clawed at her chest as she flailed, saltwater filling her nose and mouth. She flailed desperately, trying to figure out which way was up but was disoriented by the churning foam. 

And then, strong hands gripped her.  

The pressure eased as she was pulled upward, breaking through the surface with a desperate gasp. Her lungs burned as she coughed and spluttered, clinging instinctively to the warm, solid presence holding her. She wrapped her arms around strong shoulders, and her legs around their waist

“Rio,” Agatha’s voice was firm and steady, cutting through the chaos. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. Just breathe.”  

Rio’s chest heaved as she tried to calm herself, her fingers gripping Agatha’s shoulders like a lifeline. She blinked, water streaming down her face, and focused on Agatha’s eyes—sharp, steady, and so close she could see the flecks of grey in their blue depths.  

“I—” Rio coughed again, her voice shaky. “Fuck—I hated that. You said it was calm!”  

“Please. I wouldn’t let you drown.” Agatha assured her, her tone leaving no room for doubt. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Rio, keeping her upright against the gentle pull of the waves.  

Rio’s heart was still pounding, but she found herself nodding, grounding herself in the warmth of Agatha’s hold and the calm authority of her voice. “Thanks,” she managed weakly, her grip loosening slightly as her panic ebbed.  

Agatha softened, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Anytime,” she said lightly. “Wouldn’t want you to drown in knee-deep water,” she teased, smirking at Rio’s flustered state, “you know you could’ve just stood up and you would’ve been fine.”

Rio’s cheeks burned, and not from the sun. “Right. I uh, next time I’ll try to remember that in the panic of almost drowning.”  

“Don’t be so dramatic” Agatha teased, though her voice was warm. She brushed a stray strand of wet hair out of Rio’s face, her gentle touch sending a shiver down Rio’s spine and goosebumps peppered her arms.  

Rio swallowed hard, trying to summon some semblance of a cool response, but all she could manage was a nod.  

The proximity was too close. She’d never felt this much of Agatha at once. Well, a few times in a couple of dreams, much too vivid dreams, but this was different. This was real. This was dangerous. And all the same, she couldn’t force herself to move away.

Agatha on the other hand seemed perfectly content to keep holding her, as if she’d stay there all day if Rio didn’t make the first move. Her arms were steady and sure, her gaze calm yet searching, like she was waiting for Rio to say or do something.  

But Rio couldn’t. Her brain was short-circuiting. She couldn’t escape the fact that her legs were still wrapped around Agatha’s waist, and her entire body was pressed against her. The realization sent a hot, prickling wave of embarrassment through her.  

Finally, she shifted, untangling her legs with a forced cough. Agatha let her go, but kept a steady hand on her arm.

“Maybe we try the pool. ” Agatha suggested, her tone casual, though there was a flicker of something softer there. “If that’d make you more comfortable. We have a whole weekend. I don’t know that I can teach you how to swim but I think we could manage a ‘how not to drown’ lesson.”  

Rio wished she could explain that it wasn’t the water making her uncomfortable. “Nah,” she said quickly, forcing a grin. “I think a couple of beers in the sun’s more my speed right now.”  

Agatha tilted her head, a faint smile playing at her lips. “Fair enough.” She released Rio but took her hand as they waded back to the shore together.  

The weight of Agatha’s hand in hers, the casual intimacy of it, sent Rio’s thoughts spiraling again. It was too much—Agatha’s presence, her touch, the way she seemed completely at ease in moments that left Rio unraveling.  

When they reached the loungers, Agatha let go of her hand to grab a towel. She patted her damp hair and slipped her cover-up back on with practiced grace. “I’ll grab us some drinks,” she said, her voice breezy. “Be right back.”  

Rio nodded, collapsing onto her lounger and letting out a long breath once Agatha was out of sight. She grabbed her phone, typing furiously.  

I’m not gonna make it, Jen. This is how I die.

Jen responded immediately:

Dramatic much? Did she kill you with a bikini or something?  

She might as well have. Sexy black swimsuit. Wave knocked me over. She saved me while I flailed and almost drowned in knee deep water like an idiot. There was… holding. I’m losing it.  

HOLDING? Tell me EVERYTHING. Also sneak a pic, bet she’s extra foxy.

I’m NOT doing that. ALSO there’s only one bed here, what am I supposed to do??

Sleep dumbass. And pray you dont sleep talk and whimper her name or something when you do.

I hate you.

Love you too, Rio.

Rio groaned, dropping her phone onto her chest. There was no way to explain it, no way to put into words how Agatha had looked at her, or the way she’d felt in her steady arms.  

A shadow passed over her, and Rio opened her eyes to see Agatha standing there with a frosty beer in one hand and a cocktail in another. “Here,” she said, passing the beer to Rio with a grin. “Your liquid courage.”  

Rio sat up and took the bottle, grateful for something to focus on besides the way Agatha’s legs looked in that cover-up. “Thanks,” she muttered, taking a large sip.  

Agatha sat beside her, her own drink in hand, and tilted her head toward the ocean. “See? Not so bad once you’re back on land.”  

Rio snorted, finally letting herself laugh. “Not so bad,” she agreed.

Agatha seemed content to let the silence stretch as she enjoyed her cocktail on the lounger. Rio didn’t speak, not trusting what would come out of her mouth with how tightly she was wound.

The day passed easily with no more ventures into the currents that had threatened to drag her under. The service here was borderline excessive with attendants stopping by to frequently offer refills on their drinks and small bites. Rio was a little uncomfortable with all the attention, unlike Agatha she wasn’t used to being waited on. But by the time she’d finished her third beer, she could feel her worries begin to float away.

As their lazy afternoon drug on, the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in shades of gold and deepening blue. The heat of the day softened into a warm breeze that rustled the palm trees lining the beach.

Eventually, she found herself walking along the shore next to Agatha, the sand cool beneath her bare feet. 

Agatha carried her sandals and drink in one hand, the other brushing occasionally against Rio’s arm as they walked. She looked entirely at ease, her sheer coverup fluttering slightly in the breeze. Rio, meanwhile, was acutely aware of every little movement, every step that brought them closer together. 

“This place is something else,” Rio muttered, watching as the waves rolled in, lapping gently at their ankles. “Feels like a postcard come to life.”  

“It is, isn’t it?” Agatha said, her voice warm. She tilted her head to glance at Rio, the oversized sunglasses gone now, leaving her eyes unguarded. Her cheeks were tinged a little rosy by the sun. “I always think it’s a little unfair that places like this exist. Like the universe is showing off.”  

Rio chuckled softly. “You don’t seem the type to be impressed by postcard-perfect views.”  

Agatha smiled, her gaze lingering on the horizon. “I’m not. But sometimes…” She paused, her voice softening. “Sometimes, it’s nice to pretend you’re someone who is.”  

The weight of her words settled between them, quiet and profound. Rio glanced over, watching as Agatha’s expression flickered, uncharacteristically unguarded and gentle for just a moment. She looked peaceful.

“Is that what this is? Pretend?” Rio asked carefully.  

Agatha’s lips quirked into a wry smile, her mask slipping back into place. “Something like that,” she replied, though her tone made it clear she wasn’t going to elaborate.  

They walked in silence for a while, the only sounds the rhythm of the waves and the distant chirp of birds settling in for the evening. Agatha eventually veered closer to the water’s edge, letting the waves lap higher against her legs. She turned suddenly, walking backward to face Rio.  

“You know,” she said, her eyes glinting with mischief, “you could’ve stayed back at the bungalow and enjoyed the hammock life. No need to humor me. I know you had a deeply traumatizing first ocean encounter.”  

“And miss this?” Rio gestured vaguely at the beach. “Please. You’d never let me hear the end of it.”  

“Smart girl.” Agatha grinned, pausing long enough for Rio to catch up. When they were side by side again, her voice dropped to something quieter, more teasing. “Besides, you seem to be enjoying yourself.”  

Rio raised an eyebrow. “Do I?”  

“Oh, yes.” Agatha’s smirk deepened. “You’ve got this whole broody, contemplative thing going. Very charming.”  

“Charming?” Rio repeated, her cheeks warming. “That’s one way to put it.”  

Agatha laughed, a low, melodic sound that sent a shiver down Rio’s spine. “Don’t worry, I like broody types. Keeps things interesting.”  

Rio huffed a laugh, trying to play it cool. “Glad I can provide some entertainment.”  

They reached a large piece of driftwood half-buried in the sand, and Agatha stopped, brushing sand from the surface before perching on it. She motioned to the spot beside her, her expression expectant.  

Rio hesitated for half a second before sitting down, careful to keep just enough distance that her arm didn’t brush against Agatha’s. She glanced over, watching as Agatha stared out at the sea, her profile sharp against the soft glow of twilight.  

“You’ve got that look again,” Rio said suddenly, the words slipping out before she could stop them.  

Agatha turned her head, arching a brow. “What look?”  

“Like you’re thinking about something. Something… big.” Rio shrugged, looking away. “Just noticed, that’s all.”  

Agatha didn’t respond immediately, and for a moment, Rio wondered if she’d overstepped. But then Agatha shifted, leaning back slightly on her hands.  

“Maybe I am,” Agatha said softly, her voice almost lost in the breeze. Then she turned, her gaze locking onto Rio’s. “What about you? What’s running through that head of yours?”  

Rio swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of how close they were. “Oh, you know,” she said, forcing a lightness to her tone. “How to avoid stepping on any stray crabs out here. It’s a real danger.”  

Agatha’s laughter rang out again, bright and genuine. She shook her head, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Always deflecting,” she teased. “One of these days, Rio, I’m going to get a real answer out of you.”  

“Good luck with that, you’re even less of an open book.” Rio muttered though she couldn’t hide her smile.  

Agatha didn’t press further, but the way her gaze lingered on Rio made her stomach flip. They sat there as the sun disappeared below the horizon, neither one daring to break the silence.

The night enveloped the beach in darkness, the moonlight and stars reflecting faintly on the water. The only sounds were the gentle crash of the waves and the occasional rustle of the palms in the breeze. 

Rio leaned back against the driftwood, the bottle of her fourth, maybe it was her fifth, beer dangling loosely from her fingers. The courage bubbling up inside her felt unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

“Can I ask you something?” Rio asked, her voice low but cutting through the quiet.  

Agatha, didn’t immediately reply. Her gaze was fixed on the ocean, but she didn’t shake her head or brush Rio off either.  

Taking the lack of rejection as permission, Rio continued. “Have you ever thought about getting remarried? Or dating again?”  

Agatha’s stillness was its own kind of response. She swirled the amber liquid in her glass, letting the silence stretch uncomfortably before finally answering. “Not really.” Her tone was clipped, final.  

Rio hesitated but pressed on. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Since… you and Ashley split?”  

“It has.”  

Rio shifted awkwardly, trying to keep her voice casual. “Guess she must’ve done a number on you.”  

That made Agatha pause. For a long moment, she said nothing, but then her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she tilted her head to glance at Rio. “Yeah,” she said softly. “She did.”  

Something in Agatha’s voice compelled Rio to tread carefully, even as curiosity tugged at her. “If you don’t want to talk about it—”  

“No,” Agatha interrupted, surprising them both. “It’s fine. It’s… overdue, maybe.”  

Rio straightened, unsure of what to say. She watched as Agatha took another sip of her drink, her eyes far away, as though weighing how much to reveal.  

“She had an affair,” Agatha began, her voice calm, matter-of-fact. “One of her campaign staffers. I found out about it maybe… six months before we split.” She let out a soft, humorless laugh. “I probably could’ve worked through that. If it had just been… a dalliance. Would’ve hurt like hell, but… maybe.”  

Rio frowned. “But there was more?”  

“Oh yeah. Of course, there was more.” Agatha’s tone hardened slightly, and she stared into her glass like it held the memory. “I found out she’d been using campaign funds to pay the other woman to stay quiet. I confronted her about it, and she begged me not to go public. Said her career was just starting, and it’d ruin everything if the truth came out.”  

Rio’s eyebrows shot up. “And you let her? You let her pin it on you?”  

Agatha smiled bitterly. “I didn’t exactly let her. But when the story broke, and it became clear where the narrative was heading…” She trailed off, shrugging. “I didn’t fight it.”  

“But why?” Rio’s voice was incredulous. “She cheated on you, stole money, lied to everyone—and you took the fall? Why would you do that for her?” She could hear the pitch of her voice raise as her cheeks flushed. 

Agatha turned to look at Rio then, her expression unreadable. “Because I loved her,” she said simply. “And I thought that was what you did for the people you loved. You protected them, even when they didn’t deserve it.”  

Rio stared at her, floored by the admission. “Agatha…”  

“It wasn’t just for her,” Agatha added, her voice softer now. “There were other people’s careers at stake. Staffers who didn’t deserve to lose their jobs. Constituents who didn’t deserve to lose faith in their representative. Ashley was… good at what she did. She was passionate, and she cared about people. The guy she was running against was truly awful, and she had an opportunity to make a real change. I didn’t want my anger and hurt to take all that away from everyone else.”  

Rio couldn’t stop herself from scoffing. “So you made yourself the villain instead?”  

Agatha’s lips twitched, though it wasn’t a smile. “It’s easy enough to transfer blame to any available woman, isn’t it? An already rich professional fixer, no less. They knew a lot less about me than they did her. I made a convenient scapegoat. The optics were perfect. I truly couldn’t have planned it better myself.”  

“That’s… fucked up,” Rio muttered, her fingers tightening around her beer bottle.  

“Maybe.” Agatha’s gaze returned to the horizon. “But it’s done. And Ashley got what she wanted. She’s still thriving, as you know.”  

Rio hesitated, then asked quietly, “And you? Did you get what you wanted?”  

Agatha didn’t answer right away. When she finally turned back to Rio, her eyes were unreadable, but there was a thrum of vulnerability in her voice. “Not yet.”  

Rio’s breath caught. She wanted to say something, to ask what Agatha meant, but the weight of the moment stilled her.

She was caught between so many feelings. She wanted to kiss her. She wanted to kiss away the wounded expression that lurked on her face. But that was crazy. She should just put her hand on her shoulder. A gentle comfort. That was safer.

She ended up somewhere between the two choices, before she could stop herself she’d reached out and gently cupped Agatha’s cheek, turning her head to face her.

“I’m really sorry you went through that,” she whispered.

Agatha’s eyes shut, and for a moment she felt her lean into her hand. But just as quickly, Agatha was pulling away and standing up, brushing off the sand that clung to her.

“Well. It was a long time ago. We’ve both moved on.” She said, pulling her coverup closer around herself as she crossed her arms. It wasn’t exactly defensive, but Rio accepted it as her cue to move on. She stood up and followed Agatha back towards the bungalow.

When they returned, she realized that what was originally just a couch had been converted into a sleeper sofa. Fresh linens and pillows had been added. She realized that they weren’t to share a bed after all. The gesture was exactly the annoyingly noble proper etiquette she should have expected. And yet she found herself caught between being thankful and mentally cursing Agatha for the consideration.

She raised her eyebrows at the pull-out sofa as she chuckled at Agatha’s antics. “You really had me thinking I was sleeping in a hammock.”

Agatha rolled her eyes as she riffled through her suitcase, but she was smiling as well. “Whoops. Must have slipped my mind to mention it. Unfortunately for you, I like seeing you sweat.” 

Rio watched her for a moment, the soft lamplight catching the sharp planes of her face and the way her hair fell loosely over her shoulders the ends stiffened by the dried salt water. She wanted to keep the mood light, keep teasing her, but the weight of their earlier conversation lingered like a shadow.  

“Agatha,” she said suddenly, her voice softer than before.  

Agatha glanced at her, pausing mid-motion as she folded her cover-up.  

“I meant what I said earlier,” Rio continued. “I really am sorry you went through all that. You didn’t deserve it.”  

Agatha’s hands stilled, and for a moment, Rio thought she might brush it off or make a joke. But then Agatha nodded, her expression unreadable. “Thanks,” she said quietly, and though the word was simple, it carried a sincerity that Rio hadn’t expected.  

Agatha moved to the bathroom, leaving Rio alone in the bungalow’s small but cozy living space. As the door clicked shut, Rio let out a small breath.

She leaned back against the makeshift bed, staring up at the ceiling fan as it spun lazily overhead. The woman was an enigma—guarded and complicated, but with these moments of vulnerability, that seemed to be happening more and more frequently, Rio felt like she’d glimpsed something precious.  

And it was no longer starting to drive her a little crazy, Rio was well into the deep end.  

When Agatha emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, dressed in soft cotton pajamas and her hair tied back, Rio straightened up. “Lights out?”  

Agatha nodded, flipping the switch on the wall lamp. “Big day tomorrow. Rehearsal dinner is at six.”  

Rio flopped back onto the pull-out, tugging the covers over herself as Agatha settled onto the bed. Long after Agatha’s breathing had evened out, Rio lay awake, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling.

She’d finally found a single flaw with this posh resort. Every time she shifted in the makeshift bed the springs made an obnoxiously loud creak that seemed to echo and fill the airy space. She flipped over again trying to find a comfortable spot but there wasn’t one to be found. Almost ready to admit defeat, she flipped again to her side, eyeing the outdoor hammock. Maybe it would be easier to sleep out there? 

Rio sighed, staring out the open doors toward the hammock swaying gently in the breeze. She imagined it wouldn’t be much better—awkward, tight, and likely mosquito-ridden—but at least it wouldn’t scream bloody murder every time she moved. She resolved to give it one more shot, settling herself as carefully as possible into the center of the bed.  

Creak .  

She winced and froze, holding her breath as if stillness could erase the sound.  

“Rio,” Agatha’s voice cut through the quiet, low and rough with sleep.  

Rio bit her lip. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to—”  

“Just get in here,” Agatha interrupted her tone halfway between a grumble and an order.  

Rio blinked, sure she’d misheard her. “What?”  

“You heard me,” Agatha mumbled, shifting in the bed to sit up. Her silhouette was faintly outlined in the dim light of the moon filtering through the windows. “You’re not going to sleep on that thing, and more importantly I’m not going to sleep if you keep making a racket all night.”  

“Wait, you mean—”  

“Yes,” Agatha said, exasperated, already laying back down, pulling the light blanket up to her shoulders. “Get in the bed, Rio. For god’s sake.”  

Rio flushed, sitting up slowly as if testing the offer. “I, uh, don’t want to invade your space or anything…”  

Agatha groaned, turning over to glare at her. “Rio. It’s a king-size bed. It has space. You’ll be fine.”  

Her face burned, but Rio swung her legs over the side of the pull-out and stood, hesitating only a second before padding toward the bed. The couch gave one last treacherous creak as she did. She paused again at the edge, staring down at Agatha, who had already turned away from her to face the other side of the room.  

“You know how I hate hovering,” Agatha muttered, her voice muffled by the pillow.  

Rio slid into the opposite side as carefully as she could manage, the mattress soft and cool against her back. She lay stiffly on her side, keeping as much distance as possible between them, her heart racing like she’d just sprinted down the beach.  

Minutes passed in silence. The night was peaceful, the soft hum of insects outside blending with the faint crash of waves in the distance. Rio’s tension began to ebb, the luxurious comfort of the bed working its magic.  

And then—  

“You’re really terrible at relaxing,” Agatha murmured, her voice teasing but laced with sleep.  

Rio couldn’t help a laugh, quiet and sheepish. “Not used to sharing a bed, I guess.”  

Agatha turned her head slightly, her profile just visible in the moonlight. “Please. You’re not sharing. You’re barely touching the mattress, let alone the bed.”  

“Well, I didn’t want to overstep,” Rio muttered, embarrassed.  

Agatha huffed a soft laugh and settled back into her pillow. “It’s fine, Rio. You can stop holding your breath now.”  

Rio blinked, realizing she had been holding her breath, and let it out in a quiet exhale. She adjusted her position, sinking a little deeper into the bed, the tension in her shoulders finally easing.  

“Goodnight, Agatha,” she said softly.  

“God, here I thought this would make you quieter,” Agatha grumbled haughtily, already half-asleep. “Go to sleep.”

Rio closed her eyes, but the carefully guarded miles of space she was clinging to the edge of the bed to create between them felt warmer than it should have. 

Chapter Text

The line between dreams and waking had never been thinner. The sheets were cool around her legs, she could feel a sunbeam warming her face, she could hear the gentle steady exhale of Agatha’s breath. Rio blinked twice and realized in the night she had rolled into the center of the bed. It was a bad habit that previous partners had complained about, no matter how big or small the bed, Rio always took up the most space.

But it clearly hadn’t bothered Agatha. She slept curled on her side, blankets grasped tightly around herself like a cocoon. Her hair was wild on the pillow next to her, blocking her face completely from view. If this was a dream, Rio would reach out and touch the messy waves. Let herself be pulled in, bury her nose into her hair, and against the back of her neck. 

Forgetting that this wasn’t a dream, she gently reached out, brushing her fingertip over the edge of a curl. She froze as Agatha mumbled in her sleep.

Agatha shifted slightly, her head tilting just enough for Rio to catch the soft curve of her cheek. Rio’s breath hitched. She stayed frozen, half expecting Agatha to stir fully awake and catch her in the act. But instead, Agatha mumbled something unintelligible and burrowed deeper into the blankets.  

Rio let out a shaky exhale, her fingertip still tingling from the faintest brush of Agatha’s hair. She should roll over, give her space. Pretend none of this had happened.  

But the sight of her—so close, so utterly at peace—kept her rooted in place.  

She let her gaze drift down, tracing the curve of Agatha’s ear where it peeked out from the unruly curls. Her mind betrayed her, flashing with the thought of leaning in and pressing her lips there, just barely brushing the warm skin. Would Agatha stir? Would she smile, still half-dreaming, and let Rio stay close?  

Or would she wake with a start, put distance between them, and shatter this fragile, delicate thing they’d built together?  

Rio swallowed hard, her pulse quickening at the thought. She couldn’t risk it. She couldn’t risk Agatha.  

But the longing settled deeper into her chest as she lay there, unable to tear her eyes away. It wasn’t just the closeness, the intimacy of this moment. It was everything—the way Agatha had let her in, little by little. The way she’d shared pieces of herself, no matter how jagged or vulnerable.  

Talking about her past. Bringing her here two days early, without preamble or excuses. Holding her in the water, as though nothing in the world could interrupt them.  

Those weren’t just accidents. They couldn’t be.  

Rio let herself hope, just a little. Maybe Agatha wasn’t as untouchable as she seemed. Maybe, beneath all the guarded strength, there was something softer, something open.  

Her gaze fell to Agatha’s shoulder, where the blanket had slipped slightly. The urge to lean over and press a kiss there, light as a whisper, surged through her again.  

Instead, she let out another careful breath and withdrew her hand.  

She’d wait. As much as it pained her, she’d wait until Agatha gave her a sign, until she was absolutely sure. For now, she would savor this—this stolen morning, this fleeting closeness.  

Rio closed her eyes, forcing her breathing to match Agatha’s. If she couldn’t act, she could at least imagine. And in her mind, she did lean over. She did press her lips to the top of Agatha’s ear, letting the world melt away.  

In her mind, Agatha turned toward her, smiling sleepily, and whispered, “Took you long enough.”

When she woke up again, it was to the thump of a light booklet landing on her chest. She grumbled and brushed her hair out of her face. Agatha was already flitting about the room, gathering items into a large beach bag. She glanced over at Rio and smiled, feigning surprise, “Oh! Good, you’re awake!”

“Barely. Someone’s throwing things.” Rio grumbled, lifting a hand to shield her eyes from the now bright sun.

“Since you’re up, I thought you could order us some breakfast. I’m gonna get a shower!” Agatha called, already shutting the bathroom door.

Rio groaned and flopped back onto the pillows. She’d never considered how annoyingly chipper Agatha would be ordering her around first thing in the morning. She forced herself to look over the menu. Of course, Agatha gave her no indication of what she wanted. Of course, this was just another piece of the game.

Rio stared at the room service menu, the neat columns of options swimming in and out of focus as her still-sleepy brain tried to process them. She groaned again, rubbing her eyes.  

"Sure, Agatha," she muttered to the empty room. "I'll just psychically divine what your picky bougie ass wants for breakfast."  

She glanced toward the bathroom door, still closed, the sound of the shower running behind it. A wicked grin crept onto her face. She picked up the room phone and dialed.  

When the operator answered, Rio’s tone was syrupy sweet. “Good morning! I’d like to order room service, please.”  

Agatha emerged from the bathroom thirty minutes later, her hair wrapped in a towel and her skin flushed from the shower. A plush resort robe was tied tightly around her, but did nothing to hide the few stray droplets as they rolled down her neck. She looked at Rio lounging smugly on the bed, her arms crossed behind her head.  

“Breakfast ordered?” Agatha asked, arching an eyebrow.  

Rio grinned. “Sure is. Should be here any minute.”  

Agatha narrowed her eyes but said nothing as she finished packing the beach bag. When the knock on the door finally came, she barely glanced up. “Get that, would you?”  

“With pleasure.” Rio practically bounced off the bed and opened the door.  

A hotel staff member wheeled in a tray—stacked high with covered dishes, pitchers of juice, and a comically large fruit platter that looked more like a centerpiece for a banquet than something two people would eat.  

Agatha froze, her eyes widening as the staff member began to set up the miniature feast on the coffee table.  

“What is this ?” she asked, staring at the array of food.  

“Breakfast,” Rio said innocently, plopping down on the couch. “You didn’t tell me what you wanted, so I ordered… a little bit of everything.” 

“A little bit?” Agatha repeated, gesturing incredulously at the spread. “Rio, there’s an entire pineapple on that tray.”  

“And a mango. You are buying right?” Rio added cheerfully, spearing a piece with a fork.  

Agatha pinched the bridge of her nose, but Rio caught the hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “You’re impossible.”  

“I’m thorough,” Rio corrected, popping the fruit into her mouth. “Come on, don’t tell me you’re not curious about the mini quiches. They’re adorable.”  

Agatha sighed and sat down across from her. “You’re lucky I skipped dinner last night,” she muttered, reaching for a croissant.  

“Lucky? Or brilliant?” Rio teased, sliding the butter dish closer to Agatha with an exaggerated flourish.  

“Let’s not get carried away.”  

Despite Agatha’s feigned annoyance, she certainly had no problem digging into the spread. The tension of the morning melted away. Agatha finally leaned back, sipping a mimosa as Rio refilled their coffee cups from the silver french press.  

“Okay,” she admitted grudgingly. “This was a good call.”  

Rio smirked. “You’re welcome. Now, are you ready to hit the beach?”  

Agatha’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Only if you’re ready for me to teach you how to swim.”  

Rio groaned, already regretting the reminder. “You’re never letting that go, are you?”  

“Not a chance,” Agatha said with a grin, standing and grabbing the beach bag. “Come on, water baby. Let’s see if we can get you to float without screaming.”  

“I do not scream!”  

Agatha’s laughter followed her out the door as she called, “We’ll see!” Rio couldn’t help but smile.

She dug through her bag, examining the two swimsuits that had been packed. Energized by the thrill of winning a few points with breakfast一she was not going to examine that Agatha had gotten into her head so much that she was now playing the same games, considering breakfast an opportunity for a victory一Rio selected the more revealing option. She put it on and admired herself in the mirror for a moment, before “covering up” if it could be called that, in a light pair of shorts and a cropped tee.

No longer was she going to be a part of Agatha’s game. She was going to play it. And play to win.

Rio left behind the new pair of Ray-Bans Agatha had bought her. Instead, she grabbed the beat up and scuffed neon green plastic shades she’d bought at a convenience store years ago. Solely because she knew it would irritate Agatha. She smiled at her reflection again, tousling her hair in the back a bit, before stepping out into the sun.

The beach was livelier than it had been the day before. Small groups of friends staked out patches of sand with colorful umbrellas, couples lounged in chairs sipping cocktails, and kids shrieked as they chased waves back and forth along the shore. Rio scanned the crowd, quickly spotting Agatha already reclining in a chair near the water, her wide-brimmed hat shielding her face as she flipped through a book.  

Rio smirked to herself, striding over with a casual swagger. She paused just before reaching her chair and stretched dramatically, letting her shirt ride up just enough to expose her toned stomach.  

Agatha glanced up, and her eyes lingered for a beat longer than she probably intended before she snapped her book shut with a smirk. “Those are a bold choice,” she said, nodding at Rio’s neon shades.  

Rio grinned, leaning down to pluck Agatha’s iced drink from the sand. “I figured you’d appreciate the retro vibe,” she teased, sipping through the straw. “What are you reading? Some heavy drama?”

Agatha snatched her drink back with mock offense. “Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s a mystery.”  

Rio plopped into the chair beside her, tossing her sunglasses onto her towel. “Let me guess: rich people with dark secrets and a dead body in the pool?”  

Agatha’s lips twitched as she tried to hold back a smile. “Actually, it’s about an annoyingly nosy woman who goes missing on a beach holiday.”  

Rio laughed, tipping her head back. “Of course it is. You’ve got a type.”  

Agatha leaned back in her chair, giving Rio a sidelong glance. “And what about you? What’s your type? Of book,” she clarified.

“Hmm.” Rio pretended to think about it, tapping her chin. “Stories about bossy brunettes with expensive tastes and a secret soft side.”  

Agatha rolled her eyes but didn’t refute it. “Careful. That sounds awfully niche.”  

“Maybe.” Rio grinned, unbothered by the teasing. “But don’t let it go to your head.”  

The sun climbed higher as they settled into an easy rhythm, trading quips and soaking in the relaxed atmosphere. Rio let Agatha coax her into the water a few times, where she half-heartedly practiced floating while Agatha stood knee-deep, laughing every time Rio splashed indignantly at the waves.  

By mid-afternoon, Rio had made it her personal mission to interrupt Agatha every time she tried to get back to her book. She flicked sand, narrated sordid tales about the other beachgoers, and in one moment of divine inspiration removed her shit and shorts leaving her in just the revealing two piece. Agatha had actually spilled her drink at that. 

“You know,” Agatha said finally, snapping her book shut for the fifth time and fixing Rio with a mock glare, “if you don’t let me have some peace and quiet, I will sign you up for the young adult jet ski lessons. I think you’d fit right in.”  

Rio doubled over laughing, brushing sand off her legs. “You’d love to see me wipe out in front of a bunch of teenagers, wouldn’t you?”  

“Absolutely.” Agatha smirked. 

Rio held up her hands in surrender, still chuckling. “Alright, alright, I’ll leave you to your riveting tale. But don’t say I didn’t warn you if I come back with a life vest tan line.”  

Agatha waved her off with mock exasperation, returning to her book. Rio wandered off toward the bar, grabbing a fresh drink and finding a sunny spot where she could still keep an eye on her companion.  

As she stretched out on her towel, a sense of ease washed over her. Agatha looked relaxed, her guard down in a way Rio hadn’t seen before. It made her heart ache, but in the best way—like the edges of something she wanted to hold onto, even knowing it might slip away. Rio smiled to herself, sipping her drink and letting the sun warm her skin. This was a game, and she didn’t mind playing it forever.

Rio checked her phone impatiently as she heard Agatha curse and the clatter of something falling to the floor in the bathroom.

“Sweetheart,” she drawled, “everything alright in there?” She hoped her voice sounded playful and not genuinely annoyed. Twenty minutes ago she’d finished swiping on some mascara, put on the light coral dress, and had even fully brushed through her hair. Twenty extra minutes of waiting and Agatha still wasn’t ready despite her being the one to brusquely wake Rio up and pull her inside to “get decent” almost an hour ago.

Agatha called something unintelligible she couldn’t hear over the hiss of the can of hairspray.

“I’m just saying, I definitely could have grabbed another beer in the time its taken for you to一”

The complaint left her as Agatha stepped out. She was wearing a light summer dress, a soft white with delicate embroidered stripes in coral thread. Her hair was pulled up into a casual but elegant updo and Rio’s eyes traced the few strands that were left free framing her face.

Agatha smirked as she finished applying a faint pink lipstick. “Ready when you are.”

Rio scrambled for words, “Aren’t there rules about not wearing white to a wedding?”

“Mm. Good thing this is just a reception dinner.” Agatha studied her for a moment before turning to the door. “That blush is a good shade on you.”

Rio bit the inside of her cheek, poking her tongue against it. Agatha knew she hadn’t applied any blush.

The reception dinner was held at a breezy seaside restaurant, its patio strung with warm fairy lights that cast a soft glow over the tables. Rio followed Agatha closely, still vaguely flustered from the earlier exchange. Agatha greeted the host with ease and scanned the crowd before leading Rio to their table.

As they approached, a cheerful voice called out, "Well look what the tide drug in! Agatha! Finally!" A group of smiling faces turned toward them, and Rio suddenly felt a dozen pairs of eyes taking her in as they sat down.  

“Sorry we’re late,” Agatha said smoothly, setting her purse on the back of her chair. “My lovely date here was dragging her feet.”  

“Is that so?” one of the women teased, her gaze flicking to Rio with curiosity.  

Rio smirked, playing along. “I’m sure you all know she’s got a thing for perfection. It’s hard to keep up.”  

The table erupted in laughter, and Agatha gave Rio a playful nudge before introducing her. “Everyone, this is Rio.” She went around the table naming her old college friends: Melissa, the one who’d teased her; Lucas and Jamie, who seemed to be a couple; Priya, who had a warm smile; and a few others whose names Rio immediately forgot.

As drinks were poured and appetizers arrived, Rio started to relax, the group’s energy infectious. They were clearly close, ribbing Agatha with the ease of old friends.  

“So,” Lucas said, leaning forward with a grin, “Agatha, do you remember that time sophomore year when you decided to ‘revolutionize’ the campus theater scene?”  

Agatha groaned, already laughing. “Oh, no. Please don’t.”  

“Wait, wait, what’s this about theater?” Rio asked, genuinely intrigued.  

Melissa smirked. “Oh, you didn’t know? Our dear Agatha here was a theater major her first two years. Thought she was going to be the next great actress of our generation.”  

Rio blinked in surprise, glancing at Agatha, who shrugged with a self-deprecating smile. “It’s true. Briefly.”  

“Briefly?” Priya chimed in. “You were obsessed. She directed this experimental production of Macbeth where everyone had to perform with these awful cloaks.”  

“Literally bathrobes,” Melissa added, grinning. “Like old raggedy ones, she thrifted herself. It was... a choice.”  

“Hey, it got reviewed!” Agatha protested, though her cheeks were pink.  

“It got panned ,” Lucas countered, laughing. “The student paper called it ‘an avant-garde nightmare.’”  

Rio snorted, trying to picture it. “So, theater kid. That certainly explains a lot. What made you switch to consulting?”  

Agatha leaned back in her chair, a sly smile on her lips. “Well, I realized I liked performing, but I hated being broke. Consulting seemed like the logical next step. The path to every PR firm is paved with broken theater kid dreams.”  

Her friends groaned at the well-rehearsed line, and Agatha’s smirk deepened.  

As the teasing continued, Rio found herself watching Agatha more than participating. This version of her was looser, brighter, free of the sharp edges she usually carried. It was hard not to feel drawn in by it.  

“Tell me Rio,” Jamie said, turning the conversation to her. “How did you two meet?”  

Rio froze, caught off guard, but Agatha jumped in smoothly. “Blind date,” she said breezily, taking a sip of her wine.  

“Blind date?” Melissa repeated, raising an eyebrow. “That doesn’t sound like you.”  

“Well, it wasn’t my idea,” Agatha said with a pointed look at Rio.  

“Yeah,” Rio added, playing along. “A friend set us up. She walked in, saw me, and almost turned around and left.”  

Agatha gave her a bemused look. “Not quite. Though I did wonder if they’d sent me to the wrong table.”  

The table laughed and the conversation shifted to other topics. Other weddings, new babies, old friends that had become distant but were still discussed fondly. It was easy. Rio exhaled quietly, catching Agatha’s eye briefly. Agatha gave her a small smile, one that was almost... grateful.  

The dinner plates had been cleared, and the table was in that pleasant lull after a good meal when the conversation turned toward embarrassing college stories. Agatha was mid-sip of her wine when Melissa’s eyes lit up.  

“Hey, Rio,” Melissa began with a grin that made Agatha immediately groan. “Did Agatha ever tell you about the time she caused a full-blown scene at a house party?”  

“It was not a scene,” Agatha said quickly, setting down her glass.  

“Oh, it was absolutely a scene,” Priya chimed in, leaning forward.  

“Hang on,” Lucas interrupted, holding up a finger. “It wasn’t just any house party. It was a toga party.”  

Agatha gave an exaggerated sigh, her face already turning red. “Can we not?”  

Rio’s curiosity was piqued, her grin growing. “A toga party? Alright, now I have to hear this.”  

“Don’t encourage them,” Agatha muttered, but her friends were already diving in.  

“So,” Melissa began, ignoring Agatha’s protests, “we’re at this toga party, and Agatha’s had a little... let’s call it liquid courage. ”  

“A lot of liquid courage,” Priya corrected, laughing.  

“She’s out there,” Lucas continued, “absolutely holding court in the middle of the living room. Drunk off her ass, giving this impassioned speech about... what was it?”  

“Gender roles in Greek mythology,” Priya supplied with a smirk.  

“Right,” Lucas said, snapping his fingers. “And then she decides, mid-speech, that she’s going to reenact something. So she climbs onto the coffee table.”  

“Which immediately collapses,” Melissa added gleefully.  

Agatha buried her face in her hands. “I was making a point! ”  

“You were making chaos,” Priya said, laughing. “And if that wasn’t enough, she starts yelling that we’re all uncultured and that she’s leaving. So, naturally, we had to carry her out before she could do more damage.”  

“Did me a real favor,” Agatha cut in dryly, lowering her hands. “You also kept me from making out with that hot Australian exchange student.”  

“Oh, you mean the one who had just thrown up in the bushes?” Melissa shot back, raising an eyebrow.  

Agatha huffed. “Details.”  

“It took two of us to get her into the cab,” Priya said, laughing at the memory. “And she spent the whole ride whining about how we’d ruined her night.”  

Rio was laughing so hard her sides hurt. “I cannot picture this,” she said, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. “You, in a toga, yelling about mythology and falling off a coffee table?”  

“Believe it,” Priya said, grinning. “It was iconic.”  

Agatha gave an exaggerated wave of her hand. “Alright, you’ve had your fun. Now it’s someone else’s turn in the hot seat.” She turned to Rio with a sly smile. “How about it? What’s the dumbest thing you’ve done?”  

Rio shook her head, still laughing. “Oh, no way. I’m not following that act.”  

“Come on,” Agatha pushed, nudging her elbow. “You’ve got to have something.”  

Under the weight of Agatha’s expectant grin, Rio sighed and relented. “Fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” She leaned forward conspiratorially. “So, when I was a sophomore, my friends dared me to sneak into the campus pool at night. It was supposed to be closed, but I figured, ‘How hard can it be?’”  

“Famous last words,” Lucas said, chuckling.  

“Exactly,” Rio said, laughing. “I climb the fence, get over just fine, and I’m feeling pretty smug about it. But then I see this flashlight coming toward me. Turns out, campus security does regular sweeps. I panic and decide the best hiding spot is in the water.”  

“No!” Priya exclaimed, already laughing.  

“Oh, yeah,” Rio said, grinning. “I jump in, fully clothed, and try to hold my breath under the surface. Except I don’t think this through at all because, you know, I don’t actually swim. ”  

The table erupted in laughter.  

“What happened?” Melissa asked, wiping tears from her eyes.  

“I managed to splash my way to the edge before I drowned,” Rio admitted, her face red with laughter. “But the guard had already seen me and was just standing there, looking at me like I was the biggest idiot in the world. He didn’t even write me up. Just said, ‘Go home, kid.’”  

Agatha was laughing so hard she was gripping the edge of the table. “I can’t breathe,” she managed.  

“Yeah, yeah,” Rio said, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. “Laugh it up. But at least I didn’t destroy someone’s coffee table.”  

Agatha pointed a finger at her, still laughing. “Property damage and trespassing, we’ve got all the fun stuff covered.”  

The night carried on, and Rio couldn’t help but feel a warm glow settle over her. Watching Agatha laugh, surrounded by people who clearly adored her, Rio felt a flicker of something deeper. This was the real Agatha, messy, unapologetic, loud, and utterly captivating. And Rio was hopelessly, undeniably smitten.  

The rest of the dinner passed easily, filled with laughter and more stories that painted a picture of a younger, more carefree Agatha. By the time dessert was served, Rio couldn’t help but feel like she’d been given a rare glimpse into a side of her that wasn’t often shared.  

The laughter at the table was still winding down when Melissa, ever the instigator, leaned back in her chair and smirked. “So, Agatha,” she began with deliberate nonchalance, “I saw Ashley in the news the other day.”  

Agatha’s smile froze for half a second before she raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”  

“Yeah,” Melissa continued, swirling her wine glass. “She’s really making waves in the community. I’m honestly surprised she hasn’t switched teams to being a born again Republican just to get more votes.”  

Lucas let out a low whistle. “Ouch.”   

The table erupted into laughter, though Agatha only smiled thinly, her fingers tightening briefly on the stem of her wine glass.  

“I’m just saying,” Melissa went on, clearly enjoying herself, “I don’t know how she finds time to run a campaign between yoga retreats and saving the bees.”  

“Or stealing houses,” Priya muttered under her breath, earning a chuckle from Lucas.  

Rio glanced at Agatha, who still hadn’t said much. Wanting to ease the moment, she decided to jump in. “Well, to be fair, saving the bees is a pretty big deal. I mean, who else is going to yell at people about it online?”  

That got a genuine laugh out of Agatha, who gave Rio a grateful nudge under the table. “Don’t give them more material.”  

“Why not?” Melissa said, her grin wicked. “She deserves it, after what she pulled. And for the record?” She gestured toward Rio. “ This? Definitely an upgrade.”  

The table murmured its agreement, a few playful toasts raised in Rio’s direction.  

Agatha groaned, her face turning a faint shade of pink. “Alright, enough. We’re here for Craig’s wedding, not to rehash my marital history.”  

“Hey,” Priya teased, “we’re just saying you traded up. Don’t act like we’re wrong.”  

Rio held up her hands, trying to look humble but failing miserably at hiding her grin. “I mean, who am I to argue with your very smart friends sound logic?”  

