Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Agatha couldn’t believe her luck. Sometimes, often, she wondered why the universe decided she should be its personal punching bag. Sure, she wasn’t exactly a sunshine and rainbows kind of gal, not exactly a good person but she was a law abiding, decorated detective. Shouldn’t that kind of public service make up for something?

The last time Agatha Harkness saw Rio Vidal was years ago. She recalls that rainy afternoon, when Agent Vidal was finally heading out of town, returning to whatever federal rat hole she crawled out of. Agatha paid her no mind, while her colleagues practically drooled over themselves, smitten with Rio’s quick wit and dry sense of humor. Sure, Agatha had also fallen for Rio’s charm, but she’d go to her grave before she’d admit it. Nope, she was way too stubborn to give in. So, she only gave the agent a curt nod when Rio’s gaze wandered the sea of blue and black uniforms, searching for Agatha. She appeared casual, perhaps to the casual observer, but Agatha could tell by the tensing in Rio’s jaw her cheap goodbye didn’t sit well with the younger woman.

Three and a half years passed by before Agatha would see Rio again. She heard Rio had started assisting with an education program of some sort, traveling the country to train cadets with the latest in forensic technology. In fact, Agatha was almost certain she’d heard Rio was in California mere weeks prior to the Rio Vidal appeared in her office doorway – that smart-ass smirk pasted on her still stupidly beautiful face. “Harkness. It’s, uh, been a while,” Rio starts, not waiting for an invitation into Agatha’s office.

Not waiting for an invitation back into Agatha’s life. That was just like Rio fucking Vidal. She told Agatha she could be in control. Agatha presumed she meant it in regards to the case, but the way Rio said it, it felt like it held another, more secret connotation. Already, Agatha felt a step behind the younger, annoyingly confident agent.

Agatha ordered the rookie, Billy Maximoff, to get Rio all the files she would require in order to get up to speed on their latest case. The only reason Rio was even here was because forensics found some stupid fancy dirt from across state lines and that always got the Fed’s panties in a bunch. “I don’t have time to babysit you while you catch up, I’ve got a lead to follow,” Agatha said, annoyance dripping from her tone.

“Catch up?” Rio asks, her brow arched. She’s seated on the edge of the rookie’s desk, holding the first of several files in her hands while Billy holds two cups of coffee in his. “I’ve read everything on the flight over. I got Maximoff here to send me all the electronic files, we’re just having coffee,” Rio grinned. “Waiting for you, Detective.” She punctuated the last word with a barely noticeable sharpness, but the pang in Agatha’s gut couldn’t have been wrong. Vidal was toying with her.

Shit, this investigation was going to be hell.

Chapter Text

The ride over to the motel was a half hour from the station, Agatha intended to pick up some possible video evidence of their victim and perp. It sat on the frontage road adjacent to the interstate, a run down little joint that mostly served truck drivers and cheating spouses. 

She’d noticed it on the way to the site where their victim was dumped and knew she’d be back to speak with whoever ran the motel. Teen, as she often called the rookie, was nagging Vidal with way too many questions about the federal bureau, but Agatha was grateful Rio was distracted. Mostly.

Every now and then Agatha felt Rio’s stare. She wouldn’t give Rio the satisfaction of daring a glance only to burn under the younger woman’s intense gaze. That said, it wasn’t like Agatha wasn’t burdened with thoughts of the woman next to her. She tried to focus just on the road, its dips and curves, and even tried tuning into Teen’s annoying voice, but not even that could pull Agatha’s attention away from recalling Rio’s last visit. 

The case was solved, and it was like Agatha could breathe again. This had been a hell of a case. But, 66 days later, they found the piece of shit responsible for a series of sex crimes committed at the local state university. It felt good when Agatha slapped those cuffs on his wrists, shoving him into the backseat of a cruiser. 

It felt good to celebrate the success of the case with her colleagues, most of them surprised they managed to get Harkness out to the bar for a drink. She’d usually shut them down, but to hell with it. Agatha was in a great mood for once, and a little whisky had sounded like a good ending to her day. It had nothing to do with knowing that Special Agent Vidal was going too. Of course she was, the station was always enamored with the feds but even Agatha knew there was something different about Rio. 

The longer they spent working on the case together, the more Agatha began to feel a pull towards Rio. She was drawn to her curiosity, her cleverness. Her dark beauty. 

In the midst of celebration, Agatha had peeled away from her colleagues to enjoy her usual ‘case-closed’ cigarette. She stepped out into the cool air, flicking her lighter and looking forward to that first sweet inhale of menthol and tobacco. Except, her lighter fizzed. She tried several more times, cursing before a flash of a flame came into her view. She turned, cigarette still hanging on her lips, and found Special Agent Rio Vidal just behind her, holding a flaming lighter. 

The next few parts are pretty blurry in Agatha’s memory, she could thank Jen’s shooters for that, but she could recall enough to get the gist of how things began. They shared the cigarette, Agatha entranced with Rio’s allure and her smile. Something about it felt so familiar. Then, they’d kissed – Agatha couldn’t remember exactly who instigated it, but it was a little hurried, a little messy but hot. Rio flagged down a cab and Agatha gave the driver her address. Rio’s hand was hot on Agatha’s inner thigh all the way home, the younger woman’s impish grin burned forever into Agatha’s memory. 

Minutes later, Agatha and Rio stumbled through her front door. They made out across the foyer, removing jackets and scarves and shoes. It was all seductive stares and rash movements and lips on skin as they made their way upstairs to Agatha’s bedroom. 

Except, Agatha was fairly drunk and the lights were off and Rio was pulling her, guiding her down the hallway. Rio practically dragged her, kissing her hard and Agatha was dizzy with the taste of Rio’s mouth, her head buzzing with nicotine and whisky and success . She didn’t realize Rio opened the door on the right , pulling Agatha into a room she rarely enters. 

The moment Agatha entered Nicky’s room, an anchor dropped from her throat to her gut. Before she could stop Rio, the woman flicked the light switch and Nicky’s room came to life. 

First, Rio glanced around before reverting to Agatha’s panicked eyes. “I’m sorry,” she uttered, moving to turn the light off. She’d already backed out of the room when Agatha rushes them into the hallway and shuts the door stronger than she intended to. The sound reverberates throughout the upper floor. “This one’s yours?” Rio asked, her hand on the door handle across from Nicky’s room, Agatha’s bedroom. 

“No, uh, I mean, yes,” Agatha stuttered, becoming more sober by the minute. 

Rio let go of the handle, stepping into Agatha’s space. She dared to put a hand on Agatha’s arm. “You can talk to me… about him, sometime, if you want,” Rio said, her voice soft, warm. 

Agatha cleared her throat, shying away from both Rio’s touch and her eyes. “I’ve, uh, had a lot to drink,” the older woman began. “I think you have, too.” 

She caught the slump in Rio’s shoulders, rejection made her look younger, smaller almost. “Agatha-“

“You should probably head back to your hotel.” Agatha interjected. “I can call you a cab.” 

“I didn’t realize it was Nicky’s roo-”

“ Do not- ,” Agatha spat, ice in her eyes and tone. “-say his name. You didn’t know him, and you don’t know me. This was… you need to leave Vidal.” She started downstairs, a wave of shame and regret washed over her. 

Rio didn’t argue, though she seemed slightly taken aback by Agatha’s curt demeanor. She apologized again and said she would call a ride. Agatha lingered between the foyer and living room as Rio dressed herself and when the taxi pulled up a moment later, the only thing she said before leaving was a simple, “Te veo”. 

Upset with Rio for trying to pry through her boundaries, upset with the world for snatching her boy from her, upset with herself, her miserable self, Agatha wept at Nicky’s door until no more tears would come.

Chapter Text

Oddly, Rio had proved herself to be more tolerable than Agatha remembered her. After speaking to the motel clerk and securing the video footage, the trio returned to the station without incident. 

Billy set out to give the footage to their IT department to clean it up and Agatha headed straight for her office, not giving Rio a chance to catch her attention. It didn’t matter, of course, because minutes later, Rio knocked as she entered Agatha’s office, a smirk on her lips. 

“You know, people usually wait to be invited inside?” Agatha asks, peering up from her computer screen. So much for tolerable. 

Shrugging, Rio shut the door behind her and sidled over to perch on the edge of Agatha’s desk. The detective huffed out, her mouth pressed into a flat line as she spun in her chair to both face Rio and widen the gap between them. She didn’t like how comfortable Rio made herself, as if she never left Westview. 

“We need to talk,” Rio begins, a brow slightly arched. 

Agatha scoffs, “is it about the case?”

“No.”

“If it’s not about the case, I’ll have to decline any offers for personal chit chat. I’m busy,” Agatha snarks. 

Rio lets out an incredulous laugh. “Oh, right. Agatha Harkness doesn’t do “personal”, how could I forget?” 

“Not sure, but I’m glad to remind you.” Agatha forces a grin. “If you’ll excuse me, Agent Vidal, I’ve got some work to do.” She gestures towards her computer then to the door. 

Rio is undeterred. “If you’re working on the case, then I’ll be glad to stay.” She leans in toward Agatha and shamelessly eyes her up and down. The gesture is unabashedly sensual and Rio’s eyes track to Agatha’s mouth before continuing, “but, Agatha, you don’t think I’ve forgotten about my last time in Westview, do you?”

“I’d rather leave the past in the past,” Agatha says, trying not to remember what kissing Rio feels like. How good it felt. How spellbound the younger woman made her feel that night and the awkward, disastrous way it ended. 

Rio considers the woman, almost dissecting her before leaning back. “That’s a shame,” she chides, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. It made Agatha’s inside twist. She hated how attractive Rio was. Rio gestures between them, “‘Cause this? Could be really fun.” She smiles devilishly. 

Agatha has to blurt something, anything out to try and distract her brain from wondering what Rio’s underthings look like. What she looks like without them. “Vidal, I’m not interested.” 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Rio’s grin cracks. Just a little. But Agatha sees it. The arrogance Rio possesses exists because she usually refuses to be told no. But Agatha can tell the blatant rejection hit a nerve she wasn’t exactly meaning to. Isn’t that always the case with Harkness though? She doesn’t deny she’s a hard ass and Rio knows it. 

“Fine,” Rio says, slipping off the edge of the desk and moving onto the couch. She crosses one leg over the other, expanding her arms across the back of the couch. “What’d you think of the clerk’s story?” 

Hours of the day pass by and Rio manages to maintain cordial conversation, and only about the case. Agatha is grateful. The last thing she really wants to try and deal with is trying to make herself not look like an idiot. 

It was something Agatha had a hard time with, just how easily Rio got under her skin. The last time Rio was in Westview helping Agatha solve a serial sexual assault case, they’d spent countless hours together. 

At the station, Rio became a fixture in Agatha’s office. Like a slow growing vine, insidious and creeping, Rio was someone Agatha barely knew one moment, and the next? She was nearly all Agatha could think about. 

What started as spending most of the working day together, grew into longer working hours. And then, they’d need a break from puzzling through the case, either exhausted or frustrated or stuck. Rio recommended it wasn’t anything a burger and shake couldn’t solve, and that was the first evening they kept each other company off the clock. It was also the first evening Rio made Agatha laugh so hard, chocolate shake almost came running out of her nose. 

Agatha didn’t laugh that way much, if at all. That kind of laugh comes from deep in her belly, whole and giddy. Rio had doubled over with her own cackling guffaw, and Agatha loved the sound of their laughs blended together. Of course, the joy of the moment would later be tainted as Agatha tried to remember the last time she laughed so hard. It didn’t take much to recall her last days of pure, unfiltered joyous laughter had been during the last few days her son was alive. 

Grief had enveloped Agatha like a shroud after Nicky had died. Her son and his untimely, no, unfair, passing plagued her spirit and stole her whole joy. It made her angry, resentful, and hard. The only time Agatha was distracted from her grief had been at work. If she wasn’t thinking about Nicky and trying to avoid her grief, Agatha was puzzling through another case. 

And that worked. For a while. Until Rio Vidal waltzed into her life like she owned the goddamned joint and decided Agatha was a perfect target for her witticisms and sarcastic, teasing humor. 

They’d met once before Rio was consulted on her case in Westview. There had been a few conferences Agatha attended where Rio was speaking. Though younger than many of her counterparts, Rio was highly lauded for her efforts in educating law enforcement teams about the magic of forensic science. She was a charismatic speaker and never once wavered when questioned, no matter how brutish or idiotic the asker was. They’d met briefly at the last conference they’d both attended, a year before Rio came to Westview. 

Admiring Rio’s gumption, Agatha was genuine when she complimented Rio’s lecture. They’d chatted for a few polite minutes before Rio was called to a Q & A panel. Before she excused herself, she shook Agatha’s hand - the kind when the person claps both hands over yours. “It was really nice to meet you, Detective.” Rio charmed. “I’d be very interested in working together one day.” Agatha nodded curtly, a little surprised, and stupidly just echoed the sentiment before Rio sauntered away. 