Agatha rolled her eyes, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She turned to Rio, her voice dry. “Don’t let it go to your head.”  

“Too late,” Rio quipped, earning another round of laughter from the table.  

As the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, Agatha leaned in closer to Rio. “Thanks for that,” she murmured.  

Rio tilted her head, feigning confusion. “For what? Being your clear and obvious upgrade? Not that that was high bar.”  

Agatha laughed softly, shaking her head. “For not letting them push too far.”  

“Anytime,” Rio replied, her tone teasing but her smile genuine.  

Agatha’s hand brushed against Rio’s under the table, a fleeting touch that felt more deliberate than accidental. For a moment, Rio let herself believe it was real.  

As the table settled into a lull, Priya leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand, and fixed them both with a knowing smile. “Okay, so spill,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “How long have you two been together? Because you’re way too in sync for this to be new.”  

The question made Rio pause, but Agatha didn’t miss a beat. “Not long,” she said lightly, reaching for her wine. “We’re just...naturally in tune, I guess.”  

“Uh-huh.” Priya raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And why is this the first we’re hearing of Rio, huh? You’ve been holding out on us, Agatha. I thought we were friends.”  

“You are,” Agatha replied smoothly, though there was a flicker of discomfort behind her smile. “It’s just been...a busy year.”  

Lucas grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Busy, sure. But you couldn’t even give us a heads-up? Like, ‘Hey, by the way, I’m seeing someone awesome now. She’s super hot and funny and I’m obsessed with her’? What gives?”  

Agatha set her glass down and gave them a mock-stern look. “Okay, first of all, you’re all acting like I owe you a press release. Second of all, maybe I was waiting for the right moment.”  

“Uh-huh.” Melissa smirked. “Or maybe you were worried we’d scare her off.”  

“Maybe I am worried,” Agatha shot back, giving them a playful glare. “And on that note, I think we’re calling it a night.”  

The table groaned in protest, but Agatha was already pushing her chair back.  

“Oh, no, no, no,” Priya said, pointing a finger at her. “You don’t get to dodge forever. We’re going to get the full story out of you. If not tonight, then definitely after the wedding.”  

“Good luck with that,” Agatha said breezily, reaching for her bag.  

As they stood, Rio glanced around at the grinning faces and shook her head, smirking. “You guys are relentless.”  

“You have no idea,” Agatha muttered under her breath, just loud enough for her friends to hear.  

“Damn right we are!” Lucas called after them as they made their way out.  

As they stepped into the cool evening air, Rio glanced at Agatha, her hands tucked into the pockets of her dress. “So... that was fun.”  

Agatha sighed, rubbing her temple. “They mean well. They’re just...a little much sometimes.”  

Rio chuckled. “Yeah, I can see that. But they’re good people. They clearly care about you.”  

Agatha’s lips twitched into a faint smile. “Yeah. They do.”  

For a moment, neither of them said anything, the distant hum of the ocean filling the silence. Then Agatha glanced at Rio, her expression softer than usual. “Thanks for playing along back there.”  

Rio shrugged, her grin easy. “Hey, I’m just ‘naturally in tune’ with you, right?”  

Agatha rolled her eyes but didn’t bother hiding her smile. As they walked back to their room, Rio nudged Agatha gently. “So, theater major, huh? I’m learning all kinds of things about you tonight.”  

Agatha tilted her head, her smirk returning. “Don’t get used to it. Mystique is part of my charm.”  

Rio chuckled, “Oh, I’m plenty charmed already. Should’ve guessed it. You have such a flair for the dramatic.”  

Agatha didn’t respond, but the faint smile that lingered on her lips told Rio everything she needed to know.  

They made no pretenses about the pullout bed tonight. Instead, they quietly got ready for bed and slipped under the covers. The wine from dinner spread a secondary cozy blanket over both of them.

Rio kept her distance, clinging closely to the edge of the bed. But when she woke up in the middle of the night and felt Agatha’s heavy arm draped over her, she made no move to pull away.

Rio stood at the foot of the bed, hands on her hips, inspecting the light linen suit spread out before her. The fabric was soft, and breathable—a solid choice for a beach wedding, she supposed. But as she ran her fingers along the lapel, she frowned. It was nice . And nice wasn’t going to cut it. She wasn’t going for “nice.”  

She turned to Agatha, who was sitting at the small desk applying her makeup with practiced precision. “Hey,” Rio called, lifting the blazer. “What kind of wedding is this?”  

Agatha glanced over her shoulder, one eyebrow raised. “What do you mean?”  

Rio tilted her head. “Is this, like, a boring straight wedding? Or a gay one?”  

Agatha blinked, then burst into laughter, nearly smudging her eyeliner. “Craig is marrying his husband-to-be, John. Does that answer your question?”  

Rio grinned. “Got it. A fun wedding.”  

Still chuckling, Agatha returned to her makeup. “You’re impossible.”  

A knock at the door interrupted them. Agatha rose gracefully, smoothing down her outfit. She was dressed in a sleeveless, flowing dress in soft teal, with delicate gold accents catching the light as she moved. The bodice hugged her figure, flaring out at the waist into a skirt that skimmed her legs with every step. Her hair was styled in loose waves, pinned back on one side with a simple gold clip. She looked radiant, even without the finishing touches.  

“That’s my cue,” she said, grabbing her clutch. “We’re doing pictures before the ceremony, just the college group. Don’t take forever, okay?”  

“Yeah, yeah,” Rio waved her off. “Go relive some memories or whatever.”  

Agatha gave her a long, amused look before heading out the door, leaving the faint scent of her perfume lingering behind.  

Once the door clicked shut, Rio turned back to the suit. A spark of mischief lit in her chest as she picked up the blazer again.  

In a moment of daring, she tossed the shirt aside. Standing in front of the mirror, she slipped into the blazer and carefully buttoned it. Not too high, not too low—just enough to keep things interesting without crossing into overly risque territory. After a moment’s deliberation, she selected a sleek, black lace bra that peeked just slightly from underneath the edges of the fabric.  

She smirked at her reflection, adjusting the blazer until it was perfect. “Now this ,” she murmured to herself, “this is fun.”  

Sliding on the matching linen trousers, she completed the look with a simple pair of leather sandals and a silver chain around her neck.

She took a picture and sent it to Jen who responded right away.

I’m sorry. Did I miss the memo. Are you the one getting married?

Rio laughed and quickly typed her reply.

Is it too much?

Depends. Are you TRYING to get mauled by a bridesmaid? Or did you have someone else in mind?

Rio shook her head and shot back a quick A lady never tells.

Wrong. You’re telling me absolutely everything the second you get back. You look hot. Very Daddy. Go knock ‘em dead.

Before she could reply another text arrived.

Seriously though. If you elope and I don’t get to experience any beachside perks courtesy of you-know-who, who I’m sure would be a total bridezilla, I’ll never forgive you.

She snorted and rolled her eyes before slipping the phone into her pocket.

When she spotted Agatha in the crowd, her head was thrown back in a loud cackle, slapping playfully at her friend Jamie’s shoulder. As she approached several of her rowdy friends made obnoxious wolf whistles. But there was only one person whose reaction she cared about.

And Agatha delivered.

Her laughter softened as her eyes landed on Rio. For a moment, her expression stilled, the corners of her lips parting as if she were about to say something and forgot how. Her gaze lingered, roving over Rio’s open blazer, the hint of lace, and the easy confidence in her stride. Agatha’s cheeks flushed, and she quickly covered by taking a sip of champagne from the flute in her hand.

“Holy shit,” Jamie muttered under their breath, “Where have you been hiding her?”  

Agatha didn’t respond, distracted by the sight of Rio weaving through the crowd with an effortless kind of charm. As she approached, the whistles and teasing catcalls grew louder, and Rio raised an eyebrow slyly.

“Wow,” Rio said as she reached the group, her voice carrying over the chatter. “You all just come with built-in sound effects? I should hang out with theater dorks more often.”  

Jamie grinned, holding up their hands in surrender. “Hey, when someone looks that good, you gotta show some appreciation. Am I right?”  

Rio gave a wry smile but didn’t take her eyes off Agatha. “I don’t know about all that,” she said, slipping her hands into her pockets. “But I’ll take it.”  

Agatha finally spoke, her voice a touch breathless. “You look…” She trailed off, glancing away for a second before meeting Rio’s gaze again. “You look incredible.”  

Craig, the groom, appeared at Agatha’s side, wrapping her in a quick hug. “Okay, everyone settle down,” he called out, pretending to scold the group. “Let’s not scare off Agatha’s date before the ceremony even starts. You know John can’t handle being upstaged.”  

“Oh, they’d have to work harder than that,” Rio replied smoothly, winking at Craig.  

Agatha rolled her eyes, but the small, proud smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re all incorrigible,” she said, looping her arm through Rio’s and pulling her slightly aside.  

Once they were out of earshot, Agatha looked up at Rio, her expression softer now. “You clean up nice,” she murmured.   

“For you? Always.”

Agatha cleared her throat, glancing back toward the crowd. “Come on. Let’s grab a seat.”  

Rio grinned and let Agatha lead her, but the warmth of her words—and the way Agatha had looked at her—stayed with her as they found their places by the shore. 

The ceremony was simple but breathtaking, framed by the rolling waves and the soft glow of mid-morning sunlight. Craig and John exchanged vows beneath a floral arch adorned with white roses and pale blue hydrangeas. The officiant’s words blended with the rhythmic sounds of the ocean, creating a serene and heartfelt atmosphere.  

For her part, Rio wasn’t subtle. Every time Agatha looked away, Rio found herself marveling at the soft angles of her nose and jaw, the delicate updo now slightly tousled by the breeze. She didn’t bother hiding her grin when Agatha peeked over at her, cheeks faintly flushed.  

The afterparty was much livelier, the intimate ceremony giving way to music, laughter, and clinking glasses. Fairy lights twinkled in the palms as guests mingled around the open-air dance floor. Rio leaned against the bar, nursing her third drink—a fruity concoction Craig had recommended—and feeling pleasantly buzzed.  

“Dance with me,” she said, pouting playfully as Agatha joined her at the bar, holding a glass of champagne.  

Agatha raised an eyebrow, amused. “Absolutely not.”  

“Come on,” Rio coaxed, standing upright with a lopsided grin. “One dance won’t kill you.”  

Agatha shook her head, taking a sip from her glass. 

“Suit yourself. I’m here to have fun.”  

Rio winked and disappeared into the crowd. Agatha sighed, watching her weave through the dancers with an energy that felt contagious even from a distance.  

A few songs later, Rio was on the edge of the dance floor, now accompanied by a petite brunette in a shimmery dress. The woman was laughing and leaning in a little too closely. Rio looked sheepish, her hands up as if to politely deflect, but before she could say anything, Agatha was already crossing the floor.  

“Thanks for keeping her company,” Agatha said coolly, slipping between them with a practiced ease. Her smile was polite, but the sharpness in her tone left no room for argument.  

The brunette’s eyes widened, but she quickly recovered, giving an awkward laugh. “Oh, uh, no problem.” She glanced at Rio once more before walking away, muttering something about needing a drink.

Rio stared at Agatha, lips twitching like she was fighting back laughter. “Was that necessary?”  

Agatha’s gaze was steady, unreadable. “She was clearly getting too close.”  

Rio tilted her head, her grin widening. “Jealous?”  

Agatha’s lips curved faintly. “I just thought you might prefer better company.”  

Rio stepped closer, her buzz making her bolder. “Does that mean you’ll dance with me now?”  

Agatha sighed dramatically, setting her glass on a nearby table. “One dance.”  

Rio extended her hand, her grin softening into something warmer. “Deal.”  

As Agatha placed her hand in Rio’s, the music shifted into a slow song, and Agatha let out a low groan. “I’m going to regret this.”  

“Not a chance,” Rio said, pulling her in just close enough.

The first few steps were, in a word, disastrous. Rio tried to guide Agatha into a turn, but Agatha stubbornly anticipated the motion, tugging them both in an awkward shuffle.  

“Ow, watch it,” Agatha huffed as Rio accidentally clipped her foot.  

“You’re the one stepping all over me!” Rio shot back, trying not to laugh.  

Agatha glared half-heartedly, her hand tightening on Rio’s shoulder. “Maybe if you’d let me lead, this wouldn’t be a problem.”  

Rio stopped moving, her head tilting as she gave Agatha a look of exaggerated patience. “Agatha, you’ve been leading all day—no, all weekend. All… always. Just this once, let me take over.”  

Agatha pursed her lips, a mix of indignation and amusement flashing across her face. She hesitated before letting out an exasperated sigh. “Fine. But if you make me look ridiculous—”  

“I won’t. Trust me.” Rio’s tone softened, and she squeezed Agatha’s hand gently.  

Agatha fell quiet at that, her posture relaxing ever so slightly. With a small nod, she let Rio guide her into the rhythm of the song. It took a few steps, but they found their footing, Rio’s movements steady and sure.

“There,” Rio said with a smug grin. “Not so bad, is it?”  

“Don’t get cocky,” Agatha replied, though her tone was less sharp than usual.  

They swayed together, their movements gradually falling in sync as the music enveloped them. The world seemed to fade around them—the chatter of the guests, the twinkling lights—until it was just the two of them.  

Rio couldn’t help herself. Her eyes lingered on Agatha’s face, tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her lips. She leaned in ever so slightly, her breath catching as the strands of hair framing Agatha’s face swayed with their motion. She wanted to kiss her. God , she needed to kiss her.  

Agatha’s gaze flickered up to meet Rio’s, and for a moment, something unreadable passed between them. Her expression was calm, almost guarded, but there was a hint of softness, a vulnerability Rio couldn’t quite place.  

Rio hesitated, her lips hovering near Agatha’s temple before she pulled back with a small smile. “You’re doing great, by the way.”  

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “I’m a fantastic dancer. It’s your leading that’s questionable.”  

Rio laughed quietly, shaking her head. “Always so humble.”  

The song slowed, and so did their movements. They were barely swaying now, their bodies just close enough to feel the warmth radiating between them. Agatha’s hand slipped slightly against Rio’s shoulder, her fingers brushing the bare skin at the nape of her neck.  

“Rio,” Agatha said softly, almost uncertainly.  

“Yeah?” Rio’s voice was low, her gaze locked on Agatha’s.  

Agatha hesitated, but whatever she was about to say was interrupted by the upbeat start of the next song. She stepped back quickly, her mask of composure snapping into place. “We’re done. That’s enough dancing for one night.”  

Rio bit back a disappointed sigh, letting her hands drop to her sides. “Alright, if you say so.”  

Agatha’s hand caught her wrist and she gave her a pointed look. “Come on. We’re leaving.” She murmured lowly, tugging Rio after her.

As they briskly walked back to their room Rio questioned, “Is everything alright? Did I一”

“Stop talking. Let me think.” Agatha hissed coolly, not letting up on her breakneck pace or her tight grip.

She hauled her back into the room, and Rio was breathless as the door shut. Agatha considered her for just a moment, then roughly shoved her and Rio gasped as her back hit the door. Agatha stood a foot away, studying her, watching her. Rio noticed a vein in her neck pulse slightly.

“Did I do something一”

Her words were lost as Agatha crashed into her. Her hands cupped Rio’s face but the press of her lips against hers was far from gentle. Rio gasped into the kiss and Agatha took the opportunity to hungrily press her tongue past her lips. She could feel Agatha’s hands drift to the shoulders of her suit jacket, then with intent move to the buttons barely holding it together.

She realized that her own hands were clenched at her sides. That wouldn’t do. If they were doing this, and as Agatha’s knuckles brushed over her stomach she couldn’t fathom doing anything else, she was going to take the opportunity to go all in.

Finally, finally, she let her hands tangle in Agatha’s hair, pulling the clip free and letting it fall down. Her hands wrapped in it, desperately pulling Agatha closer to her. They kissed until they were breathless, she could taste the alcohol on her. When Agatha finally pulled away they were both gasping.

Agatha glanced down at the now open jacket, eyes widening as she took in the lacy black bra underneath. “What the fuck were you thinking?” She growled, moving to kiss down Rio’s neck as she shoved the suit jacket off her shoulders.

Rio's head tilted back against the door as Agatha’s lips seared a trail down her neck, the words catching up to her in a haze of adrenaline and heat.  

“What the fuck was I thinking?” Rio managed, her voice uneven. “You’re the one who dragged me back here like a jealous一”  

Agatha nipped at her collarbone, and Rio’s breath hitched.  

“Don’t start,” Agatha muttered, her hands tightening on Rio’s waist as if to keep her grounded. There was a quiet ferocity in the way she touched her, a frustration in every movement. Agatha’s fingers skimmed over the exposed skin of Rio’s ribs, slipping under the edges of her bra.

Rio couldn’t help but smile, despite the intensity of the moment. “Is that what this is about? Admit it. You didn’t like the attention I was getting.”  

Agatha froze for a fraction of a second, just long enough for Rio to notice.  

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Agatha finally said, though her voice lacked its usual sharp edge. She leaned back just enough to look Rio in the eyes, her gaze fierce and searching. “You’re impossible, you know that?”  

Rio’s grin widened. “It’s part of my charm.”  

Agatha scoffed, but the corners of her mouth twitched. Her hands drifted lower, tracing the curve of Rio’s hips through the fabric of her pants. “You waltz in wearing this ,” she gestured vaguely, “and expect me to just sit back and watch?”  

“You didn’t have to watch,” Rio teased, her hands sliding to Agatha’s waist. “But you did, didn’t you?”  

Agatha’s jaw tightened, her eyes narrowing. Instead of answering, she kissed her again—this time slower, but no less intense. It wasn’t just hunger; it was something deeper, something neither of them was ready to name.  

Rio felt herself melt into the kiss, letting Agatha take control. She could feel the tension in her, the way her fingers trembled slightly as they traced the edges of Rio’s bra.  

When they broke apart, Agatha’s forehead rested against hers. “You drive me insane,” she murmured, so quietly Rio almost didn’t hear it.  

“Good.” Rio’s voice was soft, but there was a playful lilt in it. She brushed a strand of Agatha’s hair back, her thumb lingering against her cheek. “I think I like you like this.”  

Agatha pulled back slightly, her expression unreadable. For a moment, Rio thought she might say something, but instead, Agatha shook her head and muttered, “You're going to kill me.”  

“Maybe,” Rio replied, her grin returning.

The faintest hint of a smile tugged at Agatha’s lips before she leaned in again, this time slower, more deliberate. Rio couldn’t tell if it was a punishment or a reward, but she didn’t care. All that mattered was the way Agatha’s hands felt against her, grounding her and pulling her closer all at once.

It didn’t take long for their kiss to grow heated again. Agatha pushed her knee roughly between Rio’s legs and she couldn’t help her moan as she reached to push up Agatha’s dress. She wanted to watch, to see Agatha’s face as she grinded against her knee. But the thought of breaking her lips away for even a moment was impossible.

As she pushed the dress higher, her fingers brushed something lace and she broke away to groan again, pulling Agatha’s bottom lip with her teeth.

Agatha’s eyes were wild and frenzied as she pulled Rio back, spinning her and pushing her onto the bed. Rio landed with a soft gasp and propped herself up onto her elbows as Agatha stalked towards her.

The woman climbed into her lap, again capturing her lips in a hungry kiss.

“Fuck. Agatha.” Rio husked, moving to nip at her ear. “You look so fucking hot. You’re so fucking beautiful. I never thought一”

“Stop.” Agatha pulled away suddenly, standing as if she’d been burned.

Rio looked up at her completely confused. Agatha straightened her dress and ran her hand through her hair. “We… we can’t do this,” she said, biting her lip slightly as she looked over Rio’s mussed state.

“What? What do you mean?” Rio sat up, caught off guard completely.

“I don’t pay people for sex.” Agatha said firmly, even as her anxious energy led her to begin to pace. “That’s not what I do. That’s not what I’m going to do with you.”

“Hey, hey, hey no!” Rio quickly interjected. “This isn’t that. This isn’t like that at all. I don’t一” She moved to stand but in that moment all of the evening's drinks caught up with her and she staggered slightly before falling back on the bed.

“I’m paying you to be here aren’t I?” Agatha snapped.

“Then don’t pay me! Agatha, I want this, I want一”

“Rio, you’re drunk. You’re drunk and you’re young and you don’t know what you want.”

Rio frowned in both frustration and hurt. “Don’t start that. Agatha, don’t treat me like I can’t think for myself. And don’t you dare treat me like I’m just another person who wants to be around you because of what you can do for them.”

Agatha froze mid-step, her back to Rio. The tension in her shoulders was unmistakable, her hands curling into fists at her sides. For a moment, it seemed like she might not respond at all. Then, with a deep breath, she turned to face her, her expression guarded but conflicted.  

“This is complicated,” Agatha said, her voice quieter now, but still firm. “You don’t understand what this looks like from my side…” She trailed off, her jaw tightening as she looked away again.  

“Agatha,” Rio said softly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “Look at me.”  

Reluctantly, Agatha’s eyes met hers.  

“This isn’t about what you can do for me.” Rio’s voice was calm but insistent. “You think I’m here because of your money? Or because you’re… whatever it is you think people want from you? I’m here because I like you . Because you’re smart, and funny, and yeah, a little terrifying, but in a good way.”  

Agatha crossed her arms, her gaze flickering as if she didn’t want to let herself believe it.  

Rio pushed herself up from the bed, a little unsteady but determined. She closed the space between them, stopping just short of touching her. “You’re scared, and I get that. I’m scared too. But don’t push me away because you’ve decided what this is for me without asking.”  

For a long moment, Agatha didn’t say anything. Her eyes searched Rio’s face, as if trying to find some crack in her words, some sign of deceit or ulterior motive.  

“You don’t know what you’re getting into,” Agatha finally said, her voice low. “You think this is simple. But it’s not. I’m not simple.”  

Rio smiled faintly, the corners of her mouth softening. “Good. I don’t like simple.”  

Agatha huffed a quiet laugh despite herself, though it was tinged with frustration. “You’re impossible.”  

“So I’ve been told,” Rio quipped, her grin widening slightly. “But you didn’t answer my question.”  

Agatha raised an eyebrow. “Which one?”  

Rio stepped a little closer, her voice dropping. “Do you want me here? Right now. Do you want me?”  

Agatha’s breath hitched, and for a moment, Rio saw her mask falter. She looked away, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.  

“Say it, Agatha,” Rio urged gently. “If you don’t want this, I’ll stop. I won’t mention it ever again. But if you do, stop overthinking it. Stop trying to convince yourself it’s wrong . It’s not wrong to want things.”  

Agatha’s gaze snapped back to Rio’s, sharp and vulnerable all at once. “Of course I want you,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “That’s the problem.”  

Rio smiled softly, relief washing over her. “Then let’s figure the rest out later. Just… be here with me. Right now.”  

For a moment, Agatha didn’t move, as if caught between fight and flight. Then, slowly, she stepped closer, her arms falling to her sides. “You make it sound so easy,” she muttered.  

“It’s not,” Rio replied, her hands finally finding Agatha’s, their fingers brushing tentatively before intertwining. “But it’s what I want.”  

Agatha exhaled shakily, and then, without another word, she closed the remaining distance between them, leaning her forehead against Rio’s. “This is such a bad idea,” she murmured.  

“And you’re still here,” Rio teased gently, her grin returning.  

Agatha’s lips twitched, and this time, when she kissed her, it was slower, softer, but no less certain.

“Look,” Rio said, calmer than she’d anticipated, “I don’t want you to have any doubts. I don’t want something to happen tonight and then you dwell on it and freak out later. If you want to know I’m sure, that’s fine. We don’t have to do anything right now.” She studied Agatha’s expression, chancing a smile at her. “Just… let’s just go to bed. We can talk more tomorrow. Figure out what’s next. But tonight, just… just be here with me.”

Agatha didn’t speak for a long time. But she eventually sighed and nodded. “Okay.” More firmly, she repeated, “Okay. We can do that.”

Rio smiled and gently kissed her cheek. “Okay,” she confirmed, “Good. I’m gonna go change.” She let her hand trail over Agatha’s as she slipped away to quickly gather some clothes. Once in the bathroom, she studied herself in the mirror. 

Her fingers brushed over her kiss-swollen lips and she laughed softly to herself.

Chapter Text

She spent far more time in the bathroom than necessary to change clothes as her pent up energy began to spiral into, well, spiraling. Had Agatha had a chance to change yet? Was Rio taking too long? Was she not taking long enough? She was definitely taking too long now. Rio took a deep breath and splashed some cold water on her face. “Get it the fuck together,” she whispered to her reflection.

This had been a familiar mantra every since she first saw Agatha’s picture on Jen’s phone. But never had it been more of an urgent and desperate plea.

Because never before had she tried to reel herself in after having Agatha, not a dream, actual Agatha put her hands on her body, her lips on her neck, her tongue in her mouth, her knee on her一 Rio groaned softly as she began to brush her teeth.

Her mind wandered to how thoroughly she’d kissed her, like their kiss was a tether. As if gravity itself had shifted to crash them together. She thought about they way her fingers had felt on her stomach, following the smooth lines down her torso but dipping to linger on her softer stomach. She tried to get it together and shake the sound of Agatha’s low moan out of her ears. 

She finished brushing her teeth with a little more vigor than necessary, rinsing her mouth and glaring at her reflection. "Just be normal. Like a normal person. You’re capable of that, right?" she muttered, her voice low and firm. She dried her face, took another deep breath, and stepped back into the bedroom, determined to keep her composure.  

Agatha was already in bed, propped up against a stack of pillows, wearing soft gray pajamas that clung in ways Rio was trying very hard not to notice. The book from the beach was perched in her hands, finally near its end. She looked up briefly when Rio entered, her expression unreadable but calm, as if nothing at all out of the ordinary had transpired between them.

"Everything okay?" Agatha asked lightly, tilting her head.  

Rio blinked. “Yeah. Fine.” She lingered near the doorway for a beat too long, studying her. Agatha looked collected, almost infuriatingly so, but Rio caught the faint flush lingering on her chest and cheeks, the way her fingers shifted ever so slightly on the book’s edge. She added quickly, “Why wouldn’t it be?”  

Agatha hummed in response, a teasing lilt in the sound. “You tell me.”  

Rio rolled her eyes and made her way to the bed, easing onto her side of it as though proximity to Agatha might be dangerous. She busied herself with adjusting the pillows, the sheets, anything to avoid the obvious pull in the room.  

Agatha turned another page in her book, clearly unbothered—or pretending to be. But Rio couldn’t help but notice the faintest flush still lingering on her cheeks, the way her chest rose and fell just a touch faster than normal. Agatha might be better at hiding it, but Rio could see she wasn’t unaffected.  

“Nice pajamas,” Rio said suddenly, breaking the silence.  

Agatha glanced at her, an eyebrow quirking. “What, this old thing?” She smirked and gave an exaggerated tug at the hem of her shirt.  

Rio laughed softly, shaking her head. “Yeah, sure. Very modest. You definitely weren’t just trying to kill me or anything.”  

Agatha’s smirk widened, and she closed her book just enough to point it at Rio. “Says the woman who spent the night in a suit jacket and that bra. You have no room to talk. I know that I ordered a shirt with the suit. That wasn’t my doing.”  

“Hey, the look was for me.” Rio grinned. “You just happened to also benefit.”  

“Uh-huh,” Agatha said, her voice dripping with disbelief.

Rio grinned but let it drop, focusing on settling into bed. She lay on her side, staring at the ceiling, hyper-aware of Agatha beside her. She wasn’t touching her, not even close, but she could feel her presence, the warmth of her body like a gravitational pull.  

For a while, Rio resisted. But slowly, almost unconsciously, she began to scoot closer, inch by inch, her movements so slight she hoped they weren’t noticeable.  

“Rio.”  

The sound of her name startled her, and she froze. Agatha set her book down and turned her head, her expression equal parts amused and fond. “For someone who just had her tongue halfway down my throat, you’re being awfully shy.”  

“I’m not being shy,” Rio said, a little too quickly. “And I’ll remind you, that you started that.”

Agatha’s lips quirked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Guilty. But just so you know, if you want to be held, you don’t have to sneak your way over. You just have to ask.”  

Rio opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. “I wasn’t sneaking.”  

Agatha arched an eyebrow.  

“I wasn’t,” she quickly repeated, the last word betraying her as it curled into a whine.  

Agatha chuckled, her voice low and warm, and then she reached out, tugging Rio gently toward her. “Come here.”  

Rio let herself be pulled in, her body relaxing as she settled against Agatha’s side. The scent of her was intoxicating, the steady rhythm of her heartbeat soothing.  

They lay together in the quiet, the only sounds the faint crash of waves outside and the rustle of the sheets as they shifted closer. Agatha’s fingers idly trailed through Rio’s hair, occasionally tracing over her cheek.

Rio tilted her head slightly, glancing up at Agatha. Her lips parted, the words caught on the edge of her tongue. Finally, she said, “This was... a really good night.”  

Agatha’s mouth curved into a small, knowing smile. “You don’t say.”  

There wasn’t much more to say after that. The air between them didn’t need to be filled. Rio let out a long breath, her body unwinding against Agatha’s. She closed her eyes, the steady rhythm of Agatha’s heartbeat beneath her ear pulling her deeper into calm.  

Her last conscious thought before sleep took her was how safe she felt in Agatha’s arms.  

For the first time in a long time, Rio didn’t dream.

What was left for her to want for?

Rio woke to the soft scratch of a pen against paper. She blinked, disoriented for a moment before her eyes focused on Agatha, seated at the small desk in the corner of the room. Morning light filtered in through the gauzy curtains, casting a soft glow on her as she worked with intense concentration, her bottom lip caught lightly between her teeth.  

Agatha was already dressed, her hair neatly pulled back. The sight of her so put together while Rio was still tangled in the sheets made her smile.  

She stretched languidly, the movement catching Agatha’s attention. “Morning,” Agatha said, glancing over her shoulder.  

“Morning,” Rio mumbled, sitting up and running a hand through her hair. She noticed a pile of crumpled up papers on the desk and arched a brow. “Been busy?”  

Agatha cleared her throat, setting the pen down and turning to face Rio. “I’ve been thinking,” she began, her tone measured, like she was delivering a report. “If we’re going to… change the nature of our relationship, we need to establish some parameters.”  

“Parameters?” Rio repeated, amused but hiding it well.  

“Yes. For starters, I’m not paying you for anything anymore. That’s non-negotiable for both of us I think.” Agatha moved her pen to the next item on her list “I also think we need to take things slow. At least two actual regular dates before we... escalate again.”  

“Two dates, huh?” Rio leaned back against the headboard, her grin growing. “Not one? Not three?”  

Agatha ignored the teasing, flipping to another sheet. “And, this one is important, no major decisions while drunk.” She shot Rio a pointed look, though there was no real heat in it.  

Rio nodded solemnly, though the twitch of her lips betrayed her. “Makes sense. Very thorough. Anything else, or have you drafted an NDA for me to sign too?”  

Agatha froze mid-motion, her cheeks flushing. “No!” She cleared her throat, flipping to yet another sheet of paper. “Oh, and no sleepovers.”  

Rio blinked, then looked pointedly at the rumpled bed she was still in. “Agatha, I’m literally in your bed right now.”  

“That doesn’t count,” Agatha said, flustered. “That was before we established ground rules.”  

Rio smirked. “Ah, so this is a retroactive rule. Got it. So we’re also not counting when you nursed me back to health in your home after knowing me for a month?”  

Agatha shot her a withering look but pressed on. “I’m willing to share some of my wardrobe with you. Jackets freely, shirts occasionally, but never shoes.”  

“In what world do I want to share your shoes?” Rio asked, bewildered, “Half of them would kill me and the other half would permanently fuck up my ankles.” 

“Just covering my bases.” Agatha tapped the list with her pen for emphasis. “And no public displays of affection. At least not until we’ve sorted what this is out.”  

Rio threw her head back, laughing. “You do realize half your friends were wolf-whistling at us yesterday because of how ‘sorted out’ we already looked, right?”  

Agatha’s cheeks burned red, but she stubbornly refused to back down. “This is different. These are preventative measures.”  

“Preventative measures,” Rio repeated, shaking her head with a grin. “You’re something else, Agatha.”  

“Am I wrong?” Agatha challenged, crossing her arms, though her lips twitched as if she was trying not to laugh. “I don’t do things without a plan. Well, I did one time and look where that got me.” She couldn’t help the fond smile that spread over her face even while trying to rile Rio up. “I’m just trying to be thorough and you’re being impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” Rio said with a wink, earning an eye roll and a reluctant smile in return. She moved to Agatha’s side and lightly touched her elbow. “Seriously though, I’m teasing you but I think that all makes sense. Except maybe that last one. People have already seen me around you. I’ve been introduced as your date several times.” She smiled at Agatha and shrugged softly. “It’s up to you. I’ll follow your lead in public. But I’m just saying, I think it would be weirder if we never touched.”

Agatha hummed, and Rio feeling a little playful let her grin grow sly, “Besides, it would help avoid miscommunications like with that girl who wanted to dance with me last night.”

Agatha’s eyes flashed for a second and she pursed her lips. “I didn’t care for that.”

Rio couldn’t resist the opening. She crossed her arms with an easy grin. “Oh, I know. You’re cute when you’re jealous, though.”  

Agatha turned, fixing Rio with a sharp look. “I am not jealous.”  

“You shoved her out of the way like a linebacker. I’m just saying it was a little territorial.”  

Agatha scoffed, but her cheeks flushed faintly. “I wasn’t jealous. I just didn’t like someone… you know, bothering you.”  

Rio raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sounds an awful lot like jealousy to me. I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it though”  

Agatha narrowed her eyes, but then curiosity softened her expression. “Are you the jealous type?”  

Rio tilted her head, genuinely considering the question. “Not really,” she said after a moment. “But I don’t think I’ve had a reason to be.” She shrugged. “I figure if someone’s with me, they’re choosing to be. And if they’re not? Well, I’m not wasting my time trying to convince them otherwise.”  

Agatha gave her a long look, something unspoken passing between them. Finally, she nodded. “Fair enough.”

Rio gently pecked her cheek, “But I’ve also never been with someone like you before, so I guess we’ll find out,” she laughed. 

She easily dodged the flurry of papers that were thrown at her. 

They moved around the room, finishing their packing in companionable silence, interrupted only by Rio’s occasional quips and Agatha’s eye-rolls that couldn’t quite hide her amusement. Just as they were zipping up the last bag, a knock sounded at the door.  

A few of Agatha’s friends bustled in, chatting and laughing, wanting to catch up one last time before they went their separate ways. Rio grinned and excused herself to give them some privacy, stepping outside onto the deck and taking in one last view of the sea.  

She was leaning against the porch railing, enjoying the breeze, when the door opened, and one of Agatha’s friends—Priya, if she remembered correctly—stepped out to join her.  

“Hey there,” Priya said casually, leaning on the railing beside her.  

“Hey,” Rio replied, glancing at her.  

Priya was quiet for a moment before speaking. “You’re good for her, we like you.”  

Rio raised an eyebrow. “Is this the part where you give me a shovel talk?”  

Priya chuckled. “Nah. If I thought you were bad news, I’d have done it already. And Melissa certainly would have already sized you up and chewed you out. You check out. But I’m not gonna lie—we’re all protective of her. Agatha’s been through a lot, and we haven’t seen her this… her, in a long time. You bring out something good in her. So just… pay attention to that, okay?”  

Rio looked at Priya, a rare seriousness settling over her. “I get it. And I wouldn’t blame you if you did give me a shovel talk. You don’t know me. If I’m honest with you, I’m still getting to know her. But everything I’ve seen, it’s only made me want to know her more. People, not you guys, but others seem to be obsessed with the least interesting things about her. I just… really like her.” Rio blushed lightly, she hadn’t expected all of that to come tumbling out.

Priya studied her for a moment, then nodded. “Good. That’s all I needed to hear.” She straightened and clapped Rio on the shoulder. “Alright then. I’m officially rooting for you. And if you really fuck it up we all know she’s capable of killing you and covering it up herself.”

Rio laughed and shook her head, “I don’t doubt it.”

As they headed back inside, Rio caught the tail end of Agatha’s conversation with her other friends.

“We all saw you drag her off the dance floor last night. All of us. The way you two were looking at each other—come on, what happened?” 

“Oh god, Melissa,” Agatha muttered, her cheeks flushing slightly. She swirled her coffee, trying to avoid eye contact with the group. “It wasn’t like that. We were just....”

“What’s going on in here?” Rio asked playfully, raising her voice enough to let them know that their subject of conversation was back in the room.

“Oh, nothing,” Melissa said with a mischievous smile, leaning back on the couch. “Just having a little discussion about you and Agatha’s dance floor antics last night.”

Rio’s eyebrows shot up and the others exchanged knowing glances, clearly excited to have Rio’s attention now. 

Agatha let out a heavy sigh, leaning her head back against the armrest as she stared at the ceiling in exaggerated exasperation. “This is ridiculous. Can we please move on? It’s not like you’re going to get any juicy details out of me.”

Three pairs of eyes darted to Rio in unison.

She shrugged at them. “Sorry kids. She says no. And as much as I hate to disappoint any of you, I have a seven hour flight with this one. And I already downloaded two movies so I don’t want to spend that time getting chewed out.” Rio teased, sitting down on the arm of the couch next to Agatha, who shot her a sidelong glance, still looking like she might die of embarrassment.

“Well, at least we’ve got the confirmation we needed,” Jamie said with a satisfied grin.

“What confirmation is that darling?” Agatha asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Whether she kept you on a tight leash, or if it was the other way around.”

Rio snorted and Agatha rolled her eyes, but there was no hiding the smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Alright, enough,” she said, holding up a hand in mock surrender. “I swear, I can’t take any more of this. This is why I can only handle seeing you guys once a year.”

“C’mon don’t you wanna know what we concluded?” Jamie teased.

“Mm save it for next time, we’re late for the airport.”

They all laughed together once more before exchanging quick hugs and heading their separate ways. 

The plane ride and drive home were both filled with quiet conversation, the kind of soft, lingering exchanges that neither wanted to end. When Agatha pulled up outside Rio’s apartment, they both hesitated.  

“Well, I’ll see you soon?” Rio said, her voice low as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She glanced at Agatha, reluctant to leave.  

Agatha nodded. “I’ll call you this week when I’m settled back in. Whenever I take a vacation is usually when all hell breaks loose so I’m probably going to have a couple of busy days.”  

“I’ll wait,” Rio promised.  

With a small smile, she climbed out of the car and grabbed her bag from the backseat. She was halfway up the front steps when she heard Agatha call out, “Rio!”  

Turning, she saw Agatha leaning slightly out the driver’s side window. She jogged back towards the car but before Rio could ask what she’d forgotten, Agatha reached out and grabbed her wrist, tugging her close to the car. Her lips brushed against Rio’s in a quick, firm kiss.

Rio blinked in surprise, her cheeks warm. “What was that for?” she asked breathlessly.  

Agatha smiled, her expression soft. But she recovered quickly and gave her a cheeky exaggerated wink. “For the road.”  

Rio grinned, shaking her head as she backed away. “Drive safe.”  

She watched Agatha pull away, standing there until the car disappeared around the corner. Then, with a deep breath, she turned and headed inside, her heart still pounding.  

The door to her apartment had barely clicked shut when Jen appeared out of nowhere, launching herself at Rio in an enthusiastic hug. “You’re home!”  

“Barely,” Rio laughed, staggering under the force of Jen’s embrace.  

“Don’t even think about setting your stuff down,” Jen declared, dragging Rio toward the sofa. “We need to talk. Now. Sit.”  

Rio dropped her bag in the hallway and let herself be pulled along, collapsing onto the couch as Jen poured two glasses of wine.  

“Okay,” Jen said, handing her a glass and settling in like she was preparing for a marathon. “Spill. Everything.”  

Rio took a cautious sip, trying to figure out how to summarize everything without giving too much away. “It was nice,” she began. “You know, relaxing, quiet. We had some good food, saw the ocean一”  

“Oh, no, no, no,” Jen interrupted, waving her hand. “That’s not what I mean, and you know it. Don’t you dare try to vague mumble your way out of this.” She fixed Rio with a pointed look. “I saw you!”  

“Saw me what?” Rio asked, though her heart sank as Jen’s grin widened.  

“I saw her call you back for a goodbye kiss,” Jen said, her voice sing-song as she mimed a dramatic swoon. “It was like something out of a rom-com, Rio! You can’t just gloss over that.”  

Rio groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Of course you saw that. The fuck were you doing, just staring out the window like a creep?”  

“Damn right I was,” Jen said, practically vibrating with excitement. “Now spill. Is she your girlfriend now? Are you guys u-hauling? Are you two in love? How was the sex? She’s a total top right? Well, I don’t know though一”  

“Jen!” Rio laughed, lowering her hands.  

“What?” Jen asked innocently, though the mischievous glint in her eye gave her away. “I just want to know everything. So start talking otherwise my mind is going to keep going crazy.”  

Rio sighed, but her smile was soft as she leaned back against the cushions. “Alright, fine. Where do you want me to start?”  

“Well you left here Thursday at eleven so let’s start at noon,” Jen replied without missing a beat, holding up the bottle to refill their glasses.  

Rio swirled her wine, the rich red catching the light, as she leaned back against Jen's sofa. “You really want me to go through everything?”  

Jen leveled her with a look. “Start from the top. Don’t skip anything good. I want the highlights reel, the bloopers, the unhinged rom-com moments, the gay yearning—all of it.”  

Rio sighed dramatically, but the smile tugging at her lips gave her away. “Alright, alright. Thursday, we fly to Antigua, right? Agatha meets me at the airport looking effortlessly gorgeous—sunglasses, chic blazer, the whole thing. She gets into this ridiculous fight at baggage check-in about the principle of overweight luggage fees or whatever.”  

“And you, of course, fell even harder,” Jen interjected.  

“I’ve never been more mortified but also weirdly charmed at the same time,” Rio admitted. “Anyway, we get to the hotel, and like I told you it’s gorgeous. We go to the beach and I almost drowned一”

“Yes, yes, when your dashing lover cradled you in the ocean like a romance novel cover. I remember.”

“Shut up. Do you want this story or not?”