Agatha wouldn’t have guessed in a million years that following their meeting, she would end up working with Rio. She’d end up spending months with Rio, working long days, staking out perps in the deep, dark night. 

Initially, Agatha hadn’t cared too much about the light flirting. She was flattered, really, considering their age difference. But then, the conversations grew a little longer, a little deeper. They diverged from discussing casework to work histories and of being a woman in the field. They talked about Agatha’s controlling, hateful mother and how the detective left home as soon as she was able and never looked back. Rio told her about spending summers in Puerto Rico with her grandparents and the challenges of coming out to her traditional parents. They compared likes and dislikes, both women had a fondness for reading and plants, though it had been nearly a decade since Agatha was home long enough to keep anything alive. Agatha found it strangely easy to talk to Rio, as if Rio possessed some sort of cheat sheet on how to get the detective to tell her anything she asked. 

However, Rio never brought up Nicky. Agatha didn’t either but knew her colleagues must have told Rio the subject was off limits. God, Agatha appreciated it. That is, until she realized the more time she spent with Rio, working with Rio, thinking about Rio, she thought just a little less about Nicky.

Pursuit of anything more with Rio than their flirty work dynamic was practically a foreign concept to Agatha. She’d entertain the occasional hookup, but the idea of a relationship… wasn’t something she seriously considered after her divorce and it was the furthest thing from her mind when Nicky was alive. Truthfully, the thought of being with Rio terrified her, but in a complicated twist, it sort of thrilled her too. In a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

So, she got caught up in the moment, as her daydream of kissing Rio turned into a drunken reality. It was amazing and felt so good until it didn’t anymore. She’d almost brought Rio to bed, before the fear crept in, the guilt and sadness paralyzing Agatha. Every horrific tragedy crossed her mind in a flash and Agatha couldn’t risk heartache again. Not after losing Nicky. How could anything or anyone else really matter anymore?

Chapter Text

A few days had passed by without any development on the case. It bothered Rio because usually by now, there should have been some progress since her arrival. Furthermore, she was flustered she wasn't able to point out some sort of obvious clue the local police had missed. It was how she helped most cases. She didn’t usually put the blame to them because she knew how things were in their line of work. Short staffing, inexperienced officers, and not enough funding. 

At the Westview Police Department, the local cops did well. Surprisingly well, but Rio realizes she should have given Agatha and her team more credit. Harkness was a decorated detective, honored by the local mayor and well-accredited. Agatha was an asshole, but she was also a damn good detective. 

Rio had been tempted to flirt with Agatha a few times during the week, but refrained when she recalled the sting she felt when Agatha said she wasn’t interested. Not entirely familiar with being rejected, Rio pouted that evening with a bottle of wine and decided she wouldn’t let her feelings get involved. Besides, what feelings? She hadn’t seen the detective in over three years and things hadn’t exactly ended well the last time Rio was in town. 

She had regretted that evening for a while. Not the kissing part, but the stupidly walking into Nicky’s room part. Not just because she wanted to sleep with Agatha (though she really did). No, it was beyond being incredibly attracted to the older woman because Rio had been genuinely into Agatha. 

It wasn’t something Rio was looking for, but it became something Rio desperately yearned for. The more Agatha opened up to her, the more Rio was starting to see Agatha. Her personhood, her tendencies and irks and preferences. Underneath Agatha’s hardened exterior lay a deeply wounded but strong soul. Rio devoured every little thing she learned about Agatha, wanted to remember their conversations in detail, and she ached over the ‘what if’ of it all. 

She should have known Agatha would try to shut her down. Well, she did shut her down. And out. Rio spent weeks wondering if she should contact Agatha after she left Westview those few years ago but she never did, fearing another instance of rejection. 

While something quiet inside her secretly hoped she’d cross paths with the detective again, Rio was caught off guard when the opportunity presented itself. She went back and forth about the decision to accept the consultation, and only did when a TV news clip announced the discovery of a second dead body in Westview. She told herself it was her job, to protect and serve, and thought she could ignore the hushed voice in the back of her mind whispering, but what if now?

Rio Vidal was usually confident to a fault – she was clever, charming, and had an ass you could bounce a quarter off of. She also was thirty-eight with a dating life mostly consisting of situationships in different area codes. She’d tried doing the relationship thing but most of those ended because Rio had gotten bored of their mundane companionship or didn’t think they were worth the trouble or drama they came with. 

Until, she met Agatha Harkness. 

The first time she met Agatha at a conference, Rio had hoped to run into the detective again during the evening’s gala. She was hoping to chat with Agatha over drinks, and then invite her to her room for a nightcap where they’d hopefully, inevitably, have hot hotel sex. It’s kind of what Rio was used to when she went to conferences, one of the few reasons she enjoyed them. Nothing was hotter to Rio than the prospect of bedding an older woman in a pristine, king-sized hotel bed; having a woman be so desperate to be touched and pleasured by Rio’s skillful hands and tongue among white, crisp sheets. She was very much looking forward to enacting this exact fantasy the day she met Agatha, but was disappointed to find the detective had left the conference early to return home to continue working a case she was in the middle of. 

Rio followed the case Agatha had left for and wasn’t surprised to see it solved within the week. She did find another, eager woman to share her bed with that weekend, but she never forgot about Agatha. 

When Rio was first asked to consult in Westview, she jumped at the chance. Not only was the case interesting, but she knew the lead detective on it was none other than the Agatha Harkness. When they met, Agatha politely recalled their first encounter the year prior and though seemingly reluctant, she did voice appreciation for Rio’s expertise. 

Day by day, Rio cracked through Agatha’s walls. They got to know one another professionally, then things turned personal though Agatha didn’t make it easy at first. Rio quickly realized the best way to get Agatha to let her guard down was an ‘I’ll show you mine, if you show me yours’ approach. 

Despite Rio’s tendency for flings or hookups, communication and vulnerability '^ were not really her issue. Her family was always the family where they discussed issues instead of sweeping them under the rug. It was what made it so hard for Rio to come out - being queer was the first thing she wasn’t sure she could share with her traditional parents. Gratefully, her parents supported her and it only reinforced the importance of honesty. 

A little at a time, the two began to trust each other. As the weeks passed by and they got closer to solving the case, Rio and Agatha became closer too. It wasn’t something spoken aloud, but it existed. It was there in the way Agatha spoke more evenly with Rio than most of her colleagues, the way she respected Rio’s opinion. It was the way Rio could tease Agatha, to make a smart-ass comment or nitpick at the detective without getting a grimace or glare in return. 

Prior to Rio sabotaging what would have been an incredible night with Agatha, Rio had pondered how to express her interest in the detective. It just so happened, opportunity knocked the moment Rio offered to light Agatha’s post-case cigarette. With the help of a little liquid courage, Rio was able to initiate their first kiss. She half expected Agatha to recoil, instead the detective kissed her back with fervor and the rest was messy history. 

The recollection of their whatever-it-was marinated in Rio’s brain this morning. It soured her attitude as did the lack of movement in this case. She sat in the break room, nursing her second cup of shitty coffee. Not alone for long, Lilia, the Chief’s secretary, soon enters and pours herself a cup. Lilia settles into the seat across Rio, smelling her coffee with a pleased grin before taking a sip. “You actually like that lighter fluid?” 

“When you’ve been drinking it as long as I have, you get used to it,” Lilia laughs. Rio lifts the corner of her mouth in response, trying to hide the grimace when she has another sip. Lilia looks to Rio, “You alright, kiddo?” 

Rio shrugs. “I’d be better with a latte.” Lilia presses her lips flat, raising a brow in silent question. Rio sighs, giving in. “Just… the case, I guess.”

Lilia hums, nodding her head. “Yeah, seems like a real doozy. But you & Harkness will get to the bottom of things, you two make a pretty good team.” Rolling her eyes, Rio scoffs. Lilia’s surprised. “Oh, no?” 

Rio takes a drink, her gaze downcast. Lilia was the kind of woman who knew things. Not necessarily because you told her, but she could sense it. “Yeah,” Rio drew out in a sigh. “We’re… it’s, uh, not really the same as last time.” 

Lilia shakes her head, stirring another sugar packet into her coffee. “Is she being hard on you? Because I’ll talk to her-“

“No!” Rio interjects. “I mean, she’s hard on everyone, right? That’s kinda her thing?” She forces a half-grin. 

“It wasn’t always.” Lilia sips and stares off into the distance, like she's remembering something. 

Unable to stop her ears from perking up, Rio states, “That kinda feels hard to believe”.

Lilia sighs, recalling a different woman in Agatha Harkness. Her voice drops low, “When you lose a child, I think a piece of you gets lost with them.” 

Rio hesitates, then asks, “can I ask… when he passed?” 

Lilia, a gloominess darkening her features, sips her mug before answering. “Almost eight years ago? He caught the flu and his immune system just couldn’t handle it.” They both turn as the door across the station squeals open and Agatha enters, a Starbucks in one hand and a croissant in the other. She’s got her phone pinned between her shoulder and ear, yapping loudly to some poor soul on the receiving end of her impatience. 

The two women watch as Agatha hurries to her office, dodging Billy with a tray full of cookies and Alice escorting out a painfully sober man from the drunk tank. Lilia faces Rio once more. 

“He had leukemia,” she adds, answering Rio’s question before the agent gets to ask. “He was always kind of a sickly little thing, poor baby.” Lilia sighs, then smiles. “He was a really good kid. He had such a beautiful singing voice, I mean truly, the voice of an angel.” Lilia’s grin is wistful for a moment, then falls in pained memory. “Nicky’s passing… it hardened her. She’s a strong woman, smart as a whip, and determined as all hell… but her light just isn’t there anymore, you know?” 

Rio digested Lilia’s words. She never knew Agatha well prior to Nicky’s passing, they’d only been in one another’s orbit for around four years. Rio felt an ache in her chest, something deep that yearned to see what Agatha was like before her son died, to see her happy and whole. 

“Yeah, I uh… get what you mean.” Rio made an excuse to leave, Lilia telling her to keep her chin up. She encouraged Rio they’d get a great lead soon, she had a gut feeling about it. Rio hoped she was right, but not even Lilia’s positive premonition could lift the sourness from Rio’s mood. 

She walked past Billy’s desk, grabbing two cookies while he and Jen gushed over his latest recipe. Apparently, he was the station’s standard supplier of sweets. Rio eyeballed Agatha through her partially open door. She was on the phone still, face contorting into one annoyed expression after the other. It was kind of funny, in that endearing sort of way. Rio neutralized her amusement as she approached Agatha’s office. Standing at the doorway, she waited until she caught Agatha’s attention. The detective nodded her in, not stopping her conversation. Rio set a cookie on Agatha’s desk, pushing it with her fingertip towards the woman in the chair. Agatha’s brow quirked a little and she gave Rio a tight smile, raising the cookie in thanks before taking a bite. 

Sensing a white flag, Rio decided to sit on the couch and ate her cookie while Agatha finished. Once Agatha hung up, she let out a dramatic groan. Rio asked who the caller was and Agatha replied, “the damn assistant DA! God, that little prick is such a pain in my ass.” Rio couldn’t help but laugh. Agatha leaned back in her chair, scoffing. “Glad I could entertain, Vidal.” Her flat tone was laced with sarcasm, but it didn’t hide the upturned corner of her mouth. 

Agatha explained the assistant DA was pressuring her to attend a press conference this afternoon with the chief. She wouldn’t have to answer questions, she’d get away with the ol’ ‘this is an active investigation’ schtick. Nevertheless, Agatha hated press conferences. Rio recalled this from their last case together. 

“And,” Agatha adds, “he’s making me bring you. He wants to show you off to the press.”

Rio understood. She would be there as a show of force, to demonstrate to the public how serious the police and the DA’s office was about apprehending this killer. “Am I expected to speak to them?” Rio asks. 

“The press?” Agatha asks. Rio nods and Agatha shakes her head. “No, you just have to stand behind us and look pretty-“

“Detective,” Rio interrupts, feigning shock followed by a smirk. “You think I’m pretty?” 

“Pretty annoying,” Agatha quips, an unamused expression. 

Rio chuckles, tickled by the banter, tempted to press further. The back-and-forth was nice, a little more familiar to Rio than the icy aura Agatha had been emitting all week. “All right, Agatha, I’ll let you show me off, but then you owe me something in return.”

Okay, maybe Rio was willing to press further. It was too tempting. 

Agatha, bothered at the very least, pissed at the worst, scowls at her from across the office. “Owe you? For doing your job, Vidal?” She hammers on the last syllable. 

Where most people would find this sort of sting painful, it excites Rio. Sure, Agatha could be mean. She had a mouth like a sailor and a bite like a cobra, but fuck, was she hot. 

Most days Agatha wore jeans to work. Dark blue or black, the kind that hugged her hips just enough to tell she had curves. The few times Agatha shed her outer layer and wore a tee shirt, Rio saw freckles dotting both forearms and a scar on her left elbow. Rio imagined running her fingertips among those freckles, tracing constellations in them. 

“Press conferences are not a part of my routine consultation services,” Rio gives the sneering woman a saccharine smile. “I’m only required when my boss tells me to, anything beyond that is up to me.” Rio arches a brow, challenging the detective. 

Rolling her eyes, Agatha groans. “What do you want?” 

Casually, Rio says, “afterwards, we grab a drink.” 

“No.”

Rio riles, brows now furrow. “Why not?”

“Because,” Agatha draws out, moving on to log into her computer. “I don’t ‘go get drinks’ with colleagues.” She uses finger quotations in a way that makes Rio want to throw something at her. 

Rio stands and moves to put her hands on the desk. “Afraid you’ll have fun?” She pushes, daring closer to dangerous territory. 

She catches Agatha’s body tense all over, clearly picking up on her insinuation. Remember that night, what could have been? 

“On second thought, maybe you should stay behind,” Agatha grippes, clacking on the keyboard louder than necessary. 

Steering her ship in the wrong direction, Rio catches her mistake and walks around to the side of Agatha’s desk. There, she perches on the corner, a respectable but still intimate distance away. “Come on, it’s just one drink, I promise,” Rio tries again. 

Agatha returns her attention once more, incredulous. “Why? So I can spend unpaid time being bothered by you?“

“Maybe if you pull that stick out of your ass,” Rio grins, leaning forward with wide eyes, playing into whatever little game they’ve entered. “You’ll remember that I’m actually quite good company, being both hilarious and charming.” 

Almost barely noticeable, the corner of Agatha’s mouth upturns. Rio’s belly leaps at the evidence of success. “And so modest.”

“The most modest,” Rio says with a serious expression. It only lasts a second because she lets out a breathy chuckle and asks once more, “Just a drink, as colleagues? Friends?” 

“Don’t push it, Vidal,” Agatha warns, “colleagues will do. Now get your ass off my desk, I’ve got a press conference to prep for.” 

Rio hops off and is almost out the door, when Agatha mutters, “and you’re buying!”

Chapter Text

The press conference went about as well as the police department could ask. The Chief gave enough information to answer the basics, but as expected, left out most of the details. He introduced Agatha as the lead detective and she spied a group of reporters whispering among themselves. She only refrained from rolling her eyes because there were news cameras. 

When the Chief introduced Rio, the agent stepped a half-step forward with a polite wave and a practiced smile. The Chief was sure to boast about Rio’s credentials but tried to ensure her consultation was routine procedure because of some evidence they had. He didn’t want the town thinking they needed the FBI, more so the FBI just had to help because of protocol. 

It was partially true, but the Chief conveniently left out the bit about the DA’s office pressuring the department to let the FBI take control. A.K.A. Rio Vidal. 

Over my dead body, Agatha promised herself. She didn’t need Rio but she wasn’t stupid enough to put her own ego above Rio’s access to special resources. She had a job to do and would not allow her personal dislikes to interfere. 

They’d wrapped up the conference without having to speak to the press except to repeat variations of ‘no comment’ and ‘this is an active investigation, we cannot answer at this time’. They waded through the eager reporters and Agatha drove them in her cruiser to a local bar. The Hideaway. 

Agatha ordered a pint and Rio ordered a whiskey with coke. Rio had convinced Agatha to play a round of darts. Adjacent to the bar was a rectangular, semi-private alcove wide enough to house two dart boards. 

Rio picked up the black darts and twirled one in her fingertips. “Know how to play?” 

Swallowing a sip of her beer, Agatha shook her head. “Nope, but I was on the department’s softball team once upon a time, so I can throw.” 

“Softball, huh?” Rio laughs, practicing her aim with one eye closed. “It’s not really a throw, more like a forceful toss.” She releases the dart in a swift movement and it hits the ring outside the bullseye. 

Agatha isn’t that impressed, they both have required gun training and safety courses required yearly. Her aim was good, perhaps a little rusty. She takes another long swig of her beer before stepping up to take Rio’s spot. “That’s a throw, but semantics.” She throws the dart but it bounces off the edge of the board and clatters to the ground. “Cheap plastic shit,” she curses. She turns to see Rio sipping on her straw, gazing at Agatha with the most smug expression. Her chocolate eyes almost twinkle with delight. 

“Yeah, semantics,” Rio teases, shrugging. 

They play back and forth, Rio demolishing Agatha in the first round. The last dart Agatha throws is the best of them all and Rio compliments her on it. She’s grateful for the chance to hide the blush beneath the dimmed bar lights.

In a public place, they can’t really talk about the case. Agatha chooses the safe subject of Rio’s recent travels. 

Rio, plays along, knowing she’ll have to ease into more meaningful conversation or better yet, some teasing with a big side of flirting. 

Despite Agatha’s brash rejection of her, Rio sees through the bullshit. She’s lost count of how many times she’s felt the older woman’s eyes on her this week. Not just curiously watching. Rio caught Agatha checking her out at least twice. Though Agatha made her gripe with the FBI agent well known, it wasn’t like Agatha avoided Rio. After all, Agatha did agree to let Rio buy her a drink. 

During the second round, Rio offers some pointers and Agatha begrudgingly accepts. She does improve, but Rio continues her winner’s streak. 

As Rio pulls darts from the board, a realization hits her. Was this the bar from that night? Granted, Westview wasn’t teeming with nightlife but there were other bars in town. When she turns to ask Agatha about it, Agatha’s eyes snap up and she quickly grabs her beer to down a gulp. 

Agatha was definitely staring at her ass. Rio smiles evenly, pretending not to notice. She’d rather up the ante a little before testing Agatha’s resolve further. 

In the third round, the gap between their scores is the smallest it’s been. Agatha grows bolder with her last toss but still hasn’t hit a bullseye. She takes the last swig of her beer as Rio sips on her watered-down cocktail. “You might be getting better, Harkness. You may even beat me one day if you keep practicing.” She’s smug when she says it, testing those waters with a toe. 

Agatha scoffs, then chuckles. “You sound threatened, Vidal.” She throws the dart and it sinks into the board, edging the gap closer still. “Ha!” She yelps. Agatha turns, brow raised and readies to boast at her success. 

Rio’s emptied her drink and has its cherry garnish by the stem and puts it between her teeth. Its red color highlights Rio’s tiny gap between her front teeth and the way her lips curl around the fruit… Agatha could imagine what Rio looks like putting those same lips over something else. 

Shit. Agatha is momentarily frozen in space as Rio plucks the cherry from the stem, grinning wickedly. “I’d only be threatened if your skills actually outmatched mine,” she chews, then swallows. Agatha’s surprised when Rio pops the stem in her mouth too. “Though, darts are only one of my many talents,” Rio continues, stepping closer to Agatha. 

Absent-mindedly playing with a dart, Agatha tries to retract herself from Rio’s spell. Why couldn’t the FBI have sent some old fart instead of their sexiest agent? 

“I can show you more of my talents, sometime,” Rio tantalizes. She purses her lips and removes the cherry stem from her mouth. In the center, lies a knot. She offers it to Agatha like a flower, proud of her work. “Here, proof.” 

Rio didn’t need to tie the stem with her tongue to show Agatha just how talented she was. Agatha remembers what it was like, kissing Rio and recalls her to be very good with her tongue. With that memory, Agatha’s willpower wavers.

She takes the stem from Rio’s outstretched fingers and flicks it back at the agent. “Gross,” she says, feigning disgust. Rio laughs. “Do you antagonize all the detectives you work with?” Agatha remarks, facing forward again to aim another dart at the board. 

Rio is behind her quicker than she can react, her left hand on Agatha’s waist, her right gently guiding her elbow to adjust the aim. She isn’t whispering, but her voice lowers when she says, “Only the ones I find attractive.” 

Agatha tosses the dart, almost hitting the center. Rio doesn’t move, not her body or her hand from Agatha’s waist. “Which, at the moment, just happens to be one very grumpy detective.” The touch feels hot even through the denim. She feels Rio press into her, her free hand tucks a loose strand of hair behind Agatha’s ear. The feather-light caress sends tingles down Agatha’s spine and she involuntarily shivers, closing her eyes tight as she internally chastises her body for its reaction. 

“Perhaps,” Agatha opens her eyes, trying to steel herself as she readies to aim another dart. She’s ignoring Rio’s closeness - never one to back down from a challenge. “She’s grumpy because she’s under a lotta pressure trying to solve a pretty important case.” She flings the dart and it’s further out on the ring but still a decent shot. 

Rio walks her fingers up Agatha’s back to then poke at her triceps. “All this stress will send you to an early grave, sweetheart,” Rio coos. Both hands now rest on Agatha’s shoulders and she squeezes slow but firm. The sounds of the bar start to diminish, Agatha exhales at the sweet relief of Rio’s soothing, strong hands. Fuck. 

Rio kneads her tense muscles and time stutters. “Maybe I could help you… work out some of the stress?” Agatha bites her lip to hold in a groan as Rio pushes her thumb into a particularly sore knot. 

“Yeah,” Agatha mused, “and how exactly could you help?” She didn’t want to give in but Rio’s hands felt so damn good. 

She felt Rio purr into her hair. “Oh, I have a few ideas…” Rio’s hands drop to her waist again, tugging Agatha toward her own. “You could…” Rio rolls her hips into Agatha’s. “Have a nightcap,” Rio sighs into Agatha’s shoulder, “let me just… massage all that stress away.” 

Agatha is spellbound. She laughs breathily, pulling away from Rio, trying to be cool, but not so much as to break herself free from Rio’s hands. A lick of heat lashes up from Agatha’s core when Rio responds, “but if you really need a release, I can think of a dozen different ways to make that happen.” 

In this very moment, Agatha can’t deny the want which aches between her legs. If Rio was someone she met that night? She’d be calling a cab to take them home where she could properly ravish said woman. 

But, it was Rio. 

Rio wasn’t just any woman. Rio was more, no matter how much Agatha tried to deny it. Agatha stepped forward, hoping distance would dampen the buzz. She shrugged Rio’s hands away, turning to the younger woman. 

She was nearly taken aback at Rio’s beauty - the bar lamp glows orange, high-lighting her cheekbones and full lips. It would be so easy to close the gap between them. To connect their lips and give into the magnetic pull drawing Agatha to Rio. “If you let me take you back to my hotel, I can show you exactly what I mean.” Rio glances to Agatha’s lips before inching forward to capture them, but Agatha retreats suddenly, as if awoken from Rio’s spell. 

Everything is still and silent for a heartbeat, Agatha catching the disappointment in Rio’s face. Then, the sounds of the bar come crashing in - the country music over the crackling speaker, the regulars ordering another round of cheap beer, the taps whooshing soda and tonic into glasses of bourbon or vodka. “I- I can’t, Rio,” Agatha whispers, swallowing something that tastes a lot like shame. 

Rio seems bothered, insulted maybe. “You can’t? Or you won’t?” 

“What’s it matter if the outcome is the same?” Agatha dodges, stepping away to toss her remaining darts in their basket. 

Rio doesn’t bother to acknowledge the question, perhaps she doesn’t want to acknowledge the answer either. She picks up her jacket from the stool and nods toward the bar. “I’ll close our tab, meet you out front.” 

Alone now, Agatha lets out the groaning sigh she was holding in, rubbing the spot on her chest. The nagging voice in the back of her mind keeps pestering, but, what if? 

The ride to the hotel is awkward, Rio doesn’t look at her and Agatha doesn’t blame her. The county’s light rock station plays on the radio, a medium volume to try and drown out Agatha’s overthinking and the unbearable echo of silence as Rio gives her the cold shoulder. 

By the time Agatha pulls into the parking lot, she’s restless from fighting to honor her decision to not be involved with Rio. Yet, she lingers over how easy it’d be to follow Rio inside and finally scratch the itch that’s been driving her nearly crazy. 

Rio thanks Agatha for the ride, giving Agatha a short glance and weak sarcastic salute as she goes to exit. Agatha grabs her arm and stops her. There is a painful moment of stilted silence before Rio widens her eyes, “What?”

“I can’t- I don’t understand what you want from me,” Agatha says, letting go of her arm. “Why you even bother?” 

Rio relaxes into the seat, narrowing her eyes in a mixed expression of sympathy and confusion. “What’s harder for you? Trying to ignore how much I want to fuck you or knowing I’d be interested in more than that?” 

Agatha feels exposed, splayed out and naked. She shifts in her seat, eyes dropping to stare at the steering wheel. She fucking hates this. She hates how effortlessly Rio sees her. 