Jen mimed zipping her lips.

“Anyways, we go back to the room and it turns out there’s this pullout sofa. She’s weirdly chivalrous or whatever but she also let me freak out the whole day about there only being one bed because she’s a nightmare.”  

Jen laughed, pouring herself another glass. “Got it so your dreams are crushed and you’re on the pullout, iconic, did you just suck it up, or...?”  

“I couldn’t get comfortable and the fucking thing creaked like it was auditioning for a horror movie soundtrack. I lasted maybe twenty minutes before she basically yelled at me to just get in bed with her,” Rio said, holding up a hand to stop Jen before she started. “And no, nothing happened. We just slept. I was clinging to the edge of the mattress to like, you know, not be weird about it.”  

“Adorable,” Jen said, clearly unconvinced.  

“Then Friday was the reception dinner,” Rio went on. “I met her friends. They were great—a little intense like you’d expect any friend of Agatha’s to be but in the best way. Oh, and get this! Agatha was a college theater kid.”  

Jen cackled, nearly spilling her wine. “Please tell me you have pictures.”  

“Not yet, but I’m working on it,” Rio said with a grin. “Her friends had so many stories about her, and they were about her but it was also like hearing about some completely different version of her. They were all reminiscing, and you could just see how much they adore her. It was nice, you know? Seeing that side of her.”

“And what did they think of you, her new hot younger model? Like, they were friends with her ex too right?”

Rio beamed. “You’re looking at what they called an upgrade!”

“Oh god, great, just what you needed, more people to inflate your ego.” Jean laughed and playfully shook her head. “Okay so Saturday, the wedding,” Jen prompted, leaning forward.  

Rio hesitated, her tone softening. “It was beautiful, Jen. Like, sunset over the water, strings of lights, the works. And I don’t know... something about it made everything feel so much bigger. She was so beautiful I can’t even explain it. She carries herself like she knows she’s hot, but I don’t know if she knows she’s gorgeous. And she just, kept looking at me the whole time. There was the girl who tried to dance with me and she got weirdly jealous and did the whole cutting in move一”

“Hot.”

Rio rolled her eyes. “And then she was kind of weird about it and just drug me back to our room.”

“And?”

“And she shoved me against the door like she was mad at me一”

“And?!” Jen repeated, her voice jumping in pitch as she moved to the edge of her seat.

“And we kissed. She kissed me.”  

Jen whistled low, her grin widening. “Finally.” She took a big sip of her wine before twirling her hand, “Go on…” 

“And it was... intense,” Rio admitted. “Like, everything kind of fell away, and it was just us. It got heated. Really heated for a second. But then we didn’t go any further. She wanted to take things slow, and honestly? I think she was right. It felt big. Like we’re standing at the edge of something huge. And she was worried about the whole power dynamics of it and一”  

“Oh god, a practical and considerate romantic, those are the worst kinds,” Jen groaned, dramatically covering her eyes. She let out a slow breath, studying Rio with an amused but knowing expression. “You’re gone, aren’t you? Like, completely gone for her.”  

Rio smiled softly, her eyes dropping to her glass. “Yeah. I am.”  

Jen leaned back, swirling her wine thoughtfully. “So, now what. Do you want me to give you a talk? Warn you not to go for it? Be the protective best friend?”  

Rio looked up, her smile faltering. “I don’t know. Are you worried?”  

Jen considered her for a long moment before shaking her head. “No. I trust you, Rio. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, it sounds like you’re both maturely handling this, and honestly, you’ve never looked this happy. Any worries I have? They’re just the normal, ‘I love my best friend and want the best for her’ kind. Nothing more.”

Rio exhaled, her shoulders relaxing as a smile broke across her face. “Thanks, Jen.”  

“Don’t mention it,” Jen said, holding up her glass. “But if this turns into a rom-com wedding montage where you two end up married in Antigua, I’m officiating. Deal?”

Rio laughed, clinking her glass against Jen’s. “Deal.”

A few days later, as Rio was finishing some deeply overdue laundry, her phone buzzed on the coffee table. She picked it up, seeing Agatha's name light up on the screen. Without hesitation, she pressed the answer button.

"Hey," Rio said, a grin creeping onto her face as she leaned back on the couch, settling in. "How’s it going?”

"Hey you," Agatha's voice came through, smooth and warm, making Rio’s heart skip a beat. "I just wanted to check in… It’s been crazy here but, uhm, I’ve missed you.”

Rio smiled to herself, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. She let out a small, amused chuckle. "Yeah? Miss me, huh? That's a pretty bold statement."

"I know, right?" Agatha said, with a little laugh of her own. "But I mean it."

Rio’s smile softened, and she ran a hand through her hair. "Well, I missed you too, obviously."

There was a brief silence between them before Agatha spoke again. "So, listen, I’ve got an idea," she said, her voice light. "Are you free Friday night?"

Rio raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “I could be. Let me check my schedule…” She paused for dramatic effect, tapping her fingers against her phone like she was doing some serious planning. “Hmm, would you look at that, it looks like I have a spot blocked for a date with someone incredibly attractive and out of my league."

Agatha laughed, the sound making Rio's heart flutter. "I’m glad to hear that. I was hoping that was the case," she said, "I’ll pick you up then.”

“Oh, you’ll pick me up, huh?” Rio teased. “What’s the plan? Should I wear something fancy? Do I need to check the dress code for this exclusive date you’ve got planned?”

“You can wear whatever you want. But just know that I’ll look good regardless,” she teased, her tone playful. “I mean, you’re the one who’s got to figure out how to keep up with me.”

Rio let out a mock gasp. "Oh, you seriously think I have a shot of keeping up with you? That’s a lot of pressure, Agatha."

"Yeah, well," Agatha said with a grin that Rio could practically hear, "you knew what you were getting into."

Rio’s smile turned a little softer, a little more genuine, as she leaned in closer to the phone. "I know," she said, her voice quieting just a bit. "I’m looking forward to it."

Agatha’s voice dropped to something a little more sincere, though still playful. “Good. Now, as for the outfit—” she paused before continuing, “I actually do think you look great in most everything you wear. Just promise me I never have to see those god-awful neon glasses again.”

Rio’s chest tightened in a way she hadn’t expected. Her smile was warm as she let out a soft breath. "You’re lucky I’m so fond of you, Agatha. Really lucky.”

“I know,” Agatha replied. “So, I’ll pick you up around 7?”

"Sounds good to me," Rio said, her voice low with anticipation. "I’ll be ready."

“Great,” Agatha said, her voice bright and hopeful. "I’ll see you then."

“Te veo.”

As Rio ended the call and set her phone down, a small, genuine smile played across her lips. She wasn’t sure what Agatha had planned for their date, but she was looking forward to it more than she cared to admit.

“Hey Jen? I know your nosy ass was listening. You want to go shopping?” She called, laughing as Jen immediately appeared from her hiding place in the kitchen.

“First of all, you two are nasty, I legitimately think hearing you have phone sex would’ve been less intimate than whatever the fuck that was. Second, yes of course, you don’t know how long I’ve been dying for you to say that.”

Chapter Text

Rio thanked every higher power she believed in, and threw in few she didn’t for good measure, that Jen was running late from work and not yet home when Agatha knocked at her door.

“Hey!” She opened it with a grin and motioned Agatha inside.

The woman swept in, a few early snow flurries clinging to her long coat. “I’m glad to see you didn’t tidy up on my account,” she teased as she lingered in the entryway.

“Hush. It’s fine.” Rio replied with an eye roll. “We’re not staying, just give me a minute to finish getting ready.”

Agatha gave her a slow appraising look from head to toe. “Finish? Or are you starting?”

Rio quickly assessed her outfit in comparison. Under Agatha’s knee-length camel coat, she wore dark plum trousers and a crisp white shirt, as well as a new pair of boots with a modest heel that raised her just slightly taller than Rio.

She suddenly felt underdressed in her simple pullover sweater and dark jeans. “Am I not… you said there wasn’t a dress code!” She said, her voice edging towards indignant.

Agatha laughed and took Rio’s hand to squeeze it. “I’m teasing you. You look great, that green is a good color on you.”

Rio grumbled but accepted a quick kiss on her cheek. However, she did switch from her worn-out Vans to a pair of boots, and after a moment shrugged on the leather jacket Agatha had gifted to her.

“See?” Agatha teased. “All coming together. You just need an accessory.”

Rio turned to ask what she meant, but Agatha had pulled a slim box from her bag and was already offering it out to her.

She raised her eyebrow and lifted the lid.

Inside was a simple leather band watch, that perfectly matched the tone of her jacket.

“Agatha. It’s nice, but I thought we agreed on you not buying meー”

“It’s not for you ,” Agatha tutted, “it’s for me. I’ve really tried but I can't bear to look at that toy on your wrist for another moment.”

Rio glanced at her black Casio, “What? It’s a classic!”

“It’s also broken,” Agatha added dryly.

“It just needs a battery!”

Agatha gave her a placating smile and nodded, “Of course dear, so how about you just take this one until you get it fixed.”

Rio huffed in protest but took off the old watch and allowed Agatha to fasten the new one into place. She had to admit, the thinner band looked nice against her delicate wrist.

Agatha hummed, pleased, then gently kissed Rio’s hand. “Shall we?”

Rio grumbled again but shoved her keys and wallet into her pockets and led them out the door.

As they descended the stairs, the sound of footsteps ahead made Rio’s stomach drop. Turning the corner, she saw Jen coming up the stairs, a takeout bag in one hand and her work bag in the other.  

Jen’s gaze flicked between Rio and Agatha, a slow, knowing grin spreading across her face.  

“Hey, Jen,” Rio said quickly, trying to keep her tone casual. Don’t say anything, Jen. Don’t say anything. Don’t sayー She met her friend’s gaze and silently begged her to keep her mouth shut. Her eyes were wide, pleading. She shook her head ever so slightly, but Jen’s grin only widened.

“Hey!” Jen replied, her eyes lighting up with mischief. She gestured toward Agatha with a teasing smirk. “Aren’t you going to introduce us officially?”  

Agatha stepped forward with a polite smile. “Agatha. Nice to meet you.”  

Jen shook her hand, her grin widening. “I’m Jen. Nice to finally meet you.”  

Rio shot Jen a warning look. “Jen, don’t.”  

“What?” Jen asked innocently, stepping aside to let them pass. “I was just going to say I’ve heard all about you. Big fan.”  

Rio groaned. “Goodnight, Jen.”  

Jen just laughed, waving them off as she continued up the stairs.  

Once they were outside, Agatha glanced at Rio, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. “She’s heard all about me, huh?”  

“Don’t ask,” Rio muttered, pulling her jacket tighter.  

Agatha chuckled, slipping her arm through Rio’s as they walked. “I think I like her.”  

“Of course you do,” Rio muttered, though the small smile on her face betrayed her.

Agatha led her to a nearby restaurant, one Rio had passed by a few times but since it didn’t have a menu posted outside, she’d never ventured in.

“Hang on. Might have to change plans, I think they’re closed?” Rio questioned, pointing to the sign on the door.

Closed for Private Event  

Agatha shook her head fondly, “Yes, I can read.” She opened the door and led Rio inside.

Rio glanced around the empty restaurant, her boots clicking softly against the polished floor as Agatha led her to a corner booth. The space was intimate, lit by soft amber sconces and a single candle flickering on their table. It felt more like they were intruding after hours than invited, but the way Agatha moved—calm and assured—suggested otherwise.  

“Uh, are we supposed to be here?” Rio asked, sliding into the booth across from her.  

Agatha smiled, removing her coat and draping it neatly over the seat. “Don’t worry, it’s all arranged. I rented the place for the evening.”  

Rio blinked. “You… rented the whole place? For dinner?”  

“You gave me the idea, actually,” Agatha said with a smirk. “When you ordered the entire room service breakfast menu. I figured I’d return the favor but on a slightly different scale.”  

Rio laughed despite herself, leaning back into the booth. “This isn’t the same.”  

“Isn’t it?” Agatha teased, raising an eyebrow.  

Before Rio could respond, a man in a crisp chef’s coat approached their table. His gray-streaked hair was pulled back neatly, and he carried himself with the quiet authority of someone who knew his craft better than anyone else.  

“Ms. Agatha,” he greeted warmly, extending a hand.  

“Chef Claus,” Agatha replied, shaking his hand with a firm grip. “Thank you for accommodating us tonight.”  

“It’s my pleasure,” Claus said, his accent faintly French. His gaze flicked briefly to Rio, curious but polite. “Your guest, I presume?”  

Agatha nodded. “Claus, this is Rio.”  

Rio offered a small wave. “Uh, hey.”  

Claus gave a brief, approving nod. “Welcome. I hope you’ll enjoy what we’ve prepared.” He turned back to Agatha. “I’ll have the first course brought out shortly.”  

“Perfect,” Agatha said with a smile.  

As Claus disappeared into the kitchen, Rio leaned forward, lowering her voice. “Okay, how do you know him ? Because I’ve for sure seen him on The Food Network.”  

Agatha shrugged lightly, picking up her napkin. “We’ve crossed paths over the years. He’s a brilliant chef and was kind enough to help me tonight.”  

Rio’s eyebrows shot up. “You just… asked him to clear his whole schedule for you?”  

“It wasn’t that simple,” Agatha said with a small laugh. “But yes, essentially.”  

Before Rio could process that, the first course arrived: a delicate amuse-bouche of smoked salmon mousse on a crisp wafer, topped with a sprinkle of dill.  

Rio took a bite, and her eyes widened. “Okay, this is insane.”  

Agatha grinned, sipping from her glass of crisp white wine. “And we’re just getting started.”  

The meal unfolded like a symphony. A velvety butternut squash soup with spiced pumpkin seeds was paired with a lightly oaked Chardonnay. Then came seared scallops on a bed of risotto, followed by a palate-cleansing sorbet with hints of lemon and thyme.  

Rio found herself enchanted with each dish, savoring the expertly paired wines and the way Agatha seemed to know exactly how to pace their conversation, keeping it light and engaging between courses. They fondly recalled the wedding and Rio asked more about Agatha’s friends. It turned out that Melissa had been texting Agatha nonstop and would be in town for work next month.

“I’m getting dinner with her, I’m sure she’d be delighted if you came.” Agatha offered. 

Rio nodded, “sure she was fun! We’ll probably have to throw Jen a bone at some point too. In a roundabout way I kind of owe her for us meeting.”

Agatha hummed thoughtfully and tapped her fingers against her chin. “Yes, we’ll have to do something about that at some point.”

But as the night wore on, Rio couldn’t shake a certain unease. Agatha seemed different tonight—polished, poised, and effortlessly charming, but also… distant. It wasn’t the relaxed, laughing woman from the wedding or the Agatha from a few hours before who teased her about her broken watch.  

She was still wonderful, but it felt like watching someone perform a role they knew by heart.  

As the final course—a decadent dark chocolate tart—was set before them, Rio finally voiced what she’d been turning over in her mind.  

“This is… amazing,” she began, gesturing to the table. “Seriously. I’ve never been somewhere like this. But I feel like I’m seeing the… public side of you tonight. Like I’m on a date with your ‘hosting a royal gala’ persona.”  

Agatha tilted her head, her smile faint but present. “I suppose I do tend to fall into old habits… I’m used to orchestrating things like this. Big gestures.”  

Rio hesitated. “It’s just—well, I really liked the woman who jumped into the ocean to save me. And the one who told me embarrassing college stories while we were barefoot on a beach. The one who snorted laughing at her friend’s stupid jokes.”  

Agatha’s smile softened. “You like the messy version of me, then?”  

“Yeah, I do,” Rio said earnestly. “Don’t get me wrong, this is incredible . But I’m here for all of it. Even the parts that aren’t perfectly plated,” she teased.

Agatha reached across the table, her fingers brushing Rio’s. “Noted. I’ll try to keep the Michelin-star dinners to a minimum.”  

Rio laughed. “No, don’t do that. We don’t need to be hasty. Just… maybe let me see what happens when you don’t plan every detail next time?”  

Agatha squeezed her hand, her eyes warm. “Deal.”  

“That settles it then. Next date, I plan.” Rio said with a mischievous grin.

“Wow! Look who’s on time, must be nice having a watch that works,” Agatha teased as she opened her door, “give me just a second to grab my keys.”

Rio laughed at the jab and leaned against the door. “Just your house keys. Don’t need your car keys.”

Agatha pulled on her coat with a perplexed look. “I assumed I’d be driving. You’re not here to whisk me away on the handlebars of your bicycle are you?” She asked, peering around Rio at the stoop as if she wouldn’t put it past her.

Rio gave her a smug grin, tucking her hands into her jacket pockets. “Nope. Better.”

Agatha folded her arms, “You’re worrying me.”

“We’re taking the L.”

Agatha blinked, her expression flattening as she shook her head. “I am absolutely not.”

Rio cocked her head, feigning surprise. “You’re too good for public transit?”

“No,” Agatha replied with an exaggerated air of patience, smoothing the lapel of her coat. “But if I have other options available, I can think of at least three, why would I want to?”

“You have three cars?”

No. My car, Ralph, Uber Black. Make that four, I’d put a cab over the L.” 

Rio rolled her eyes dramatically, tugging her leather jacket tighter against the cold. “You’re something else. Come on, Agatha. It’s an experience. It’s a rite of passage.”

Agatha raised a skeptical brow, her lips quirking into a small smirk. “Rite of passage? What’s next, getting a hot dog from a street vendor and eating it in a park during a snowstorm?”

Rio grinned wider, stepping closer and pulling the door shut behind her. “Now you’re getting it. But seriously, trust me. It’ll be fun.” Her dark eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned in, her voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “Unless you’re scared.”

Agatha scoffed, clearly unimpressed by the bait. “Of public transportation? Hardly. Of freezing to death while waiting for it? A bit more likely.”

Rio chuckled, reaching out to tug gently on Agatha’s scarf and pull her into a quick kiss. “Relax, your royal highness. I’ve got it all planned. Besides, you’ve got that fancy coat—shouldn’t you be perfectly insulated? Come on, I’ll even buy your fare. How’s that for chivalry?”

Agatha sighed theatrically but took Rio’s hand, her gloved fingers curling into Rio’s palm. “Fine, but only because you’re cute.”

Rio’s cheeks flushed pink, though she kept her tone light as they descended the steps. “And because I’m incredibly charming.”

“Debatable,” Agatha replied airily, though her faint smile betrayed her.

To give her credit, Agatha didn’t complain further about their silver carriage commute, though she maintained a mild skepticism as Rio led her through the chilly evening streets of downtown Chicago. Nevertheless, Rio caught her smiling as The Art Institute came into view, its iconic bronze lions standing watch over the entrance.  

“I haven’t been here in ages,” Agatha said, a note of surprise softening her voice.  

Rio smirked, producing a pair of tickets from her pocket. “For the record, I thought this was better than the hot dog-in-a-park idea.”  

Agatha’s laugh was warm, her earlier reluctance melting away. “Well done, you.”  

Once inside, the hushed atmosphere of the museum enveloped them, the quiet punctuated by the soft echo of footsteps on the polished floors. Agatha instinctively looped her arm through Rio’s as they strolled past galleries of art spanning centuries.  

As they reached the Impressionist wing, Agatha paused in front of a painting, her gaze tracing the serene strokes of Monet’s Water Lilies . “Let me guess,” she said, glancing sideways at Rio. “You saw Ferris Bueller’s Day Off as a kid, didn’t you? The museum scenes made quite an… impression?”  

Rio’s lips quirked into a sheepish grin. “Guilty as charged. But in my defense, I’ve always had a thing for hard-to-get girls with amazing hair.”  

Agatha turned to her with an amused arch of her brow. “Amazing hair?”  

Rio nodded solemnly, her grin widening. “Uncontrollable, wild. Drives me crazy.”  

Agatha leaned in, her voice soft and teasing. “Oh? And do you have a thing for women with expensive taste and a penchant for the dramatic, too?”  

Rio laughed, low and warm. “Absolutely.”  

They kissed, surrounded by the muted glow of the gallery lighting. It was slow, deliberate, a rare moment of intimacy in such a public space.  

A throat cleared behind them.  

Agatha pulled back, startled, her hand still on Rio’s arm. Her eyes widened as she registered the familiar figure standing a few feet away.  

“Well, well,” the woman said, her tone sharp enough to cut through the stillness of the gallery. “Imagine my surprise, running into you here, Agatha.”  

Agatha straightened, her expression cooling into a mask of polite indifference. “Ashley.”  

Rio stepped closer to Agatha, her presence steady.  

Ashley’s gaze flicked briefly to Rio before settling back on Agatha. “It’s been a while. I see you’re still keeping busy.” 

Agatha’s jaw tightened, but her voice was calm. “I could say the same for you. What brings you to the museum? I didn’t realize you left your house unless it was a chance for a photo op.”  

Ashley smiled thinly, her eyes glinting with something sharp. “Cute. I have a reception here later. But I thought I’d take a few quiet moments to reconnect with the classics. A bit like seeing old friends, wouldn’t you agree?”  

Rio bristled at the pointed comment, but Agatha gave her a small, almost imperceptible shake of her head.  

“Enjoy reconnecting, then,” Agatha said curtly. “We’re finished here. With this wing.”  

As they walked away, Ashley’s gaze lingered, the tension in the air following them like an unwelcome guest.  Rio pulled Agatha closer to her side chewing at the inside of her cheek.

Agatha sighed softly, her fingers brushing over the back of Rio’s hand in a reassuring gesture as they wandered into the next gallery.

“Rio,” Agatha called gently, tilting her head to catch Rio’s eyes. “She’s not worth it.”  

Rio shook her head, biting at her lip for a moment. “I don’t like the way she talks to you. Like she’s better. She isn’t.” Her voice was low, clipped.  

“She’s not better,” she said lightly. “That’s just the sad part—she thinks she is. But you know better. So do I. She’s not worth it”  

Rio stopped in front of a small painting of a ship lost in a stormy sea. “I still don’t get it. She cheated on you, was fucking embezzling funds, and somehow you ended up taking the blame? And now she still gets to waltz in and act like she’s doing you a favor by even saying hello?”  

Agatha shook her head, bemused. “It’s not as complicated as you think. She’s just the kind of person who can’t stand not having the upper hand. It’s why I just walked away. That’s how I won , Rio.”  

Rio let out a sharp breath, her dark eyes flicking back to meet Agatha’s. “She owes you,” she muttered. “She knows she does. And she still treats you like garbage.”  

Agatha laughed softly, though her gaze held Rio’s with a steadiness that calmed the storm brewing behind her expression. “She’s bitter. And I’m sure she hates that I’m happy.” She tilted her head, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “Really, she’s given me the perfect excuse to remind myself how lucky I am to have upgraded.”  

Rio’s tension cracked, a reluctant chuckle escaping her. “You’re too good at spinning things.”  

Agatha leaned in, her voice dropping to a warm murmur. “It’s not spinning when it’s the truth.”  

Rio softened, her thumb brushing over Agatha’s knuckles. “She doesn’t deserve to have even a second of your time.”  

“She doesn’t,” Agatha agreed, squeezing Rio’s hand. “But you do. So, come on—there’s a Degas in the next gallery I’ve been dying to see. Let’s not let her ruin the date, hm?”  

Rio nodded, letting Agatha tug her along.

They shook off the encounter and worked their way through the rest of the museum. 

The restaurant Rio picked for dinner was tucked away on a quiet street, its neon sign casting a warm, flickering glow onto the sidewalk. Inside, the place was bustling but cozy, with mismatched chairs and tables crammed together under string lights that gave the space a casual charm. Agatha raised an eyebrow as Rio held the door open for her.

"Very rustic," Agatha teased, glancing around at the lively crowd and worn wooden decor. 

Rio grinned. "Don’t let the looks fool you. They make the best pizza in the city. I know everyone says that about their favorite place. But trust me.”

As they settled into a booth near the window, Agatha shrugged out of her coat and rested her chin in her hand, smirking. “You know, it’s starting to feel unfair. We keep running into my annoying ex, but where are yours? I feel like I’m being deprived of a real bonding experience here.”

Rio snorted as she flagged down a server. “You’d know if you had. I’d probably have a drink dumped on me.”

Agatha leaned back, her smirk deepening. “So you were a lousy boyfriend?”

Rio laughed loudly. “I mean… not always,” she said, brushing her hair out of her face with a sheepish shrug. “But I haven’t been the best partner in the past.”

Agatha tilted her head, curiosity glinting in her eyes. “Oh? Tell me more. Or is this where you pull the ‘it’s ancient history’ card?”

Rio leaned on the table, her gaze flickering to the server as they dropped off two beers. She took a sip of her drink, then set it down carefully. “My last long-term relationship ended when I left school. Wasn’t on good terms, though.”

“What happened?”

Rio shrugged, trying to play it casual, though her eyes darted briefly to the window. “Oh you know. The usual, we wanted different things. Or maybe I just didn’t know how to give her what she needed because I was caught up with myself. Either way, it didn’t end well. I left, and… that was that.”

Agatha hummed thoughtfully, her gaze never leaving Rio’s face. “You don’t give yourself enough credit, you know.”

Rio raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You’ve known me for what, a few months? You think you’ve got me all figured out?”

“Pretty much,” Agatha said breezily, “and what I see is someone who cares a lot more than they let on. Probably too much, if I had to guess.”

“Well. I’ve worked on myself a lot since. Back then, there was a lot… happening at once.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Rio glanced up, a small, self-conscious smile twitching at the corner of her lips. She sighed, setting her beer down, and folded her arms on the table. “It’s not exactly dinner-date material…”

Agatha tilted her head slightly but didn’t press, waiting for Rio to continue.

“My parents passed away,” Rio said quietly, her voice steady but soft. “It was… sudden. They were on their first-ever overseas trip. Big milestone for them, you know? They’d always talked about traveling once they retired, and they finally decided to just do it. I should’ve been happy for them.”

Agatha frowned, her brows knitting together. “What happened?”

“They were on a bus tour,” Rio said, swallowing hard. “There was an accident. Driver lost control, went off the road.”

Agatha’s breath caught, her hand instinctively reaching across the table to rest on Rio’s forearm. “Rio…”

“It’s fine,” Rio said quickly, though her voice wavered. “I mean, it’s not fine, but it’s been a while now. I just…” She hesitated, her fingers curling into a fist. “I wasn’t on good terms with them when it happened. We’d fought before they left. Stupid stuff—them worrying I wasn’t taking life seriously enough. I said some things I regret. And then they were gone. Just like that.”

Agatha squeezed her arm gently, her usual sharp wit softened by genuine concern. “That’s a lot to carry.”

Rio nodded, her gaze distant. “I didn’t handle it well. I didn’t handle anything well back then. I was a mess. Drinking too much, skipping classes, shutting people out. Amber—my girlfriend at the time—she tried to help. Gave me this big ultimatum to get it together or lose her.”

Agatha’s brow furrowed. “And?”

Rio let out a bitter laugh. “I gave up. Told her it’d be easier if she just left. And she did. Can’t really blame her.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the sounds of the bustling restaurant fading into the background. Agatha traced a slow circle on the rim of her beer, her gaze fixed on Rio.

“You’ve been through a lot,” Agatha said softly. “And maybe you weren’t perfect, but you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’re here now. You’re showing up.”

Rio smiled faintly, her eyes meeting Agatha’s. “I’m trying.”

“Well,” Agatha said, her teasing tone returning just enough to lighten the mood, “you’re doing a pretty damn good job of it. This is pretty damn good pizza.”

Rio chuckled, the tension easing from her shoulders as she leaned back in her seat. “Told you so. It’s the best”

“I’m glad you’ve caught on,” Agatha said with a smirk, raising her beer. “Because I don’t settle for less than the best.”

Rio’s smile widened as she raised her own bottle to meet Agatha’s.

The chill of the night clung to them as they stood outside Agatha’s door, their breath visible in the frosty air. Agatha fumbled with her keys, the silence stretching between them not awkward, but charged with something neither was quite ready to name.

Agatha finally huffed, her gloved hands pausing mid-turn. “Alright, this is ridiculous. It’s freezing. Do you want to come in for a nightcap, or what?”

Rio leaned casually against the iron railing, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets, a teasing glint in her eyes. “A nightcap, huh? Sounds tempting, but I’m pretty sure we agreed on rules. Rules around escalating ?”

Agatha turned, her lips curving into a coy smile, her tone playfully exaggerated. “Oh, please. I’m a lady , Rio. I would never put out before at least the third date.”

Rio snorted, her laugh warm and genuine. “Yeah? That so?” 

“Absolutely.” Agatha flipped her hair over her shoulder dramatically as if to emphasize her virtue. “I have standards, thank you very much.”

“Well, in that case,” Rio said, her voice trailing with mock seriousness as she straightened up, “I guess one drink wouldn’t hurt.”

Agatha rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop the small grin tugging at the corners of her lips as she opened the door. “Come on, then, before you come down with pneumonia again.”

The warm glow of the entryway lights greeted them as they stepped inside, Agatha shrugging off her coat and hanging it neatly by the door. Rio followed suit.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Agatha said, heading toward the kitchen. “I’ll get the drinks.”

Rio nodded, wandering to the plush couch and running her fingers along the soft fabric. “Got anything specific in mind, or is this one of those ‘whatever’s open’ kind of nightcaps?”

“Please,” Agatha called back, her voice dripping with mock offense. “Do I seem like the kind of person who just has ‘whatever’ open? I’ve got options, always.”

Rio grinned, sinking into the couch and kicking off her boots. “Of course, you do.”

A moment later, Agatha reappeared with two glasses of amber liquid, handing one to Rio before settling onto the couch beside her. “Whiskey. Neat. Figured it was fitting.”

Rio raised her glass, the faintest smirk playing on her lips. “Fitting for what?”

“For a nightcap,” Agatha replied smoothly.

They clinked their glasses, the soft sound echoing in the quiet room. Rio sipped slowly, the warmth of the whiskey spreading through her as she leaned back, her gaze flicking to Agatha.

“So,” Rio began, swirling the whiskey in her glass, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement, “now that the date’s over, I have to ask: how’d I do? Out of five stars.”

Agatha arched a brow, clearly suppressing a grin. “You want me to rate the date? Bold of you.”

“I’m confident,” Rio shot back, leaning into the couch with a teasing smirk. “I think I nailed it.”

Agatha pretended to mull it over, tapping her chin as though she were deep in thought. “Alright, I’ll give you... four and a half stars.”

Rio gasped, clutching her chest theatrically. “Four and a half? What knocked me down from a perfect five?”

“Well,” Agatha said, her lips twitching with suppressed laughter, “we took the freezing L instead of my warm car. That’s a half-star deduction.”

Rio chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Just honest,” Agatha quipped, taking a sip of her whiskey.

Rio set her glass on the coffee table, turning slightly to face Agatha, her tone playful but her eyes warm. “Okay, Miss Honest, while we’re on the subject of milestones... what date are we talking for a solid make-out session? Third? Fifth?”

Agatha nearly choked on her whiskey, laughter spilling out of her as she set her own glass down. “Oh, so now you’re worried about policies? Very formal of you.”

“I like to know where I stand,” Rio teased, her grin widening. “I’m just trying to be a respectful date.”

“Respectful, huh?” Agatha’s eyes sparkled as she leaned in, closing the distance between them. Her voice dropped to a softer, more teasing tone. “Well, if you must know...”  

She didn’t finish the sentence. Instead, she tilted her head and kissed Rio, her hands finding their way to the collar of her shirt to pull her closer. The warmth of the moment was intoxicating, whiskey forgotten as Rio responded, her hands eagerly moving to Agatha’s hair.

When they finally broke apart, Agatha’s smirk had returned, though her cheeks were faintly flushed. “Did that answer your question?”  

Rio blinked, still a little dazed. “Uh I rate this... five stars. Definitely five stars.”

“Shut up.” Agatha murmured, pulling Rio in to kiss her again.

Chapter Text

Their kiss deepened, slow and purposeful, as though both were trying to savor every bit of the moment. Agatha’s fingers curled into the fabric of Rio’s shirt, drawing her closer, while Rio’s hands moved tentatively to Agatha’s waist, her grip tightening when Agatha sighed softly against her lips.  

Agatha’s kisses came with a searching intensity as if she were trying to uncover something hidden beneath the surface. Rio felt the question in them—an unspoken want—and wished desperately that Agatha would just ask outright, so she could give her whatever it was that she was looking for.  

The heat between them was magnetic, a force of gravity. Rio’s hand slid up to cup Agatha’s jaw, her thumb brushing gently over her cheek before pulling her closer still. Agatha responded with a low hum of approval, shifting so she was nearly in Rio’s lap, her fingers threading through Rio’s hair as if to anchor herself.  

Rio’s heart raced as she tried to keep up, her resolve slipping with every brush of Agatha’s lips, every press of her body against hers. The sofa suddenly felt far too small to contain the energy between them. It felt like back at the beach, so incredibly kinetic. Brimming with possibility, want, and danger. Kissing her felt effortless, but breaking away to draw a breath—a natural reflex she’d never given thought to—suddenly became an almost insurmountable task.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing heavily. As Agatha threw back her head to shove the hair from her eyes, Rio noticed her lips were slightly swollen. Her eyes were normally so clear, but they were darker tonight.

Rio let out a shaky laugh, her voice husky. “Okay... I have to leave right now. Like, right now.”  

Agatha tilted her head, her lips quirking into a lazy smile. “Why’s that?”  

“Because,” Rio said, her eyes dipping to Agatha’s lips and then back up, “if I stay here any longer, I’m going to break all of our rules. And I’m trying to be the respectful date, remember?” 

Agatha hummed thoughtfully, her fingers still toying with the collar of Rio’s shirt. For a moment, she looked like she might challenge Rio’s resolve, her gaze slipping to her lips again. But then she leaned in one last time, her kiss soft and deliberate, her way of conceding without words.  

When she pulled back, Agatha gave Rio a wry smile. “Fine. You win this round.”  

Rio grinned, standing and grabbing her coat, though her hands shook slightly as she shrugged it on. “Don’t think I’m not counting down to the third date, though.”  

Agatha chuckled, walking her to the door. “Good. I like a little anticipation.”  

The steady din of clinking glasses and laughter filled the air as Rio maneuvered through the narrow aisles of the crowded bar. The brunch crowd was in full swing, every table packed with women in athleisure sipping bottomless mimosas like their lives depended on it. The smell of syrup and spilled prosecco clung to the air, and the sound of high-pitched cackles grated against her nerves.

Rio despised brunch shifts.

"Excuse me! Miss! Hello!" A woman in oversized sunglasses waved dramatically from the bar, her other hand clutching her phone. Rio plastered on her best polite smile and approached.

"Yes?" she asked, her voice clipped but neutral.

“Can I get another round for the table? And maybe, like, a plate of fries? The truffle kind, not the regular ones.”

Rio nodded and made a mental note, even as the woman barely glanced at her before returning to whatever influencer drama she was scrolling through. It was always like this—constant demands and not a shred of acknowledgment.

The shift dragged on, punctuated by moments of peak irritation. Namely, when one woman gestured wildly, knocking her drink directly into Rio’s side as she passed with a tray of orders.

“Oh my God! Sorry, I’m so clumsy” the woman said, her tone so insincere it made Rio’s jaw clench. She hurried past to grab a rag, ignoring the champagne soaking into her shirt.

The hours crawled, and by the time the bar’s brunch service finally wound down, Rio was ready to throw in the towel—literally. She leaned against the back counter, rubbing a hand over her face and exhaling a long breath.

“Rough shift?” one of the cooks asked, glancing over as he loaded the dish bin.

Rio shot him a weary look. “You ever feel like you’re invisible, but only when it’s convenient for people?”

The cook chuckled and shook his head. “Every day, kid. Every damn day.”

She peeled off her stained shirt, tossing it into the bar’s laundry bin. Her spare wasn’t much better, but at least it was dry. As she grabbed her bag and headed for the door, her phone buzzed in her pocket.

Still on for tonight?

Rio stopped in the alley behind the bar, letting the cool air wash over her. She read the text again, her lips pulling into a faint smile despite herself. But the smile quickly faded as the weight of the day crept back in.

Things had been so easy with Agatha lately—fun, lighthearted, still protected by the newness and novelty of it all. The last thing Rio wanted was to show up in a foul mood and ruin the streak they were on.

Her fingers hovered over her phone, considering a polite excuse to reschedule.

Hey. Hate to ask, but can we raincheck?

Agatha’s reply came in two rapid texts:

What’s wrong?
Are you alright?

Rio smiled softly and immediately responded, It’s nothing serious. Just a really shitty shift. I think I just need to rot on the couch tonight.

Understood. I’m sorry.

She watched the dots appear and disappear on her screen as Agatha continued her response. She hoped she wasn’t too annoyed, the short reply made it hard to tell. Rio knew Agatha’s concern was genuine, but she also knew that she didn’t adapt well to deviations from her carefully kept schedule.

After a minute Agatha responded further:

Not for nothing, but my sofa is well suited for wallowing. I have a bottle of wine open and last night’s Survivor recorded. No pressure, but I’ll leave a key under the mat in case.

Rio smiled and sent a thumbs-up emoji before heading home to change.

Rio pulled up to Agatha’s house just after seven, still feeling the weight of her day but a little less tense than she had earlier. The prospect of hearing Agatha’s dry wit cutting through reality TV nonsense sounded exactly like what she needed.

The door opened before Rio could even reach for the key under the mat. Agatha stood in the doorway, her hair loosely pinned up, a pair of reading glasses perched on her nose. She wore a soft-looking cardigan over a tank top and sweats, her casual attire catching Rio a little off-guard.

“Come on in,” Agatha said with a small smile, stepping aside. “You’re letting in the cold.”

Rio chuckled softly and entered, the warmth of the house immediately wrapping around her.

“Wine’s on the coffee table. Help yourself,” Agatha added, already heading back to the couch where her laptop rested.

Rio toed off her boots and followed, pausing to pour herself a generous glass of wine before settling on the opposite end of the sofa. Agatha didn’t push her to talk or ask about her day, instead keeping her attention on the TV as contestants argued over alliances. Her commentary came sharp and steady:

“Oh, come on, you’re going to trust him? He literally voted against you last tribal council. Are you stupid or just hoping for a redemption arc?”

Rio smirked and sipped her wine, feeling herself start to relax. “You sound invested.”

“I’m invested in the comedy of bad decisions,” Agatha replied, still typing something on her laptop. “It’s not every day you see someone sabotage their own game this thoroughly. Amateurs.”

A silence settled for a moment before Rio spoke again. “You know, it might almost be worth embarrassing myself on national television if it meant a million bucks and an escape from my job.”

Agatha finally looked over at her, arching an eyebrow. “Oh, really? Think you could hack it out there with the mosquitoes and the dehydration?”

“It’d be the abundance of swimming that got to me,” Rio admitted, laughing. “But I’d go out swinging.”

“Or by helicopter,” Agatha teased.

Rio grinned, leaning back onto the couch. “Well, if I won, I’d make sure to leave a heavy tip for whoever cleaned up the champagne I spilled during the tell-all reunion. Unlike today’s crowd. Why are pilates moms so fucking stingy?”

Agatha’s lips quirked up in a smirk, and she glanced up from her laptop briefly. “That bad, huh?”

“Imagine serving ten tables filled with people flaunting all your worst qualities,” Rio said with a playful grin, “without any of your redeeming ones.”

Agatha pretended to be scandalized, placing a hand on her chest. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Rio shot back, laughing.

They fell into an easy rhythm, the TV providing background noise as the wine disappeared between them.

“So,” Agatha said, setting her empty glass aside and tucking her legs beneath her as she repositioned the computer on her lap. “If Survivor isn’t your ticket to riches, what’s the plan?”

Rio shrugged, her hand idly tracing the rim of her glass. “Haven’t figured that out yet. Something less soul-crushing would be nice.”

“Well,” Agatha said idly, “you’ve got what, a semester left of school? Go do that.” She furrowed her brow at something on her screen, giving only half her attention to their conversation.

Rio scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Yeah okay.”

Agatha gave her a sharp look over the rim of her glasses, “What? I’m serious.”

“Well, I’m not. I’m just venting.”

“Venting or whining?”

Rio’s expression curled and she stiffened slightly. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Agatha sighed, closing her laptop with an audible snap and setting it aside. The sound made Rio bristle. “It means you’re better than this, Rio. You’ve got a degree in journalism almost finished, and instead of getting it done, you’re stuck serving mimosas to people who don’t even say thank you. If you hate it so much, then change it.”

Rio leaned back against the couch, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. “Oh, it’s just that easy, huh? I just waltz back into school like nothing happened, like I didn’t drop out mid-semester after my life went to hell. They’d welcome me back with open arms, no questions asked. Sure.”

“It is that easy,” Agatha pressed, her tone firm. “You reapply, get back into the program, and finish what you started. A semester, Rio. That’s all it would take to get your degree. I don’t see what the big deal is.”

“You make it sound like I can just snap my fingers and fix everything,” Rio snapped back, her voice rising. “What about the fact that I can barely make rent as it is? I’d have to cut my hours down to go back, pay for classes, textbooks, everything. Do you think schools just hand out degrees for free?”

Agatha waved a dismissive hand, her tone flippant. “If cost is the issue, I’ll cover it. That’s not a problem.”

Rio froze, her jaw tightening. “Excuse me?”

Agatha blinked, confused by the sudden shift in Rio’s tone. “I’m just saying, if money’s the barrier, I can handle it. There’s no reason for you to keep punishing yourself when I can help.”

“I don’t need your help,” Rio said sharply, her voice laced with a bitterness that surprised even herself.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Agatha countered. “You’re making this harder on yourself. Why? Out of pride?”

“Because I’m not some charity case!” Rio shot back, standing abruptly. “You don’t get it, Agatha. You’re at a point where you can just throw money at problems until they go away, but not everyone gets to live like that.”

Agatha stood too, her eyes narrowing. “That’s not fair, and you know it. I’m trying to help because I care about you. Why is that so wrong?”

“Because I don’t want to owe you,” Rio said, her voice cracking slightly. She raked a hand through her hair, pacing the room. “I don’t want to feel like I’m only worth something because you decided to fix me. You think I’ve never tried to claw my way out of this mess? Every time I start to, something else drags me back down. And yeah, maybe I don’t have all the answers right now, but I’m figuring it out.”

“Figuring it out?” Agatha repeated, incredulous. “You just admitted you don’t have a plan. How long are you going to keep spinning your wheels like this?”

“As long as it takes!” Rio shouted, turning to face her. “Because it’s my life, Agatha. I don’t need you swooping in to save me like some goddamn knight in shining armor. I don’t need you paying my bills and dressing me up so that you can bear to be seen in public with me. I’ve been on my own since even before I was actually alone—I’ve only ever had myself to rely on. You don’t know what that’s like.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and sharp. Agatha looked stunned for a moment, her lips parting as if to speak but no words coming out. She finally exhaled, her shoulders dropping slightly as she crossed her arms. “You’re partly right,” she said quietly. “I don’t know what your situation is like. But I do know what it feels like to be fighting a lot of battles yourself. Maybe if you let someone in, just once, you wouldn’t have to do it alone.”

Rio didn’t soften, “That’s rich coming from you. Maybe you’d have an easier time if you weren’t constantly juggling a hundred different versions of yourself and you were just honest with people.”

Agatha’s face turned hard, her cheeks flushing. “What do you mean by that?”

“What do I mean by that?” Rio said, her voice rising again. “I mean you act like you’ve got it all together, but you’re just as much of a mess as I am. The difference is you’re better at hiding it. You’ve got this big house, your fancy job, and your take-charge attitude, but let’s not pretend you’re actually happy. You keep everyone at arm’s length, Agatha. You swoop in with your wallet and your quick fixes and your stupid charming words because it’s easier than actually being vulnerable.”

Agatha took a step forward, her arms still crossed but her voice like ice. “Careful, Rio. You’re treading into territory you don’t understand.”

“Oh, I think I understand just fine,” Rio snapped. “You’re not doing this for me—you’re doing this to feel better about yourself. So you can tell yourself you’re generous, that you’re helping. But you don’t actually care what I want or need, because it’s not about me. It’s about control. You can’t stand the idea of someone not needing you.”

And then, Rio in her haste said the only thing she wouldn’t be able to take back. “Is that why you still give your ex the time of day? Because you crave the attention even if it’s just in the form of some fucked up power game?”

She instantly regretted it. Agatha’s frustration quickly turned to hurt as she took a half step back.

“That wasn’t okay,” Agatha said, her voice eerily calm.

Rio blinked back frustrated tears and shook her head, “No it wasn’t.”

Agatha’s glare deepened, but her voice stayed cold and measured. “Do not go there again.”

“I'm sorry, Agatha—“ she began to apologize but was stopped as Agatha interrupted. 

 “For the record, I do care about you. But I’m not going to stand here and be attacked because you can’t handle the idea of someone giving a damn about you.”

“Giving a damn doesn’t mean steamrolling me,” Rio shot back, her temper rushing hot again. “You can’t just throw money at my problems and expect me to roll over and thank you for it. That’s not how this works. I’ve had to fight for everything I’ve got, and yeah, maybe it’s not much, but I earned it and it’s mine. I don’t want to be someone’s project. I’m not broken, Agatha.”

“No,” Agatha said, her voice sharper now, a vein in her forehead rising to the surface. “But you are stubborn. Stubborn to the point of self-sabotage. You’re so determined to prove you can do it alone that you’d rather suffer than let someone help you. That’s not strength, Rio. That’s pride, and believe me, because I know, it’s going to cost you.”

Rio’s eyes burned, but she refused to look away. “Maybe it will. But at least I’ll know it was on my terms.”

Agatha took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “You’re right. You don’t owe me anything. But don’t you dare twist this into some kind of power play. I offered to help because I care about you. Not because I think you’re incapable, and definitely not because I want to control you.”

Rio finally broke eye contact, her jaw tight as she stared at the floor. Her hands balled into fists at her sides, the anger in her chest warring with the guilt creeping in around the edges.

Agatha let out a frustrated sigh. “You want to do it on your own? Fine. But don’t punish me for trying to be there for you. That’s not fair.”

Rio’s voice softened, barely above a whisper. “You can’t just say shit like that.”

“Like what Rio? That you’re worth it? That you’re so incredibly strong and resilient and brave when you shouldn’t have had to be? Can I say that I think you deserve the world? Am I wrong for wanting to give you everything I have?” Her words came tumbling out one thought rolling into the next as she closed the distance between them.

Agatha placed her hand on Rio’s cheek, drawing her eyes up to meet hers. “Listen to me. None of what has happened to you is your fault. But if you don’t do anything about it, if you don’t let people who love you help you, whatever happens next is .”

Rio met Agatha’s gaze, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. For a moment, neither of them spoke, the room thick with the weight of hurt and lingering anger. Agatha’s hand stayed on Rio’s cheek, light but grounding as if she were afraid one wrong move would send Rio bolting.

“People who love me?” Rio said, her voice barely audible. There was a rawness to it, a vulnerability that cut through the layers of her frustration. “You…you don’t mean that.”

Agatha’s brow furrowed, her thumb tracing Rio’s jaw as her lips parted, searching for the right words. “Of course I mean it. Do you think I’d be standing here, fighting with you, if I didn’t? I wouldn’t waste my time or yours.”

Rio shook her head, a bitter laugh escaping her. “You don’t love me, Agatha. You’re just saying that because you don’t know what else to say.”

“Don’t tell me how I feel,” Agatha shot back, her voice firm but steady. “You don’t get to decide that for me. You know I… care deeply about you.” She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I don’t want to fix you, Rio. I don’t think you’re broken. But I do think you’re worth fighting for. And if that’s a problem for you, then maybe you need to figure out why.”

Rio swallowed hard, her throat tight. “I don’t know how to let people fight for me. I’ve never…” Her voice cracked, and she looked away, blinking rapidly. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

“You’re not,” Agatha said immediately, her voice filled with conviction. “You’re a lot of things, Rio. Stubborn, infuriating, maybe even a little reckless. But you’re not a burden. Not to me.”

The words hung in the air, a fragile thread between them. Rio glanced down at Agatha’s hand on her shoulder, then back up at her face. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s not,” Agatha admitted, her voice softening.

For the first time that night, Rio’s shoulders began to relax, just slightly. She didn’t respond right away, but the fight in her posture ebbed, replaced by something quieter, something more unsure.

Agatha didn’t press her. She simply let her hand fall, stepping back to give Rio the space she seemed to need. “You don’t have to figure it all out tonight,” she said gently. “But don’t shut me out, okay? Let me be here for you.”

Rio nodded slowly, her gaze dropping to the floor. “I’ll try,” she said, her voice almost too soft to hear. She rubbed the back of her neck, her cheeks flushed as the sting of her earlier outburst began to settle into guilt. 

“I, uh…” she started, her voice strained. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. That was... I was out of line.” Her hands fidgeted, fingers curling and uncurling. “I just—I don’t know how to handle…”

Agatha tilted her head, studying her quietly before offering a small, reassuring smile. “I’m not one to hold grudges, Rio.”

Rio snorted softly, lifting her eyes to meet Agatha’s. “You? Not holding grudges? You’re kidding, right? You told me we could never go back to that one breakfast place again because they stopped serving your favorite pumpkin pancakes, which I’ll remind you was a seasonal item.”

The familiarity of their habitual teasing softened the moment as Agatha laughed softly. “Okay, maybe I… hold onto things. But it’s different with you.”

“Different how?”

Agatha hesitated, searching for the right words. She leaned back slightly, her gaze steady on Rio. “A lot of things I thought were true about myself, about how I see the world—they don’t apply to you. You’re... an exception.”

Rio’s lips parted as if to respond, but nothing came out. Her heart hammered in her chest, caught between disbelief and something more vulnerable. “An exception,” she repeated quietly, her voice almost a whisper.

Agatha nodded, her expression open and unguarded in a way that made Rio’s pulse skip. “I can’t explain it, but... I don’t want to. I like how you make me feel. When I’m with you, it’s like part of myself is waking up again.”

The words settled between them like a slow-burning flame, their warmth spreading but never overwhelming. Rio let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, a small, almost shy smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” 

She was disarmed in a way she wasn’t used to. In a way that excited her and terrified her in equal measure. She leaned in slightly, her fingers brushing the edge of Agatha’s sleeve before retreating, unsure.

Agatha caught the motion and smiled softly. “Rio?”

“Yeah?” Rio’s voice was barely audible, her gaze locked on Agatha’s.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

The words were a quiet promise, and Rio couldn’t fight the pull any longer. She leaned in, slow and tentative, her breath mingling with Agatha’s as the distance between them disappeared. When their lips met, it wasn’t hurried or frantic—it was soft, searching, a conversation in its own right.

As the kiss deepened, the soft, tentative nature of it gave way to something warmer, something more tender than they had allowed themselves before. When they finally broke apart, neither moved far, their noses brushing slightly.

Rio’s voice was barely above a whisper. “You’re not going anywhere?”

Agatha leaned back slightly, meeting her gaze. “Not unless you tell me to.” Her tone was steady but calm, a contrast to the fire that still burned in her eyes. “But I need you to tell me what you want, Rio. That’s the new standard. I won’t try to guess what you want or decide what you need. You just tell me.”

Rio blinked, still caught in the moment. “That simple?”

Agatha gave her a small smile, a flicker of playfulness softening the seriousness of her expression. “It can be. If you tell me what you need, what you want... I’ll meet you there.”

The weight of the words hung between them. Rio hesitated, unsure how to respond, but Agatha didn’t let her linger. “For the record, I’m still going to treat you well,” she added with a hint of mischief. “I love buying you things and planning surprises. But I want you to know that none of it is about fixing you or asking you to be someone else. When I do those things, it’s because I want to. It’s because I’m thinking of you. And doing that makes me happy. And you want me to be happy right?” She smiled playfully as she reached to squeeze her hand.

Rio laughed softly, the sound shaking loose some of the tension she’d been holding. “Yeah, I do.”

They fell into silence again, but it wasn’t heavy. It was the kind of quiet that felt like a pause, like the moment before something inevitable.

Agatha’s smile turned more playful as she leaned in closer. “Let’s practice.”

“Practice?” Rio echoed, her brows furrowing in confusion.

“Yeah,” Agatha said, her voice light but coaxing. “Let’s start now. Tell me what you want, Rio. Right now.”

Rio opened her mouth to respond but faltered, the words catching in her throat, her face turning a shade darker. “I... I don’t know.”

Agatha gave her a rare patient look. “Take your time.”

The reassurance was enough to make Rio swallow her nerves. She glanced away, then back at Agatha, her voice quieter than usual. “Okay. Then... I want you to take me to bed.”

The admission hung in the air, bold and unsure all at once. Agatha’s eyes widened slightly before her lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. “That’s a very good start,” she said softly.

She held her hand out to Rio. “Come on, then.”

Rio hesitated for only a second before taking it, the warmth of Agatha’s touch grounding her as she let herself be led into the unknown, heart racing with anticipation.

Chapter Text

Agatha’s room was different than she had expected. Where the guest room had been spacious and meticulously organized, this space was smaller, cozier, and lived-in. The warm tones of the bedding and the soft throw draped over the arm of a worn chair made the room feel inviting. Rio’s eyes scanned the clutter—a few shirts and sweaters piled carelessly on the chair, a stack of books on the nightstand beside several coffee mugs, one still half-full. A faint smile tugged at her lips.

“All this time you’ve been teasing me about my living conditions, and it looks like you have a few science experiments going on up here,” Rio teased, gesturing toward the mugs.

Agatha laughed, the sound rich and easy. “I didn’t expect company.” She gave Rio a mock serious look. “Besides, it’s controlled chaos. I know exactly which mug is from today.”

Rio raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Sure you do.”

“Don’t make me defend my system,” Agatha said, nudging her shoulder as she crossed the room to tidy the chair. 

Rio moved to sit on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under her weight. She ran her hand over the soft quilt, noting the subtle details—a faint embroidered floral pattern that felt distinctly Agatha. The scent of her perfume lingered in the air everywhere here, grounding and unmistakable.

Agatha joined her, her movements a little slower as she perched beside Rio. They sat close, their shoulders almost brushing, but neither seemed ready to break the silence. The intimacy of the moment hummed between them, the quiet charged with a nervous energy that neither wanted to disturb.

Rio glanced at her hands, then at Agatha. Her breath hitched, her teasing grin faltering for just a moment. Agatha leaned back slightly, her expression softening as she let the moment settle.

“What do you want now?” Agatha asked quietly, her voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. 

Rio froze, the question hitting her square in the chest. Agatha didn’t rush her; she simply waited, her gaze patient and unwavering. Rio swallowed, her hands fidgeting in her lap before she met Agatha’s eyes again.

“I…” She hesitated, the weight of honesty catching in her throat. But Agatha’s presence, her quiet patience, gave her the courage to speak. “I want… to kiss you again.” 

Agatha’s lips curved into a gentle smile, her gaze soft but intent. “Then do it.” 

Rio’s hand moved almost on its own, brushing a strand of hair from Agatha’s face before she leaned in, closing the gap between them. This time, the kiss was slower, more deliberate, like the world outside the room had fallen away entirely. It wasn’t just the thrill of desire—it was something deeper, an unspoken understanding woven between them with every careful touch. 

Agatha’s hand lingered on Rio’s cheek, her thumb brushing lightly against her skin. “See? You’re pretty good at naming what you want.” 

Rio laughed softly. “I’m, uh, a little off my game. I didn’t expect that when we ended up here, it’d be like this.”

Agatha hummed lightly, curling a strand of Rio’s hair around her fingers. “This can be whatever you want it to be. You don’t need to over think it.”

Rio sighed and flopped back onto the bed looking up at the ceiling, her legs hanging off the side of the bed. Agatha mirrored her, leaning back and looking up as if Rio’s answer was written above her.

Her fingers brushed lightly over the edge of the quilt as she tried to untangle the mess of emotions swirling inside her. Her heart was still racing from the kiss, but guilt and uncertainty gnawed at the edges of her thoughts. She hadn’t imagined their first time together being like this—quiet and contemplative in the aftermath of a fight she wasn’t sure they’d fully put to rest. 

She’d dreamed of this moment countless times, picturing something fiery and passionate, their clothes scattered across the floor as they stumbled through the house in a frenzy. She’d imagined pulling Agatha into her arms, her touch eager and sure. But here they were, side by side on Agatha’s bed, and the weight of their earlier argument lingered like a shadow.

Rio glanced sideways at Agatha. She was quiet, her chest rising and falling evenly as she stared at the ceiling. It was sweet how quickly Agatha had diffused the tension between them. But the thought brought a pang of guilt. How many times had Agatha done this before—put her own feelings aside to soothe someone else? To smooth over an argument for the sake of keeping the peace? How many times had she filled off her rougher edges to make herself into what was expected of her?

She thought about the sharpness of her own words earlier, the sting of bringing up Agatha’s ex. She shouldn’t have gone there. Agatha had only been trying to show her that she cared, in her own way. And Rio had lashed out, too quick to defend herself, too proud to see it for what it was.

“I was kind of an asshole earlier,” Rio muttered, breaking the silence. Her voice was quiet, almost hesitant.

Agatha turned her head to look at her, a faint smile playing on her lips. “Kind of?” she teased lightly, but there was no malice in her tone.

Rio groaned, covering her face with one hand. “Okay, fine. I was a total asshole.”

Agatha laughed softly, the sound warm and forgiving. She nudged Rio’s shoulder with her own. “I’ve been called worse, you know.”

“Doesn’t make it okay,” Rio said, her voice softer now. She let her hand drop and turned her head to meet Agatha’s gaze. “You didn’t deserve that. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

Agatha studied her for a moment, her expression unreadable. Then she nodded, her smile softening. “I appreciate that,” she said simply. 

Rio hesitated, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of the quilt. “I just… you’re not some checklist I’m trying to live up to. I didn’t mean to make it seem like I thought you were pushing me to be something I’m not.”

“I know,” Agatha said, her voice steady. “And I’m sorry if I came on too strong. I just…” She trailed off, her gaze flicking away briefly before returning to Rio’s. “I like doing things for you. I like thinking about what makes you happy and finding little ways to show you. But if it ever feels like too much, just tell me, okay?”

Rio nodded, her throat tight with a mix of gratitude and something deeper, something she wasn’t ready to name yet. “Okay,” she said quietly. 

Agatha’s hand slipped into Rio’s, their fingers tangling together. The simple gesture sent a wave of warmth through Rio’s chest, grounding her in the moment. 

Agatha turned onto her side, propping her head up with one hand as she studied Rio. “So,” she said, her voice light but with an undercurrent of vulnerability. “Now what?”

Rio’s lips twitched into a small, uncertain smile. The question felt heavier now, more intimate. She thought for a moment, her gaze drifting over Agatha’s face—the way her hair spilled over her shoulder, the way her eyes held a quiet patience that made Rio feel like she could take her time.

“I want…” Rio began, her voice faltering slightly before she steadied herself. She turned fully onto her side to face Agatha, their knees brushing. “I don’t want to rush. I don’t want you to feel like you have to kiss it better right away.” 

Agatha’s smiled and nodded, from this close Rio could see the faint laugh lines at the corners of her eyes. “I can work with that,” she said, her thumb brushing lightly over Rio’s hand. 

Rio let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. For the first time that night, the knot of tension in her chest began to loosen. They didn’t need to figure everything out all at once.

“I have an idea,” Agatha murmured, before kissing her cheek and standing up.

Rio tilted her head, curious but wary. “What kind of idea?”

“The relaxing kind,” Agatha said. “Anyone who has had a really shitty day needs a bath.”

Rio laughed, pulling back slightly. “A bath? What, like a bubble bath? I don’t think that’s really my thing, Agatha.”

“Oh, please,” Agatha said, rolling her eyes but smiling. “You don’t even know what your thing is because you won’t sit still long enough to find out.”

Rio raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I can sit still.”

“Sure,” Agatha shot back, her voice laced with sarcasm. “For maybe two seconds before you start fidgeting.”

Rio opened her mouth to argue, but Agatha held up a finger, cutting her off. “Nope. You’re not talking your way out of this. You’ve been tense all night, even before our… disagreement, and it’s not healthy to just… keep it all bottled up.”

Rio sighed, clearly torn between resisting and giving in. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “It just feels weird.”

“What feels weird?” Agatha asked, leading her into the bathroom despite her protests. “Taking a little time to unwind? Letting yourself enjoy something without overthinking it?”

Rio gave her a look, but the faint smile tugging at her lips betrayed her. “You’re really not gonna let this go, are you?”

“Not a chance,” Agatha said, her grin widening. “Trust me, I’ve got this down to a science. You’ll feel like a brand-new person by the time I’m done.”

Rio let out a long breath, finally relenting. “Fine. But if I get all pruney and you don’t think I’m hot anymore一”

Agatha laughed, already reaching for the taps to fill the tub. “Yes, I often find naked women deeply unattractive,” she deadpanned

Rio watched as Agatha moved around the bathroom with practiced ease, adjusting the water temperature and adding a foam to the tub that released a warm, soothing scent. Despite her earlier hesitation, she found herself intrigued.

Agatha excused herself, softly pulling the door shut, and Rio eased herself into the tub.

The bathwater was warm and inviting, cradling Rio in a way that made her feel weightless. The faint scent of sandalwood and lavender filled the small room and the low light from a single candle danced on the walls, casting the room in soft, flickering shadows. Agatha had been meticulous, as if preparing the bath was an art form she’d perfected over time.

Rio let her head fall back against the lip of the tub, her damp hair sticking to her skin. The tension that had coiled tightly in her shoulders for days began to melt away, the water working its quiet magic. She could hear Agatha in the next room, her footsteps soft against the floor as she moved around. The faint clink of mugs and the shuffle of papers told Rio she was tidying up, always finding something to keep her hands busy. 

The quiet was almost too much—Agatha was right Rio wasn’t used to being still. Her mind fought the calm at first, flitting from thought to thought, but the warmth of the water coaxed her into letting go if only a little. 

After a few minutes, she glanced toward the open door, hesitant but wanting. “Agatha?” she called, her voice tentative, unsure if she’d disturb whatever rhythm Agatha had settled into.

The footsteps paused, and then Agatha appeared in the doorway, a partly folded shirt in her hands. Her expression was cautious, her eyes darting briefly toward the bath before flicking away to look up at the ceiling. “Everything okay?” she asked, her tone light but uncertain.

Rio nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah. I just… I don’t know. I don’t want to sit in here alone.”

Agatha hesitated, one hand resting on the doorframe as if unsure whether to step closer. “I didn’t want to intrude,” she said softly. Her gaze shifted, landing somewhere over Rio’s shoulder rather than meeting her eyes. 

“You’re not intruding,” Rio said, her voice warm with reassurance. “I asked you to come in.”

Agatha gave her a small, almost bashful smile, and after a moment, she crossed the room to sit on the edge of the tub. She perched carefully, her posture slightly stiff as though trying to take up as little space as possible. Her eyes were fixed firmly on her lap, avoiding the water entirely. 

Rio chuckled softly, the sound low and fond. “You don’t have to look so nervous,” she teased. “I’m not gonna bite.”

Agatha’s lips quirked into a crooked grin, though she still didn’t look at Rio directly. “I’m just being polite,” she said, her voice lightly teasing in return.

“Agatha,” Rio said, drawing out her name playfully, “you’re the one who forced me in here. You can at least pretend you’re comfortable.”

Agatha laughed, the sound rich and unguarded. “I’m plenty comfortable, thank you very much,” she said, finally turning her head just enough to glance at Rio’s face. Her cheeks were faintly pink, the color deepening as she noticed Rio watching her with an amused expression.

Rio tilted her head, her voice softening. “Thanks for this,” she said. “I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”

Agatha relaxed slightly at the sincerity in her tone, her teasing grin softening into something gentler. “I figured you could use a little help unwinding.”

Rio’s gaze lingered on her, the warmth in her chest growing. She reached out, her wet fingers brushing lightly against Agatha’s hand where it rested on the edge of the tub. Agatha blinked in surprise, her eyes dropping to their hands before meeting Rio’s gaze again.

“Stay,” Rio said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Just for a bit.” 

Agatha hesitated for a heartbeat, and then she nodded, her fingers curling slightly under Rio’s. She didn’t speak, but the way she stayed, her presence steady and grounding, was answer enough. 

“Why do you want me?” Rio asked softly, glancing up at Agatha.

Agatha sighed and tensed just slightly, Rio wouldn’t have caught it she hadn’t been looking at her so intently.

She took a deep breath, her fingers still curled slightly under Rio’s hand. The weight of the question hung between them, heavy but not oppressive, like an invitation rather than a demand despite the vulnerability with which it had been asked.

“I wasn’t sure at first,” Agatha said quietly, her voice measured, as if testing the waters of her own honesty. “When we first met… I didn’t expect to end up here. Not even close.”

Rio didn’t say anything, just watched her with a quiet patience that felt rare and safe. Agatha let the silence settle around them for a moment before she continued.

“Before you… I’d had this awful reminder of my ex,” she said, her tone hardening slightly. “She’d reached out, out of the blue, on an anniversary of our divorce just to needle me. Hinting that I wasn’t moving on. That I was incapable of it.” Agatha’s lips pressed into a thin line.

Her shoulders relaxed a little, but her gaze stayed fixed on the foam. “It wasn’t about being hung up on her—I wasn’t. It was how blindsided I’d been by the way everything ended. She cut so deep that it just… made it easier not to trust anyone else that way again. To not give anyone the power to hurt me like that. So I buried myself in work. It was easier. Predictable. Something I could control.”

Rio’s thumb brushed lightly against her knuckles, a quiet encouragement to go on.

“I’d dated people after her,” Agatha admitted, her voice softening. “But it was never serious. A few flings, some… distractions, really. I didn’t know what I was looking for, and I didn’t have much reason to figure it out. Until a friend told me about this… arrangement.” She let out a short, self-deprecating laugh. “They told me you could just pay for a date, like an event escort. They made it sound so casual. And I thought, why not? It wasn’t about wanting anyone. It was about showing my ex she didn’t still have a hold on me. Proving something.”

Rio’s lips quirked upward in a faint, understanding smile, but she didn’t interrupt.

“And then you showed up,” Agatha said, finally meeting Rio’s eyes. Her voice grew quieter, more introspective. “Nothing like I’d expected. You didn’t fit any of the boxes I thought I needed someone to fit. You weren’t trying too hard or acting like you had something to prove. You were just… you.” She smiled faintly, a soft, almost wistful expression. “And it completely threw me.”

Rio held her gaze, her brow furrowing slightly. “Why?”

Agatha hesitated, then exhaled slowly. “Because for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I had to perform. Or prove anything. You had no idea who I was, no expectations. You made me want to just… be.”

The vulnerability in her voice lingered in the air, settling between them like something fragile and precious. Agatha’s eyes were distant as she stared at nothing in particular. The faintest trace of a smile played on her lips, but it was bittersweet, more memory than joy. “I was so young when I fell in love with Ashley,” she began, her voice low like she was trying to keep the words from echoing too loudly. 

Rio stayed quiet, her gaze steady on Agatha, the water in the bath sloshing faintly as she adjusted her position.

“We were in college,” Agatha continued. “She was so clever and ambitious, the kind of person who made you feel like you were the most interesting thing in the room—when she wanted to.” She let out a small, wry laugh. “And when she didn’t, well… you learned not to ask for too much.”

Her eyes flickered to Rio, “I thought it was true love, and it was in a way. My parents weren’t exactly shining examples of what a good relationship looked like. My dad was aloof, and my mother…” She hesitated, her voice growing quieter. “My mother was cruel. She had this knack for making you feel like nothing you did was ever good enough. Like you weren’t good enough.”

Rio’s heart clenched at the rawness in Agatha’s words, but she stayed silent, letting her continue.

“So when someone like Ashley came along, someone who seemed to actually see me… I ignored a lot of red flags. A whole lot of them.” Agatha shook her head, a self-deprecating smile on her lips. “Those things tend to fester, though. Things that are annoying a few months in, well a few years later the cracks just multiply. I learned that the hard way.”

She paused for a brief moment as if deciding how exposed she was willing to be. “But I was young. I didn’t know better. I thought if I could just mold myself into someone people wanted—someone they didn’t just tolerate—then I’d be happy. Then I’d be… enough.”

Rio’s chest tightened at the quiet ache in her voice, and she fought the urge to reach out, knowing Agatha wasn’t finished.

“When my mom passed, she left behind a lot of money.” Agatha’s voice took on a bitter edge. “I’d expected nothing from her. I didn’t want anything from her. And yet, there it was.” She gestured vaguely as if the weight of her mother’s legacy hung in the air around her. “I’ve spent twenty years trying to get rid of it. Giving it away to causes, to people who actually need it. But it’s like this… this shadow that won’t go away.”

Agatha’s gaze finally lifted to meet Rio’s, her expression guarded but searching. “It’s funny, isn’t it? For all her cruelty, she still managed to leave something behind. Something I can’t shake.”

Rio stayed quiet for a moment, absorbing everything Agatha had said. The pieces of her—sharp, beautiful, and deeply scarred—clicked into place in Rio’s mind. She realized, with a pang, how much of Agatha’s life had been shaped by the need to avoid giving anyone power over her. 

“You’ve done a lot to let go of that,” Rio said softly, her voice steady but gentle. “But it sounds like you’ve been carrying it alone for a long time.”

Agatha’s lips quirked into a faint smile, tired but grateful. “Maybe. But I’ve gotten pretty good at carrying things on my own.”

Rio leaned forward slightly, her voice quiet but firm. “You don’t have to, you know.”

Agatha looked at her for a long moment, something in her gaze softening. “Maybe,” she said again, her tone lighter, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But old habits die hard.”

For a moment, Agatha just stared at her, the faintest flicker of something—hope, maybe—crossing her face. “And then you came along. And everything that has felt like a certainty… It scares me.” Her cheeks flushed a little again. “I don’t want to fuck whatever this is up. And if I’m honest between accidentally implying that I’m in love with you so soon and now dumping my baggage when you’re supposed to be relaxing… I feel like I am.”

Rio smiled gently. “You didn’t fuck anything up. And what you said, I know you were saying that you know, abstractly people love me. It doesn’t have to mean something more than that. Not yet.”

Agatha nodded. “Not yet.” She repeated, an unspoken but it could hung in the air. She shook her head and pushed off of the tub to gather a towel, gently placing it to the side.

“Blow the candle out when you’re done. I’ll find you some clothes,” she said softly, not exactly deflecting but silently requesting a moment of composure. Rio allowed it if only because she needed a moment to process as well.

Rio emerged from the bathroom, the towel wrapped around her, a few beads of water still clinging to her skin. She spotted the neatly folded clothes Agatha had laid out on the bed and smiled faintly at the thoughtfulness of it. But she didn’t reach for them. Not yet.

Her feet moved of their own accord, to where Agatha stood by the dresser, fussing idly with something she didn’t seem particularly focused on—rearranging an object that didn’t need rearranging.

Rio hesitated for only a second. The vulnerability they both had shared still lingered in the air between them, delicate but unmistakable, and Rio couldn’t ignore the pull in her chest. She wanted— needed —to do something to bridge the gap.

Before doubt could creep in, Rio crossed the room in two purposeful strides. Agatha barely had time to turn before Rio’s hands found her face, cradling it gently but firmly, and Rio kissed her with a desperation that caught them both off guard. 

Agatha stiffened for a fraction of a second, surprised, but then she melted into the kiss, her hands coming up to rest lightly on Rio’s bare shoulders. When Rio finally pulled back, her breath was shaky, her voice a hushed whisper. “What I want most… is for you to want me. Because I—” Her words broke off for a moment, her voice thick with emotion. “Because I want you so badly, Agatha.”

Agatha’s eyes widened, her lips parted slightly as though she might speak. But she didn’t. Instead, she cupped Rio’s face in return, her thumbs brushing softly against her cheekbones. 

“I do,” Agatha murmured, her voice barely audible but filled with a quiet certainty. She kissed Rio again, slower this time, but no less intense. “You have no idea how much I want from you,” she whispered, her breath warm against Rio’s skin. 

Rio’s heart skipped at the quiet declaration, and she didn’t wait for another moment of hesitation to rise between them. She drew Agatha closer, their kisses growing deeper, more insistent. Agatha tugged gently at the towel still wrapped around Rio, letting it slip to the floor, and Rio responded by guiding Agatha toward the bed.

There was no going back now and as Rio’s certainty grew so did the sureness of her hands. Together they quickly pulled away Agatha’s clothes between kisses that grew increasingly urgent.

The last lingering doubt evaporated as Agatha smiled at her, sweet and certain, before pulling her down onto the bed. The world outside of this moment ceased to exist as they tumbled together.

Rio shivered slightly and Agatha quickly moved to settle on top of her, reaching to pull a sheet partially over them. Her body was warm pressed against her, and her hands quickly moved to brush down her sides, one settling on the curve of her hip.

“You’re beautiful,” Agatha whispered reverently, dropping her lips to kiss away a drop of water that rolled down her neck. Rio whimpered softly in response, reaching up to grip Agatha’s shoulder and pull her closer.

“You’re… like something out of a dream.” Rio blushed at the confession and quickly covered it by pulling her down to kiss her again.

Their lips met again, this time slower, deeper, the kind of kiss that unraveled all thoughts, hesitations, and burdens. Agatha kissed her like she was memorizing her, like every soft press and every subtle tilt of her head was meant to leave a mark, not on Rio's skin but on something far more permanent. Rio let herself be claimed by it, her grip on Agatha's shoulder tightening as if to anchor herself to the moment. Her other hand trailed over Agatha’s back, she was so soft here, everywhere. Rio gave herself over to it.

Agatha’s hand moved up, brushing along Rio’s jaw and threading into her damp hair. Her touch was tender, her fingers warm and grounding, even as the kiss grew more fervent. Rio felt the heat of Agatha’s body pressing against her, a steady weight that brought a strange kind of comfort, as if she belonged there, like she had always been meant to be right there.

Rio pulled back just slightly, her breath hitching as their foreheads rested together. “I’ve had this dream,” she murmured, her voice hoarse, “I don’t want to wake up.”

Agatha gave her a half smile that made Rio’s heart lurch. “Then don’t,” she whispered back before claiming her lips again, this time with an intensity that made the rest of the world fade into nothingness. The kiss wasn’t hurried; it was purposeful, deliberate, as though Agatha was determined to show Rio all the things she couldn’t quite put into words.

They kissed and touched like two people trying to bridge the space between their broken pieces, finding a tentative wholeness in each other in this moment.

Rio gasped as Agatha’s mouth dipped lower, peppering more kisses over the swell of her breast. She watched, eyes wide as Agatha’s tongue flicked over her nipple before gently drawing it between her lips. She bit her lip to stifle a moan and felt Agatha shake her head before looking up at her.

“Don’t go shy on me. I want to hear you. You sound wonderful. Keep talking to me,” she whispered before moving to pay attention to her other breast.

“I want you.”

“I’m here,” Agatha murmured, shifting her weight to begin to trail her hand between them. Rio’s breath caught as her hand brushed over her stomach, and maddeningly slowly trailed to rest at her hip. Her whole body was trembling now, no longer from the chill of the room. “Is there anything you don’t like?” Agatha asked gently, moving to kiss under Rio’s jaw as she waited for her response.

“No. I want everything. I want you. I need you,” she whispered, shifting her legs slightly apart. 

Agatha hummed, pleased by this, and dipped her hand between her legs her touch featherlight as she brushed over Rio’s entrance. “Good. I want to give you everything you want.”

Her fingers were steady and sure as they pressed into her. But it was too gentle, too light. Rio whined and she shifted a little bit in the bed, widening her legs slightly. Agatha seemed to take this as discomfort and moved to pull away. But Rio couldn’t allow that. Every moment had building to this and she didn’t want Agatha to misunderstand. She didn’t need less. She needed more.

“Agatha please,” she keened, reaching down to grab her wrist, pulling her closer and deeper. “Don’t tease. I need you.” 

“Shh. I’m not teasing. Let me take care of you.” Agatha hummed, slipping two fingers inside her fully. Rio dropped her hold on her wrist, instead moving her hands to Agatha’s hair and pulling her into a hungry kiss.

Her movements were slow at first, a careful exploration of new terrain, like tracing the edges of an uncharted map. Agatha’s hands moved with purpose, but not haste, as though she wanted to memorize every curve and contour, to engrave the moment into her memory. Her fingers worked steadily inside her, her thumb moving to Rio’s clit, her lips never moving far from Rio’s lips or neck.

Each soft sigh, each whispered name, felt like a vow exchanged in a new language they were writing together. There was no rush, no urgency—just shared want, to give and to receive, to let the rest fade for now.

They discovered an unspoken rhythm between them. Rio’s hips lifting to meet every thrust. A steady stream of gasps and soft moans filled the air.

Every moment felt both transformative and inevitable. There was a vulnerability in the way they moved with each other, as if this intimacy wasn’t just about desire but about trust—about saying, without words: This is who I am. Stay anyway.

Rio gasped as a third finger pressed questioningly against her and she nodded eagerly. “Please,” she nearly cried, desperate for Agatha, desperate for more. She made another sound, half caught between a curse and a moan as Agatha curled them into her.

She still hadn’t fully really looked at Agatha and as she realized this, that thought became unbearable. “I want to see you,” she said, her voice stuttering slightly.

“We have time,” Agatha whispered against her ear, kissing it gently. “Just stay with me. Let me take care of you. You feel amazing, you sound amazing.”

Agatha scooted lower on the bed, kissing down her stomach and over the slight flare of her hips, gently using her free hand to spread her legs further apart. She gently kissed at her thigh and Rio couldn’t help the way her muscles twitched and her hips canted up towards her.

“Will you do something for me?” She asked lowly.

“Anything.”

“Be a dear and hold my hair back,” Agatha murmured as she withdrew her fingers and moved both hands to spread her further apart.

Rio stared at her for a moment, not understanding until Agatha guided her hands to pull her hair away from her face as she leaned down to press a gentle kiss just above her clit.

“Fuck.” Rio groaned, gently gathering Agatha’s hair back as she felt her tongue drag up her.

She kept up a slow rhythm, gradually pressing her two middle fingers back inside her.

Rio was fully squirming on the bed now, caught between pushing Agatha away it was all too much , and pulling her closer it could never be enough. She bit her lip as she pressed her head further back into the pillow, her back arching off the bed. She felt as if she’d float away if not for Agatha’s firm hand that settled over her stomach holding her in place.

Her thighs tightened around Agatha’s head as she scrambled for something to hang on to. She could feel everything rushing up in her all at once, a hot heavy feeling that she could not control. Not that she’d ever want to.

When she came she cried out, pulling perhaps a little too tightly on Agatha's hair. But based on the noise Agatha made as she continued to lavish her tongue against her, she didn’t mind.

She glanced down just as Agatha raised her head to grin up at her. She had a familiar smug smile but there was no missing how glassy her eyes were, how her cheeks were flushed. Rio tried to gasp air into her lungs, and as she watched Agatha’s tongue dart over her lips, her lips that were still wet from her , she wondered if she’d ever be able to take a full breath again. 

Agatha seemed to be in no hurry. She gently withdrew her fingers and placed her tongue against her, taking her time even as Rio felt her body flutter and jerk against her.

Eventually, Rio moved her hand to cup her jaw, urging her back up. And Agatha followed easily, leaving a trail of slick kisses as she moved back up her body. When she reached Rio’s face she kissed her softly, and Rio could taste herself on her tongue.

After a moment, Agatha rolled onto her back, easily pulling Rio with her so that her head rested against her chest.

Agatha’s fingers lazily traced patterns along Rio’s skin, her touch light but lingering, as Rio’s breath evened out in the soft glow of contentment. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other, as though the moment could last forever.

Finally, Rio broke it, brushing her nose under Agatha’s jaw. “I want something else.”

“What’s that?” Agatha murmured, turning her head to give her a cheeky smile.

“I want you now.” Rio hummed, kissing lightly under her jaw as she let her hand wander down Agatha’s stomach.

“Well, darling. I already told you. I’ll give you anything you want.”

Chapter Text

Agatha smirked, catching Rio’s chin between her thumb and forefinger. Her grip was firm but playful as she tilted Rio’s face up, commanding her attention. “Well. I already told you,” she murmured, her lips grazing Rio’s in a whisper of a kiss. “I’ll give you anything you want.”

Rio’s grin was equal parts mischievous and heated as she met Agatha’s eyes. “And I already told you . I want you to want me.”

Agatha’s smirk deepened, her voice like silk as she answered, “I already do.”

“Prove it,” Rio challenged, her tone edged with a playful growl, her fingers pressing just a little harder against Agatha’s side.

Agatha shifted smoothly, rolling on top of Rio with an effortless grace. Her knees straddled Rio’s hips, her hair spilling forward as she leaned down, her lips hovering just out of reach. Rio flicked her eyes down Agatha’s body and her breath stuttered for just a moment. Needing to touch, to feel, she reached towards Agatha’s breast. 

But before she could confirm whether they felt as soft as they had in her dreams, Agatha caught Rio’s hands, pinning them above her head in a quick move that had her breathless again.

“That’s dangerous,” Rio murmured, her voice teasing but laced with something darker, deeper. She shifted her hips under Agatha but made no move to try and break her hold.

Agatha’s smile was slow and wicked, her gaze unwavering. “It is, isn’t it just,” she replied, her voice a low purr as she leaned down, brushing her lips over Rio’s but withholding the kiss. Rio wined and tried to tilt her head to catch her lips, but her lips only found Agatha’s cheek. She kissed it anyway.

Agatha’s weight pressed down, her movements deliberate, as she leaned in close to Rio’s ear. “Well, darling,” she drawled, her voice nearly a whisper. “This is about you relaxing. So... if you want”—her lips curved into a smile, her breath hot against Rio’s skin—“you don’t have to move a muscle.”

Rio tilted her head back against the pillow, letting out a soft laugh, though her pulse quickened. “You’re really used to getting your way, aren’t you?” she asked her voice strained with anticipation.

“I get what I want,” Agatha answered smoothly, lowering herself until her lips brushed Rio’s once again. As she kissed her, Rio’s mind wandered through all the times she’d imagined this. But she was harshly thrown back into focus as she felt Agatha roll her hips down against her. She could feel her, hot and wet against her stomach. She did it again, this time making full eye contact with Rio, though her eyes quickly fluttered closed and her smirk fell as she moaned.

Hearing Agatha moan her name sent a shock through her body. She couldn’t help the way her hips twitched up as she bent her knees and planted her feet on the bed. This sent Agatha off balance, and she dropped her hold on Rio’s hands as she reached to grab the headboard. Immediately, Rio moved her hands to circle Agatha’s hips, pressing her thumbs against the little dimples she found there. 

She didn’t need to direct Agatha, she was already rolling her hips in a steady slow motion. Rio grinned, dumbstruck at her for just a moment before recovering, “Fuck Agatha. You look so good. You are the hottest thingー”

“I usually am.” Agatha teased, reaching her hand that wasn’t curled around the headboard to pull Rio’s hand from her waist and towards where she was currently, sinfully spreading herself against Rio’s stomach. 

Rio swallowed heavily as she let her hand be pulled and moved into place, gasping as her fingers brushed, glided really, over Agatha’s clit. “Lift your hips a bit,” she murmured, her voice rough.

Agatha did, and for a moment Rio did nothing but stare, committing every detail to memory.

“Rio.” She probably meant for it to be stern but it came out more like a whine. She didn’t want to put this off any longer so she wouldn’t make Agatha beg tonight, but part of her wondered if she could—a thought for another time.

“How many?” She asked, holding Agatha’s gaze. She wet her lips as she waited for her response, and let just the tip of one finger dip inside her.

“Two.” Agatha responded quickly, trying to pull Rio’s hand closer. She glanced down at Rio’s hand for a second and smirked as she considered it. “To start.” She added, her eyes meeting Rio’s as her entire face curled into a devilish grin. “We can probably work up to four.”

A moan tore from Rio’s chest and she immediately got to work delivering everything Agatha wanted.

She’d ridden her fingers. Then her face. That one took Rio a little more time to convince Agatha than she would have liked. But judging by the way she had practically screamed as she came with Rio’s tongue buried inside her, there’d be less hesitation next time.