“Agatha, let me make myself clear,” Rio says. Her tone is stern, irritated even. “If you stopped being a stubborn asshole for a sec, I’d bring you into that hotel room,” Rio points with her index finger, the temperature in the cruiser rising. “And I would fuck you senseless.” Agatha releases a shaking breath. “And then, after your senses return, maybe you'll finally realize it’s not impossible for me to actually be fucking into you.” It’s quiet except for the radio. 

Agatha shifts her gaze from the steering wheel to the blinking VACANCY sign across the parking lot. She swallows, her throat dry. “I don’t- I don’t think you want- You don’t want-“

“Don’t you dare try to tell me what I want,” Rio’s is icier by the moment. Rio puts her hand on Agatha’s forearm and grips it fiercely. “What I want is for you to stop making this seem so one-sided!” 

Agatha shakes her head, retracting her arm from Rio’s grasp. Rio lets her and scoffs, “Honestly?” She unlatches the door handle, glaring over her shoulder as she exits. “Fuck you, Agatha.” 

The insult forces Agatha to glare at Rio through the open door. “No!” She says. Agatha unbuckles her seatbelt and pushes on the console to lean into the passenger space. “No, fuck you! I told you, you shoulda left the past in the god-damn past!”  

Rio is standing outside, half leaning in the cruiser, right hand on the door and the other braced on the passenger seat. “Because you’re a fucking coward, Agatha!” 

If being told to fuck off by Rio insulted Agatha, being called a fucking coward by her lit a twin flame of bitter anger and devastating anguish within her. 

It was true. Agatha was a coward. 

But, Agatha shoved this cowardice into the same deep, dark place she tried to bury grief in. It makes her primal.

So, she attacks.

Within two quick movements, her hands snatch Rio’s lapels and crush their lips together. Rio releases the door and leans into Agatha, arms searching for purchase on the seat. Agatha pushes her tongue into Rio’s mouth, stroking it against Rio’s own. She doesn’t bother hiding the tiny groan escaping her throat, Rio could probably feel it more than hear it anyway. Somehow Agatha’s left hand has found itself in Rio’s hair, fingers digging into the scalp at the base of her skull. She tightens her hand a little and the pull has Rio moaning now. In response, Agatha feels Rio’s teeth against her own as the agent deepens her kiss. Suddenly, Agatha feels her teeth again when she takes Agatha’s bottom lip between them and bites. Hard. 

Agatha yanks Rio’s head back from hers, glaring at Rio with an open mouth. “What the fuck?” She lets go of Rio’s hair and touches her lip. It’s not bleeding but it will likely swell a bit. 

Rio has that fucking obnoxious shit-eating grin plastered on her face and chuckles almost too devilishly. “So you are into me?” She tries to get back into the vehicle but Agatha holds her hands out, blocking her and swatting her away. 

“Nope, get out,” Agatha pushes. “Get-get the fuck out of my car.” The panic causes her gut to ache and Rio’s amusement makes her skin burn with animosity.

Rio obeys but leans into the car far enough so both her hands rest on the center console now. “Look, at the minimum, you want to fuck me. Best case, I get to take you out for real. Really a win-win for me-“

Agatha pushes Rio by the shoulders, “I’m driving away now and have zero problem running over a federal agent!” 

Rio laughs as she stands outside the door, still leaning down to peer inside. Agatha shifts the car into drive and releases the break. Rio jumps a little at the sensation of the moving vehicle as Agatha issues more verbal warnings, but continues to find humor in Agatha’s embarrassment. She shuts the passenger door with a slam. “Well, it’s a win-win for you too, I mean considering,” Rio gestures at her body with one hand, then circles the air in front of her face with the other.

Agatha grimaces at her arrogance. Almost free! Except Rio left the god-damned window down and taunts her through it. “Why are you so reluctant, Agatha? You kiss me like you want to devour me and then want me to fuck off? Is this hot-and-cold thing a turn on for you?” Her smile is wicked and proud. “I can get on board with that.” Agatha feels like she’s on a spit, being roasted alive. 

“No,” Agatha seethes. “It’s one of the dumber mistakes I seem to keep making. But you know what, Rio?” The woman raises her brow, daring Agatha. “Don’t worry, because you can bet I won’t make it again.” 

Though this declaration doesn’t quite pack the punch Agatha intended it to, it does get Rio to release the door and step back. “All right, Agatha. If you say so,” she sings.

She turns and walks toward her room before Agatha can grunt out a snippy reply. The detective exhales with a cry of frustration, thoroughly irked. Agatha zooms out of the parking lot with her bitten lip throbbing. It aches with every beat of her heart. Agatha laments at her lapse in rational thinking but, as she settles into bed, her mind drifts away with the thought of Rio’s lips upon her own. 

Chapter Text

The next morning, Agatha and her team meet to discuss next steps. With the mounting pressure from the DA’s office, Agatha is determined to find something, anything, to get them their next lead. 

Jennifer Kale, one of the department’s more capable investigators, has compiled data about both victims’ close contacts. She’s arranged about a dozen interviews for the day. Agatha’s already dreading it because it means all day in a small room with Rio. 

The detective spent the better part of her morning holed up in her office with the door closed. It doesn’t mean she hasn’t been regularly interrupted, because she has, but it provided a little space for her to muster up the gumption to sit across Rio without feeling like her skin is on fire. 

In typical Rio fashion, any time their eyes met, the corner of her lip would curl into a knowing smile. 

Agatha is trying to pay attention to Jen’s brief of their interviewees, when she notices Rio looking at her again. This time, she deliberately but smoothly bites her lower lip. Agatha’s jaw clenches. She crosses her arms, putting a hand on her chest and rubbing the one spot she always does when she’s bothered. 

It was another irritating half an hour before Agatha is free from the stupid meeting, relief washing over her for a moment’s peace. 

She’s alone in the break room, waiting for the coffee to finish brewing. She presses her lips together and though not bruised or swollen, the tenderness from Rio’s bite remains. A sore reminder of her foolishness. 

Tapping her fingers against the counter, impatient and grossly under-caffeinated, she huffs out a groan of frustration. She fetches her mug to pour some creamer while she waits. The dripping of the coffee maker is soon accompanied by steady footsteps. She pauses, holding the creamer in one hand as she bites her tongue, trying her best to refrain from lashing out. 

Rio. 

Certainly, she’s come to continue her never-ending parade of annoyance. Not even a moment later, Agatha feels a tickling sensation, her hair being played with, and flinches when she feels the press of fingertips on her back. She turns, swatting Rio’s hand away. “Don’t-“

“Gimme some sugar?” Rio asks, the corner of her mouth quirks up. She unabashedly glances at Agatha's lips before returning her challenging stare. 

“Get lost, Vidal,” Agatha scoffs. Rio’s arrogance was incredibly aggravating. 

Rio reaches forward, feigning naivety, “Couldn’t pass me a packet? Geez!” She leans into Agatha’s space, not quite touching her but only a centimeter apart. She fishes a brown sugar packet out of a wire basket next to the coffee pot. 

Agatha sees right past the act. “Look, I’m going to need you to not make this whole thing more difficult than it already is.” Her voice is low, secretive because she will be damned if anyone in the department ever finds out they’ve kissed. Again. Jennifer would never let her live it down. 

Hand on her hip, Rio sips her coffee with a defiant sparkle in her eye. “What about my being here makes it difficult? Is it the access to some of the best forensic science and federal resources that bothers you?” She sets the cup down, wiping the corner of her lip with her thumb. She dares to step forward. Agatha’s brain is yelling at her to get back, because this, this is exactly how Rio operates.

The urge to press Agatha’s buttons proves too tempting for Rio and since Agatha didn’t leap away at her proximity, Rio wants to see if she can go a little further. It thrills her, to get under Agatha’s skin. She dips the tip of her index finger just inside the front pocket on Agatha’s jeans, sliding it in slowly as she speaks in a quiet but sensuous tone. “Or, is it because you find it so difficult to restrain yourself around me?” Her smile is wide, cat-like and Agatha feels caught. 

“More like I find it so difficult not to want to strangle you,” Agatha snaps, grabbing Rio’s wrist. 

“Ooh, kinky,” Rio laughs. 

“Vidal, I swear to God-”

The mounting tension between them cracks when they hear voices approaching. Right as the door to the break room opens, Agatha puts an overly respectable distance between them. 

It’s Teen and Alice, both with empty mugs in hand and the young man beams at them. “Smells fresh,” he says, oblivious to the awkward glances and energy that sits in the room. Agatha is quick to release her grip on Rio’s wrist. 

Unlike the young rookie, Alice picks up on the tension and asks, “uh, were you guys about to kill each other?” 

Rio lets out a little snort-laugh and Agatha grimaces. “Yeah, I tried putting rat poison in her coffee but she caught me. Oh well.” She is putting everything into pretending Rio wasn’t winding a coil deep in her belly. Like Rio wasn’t making the room a hundred degrees with the way her slacks hugged her ass and how a simple button down shirt flattered her toned arms so well.  

Fuck, Agatha thought. Her attraction to Rio Vidal was far from over, she couldn’t deny it to herself any longer. But, it didn’t mean she had to act on it. Not this time. 

Hours later, in the observation room, Rio Vidal paces while Agatha interviews a family member of the second victim. She has a notepad splayed open on the desk, with some notations jot down in her looping, sloppy handwriting. 

This was their third interview and by far the longest. Agatha, with her well-timed “mhmm’s” and the occasional encouraging “please, continue’s”, made this part of the job look like a cake walk. 

Rio had done the last interview. It was much shorter but it didn’t change the fact that Agatha had to watch Rio for its entirety. It turns out, Rio felt rather uncomfortable on the other side of the glass. She much preferred having the upper hand on Agatha when she could — it’s what made poking at her so enticing. But, Rio wasn’t foolish enough to continue that level of torment when she knew their day would be torturous enough.

These family interviews were usually some of the toughest — the heavy emotions, often shock and disgust, sometimes sadness and grief. And far too commonly, anger. 

Rio had much preferred partnered interviewing, even on those who weren’t necessarily suspects, but Agatha put her foot down at the idea. She claimed she didn’t want to intimidate the interviewees with “the feds”. Though, she couldn’t argue further when the Chief directed Agatha to “play nice and let Agent Vidal do her job, Harkness!” 

After her interview, Rio told Agatha she could do as many of the interviews as she wanted. When Agatha questioned this, Rio just shrugged and said, “I don’t want to intimidate anyone.” She tried to play it cool, but it felt very forced. 

She watched Agatha interview person after person, through a rushed sandwich lunch and two more coffees, powered through late into the afternoon. 

When the last interviewee leaves, escorted out by Agatha herself, the detective returns to see Rio exiting the observation room. “Did you enjoy creeping on me all day, Vidal?” 

Rio can’t decide if it’s playful or not, so she opts to play it up.  “I enjoyed doing my job, gathering more information about our victims,” she says evenly, “though, watching your ass in those jeans was certainly a treat.” She eyes Agatha obviously, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. 

With a furrowed brow, Agatha grabs Rio’s arm and shoves her back into the observation room. “Hey! Ow!” Rio yelps at the rough-housing. 

“Oh, shut up,” Agatha sneers. “I don’t get you-“

“What-“

Agatha holds up her hand. “Just don’t. Okay?” Rio silently crosses her arms, hackles raised at Agatha’s abrasiveness. “I don’t get why you think anything could come from this. I already told you, I’m not interested-“

“See, that’s where I get confused,” Rio interrupts, narrowing her gaze and pointing a finger toward Agatha. 

“What?”

“You say you’re ‘not interested’,” Rio dramatically uses air quotes. “And yet, you kissed me last night.” 

Agatha grits her teeth. “Obviously a lapse in judgment.” 

The agent laughs, “Right.” She steps closer to Agatha, their faces only another step apart from being inches away. “So,” Rio coos. She reaches up and brushes a strand of Agatha’s hair behind her ear. When the hair is secured, she flashes a glance to Agatha’s lips, her expression softening. Wanting. 

“Do you kiss all the agents you work with? Or just the ones you’re not interested in?” 

Agatha is caught, she thinks. Like a rabbit in a snare. “I shouldn’t have,” Agatha utters it like a confession. 

Rio, kindness warming her chocolate eyes, brushes Agatha’s hand with her own. “Yes, you should have. I wanted you to.” 

At this, Agatha’s brain cells start working again and reality snaps like a rubber band. She retreats, one, then two steps. She clears her throat, “No, I mean it.” She rubs her brow and a stone grows in her belly. 

“I mean I’m not interested, as in, I’m not… looking for anything.” She explains. “Not a relationship, not a hookup or a friend with benefits… I mean, nothing. I’m just-,” Agatha inhales, clenching her hand in a fist to steady herself. “So, just don’t, Rio-“

“Agatha, I just want to-“

“I said, don’t” Agatha warns. Then, she brushes past Rio and out the door, making a beeline for her office. 

Inside, she shuts the door, locks it, and rests her head on the frame. “What a fucking mess,” she whispers to her empty office.

Chapter Text

The rest of Agatha’s week went more smoothly, to her surprise. There were some developments in the case that while small, at least moved the case forward. It alleviated some of her stress, but the awkward confrontation she had with Rio earlier in the week weighed heavy on her. 

She tried to ignore it, tried to push the nagging thoughts of Rio and their kiss away but it wasn’t easy when the agent was so involved with the case. On the contrary, Rio seemed completely unbothered after their chat. Which irritated Agatha more. It wasn’t fair Rio could stoke these fires and get away without getting burned. 

Though Agatha was engrossed in solving this case, she grew restless and frustrated when her thoughts would inevitably turn to Rio. She hated how bothered she was when Rio wasn’t flirting with her, but was a different kind of bothered when she dared to. 

This conflict sprouted and spread like wild vines in Agatha’s mind - her mixed feelings about Rio resulting in restless nights. It also resulted in Agatha’s aim to pour nearly all of her energy into the case. 

Such was the situation she found herself in tonight…

It was late and most of the station had headed home for the evening. But not Harkness - she was in the zone. Her desk was a mess of paperwork, her laptop with at least twelve tabs open and fresh coffee steaming in her cup. Though, Agatha was growing more impatient by the minute. 

IT had finally pulled their heads out of their asses and got her the revised motel footage she’d been harassing them about a couple hours ago. She was two hours into reviewing the video footage when footsteps broke her out of her fixation. 

A moment later, Rio was in her doorway, hanging on the frame with an iPad in her other hand. “Hey, I was listening to the tip line and we got this really weird audio. I think you should hear it.” 

Agatha nodded but Rio didn’t hesitate to sit on the couch. She taps the screen with her index finger. Agatha considers her while she sits, the younger woman’s big brown eyes focused on accessing her findings. Rio’s in black jeans tapered at the ankle, and in opposition to her usual (delightfully) snug white button-down, she wears a light gray sweatshirt with initials “FBI” on the front in navy lettering. Her hair is tied up in a messy buy, strands hanging loose around her neck and face. Agatha wasn’t sure if she’d ever seen Rio look so… 

Fucking cute. Agatha almost gags at her own reaction. She should not be thinking the world’s most aggravating FBI agent, Rio Vidal, is cute. What the fuck am I? Fourteen? Agatha grimaces, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“Today would be great, Vidal,” Agatha harps, attempting to shutter away any thoughts of what Rio would look like at home, cozy and relaxed. 

Rio glowers at her, “This isn’t my only case I’m consulted on, you know.” She flicks at the screen sharply. “So, be patient. You’re lucky they even sent me in person.”

Rolling her eyes, Agatha bemoans Rio’s self-importance. “By all means, you’re welcome to go back to Quantico.” The lie tastes sour in Agatha’s mouth. 

Rio stops, a shit-eating grin on her stupid perfect face. “And miss the chance to torture you every day, all day, for the next few weeks? How could I? Shit, it could be months, at the rate this investigation is going.” 

Agatha sneers. She draws the line at criticizing the way she ran her investigation. She shoots up from her chair and maneuvers around the desk with purpose. She points at Vidal, the woman’s features flat, unbothered. “The only reason you got sent here was because the Governor wants to bury any notion that Jersey might have a serial killer before his re-election.” 

Rio scoffs. “And the only reason there might be a serial killer is because this department hasn’t caught the guy that’s brutally murdered two women in two months-”

“We’re a small department, Vidal,” Agatha cuts in. “We’re not exactly swimming in resources here!” 

Rio stands up, challenging Agatha. “If only there was a federal department dedicated to helping local precincts solve crimes they don’t have the staff, experience, or equipment for. Imagine.” She punctuates the last word with a saccharine smile that makes Agatha want to hit her in the teeth. 

Glaring but refusing to admit Vidal’s point, Agatha moves past her to sit on the far end of the small office couch. “Are you going to play the tape or keep wasting my time?”

Rio huffs out and looks thoroughly annoyed at Agatha’s quick dismal of their spat. Good. 

She joins Agatha on the couch and balances the tablet on her knee. “It came in last night, just after midnight. There’s a lot of static, it’s definitely pre-recorded and digitally altered.” She brings up a screen with some sort of software Agatha isn’t familiar with. Rio presses ‘play’ on tip number forty-three. 

It’s static for several moments, the two sleuths listen carefully. Then the static turns to a crackling sound. “Is that… fire?” Agatha asks. Rio nods, turning the volume up another notch. The crackling remains a low while a harsh voice begins to speak:

“To seek me, is to perish. To know me, is to know terror. To meet me, is to face Death. Heed my warning.”

The voice was obviously tweaked to sound deeper and raspier to hide the caller’s identity. There were other sounds in the audio’s background that piqued Agatha’s curiosity. A hair-raising screech of metal on metal, some other sort of constant, whooshing sound and a low, staccato-like rumble. 

Puzzled, Agatha asks. “What the fuck was that?”

Rio shrugs. “There’s a lot of bullshit tips coming through, but nothing nearly as creepy as this.”

“You think it’s our guy?” Agatha wonders. 

Rio purses her lips together, thinking while replaying the audio. The voice sends a bit of a chill down Agatha’s spine. “I mean, it could be just some whack job or asshole teens but,” she inhales deeply, sighing. “There’s something about it that’s just-”

“Not right.”

“Yeah,” Rio affirms. She notices for perhaps the first time today, Agatha looks to her without annoyance or irritability painting her features. “Do you want me to send it to your IT guys or mine?” 

Agatha mulls over the offer. Thoroughly pissed off with the department’s booger-pickers, she says, “Yours. It might piss the Chief off, but those idiots took all day just to clean up some simple video footage. I’m pretty sure twelve year olds are learning that on TikTok.” 

Rio laughs, “You know what TikTok is?” 

The sound brings a small smile to Agatha’s lips. Rio had one of those funny, kind of contagious laughs and if you really made her crack up, she’d produce a wild cackle. “Yes, Teen kept trying to get everyone to do some stupid dance from there. I threatened to put him on desk duty for a month if he didn’t shut up.” 

Compassion growing for one of Agatha’s favorite punching bags, Rio chuckles and  lets out a soft, “Oh, why are you so mean to that poor boy?” 

Waving her off, Agatha shakes her head. “I’m mean to everyone, he doesn’t get special treatment.” 

“And why do you call him Teen?” Rio asks. “He’s like twenty-three.”

“He started here with an internship when he was in college,” Agatha answers. She removes the hair tie from the base of her ponytail and shakes a hand through her tangled strands. “He was nineteen when he started and still has the face of a middle schooler. So, Teen.” She fetches a folder from her desk and hands it to Vidal. “Besides, I’m not great with names.”

Rio takes the folder, cracking it open and her dark eyes skim the first page. Agatha sits again, her arm resting along the back of the couch. “You’ve never screwed up my name,” Rio says, her eyes flitting to Agatha’s, awaiting her reaction. 

“It's… more unique, I guess,” Agatha tries. 

Thankfully, Rio leaves it at that but Agatha can’t help but notice the tiny satisfied smirk on her lips as she asks Agatha what she’s supposed to be looking at. 

Agatha begins to explain the things she’s found on their second victim’s timeline leading up to her death. A half hour passes and the detective finishes explaining her latest findings and where she thinks they should look next. “It can’t be a coincidence that both vics visited this building within six months of them getting killed.”

Rio doesn’t look exactly convinced. “Westview doesn’t really have a lot of medical buildings, does it?” 

“No,” Agatha concedes. “That’s not the point. The point is we should see if either of them ever shared health care providers.”

Rio stretches her neck followed by a soft pop. She shifts on the couch, then tugs at the hem of her sweatshirt. As she speaks, the sound is slightly muffled as she removes the article of clothing. “I’m sure most people in this town share providers.” The sweatshirt comes off with a final tug, causing Rio’s hair to get messier and it sticks to the sides of her cheeks. She brushes it aside with her fingers. “And, we’re going to have to get a subpoena for health records. Judges I’ve met usually want more concrete evidence before violating patient confidentiality.” 

She wears a short-sleeved, high necked navy top and lets the sweatshirt fall to the floor. Agatha can’t help but notice the impressive tone of Rio’s arms and the black and gray tattoo on her inner right bicep. “What is that?”

Rio glances down, “it’s a chrysanthemum.” Returning to Agatha’s gaze, she adds gently. “I got it after my mom died, it was her favorite flower.”

“Oh,” Agatha lets out, surprised. “Sorry, I didn’t realize...” She feels incredibly awkward and shifts in her seat. 

Rio reassures her. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.” She smiles a little, her finger tracing the gray petals. “She was a florist.” 

“It’s pretty,” Agatha comments, thumbing through another stack of pages. 

“Careful, Harkness,” Rio teases. “That almost sounded like a compliment.” 

Scoffing and adding an eye roll for good measure, Agatha quips, “Don’t get your hopes up, Vidal.” Rio bites back a knowing grin. Edging on becoming bothered by Rio’s attempts at playfulness, Agatha is abrupt to change the subject. “I spoke to the coroner earlier, he said we can come tomorrow morning to view the body of Jane Doe.” 

Rio’s eyes grow in interest. “Did he confirm the cause of death?”

“Asphyxiation,” Agatha replies. “He didn’t see any evidence of strangulation like on our first victim.” 

Tilting her head, Rio frowns. “He’s changing his MO already?”

Sighing deeply, Agatha nods. “Maybe, but is it intentional or accidental? Maybe he intended to asphyxiate his first vic and strangle the second, or vice versa. Either way, we don’t have enough back yet to figure out if this guy’s organized or just a lunatic.” Agatha stares off toward her desk, lost in thought for a moment. “Oh, Jen got me those arrest records you asked about.” She moves to her desk, shuffling through stacks of files and paperwork before finding the one she was looking for. She hands it to Rio.

“Thanks,” Rio says, flipping the papers like a book. 

For a little while, they fall into a companionable workflow, comparing notes and proposing hypotheses. It’s much later than Agatha intended to stay at work so she isn’t surprised to see Rio yawning as she says, “it’s late.” The detective nods, checking her watch. It’s nearly eleven. “I should probably head out,” Rio says. She closes some folders, straightens some papers. “Are you-“

“Uh,” Agatha replies, “I’ve just got a thing or two to wrap up.”

Rio nods, standing and yawning again. A few files and her tablet under her arm, she stops in the doorway. “You know, I think we’re on to something here.” She hangs on the door. 

Rio seems hopeful. She wears a gentle, genial smile. It makes Agatha’s chest clench and she stumbles for her words until she’s able to say, “yeah, yeah, I think so too.” She flashes Rio an awkward smile in return.

“Good night, Agatha,” Rio wiggles her fingers at the detective as she leaves the office. 

Alone now, Agatha fiddles around with her laptop and the remaining files for another twenty minutes. Though Rio is gone, her earthy scent lingers as if she’s still there. Agatha tries to ignore it but it’s so persistent, just like Rio, she wonders if the agent is still around until she realizes where the faint scent is coming from. 

Rio’s discarded FBI sweatshirt lays on the ground, half under the couch. She retrieves it and sets it next to her. She responds to a few emails, the sweatshirt in her peripheral vision. She grabs it in her fist, then holds it out in front of her. It’s worn, the cuffs and collar loose. 

Unable to resist, she brings it close. She rubs the soft cotton under her fingers. She wonders how long Rio’s had it. Her imagination drifts to Rio at home, comfortable and curled up on the couch with a glass of wine. She brings the sweatshirt to her chest, her mind drifting to what it would be like if she accompanied Rio on that couch. The two of them snuggled together, watching television and sharing popcorn. 

Before Agatha could really stop herself, she was shrugging on Rio’s sweatshirt. Once pulled down to her waist, she rubs her arms, feeling enveloped by Rio and her earthy warmth. It sends a pang to her belly and she avoids the ache by delving into her unanswered emails.

The next morning, Agatha steps into her office to review the evidence board. The coffee is strong, its bitterness washed away with creamer. The heat warms Agatha from the inside. 

A voice interrupts her thought, “Morning”. Rio saunters in her office, her own steaming mug in hand. “Anything else?” She’s in her typical uniform of slacks and dress shirt. 

“Hey… there’s a few follow ups, but I’m not banking on anything yet,” Agatha replies. 

“Hmm,” Rio hummed, tongue prodding the inside of her cheek. She walks around Agatha’s desk. “I don’t remember leaving this here.” She picks up her sweatshirt from its draped position on the back of the chair where Agatha had carelessly left it the night before. She holds it up toward Agatha, smirking. “Did this keep you cozy last night?” 