The bed was a mess as they tangled themselves in it and each other. The majority of Agatha’s ridiculous number of pillows had been thrown, kicked, or knocked onto the floor. When they finally fell back onto their sides, eager hands still clinging to each other, the quilt was nowhere to be found so Rio settled for pulling the sheets over them.

She didn’t know when they stopped. She remembered their movements growing slower and lazier. Words became whispers and moans softened to sighs. Agatha’s eyes were soft, her touches gentle. For once there was no teasing. Just a soft acknowledgment of something new settling between them.

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden glow over the room. Rio stirred first, and for a moment sputtered as she tried to brush Agatha’s hair out of her face. She’d fallen asleep holding her, and as she came to with her curled up comfortably in her arms she simply watched her, taking in the rare sight of Agatha truly at ease, her features relaxed and softened in sleep. 

She kissed the back of Agatha’s shoulder gently, pulling her closer against her as she felt Agatha begin to stir.

“Morning,” Agatha murmured, her voice warm and scratchy. 

Rio smirked as she pushed some of Agatha’s hair out of the way to kiss the back of her neck.“Morning.” She placed a few more kisses there before rolling onto her back. Agatha followed her, rolling to face her and then settling her head on her chest.

They lay there for a moment before Rio mumbled teasingly. “So much for no sleepovers.” 

Agatha shrugged as she looked up toward Rio, her smile turning sly. “We didn’t exactly sleep much, did we?” 

Rio’s laughter bubbled up fully, and she let her head drop back to the pillow. “No, we didn’t,” she conceded, brushing a strand of hair out of Agatha’s face. Her hand lingered, the gentle intimacy of the gesture making Agatha’s cheeks flush.

The morning unfolded slowly, lazily, with neither of them in a rush to break the spell of quiet domesticity. Agatha made coffee for herself and tea for Rio. She was just setting the plates on the table when her phone buzzed loudly on the counter. She glanced at the screen and sighed when she saw Jen’s name lighting up the display. Agatha arched an eyebrow, watching as Rio let the call ring out. 

“Not going to answer?” Agatha asked casually, though her gaze was sharp.

Rio shook her head, grabbing her mug of tea. “Nope. It’s just Jen, probably asking if we’re out of milk or something. She can wait. I have nowhere else to be.” 

The phone buzzed again, this time with a text notification. Rio picked it up and read the message.

Hey Alice and I are outside Broken Egg, where are you?

“Oh shit.” Rio groaned

“What did she say?” Agatha asked, her voice curious. 

Rio hesitated for a beat, running a hand through her hair. “I completely forgot I told Jen I’d meet her and Alice for brunch.”

Agatha looked up from her coffee, raising an eyebrow. “You should go. You don’t want to leave them waiting.”

But Rio had already sent a quick reply:

Jen I’m super sorry, it slipped my mind and I’m clear across town.

An eye roll emoji was sent back to her along with another message:

This excuse better be good.

Rio sighed, setting her phone on the counter with an air of resignation. "I feel bad. But not bad enough to want to leave." She took a long sip of her tea, hoping to shake off the pang of guilt as she glanced over at Agatha.  

Agatha leaned against the counter, casual but composed, her robe tied neatly around her waist. She took a slow sip of her coffee, completely unbothered, and Rio couldn't help but feel a pang of something else entirely—amusement mixed with affection.  

The sight gave Rio an idea. Quietly, she picked up her phone and adjusted the angle to snap a quick picture of Agatha, the steam curling from her mug and the sunlight catching on her skin in a way that made her look… gorgeous, ethereal even.   

But as soon as she hit the button, Agatha looked up. Her gaze flicked to Rio, sharp and knowing. "What are you doing?"  

Rio froze. There was a long, charged pause, and she scrambled for an explanation that didn’t sound ridiculous. “Uh—"  

“Are you…” Agatha set her coffee down, tilting her head with mock incredulity. “Are you sneaking pictures of me?”  

Rio opened her mouth, then closed it again, the tips of her ears burning. “I was going to send it to Jen,” she admitted sheepishly. “She said my excuse better be good.”  

For a moment, she worried she’d gone too far. Agatha’s expression was unreadable, her lips pursed like she was trying to decide whether to be annoyed.  

But then Agatha chuckled softly, the sound warm and low, and Rio exhaled. “If you’re going to send a photo of me,” Agatha said with a wry smile, “at least let me fix my hair or something. That one’s hardly flattering.”  

Rio blinked, her jaw dropping slightly. “Are you serious?”  

Agatha shrugged, sipping her coffee again. “Why not? If I’m going to be part of your ‘very good excuse,’ might as well make it convincing.”  

Rio laughed, her nerves melting into genuine amusement. “Okay, then. What do you suggest? Vogue pose? Coy smile?”  

Agatha smirked, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “How about we decide after you let me drink my coffee in peace?”  

Grinning, Rio raised her phone again and snapped another quick picture before Agatha could protest. “Too late.” She glanced at the screen. “Perfect. You look amazing.”  

Agatha shook her head, rolling her eyes but clearly amused.

Rio sent the photo with a caption to Jen: This is my excuse. You understand now, right?  

Moments later, Jen’s reply buzzed back: It’s about damn time. Fine. But you’re buying mimosas next time. Wait no, she is. You’re bringing her. That’s how you make it up to me.

Rio laughed and took the temporary victory. “Okay. Bought us some time. But you’re going to have to put up with one brunch with Jen and maybe Alice.”

Agatha hummed and sipped her coffee. “Alice, is she a girl friend or a girlfriend?” 

She gave a shrug and a half smile. “Beats me. I don’t know if they even know.”

“Fine. But I’m picking the place.”

Rio smiled and took the chance to kiss her cheek. “Yes dear,” she teased, looping her arms around Agatha’s waist.

“So,” Agatha started, business-like, “you blew off your friends, and I have a rare Sunday with no work to catch up on. Whatever will we do?” She shot Rio a playful grin as she tilted her head slightly.

“Well, I have some ideas,” Rio murmured, leaning to kiss gently at her jaw.

“Wonderful. So do I!” Agatha responded brightly.

The mischievous grin on Agatha’s face should have been Rio’s first clue that her rare day off wasn’t going to be spent lazily tangled up in bed. She should have known better.  

An hour later Rio found herself standing in the middle of an estate sale, surrounded by musty furniture, gilded mirrors, and porcelain figurines that stared blankly at her from shelves. She tucked her hands in her pockets to keep from bumping into anything and glanced at Agatha, who was practically glowing as she inspected a lamp that, to Rio, looked like it belonged in a haunted mansion.  

Agatha ran a finger delicately along the base of the lamp, her eyes sharp and appraising. “They don’t know what they have,” she whispered, her voice conspiratorial.  

Rio snorted, crossing her arms. “And what exactly do they have? Because from here, it looks like a prop from a Hitchcock film.”  

Agatha shot her a mock-scandalized look. “This, Rio, is a Tiffany-style lamp. Authentic, by the looks of it, though they probably just see it as old junk. A little haggling, and it’s ours for a fraction of what it’s worth.”  

“Wait.” Rio arched an eyebrow. “You didn’t drag me here for my negotiating skills, did you?”  

Agatha laughed softly, the sound warm and amused. “Hardly. I’ve got that part handled.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “I brought you to be the muscle.”  

Rio rolled her eyes, trying to fight the grin that tugged at her lips. “Muscle, huh? What do you think’s going to happen here? Someone’s going to try to wrestle you for that thing?”  

“You never know,” Agatha said with a dramatic little shrug, her eyes sparkling. “It’s cutthroat out here.”  

“Right,” Rio said dryly. “I’ll just stand here looking intimidating, then.”  

“Perfect.” Agatha winked, her grin widening as she motioned for Rio to pick up the lamp and started toward the seller cash in hand. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it worth your while.”  

Rio sighed, trailing after her. “I really hope that doesn’t involve me hauling that thing all the way to your car.”  

Agatha glanced over her shoulder, her tone sweet but smug. “Well, now that you mention it…”  

Rio groaned but couldn’t help the chuckle that followed. There was no resisting her when she got that look in her eyes, and, honestly, Rio didn’t really mind.

The weeks that followed unfolded in a rhythm that felt both indulgent and familiar. 

Agatha’s dates were, as ever, a touch extravagant. She had a knack for sweeping Rio into moments that felt plucked from glossy magazine pages—intimate wine tastings at hidden cellars, last-minute tickets to avant-garde theater performances, and one unforgettable night where she arranged for a private gallery tour. Rio continued to tease her relentlessly for the dramatics of it all, but she’d stopped fighting Agatha on it. Instead, she leaned into the experiences, knowing they were Agatha’s way of showing her affection.

But Rio had her ways too. She dragged her to hole-in-the-wall cafes that smelled of burnt coffee, introduced her to bars where the walls were crowded with mismatched decor and the regulars greeted Rio by name. She loved the way Agatha would wrinkle her nose at a menu scrawled in chalk before surrendering to a greasy burger. It wasn’t just about the food or the teasing, Rio thought—it was the way Agatha let herself soften each time.

By late November, a quiet pattern had emerged. Rio found herself spending at least two nights a week at Agatha’s house. The space, once so deeply Agatha’s, had taken on an new warmth with Rio in it. Her spare boots were left by the door, a forgotten sweater draped over a chair, and her laugh echoed through the kitchen as Agatha attempted to teach her how to poach an egg. 

Jen, of course, had her opinions. “So,” she had drawled one morning over coffee, giving Rio a knowing look. “Must be exhausting, dragging yourself all the way across town twice a week for casual .”

Rio rolled her eyes, but her smile gave her away. Jen wasn’t wrong. “Yeah. Well. We haven’t put you know, a name on it. But it’s not casual.”

The realization snuck up on her one stormy evening, as the season’s first heavy snow began to fall. She and Agatha were tangled together on the couch, half-heartedly watching a movie that had long since been forgotten in favor of soft, lingering kisses.

It was in the easy way Agatha’s hands slid through her hair, the low murmur of her laughter as Rio kissed her neck, that Rio suddenly, undeniably knew: she was in love with her. Completely. Irrevocably.

The thought sent a thrill through her chest, equal parts exhilaration and terror. She held it close, letting the snow fall and the candlelight flicker, hoping Agatha couldn’t see it in her eyes just yet.

When Agatha’s friend Melissa was in town for a conference they got dinner with her. The bawdy redhead had teased Agatha mercilessly when she spotted the hickey on her neck. Rio had expected her to be annoyed but instead found herself laughing as Agatha dryly commented that possessiveness was one of the few drawbacks of taking a younger lover.

But she hadn’t complained later that night when Rio had left more little lovebites down her chest. She’d even returned a few of her own.

“Jesus Christ, was she making out with you or mauling you?” Jen teased as she noticed the dark mark on her neck as Rio pulled her sweater on.

“Trust me, I was not complaining.” Rio laughed, grabbing her snow boots as Jen dramatically gagged. “Don’t bring it up though! You don’t know how long it took me to talk her into brunch.”

“Oh please,” Jen teased, “are you still pretending that you don’t have that woman completely whipped for you?” She pulled on a ridiculous pom pom beanie that only she would be able to make look fashionable.

“I mean it Jen!” Rio replied indignantly. “Best behavior today!”

By the time Rio and Jen arrived at the cozy café Agatha had chosen for brunch, Rio was already second-guessing her decision to bring her best friend along. Jen had spent the entire trip over making increasingly ridiculous suggestions for conversation starters "So, Agatha, what’s it like dating someone whose go-to dinner is ramen?" and generally doing her best to get under Rio’s skin.

But the moment they walked through the door, Rio felt her nerves ease as she spotted Agatha at a corner table, effortlessly elegant in a soft navy sweater that matched the snowy streets outside. She looked up and smiled warmly, her eyes softening when they landed on Rio.

“Hey,” Rio began as they approached, pausing to lean down to kiss her cheek.

Agatha stood to greet them, extending her hand to Jen with a polite but firm grip. “It’s so nice to finally get to meet you.”

“Likewise,” Jen said, her grin widening as she took Agatha’s hand. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Too much possibly. You’ve made quite the impression.”

Agatha glanced at Rio with a knowing smile. “Oh, have I?”

“God,” Rio muttered, sliding into her seat, “this was a mistake.”

Jen and Agatha shared a look and, to Rio’s growing horror, a small laugh. It was the beginning of the end for her.

By the time the coffee arrived, the pair were thick as thieves, swapping stories that inevitably led to teasing Rio.

“So,” Jen said, her eyes glinting mischievously over the rim of her coffee cup, “has she taken you to one of her karaoke nights yet?”

Agatha tilted her head, intrigued. “Karaoke? No, not yet.”

“Oh, it’s a sight to behold,” Jen said, leaning forward. “She’s got this move—she points dramatically at the audience during the chorus, like she’s about to throw down a challenge. It’s pure theater.”

Rio groaned, burying her face in her hands. “I do not.”

“Oh, you absolutely do,” Jen countered. “You did it during I’m On Fire last month. Twice.”

Agatha’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she turned to Rio, a grin tugging at her lips. “Springsteen? Really? Were you channeling your inner rock star?”

“I was not,” Rio said defensively, though her ears were turning red. “I was just…feeling the music.”

Jen snorted. “Feeling the music, huh? You practically had people holding up lighters.”

Agatha laughed softly, resting her chin in her hand as she watched Rio squirm. “I think it’s endearing. Passionate, even.” She paused, her expression growing more wicked. “But now I have to see this for myself. It’s been a while but I happen to love karaoke.” 

“Absolutely not,” Rio said firmly, shooting a glare at Jen. “Don’t encourage her.”

“Oh, it’s happening,” Jen said, sitting back with a smug grin. “You can’t deprive her of the full experience.”

Agatha’s laughter was warm and rich, and Rio found herself torn between exasperation and the strange satisfaction of seeing the two of them get along so well—too well, in fact.

“Why do I feel like I’m being set up?” Rio muttered, crossing her arms.

“Because you are,” Jen said sweetly.

“Darling,” Agatha said, placing a hand on Rio’s arm, “if it makes you feel better, I promise not to point and laugh when you serenade me with Don’t Stop Believin’. ”

Jen nearly spit out her coffee, laughing so hard she had to reach for a napkin.

Rio groaned, shaking her head. “I’m going to regret this brunch forever.”

But despite the ribbing, Rio couldn’t help the small smile tugging at her lips. Seeing Agatha and Jen click so easily filled her with a quiet sense of joy. For all her embarrassment, she knew deep down she wouldn’t trade this moment for anything.

“A duet then?” Jen teased “What’s that one song that’s like ‘how do you call your loverboy?’”

“Oh! ‘Come here loverboy,’” Agatha half sang before laughing, “Love is Strange.”

“That’s the one!” Jen laughed, dissolving into near hysterics at Rio’s flushed face.

“Okay, that’s it,” Rio said, sitting up and pointing an accusatory finger at Agatha. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Honey,” Agatha said smoothly, reaching over to place a hand on Rio’s arm, her touch both calming and maddeningly smug, “I’m always on your side. It’s just more fun from over here.”

Jen practically cackled, earning a sharp glare from Rio. But despite the ribbing, Rio couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at her lips. Seeing Agatha and Jen click so easily felt like a win she hadn’t even realized she wanted.

As the conversation moved on, the teasing gave way to shared stories and easy laughter. Rio sat back, watching the two most important people in her life forge a bond over bottomless mimosas and overpriced omelets. Despite the occasional jab at her expense, she couldn’t help feeling a deep sense of contentment.

When the check came, Jen leaned over to Agatha and stage-whispered, “You know, if she ever is way too cool and confident, just call me. I have so many embarrassing stories.”

“Oh, I’m sure you do,” Agatha replied with a mischievous glint in her eye.

Rio groaned, shaking her head as she reached for her wallet. “Great. Just great. My worst nightmare has come true. You two are ganging up on me.”

Jen grinned and raised her glass in mock toast. “To a successful brunch and to Rio, our favorite victim.”

Agatha clinked her glass lightly against Jen’s, her smile softening as she glanced at Rio. “And to her wonderful taste in friends.”

“Hey!” Rio protested, though she couldn’t help the laugh that escaped.

Agatha insisted on paying the bill and as they stepped outside into the snowy afternoon, Rio couldn’t shake the feeling that things had shifted—just a little. Seeing Agatha and Jen get along so well felt like a promise, like maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t a one-time thing.

The evening was nothing extraordinary, at this point, it was a common scene. Agatha was at the stove, sautéing vegetables while humming under her breath, her hair tied up in a messy knot that Rio found unbearably cute. Rio sat perched at the kitchen counter with a glass of red wine in hand, providing her self-proclaimed “helpful commentary.”

“You sure that much garlic isn’t a felony in some places?” Rio teased, smirking as Agatha rolled her eyes.

“Relax,” Agatha shot back, waving a wooden spoon at her. “Garlic is a love language.”

“I thought that was wine,” Rio quipped, swirling her glass.

“It’s both,” Agatha replied with a smirk, turning back to the pan.

The sound of a sharp knock at the front door cut through the comfortable warmth of the kitchen.

“Were you expecting someone?” Rio asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No.” Agatha frowned and gestured toward the door. “Can you grab that? I’m elbow-deep in olive oil here.”

Rio slid off the stool, setting her glass down. As she approached the door, she had a fleeting thought that maybe it was a neighbor or a package delivery. Instead, when she opened it, she found herself face-to-face with the last person she wanted to see in Agatha’s house.

“Hello again,” Ashley said coolly, looking past Rio as though she didn’t exist. Without waiting for an invitation, she stepped inside.

Rio stiffened, her jaw tightening. “Can I help you?”

“Agatha,” Ashley called, her voice smooth and practiced as she strode in with a familiarity that twisted Rio’s stomach.

Agatha’s head snapped up from the stove. The irritation on her face was immediate. “Absolutely not.” Her tone was sharp, cutting.

Ashley walked further into the house, her heels clicking against the floor. “We need to talk.”

“Excuse me?” Agatha said, stepping forward and positioning herself between Ashley and Rio. “What the hell are you doing barging into my house? Get out.”

Ashley folded her arms, her expression unbothered. “You’ve been ignoring my calls. I didn’t have much of a choice.”

Agatha’s hands curled into fists at her sides. “Actually, you did. You could’ve taken the hint.”

Rio stood a few steps behind Agatha, her gaze fixed on Ashley with a protective edge. “You should leave,” she said, her voice low but firm.

Ashley glanced at her, barely sparing her a second look. “I’m not here to cause a scene,” she said smoothly. “I just need a moment with Agatha. In private.”

Agatha let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “You’ve got some nerve showing up uninvited and demanding my time.”

Rio took a small step forward, ready to intervene, but Agatha held up a hand, her eyes locking onto Ashley with fiery determination.

“Ashley,” Agatha said, her voice dripping with controlled anger, “I don’t owe you anything—not my time, not my space, and definitely not a private conversation.”

Ashley’s expression didn’t falter. “This is important, Agatha. Five minutes.”

Agatha let out a frustrated breath, glancing over her shoulder at Rio. Her gaze softened slightly, though her voice remained firm. “Rio, can you go flip the chicken?”

Rio blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

“Please,” Agatha said, her tone leaving no room for argument.

For a moment, Rio hesitated, her protective instincts warring with the request. But the look in Agatha’s eyes told her this was a battle she needed to let Agatha fight. With a reluctant nod, Rio turned and headed back into the kitchen, though she kept her ears tuned to the low murmur of voices in the living room.

She tried to focus on the sizzling pan in front of her, but her attention kept drifting to the tense conversation behind her. She couldn’t make out much, just the occasional rise in Agatha’s voice or Ashley’s measured, calm tone.

“You are unbelievable…”

“You don’t get to—”

“You haven’t changed at all, have you?”

“No. There is not a world where I—”

The words were muffled, fragmented, but the heat in them was unmistakable. Rio’s hand tightened around the spatula as a swell of frustration and worry coursed through her. She trusted Agatha, but everything about Ashley’s presence, her demeanor, set her teeth on edge.

As the conversation escalated, Rio kept her eyes on the stove, forcing herself to stay put despite every instinct screaming to step back into the fray.

A few minutes later the conversation grew quiet again, and Ashley emerged from the living room without Agatha.

She looked over Rio with a calculating stare that curled into a sneer as she buttoned her coat tightly. “You know I didn’t realize Agatha liked playing house, if we hadn’t met I would’ve sworn you were the help.”

Rio bit her tongue as her fist tightened around the spatula.

“I think your chicken is burning. Have a nice night.” She swept out of the room as quickly as she had entered, dismissing Rio without another glance.

As the door clicked shut, Agatha emerged from the living room but froze as she took in Rio’s expression.

“What did she say to you?”

“Nothing. It’s not important.” Rio mumbled, turning back to the pan. The chicken had burned on one side. Fuck her.

“Rio, what did she say to you?” Agatha repeated, her voice rising. When Rio didn’t respond, she heard Agatha’s footsteps speed up towards the door. Agatha was furious, nearly growling now “I swear, whatever she fucking saidー”

“Agatha.” Rio turned, and Agatha froze her hand on the doorknob. “Don’t. Will you just come here please?”

There was a beat before Agatha reluctantly released her hold on the door and walked back into the kitchen. Rio moved the pan off of the burner and sighed as she in one long sip finished her glass. “What did she have to say to you ?”

She watched Agatha’s face carefully, scanning for any clues. Agatha worried her lip between her teeth for a second before sighing. “She came here because she wanted something. She only ever needs me when she wants something.”

Rio exhaled slowly trying to keep her calm. “Okay. Can I ask what she wanted?”

Agatha, always perceptive Agatha, noticed how tense her shoulders had drawn up and took a step closer, gently placing her hands on Rio’s waist.

“Old habits die hard,” she laughed mirthlessly, “she’s found herself in a bit of a mess.”

“And she wants you to clean it up for her.”

Agatha shrugged, “Old habits.”

Rio nodded and took a long moment to consider her next question. Agatha waited patiently as if she already had predicted it. “Are you going to help her?”

Agatha’s brow furrowed and her voice softened, “It’s work Rio, nothing more.”

“That’s not what I asked.”

“Are you asking me not to?” One hand moved to softly rub Rio’s back.

Rio sighed and shook her head. “I don’t want to be like that. Your work isn’t my business.”

“I haven’t decided. I told her I’d think about it.” Agatha conceded, still studying Rio’s face. “I’ve never turned down a client. But… for you, I would. So I want you to tell me what she said to you. And then I’ll decide.”

Rio poked her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “If I tell you, you have to promise me that you’re not going to do something that ends up with your mugshot on the cover of the Tribune.”

Agatha’s eyes darkened and her grip grew just a little firmer.

“Did she threaten you?”

“Of course not. She’d have to see me as an equal to do that.” Rio kicked her foot against the floor. “She implied that she mistook me as the help.”

“Where are my keys,” Agatha growled, spinning away from her.

Rio quickly wrapped her arms around her waist holding her in place. “Nope! What did I just say!”

“Let me go.” Agatha hissed as she struggled against her.

“Agatha, it isn’t worth it.”

“Rioー”

“Baby, please.”

Agatha glanced back at Rio over her shoulder. Her eyes were still blazing with rage but she softened at the pet name and allowed Rio to turn her around.

Rio backed her against the counter and kissed her gently. “Thank you. Stay here with me.”

She huffed but nodded, “Only because you’re asking.” Rio kissed her again before pulling away to plate their meal. “That settles it though. She’s crossed a line. She gets nothing from me. Never again.”

Rio nodded, frowning as she scraped at the chicken stuck to the pan. “This chicken is fucked though. Pizza and Survivor instead?” 

Agatha smiled and let the heated moment go. “Let me order, you always conveniently forget to ask for extra mushrooms.”

“No. I don’t forget. I just hate them.”

Chapter Text

The house smelled like pine and cinnamon when Rio stepped inside, stamping snow off her boots. She glanced up and immediately burst into laughter at the sight of the towering Christmas tree standing proudly in the corner of the living room. It stretched nearly to the ceiling, its ornaments a mix of classic silver baubles, tiny snowflakes, and a few hand-painted decorations that she was certain Agatha had picked out to make it feel more authentic.

“You really went all out, huh?” Rio teased, shedding her coat as she looked over the extravagance of the tree.

Agatha appeared in the doorway, holding two mugs of cocoa. She was wearing a cozy sweater, her hair left down in messy waves. “You’re the one who picked it out and insisted it had to be ‘impressive.’ I just took you at your word when I added the decorations.”

Rio grinned, taking a mug from her. “It’s impressive, alright. Did you get scaffolding to decorate the top?”

“No need. I stood on the counter,” Agatha replied breezily, earning a disapproving look from Rio.

As Rio set her mug down and approached the tree, her gaze fell on the small pile of gifts nestled underneath. She crouched, eyeing the neat wrapping and reading the tags.

“‘To Rio,’” she read aloud, her brows quirking up as she picked up one of the larger boxes. “What’s this?”

“Open it,” Agatha said, leaning against the back of the couch with a small, amused smile.

Rio unwrapped the gift carefully, revealing a sturdy pair of boots. Her old ones were decent enough but definitely worse for wear after years of weathering slush, mud, and everything in between.

“They’re waterproof,” Agatha offered as Rio examined them. “I noticed your current ones looked a little... well-loved.”

Rio laughed. “You mean they look like hell.” She looked up, her smile softening. “Thanks. These are perfect.”

Agatha shrugged, though there was a pleased gleam in her eye. “There’s another one for you under there.”

Rio picked up the second package, smaller but heavier than the first this one with a small black heart doodled on it. She tore through the wrapping and revealed a sleek, stylish backpack. It was practical, with plenty of compartments, but also undeniably more fashionable than she’d buy for herself.

“Let me guess,” Rio said, holding it up, “you’re gonna tell me this is better than the duct-tape masterpiece I’ve been rocking?”

“Please,” Agatha said, smirking. “Have you had that thing since high school? I figured it was time for an upgrade.”

Rio laughed, shaking her head. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You’re welcome,” Agatha quipped, her grin mischievous but affectionate.

Rio set the backpack down, looking at Agatha warmly. “These are great. Really. But you didn’t have to do all this.”

“Well, there’s one more,” Agatha said, her tone suddenly a little softer as she reached for the final package under the tree, a small rectangular one. She handed it to Rio, her teasing demeanor replaced with something more unsure.

Rio unwrapped the gift carefully, revealing a simple silver picture frame. Inside was a candid photo of the two of them, taken at the wedding. In the photo, they were mid-laugh Rio's arm draped around Agatha's shoulders, leaning into each other as if no one else in the world existed.

Rio stared at it, her chest tightening. She ran her thumb over the glass, feeling her throat go dry.

“Jamie sent it to me,” Agatha said quietly, standing beside her now. “They snapped it on their phone and thought I’d want a copy. They were right.”

Rio swallowed hard, looking up at Agatha with a soft, almost shy smile. “I love it,” she said simply.

Agatha smiled back, her voice light but sincere. “I thought you might.”

Rio set the frame down carefully on the coffee table, then turned and pulled Agatha into a tight hug, burying her face in her shoulder.

“You’re making it real hard for me to leave,” Rio murmured, her voice muffled but tinged with warmth.

Agatha chuckled, resting her chin on Rio’s shoulder. “Good. That was the point.”

Rio had agreed to visit her family in New York for Christmas, Agatha had encouraged her saying that she always took the time when the office was closed to catch up with no interruptions.

“Well,” Rio said slyly, reaching into an interior pocket of her jacket and pulling out a dark purple envelope. “I got you something too.”

Agatha took the envelope with a curious smile and opened it.

Inside the envelope were two tickets to Wicked . Agatha blinked, her eyes scanning the glossy paper as realization dawned.

“Wicked?” she asked, looking up at Rio with wide eyes.

Rio scratched the back of her neck, suddenly looking uncharacteristically nervous. “Yeah, I thought… well, you’re always humming songs from it, and I figured it might be fun. It’s the night before Christmas Eve. But if you’re not into it, that’s totally okay—”

“Not into it?” Agatha interrupted, her voice bubbling with delight. “Rio, I love this show.”

Rio grinned, visibly relieved. “Yeah? I thought you might. I haven’t seen it before, but I heard it’s  a good one.”

“It’s perfect,” Agatha said, clutching the tickets like they were the most precious thing she’d ever held. “Thank you. This is too much.”

Rio shrugged, trying to play it cool. “Well, I wanted you to have them. It was worth a few extra closing shifts.” She hesitated for a moment, her voice softening. “I also thought… you know, maybe it’d be a chance to meet my family. If you wanted to. My abuela always has a big Christmas Eve thing.”

Agatha’s heart skipped. She beamed, the warmth of the moment washing over her. “You want me to meet your family?”

“Yeah,” Rio said, her confidence faltering just slightly. “I mean, no pressure or anything, but I figured since we’re… you know… it might be nice.”

Agatha’s grin widened. “I’d love to meet them.” She stepped closer, placing her hands on Rio’s arms. “This means a lot to me. Thank you for asking.”

Rio’s shoulders relaxed, her smile growing softer. “Good. Because, honestly? I really want you to come.”

Agatha leaned in, brushing a kiss to Rio’s cheek before pulling her into a warm hug the lights from the Christmas tree twinkled in the background, casting their shadows over the wall.

They flew to New York the morning of the show, Agatha paying to upgrade Rio's previously purchased seat so they could sit together. Agatha had booked at room at The Carlisle, a ridiculously extravagant hotel, but Rio had to admit it was a big upgrade from sleeping on her family’s couch. However, just the thought of seeing Agatha sleeping on a sofa for the night did make her laugh.

In the cramped bathroom of their hotel room, Rio stood by the sink, drumming her fingers against the countertop as Agatha adjusted her hair in the mirror.

“You look beautiful already,” Rio said, her voice warm and sincere, her reflection catching Agatha’s eye. “Seriously, you don’t have to fuss so much. Your hair looks great as is. It always dose.”

Agatha gave her a wry smile. “Patience, darling. It’s a virtue.”

Rio checked her watch for the third time, her foot tapping restlessly against the tile. “Doors open at seven, you know. And the show starts at eight.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow, brushing a stray strand of hair into place. “I heard you the first five times, love.”

Rio huffed, leaning against the sink and watching her with a mix of admiration and growing impatience. “I’m just saying, you don’t need to do anything else. That outfit is... wow.” Her eyes swept over Agatha, taking in the sharp lines of her tailored emerald velvet blazer and slim pants. “I mean, seriously. You look sexy as hell. Let’s get out of here so I can show you off.”

Agatha smirked, her movements slowing as she enjoyed Rio’s attention. “Good to know my efforts aren’t wasted.”

Rio groaned dramatically, glancing at her ticket again. “We should’ve been out the door ten minutes ago. Do you know how fast New York streets get crowded?”

Agatha laughed, stepping closer and resting her hands on Rio’s shoulders. “Relax. We’re going to make it, I promise.”

True to her word, they arrived at the theatre with an hour to spare.

Rio steered Agatha toward the bar next door, her arm resting lightly on Agatha’s lower back. Agatha cast her a sidelong glance, her lips twitching with amusement. “Remind me again what the rush was for?”

Rio rolled her eyes but didn’t give Agatha the satisfaction of acknowledging she was right.

Agatha paused as Rio held the door open and placed her hand on her chest in mock concern, “Are you sure we have time for a detour, we only have an hour before the show and I don’t know it could take us all that time to walk the…” she glanced over her shoulder to the theatre door calculating the distance “fifty feet next door?”

“Get inside before I hawk these to the highest bidder,” Rio groaned playfully swatting Agatha’s arm.

The cocktail bar was softly lit and like everything here was fully decorated for the season with garlands of holly winding around the polished wood beams. Agatha adjusted her cuffs of as she slid into the booth across from Rio, who looked stunning as she removed her long coat to reveal a sleek black dress. Her loose curls framed her face, and her laughter was easy as the waiter set their drinks down—an old-fashioned for Rio and a cranberry spritz for Agatha.

“To tonight,” Agatha said, raising her glass.

Rio smiled, the rim of her glass catching the light as she clinked it against Agatha’s. “To Wicked , and your Broadway debut as a theater critic.”

Agatha chuckled. “Me? A critic? What gave you that idea?”

They sipped in companionable silence for a moment, before Agatha glanced at Rio, her expression thoughtful.

“I know I’ve said it but thank you. This is all… wonderful. I haven’t had a holiday like this in a long time,” she said, her voice quieter now. “Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever had one quite like this.”

Rio tilted her head, her brows furrowing slightly. “What do you mean?”

Agatha swirled the drink in her glass, her gaze dropping for a moment. “Christmas as a kid was never a Norman Rockwell scene. Being a politician's wife meant never getting to spend it… just us. Then after, for a while, the holidays weren’t much of anything. Just me, trying to get through them. I’d put up a tree now and then, but… it’s different when there’s no one to share it with.”

Rio’s chest tightened. The thought of Agatha spending Christmas alone, year after year, stirred something fierce and protective in her.

“Well,” Rio said, her voice gentle but firm, “you’re sharing it now.” She reached across the table and rested her hand over Agatha’s, her touch grounding. “And I’ve been lucky. I’ve had some good ones. When my parents passed my Aunt and Uncle especially made sure I always had a place to go. But this one is better because of you. Just so you know.”

Agatha’s lips curved into a small, grateful smile, her eyes softening.

“Well, to a new best for both of us. Until next year,” she said, squeezing Rio’s hand.

The show itself was everything Agatha had promised it would be. Rio watched Agatha light up with each song, her enthusiasm contagious. By the time they left the theater, stepping into the crisp air, Rio had to admit it: she’d been thoroughly charmed.

“So, what’s the verdict?” Agatha asked as they strolled side by side down the bustling street, her cheeks flushed from both the cold and the excitement of the evening.

Rio smirked, tugging her coat tighter around herself. “It was good. Great, even. But I think it would’ve been better if they had just run away together at the end. You know, skipped all the drama.”

Agatha burst out laughing, tilting her head back as she did. “Of course you think that.”

“I’m just saying,” Rio teased. “Those witches had chemistry. Would’ve been a way happier ending.”

“You’re such a romantic,” Agatha said, her tone teasing but her eyes warm.

“Only for you,” Rio quipped, her grin widening.

Agatha rolled her eyes but didn’t let the smile leave her face as she reached for Rio’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

On Christmas Eve they took the subway to the apartment building where Rio's family lived. Rio followed behind Agatha in the narrow hallway. "Number seven that's the one." Rio hummed, placing her hand on the small of Agatha's back. "You ready?"

"Ready as I'm going to be," Agatha half laughed. She knocked on the door twice.

A little boy no older than ten opened the door, his face was confused as he peered up at Agatha. “Abuela, one of your bingo ladies is here!” 

“Hey! Watch your mouth!” Rio teased, stepping out from behind Agatha and scooping him up, tickling his sides as he giggled.

“Tia Rio!” He squealed as she hung him upside down. “Let me go!”

“Nope!” She laughed, hauling him over her shoulder. “I’m throwing you out. And I’m telling Santa you called my girlfriend a bingo lady.” She turned towards Agatha as she strode through the door. “What do you think? Is Luis on the naughty list?”

Agatha laughed as she followed her into the warm apartment. “You would know best dear, yours is always the first name listed.”

The apartment was bustling with activity, a warm hum of voices and clinking dishes filling the air. Rio finally set Luis down, ruffling his hair as he ran off laughing, only to be intercepted by a boy who looked exactly like him. They broke into an argument over something Agatha couldn’t catch, and Rio shook her head with an affectionate grin.

“That’s Luis and Mateo,” Rio explained, nodding toward the twins. “Little menaces, but they keep everyone entertained.”

As they moved deeper into the apartment, a man who shared Rio’s strong jawline and warm eyes turned from the couch, his arms open wide. “Rio! You’re here!”

“Uncle David!” Rio stepped forward, pulling him into a hug. “Long time no see. I missed you.”

“You missed our cooking,” he teased, patting her back.

“That too,” Rio replied with a laugh. She introduced Agatha, who shook hands with David and his wife, Ana, while the twins hovered nearby, obviously curious. Agatha crouched down to their level and smiled.

“You two must be Mateo and Luis,” she said. “Your Tia Rio warned me about you.”

The boys’ eyes widened, and Mateo shot Rio a betrayed look. “What did you say about us?”

Rio crossed her arms, mock-serious. “I told her the truth. That you’re nosy troublemakers.”

“No, we’re not!” Luis protested.

Ana shook her head, laughing as she bounced a baby on her hip. “Don’t listen to her, Agatha. They’re angels. Mostly. Any bad behavior is Rio’s influence”

Agatha stood and gave her a warm smile. “I believe you.”

“Come on,” Rio said after a while, taking Agatha’s hand. “Time to meet the boss of this place.”

Agatha followed Rio into the kitchen, where a tiny elderly woman, barely five feet tall, was stirring a pot on the stove, her silver hair pulled back into a neat bun. She turned as they entered, her face lighting up when she saw Rio.

“¡Mija!” she exclaimed, setting down the spoon and opening her arms.

Rio leaned down to hug her grandmother tightly, kissing her cheek. “Abuela, te traje a alguien para conocerte.” She gestured toward Agatha before repeating for her benefit, “I brought someone to meet you.”

Agatha smiled, unsure what to say as Rio’s grandmother looked her over appraisingly. After a moment, she said something in rapid Spanish, her expression both curious and amused.

Rio laughed, glancing at Agatha. “She wants to know if you’re my girlfriend.”

Agatha’s cheeks warmed, and she opened her mouth to respond, but Rio turned back to her grandmother, her voice softening. “Sí, Abuela. Mi cielo.”

The words were quiet, but they carried weight, and Agatha felt her chest tighten.

Rio’s grandmother smiled knowingly, patting Rio’s cheek before turning back to the stove. She said something else, and Rio laughed.

“She says you’re too skinny, that we both are” Rio explained, pulling Agatha closer to the counter. “And that we’ll be leaving here with enough leftovers to feed an army.”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Agatha said, her voice light, though her mind was still lingering on the way Rio had looked at her before.

The boys came barreling into the kitchen, one of them calling, “Rio! Rio! I want to show you my house!”

“No! I’m showing her mine first!” The other pouted, reaching for the Switch in his hand.

Rio stepped between them laughing. “You can both show me.”

“Okay, but only if you tell us which one you like better.” The first one challenged with a sly smile. The family resemblance was uncanny as he glanced at Agatha, “Do you play Minecraft?”

Agatha laughed, “Kid, I have no idea what that is. But if she won’t tell you whose house is better you boys come find me, I don’t know you well enough to lie to you.”

Rio’s laugh was warm, and she glanced at Agatha, “Gimme a second.”

Agatha smiled nervously before Rio pulled the boys to the table in the corner. She steadied herself as she saw Rio’s grandmother fix her with an appraising look. “You can cook?”

She nodded, “Yes. I do.”

This seemed to please the woman who took her hand and led to where little circles of dough were laid out on the corner. Agatha watched closely as she demonstrated adding a spoonful of meat to the center before folding the pastry over and pinching the edges. She then gestured to Agatha to try.

Agatha did her best to copy her, laughing softly as the woman corrected her crimping.

“Put to work already huh?” Rio teased, glancing over at them. “Told you she’s the boss.”

Agatha laughed as she tried her hand at another. “She’s made that clear. What am I making?”

“Pastellios. They’re pretty much the same thing as an empanada.”

Rio’s grandmother cut in waving a spoon at her, “Nina no! No son iguales! Estas loca?!”

She laughed and threw up in her hands in surrender, “I’ve been corrected. They are in no way equal. These are much better.”

Dinner was a lively, chaotic affair, with the table packed tightly to accommodate everyone. The twins argued over who got which plate, Ana gently scolded them while bouncing the baby on her knee, and David filled Rio’s plate with an exaggerated flourish, joking that she needed the strength to keep up with her new novia .

Agatha sat beside Rio, trying to keep up with the rapid conversation flying across the table. Every so often, Rio would lean over and quietly translate a joke or a comment, her voice low and warm in Agatha’s ear.

“So, Agatha,” Ana said with a polite smile, turning the conversation toward her. “Rio tells us you’re a business owner?”

“That’s right,” Agatha replied, setting down her fork. “I own a PR agency. We do image work. Helping keep scandals quiet and draft the perfect notes app apologies. We help people become the version of themselves that sells best. Stuff like that. It keeps me busy.”

“Not too busy to keep up with her I hope?” David teased, nodding toward Rio.

Agatha smiled. “She’s... a lot, but I manage.”

Rio shot her a mock-offended look. “I’m a delight, actually.”

“Sure, mija, ” Ana teased.

The attention turned back to Rio, with David asking, “So kiddo , what’s new with you? It’s been forever since you’ve been in town. A year?”

Rio leaned back in her chair, her smile softening. “I know, I know, too long. I’ve been alright. Work’s fine. But honestly? I’ve been a lot better since meeting Agatha. Lately, things are... amazing.”

Agatha blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in Rio’s voice. The table erupted in warm teasing and affectionate exclamations, and Ana gave Agatha an approving look.

“You’ve got her blushing,” Ana said to Agatha, laughing. “That’s a first.”

“I’ll take it as a win,” Agatha replied with a grin.

“I win at lots of stuff!” Mateo said as he tugged at Agatha’s sweater. “I’m the fastest at running in my class!”

“Are you now?” Agatha smiled and Rio felt like her heart would burst as she watched her show a softness that even she hadn’t seen before.

“I’m better at important stuff like science though!” Luis said, leaning around his brother’s shoulder and tapping on Agatha’s shoulder to make sure her attention was on him. Rio chuckled as she saw he’d left a small sticky handprint there. Agatha surely noticed immediately but didn’t say anything.

“Well, school is very important too! It’s good to be well rounded.” Agatha replied tapping her chin thoughtfully. 

“You should listen to her.” Rio said around a bite, “She is a very smart lady.”

“Smarter than you?”

The whole table laughed as Rio fondly shook her head. “You know your Tia Rio is super smart,” she began, “but Agatha is a genius.” She playful elbowed Agatha but when she caught her eye her smile was genuine.

“Genius.” The boys repeated the word in awe. “Like Iron Man?’

“Even better. I’m real .” Agatha teased.

David raised an eyebrow. “What about school, Rio? You ever think about finishing that degree?”