Agatha scoffs. “No, it was cluttering up my floor space,” she fibs. 

Rio only hums in response, tossing the sweatshirt over her shoulder. She turns to leave, but stops short to add, “it kinda smells like you.” 

Chapter Text

Over the next few days, Agatha and the team reviewed several new pieces of information and conducted half dozen interviews in town. She and Rio had viewed the body of the second victim, originally listed as a Jane Doe. However, dental records came in and they were able to identify the woman in question. They contacted the woman’s next of kin and delivered the sad news. 

Despite some of the puzzle pieces falling into place, Agatha was still discontented. If her brain wasn’t busy trying to find the next lead, she was busy trying to steer her thoughts away from Rio. 

She had felt like such a fool for the sweatshirt incident and mentally prepared for Rio to weaponize it against her. She didn't though and for that, Agatha was grateful. She knew Rio enjoyed teasing her, and still did, albeit in a more friendly than flirtatious manner. The less Rio flirted with her, the more confused Agatha felt. 

In Agatha’s mind, the wavering between interested and aloof made her question Rio’s intentions. Sure, she knew Rio was at least attracted to her. Rio had made that much clear. But, Agatha couldn’t wrap her brain around what Rio’s aim was - was she interested in just sex or something more? Because that’s where it got complicated for Agatha. 

She knew she couldn’t just have sex with Rio without wanting more. And that’s what really scared Agatha. She wasn’t sure she could handle more. Because more came with the possibility of heartbreak. And having experienced the worst kind of heartbreak with her son’s passing, Agatha wasn’t looking to get hurt again. The last time someone was Agatha’s everything, the world cruelly snatched him away and left Agatha empty. 

Tonight, this unwelcome and unyielding thought lay at the forefront of Agatha’s mind. She’d been home for only a couple hours or so, had showered, changed, and did some chores. When household duties ceased being a good distraction, Agatha said screw it and opened her work computer. Her job was always a sure-fire method for compartmentalizing

unwanted trails of thought. The beer she cracked open helped too. 

Agatha is twenty minutes into reading officers’ reports when a thud on her front door gives her a jolt. Perplexed, she opens the door and finds none other than Rio fucking Vidal on her doorstep. 

“Hey,” Rio greets. She smiles and holds her hands behind her back. Agatha opens her mouth to respond but Rio cuts in. “My friend in forensics called me.” She shifts her torso and pulls a pizza box from behind her back. Agatha knits her brow. “I debated waiting to tell you until tomorrow, but I was hungry and thought maybe you hadn’t eaten yet-“

“What kind is it?” Agatha asks, arching one brow. 

Rio grins. “Pepperoni and hot honey.” 

Pursing her lips, Agatha nods. She was hungry. “All right… you can come in.” She turns, letting Rio bypass her. Rio nudges her shoes off and heads to the kitchen. She’s never been in Agatha’s kitchen, but walks away as if she has. Agatha follows, telling Rio she has tea and fizzy waters or beer, if Rio wants. 

Rio puts the pizza on the counter, asks for plates and pulls apart a few slices. Agatha fetches them both a beer and some napkins. She invites Rio into the living room where Agatha had been reading up on a few things just a moment before. 

Several slices of pizza later, the sleuths have their work out on the coffee table. They’ve been analyzing new information and trying to connect it to the current evidence. Rio starts in the arm chair, but moves to the couch when Agatha complains about not being able to navigate Rio’s iPad. Rio only laughs, plops next to Agatha and tells her, “You’re gonna have to catch up with the tech.” 

“Not tonight, I’m not,” Agatha gripes. 

However, the proximity presents Agatha with a new set of challenges. She tries to ignore how close Rio is, how their knees touch every time Rio leans over to grab another file or photograph. She tries not to watch Rio’s full lips press onto the bottle as she takes a swig of beer. She tries to focus on reports when Rio removes her hair clip, her thick, dark hair cascades over her shoulders, releasing a woody scent Agatha could bathe in. When Rio gets up to grab them another beer, Agatha really tries not to stare at that perfect ass as it saunters into her kitchen, the agent fetching from the fridge as if she’s done it a hundred times before. 

That’s something that got under Agatha’s skin, how comfortable Rio was. Everywhere, all the time. Rio Vidal just acted as if she belonged - in her station, in her office, in her home. In Agatha’s space. 

Rio returns to the couch, cracking the beer caps with an effortless twist before handing one to Agatha. She clinks the necks together, grinning briefly, “Salud.”

“Thanks, cheers,” Agatha says, clearing her throat a little. Her mouth had gone dry with the effort it took not to ogle her counterpart. What business did Rio Vidal have in making a white button down and slacks look that good? Maybe Agatha should cool it on the beers, considering alcohol is what nearly got her in an unprofessional pickle the last time Vidal was in town. 

A half hour later, Rio’s verbally reviewing the latest forensic reports and though Agatha is sort of listening, her mind wanders. She thinks of their last encounter in this house, of accidentally entering Nicky’s bedroom, of what might have happened if Rio had opened the door on the left instead. It wasn’t like Agatha hadn’t mulled this over before, she most certainly had. Begrudgingly yet earnestly.

“Agatha?” Rio says. 

Her name would have been enough to snap the detective out of her reverie, but it’s the familiar hand on her leg that sends a zap to Agatha’s brain. “Huh?” She blinks, and glances to the hand on her leg, then back to Rio’s intent stare. “Sorry, zoned out there for a sec.”

Rio lets out a light chuckle, “You still think forensics is boring then?” 

Giving into a smirk, Agatha shrugs. “You know I’m more of a ‘in-the-field’ kind of gal.” She has to summon everything within her not to fixate on the lingering hand of the agent next to her. When did Rio get closer? Agatha feels the heat of Rio’s body, her earthy scent encompasses Agatha’s breathing air. It’s nearly overwhelming, and Agatha shifts forward, to reach for a copy of the forensic reports and Rio removes her hand, her curious eyes still on Agatha. The detective asks, putting every ounce of effort into not appearing thrown off by the younger woman, “you were saying something about the dirt?” 

Rio leans in, her finger pointing at the pages in Agatha’s hands. The detective is acutely aware of just how close Rio’s face is, the foot gap between them nearly half that now as Rio begins to restate the findings. “It’s not just dirt, it’s sand and because of the coral deposit and microglass, it has to be from somewhere in Long Island.” 

Agatha peers up from the documents, catching Rio’s focused eyes. Rio’s intense gaze flits from Agatha’s own blues to the detective’s lips, and Rio lets out a soft exhale, her lips parting slightly. “And, uh, Billy said there’s a glass recycle plant north of the city center.”

As much as she’d love to blame the two beers, Agatha knows it isn’t alcohol this time fueling the magnetism between them. It’s just there. It lies slumbering until it blooms suddenly, its vines creep into Agatha’s blood, warm and rich. 

She is frozen, fighting between the urge to crush their lips together and the alarm bell in her head telling her to get up. That’s all it would take, Agatha standing, making whatever excuse to move around in an effort to save both of them from certain embarrassment. But, god, she can’t, and instead when Rio inches closer, Agatha finds herself moving centimeters - reluctant to give in, but powerless to stop. In a shaky voice, her eyes looking between those full lips and glittering eyes, Agatha says, “maybe to-tomorrow, we’ll drag Teen up there-”

“Do we need him?” Rio asks, her lips parting into a teasing smirk. She is unabashedly giving Agatha a once over. “Could… just be us, like old times?” 

Agatha feels Rio’s hand return to her leg, the sensation sending a ripple up the detective’s spine. “Old times?” Agatha asks, the alarm bell’s ringing is softening as is her resolve. The backs of Agatha’s fingertips brush the side of Rio’s leg, almost flush with her own. She swallows hard, her mouth nearly watering at the intensity, the seductive gaze of the woman next to her. 

She always felt a little baffled by Rio’s attraction to her. Sure, Agatha felt she was a fairly good-looking gal when she put some effort into it, but self-care kind of went out the window years ago. She wore jeans and flannels like it was her uniform, and wore her unbrushed hair in a sloppy ponytail. It wasn’t exactly screaming ‘hot’, not to mention, she was twelve years Rio’s senior. But, the way Rio looked at her? It was like she wanted to devour her. 

Rio must sense Agatha’s crumbling resolve, she moves closer, their faces just a few inches apart. Agatha feels Rio’s hands on her arm, on her leg, rising imperceptibly as she moves in closer. Agatha is putty in Rio’s hands and she obeys the agent’s guiding movements, resting her own hands on Rio's ribcage and shoulder. Then, Rio’s hands are on either side of Agatha’s jaw, looking from her lips to her eyes, then back again. It only takes the smallest of nods from Agatha before Rio’s lips crush against her own. Every ounce of self-preservation flies out the window and Agatha is powerless against her own will, her drive to get Rio closer, now. 

She pulls on Rio’s hips and thighs until Rio is on Agatha, straddling her lap and digging her fingertips into Agatha’s skull as she kisses Agatha deeply, passionately. The detective grips firmly on Rio’s waist, wanting to feel all of Rio’s weight on her lap. Rio gives in, sitting fully on Agatha as she presses her tongue into Agatha’s mouth, tasting the older woman with reverence. 

Agatha can’t deny the chemistry between them, it makes her core alight with fire. Rio smirks as she kisses Agatha, their teeth clicking together momentarily. Agatha grabs the nape of Rio’s neck, deepens their kiss once more, their mouths opening, tongues caressing, lips sucking. 

Agatha tries to swallow a moan when Rio moves on to her neck. She peppers the tender skin there with open-mouthed kisses, then presses her tongue against Agatha’s pulse. Rio grinds her hips into Agatha’s lap and releases a small noise of satisfaction. “Fuck, Agatha,” Rio says, rasping in Agatha’s ear. “I’ve thought about this so much.”

She captures Agatha’s lips in another searing kiss, expressing with her mouth just how much she’d thought about her. A heat pools in Agatha’s lower belly. The notion Agatha isn’t just an aborted one night stand, but she’s someone to be thought about, often, turns her on in a way she hasn’t felt in a long time. She separates them, holding Rio’s face in her hands. They are both out of breath, graying blue eyes fixing upon deep brown. Agatha rubs a thumb over Rio’s kiss-sore bottom lip, the agent arches further into Agatha’s lap. 

Rio reaches down and starts to unbutton her shirt. Agatha’s hands drop to Rio’s thighs, glancing between Rio’s face and her hands as they work to undo the buttons with a teasingly slow but steady pace. 

Rio smirks at how captivated Agatha is, blue eyes tracing the curves of her chest. She hadn’t envisioned this sort of thing occuring this evening, and in fact, was kind of surprised Agatha even let her inside the house. But, what she said was true. Rio had spent many late nights wondering how their night would have turned out years ago had Rio not accidentally, but regrettably, misled them into Agatha’s son’s bedroom. 

But now, she has Agatha’s full attention. She isn’t running, she’s not hiding. No, she’s here with Rio. Present. Welcoming. Encouraging Rio to continue, with wanting gazes and wandering hands. Rio tugs the ends of her shirt from her slacks, letting it hang loose on her frame. She lets her hands slink around Agatha’s neck. The detective slides her hands inside Rio’s open shirt, over her ribcage, then up her arms to finally tug the shirt off her shoulders. Shirt discarded, Agatha reaches to cup Rio’s jawline and draws her in again.

Their lips meet, Agatha tugs on Rio’s bottom lip with her teeth just enough to elicit a soft groan from the agent. Agatha moves from Rio’s mouth to her neck, inhaling her intoxicating scent as she peppers her neck and chest with open-mouthed kisses. Rio grinds into her as Agatha reaches around to squeeze Rio’s perfect ass. When she does, Rio lets out a throaty laugh, capturing Agatha’s face in her palms and bringing their lips together again. They barely part when Rio speaks, her voice breathy, eyes burning with desire as she gazes into Agatha’s - “take me to bed”.

Agatha isn’t surprised by Rio’s boldness, the agent has always possessed an air of confidence that usually annoyed Agatha. But, nearly panting from the intensity of their making out, the way Rio moves against Agatha, fuck, the way she tastes, Agatha wants more. So much more. 

She nods, her mouth opening to answer verbally, ardently, when their phones go off with a loud, godforsaken PING on the coffee table. 

They freeze for just a moment before Rio comes to, smoothly swinging her leg from Agatha’s right side. She reaches for her phone, passing Agatha’s hers. It’s the Chief. 

CHIEF: BODY FOUND NEAR EXIT 45, PICK UP VIDAL & MEET ME THERE 

Agatha’s gut sinks. Another body? What the hell was happening in Westview?

She looks up, meeting a worried expression on Rio’s face. Then, like a snapping rubber band, reality reinforces itself: Rio Vidal is shirtless on her couch and minutes away from being naked in Agatha’s bed. 

You idiot, Agatha thinks. She straightens, her shoulders tensing. She responds to the Chief’s message:

HARKNESS: BE THERE ASAP

Agatha sighs, forcing herself to meet Rio’s eyes. “We should head out.” It’s curt but she doesn’t mean to make it sting. 

They’re still close. Close enough Agatha can still smell Rio’s earthy scent. Or, maybe it’s rubbed off on her. Agatha goes to move, a hand around her upper arm halts her. “Hey,” Rio starts, gentle yet cautious. 

“This-“ Agatha gestures between them, “we can’t- we can’t be doing this. Get dressed-“

“Hey!” Rio says more forcefully, pulling Agatha back into her seat. “No, you don’t get to do that-“

“Do what?” Agatha argues. 

Rio sneers, “Act like this didn’t just happen, like there’s nothing between us-“

“There isn’t anything between us!” The detective stands, not giving Rio a second chance to draw her in again. She snatches Rio’s shirt from the floor and tosses it on her lap. 

Rio stands now too, the shirt falling to the floor. “That’s bullshit, Agatha.” She points at the detective, a different kind of fire in her eyes now. She moves closer, “you’re gonna stand there and pretend like we weren’t gonna have sex?”

Agatha scoffs, “You’re awfully presumptive.” She turns but Vidal’s hands are on her faster than she can comprehend, holding Agatha with an alarmingly alluring force. Rio presses them together, their teeth collide in an audible click just after their lips meet in a final act of desperation. 

Agatha shoves Rio away harder than intended, the younger woman’s knees buckle from hitting the edge of the couch. Reactively, Rio grabs Agatha, pulling the stubborn detective down on top of her. It’s Agatha who now straddles Rio, though in an awkward, backache-inducing manner — her feet splay too far apart in an effort to stop the tumble. Rio’s shoulder blade traps Agatha’s arm between it and the couch. 

“God damn it, Vidal,” Agatha complains, yanking at her trapped arm and planting the other on Rio’s opposite shoulder for leverage. Of course, Rio isn’t helping her free and instead clamps two very strong thighs around Agatha’s in a vice-like grip. 

Rio stares up at Agatha, holding the detective captive with one hand incidentally on the neck and the other beneath the breast. If Rio is aware of how aggressive this appears, she certainly doesn’t show it. And if Agatha feels anything close to kind-of-turned on, hell would sooner freeze over than she would admit to it. Her brow is furrowed in anger, but her voice cracks in anguish, “Why are you pretending you don’t want me?” 

The question is direct in a way which catches Agatha off guard, her breath caught in her throat. 

And Agatha Harkness does not like being caught off guard. 

“I don’t fucking want you, Vidal, you’re just convenient.” It comes out of Agatha without her fully processing how mean it is. There is vitriol in Agatha’s voice she typically only reserves for the nastiest of perps. It tastes like bile when the lie leaves her lips. 

Rio’s jaw tenses and her brow furrows. Her fingertips dig into Agatha’s skin as she spits out, equally as vicious, “you’re a fucking asshole.” She shoves Agatha with a heave that pushes Agatha away and almost over. Rio stands, snatching her shirt from the floor and putting it on. Fingers moving deftly to cover herself, Rio turns her back on Agatha, the agent’s lip in a snarl, as she quips, “I’ll be outside.” She seizes her jacket and holster, maneuvering to put them both on as she heads for the door without uttering another word. 

Agatha Harkness stands alone in her living room, a mixture of anger and spite. She finds her hands on her chest, a measure of self comfort, but also finds the skin there still tacky from Rio’s open mouthed kisses. 

She is a fucking asshole. And she feels like it. 

The drive to exit 45 was only twelve minutes from Agatha’s house, but it’s the longest twelve minutes of her life. When Agatha hopped in her cruiser, she immediately turned on the radio to a low but respective volume and unnecessarily radioes one of the scene officers to announce when they’re five minutes out. Anything to break the weighted silence. 

Pulling up to the half dozen cop cars that dot the end of the exit ramp, the breaks screech with a hair-raising yelp. 

Before Rio can rush out, Agatha speaks, stern and steady. “Let’s just solve this thing and then we can go our separate ways.” 

The agent tilts her head, eyes narrowing in disbelief at Agatha’s audacity. “You can pretend whatever you want, Agatha, but, te veo y no finjo.” She doesn’t waste any more time, exits and waves to the Chief as he directs her over. 

Agatha doesn’t know what the second part means, but she recalls Rio speaking the phrase to her the last time Agatha had tried to rid Rio from her bed and her life. 

I see you. 

Chapter Text

It ended up being a later night than Agatha thought it’d be. They were at the crime scene until almost 2 am. During their investigation, Rio was cold with Agatha. Not that Agatha didn’t understand why. She knew she deserved it. 

She kicked herself for indulging in her attraction to Rio. What the hell had she been thinking? What could have possibly come from them sleeping together? Agatha felt so certain she wasn’t at a point in her life where a relationship felt possible. She wasn’t sure she would ever really get to a place where a relationship felt right. 

And yet… Late at night, when she tossed and turned in feeble attempts to get to sleep, thoughts of Rio had been nearly impossible to avoid. Not just thoughts of Rio naked, writhing in her bed, whispering Agatha’s name like a prayer while Agatha worshipped her body. She also thought of Rio sitting on the counter, teasing Agatha while the detective cooked them dinner. She imagined lying on the couch with Rio, watching some old cop movie and running her hands through Rio’s dark hair. She wondered what it would be like, to have Rio to wake up each morning, and say good night to every evening. 

Though these daydreams were sometimes cut short when memories of Nicky would wander in and rekindle the embers of grief residing in her heart. Often, when that happened, Agatha would be left crying until she fell asleep. In the morning, she’d wake up needing to press cold spoons to her eyes. 

It didn’t quite make sense to Agatha, this dissonant connection between Nicky and Rio. There had been a few moments where, at the right angle, with a certain light, Nicky’s toothy grin bloomed in place of Rio’s wide smile. It made her miss her son even more. 

Agatha once heard grief softens with the passing of time, but she hadn’t found that to be true. She missed Nicky today as much as she had years ago as much as she did the moment she realized his small body was no longer breathing. The grief had tortured Agatha, haunted her and hollowed her out until she was empty. 

What use did Rio have for an empty shell of a woman? 

However, instead of posing this question to Rio, Agatha kept it inside herself where all of her other poisonous thoughts lived. 

When Agatha finally arrives at the station, her head swims with fatigue. She’s not ready to see Rio again, not ready to deal with the sharpness of her anger. She inhales a big breath as she opens the doors to the station, letting it out steady and slow as she makes a beeline for her office. 

She exchanges morning pleasantries when she passes Jen and Alice, the twosome yapping over steaming cups of coffee. She hears Lilia but doesn’t see her and figures Billy is around somewhere. The person she’s most acutely aware of is Rio. 

Rio is at her designated corner desk and it’s all Agatha dares to gauge because if she tempts to look, she knows she will meet Rio’s cold stare. It’s too early and she’s too sleep deprived to be faced with that particular brand of guilt. 

It’s been a little over an hour when Agatha’s office door creaks open and Rio slips in, closing the door behind her. There isn’t anywhere else to look except Rio’s stony expression. “I want to check out the glass plant.” Agatha is silent. “On Long Island?” 

“Yeah, I-“

“I already talked to the plant director,” Rio says flatly. “She’s expecting us this afternoon.”

Agatha stops, cocking her head. “We can’t, we just found-“

“It’s an hour’s drive, we’ll can be back before dark, but not if we don’t head out-“ 

“Absolutely not,” Agatha stands, her hands planted palms down on her desk. 

Rio’s brow furrows, her eyes narrow. “Why are you being so damn stubborn about this lead? I told you, there has to be something to this,” Rio argues. 

Agatha moves in front of her desk, her index and middle fingers toy with the shirt fabric near her collar. “And I’m telling you, it can wait. The Chief-“

“I’ve already cleared it with the Chief,” Rio challenges, crossing her arms. 

Agatha drops her voice, “Is this because of last night?” She gestures with her finger between them. 

Rio’s face contorts, sneering and offended. “It’s because I’m doing my job. I’m consulted on this case, whether you like it or not. Beyond whatever the fuck last night was, I know you have some sort of weird hang up about having ‘the Feds’ involved,” Rio seethes. She steps into Agatha’s space, pinning the detective between herself and the desk. Agatha arches back, gripping the edge of the desk. 

“And I know it’s annoying the fuck out of you that I’m here,” Rio continues. She’s not shy about staring Agatha in the eye, the intensity in her expression makes Agatha’s heart beat faster. 

She’s determined not to be bested. “You can say that again,” Agatha says, trying to sound bigger than she feels. 

Unphased by the pathetic insult, Rio’s lip curls into a wicked grin. Agatha is surprised Rio inches closer, enough their thighs brush against each other. “And I know,” she says, her voice low, predatory almost, “it drives you fucking crazy to pretend like you don’t want me to fuck your brains out.”

Agatha’s breath comes out as a shaky exhale. She fucking hates how right Rio Vidal was. She resents Rio’s boldness, her ability to still see through the shields Agatha casts around her heart and mind. “Fuck you,” is all Agatha can muster. It’s quiet, stern and forced through clenched teeth. 

Of course, Rio senses the crack in Agatha’s resolve. She’s crawling hand over fist to get under Agatha’s skin, to make a fucking point and sure, maybe to hurt Agatha just a little. Rio gambles to get nearer, their faces too close for Agatha’s comfort, she knows. But, she does it anyway because at this point, being the thorn in Agatha’s side is better than being nothing to her. 

Agatha feels the softness of Rio’s chest and her breath when she says, “Fuck me?” She laughs, it’s meant to be mocking and mean. It’s something Agatha hasn’t heard before and she squirms. Rio's rasping whisper is only loud enough for Agatha to hear. “Harkness, if I fell to my knees, and took you into my mouth, right here, I’d have you begging me for more.” 

Rio punctuates her thoughts by licking a long stripe from Agatha’s pulse point to just below her ear, then sucks the skin there. Agatha tries to swallow the soft, aching moan threatening to escape her lips. She feels Rio’s arms slip behind her and her breath hitches in surprise. Agatha’s brain cells must all be firing at once, leaving her delirious and stunned. She wants to kill Rio (and fine, fuck her) for how fucking right she is. But, she can’t process this quest for revenge because Rio’s warmth suddenly vanishes and she stands a foot away. She has one of her cocky smirks, the kind that makes Agatha want to kiss her and slap it off her face. She holds up Agatha’s cruiser keys, jingling and waves them in the air like a victory prize. 

“If you’re not going to follow up on this lead, then I’m going to and I’m taking your car,” Rio says, matter-of-factly, like her mouth wasn’t just on Agatha’s neck. Before Agatha can argue and snatch her keys back, Rio is out the door and crossing the bullpen. 

Agatha doesn’t waste any more time and storms after the woman, calling her by her last name. She knows her colleagues are watching them, but she’s too pissed off now to care. 

Four pairs of eyes follow them out until they disappear down the hall, their grumbling fading against the background noise of the bustling station. 

“I figured that wasn’t going to go well,” Billy sighs. He spins his chair toward the exit, eyes following his mentor’s trail. 

Alice grimaces, “Kind of a dick move to go over Agatha’s head like that, right?”

Nodding, Jen agrees. “Yeah, but the DA’s been blowing up the Chief’s phone after they found that woman last night. The whole town’s on edge.”

A moment later Agatha comes back through the bullpen, steaming mad and gritting her jaw. “Teen!” She yells. He flinches. “You’re coming with us, get in the cruiser and if you see Vidal behind the wheel, remove her or you’ll both regret it!” She barks out her orders, “we’re leaving in five!” She adds, slamming her office door shut behind her. 

”Do you think they’re going to fight the entire way to Long Island?” Billy grimaces, dreading the awkwardness and Agatha’s temper. 

“Probably,” Alice guesses, patting Billy’s shoulder in sympathy. “Maybe bring your headphones.”

“I wish they would just bone already and spare us,” Jen gripes, flipping through the latest Home and Garden, unbothered by Agatha’s outburst. Billy’s eyes grow like tea saucers. 

Lilia nudges Jen’s arm with her elbow, “she’ll kill you if she hears you gossiping.” She wanders back to her desk, lips pursed in disapproval. 

Jen and Alice laugh, like two friends with a secret. “Come on, Lilia,” Jen says, stirring her coffee. Lilia doesn’t budge, her brow arches over her cat-eye readers, judging.  

“I’m sorry,” Billy interrupts. “Is that what this is?” He gestures to Agatha’s office, where she and Rio’s spat began before they finished it in the parking lot. “I thought they hated each other?”

“Oh, you really don’t understand queer women, do ya, sport?” Jen teases, dog-earring a page from her magazine. 