It always came up. Her family meant well, and no matter how many times she deflected, every year they asked again. But this time she didn’t make a quip or brush them off. Instead, Rio hesitated, glancing at Agatha briefly before nodding. “Actually... yeah. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. Going back, finishing what I started. You know, now that I’ve got a girlfriend with fancy tastes to keep happy.”

Agatha turned to her, surprised. “You didn’t tell me that.”

Rio shrugged, suddenly a little shy. “I was waiting for the right time.”

“That’s wonderful, mija, ” Ana said, her voice warm. “You should do it. You were always such a good writer.”

“Yeah,” David added. “And you’d set a good example for these two troublemakers.” He nodded toward the twins, who were now sneaking bites of dessert before anyone else.

They lingered around the table hours after the meal was finished, laughing and sharing stories. Rio was in her element, teasing the twins and holding the baby while Ana refilled everyone’s coffee. 

“Rio.” Her abuela called, holding out her arm.

“Hey, can you hold Rosie for a second?” Rio asked, turning to Agatha. “I’m going to help her get to bed.” She watched as Agatha’s expression widened for a split second before she nodded.

“Oh, uh, yeah sure.”

Rio gently placed the baby into Agatha’s arms before moving to her grandmother’s side and helping her to her room. 

When Rio walked back into the room, her heart stumbled at the sight of Agatha sitting with Rosie nestled in her arms. The earlier hesitation Rio had glimpsed was nowhere to be found. Instead, Agatha looked utterly at ease, cradling the baby as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

She was cooing softly, her voice light and musical, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. Rosie gazed up at her with wide, curious eyes, tiny fingers pulling at her hair. The sight was so achingly tender that it rooted Rio to the spot.

Agatha had always carried herself with a certain confidence—polished, poised, sometimes even intimidating. But this was different. This wasn’t the assured exterior Rio knew so well. It was soft, unguarded, and deeply genuine. It was also another new version of her, Rio hoped she’d never stop discovering new sides to this woman she loved.

Rio felt her chest tighten, a swell of emotions she couldn’t quite name surging inside her. Seeing Agatha like this, holding her niece with such quiet affection, stirred something primal and tender in her all at once.

She wanted to say something, to make a joke or tease her like she normally would, but words felt inadequate. Instead, she stayed in the doorway for a moment longer, drinking in the sight of Agatha in this rare, unguarded moment.

When Rosie let out a soft giggle, Agatha laughed too—a sound so pur that it felt like it reached into Rio's very core. In that moment, Rio could imagine her standing there forever, watching the woman she loved so effortlessly cradle the newborn. 

Rio had never given children much thought. But she wondered if Agatha had.

It was a long forgone conclusion that anything Agatha wanted, Rio would give to her.

As the evening wound down, David walked Agatha and Rio to the door, pulling Rio into a tight hug. “Don’t be a stranger, okay? And bring her back next time.”

“She’s a keeper,” Ana added with a smile, kissing Agatha on the cheek.

Agatha thanked them, her heart warm from their easy acceptance. As they stepped out into the cold night air, Rio took her hand the other carrying a bag loaded with leftovers, her smile soft.

“Well?” Rio asked as they walked through the hall towards the entrance of the building. “What’d you think?”

“They’re amazing,” Agatha said, her voice sincere. “I’ve never met a family that was… so close and made it look so easy.”

Rio grinned, giving her hand a squeeze. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

They kissed outside in the snow, and all the way back to their hotel.

Rio stretched lazily, her bare shoulder peeking out from under the blanket as she turned to face Agatha, who was already awake, propped up on one elbow, her hair delightfully mussed.

“Morning,” Rio said, her voice still husky with sleep.

“Morning,” Agatha replied, her smile soft and content.

Rio yawned, her lips curling into a mischievous smirk. “I hate to break it to you, but I’m fresh out of mistletoe. Think you’ll kiss me anyway?”

Agatha chuckled, leaning in without hesitation to press a gentle kiss to Rio’s lips. “Merry Christmas, my love,” she murmured as she pulled back, her voice warm and full of affection.

Rio’s eyebrows lifted, and her teasing grin returned. “ Love , huh? Big word for so early in the morning. You sure about that?”

Agatha rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t falter. “Of course I love you, Rio. Don’t be silly.”

For a moment, Rio just stared at her, the air between them charged with something tender. She’d known, of course. Agatha’s actions had always spoken volumes. But hearing it out loud, said so plainly, settled something in her chest she hadn’t realized was restless.

Rio’s expression softened, her teasing replaced with quiet sincerity. “I love you too,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Agatha’s eyes widened just slightly before her smile grew, bright and real. She leaned in again, resting her forehead against Rio’s, her hand coming up to cup Rio’s cheek. “Good,” she said lightly, but the emotion in her tone was unmistakable.

They stayed like that for a while, cocooned in the quiet intimacy of the moment. Outside, the city was alive with the muted sounds of Christmas morning, but in the cozy warmth of their room, time seemed to slow, leaving only the two of them.

“So,” Rio said eventually, her grin resurfacing. “Does this mean I’m officially off the naughty list?”

Agatha laughed, pulling the blanket over her head to block Rio out, though she couldn’t hide her smile. “No promises.”

Rio chuckled, tugging the blanket back down just enough to steal another kiss. “Worth a shot.”

The day unfolded like a dream, each moment filled with laughter, warmth, and the newfound ease of saying I love you . They said it freely over and over again like they’d forgotten themselves and ended up in a cheesy Hallmark movie.

Agatha sat on the edge of the hotel bed, scrolling idly on her phone when the door clicked open and Rio strode in with a triumphant grin and two steaming coffee cups in hand.

“Look who braved the elements for your caffeine addiction,” Rio teased, holding up the cups as if they were trophies.

Agatha stood, her smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You’re a hero,” she said, reaching for her drink.

Rio’s expression softened before morphing into a playful smirk. “Let’s see if you still feel that way after tasting it.”

Agatha took a sip and made a face. “You got your order for me.”

Rio snorted, setting her own coffee down before stepping closer. “You’re saying you don’t love whipped cream and sugar overload? C’mon, it’s Christmas!”

Agatha shook her head, but before she could respond, Rio leaned in and kissed the dollop of whipped cream from her lips, her grin widening.

“Not bad, right?” Rio teased, her voice low.

Agatha rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. “Fine. I love you and your terrible taste in coffee.”

“Damn right you do,” Rio quipped.

Later that afternoon, Rio convinced Agatha to go ice skating despite her mock protests. “Come on,” Rio coaxed, lacing up her skates with a determined glint in her eye. “What’s all that yoga for if not balance? You’re athletic, you’ll pick it up in no time. Plus, I’ll hold your hand. Because, you know, I love you.”

Agatha snorted but felt her heart flutter as Rio’s hand found hers. “If I fall and break something, I will never forgive you.”

“Deal,” Rio said, her smile mischievous.

Despite a few near falls, they managed to find their rhythm, skating hand in hand across the rink. Rio pulled Agatha into a spin that almost sent them both tumbling, their laughter echoing through the crisp winter air.

When they finally stepped off the ice, their cheeks flushed from the cold and exertion, Rio wrapped her arm around Agatha’s waist. “You’re a natural,” she said, pulling Agatha closer. “I love you, even if you were a little wobbly.”

“ A little? ” Agatha laughed. “I think I aged ten years out there.”

“Babe, so what if you did, you already know I’m into older women,” Rio shot back with a wink.

As the day wound down, they strolled through the city streets, stopping in front of the biggest Christmas tree Rio could find. The lights twinkled like stars against the evening sky, and Rio pulled her phone out, holding it up for a selfie.

“Smile,” Rio said, leaning in close.

They snapped the picture, Agatha’s arm around Rio’s shoulders and their faces lit with matching grins. Rio immediately opened her messages and sent the photo to Jen, adding a caption: Merry Christmas from the coolest couple in the city. Miss us yet?

“Did you just send that to Jen?” Agatha asked, amused.

“Of course,” Rio said, tucking her phone away and grinning. “She’s going to be so jealous.”

Agatha shook her head but couldn’t hide her smile as Rio kissed her cheek. “I love you,” Rio murmured, her voice softer now.

Agatha turned to look at her, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face. “I love you too. Let’s take another.

Rio took another and grinned as she reviewed it. Agatha had kissed her cheek just as she took the photo. Her face was slightly blurred but Rio saw herself with a grin she didn’t recognize. She knew she had felt this happy but she had never seen herself this way.

No wonder Jen called them disgusting all the time.

Agatha hummed in approval at the picture. “Send that one to me. I want it in my office.”

Rio blushed but sent her the picture, and then set it as her lockscreen for good measure.

On New Year’s Eve Agatha’s house was filled with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. Warm golden lights wrapped around the banister, music thumped softly in the background, and the scent of catered hors d'oeuvres mingled with the crisp evening air whenever the front door opened to admit another guest. Rio navigated through the living room, weaving between clusters of people chatting animatedly.

Her gaze flicked around the space, searching for a familiar head of dark hair.

“Hey there hot stuff.” Jen’s teasing voice cut through the din.

Rio turned, grinning when she saw her standing by the kitchen island, a glass of something pink and fizzy in her hand. She strutted over to her, doing a little spin to get Jen’s approval on her outfit. 

She’d gone for a shirtless blazer look very similar to what she’d worn at the wedding. Agatha had certainly approved. After she’d walked out of the bathroom wearing it and Agatha saw her the first time both it and Rio had swiftly ended up on the floor. At least Agatha had the courtesy to iron it for her (again).

“Lose someone?” Jen teased.

“I could ask you the same thing. You’re not usually without a crowd hanging on your every word.”

Jen smirked, gesturing dramatically around them. “They’ve been temporarily abandoned in favor of champagne. What about you? Where’s your other half?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Rio replied, craning her neck to scan the room again.

Jen raised an eyebrow, leaning closer. “If she’s hiding from her own party, you better go rescue her before she starts plotting how to sneak everyone out before it even hits midnight.”

Rio laughed, giving her friend a mock salute. “On it.”

As she moved toward the hallway leading to the back of the house, she nearly bumped into a petite woman with a sleek bob and a sharp smile.

“Rio!” Priya exclaimed, her tone warm and teasing as she stepped into her path. “You’re looking very hostess-y tonight. Is this going to be a yearly thing? Because I could get used to this level of hospitality.”

Rio chuckled, shaking her head. “I think Agatha might kill me if I suggested that. She barely agreed to this one.”

Priya’s grin widened. “You’d survive. She’s got a soft spot for you.”

Rio couldn’t help but smile at that, ducking her head slightly. “Yeah, well, don’t let her hear you say that. We've got mixed company here so she’s trying to maintain her 'mysterious host’ vibe tonight. You haven’t seen her have you?”

“Not since Lucas asked something about when she was going to make an honest woman out of you,” Priya said with a wink, stepping aside. “Good luck finding her.”

“Thanks,” Rio replied, already moving toward the back door as she blushed.

She stepped outside and immediately spotted Agatha leaning against the railing, her breath visible in the chilly night air. A half-empty glass of wine dangled loosely from her fingers as she gazed up at the star-dotted sky, her shoulders relaxing in the quiet. 

“There you are,” Rio said softly, stepping onto the patio.

Agatha glanced over her shoulder, her lips curving into a small smile. “Needed a breather.”

“Figured,” Rio said, closing the distance between them. She leaned on the railing beside Agatha, bumping her shoulder gently. “Priya’s already trying to turn this into an annual thing, by the way.”

Agatha laughed, low and warm. “Of course she is.”

Rio studied her for a moment, the way the string lights from inside illuminated the contours of her face, making her look softer, more vulnerable. “You okay?”

Agatha turned to her, her smile tilting wryly. “I’m good. It’s just... a lot, you know?”

Rio nodded, understanding. “You’ve outdone yourself, though. Everyone’s having a great time.”

Agatha’s gaze softened as it met Rio’s. “Including you?”

“Definitely,” Rio said, leaning in slightly. “Though I was worried for a minute that you’d skipped town.”

Agatha laughed again, setting her glass on the railing. “Not a chance. I’d miss this.”

Rio tilted her head, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Miss what?”

Agatha reached out, her hand resting lightly on Rio’s arm. “You.”

Rio smiled, her chest tightening as she leaned in to press a soft kiss to Agatha’s lips. “You know,” she murmured against her, “you don’t have to hide out here just to get me alone.” 

She pulled Agatha’s arms to wrap around her. “C’mere. I don’t want to ruin the moment, and I know you like this outfit, but I’m freezing my tits off.

Agatha chuckled, pulling her closer against her chest. “We can’t have that.”

The sound of the party drifted faintly through the door behind them, but at that moment, it felt like they were in their own little world, the chaos of the evening melting away.

There was a loud chorus of cheers signaling that it was moments before midnight. The chill in the air was biting, but neither of them moved to go back inside.

“You know,” Rio began, her voice low but playful, “it’s almost midnight.”

Agatha tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “Is that your subtle way of telling me you want a kiss?”

Rio grinned, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe. It’s also my subtle way of telling you I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”

Agatha’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Never?”

“Nope,” Rio said, popping the “p” with a smirk. “Which is wild, right? Because, clearly, I’m very kissable.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her amusement. “Very subtle.”

“Hey,” Rio said, her tone turning slightly more serious, “you’ve made it pretty clear you’re not big on PDA, so I didn’t think it’d be fair to drag you into the middle of all that chaos in there.” She gestured toward the house with a tilt of her head.

Agatha crossed her arms, giving her an amused look. “And you think out here is different?”

Rio shrugged, her smirk softening into something more earnest. “We’re alone. Just us.”

For a moment, Agatha just stared at her, the teasing glint in her eyes giving way to something warmer, more tender.

“You’re impossible,” she said finally, her voice soft as she stepped closer.

“And yet, you’re still here,” Rio replied, tilting her head toward Agatha with a smile that made her heart skip.

From inside, they could hear the faint chant beginning to rise: “ Ten! Nine! Eight !”

Rio glanced toward the door, then back at Agatha. “It’s now or never.”

Agatha chuckled, shaking her head. “Because you want me to.”

Rio’s grin was wide as she straightened, her eyes locked on Agatha. “Three! Two! One!”

The cheers from inside erupted into a cacophony as the clock struck midnight, but the world seemed to still when Agatha leaned in, cupping Rio’s cheek and pressing her lips to hers.

“Happy New Year,” she murmured, her voice barely audible over the lingering sounds of celebration from inside.

Agatha smiled, brushing her thumb lightly across Rio’s cheek. “Happy New Year, my love.”

Rio closed her eyes for a moment, letting the words settle over her like a blanket of warmth. Then she leaned back just enough to catch Agatha’s gaze.

“Best one yet,” she said with a lopsided smile.

Agatha laughed softly, pulling her back in for another kiss. “I’d have to agree.”

“You know,” Rio whispered conspiratorly, “there’s an old wives tale that whatever you do on New Year’s Day is what you’re going to do all year long.”

“Hm.” Agatha hummed, acting bored even though her smile gave her away. “Whatever could you mean.”

Rio grinned, “Let’s get out of here and I’ll show you.”

“Darling, have you overdone the champagne? I’m very sorry to inform you but this is my house,” she chuckled.

“I’m on it. Come on.” Rio grinned, tugging Agatha’s hand.

Rio led Agatha upstairs, barely containing her giddiness as they snuck into Agatha's bedroom. As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Rio spun around, capturing Agatha’s lips in a heated kiss. They stumbled toward the bed, laughing softly against each other between kisses, trying—and mostly failing—to stay quiet.

Agatha pushed Rio onto the bed with a grin, following after her, but before things could escalate too far, Rio groaned softly remembering the crowd of people downstairs.

“Hang on, two seconds,” she muttered, pulling her phone out of her pocket.

Agatha raised an eyebrow indignantly, sitting back on her heels. “You’re on your phone now? You’re the one who drug me up here.”

Rio snorted, shaking her head as she tapped out a quick message to Jen.

Hey, I need you to clear out the house.  

Why?? It’s still early.

Jen I’m begging you. As a true ride-or-die best friend, I need you to help me out here.

...Help you with what?

Rio didn’t reply, and after a beat, another two messages came through.

Oh.
OH.

After a moment, she heard the muffled sounds of Jen clapping her hands and raising her voice.

“All right, everyone! Party’s over! Let’s wrap it up!”

Agatha tilted her head, smirking as they listened to the commotion downstairs. “That was fast. Do I want to know what you said to her?”

Rio grinned. “Probably not. Just know we owe Jen something really nice.”

“Hey!” Jen’s voice carried faintly up the stairs. “Who brought this mystery dip? Take it with you, or it’s going in the trash!”

Another voice protested, “It’s not a mystery! It’s spinach artichoke!”

“Great! Spinach artichoke trash! Let’s go people!”

Agatha bit her lip to keep from laughing too loudly as Rio leaned back on the bed, shaking with silent mirth.

They could hear more shuffling and Jen's escalating dramatics. “Keys! Coats! Significant others! One night stands! Grab them all! If you’re not out that door in two minutes, I’m throwing you into the driveway myself!”

Someone called out, “Jen, it’s snowing!”

“I don’t care if it’s a blizzard! Trust me I’m doing you a favor, this is no longer the place to be, time to go”

Agatha collapsed beside Rio, burying her face in her shoulder to stifle her laughter. “Your friend is insane.”

“She’s a fucking hero,” Rio whispered, tears of laughter in her eyes.

Finally, they heard the front door open and shut repeatedly as people filtered out. After another minute, Jen’s voice rang out again.

“Happy New Year! Drive safe! Scram!”

Silence settled over the house.

Rio shot Jen one last text.

Jen you are a goddess and I love you. I owe you big.

You owe me more than big. I deserve a medal. Please give me two minutes to get out the door before you get freaky. I don’t need to be more traumatized than I already am.

Rio laughed set her phone aside and turned back to Agatha with a wicked grin.

“Well?” she said, wrapping her arms around her lover’s waist and pulling her close. “Problem solved.”

Agatha shook her head, laughing softly before leaning down to kiss her again. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Insatiable even” Rio murmured against her lips.

Agatha smiled. “Indeed. So what is it that you want to do all year long?”

"Don't worry, I've got a list."

Chapter Text

Rio muttered under her breath, shoving a pile of mail off the counter in her increasingly frantic search. “Where the hell is it?”

Jen watched from the couch, her mug of coffee balanced on her knee. “You sure your wallet isn't at Agatha’s place?”

Rio froze mid-step, turning to glance at her roommate. “Why would it be at Agatha’s?”

Jen raised an eyebrow. “Because everything ends up at Agatha’s. Like your spare phone charger, the sweater you ‘lost,’ and half your dignity.”

Rio rolled her eyes, though her shoulders slumped slightly. “I mean… maybe. But I swear I had it here.”

Jen sipped her coffee, watching as Rio began rifling through the sofa cushions. “While we’re on the topic,” she started casually, “we need to talk about the lease.”

Rio stilled, looking up warily. “What about it?”

“It’s up at the end of the month,” Jen said, her tone pointed. “What’s your plan? Have you and Agatha talked about, you know, moving in together?”

Rio let out a laugh, loud and sharp. “Uh, no Jen. I haven’t invited myself to come live in another woman’s house like some kind of cliche U-haul lesbian.”

Jen smirked. “You’ve thought about it though, right?”

Rio opened her mouth to retort but stopped short. Her face betrayed her for a fraction of a second before she shook her head. “Nope. Hasn’t even crossed my mind.”

“Liar,” Jen teased, leaning back and crossing her arms. “I’ve seen the way you owned the place at her party. You’re already halfway moved in emotionally. You spent a week and a half over there at Christmas. You, not Agatha, you asked me to get everyone to leave the house on New Year’s Eve so you could bone. Which by the by, you guys did not wait for me to get out of earshot and I learned way more about you than I needed to.”

Rio groaned, covering her face with her hands. “Okay, first of all, gross.”

“Gross. You’re calling me gross ? To be clear, I’m not kink-shaming you. You do you. But I did not need to know that my best friend likes toー”

“Second!” Rio interrupted her face verging on bright red, “None of that means I’m about to pack up my life and move in with her.”

Jen’s smirk widened. “Uh-huh. Keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious!” Rio dropped her hands and shot her roommate a glare. “Agatha and I are… good. Really good. But we’re not there yet.”

“Sure, sure.” Jen took another slow sip of her coffee, clearly enjoying herself. “But when you do get there, and you will  maybe give me a heads-up. I’d like to know if I need to start interviewing new roommates.”

Rio shook her head, rolling her eyes as she resumed her search for her wallet. “You’re impossible.”

Jen’s voice softened slightly, her teasing edge replaced by something more genuine. “You know I’m just messing with you, right? But seriously, Rio,, if moving in together is something you’ve thought about, it’s not the end of the world to actually talk to her about it. You two are solid. You’d figure it out.”

Rio paused, her fingers stilling as she lifted a couch cushion. The thought had crossed her mind, sure. More than once. But every time it did, she’d shoved it aside. Things were good as they were—why risk rocking the boat?

And yet, Jen wasn’t wrong. She did feel at home at Agatha’s place. She tried not to linger on that thought, but her mind betrayed her, wandering back to all the moments she’d felt utterly at peace in the quiet domestic comfort of Agatha’s home.

She thought about lazy mornings when Agatha handed her a cup of tea, their hands brushing as she murmured, “Just how you like it.” She remembered sprawled-out movie nights, their feet and legs tangled under the blanket on the couch. And then there was that stupid fight over how to load the dishwasher. Neither of them had been willing to budge—Agatha insistent on efficiency, Rio arguing for her “method”—until she’d finally thrown up her hands and said, “Fine, I’ll just hand wash the dishes when it’s my turn!”

It was ridiculous, but somehow, the memory brought a smile to her face. It had been so easy, so comfortable, even when they were bickering like a couple who’d been together for years.

Jen snapped her fingers in front of Rio’s face, jolting her back to reality. “Rio. You’re daydreaming again.”

Rio swatted her hand away, her cheeks flushing slightly. “Shut up.”

“You need to talk to your girl about this,” Jen said, her tone softening just slightly. “If you’ve thought about it, then maybe she has too. But you’ll never know if you don’t ask.”

Rio shrugged, turning back to her search. “I don’t know, Jen. We’ll see”

Jen gave her a knowing look but didn’t push further. “Whatever you say,” she said, setting her mug down. “Let me know if you want me to practice my totally shocked face for when you tell me the movers are coming by.”

Rio rolled her eyes but couldn’t stop her mind from drifting back to the idea of waking up in Agatha’s house every day—not as a visitor in her house, but in their home.

A few days later she was still trying to figure out how to bring up the subject to Agatha.

Rio kicked at the pavement, glancing up at the large windows of Agatha’s house. She’d arrived ten minutes ago but hadn’t worked up the nerve to go in yet. The last few days had been filled with a long back-and-forth argument with herself— Should I bring it up? Would she even want me here full-time? What if it’s too soon?

She exhaled sharply, giving herself a little shake. You’re overthinking it. Just talk to her.

Finally, she let herself in with the key Agatha had given her, and she could smell something wafting from the kitchen.

“Hey,” Rio said, her voice unusually soft as she dropped her bag by the door.

Agatha looked up, her face breaking into a warm smile. “Hey yourself. You’re just in time. I’m making stroganoff.”

Rio smirked, walking into the kitchen. “You’re spoiling me.”

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” Agatha teased, setting the tray on the counter. “Drink?”

“Sure,” Rio replied, leaning against the counter. She watched Agatha move around the kitchen with easy confidence, and something about the domesticity of it all made her chest ache—in a good way.

As Agatha poured two glasses, Rio blurted out, “So, uh, Jen and I were talking about our lease the other day.”

“Oh?” Agatha said, handing Rio a mug and raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Rio said, feeling her palms sweat against her glass. “It’s up at the end of the month, and, uh… I was thinking.” She paused, trying to gauge Agatha’s reaction.

Agatha took a sip of her tea, her expression calm but curious. “Thinking about what?”

Rio cleared her throat. “Well, about, maybe… us. I mean, me. Moving in. Here. With you.”

Agatha’s lips twitched, her tone immediately teasing. “Moving in huh? Presumptuous, aren’t we?”

Rio blinked, her cheeks flushing. “I—what? I wasn’t trying to—”

Agatha cut her off with a playful smirk. “Relax. You’ve already moved in, haven’t you? You’ve had a key for weeks. Half of my laundry is your stuff, don’t think I haven’t noticed that. We’ve never stayed at your place. I thought you’d figured it out by now.”

Rio straightened, a faint edge creeping into her voice. “If you don’t want me here, just say so. I’ll find a new place with Jen—it’s not a big deal.”

Agatha’s eyes softened, and she set her glass down, crossing the small distance between them. “Hey, I’m teasing,” she said, placing a hand on Rio’s arm. “Of course, I want you here.”.

Rio huffed a laugh, finally relaxing. “Seriously, you’re okay with this?”

Agatha kissed her cheek before returning to the pot simmering on the stove. “More than okay. I love having you here, Rio. I was just waiting for you to realize you’d already made yourself at home.”

Rio’s heart swelled in her chest and she smiled. “Okay. I guess I’ll need to packー”

“Please. Movers dear. I’ll take care of it.” Agatha quickly interjected, “But if you are moving in, we should set some ground rules.”

“More rules we’ll inevitably break? I thought were past that.” Rio smirked.

Agatha arched an elegant brow as she stirred the pot. “These are house rules . If you’re going to live here, there are standards to maintain.”

She crossed her arms, leaning against the counter with a grin. “Alright, lay it on me.”

Agatha turned off the stove and began ticking items off on her fingers. “First, the dishwasher.”

Rio groaned and pressed her head into the counter.

But Agatha was undeterred. “Efficient loading only—plates by size, cups upside down, utensils sorted by type. None of your ‘chaotic neutral’ nonsense.”

Rio snorted. “Fine.”

“Lovely. Second, the thermostat is non-negotiable. I refuse to sweat in my own home I don’t care if it’s more ‘energy efficient’. Temperature stays at 70 tops. If you’re cold, there are blankets.”

“That’s fair,” Rio said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “As long as I’m not the one paying the electric bill. But we should talk about that laterーdon’t roll your eyes! I want to contribute! Anything else?”

Agatha hesitated, her lips twitching as if suppressing a laugh. “Peanut butter goes in the cupboard, not the fridge. It’s… offensive.”

“Offensive? To who?”

“To me,” Agatha said simply, with a tone so matter-of-fact it left no room for argument.

Rio shook her head, her grin widening. “You really thought all this through, didn’t you?”

“I like my home a certain way,” Agatha said airily, turning back to her pot. “And don’t act like you’re not thrilled that I’ve already fallen in line and accepted some of your little habits.”

Rio blinked. “My habits?”

Agatha gestured vaguely with a wooden spoon. “The hoodies left on the back of my chair, the boots just strewn wherever in the entryway, you dropping your bag on the floor when you come in even though there’s a perfectly good hook right there, the way my pantry now is filled with snacks I’d never buy in a million years.” She smirked at Rio and raised an eyebrow. “I can go on.”

She laughed, stepping behind her to wrap her arms around Agatha’s waist. “You love it, don’t lie.”

Agatha tilted her head, a smile playing at her lips. “I’ll admit, it’s… sometimes endearing. But I still haven’t forgiven you for staining the decorative kitchen towels.”

She kissed her cheek, grinning. “Agatha, we’ve been over this. How was I supposed to know I wasn’t supposed to use the convenient towel hanging in the kitchen and that I was supposed to go find a different one buried in a drawer.”

Agatha chuckled, leaning into her. “Well, now you know. There are towels for show and towels for use. This is my house, remember?”

Rio tightened her hold slightly, resting her chin on Agatha’s shoulder. “Our house.”

Agatha froze for a moment before her expression softened. She leaned back into Rio and murmured, “Yes, our house.”

“Okay. Well, I have some requests too.”

Agatha turned, arching a brow at Rio. “This should be good. Let’s hear it, then. What egregious offenses am I guilty of in my own home?”

Rio grinned, stepping back to lean casually against the counter. “First off, your impressive collection of half-sipped drinks. Water glasses, tea mugs, coffee cups—it’s like a little scavenger hunt every time I go to clean up.”

Agatha responded by rolling her eyes. “I’m a busy woman. Sometimes I get distracted.”

“Distracted? Half the time, there’s less than a sip left—just the ghost of a beverage haunting me.”

Her partner huffed, crossing her arms. “I’ll work on it. Sue me for wanting to be hydrated. What else?”

“Your makeup,” Rio said, her grin widening. “Stains. Everywhere. The bathroom counter, the mirror, towels—I swear, I even found some on the doorknob once.”

Agatha’s eyes narrowed, though her lips twitched with amusement. “That’s impossible.”

“Is it?” Rio countered, cocking an eyebrow. “How does any make it onto your face?”

Agatha tilted her chin up with mock indignation. “You know, this feels less like constructive feedback and more like you keeping score.”

She shrugged, still grinning. “I’m just saying if we’re pointing out bad habits—”

Agatha held up a hand to cut her off. “Alright, that’s enough. You’ve made your point. And for the record, I agreed to you moving in with me, not sharing a bathroom.”

Rio blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

Agatha gestured toward the hall. “The guest bathroom. It’s all yours. Trust me on this one—you’ll be much happier.”

“Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” Agatha replied, her tone light but her expression firm. “It’ll save us from at least three arguments a week. You can decorate it however you want, stock whatever weird snacks you like in there—”

“Snacks?” Rio interrupted, laughing. “What kind of weirdo eats in the bathroom?”

“I don’t know what you do in your free time,” Agatha teased with a smirk. “But the point is, it’s yours. Consider it my housewarming gift.”

Rio shook her head, still laughing. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Believe it. And I reserve the right to add new house rules. God only knows what else you do when I’m not around,” Agatha said, turning back to the stove with a satisfied smile.

Rio watched her for a moment, then sighed dramatically. “Fine. But if you think I’m not coming in to use your fancy mirror when I need it, you’re delusional.”

“Fair compromise,” Agatha said over her shoulder. “Just don’t touch the lipstick. It’s not your shade.”

Rio chuckled, stepping forward to wrap her arms around Agatha again. “Deal.”

Boxes were packed. Movers were called. Jen was vindicated.

 Within a week Rio and all her possessions were a permanent fixture in Agatha’s home.

Their home.

They settled into the rhythm of living together surprisingly easy. 

At first, Rio worried about the transition—she’d heard enough horror stories about couples moving in together too soon and unraveling. But with Agatha, everything seemed to click. Their routines overlapped in ways that felt natural, not forced.

Mornings started with Agatha brewing coffee before leaving for work. She got up before Rio did and rarely woke her in the process. But eventually, Rio would wake up to the smell of coffee in the air, a cup of tea in an insulated mug on the nightstand waiting for her, and occasionally a post-it note with something sickeningly sweet scrawled on it. She was building quite a collection of little love notes left by Agatha in her sock drawer.

In the evenings, they cooked together. Agatha loved experimenting with recipes, while Rio was happy to chop, stir, and sneak bites of whatever was being made. They danced around each other with practiced ease, sharing laughs and kisses in between seasoning debates. 

Their quirks, which might have grated on anyone else, became inside jokes. And their annoying habits were tolerated by each other with a healthy dose of snarky banter and exaggerated eye rolls.

Things were good.

A few weeks after moving in, Rio got home after her closing shift a little past midnight. She wasn’t surprised that the light was on in the office. It wasn’t unusual for Agatha to wait up for her, claiming to be working even though she conveniently wrapped up as soon as Rio walked in the door.

What was surprising was the distinct grassy smell in the air.

She hooked her bag by the door before heading upstairs. The office door was shut so she knocked twice before entering.

“Come in,” Agatha called, her voice slightly strained.

Rio pushed the door open, stopping short when she saw Agatha curled up in the bay window, her knees pulled to her chest, a silk robe wrapped around her. A faint haze hung in the air, and the scent of weed was unmistakable. In her hand was a lit joint, a lazy curl of smoke rising toward the ceiling.

Rio raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Well, well, well. Didn’t expect you to be a secret stoner.”

Agatha startled, looking flustered as she quickly stubbed the joint against the edge of the ashtray. “It’s medicinal!”

Rio snorted, walking closer with a smirk. “Relax, I’m not judging. I’m just annoyed you’ve been holding out on me.”

Agatha gave her a pointed look, her cheeks pink. “I don’t do this often.”

“Sure, sure,” Rio teased, plopping down on the window seat next to her. “And I’m a saint. Pass it over.”

Agatha hesitated for a moment before sighing and passing the joint to Rio. She placed it between her lips before raising her eyebrows and leaning forward instead of taking the lighter from Agatha’s hand. Her partner rolled her eyes before lighting it for her.

Rio grinned, taking a slow drag and exhaling the smoke out the open window. “Shit. This is pretty good. Now I actually am annoyed at you holding out on me”

Agatha huffed but couldn’t hide the faint smile tugging at her lips. She took it back, drawing in another puff before blowing the smoke out in a long exhale. “You know I only buy the best.”

“Uh-huh,” Rio said, leaning back against the wall. “So, what brought this on? Stress? Boredom? Sudden urge to relive your rebellious teenage years?”

Agatha gave her a sideways glance, her lips quirking in amusement. “Couldn’t sleep.”

Rio raised an eyebrow. “And this was plan B?”

“Better than pacing the halls all night,” Agatha said defensively, her tone light. “I thought it might help me unwind.”

Rio chuckled, taking another hit before passing it back. “Well, it looks like it worked. You seem pretty unwound to me.”

Agatha shrugged, pulling her robe tighter around her shoulders. “I’m getting there”

Rio studied her for a moment, her teasing smile softening. “You okay, though? For real?”

Agatha nodded, her expression thoughtful. “Yeah. Just… my mind wouldn’t settle tonight. Too many thoughts bouncing around.”

“Anything you want to talk about?” Rio offered gently.

Agatha shook her head, her gaze drifting out the window. “Nothing serious. Just thinking.”

Rio nodded but didn’t pry. She’d found that Agatha shared most of her thoughts if she was patient. And she was in no hurry. They had time.

“About you. I’m usually thinking about you.” Agatha said with a shy smile.

“Ooh. Tell me more. I love hearing how great I am.” Rio teased, leaning forward and raising her eyebrows playfully.

“I was thinking about how nice it is to have an exceptionally modest girlfriend,” she deadpanned.

Rio laughed before turning around in the window seat, leaning back as Agatha crossed her legs and let her head fall into her lap.

Immediately Agatha’s fingers were playing with the ends of her hair and gently scratching her scalp. “Woah your hair is super soft.” She murmured, staring down at Rio with a lazy smile.

Rio beamed at her, lightly shaking her head as she chuckled. “Oh boy. You’re the get touchy-feely kind of high aren’t you.”

“I always want to be touching you.” Agatha teased back, running her fingers lightly under Rio’s jaw.

Rio licked her lip and reached up to cup Agatha’s cheek. “Me too,” she’d been going for teasing but her voice came out earnest.

“Do you know what today is?” Agatha hummed playing with her hair.

Rio frowned as she thought. “Tuesday?”

Agatha laughed lowly. “Well, yeah. But it’s also six months since we met.”

Her heart fluttered in her chest. She hadn’t realized. But Agatha had.

“Oh,” she breathed, feeling her cheeks pink. Rio could feel her eyes water a little and she laughed as she was surprised by her own rush of emotions.

“Mhm,” Agatha smiled, stroking her thumb over her cheek. “It feels like… a lifetime ago. I know that it wasn’t that long. But everything has just felt…”

“Like a dream.” Rio supplied, turning her head to nuzzle against her lap. She noticed that a sliver of her thigh was showing, the inner part with the dimple she liked. Lazily she pressed a kiss to the spot.

Agatha hummed softly, threading her hand through Rio’s hair. “C’mon. Let’s go to bed. If we wait longer… or stay here my back will regret it in the morning.”

Rio laughed and stood before pulling Agatha with her. She kissed her softly before shutting the window.

Agatha was a vision. Her life was a dream.

Agatha led them to bed. And Rio would always gladly follow her anywhere.

Rio cursed as a number of items came spilling out of the medicine cabinet. Agatha had been right to insist on separate bathrooms, she hated how disorganized Agatha’s was. She’d only come looking for extra toothpaste and instead was caught picking up the hoard of makeup sponges, hair ties, and contact solution that came spilling out of the cabinet.

As she checked under the sink for any other items lost in the avalanche she found an orange pill bottle that had rolled into the corner. That hadn’t been there last time. Before she could tell her self not to look, her curiosity betrayed her.

The prescription name was an unfamiliar one, she didn’t take long enough to read it fully as Agatha called “You alright in there?”

“ Fine. Didn’t I just organize this cabinet for you?” she yelled back, trying to keep her tone light.

“I like to give you plenty of enrichment activities.”

Rio managed a laugh but her stomach sank. Medication? What for? She returned the bottle to its place and grabbed the toothpaste, but her mind was already spiraling. She shook her head once and then twice. Don’t be silly. Stop overthinking. Things are good. Don’t go looking for problems. Probably just more of Agatha’s fancy vitamins. Nothing to worry about.

She didn’t worry. Not until a week later when her always punctual, always early, partner was twenty minutes late for their dinner reservation. Rio was starting to resent the pitying look she was getting from her waiter who clearly believed she was being stood up.

Rio tapped her phone on the table, the glow from the screen illuminating her furrowed brow. She checked the time again: twenty-two minutes late now. She forced a tight smile at the waiter when he walked by, carrying a tray of steaming plates to another table.

Her stomach churned, but not from hunger. Agatha was never late. Not without texting, not without a quick, breezy excuse that made Rio roll her eyes but secretly appreciate how thoughtful she was. Tonight? Radio silence.

The waiter lingered nearby, clearly waiting for Rio to either order or admit defeat. She was seconds away from texting Agatha again when the door to the restaurant swung open, and there she was.

Agatha strode in, cheeks flushed from the chill, her coat unbuttoned and scarf trailing loose. Her hair looked hastily smoothed back, and she offered an apologetic smile as she approached.

"I am so sorry," Agatha said, shrugging out of her coat and draping it over her chair. She leaned in to kiss Rio’s cheek, her warmth brushing against Rio’s cool skin. "My doctor’s appointment ran over, and traffic was a nightmare after."

Rio blinked, her stomach doing a little flip at the mention of the doctor. "It’s fine," she said quickly, trying to sound breezy. "I was starting to think you stood me up, though."

Agatha chuckled as she settled into her seat. "Not a chance. I’d never miss a chance to see you in that jacket," she teased, gesturing to her outfit. "You clean up nice, honey."

Rio’s lips twitched into a small smile, but the words didn’t land the way they normally would. Her mind snagged on doctor’s appointment. What for? Why not mention it before? Was it just a check-up?

Agatha was already reaching for the menu, flipping it open as if nothing were amiss. Rio forced herself to match Agatha’s energy, though her thoughts kept circling back to the unanswered questions.

She cleared her throat, leaning forward slightly. "Everything okay? With the doctor, I mean."

Agatha glanced up, the faintest flicker of surprise crossing her face before she smiled again. "Oh, yeah. Just routine stuff." She waved a hand dismissively and returned her attention to the menu. "So, what’s good here? I’m starving."

That was it. No elaboration, no details. Rio nodded, pretending to focus on her own menu, but her mind was elsewhere. If it were important, she’d say more. Right? She definitely would.

The rest of the dinner passed pleasantly enough—Agatha charmed the waiter with her usual wit, and Rio managed to laugh at the right moments. But beneath the surface, Rio’s nerves buzzed. She replayed Agatha’s words in her head, searching for hidden meanings or clues she might’ve missed.

When they got home, Agatha disappeared into the bathroom to change, leaving Rio in the living room to stare blankly at the TV. Her chest tightened as her mind spun in darker directions. What if it wasn’t routine? What if she was hiding something serious? Something she didn’t think Rio could handle?

The next morning, Rio woke before Agatha and shuffled into the bathroom, her own facewash was running dangerously low. Without thinking, she opened Agatha’s cabinet, and there it was again: the orange pill bottle.

Her fingers hovered over it before she snatched the facewash and closed the cabinet with a sharp snap.

"Don’t do this," she muttered under her breath. "Don’t go looking for problems."

But as the days passed, the unease festered. Rio found herself watching Agatha more closely, studying her for signs she might not be okay. She wanted to ask but couldn’t bring herself to pry. What if Agatha shut her out entirely?

The doubt, the fear, and the memories of past losses settled heavily on her chest. Agatha wasn’t just her partner; she was the center of Rio’s carefully reconstructed world.

And Rio couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling that, piece by piece, that world was starting to show cracks.

She wouldn’t pry. She wouldn’t. They had been doing so well, communicating better than ever, and talking things through. Real shit too, in six months since meeting they’d been through… a lot. When the time was right Agatha would talk to her she knew she would.

Agatha’s phone rang and Rio carried it to the bathroom door. “Babe,” she called over the noise of the shower. “You’re phone’s ringing.”

“Answer it for me, please! I’ll be right out.”

Rio answered the call, “Hi there, you’ve reached… not Agatha she’ll be right here, can I let her know who’s calling?”

“Yes, this is Nancy from Dr. Hart’s office, we’re just calling to confirm her procedure tomorrow.”

There it was. The other shoe.

“Right, I uh… oh here she is.” She passed Agatha the phone, not even playfully glancing at her wrapped up in a towel. 

Rio took a deep breath and stepped out of the room. She forced her feet to keep moving, she walked down the stairs. They carried her out the front door.

When she reached the front stoop, she realized she’d been holding her breath and took in a gasp. A procedure. Agatha was having a medical procedure. Tomorrow. And Rio knew absolutely nothing about it.

Rio paced the stoop, the cold air biting at her cheeks and bare arms. Her breath came in shallow gasps as her mind raced, unraveling every possible thread of the conversation she’d just had. A procedure. Tomorrow. Agatha hadn’t mentioned a thing.

She pressed her palms to her face, her fingers trembling. She wanted to believe it was nothing—something routine or unimportant—but her gut twisted with doubt. Agatha’s secrecy loomed large, an unspoken barrier between them.

Why wouldn’t she tell me?

Her thoughts flickered back to all the little moments in the past few weeks. The late appointment. The medication. She had brushed it off as vitamins, but what if it wasn’t?

A sharp pang hit her chest, frustration bubbling up beneath the worry. Why wouldn’t she trust me?

Rio sank onto the stoop, her elbows resting on her knees as her hands raked through her hair. Agatha had been so real with her lately—open, vulnerable, and present. This performance, the cheery facade that glossed over the truth, felt like a slap. Does she think I’m stupid?

It reminded her too much of a time when they hadn’t been as close, back when Agatha had kept her walls high and Rio had been left guessing. She’d thought they were past that. She’d thought they’d built something stronger.

But this? This silence felt calculated. And in a twisted way, Rio considered, maybe Agatha thought she was protecting her. Maybe, in her mind, she was sparing Rio from something heavy, something painful.

The thought didn’t soothe her. If anything, it hurt more.

Rio clenched her fists, staring out at the empty street. The cool air helped her steady her breath, but it didn’t slow the thrum of her thoughts. This wasn’t like her. Agatha was bold and direct—she always had been. So why, or what, was she hiding?

She wanted to storm back inside and demand answers, but she knew that wouldn’t get her anywhere. Agatha would retreat further, and Rio couldn’t stomach that.

Instead, she forced herself to breathe. Slowly, deeply. She stood, shaking out her arms, trying to release the tension coiling tight in her chest.

When she walked back inside, the house was warm and quiet. Agatha was in the kitchen, tying the belt of her robe as she poured herself a glass of water. She glanced up when Rio entered, her expression softening into a smile.

“Hey, everything okay?” Agatha asked, her tone light but cautious.

Rio nodded, her throat tightening. She didn’t trust herself to speak, not yet. She crossed the room and leaned against the counter, her fingers tracing patterns on the smooth surface.

Rio looked at Agatha. She swallowed hard and forced herself to keep her voice even. “So. Dr. Hart’s office.”

Agatha froze for a fraction of a second, but it was enough. Rio caught it—the flicker of something in her eyes, quickly masked by a casual sip of water.

“Oh,” Agatha said. “Yeah, they were just confirming my appointment.”

Her voice was too smooth, too practiced. Rio felt the crack widen.

“Right,” Rio said, her tone sharp enough to cut. She couldn’t help herself. “For your procedure.”

Agatha blinked, setting the glass down. “It’s nothing serious. I didn’t want to worry you.”

The words hit Rio like a punch to the gut. She straightened, crossing her arms over her chest. “You didn’t want to worry me? Agatha, I’m your partner. You think I wouldn’t want to know something like this?”

Agatha’s shoulders tensed, but she held her ground. “It’s not a big deal, Rio. I promise.”

Rio laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

The air between them grew thick, the warmth of the kitchen suddenly suffocating. Agatha opened her mouth as if to argue, but Rio raised a hand to stop her.

“Look,” Rio said, her voice quieter now but no less firm. “If you’re not ready to talk about it, fine. But don’t pretend like this doesn’t matter. Don’t shut me out. I’m… I want to talk to you about this. I want to understand. I’m you partner, and you’re leaving me out of something big.”

Agatha’s expression softened, guilt flickering across her face. She reached for Rio’s hand, but Rio stepped back, the distance between them feeling too vast to bridge just yet.

“I’m going to bed,” Rio said, turning toward the stairs. “Let me know when you’re ready to talk.”

She didn’t wait for Agatha’s response. The weight of everything followed her up the stairs, settling heavy on her chest as she closed the door to the guest bedroom behind her.

Chapter Text

Rio blinked twice, slightly disoriented as she woke up in sheets that smelled like laundry detergent instead of Agatha. Right. She was in the guest bedroom. It had felt like the better option at the time, she’d needed space. But part of her had half expected Agatha to try a little to stop her. Or to come and slip into bed next to her during the night so that she could wake her up with gentle assurances that everything was alright.

But she was alone.

She glanced at the bedside table. No tea, no note left for her. Rio sighed and rubbed her eyes. It wasn’t a reassuring sign that she’d walked away and Agatha had let her.

Once she got dressed and made her way to the kitchen, on the counter she found the mug that was usually waiting for her along with a note.

Hope today is better. I’ll see you tonight. -A 

This note she didn’t save. This one she threw in the trash.

Rio sat at the counter, her head in her hands, heart pounding as her thoughts chased each other in endless, frantic circles.

Agatha had known she was upset. Still, she’d let her go to bed angry. Still, she’d reverted to old habits, leaving an enigmatic note. Why didn’t Agatha tell her? Why did she have to find out about the procedure from a phone call she hadn’t even been meant to answer?

Her gaze landed on her phone sitting on the counter, its screen dark and unhelpful. Her first instinct had been to call Agatha’s doctor back and demand answers, but what could she even say? She wasn’t next of kin. She wasn’t Agatha’s wife. She was just…

Rio clenched her fists. No. Don’t go there.

But the hurt remained, gnawing at her. The nagging voice whispered louder, that maybe she wasn’t as close as she thought. That maybe Agatha didn’t trust her the way she trusted Agatha.

She exhaled sharply, standing abruptly and pacing the kitchen. The movement didn’t help. The walls seemed to close in on her, the weight in her chest growing heavier. She needed to do something—anything—but every step she considered seemed like it would only make things worse.

For a moment she entertained going to Agatha’s downtown office, demanding to see her or waiting in the lobby until someone kicked her out. But that was dramatic. And Agatha only allowed theatric stunts when they were her own.

Then, without thinking, she grabbed her phone and scrolled down to Jen’s name. She hesitated for a moment, thumb hovering over the screen. She didn’t want to dump all of this on Jen. She didn’t even know where to start.

But she couldn’t do this alone.

She pressed the call button, holding the phone to her ear with a shaky hand.

“Hey, stranger!” Jen’s cheerful voice came through the line. “This is a surprise.”

Rio opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. She swallowed hard and tried again, her voice hoarse. “Hey, Jen.”

The shift in Jen’s tone was immediate. “Rio? What’s wrong?”

Rio clenched her jaw, willing herself not to break down. “Can we… Can we meet up?”

“Of course,” Jen said without hesitation. “Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“I—” Rio faltered, her throat tightening. “I can’t… Can we just meet somewhere? Please?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Jen said quickly. “I’ll text you my new address. Come over, okay?”

Rio nodded even though Jen couldn’t see her. “Thanks.”

“Rio,” Jen said softly, her voice filled with concern, “whatever it is, it’s going to be okay. Just get here safe, alright?”

“Yeah,” Rio said, her voice barely above a whisper. She ended the call and stared at the phone for a long moment before the address popped up in a text.

Grabbing her keys, she left the house without another glance.

By the time she arrived at Jen’s door she was in near tears. She didn’t remember the last time she had cried, but she could feel with certainty that she would be soon.

Jen’s arms tightened around Rio as soon as the door shut behind them. “Okay, spill,” she said softly. “What’s going on babe?”

Rio clung to her for a moment longer, her breath hitching before she managed to pull back. She looked at Jen’s concerned face and felt her composure falter again.

“I think…” Rio started, her voice breaking. She swallowed hard and tried again. “I think Agatha’s keeping something from me.”

Jen’s expression softened even more, and she guided Rio to the couch. “Sit. Tell me everything.”

Rio sat, her hands twisting in her lap. “It’s just... there have been these little things. A doctor’s appointment she didn’t tell me about. Medication I didn’t know she was taking. And yesterday, her doctor’s office called about a procedure. Today.”

Jen’s eyes widened. “A procedure? Did she tell you what it’s for?”

Rio shook her head, frustration bubbling to the surface. “No. And I didn’t ask. Well, I did but I told her I wasn’t going to pressure her. I just… I slept in the guest room and she didn’t even try to stop me. I don’t know if I’m being a coward or if she is. Maybe I should have pushed harder...”

“Hey,” Jen said firmly, placing a hand on Rio’s knee. “You’re not a coward. You’re overwhelmed. There’s a difference.”

Rio let out a shaky breath. “It’s just… we’ve been so good, you know? We’ve been communicating, and working together, working on our baggage and shit. And now I feel like we’re back to square one. I don’t know if she’s hiding this because she doesn’t trust me or because she thinks she’s protecting me, but either way, it hurts.”

Jen nodded slowly. “And you’re scared to push her because you don’t want to make it worse.”

“Exactly,” Rio said, her voice cracking again. “But I also can’t sit here and act like it’s fine. It’s not fine.”

Jen leaned back, studying her. “Do you think she’s in serious trouble? Like, health-wise?”

“I don’t know,” Rio admitted, her hands balling into fists. “And that’s the worst part. I don’t know anything.”

This admission was what finally broke the composure she’d been trying to claw back. She let herself cry, an ugly shaking sound. 

“Oh, honey.” Jen sighed, pulling her into her arms on the couch. 

Rio buried her face against Jen’s shoulder, her body trembling as the sobs wracked through her. Jen held her tightly, one hand rubbing soothing circles on her back, the other cradling the back of her head.

“It’s okay,” Jen murmured, her voice soft and steady. “Just let it out, Rio. I’ve got you.”

Rio clung to her, letting the storm of emotions she’d been bottling up pour out. Fear, frustration, hurt—they all crashed over her at once, and for the first time in what felt like forever, she let herself feel all of it.

After a while, her sobs quieted into hiccupping breaths, and she pulled back slightly, wiping at her tear-streaked face with the sleeve of her hoodie. “Sorry,” she croaked, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to fall apart on you like this.”

Jen gave her a pointed look. “Stop that. You don’t need to apologize for being human, Rio.”

Rio sniffed, her hands fidgeting in her lap. “I just… I don’t know what to do. If I push her, I’m afraid she’ll shut me out completely. But if I don’t, what if—” She broke off, unable to say the rest.

Jen tilted her head, considering her words carefully. “Look, I know I’m not in your relationship, but from everything you’ve told me about Agatha, she doesn’t strike me as the type to do something like this lightly. Whatever she’s keeping from you, it’s probably not because she doesn’t care. She might think she’s sparing you from something she thinks you can’t handle.”

Rio’s jaw tightened. “But I can handle it. I’ve been here. I’m here . Doesn’t she see that?”

Jen reached out, squeezing her hand. “Maybe she does. But sometimes, when you’re scared, you convince yourself that you’re doing the right thing by keeping people at arm’s length. It’s not fair, and it’s not right, but it’s human.”

Rio swallowed hard, her mind racing. “So what do I do? Just wait?”

Her friend hesitated, then shook her head. “No. If you wait, you’ll drive yourself crazy. You need to talk to her. Not confront her— talk to her. Lay it out. Tell her how this is making you feel. If you don’t, you’re going to keep spiraling, and she’s going to think you’re okay with being left in the dark. You’ve got to meet her halfway, even if it’s scary.”

Rio let out a shaky breath, staring down at her hands. “What if she still doesn’t tell me?”

“Then at least you’ll know you tried,” Jen said gently. “And maybe that’ll be enough to remind her that she doesn’t have to go through this alone.”

Rio nodded slowly, her resolve hardening. Jen was right. She couldn’t just sit on the sidelines, not when her heart was so deeply invested.

“I mean, sometimes people keep things close to the chest because they’re still processing it themselves,” Jen explained. “It might not even be about you. She might just need time to figure out how to talk about it.”

Rio exhaled slowly, trying to regain her composure, “You think so?”

Jen shrugged. “I don’t know Agatha like you do. But I do know she loves you. That much is obvious. So whatever this is, I doubt it’s about shutting you out.”

Rio nodded, her mind spinning. “I just… I don’t know what to do.”

“Start with this,” Jen said, giving her a pointed look. “Stop spiraling. Go for a walk. Get some air. And when you’re ready, talk to her. Really talk to her. No assumptions, no accusations—just ask.”

Rio hesitated, then nodded again. “Yeah. Okay. I can do that.”

Jen gave her a small smile. “You’ve got this, Rio. You’re stronger than you think.”

She groaned and wiped her eyes before sitting up. “You uh… this place is cute,” she hiccuped, taking a second to look around the small studio.

“Rio, it’s still half in moving boxes.”

Rio let out a watery laugh.

“Come on. Why don’t you stay here a bit? If you help me unpack the kitchen stuff I’ll let you make breakfast.”

When Rio laughed again it was a little more genuine. “Wow. You’ll let me make breakfast huh?”

Jen smiled. “It’ll keep your mind off things. Besides, you’re way better at flipping omelets than I am.”

“Yeah, Agatha showed me a trickー” Rio replied without thinking, her words catching in her chest.

Jen sighed knowingly and patted her arm. “Come on. Let’s keep you busy.”

Rio took a deep breath and wiped her eyes, trying to shake off the last remnants of her emotional breakdown. Jen's suggestion, though simple, felt like a lifeline. A distraction. She nodded, forcing herself to focus on the task ahead rather than the swirl of thoughts that still tangled in her mind.

"Alright," she said, standing up with a slight huff. "Let’s get this kitchen unpacked."

Jen grinned. "That's the spirit. We'll have you cooking up a storm in no time."

Rio stepped into the small kitchen area, scanning the boxes and scattered dishes. It felt surreal to be here, in Jen's place, so different from the warmth and familiarity of Agatha's home. The absence of Agatha’s presence weighed heavily on her, like a quiet ache in the background of her every thought.

Jen handed her a box of utensils, and they got to work. The silence between them wasn’t awkward—it was comfortable, a quiet companion to the hum of their movements. 

Jen would occasionally toss out a comment about her latest organizing idea, but Rio’s responses were slow and absent-minded, her mind still tugging back to the unanswered questions about Agatha’s appointment, the procedure, everything.

As they unpacked, Jen put on a playlist of light background music to fill the quiet. Rio tried to focus on it, but her thoughts kept drifting back to Agatha, to the small, seemingly insignificant details that had begun to pile up. She wondered if Agatha was at home, whether she had made it to her appointment. Was she doing alright? Had she even thought to mention it to someone?

The more she thought about it, the harder it became to ignore the gnawing anxiety in her stomach.

Rio cracked eggs and whisked them with practiced ease, her mind slowly settling as the familiar motions grounded her. Jen busied herself unpacking boxes, chatting lightly about the quirks of her new apartment and a particularly nosy neighbor she’d already encountered.

“So there I was, standing at the door in my pajamas, and this woman is asking me if I have any extra coffee filters,” Jen said, rolling her eyes but grinning. “I told her, ‘Lady, I just moved in. I don’t even know where my socks are.’”

Rio chuckled, flipping the omelet with a deft flick of her wrist. “Sounds like you’ve got a real character for a neighbor.”

“Oh, she’s harmless,” Jen said, waving it off. “A little nosy, but she means well. Unlike you, with your perfect omelet skills making the rest of us look bad.”

Rio raised an eyebrow, sliding the golden omelet onto a plate. “You’re welcome. Consider this your reward for being a good friend.”

Jen set two plates on the table with a flourish. “A reward I will happily accept. Now sit down and eat before you start thinking too much again.”

Rio sighed but complied, taking a seat at the small kitchen table. As she took her first bite, the warm, cheesy comfort of the omelet settled something in her chest.

“This is good,” Jen said after a moment, chewing thoughtfully. “See? You’re already doing something right today.”

Rio glanced at her, a flicker of gratitude crossing her face. “Thanks, Jen. For all of this.”

Jen reached across the table, squeezing her hand briefly. “Anytime. And remember—you’re not alone in this. Whatever happens, you’ve got people who love you. Agatha included.”

Finally, after they’d finished breakfast and put away the last of the kitchen items, Jen gave her a gentle look. "Hey, how’re you holding up?"

Rio blinked, surprised by the softness in her voice. She realized then that Jen had been watching her closely, no doubt sensing how much her mind was still racing.

“I’m trying,” Rio admitted quietly. She leaned against the counter, taking in a steadying breath. “It’s just… everything feels so off. Like I can’t even trust myself to know what’s going on, let alone what Agatha’s thinking.”

Jen nodded, her expression understanding. "You’re in the unknown right now, and that’s tough. But you will figure this out, one way or another. Don’t let the uncertainty trap you in your own head, okay?"

Rio looked at Jen for a long moment, considering her words. There was a comforting sense of clarity in Jen’s grounded, no-nonsense approach. She could talk to Agatha. She should . No more avoiding it.

“I need to go talk to her,” Rio said, the decision settling in her chest like a weight that had just been lifted. She was ready.

Jen’s eyes softened. “Good. I think that’s the right choice. You’re strong, Rio, and you love her. Start with that.”

Rio offered a weak smile, feeling the knot in her stomach loosen just a little. “Thanks, Jen.”

Rio stood and grabbed her coat from the back of the chair, pulling it on with a newfound resolve. She turned toward Jen, her face still marked by traces of the earlier tears but steadier now. Jen watched her closely, her arms crossed as she leaned against the counter.

As Rio moved toward the door, Jen called after her, her tone light but with an unmistakable edge. “Hey, one last thing.”

Rio glanced over her shoulder. “Yeah?”

Jen gave her a look, her lips quirking up into a smirk that didn’t quite mask the seriousness in her eyes. “This is Agatha’s one free pass. If she ever makes you show up at my door looking like that again, we’re going to have a problem.”

Rio blinked, startled, before she let out a genuine laugh. “You’re only half-joking, aren’t you?”

Jen shrugged, her smirk widening into a full grin. “Maybe. Let’s just say I have no problem reminding Agatha that you’ve got people in your corner. And I know where she lives.”

The mental image of her best friend squaring off against Agatha—a matchup that seemed like a surefire way to destroy at least one room of their house—was so absurd that Rio couldn’t help but laugh harder. She held her stomach as the laughter came in waves, the tension in her chest finally easing for the first time in what felt like days.

“Okay, okay,” Rio said between breaths, shaking her head. “As much as I appreciate the thought, please don’t fight my girlfriend.”

Jen smirked. “No promises. But for your sake, I’ll keep it verbal. Unless she really deserves it.”

Rio rolled her eyes, still smiling as she reached for the door. “Thanks, Jen. Seriously.”

Jen gave her a small wave. “Anytime. Now go get your girl.”

Rio stepped out into the crisp air, closing the door behind her. She paused for a moment, pulling her phone out of her pocket to check for any missed calls or texts from Agatha. There were none.

With a deep breath, she started the short walk to the bus stop, her determination growing stronger with each step. She’d wait until Agatha got home. But not any longer. 

The sound of the front door closing made Rio’s stomach twist. She had been sitting on the couch, legs bouncing nervously, for what felt like hours. When Agatha walked into the living room, her face unreadable, the tension in the air thickened.

“Hey,” Agatha said softly, setting her bag on the floor.

Rio stood, her hands gripping the hem of her shirt. “Hey.” Her voice was tight, the single word weighed down with everything she didn’t know how to say yet.

Agatha hesitated. “I—”

“We need to talk,” Rio interrupted, her voice firmer now. “Before you say anything, I need to… I need to say a few things first.”

Agatha blinked, surprised, but nodded. “Okay.”

Rio took a deep breath, steadying herself. “I don’t want to pry. I never do. I trust you more than anything, Agatha. You know that, right?”

Agatha’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and she nodded again. “I know.”

“But this—this has been killing me. I’ve been going out of my mind wondering what’s going on, why you didn’t tell me about the procedure, about the medication. It’s not just that I’m worried—it’s that it hurt. It hurt that you felt like you couldn’t tell me.”

Agatha sighed deeply, her gaze dropping to the floor. “You’re right,” she said quietly. “I should have told you. I’m sorry, Rio.”

She felt her throat tighten, but she pushed through it. “What’s going on, Agatha? Is it… is it something bad? Like cancer? Or…” Her voice broke slightly before she swallowed hard and continued, “Because if it is, I need to know. I’ll do anything— anything I can to support you. But you have to let me in. I need to know.”

Agatha’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with alarm. “No,” she said quickly. “No, it’s not cancer or anything like that.”

Rio exhaled shakily, relief flooding her for a brief moment before the anxiety crept back in. “Then what is it? Please, Agatha. Whatever it is, I can handle it. I just need you to trust me.”

Agatha’s expression softened, her walls starting to come down. She stepped closer to Rio, her hands fidgeting slightly at her sides. “It’s… it’s not something bad. But it is something big. And I didn’t know how to bring it up without… without scaring you.”

Her chest ached at the vulnerability in Agatha’s voice. She reached out, her hand brushing against Agatha’s arm. “Agatha, I’m already scared. Please. Just tell me.”

Agatha looked at her, her jaw tightening as she weighed her words. Finally, she let out a slow, trembling breath. “Okay. Let’s sit.”

She sat on the sofa and after a moment Rio joined her. She didn’t sit as close as she normally would, but after a moment she reached out and put a hand on her knee.

Agatha stared at Rio’s hand on her knee, as though the touch gave her the strength to continue. She inhaled deeply, her fingers lacing together tightly in her lap.

“I’ve been going to a fertility specialist,” Agatha said quickly, as if saying it faster would make it less of a bombshell. “For a while now.”

Rio blinked, her mouth opening slightly, but Agatha barreled forward, not giving her a chance to respond.

“I don’t even know if I want kids,” she admitted, her voice picking up speed. “I never thought I did. It was never on my radar, you know? But then I started thinking about it—or maybe I just couldn’t stop thinking about it—and I realized… I don’t have forever to figure it out.”

She let out a sharp, humorless laugh, her fingers twitching nervously. “Apparently, according to my doctor, I’ve already hit the dreaded ‘geriatric pregnancy’ age range, which is just a delightful phrase, isn’t it? Nothing like hearing that word to make you feel vibrant and youthful.”

Rio’s lips twitched, but she stayed quiet, letting Agatha speak.

“And I didn’t tell you because… God, Rio, I didn’t know how,” Agatha continued, her voice cracking slightly. “We’ve never talked about kids, not once. I didn’t even know if it was something you wanted. And I was scared—terrified—that even bringing it up would make you rethink everything. Us. Like, what if you thought it was some kind of ultimatum or expectation? It’s not. It’s really not.”

Her words tumbled over each other, coming faster now. “I didn’t want to freak you out or make you feel like this was a decision you had to make right now, today. Fuck, I don’t even know what decision I’m making yet. But I went ahead with the consultations and the tests and—” She gestured vaguely, her voice dropping to a guilty whisper. “—the procedure this morning. Just… freezing my eggs. Nothing more than that.”

Agatha finally paused, catching her breath. Her eyes darted nervously to Rio, searching for any sign of what she might be thinking. “I should have told you,” she said, her voice softer now, full of remorse. “I know I should have told you. I’m sorry. For keeping this from you, and for not bringing it up sooner. For all of it.”

Rio’s hand tightened gently on Agatha’s knee. She was quiet for a long moment, her face unreadable. When she finally spoke, her voice was low, steady. “You were scared.”

Agatha nodded wordlessly, her throat too tight to speak.

Rio leaned forward slightly, her other hand reaching to take one of Agatha’s. “Agatha… thank you for telling me. And for trusting me enough to share this, even if it took a while.”

“I didn’t mean to keep it from you,” Agatha said, her voice breaking. “I just—”

“Agatha,” Rio interrupted gently, her thumb stroking the back of her hand. “It’s okay. I’m not mad. I just… I wish you hadn’t gone through this alone.”

Agatha let out a shaky breath, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. “I’m sorry,” she whispered again.

Rio squeezed her hand. “You don’t have to be. But from now on, no more doing this by yourself, okay? We’re a team. Whatever this ends up looking like, we figure it out together.”

Agatha swallowed hard, a single tear escaping down her cheek. “Okay,” she said softly, the word carrying the weight of a promise.

Rio sat back for a moment, her hand still resting on Agatha’s knee. She let her mind wander, cautiously prodding at the idea Agatha had just laid before them. Kids. A child. A little version of Agatha running around with her quick wit, sharp eyes, and the stubbornness that both infuriated and endeared Rio to her.

She imagined spending mornings trying to tame a tiny mane of frizzy hair. As she looked around the room she imagined it stuffed not with esoteric books and fragile art pieces but obnoxiously bright and loud toys. She could almost hear little cries, little laughs, little feet running down the stairs.

The thought was dizzying. Rio loved her nephews and niece, and adored the way their faces lit up when she walked through the door with some new gadget or a ridiculous story to share. But being the fun aunt was one thing—she’d never really thought of herself as maternal. What did that even mean? Did it mean knowing how to soothe a baby or teaching a teenager how to parallel park? She couldn’t even drive herself. It all felt so abstract.

And yet… her chest tightened as she remembered that Christmas Eve dinner at her abuela’s apartment. Agatha had been holding Rosie, barely six months old at the time, the baby’s tiny fist clutching Agatha’s shirt as she bounced her gently. Rosie had gurgled in delight, and Agatha had laughed—a soft, unguarded sound Rio hadn’t heard often enough. The sight had struck Rio like a physical blow, something warm and aching unfurling in her chest.

That feeling returned now, threading through her thoughts. What would it be like to build a life like that together? To share in the mess, the joy, the exhaustion?

Without realizing it, she’d slipped her arm around Agatha’s shoulders and pulled her close. Agatha hesitated at first, then let out a shuddering sigh and leaned into her.

“I meant it,” Rio said after a long silence, her voice low and steady. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”

Agatha didn’t respond right away. She just rested her head against Rio’s shoulder, her hand fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Finally, she said softly, “You’re not… freaked out?”

Rio chuckled under her breath, the sound quiet and warm. “Of course, I’m freaked out. But not in a bad way.” She glanced down at Agatha, her heart twisting at the vulnerability in her expression. “I just need time to wrap my head around it, that’s all. It’s a big thing, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing.”

Agatha looked up at her, searching her face. “And you don’t… hate me for keeping it from you?”

Rio’s arm tightened around her. “Never. I get it, Agatha. I really do. But next time, just… let me be there for you, okay? Even if it’s messy or complicated.”

Agatha nodded, her throat working as she swallowed hard. “Okay,” she whispered.

They sat like that for a while, neither of them in a rush to move, the weight of their earlier tension gradually giving way to something softer. Something that felt, if not settled, then at least hopeful.

“So,” Rio began lightly, her tone creeping towards playful. “You think that I haven’t brought enough chaos in your life? That there’s room for one more?”

Agatha let out a small laugh, wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself.”

She grinned, leaning her head against Agatha’s. “I dunno. If we had a kid, they’d have my charm and your stubbornness. That’s a recipe for pure diva behavior.”

Agatha gave her a serious look. “Your charm and my stubbornness? More like your reckless ideas and my knack for holding grudges. Imagine a toddler refusing to eat vegetables out of sheer spite for being told no once.”

Rio barked a laugh. “So, basically unstoppable. They’d rule the kindergarten playground with an iron fist.” She shook her head fondly. “God help us if they pick up your habit of glaring at people.”

Agatha smirked. “It’s not glaring. It’s discerning . And someone needs to keep them in line. It’s definitely not going to be you.”

“So I’ll be the fun parent,” Rio said with mock indignation. “Teaching them how to skateboard, sneak candy past bedtime, maybe even take the subway to school. Life lessons.”

Agatha’s eyes narrowed. “Skateboarding is dangerous. And there is no way our hypothetical kid is getting on a subway… without me.”

Rio gave her a smug grin. “I knew you’d already be the overprotective mom.”

“Protective, sure,” Agatha shot back. “Reasonable. Unlike you, apparently.”

Rio’s laugh was warm, but she noticed the subtle shift in Agatha’s expression—the playfulness fading, replaced by something quieter, more uncertain. She tilted her head slightly, waiting, giving Agatha space to speak.

Her voice was softer now. “What if I wouldn’t be a good mother?” she asked, the words coming out hesitant, almost fragile. “What do I even know about being a parent? My own mother…” She trailed off, her lips pressing together. “I’m terrified of messing someone up the way she messed me up. I don’t know if I can… break that cycle.”

Rio’s heart twisted at the vulnerability in Agatha’s voice. She shifted to face her more fully, cupping her cheek gently. “Hey,” she said, her tone serious but kind. “You are nothing like your mom, Agatha. You know that, right?”

Agatha looked down, her brow furrowed. “But what if I—”

“You wouldn’t,” Rio interrupted firmly. “You care too much. You’re thoughtful and kind, and yeah, maybe you’re stubborn as hell, but you’ve got the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. If this is something you decide you want, I know you’d give it everything. You’d be amazing.”

Agatha let out a shaky breath, her lips twitching in a faint smile. “You’re biased.”

“Damn right I am,” Rio said with a grin. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”

Agatha’s smile lingered, and Rio leaned back, giving her a playful nudge. “Besides, if we did this, I’d keep you in check. No way I’m letting you be the uptight one all the time. Someone has to teach our kid how to rebel properly.”

Agatha gave her an exasperated look. “Defined by skateboarding, cavities, and germ-infested transit?”

“And?” Rio teased. “Come on, think of the street smarts they’ll have.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, but there was a softness there now, her earlier tension easing into something more manageable. “If we did this, I’d make sure they knew better than to follow all your terrible ideas.”

Rio chuckled, wrapping her arm around Agatha again. “See? Balance. We’d make a good team.”

Agatha leaned into her, resting her head against Rio’s shoulder again. “We would, wouldn’t we?”

“Yeah,” Rio murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of Agatha’s head. “But we’ve got time to figure it out. We don’t need to decide anything tonight.”

Agatha closed her eyes, letting out a soft sigh. “No. We don’t.”

They sat like that for a while longer, the weight of uncertainty still there but quieter now, replaced by a tentative sense of possibility.

“Whenever I think about the future, every time I picture it, every dream I have…” Rio trailed off for a moment. “It looks a little different every time. But you’re always, always there.” She smiled tenderly at Agatha. “So as long as I have you, I’m good. Whatever else happens, happens. We’ll just have to see.”

Agatha hummed and tilted her head to kiss Rio’s jaw. “We’ll see,” she agreed. 

Rio’s heart fluttered in her chest, and she leaned to meet Agatha’s lips. Her fingers carded through Agatha’s hair as she gently pulled back.

“C’mon,” she said, her voice low and teasing. “Let’s get to bed.”

“I missed you last night,” Agatha confessed, reaching for Rio’s hand.

“Me too.”

Their fingers intertwined as Agatha pulled her up the stairs. As they reached the doorway to the bedroom, Rio stopped, pulling Agatha to face her. The soft light from the lamp by the bed painted her features in a warm golden light, and for a brief moment, all Rio could do was look at her. She smiled, her eyes flicking between Agatha’s lips, the tiny dimple on her chin, the line of her neck, and her striking eyes. They were so blue, but more often reminded her of a blazing fire than still waters.

“You know, no matter what, I’m really glad I’m doing this with you,” Rio said, her voice quiet but full of sincerity. “This. Us. Whatever comes next.”

Agatha returned the smile, her eyes gentle, crinkling at the edges. “Me too,” she whispered before leaning to kiss her again.

She kissed her deeply with her apology. She kissed her slowly like a promise.

Rio sighed as she parted her lips, allowing Agatha to press her tongue into her mouth. She whimpered as she felt her tongue brush over hers. As if she could rewrite the hurt she’d caused and draw any doubts lingering on the tip of her tongue away.

She’d let her. Rio would give Agatha everything.

Agatha wrapped her arm around her waist, placing her hand at the small of her back as she backed Rio towards the bed. Her movements were steady and sure as her hands tugged the hem of her shirt.

“May I?” she asked, her voice still carrying the vulnerability from before.

Rio nodded quickly, and as soon as Agatha had pulled her shirt off her hands moved to unbutton Agatha’s. Her fingers fumbled at one of the buttons, she hadn’t realized they were shaking. But Agatha’s hands landed on her own and she murmured a soft “let me help,” before quickly undoing the rest of the buttons and shrugging the shirt away.

They undressed each other slowly. It was almost shy like it was their first time meeting like this. Agatha kept her hands on Rio, grounding her, keeping her in place and in the moment. She gently lowered her to the bed, trailing kisses over the faint freckles on her chest.

Rio closed her eyes and finally let herself exhale all the tension she was carrying. “Don’t go anywhere,” she breathed.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Agatha murmured between gentle kisses..

Agatha’s fingers brushed against Rio’s skin, tracing the paths of her body as if she were trying to memorize her by touch. As if in touching her, she could stitch back together the frayed edges caused by hurt. When she kissed her it was like she was trying to give her the breath out of her lungs.

Rio’s hands found Agatha’s back again, pulling her closer. “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The room seemed to close in around them leaving only the rhythm of their breaths and the warm press of Agatha’s body on top of hers. They moved together, natural and slow, muscle memory taking over as they fell into a familiar rhythm.

She loved Agatha like this. When she was slow and focused. It was addicting. She could never have enough. Not tonight. Not in a lifetime. She would always want more of her.

More moments like this, deep and intimate. More playful arguments, and banter that more often than not led to them both to bed, racing to outdo each other as if sex were a contest. She wanted to travel more with her, to share more firsts for both of them individually and as a couple. She even didn’t mind waking up in the middle of the night freezing, because as much as Agatha complained about Rio taking up the whole bed, Agatha was always the one who stole all the covers.

And for a moment, everything felt still—paused in a perfect, unbroken instant. The world outside, the uncertainties, the fears, all of it faded into the background, leaving only them. Agatha’s breath was warm as it washed over her ear, continuing her steady stream of whispered praises. And it was enough.

When she came, it was as if all her thoughts turned to static leaving only Agatha’s name that she cried like a vow. 

Agatha kissed gently at her cheek, kissing away a tear Rio hadn’t realized had fallen.

"I’m here," Agatha whispered, the words barely more than a breath against Rio’s lips.

And Rio didn't just believe her, she knew it was a certainty.

Chapter Text

Rio fidgeted on the couch as she waited for Agatha to get home from work. A printed copy of her college reapplication essay sat in her lap, dog-eared and marked with notes. She glanced toward the front door as Agatha entered, her face softening as she saw Rio.

“Busy day?” Rio called.

“Ugh. You have no idea. Did you hear about the latest with Harry Crawford?” Agatha replied as she slipped off her jacket.

“No?”

“Good. Then it was a productive day.” Agatha settled on the sectional next to her, glancing over the papers in her lap. “Looks like you’ve been busy too.”

Rio sighed. “Yeah, I’ve been looking at this too long.” She sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Do you think you could take a look? Not like as my adoring partner who is going to tell me it’s great and I’m ‘overthinking’ it. I want your real opinion.” 

It was more vulnerable sharing this with Agatha than she’d expected. But her application was due tomorrow if she wanted to get in for the spring or summer term.

“All right,” Agatha said, taking the essay from Rio’s hands and glancing at it briefly. “If you want my professional feedback, I’ll treat this like I would any other work. I’m glad you’re finally letting me help with this.”

Rio nodded, though her fingers drummed nervously against her thigh. “Yeah, yeah. I know you know everyone but calling the admissions officer would have been… overkill. I want to do this myself you know? And I want it to be good, I’m doing this, I want this—not just because you’re my girlfriend, but because I’m serious about it.”

Agatha’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “Good. In that case, I’ll take this to the office where I can give it the attention it deserves. Hand me my glasses, will you?”

Rio complied, watching as Agatha slipped them on with a practiced ease. She straightened her posture, already shifting into her work mode as she turned toward the stairs. “I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”

Rio exhaled deeply as Agatha disappeared upstairs. Time crawled as she paced the room, before finally settling on the couch and distracting herself with the TV. When she heard footsteps descending the stairs, she sat up straighter, her heart thumping.

Agatha entered the room holding the essay in one hand and a freshly opened bottle of wine in the other.

“Wait,” Rio said, standing. “Wine? Was it that bad?”

Agatha chuckled, shaking her head as she poured. “Not at all.” She handed Rio a glass before taking a seat beside her on the couch. “If you must know, I think it’s really strong. Thoughtful, focused, and personal in all the right ways. You should be proud of it.”

Rio blinked, holding the glass but not drinking. “Really? You mean that?”

Agatha turned to her, her expression softening. “I do. From a professional standpoint, it’s well-crafted. It tells your story well. And if you want my personal opinion...” She trailed off, taking a sip of her wine before continuing. “I think you’re underselling yourself. But I’m biased—I’ll never think you give yourself enough credit.”

Rio grinned, finally taking a sip. “That’s because you’re in love with me.”

“Guilty,” Agatha said, raising her glass in a mock toast.

“Shame I can’t add some of the things you love about me to the application, though,” Rio teased. “I’m sure the admissions committee would be scandalized.”

Agatha laughed, the rich, low sound that Rio loved. “No, darling. That’s just for me.” She glanced at the TV and wrinkled her nose. “Didn’t I already suffer through this once?”

Rio laughed, “It’s a mini docuseries, there’s several episodes.”

“If it’s a mini-series why are they so damn long,” she groaned, turning to rest against the arm of the sofa and drawing up her legs into Rio’s lap.

“Where’s the remote I’ll change itー”

“No, I’d tell you if I wanted to change it,” Agatha huffed.

“Got it, you just want to whine then.” Rio teased, pinching her calf playfully.

Agatha rolled her eyes affectionately. “If I recall, you like it when I whine.”

Rio hummed in agreement as she trailed her hands up to idly massage her legs. “Maybe after… I’m really invested in these polar bears,” she teased with a wink.

The shift from winter to spring came quietly and gradually, like a slow exhale that warmed the earth. Like the way Agatha breathed her name against her ear when they were in bed. Snow lingered in stubborn patches, slowly turning to slush, and Rio was especially thankful for her new boots as she trudged through it.

Their home changed along with the turning of the season. The thick blankets that had draped over the couch were folded away, and replaced by lighter throws. Agatha swapped the cinnamon candles for something floral and citrusy,. Rio quietly tended to the small garden plot outside, determined to coax something green from the thawing ground.

Agatha still teased Rio for trudging off to the bar four nights a week, her expression torn between playful disbelief and genuine concern. “You know you don’t have to,” Agatha had said one evening as Rio laced up her boots, her voice carrying the same note of exasperation it always did when this conversation resurfaced. Agatha always had many ideas and plans for “better ways” Rio could spend her time.

And to give her credit, only half of them led to Rio undressed and bent over the bed or on her back underneath her.

“I know, I know” Rio replied, leaning over to kiss Agatha’s cheek to silence her protest. “But I do like my job, sometimes. And the new owner’s not an ass, so it’s fine.”

“It’s not just about the owner,” Agatha countered, crossing her arms. “You’ve got other things to focus on. Like school.”

“Which I’ll get to,” Rio said, pulling on her coat. “If they even let me back in.” Her tone was light, but Agatha caught the flicker of doubt that passed over her face before Rio glanced away.

“They will,” Agatha said, softer now. “And you’ll do great.”

Despite the conversation, Rio hadn’t yet made any moves to quit. She liked the sense of independence it gave her, even as her hours grew more regular and the tips started to add up. There were things she wanted, things she wanted to give, and those things didn’t feel right to buy with Agatha’s money.

Still, some battles weren’t worth fighting. When Agatha brought up the idea of helping with tuition costs again—offhandedly, as if testing the waters—Rio finally relented with a grumbled, “We’ll see. Maybe. ”

Spring inched into bloom, unfolding in bursts of color and life. Rio’s days off were spent outdoors whenever possible, tackling whatever small projects came to mind—fixing the back fence and repainting the deck. Agatha joked that she had become something of a handyman, and Rio let her. It felt good to see something tangible come of her effort. And Agatha seemed to like how she looked in a tool belt.

One evening, Rio came home from the bar carrying a small, wrapped package. She set it on the kitchen counter with a crooked grin and called out, “Hey, hon, you busy?”

Agatha appeared in the doorway, raising an eyebrow at the package. “What’s this?”

“Just open it,” Rio said, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed.

Inside was a pair of gardening gloves, leather lined with soft fabric. Agatha’s smile was instant, bright, and genuine. “These are beautiful. Did you—?”

“They’re for you,” Rio interrupted, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “Figured you might want to help with the garden without risking roughing up your hands.”

Agatha laughed, slipping the gloves on and flexing her fingers. “Hm. How thoughtful. You do seem to take a keen interest in the state of my hands,” she teased.

“You know what I mean,” Rio teased, brushing a smudge of dirt off her own. “Figured if you’re gonna be out there with me, you might as well look good doing it.”

Agatha leaned in, pressing a kiss to Rio’s cheek. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Rio said, her ears pinking slightly as she turned to put her coat away. She glanced over her shoulder, catching the way Agatha looked at the gloves—admiring, grateful, and something else Rio couldn’t quite name. “That size,” she began casually, “they fit alright?”

“Like a glove,” Agatha replied drolly.

“Okay. Good.”

Yes, some things were much better purchased on her own.

“Rio,” Agatha called, “come look at this.”

Rio, still in her pajamas, wandered over, still only half awake. She leaned over the back of the couch, her chin brushing Agatha’s shoulder as she peered at the screen.

There was a news alert with a bold headline Senator Calloway Resigns Amid Scandal Involving Staffer Affair.

“Wow,” Rio said after a moment, her voice tinged with disbelief.

Agatha sighed, scrolling down to skim the article. It detailed a familiar scenario involving her ex and a much younger staffer, complete with allegations of misuse of campaign funds and pressure to keep the affair quiet. An almost beat-for-beat repeat of the events that had led to their divorce. But this time without Agatha around to take the fall for her.

“She’s resigning,” she said, reading aloud. “Effective immediately. Looks like her team weren’t thrilled about the... optics.”

Rio scoffed, moving to sit beside her. “Good fucking riddance. Let her handle her own mess for once.”

Agatha glanced at her, the corner of her mouth quirking up. “No sympathy?”

“Not even a little,” Rio said flatly. “If she didn’t want to deal with consequences, maybe she shouldn’t have done... all that. Would’ve thought she learned the first time” She gestured vaguely at the screen. “But, you’re not bailing her out this time, and thank God for that.”

Agatha let out a small laugh, leaning back against the couch. “What did I tell you? Old habits… she’s always had a self-destructive streak and a knack for trouble.”

“And dragging you into it,” Rio added pointedly. She set her mug down on the table, turning to face Agatha fully. “Seriously, you don’t owe her anything. If she’s finally facing the music, good. About time someone else carried the weight for her bad decisions.”

“You’re right,” Agatha said softly. “I don’t owe her anything. After the way she treated you… there was no way I was helping her.”

“Fuck no,” Rio said, her tone softening as she reached out to take Agatha’s hand. “You’ve got better things—better people —to focus on now.”

Agatha smiled, squeezing her hand. “Like you?”

“Obviously,” Rio said, her smirk returning. “I’m scandal-free and everything.”

Agatha laughed, leaning into her. “I don’t know about that.”

“You know what would be scandalous?” she asked, smiling mischievously. “If now was when you came out with your side of the story. Then it’s not a momentary fall from grace, it’s showing a pattern of shitty behavior.” Rio said, still smiling but her eyes grew dark. She glanced up at Agatha, gauging her reaction before carefully adding, “Then she’s dead in the water.”

The corner of Agatha’s mouth twitched, and Rio watched as she slowly wet her lips with her tongue as if she was savoring the idea.

“Rio!” she finally laughed, seeming to be a little scandalized. But there was something else in her look, fiery and passionate. Something that looked an awful lot like arousal.

Interesting.

“Am I wrong to want that?” Rio asked, dropping her voice lower. “She fucked with you. She broke your heart. She was a total fucking cunt to me.. .”

Agatha’s eyes flashed again and she made a sound close to a snarl before pulling Rio into her lap. Rio straddled her. 

Very interesting.

“Am I wrong baby? Am I wrong that I want her finished?” Rio continued, trailing her fingers over Agatha’s jaw and over her lips. She let her thumb drag Agatha’s bottom lip down just a fraction.

“No.” Agatha breathed, her tongue brushing over Rio’s thumb. “You’re not.”

Rio felt her studying her. They could talk about this more later, right now, following this current of desire was much more interesting.

“How long do you think before she calls you?” Rio asked, unable to stop the rising surge of protectiveness as she moved her hand to gently hold Agatha’s chin.

“It’ll take me even longer to answer,” Agatha said lowly, her gaze locked on Rio’s. “After last time I made it clear if she showed up here again I’d call the cops. And then I blocked her.”

Rio smiled and leaned to kiss Agatha, just briefly, just enough to tease more. “Good. She has no right to you.”

“No right,” Agatha repeated, reaching to pull her into another kiss. But Rio stopped them, placing a finger between Agatha’s lips and her own.

“Because you’re not hers.” She let her hand drop and fell forward to kiss Agatha again. The air was charged and heavy as she kissed her and she let her hands wander before she caught herself.

She’d been more ginger with her touches in the weeks since Agatha’s procedure. She’d tried to be subtle as Agatha had repeatedly made her distaste for ‘hovering’ known, but she’d noticed some wincing, that she was a little slower to stand.

She caught Agatha’s eye, searching for any sign of discomfort and trying to slow her own heavy breathing.

Agatha must have caught the hesitation because she tilted her head up, her lips quirking into something that wasn’t quite a smile. It was sharper, more knowing. “Don’t do that,” she said softly, her voice firm but not unkind.

“Don’t do what?” Rio asked, though she already knew.

“Overthink,” Agatha replied, reaching up to tangle her fingers in Rio’s hair. “Don’t slow down. I want this. I want you. ” She tugged Rio closer until her nose brushed her cheek, her breath warm against Rio’s lips. “I’m not fragile, Rio.”

“I know you’re not,” Rio said, though her voice was quieter now, laden with the weight of everything she did know about Agatha. How fiercely strong she was. How deeply tender, even when she tried to hide it. “I just—”

“You don’t need to hold back,” Agatha interrupted her words almost a growl. “Not with me.”

Rio’s breath hitched, and she stared into Agatha’s eyes, searching for even a flicker of doubt. But all she saw was fire, and she felt it too, in the way Agatha’s fingers tightened in her hair, grounding her.

“Tell me,” Agatha said, her voice dropping lower, more commanding now. “Tell me who I belong to.”

Rio swallowed hard, her pulse thundering in her ears. The words felt too big, too dangerous, and yet they were already there, on the tip of her tongue. “You’re mine,” she said, her voice raw and reverent.

Agatha’s smile widened, fierce and unguarded. “Damn right, I am.”

The tension snapped, and Rio crushed their mouths together, her restraint finally slipping away. Agatha responded instantly, her hands sliding down to Rio’s hips, her nails biting into the fabric of her pants as if she couldn’t pull her close enough.

“You drive me crazy, you know that?” Rio murmured against her lips, her hands sliding under the hem of Agatha’s shirt, savoring the warmth of her skin beneath her palms as she pulled it up and over her head.

“Good,” Agatha said breathlessly, her voice full of wicked satisfaction. “Now stop talking.”

Rio laughed, a low, husky sound, before leaning in to do exactly that.

She kissed a trail down her neck, pausing to suck a small mark above her collarbone. “This is mine,” she breathed letting her tongue pass over the mark.

“What else is yours?” Agatha prompted, slipping her hands under the waistband of her joggers to grip her ass and pull her closer.

Rio grinned, she liked this game.

“This is yours.” She murmured, reaching behind Agatha to unhook her bra and pull it away. “But these are mine.” She eagerly cupped Agatha’s breasts, her thumb brushing over her nipple that had already pebbled in the cool air.

Agatha sighed as her lips descended further down, carding her hand through Rio’s hair before settling it at the back of her neck. “Good girl. What else?”

Rio smirked, straightening to kiss her one more time. As they parted she pulled Agatha’s lip between her teeth. She then slid out of her lap and settled on her knees in front of her.

“These,” she whispered, splaying both hands over Agatha’s thighs. “And this,” she added, leaning forward to press a tiny kiss to her stomach.

Agatha’s eyes blazed and she swallowed hard as she nodded. “Tell me what else,” she said. 

Rip loved it when she got like this. When she was able to push her into demanding what she wanted. Agatha was incredibly giving when they fucked, but sometimes she could rile her up enough that she snapped and would take her. By how rough her voice was, Rio could tell that they were close to that point.

She’d gladly keep pushing. It served them both well.

“Rio,” Agatha called, her voice was gentle but firm enough to draw her out of her thoughts. “I asked what else is yours.” In case her point wasn’t clear she raised her hips slightly off the couch.

Rio smiled and pulled her pants and underwear off. She leaned forward and kissed a dimple at her hip. “This.” Agatha spread her legs in encouragement. 

“This.” A kiss to her inner thigh.

“This.” Another kiss just above a small damp patch of curls.

Agatha whined as she let her hair fall back against the sofa.

Rio pressed a gentle kiss just above her clit. “And this—“

“Fuck me now.” Agatha moaned tugging at her hair.

Rio couldn’t stop one last mischievous smile “If I do I’m going to have to stop naming things,” she teased, her breath hot against Agatha. “You don’t need any more reminders?”

“No. I’m yours.”

She could gladly stay here forever. With Agatha’s thighs crushing on either side of her head. With her clenching around her tongue. Rio’s name falling from her lips even as she tried to bite back her more wanton sounds. Rio drug them out of her anyway.

She’d eat her out for an hour if Agatha let her. But she never did.

It wasn’t worth it to insist on that night though. Not when after coming against her face Agatha growled “mine,” again, tugged her back up, and proceeded to kiss her clean.

She didn’t protest either when Agatha drug her to her feet and pulled them towards their room.

Rio certainly didn’t mind as her clothes were flung through the foyer and she temporarily found herself lifted onto the counter.

“Agatha,” she gasped as her underwear was shoved to the side and she felt long fingers sliding against her.

Her lover was frenzied but took a second to glance at her, pausing for just a moment. It was hard to finish her thought with her fingers pressed just against her.

“Upstairs. I want more,” she pleaded in a rush.

“No time,” Agatha husked, kissing needily over her shoulders leaving a messy trail as her tongue passed over her toward her breast.

“You sure?” She whimpered, knowing she had one chance to make a compelling argument before Agatha fucked her on the kitchen counter. It wasn’t a bad option, but she wanted more. “Because I think there’s time to get me upstairs. For me to kneel on the bed. And for you to fill me with that new toy…”

Turns out there was time after all.

And after Agatha had fucked her, after she licked the sweat from her back, after she’d pulled her into her arms, Rio breathed a soft reply to an unspoken question: “I’m yours.”

“Darling, I know.”

Much later that afternoon, Rio found herself replaying the conversation with Agatha about Ashley. While she was relieved Agatha had distanced herself so firmly, a small thread of worry lingered in her chest. Ashley had always seemed vindictive, and people like her didn’t tend to go down without a fight.

Rio padded barefoot into the living room and found Agatha reading by the window.

Rio stepped closer, leaning against the doorway. “You don’t think Ashley’s going to... do something, do you?”

Agatha glanced up at her, her expression hardening just enough to remind Rio who she was dealing with. “If she does,” she said, her voice low and steady, “she’ll regret it.”

Rio blinked, taken aback by the protective growl in her voice. “Agatha—”

“She already insulted you once,” Agatha continued, her eyes sharp now like she was working through calculations in her mind. “That nasty little dig when she was here. I let it go then only because you asked me to.  But if she so much as tries to touch your reputation or mine, I’ll ruin her. Publicly. Thoroughly.”

Rio stared at her, stunned, then broke into a slow, lopsided smile. “I gotta admit,” she said, crossing her arms, “I like it when you get all scary for me.”

Agatha shot her a look, unimpressed by the attempt to defuse the tension with flirting. “I’m serious, Rio.”

“I know you are baby,” Rio said, her smile softening. She stepped forward and moved to settle half in Agatha’s lap, wrapping her arms around her shoulders.

The words worked their magic. Agatha relaxed softly slightly, though her gaze didn’t lose its fire. “You should,” she muttered, shutting her book as she pulled Rio closer. “Because I don’t make empty threats.”

Rio grinned, leaning into her touch. “Noted. And for the record, I love you even when you’re not ready to declare war on my behalf.”

“Good to know,” Agatha murmured, finally cracking a small smile.

Rio leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to Agatha’s temple. “I love you.”

Agatha tilted her head, meeting Rio’s gaze with a wry smile. “Even when I’m scary?”

“Especially when you’re scary,” Rio teased. “It’s kinda hot.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, but the smile lingered as she kissed Rio softly.

Rio felt sick as she stared at the thick envelope sitting on the kitchen counter. Her heart pounded in her chest, the university’s logo emblazoned on the top corner feeling almost accusatory. She hadn’t planned on calling Agatha—she didn’t want to bother her in the middle of the work day—but her fingers had dialed before she could think too hard about it.

Agatha picked up on the second ring. “Hi, love. What’s up?”

Rio’s voice wavered slightly as she answered, “I got something in the mail. From the university.”

There was a pause as the typing on the other end stopped, then Agatha’s calm, steady voice. “Do you want me to come home?”

“I mean, you don’t have to. I know you’re probably busy—”

“I’ll take lunch. Be there in twenty minutes.”

True to her word, Agatha arrived exactly twenty minutes later, still in her work attire, her blazer slung over her arm and her reading glasses tucked into the neckline of her blouse. She stepped inside, taking in Rio’s pacing form with a gentle smile.

“Where is it?” she asked.

Rio gestured toward the counter, where the envelope still sat, untouched. “There. I didn’t want to open it without you.”

Agatha’s expression softened, and she crossed the room to stand beside Rio. “Well then,” she said, sliding her arm around Rio’s waist. “Let’s open it together.”

With shaking hands, Rio picked up the envelope and carefully tore it open. The packet inside was thick—an encouraging sign. She pulled out the first page, her eyes scanning the bolded words at the top.

“Congratulations!” she read aloud, her voice catching. “You have been admitted…”

Her voice trailed off as the realization sunk in. She turned to Agatha, her expression stunned. “I got in.”

Agatha’s face broke into a wide smile, and she threw her arms around Rio, pulling her into a tight embrace.  “I knew you would,” she said softly.

Rio buried her face in Agatha’s shoulder, a mix of relief and joy washing over her. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it,” Agatha said, pulling back just enough to cup Rio’s face in her hands. “You earned this. They’d be idiots not to accept you.”

Rio laughed, the sound bubbling out of her as the tension she’d been carrying all day finally melted away. “I’m in,” she repeated as if saying it again would make it more real.

“You’re in,” Agatha said firmly. She leaned forward and kissed Rio, her smile lingering against her lips. “I’m so proud of you.”

Rio grinned against her before she felt an unease wash over her. “You didn’t do this right? Pull some strings to make it happen?”

Agatha blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before her expression softened into something between amusement and exasperation. “Rio,” she said, her voice gentle but firm, “do you really think I would do that? After you asked me not to?”

Rio hesitated, her grin faltering. “I don’t know. You’re powerful. Connected. And sometimes... a little terrifying when you want something.”

Agatha arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Flattered as I am by your accurate assessment of my influence, let me assure you, I did not meddle in your admissions process.” Her tone turned serious, her hands still resting on Rio’s shoulders. “You got in on your own merit, my love. Every bit of this is yours.”

Rio searched her face for any hint of deception, but she only found sincerity. She exhaled, the last traces of anxiety fading. “Okay,” she said quietly. “I believe you.”

“Good,” Agatha replied, her smile returning. “Because you should be celebrating, not second-guessing yourself. You worked so hard for this.”

Rio bit her lip, her grin slowly returning. “Guess I am kind of amazing, huh?”

Agatha laughed, brushing a strand of hair from Rio’s face. “There’s the modesty I love.”

Rio wrapped her arms around Agatha’s waist, pulling her close. “Still, this feels surreal. Like... this isn’t something that happens to me.”

“You deserve for good things to happen to you,” Agatha said simply.

“Yeah well, the best thing that’s going to happen to me already did. It feels greedy to ask for more at this point.”

“Mm. What’s that, my love?”

“You,” Rio replied earnestly.

Agatha scoffed and shook her head but her cheeks turned faintly pink as they did every time Rio was exceptionally sincere.

“Well,” she finally said, “there’s more to come.”

And there was.

Chapter Text

On the third Saturday in May, the excited crowd surged toward the graduates. Rio adjusted her tassel and scanned the sea of faces until she saw Agatha, standing tall and striking in a tailored light pink suit. Her gaze met Rio’s, and she beamed, waving uncharacteristically enthusiastically. Jen and Alice stood beside her, bouncing in place as they cheered, and Rio couldn’t help but laugh adoringly as they made a scene.

By the time Rio reached them, Agatha had abandoned all sense of decorum. She caught someone with her elbow, ignoring their annoyed glance as she practically threw herself into Rio’s arms, cupping her face and kissing her with a ferocity that left Rio’s knees weak.

Their friends cheered, and Rio let herself melt into the kiss, into the moment, into her love. Her graduation cap slipped off unnoticed, tumbling to the grass as Agatha pulled back, breathless but grinning.

“I lost my cap,” Rio murmured as Agatha’s thumb wiped away the lipstick stain from her lips.

“Forget the hat,” Agatha said, her voice low and tender. “You did it. Congratulations, my love.”

Behind them, Jen’s camera clicked furiously. “Oh, this is so going on the fridge.”

“Don’t you dare,” Rio called over her shoulder, though she was smiling.

“Can’t stop me! C’mon Agatha give us a dip,” she shouted.

Agatha raised an eyebrow, smirking at Rio as she waited for her permission. Rio rolled her eyes but nodded and Agatha dipped her, strong and sure, before planting another kiss on her.

The photo Jen later gifted them—a candid shot of the two of them laughing, the graduation cap forgotten on the ground—was tucked in a frame and placed on Agatha’s desk.

Her office which once was filled with pictures from the past now showed no signs of a time before Rio. Instead, it became a gallery devoted to the life they were building together. 

The photo of Rio’s graduation—their laughter frozen in time, Rio’s cap half-hidden in the grass—sat in a sleek black frame on her desk, its placement central and deliberate.

Nearby, a smaller frame held a snapshot from Rio’s birthday. Agatha had taken the picture herself, holding the camera at arm’s length as Rio leaned in to kiss her cheek. The candlelight cast a warm glow over their faces, and Agatha’s smile shone bright, her eyes drawn half closed with delight

On the corkboard, was pinned a collage of other moments, each one carefully chosen. In one, the two of them stood on the sandy shores of a lake. Rio had her arm slung casually around Agatha’s shoulders, her sunglasses perched crookedly on her nose. Agatha with her hair piled high into a bun, leaned into her with a wide grin, joyful and easy.

Another snapshot of a dinner party, the table crowded with dishes and glasses. Jen had taken the shot just as Rio leaned over to whisper something to Agatha, whose smile was soft and private. Across the table, Alice was mid-toast, her expression amused as she gestured toward them.

But the photo that caught most visitors' attention hung just above Agatha’s chair. It was a portrait Jen had snapped of them in a quiet moment. Neither could remember when it was taken. Agatha sat on the edge of the sofa, her hand resting on Rio’s knee as she looked up at her with an unguarded expression. Rio, in turn, gazed at her with equal adoration, her fingers brushing a strand of hair behind Agatha’s ear. It was so intimate it  almost made the viewer feel like an intruder

The collection of photos weren’t just decorations; they were a map, a diary even. Each frame and pinned photo captured a milestone in their shared life. And in the year that had passed, they’d collected many of them.

Some grand, some private. All theirs.

Their next big fight began, as most of their spats did, with something small and entirely inconsequential.

Rio had been scrolling through her phone at the breakfast table, pausing to show Agatha a picturesque campsite—a dense forest surrounding a serene, glassy lake. “Doesn’t this look amazing? We should go camping this summer.”

Agatha, distracted by an email on her computer, barely glanced up. “Camping?” she said, her tone flat and dismissive. “I don’t do camping.”

Rio blinked, lowering her phone slightly. “What do you mean, you don’t do camping? Everyone has been camping.”

“Everyone except me, apparently,” Agatha replied breezily, taking a sip of her coffee. “Bugs, half-assed meals that you pretend are better because they’re all you have, sleeping on the ground? I fail to see the appeal.”

“It’s not just about that,” Rio said, frowning slightly. She set her phone down, her expression tightening. “It’s about getting away from everything, unplugging, reconnecting with nature. It’s peaceful.”

Agatha scoffed. “Forgive me, I don’t find peace in roughing it like some sort of pioneer.” She waved a hand dismissively, eyes still fixed on her computer. “If you want peace and serenity or whatever, I can book us a weekend at a luxury spa. You can have all the “unplugging” you want without sleeping on the ground in some hideous nylon sack.”

Rio’s jaw tightened. “It’s not about luxury, Agatha. It’s about the experience. It’s... it’s nostalgic for me, okay? My parents took me camping every summer when I was a kid. It’s one of my favorite memories.”

Agatha finally looked up, her brow slightly furrowed, as if she didn’t quite understand why Rio was so worked up over something so trivial. “And you think dragging me out into the woods is going to recreate your childhood?” she said, her tone sharper than she intended.

Rio’s face fell, the hurt flashing across her face. “Wow,” she said, her voice low. “You could’ve just said no. You didn’t have to make it sound like it’s stupid.”

“Rio, that’s not what I meant—”

“No,” Rio interrupted, standing abruptly. “I get it. It isn’t fancy enough for you. You can’t stand the idea of being uncomfortable for a single second, even if it’s important to me. Forget I said anything.”

“Rio, sit down,” Agatha said, her voice still calm but with an edge of impatience. “You’re being dramatic.”

“Dramatic?” Rio scoffed, shaking her head as she grabbed her mug and walked toward the sink. “God forbid I want to share something with you that matters to me. Forget it, Agatha. You don’t have to come. I’ll go by myself, just like I did before you.”

The words stung more than Agatha expected, and she frowned, snapping her computer closed. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, a touch of coldness creeping into her tone. “You’re making it sound like I don’t care about you just because I don’t want to sleep in a tent.”

Rio didn’t answer, her back still turned as she rinsed her mug. She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling, before she finally turned around, her expression unreadable.

“Don’t call me ridiculous,” she said quietly. “It’s not ridiculous for me to want to share something with you.”

And with that, she walked out of the kitchen, leaving Agatha alone at the table.

She heard Agatha call her name, but she ignored it as she headed out the front door.

Rio shut the door behind her harder than she intended, the echo of it rattling. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets as she walked down the block, her mind replaying the argument on a loop.

It wasn’t just about the camping. It was about the way Agatha sometimes brushed things off so casually like anything that didn’t fit her expectations of luxury and convenience couldn’t possibly matter.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and shot a quick text to Jen.

Dude. Agatha is impossible sometimes. I casually brought up going camping, and she just completely dismissed it. Like, I know she’s not the outdoorsy type, but she didn’t have to be so... condescending about it.

A reply came quickly:

You know she lives in the city for a reason, right? Bugs and dirt are kind of the opposite to her whole vibe.

Rio rolled her eyes, her grip on the phone tightening.

Thanks for the support, Jen.

Sorry, babe. But come on, you really expected Agatha to go full crunchy granola? 

Rio shoved her phone back in her pocket with a huff, her irritation bubbling over. She turned the corner toward the coffee shop they frequented, determined to distract herself and not think about Agatha for a little while.

When she reached the counter, the barista greeted her warmly, but Rio barely noticed. She rattled off her usual order, crossing her arms as she waited, still fuming.

Her phone chimed just as the barista was calling out her name. She pulled it out, expecting another unhelpful message from Jen, but instead, she saw a text from Agatha.

It wasn’t a message—just a screenshot. A reservation confirmation for the campsite two weeks from now.

Rio stared at it, her annoyance flaring all over again. Of course. This was just like Agatha. No apology, no real conversation, just a quick, expensive solution to make the problem go away. She probably thought the matter was settled now, that this grand gesture would smooth things over.

Her grip tightened on her coffee cup. The more she thought about it, the more irritated she felt. Agatha, when she was at her worst, still did this—used money to bypass the messy parts of being in a relationship. And the worst part was, Rio wanted this trip, but it didn’t feel like a win.

She was halfway out the door when she stopped abruptly. Agatha probably hadn’t even had her coffee yet. She was always more reasonable when highly caffeinated.

With a resigned sigh, Rio turned back to the counter and ordered Agatha’s usual.

When the second drink was ready, Rio took it and started back toward home, the weight of the two cups in her hands grounding her frustration. As much as she hated the way Agatha had handled things, she couldn’t ignore the effort. Maybe the camping reservation wasn’t just an expensive Band-Aid. Maybe it was Agatha trying in her own way. She’d give her the benefit of the doubt. They’d both had hard weeks at work, they were probably both just on edge.

The door clicked shut softly behind her as she stepped back into the house, the smell of freshly brewed coffee trailing her like a peace offering. She paused in the entryway, clutching both cups and rehearsing what she wanted to say. Agatha could turn anything into a sparring match, to be fair they both could, but Rio didn’t want this to escalate again. Not really.

She found Agatha in the living room, sitting cross-legged on the couch with her laptop open, a delicate frown creasing her brow. She didn’t look up, but Rio saw the way her shoulders stiffened, as if she’d been waiting for Rio to come back but wouldn’t admit it.

“Feeling better after storming out?” Agatha asked, her voice breezy but carrying an edge of disdain that made Rio’s jaw clench.

Rio took a steadying breath and walked over, setting Agatha’s coffee down on the table in front of her. “Here,” she said simply, refusing to take the bait.

Agatha finally looked up, her gaze flicking to the cup before meeting Rio’s. Her lips curved into a faint smirk. “Thank you. See? It’s settled now, so no need to worry. I’ll just make do.” She lifted the coffee like a toast before taking a sip.

The casual dismissal stung. Rio folded her arms, her grip tightening on her own cup. “Yeah, well, I won’t hold my breath. I’m sure you’ll find some excuse not to go,” she said, her voice low and cutting. “Maybe an all-too-convenient last-minute work trip. That way, you won’t have to suffer spending time with your partner who just wants to share something important with you.”

Agatha’s cup froze halfway to her lips, her expression hardening. “Excuse me?” she said, her tone icy. “Why are you being so childish about this? You got your way, Rio. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Got my way?” Rio scoffed, her voice rising. “You think this is about me winning some argument? God, Agatha, it’s not about ‘getting my way.’ It’s about feeling like you actually care enough to try, not just throw money at the problem and hope it goes away.”

Agatha’s eyes narrowed, and she set her cup down before pinching the bridge of her nose. Usually, Rio found the gesture endearing. Not today. “I am trying,” she said, her voice sharp. “Do you think I want to spend two days pretending to enjoy roughing it in the woods? I made the reservation because it’s important to you. But apparently, that’s not enough for you either.”

“It’s not enough because it feels fake!” Rio shot back. “You’re treating it like some chore you have to check off to keep me happy, and that’s not what I want. I want you to want to share this with me, not just endure it like it’s a punishment.”

Agatha’s face softened for a moment, but it was gone just as quickly, replaced by a mask of cool detachment. “I don’t see the difference,” she said, her voice quieter but still cutting. “The end result is the same. We’re going camping. Just as you wanted. Isn’t that enough?”

“No, it’s not,” Rio said, her voice breaking slightly. “Because it doesn’t feel like we’re doing it together. It feels like you’re just... humoring me.”

The silence that followed was heavy as they stared at each other, their mutual frustration hanging in the air.

Rio finally shook her head, letting out a bitter laugh. “Just forget it,” she muttered, turning toward the kitchen. “This isn’t worth it.”

“Rio—” Agatha started, but Rio was already walking away, her cup untouched on the table.

Agatha snapped, rising to her feet, her sharp voice slicing through the tense air. “Don’t walk away again! What are you going to do this time? Come back with bagels after your next little tantrum?”

Rio froze mid-step, her whole body going rigid. Slowly, she turned around, her expression dark with hurt and fury. “A tantrum?” she repeated, her voice trembling. “You think I’m throwing a tantrum? God, do you even hear yourself?”

Agatha crossed her arms defensively, lifting her chin as if daring Rio to challenge her further. “Well, what would you call it? Storming out, slamming doors—”

“I call it being hurt, Agatha!” Rio shot back, her voice rising. “Do you have any idea how many times I’ve gone out of my way, out of my comfort zone, to make you happy? Do you even realize?”

Agatha’s brow furrowed, and for a moment, she seemed genuinely taken aback. But then the coolness crept back into her voice. “Enlighten me,” she said, biting out the words.

Rio’s hands shook as she gestured wildly. “How about last month, when I went to that god-awful networking dinner with you? You know, the one where I spent three hours making small talk with people who couldn’t give a shit about me, just so you wouldn’t feel out of place? Or that stuffy gala, where I stood around in heels that nearly killed me because it mattered to you. I didn’t complain. I didn’t roll my eyes. I showed up for you because it was important. To you. ”

Agatha’s lips thinned, her eyes narrowing. “I didn’t realize we were keeping score,” she said coolly, her words like a slap.

Rio flinched, her mouth opening in disbelief before snapping shut. She shook her head, letting out a short, bitter laugh. “You know what? You just proved my point.”

“What point?” Agatha demanded, stepping closer now, her voice sharper, more insistent.

“That you don’t care, Agatha!” Rio shouted, the words bursting out of her like they’d been bottled up for too long. “Not really. You don’t care about the things I care about because they’re not your things. And when I try to explain why it matters, you just—” Her voice cracked, and she took a shaky breath. “You just brush it off like it’s some stupid, trivial thing. Like I’m some stupid, trivial thing.”

Agatha’s eyes widened, and for a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something—anything—but the words didn’t come.

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until Rio shook her head again, her throat tight. “Forget I said anything,” she muttered.

“I will not,” Agatha said, her voice wavering. “I’m sorry I came off as cold. I’m sorry I wasn’t jumping for joy at the thought of fucking up my back for a week and coming home covered in mosquito bites.”

Rio rolled her eyes. “That’s not一”

“I am sorry I upset you. But don’t fucking say I don’t care.” She softened a little bit and Rio could hear a slight shake in her voice. Agatha took a small step closer, reaching a hand out but Rio held up hers to stop her.

“I don’t want to be touched right now.”

Agatha stopped in place and let her hand drop before nodding. She swallowed hard and took a careful step back to give Rio more space. 

“Okay,” she said quietly. “I’ll respect that. But I need you to know... I’m sorry. Truly”

Rio glanced away, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t leave either.

“It isn’t silly,” Agatha said, her voice softer now. “Not if it’s upset you like this. I was wrong to treat it like it didn’t matter. That was unfair to you, and I... I hate that I made you feel like I don’t care. Because I do, Rio. So deeply. You know that right?”

Rio’s shoulders slumped slightly, the tension in her posture easing just a fraction. “You have a funny way of showing it,” she muttered, her voice tinged with lingering hurt.

“I know,” Agatha admitted, a flicker of shame crossing her face. “I don’t always get it right. I’m... I’m still figuring out how to be better at this. There’s… a lot of bad habits I’m still trying to unlearn.” She took a steadying breath, her voice gaining strength. “But I promise you, I’ll always do whatever I can to make you happy. Not just because I want to get out of the doghouse or smooth things over, but because it’s important to you. And that makes it important to me.”

Rio’s eyes flicked to her, searching her face for signs of insincerity.

“I’m keeping the reservation,” Agatha continued. “If you want me to come with you, I will. And I’ll do my best to make it a good experience. But if you’d rather take someone else, or get away on your own for a weekend, I understand that too.”

Rio blinked rapidly, her arms loosening their grip on her chest. She didn’t answer right away, and Agatha didn’t press her. Instead, she took a step back toward the door.

“I’ll give you some space,” Agatha said gently. “Think about it. I just... I hope you know I am sorry. I hate fighting, but more than that I hate hurting you.” She hesitated for a moment, then added, “I love you Rio, even when I do a shit job of showing it.”

With that, she turned and left the kitchen.

Rio stared at the empty space where Agatha had stood, her emotions still a whirlwind of hurt and frustration but slowly easing now. She went to their room and sank onto the edge of the bed, her head falling into her hands as she tried to sort through the tangled mess.

Of course, Agatha cared. She had said so, and Rio believed her. But the sting of being dismissed, even unintentionally, still lingered. She took a deep breath, willing herself to focus on the apology and not the wound that had preceded it.

Rio sat there for a while, running her hands through her hair as she replayed Agatha’s words in her head. The apology had been genuine; she couldn’t deny that. And as much as she wanted to cling to her frustration, she knew it wasn’t fair to let it fester. 

Agatha was trying. She always tried, even if she didn’t always get it right.

Letting out a deep sigh, Rio pushed herself off the bed and made her way to the shower as if she could scrub away her anger, disappointment, and hurt. As she washed her face and hair she took the time to further ground herself.

Rio let the hot water pour over her, the steam curling around her as she pressed her palms flat against the cool tile. Her anger had dulled to a faint ache, leaving behind the space to think more clearly. Agatha’s apology echoed in her mind, her partner’s voice trembling slightly, so uncharacteristic of her usual confidence.

She rinsed the soap from her hair and closed her eyes, letting her thoughts wander to the softer things she loved about Agatha. The way she always left a cup of tea on the nightstand for her, just the way she liked it. How she absentmindedly touched Rio’s back whenever they passed each other in the kitchen. How she’d stayed up with Rio every single night during her college term when she was up late studying or finishing a paper. No matter how they fell asleep, she always woke up to Agatha holding her as if she was afraid she would slip away.

Agatha did care. And she showed it daily. Maybe not in the exact ways Rio sometimes hoped for, but she cared fiercely, in her own way.

Rio thought about Agatha’s stubborn streak—the way her eyes narrowed and her jaw set when she was digging her heels in over something. It was maddening when they fought, but it was also part of what made Agatha, Agatha. That stubbornness, that fire, wasn’t just a quirk; it was a shield she’d built around herself, forged from years of having to be strong in ways most people never had to be.

Rio respected her for it. And she loved her for it, too.

Her lips twitched into a faint smile as she thought about Agatha’s passion, her knack for having an opinion on everything. It was exasperating at times, sure, but it also meant that when Agatha loved something—or someone—she did so with her whole heart. No half-measures.

Rio leaned back against the tiled wall, letting the water cascade over her as she took a steadying breath. Agatha was imperfect. So was she. But they’d chosen each other for a reason.

The realization settled something in her chest.

She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around herself as she wiped the fog from the mirror. Her reflection stared back at her, more resolute now.

She was ready to talk.

After drying off and throwing on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, Rio padded back into the living room. There she found Agatha on the sofa, her posture tense staring out the window with an uncharacteristically distant expression. Her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, and her foot tapped nervously against the floor.

Rio lingered in the doorway for a moment, taking in the rare sight of Agatha so visibly unsettled. It tugged at something in her chest, softening the last remnants of her anger.

“Hey,” Rio said quietly, stepping into the room.

Agatha’s head snapped up, and her eyes immediately searched Rio’s face for some kind of sign. “Hey,” she replied, her voice cautious.

Rio leaned against the arm of the couch, crossing her arms. “Look, I don’t want this to hang over our whole weekend. We’ve both been busy and stressed. We haven’t gotten to spend as much time together this week, and I don’t want to spend the time we do have fighting. I accept your apology.”

Relief flashed across Agatha’s face, though she tried to hide it by sitting up straighter. “Thank you,” she said, her voice steady but quieter than usual. “I mean it, Rio. I am sorry.”

Rio moved from the arm and sat on the edge of the couch, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. “I’ve been thinking,” she started, her voice calm. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have said you don’t care. You do. I know you do.”

Agatha opened her mouth, but Rio held up a hand to stop her.

“Let me finish,” Rio said gently. “I was hurt, but I know you didn’t mean to dismiss me. I know you’re trying, Agatha. And I see it. You show me you care every day. I was just... in my feelings, I guess.”

Agatha’s lips parted, but this time her expression was softer, her eyes glistening with relief. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

Rio tilted her head, studying her partner for a moment before a gentle smile broke through her stern expression. “I know you are,” she said, “So. If you want to come, I’d really like you there.”

Agatha blinked, caught off guard before a small, hesitant smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I want to,” she replied softly. “I’ll even get a canteen and one of those ugly hats with the flaps in the back. Really lean into the whole ‘roughing it’ aesthetic. I can make it work”

She chuckled. Some people would be put off by the transition from genuine apology to playful teasing. They both did it, it was a language they’d written together. A way to check in with each other, like dogs who barked a little too loud but then still wagged their tail to let you know everything was okay.

She could play along. Rio raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I’ll believe it when I see it. You know that sleeping bags have no concept of a thread count right?”

“Hey, I’ll have you know I’m incredibly adaptable,” Agatha shot back, her smile turning playful. “I’ll even drink out of a tin cup if it’ll prove my wilderness credentials.”

“Wow,” Rio said, letting out a soft laugh. “A tin cup. So hardcore. Next thing I know, you’ll be starting fires with two sticks. Put all that Survivor binging to good use.”

Agatha laughed, the sound warmer now. “Let’s not get carried away. Baby steps, my love.”

They fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the air between them no longer heavy but filled with something gentler. Agatha’s gaze drifted to the floor, her fingers twisting nervously in her lap again. “For what it’s worth,” she said, her voice softer now. “I hate the thought of you feeling like I don’t care. Because I do. More than anything.”

Rio’s chest tightened, her frustration fully melting away. She leaned towards Agatha, knocking her shoulder against hers. “I know you do,” she said quietly. “I just... I need to feel it sometimes, you know? And don’t take that to mean I don’t feel it. Of course, I do. But like in this case… my parents are dead, Agatha. There’s nothing I can do to change that. This isn’t about trying to bring those memories back. It’s about creating new ones to sit beside the ones I have. So that when I think of those times which are so bittersweet now, I’m also in the same breath thinking about you. ”

Agatha nodded, her eyes earnest and serious as she looked up at Rio. “I get it. I’ll do better.”

Rio tilted her head, her voice taking on a teasing edge. “Starting with carrying all the gear on this trip, right? I’ll just lounge by the campfire while you haul it up the trail.”

“Oh, of course,” Agatha replied, her voice dripping with mock sincerity. “And would you like me to pitch the tent too? Or is that too advanced for a rookie like me?”

Rio smirked, shaking her head. “Baby steps, remember?”

Agatha chuckled, the sound light and easy. “Noted,” she said. Then, after a beat, she asked tentatively, “Can I kiss you?”

Rio’s smirk softened into a genuine smile as she leaned in closer. “You’d better.”

Agatha didn’t need any more encouragement. She cupped Rio’s face gently, their lips meeting in a soft, lingering kiss.

“Just so you know,” Rio said, her voice teasing again, “I’m holding you to the ugly hat. And I’m taking pictures.”

Agatha laughed, her grin bright and warm. “Anything for you.”

Two weeks later, the forest was alive with the sounds of birdsong and rustling leaves as Rio confidently led the way up the trail. The sun filtered through the trees, dappling the ground with patches of light, and the air smelled fresh and earthy. Agatha trailed a few steps behind, her stylish yet sturdy hiking boots crunching against the dirt path. She adjusted the strap of her borrowed backpack and squinted at Rio's back.

“So, what’s the ETA on this magical campsite you promised?” she called out, her voice laced with playful skepticism.

Rio turned around, walking backward with an easy grin. “We’ll get there when we get there. Patience is part of the experience, babe.”

Agatha rolled her eyes dramatically. “Oh, is it? I didn’t realize waiting was the highlight of camping.”

Rio smirked. “I’d say it’s tied with hauling gear and drinking instant coffee.”

Agatha groaned theatrically, drawing a laugh from Rio. “You know I brought a thermos with me for a reason right? I refuse to drink instant coffee until it’s absolutely necessary.”

They continued up the trail, Rio pointing out different types of trees and birds as they passed. Agatha made a valiant effort to pay attention, though she couldn’t help occasionally muttering under her breath about the uneven path or the bugs buzzing around her.

When they finally reached the clearing, Agatha stopped short, her breath catching. The campsite overlooked a serene lake, its surface shimmering in the late afternoon sun. Tall pines framed the view, and the gentle lap of water against the shore added a soothing soundtrack.

“Okay,” Agatha admitted, setting her pack down with a soft thud. “I’ll give you this one. It’s... beautiful.”

Rio grinned as she shrugged off her own pack. “Told you. And now, the real fun begins. Time to pitch the tent.”

Agatha arched an eyebrow, eyeing the bag of poles and fabric suspiciously. “Do you have an instruction manual? Or is this one of those ‘figure it out and bond with nature’ situations?”

Rio chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll guide you through it.”

Agatha let out a resigned sigh but knelt beside Rio as they unpacked the tent. “For the record, I’ve never done this before.”

“I had no idea,” Rio deadpanned, handing her a tent pole.

Despite her initial grumbling, Agatha threw herself into the task with surprising enthusiasm. She followed Rio’s instructions carefully, and though there were a few moments of confusion (and one incident involving a tent pole springing loose and nearly taking out her hat), they eventually managed to get the tent standing.

Rio stepped back to admire their handiwork, her hands on her hips. “Not bad for your first time.”

Agatha dusted off her hands and gave a mock bow. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be accepting the award for ‘most improved camper’ later.”

Rio laughed, shaking her head. “Alright, let’s get the rest of set up before it gets dark.”

The evening passed in a blur of laughter as they worked together. Agatha, true to her word, eventually gamely drank instant coffee from a tin cup and joined Rio in roasting marshmallows over the campfire. She’d instantly decided she didn’t care for them, but still participated and Rio was happy to eat the extras.

“This isn’t so bad,” she admitted as she sat beside Rio, her head resting on her partner’s shoulder.

Rio smirked, poking the fire with a stick. “Told you.”

Agatha glanced up at her, a small smile tugging at her lips. “Thanks for bringing me here.”

Rio tilted her head, her expression softening as she pressed a kiss to Agatha’s temple. “Thanks for coming. You look really cure in that awful hat.”

Agatha laughed, her voice light and unguarded, as the fire crackled between them and the stars began to emerge in the night sky.

Their next trip had been an anticipated over-the-top graduation gift from Agatha. They’d had to change the date a few times, with Rio starting a new job and a wave of summer wedding and party invites. But here they were, and in the tropics, the September sun was just as warm and welcoming as any summer day.

The salty breeze carried the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore into the bungalow, their rhythm a steady, calming backdrop to Agatha’s determined fussing with the beach bag. She adjusted the straps, pulling out a towel only to tuck it back in with a muttered comment about sand getting everywhere.

Rio leaned against the doorframe of their cabana, watching her with quiet amusement. Agatha’s oversized sunhat bobbed with every motion, the floppy brim threatening to eclipse her face. Her equally oversized sunglasses perched on her nose at a precarious angle. It was a look only she could pull off, simultaneously glamorous and completely ridiculous. Rio adored her for it.

“Are you going to keep staring hot stuff or are you going to help me carry this?” Agatha called over her shoulder, her voice carrying a teasing lilt.

Rio smirked, crossing her arms. “I think you’ve got it under control.”

Agatha straightened, as she turned to face Rio. “You’re impossible, you know that?” she said, though her smile gave her away. She grabbed the beach bag, looping it over her shoulder as she stepped toward the door. “Come on, darling. The ocean’s not going to wait for us.”

“I’ll be right there,” Rio replied, her tone soft, her eyes lingering on Agatha as she stepped onto the beach.

Agatha paused for a moment, giving Rio a mock-stern look. “Don’t keep me waiting, or I’ll make you do more swim lessons.”

Rio chuckled as she watched her walk away, the sway of her stride unhurried and confident. Rio felt her chest tighten with affection.

Her hand slipped into the pocket of her shorts, her fingers curling around the small fabric pouch hidden there. She twisted it between her fingers, the familiar shape both a comfort and a source of anxiety. She’d been carrying the ring with her for weeks now, waiting for the right moment, though she wasn’t sure what “right” even meant.

The ring was simple but elegant—classic, just like Agatha. She’d picked it out on a whim after spotting it in a vintage shop window during a lunch break. She hadn’t planned on buying a ring that day, hadn’t planned on the wave of certainty that swept over her as soon as she saw it. But there it was, sitting in her pocket, waiting for her courage to catch up.

Rio exhaled deeply, pushing off the doorframe as she stepped into the sunlight. The warm sand was soft beneath her feet as she walked toward Agatha, who had already spread out a blanket and was busy smoothing it. Agatha had very strong feelings about wrinkles.

“About time,” Agatha teased, looking up as Rio approached. “I was starting to think you’d abandoned me.”

“Never,” Rio said, settling down beside her.

Agatha glanced at her, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “What’s that look for?”

Rio shrugged, leaning back on her hands as she looked out at the horizon. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

Agatha’s laughter was soft, the kind that Rio felt in her chest. “Smooth talker.”

Rio smiled, her hand brushing against the pocket where the ring rested. Maybe today, maybe not, she thought. But soon. Very soon.