Billy’s face crunches, mildly insulted. Alice nods, sticking her thumb toward the young man. “No, no, I agree. Opposites attract, but them? Come on, Jen.” She chuckles, waving off her friend. 

Jen puts her magazine down and points at Billy and Alice. “Alice, remember that night at the Hideout?” 

“Which one? Possibly not, if we-“

“Yes, you do,” Jen insists with a whisper, eyeballing Agatha’s office. Teen throws his shoulder bag on — stuck between wanting to know more but also not wanting to be caught in Agatha’s crosshairs if he wasn’t in the cruiser before she opens the door again. “Agatha left to have a ‘case closed’ smoke and I never saw her again that night. You know who else I didn’t see leave that night?”

Alice and Billy exchange curious expressions. “You’re toeing a dangerous line, Kale,” Lilia warns, loudly clicking the mouse of her computer. 

Billy doesn’t stay to hear more. He doesn’t need to. It’s hard to believe, but pretty clear Jen thought Agatha and Rio had some sort of thing that night. The others bid him good luck and he scurries out of the station, hoping he won’t have to ask Rio to get out of the driver’s seat. 

Fortunately, she’s not in the car at all. She stands with her arms crossed, leaning against the cruiser. She’s wearing a pair of dark aviators and her mouth is in a tight line. He gives her an awkward wave. She barely lifts her head in acknowledgment. 

A moment later when Agatha’s stern voice breaks through the rumblings of the parking lot. “Teen’s in shotgun, he gets car sick,” Agatha barks. She clicks the keys and the doors unlocked. 

Agatha peers over the edge of her sunglasses, glaring death rays at the young man. 

Billy turns to Rio, “Yeah, I get super pukey,” he continues his mentor’s lie. 

“I don’t really care,” Rio says, “I’m just trying to get there sometime this century.” She flashes a sneering smile toward Agatha over the top of the cruiser. “Think you can manage that, Harkness?” 

“I’ve been driving longer than you’ve been a cop,” Agatha spits back. “I think I got it.” She slides into the driver's seat, sticking the keys into the ignition. “Vamos!” 

Rio rolls her eyes at Agatha’s Spanish before moving to sit behind Teen. The youngest officer slinks into the passenger seat. Billy takes a deep breath, certain not even a chainsaw could cut through the tension filling the cruiser. He lets his breath out slow and quiet, grateful when Agatha clicks the radio on to the local alternative rock station. 

It was going to be a long day.  

Gravel crunches under the cruiser’s tires as they pull into the glass plant about an hour later. Billy inhaled deeply the moment he stepped out of the cruiser. He’s thankful for the fresh air after spending the last hour suffocating beneath Agatha and Rio’s silent but very apparent battle. If it was anyone else, they wouldn’t have stood a chance against Agatha Harkness. Billy would always bet in her favor. Except… He had been witness to Rio getting under Agatha’s skin unlike anyone else ever had. He chalked it up to annoyance and Agatha’s general dislike for federal involvement in her investigations. But, Jen’s comments marinated in his mind. There was something between them, but perhaps, it wasn’t hatred after all. 

As the trio exit the vehicle, a woman is walking toward them. Her dark blonde hair is in a loose braid down her back, and she squints in the afternoon sun as she waves at them. “Agent Vidal?” There’s a soft twang in her voice Billy doesn’t expect to hear in a place like Long Island. 

Rio raises her hand, stepping forward to shake hands with the woman. “That’s me,” Rio greets warmly. “Thank you, Ms. Pierce. These are my colleagues.” Rio turns, gesturing to Agatha and Billy. “Detective Harkness and Officer Kaplan.” 

Agatha grunts a hello and Billy gives a tight smile. He’s surprised by the woman’s firm grip, hands calloused and muscled. “Merritt Pierce, operations director, but please, just Merritt will do,” the woman flashes a crooked grin, tucking her thumbs in her back pockets. “You mentioned an investigation on the phone. How can I be of service to you, Agent Vidal?” She draws out Rio’s last name, emphasizing the Vee with her accent. 

Billy glances between the woman and Rio. Clearly, the woman - Merritt - has already decided Rio is the person to direct her attention to. Again, Billy is confused. He’s not used to Harkness taking the back seat in any situation, let alone in a situation such as this. Then again, she didn’t really sign off on Rio’s lead. 

Rio smiles. “I’d appreciate a tour of the facility, if it’s not too much trouble.” 

Merritt looks to the three of them, almost sizing them up, Billy observes, before gesturing behind her. “It’d be my pleasure, Agent Vidal, right this way.” 

Billy doesn’t catch how Agatha’s hands ball into fists at the way this woman’s eyes track down Rio’s backside as the agent walks ahead. 

Several minutes later, they stand in a vast warehouse filled with heavy machinery and conveyor belts. The air is hot, at least above ninety degrees Billy thinks. He wipes his brow, pushing up the brim of the hardhat Merritt had handed him prior to entering the building. She speaks loudly, her voice carrying effortlessly over the clanging sounds of the machinery and shouts of the working men and women. 

“This is our hot shop,” Merritt tells them. She explains the processes at work, pointing to different areas of the warehouse. Molten liquid is poured from ginormous metal vats, the air thick with the scent of burning toast and sweat. “It’s the hardest station to work, so we rotate the crews out quarterly and have a hard stop at eight hours a day.” 

“It’s pretty noisy in here,” Rio sticks her thumb out to the crews. She turns to Agatha, “Do you hear that sound?” 

Billy can barely discern one clamor from the next but he finds Agatha’s eyes searching, narrowing down on whatever Rio was picking up. Agatha points to a vat in the corner of the warehouse — its hinges screech when the worker pours its contents into a mold. Rio fishes a tape recorder from inside her jacket pocket. “Merritt,” Rio raises her voice. Merritt leans in, the corner of her mouth twitching up. “Would you mind getting me closer to record some sound?” 

Merritt nodded, shrugging off her denim shirt, a dingy white one underneath. “Sure thing, Agent. I’d recommend leaving your jacket behind, it’s about fifteen degrees hotter down there.” Billy knows he isn’t the only one noticing the impressive strength of Merritt’s arms. Agatha catches Rio’s stolen glances as she shrugs off her own jacket. She gives it to Agatha, pressing it into her chest with a small shove. Billy definitely doesn’t notice when Rio locks eyes with Agatha. Or, the millisecond Rio’s gaze flickers from Agatha’s hard, blue eyes to her mouth, lips pursed in mild discontent. Rio wants to punish Agatha as much as she wants to kiss her. 

Rio starts down the stairs, rolling the sleeves of her shirt up. Agatha watches them, moving to the railing and places her hands on the bars there. She feels Billy step next to her. “Are you okay?” It’s loud because he has to be to be, but not loud enough for anyone to hear. 

“Yep,” Agatha answers. 

“Do you think there’s something here?” He changes tactics. The case was always a safe subject. 

Across the room, he watches as Merritt leads Rio through the bustling chaos. Merritt has her hands on Rio’s forearm as she guides her along, the two of them smiling genially and leaning in to hear one another. 

The moment that woman puts her hands on Rio’s body, Agatha wants to erupt. She feels a white hot lick of anger travel from the base of her spine to her throat and back down again. It was fucking bizarre. She grips the railing tighter, unused to feeling whatever the fuck this was. 

“For Vidal’s sake, there better be something here,” Agatha spits, unable to tear her attention away from watching Rio. It wasn’t very long before the two women rejoined Agatha and Billy on the viewing balcony. Both are visibly sweating and Billy’s grateful he didn’t have to get closer because his curls do not respond well to that level of perspiration. 

Agatha doesn’t waste a best to shove Rio’s jacket back at her. Rio meets her glare, holding it as she puts it on. Beads of sweat roll down her temple and her throat, she swallows thickly. She doesn’t miss Agatha’s eyes on her and the droplet that disappears down the front of her shirt. If it was just the two of them, Rio would haven’t let Agatha’s lingering go unremarked but she refrains. 

They spend the rest of the tour collecting various soil samples and interviewing the director about the plant’s employees. Merritt is able to give them a list of employees with Jersey residences and Billy tucks the list of seven employees in his bag. He has a hard time discerning if Rio is charmed by Merritt, or if she is doing the charming. He supposes it’s what makes Rio a good federal agent. He also would venture to guess the bantering is getting on Agatha’s nerves. She utters a stiff goodbye and even stiffer handshake to Merritt when the director finishes their tour where it started. Billy thanks the director and follows Agatha to the car, only glancing over his shoulder when Merritt calls out to Rio. “Agent Vidal, one last thing.”

Billy reaches the cruiser when Agatha does. The detective puts her sunglasses on, her jaw set and she hangs in the doorway watching Rio in the distance. They speak, changing coy smiles as Merritt presses a card into Rio’s palm. Their hands press together too long for two folks who just met and Billy sinks into the front seat. Agatha honks the horn, “Traffic, Vidal, let’s get a move on,” she barks out. 

Rio tosses a wave over her shoulder as she siddles back to the cruiser and into the back seat. Agatha peels out of the plant sooner than Billy can latch his seatbelt and the highway greets them a few minutes later. 

Desperate to crack through the awkward silence, Billy turns to Rio. “So, what do you think?” 

Rio stares ahead, eyes flitting to Billy for a moment before answering. “There’s a disgruntled former employee she gave me the name of-“

“Were you planning on keeping that to yourself or sharing with the group, Agent Vidal?” Agatha remarks. She emphasizes Vee-dal the way Merritt had and it earns her a scathing glare from Rio. 

“Oh, you feel like speaking now?” She says, incredulous. “Because back there, you didn’t say a god damn-“

Agatha adjusts the rearview mirror, aiming it toward Rio. “As if either of us could get a word in edgewise!” 

POW! 

Agatha jerks the wheel left and right, Billy’s head smacks against the back of the seat and his eyes clenching shut as the cruiser fishtails on the highway. He’s been in a car once before when his Mom’s tire blew out but Agatha’s cruiser is bigger than his mom’s Volvo. He hears a series of expletives from the backseat in what he recognizes as Spanish as Agatha regains control of the vehicle. She smacks her hand on the siren button and veers the cruiser toward the side of the road. Grunting as she guides the cruiser to a slow rut, Agatha smacks the dashboard. “Fuck!” 

Snatching the radio from the console, Agatha patches through to dispatch. Billy turns to see Rio, hair a little disheveled and panting. “Are you okay?” 

She nods, sighing deeply. “Yeah, you?” He shakes his head yes and they listen as Agatha informs dispatch of their situation. 

Agatha exits and slams her door shut. Billy and Rio’s attentions follow her to the back tire and both wince when Agatha blows a gasket. She kicks the car and storms back into the driver’s seat. 

“No, I don’t have a fucking spare,” Agatha argues with a graveled voice on the other side. “And it doesn’t fucking matter because the axel’s fucked. Send a tow truck and tell Gulliver to get her ass to exit eighty-four, southbound. We’re sixteen minutes north of the border.” 

She slams the radio into its dock and gets out of the cruiser again. Rio and Billy follow suit. Sure enough, Agatha’s back left tire is in shreds, the rim on the asphalt and bent crooked. “No spare, huh?” Rio comments. 

Agatha whips around, pointing with her finger. “Don’t fucking start with me. This is your fault-“

Rio glares, an incredulous laugh escapes her lips. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, no,” Billy utters.

“It’s your fucking fault we’re in the middle of bum fuck nowhere New York. If we’d stayed in Westview, like we were supposed to, my tire probably would have blown at the station-“ 

“You can’t possibly be pinning this on me,” Rio asks, aghast. “Your piece of shit cruiser breaks down and it’s my fucking fault, Agatha?” She opens her mouth to say more, Agatha tenses, ready to pounce but Rio’s cell rings. She yanks it from her jacket. “Fuck,” she groans. “It’s my boss.” 

She turns, abandoning the argument in favor of taking large strides further up the highway and plugs her opposite ear with her finger. 

Agatha glances at him, her expression waning from irate to annoyed. She kicks a piece of tire down the road, opposite of Rio, cursing under her breath. She wants to scream and hit Rio in the teeth. 

Billy sighs, mustering the courage to speak. “So… I know you say I’m not allowed to ask you personal questions,” he starts, his hands clenching together. 

Agatha faces him as Billy approaches.  She eyes him, disapproval written all over her features. “Then why does it feel like you’re about to violate that order?” 

He presses his lips together for a moment and almost reconsiders. He huffs out, as if he doesn’t know where to begin. “It just seems like…” Agatha arches her brow and tilts her head, warning the young man. “There’s something going on between you and Agent Vidal.”

As soon as he says Rio’s name, his eyes grow seeing Agatha’s anger start to rev up again. “Teen, I’d advise you to-“

“Look, I totally get it,” he interjects, hands up in defense. “Her going over your head this morning?” His brows are raised. “Pretty screwed up, even if you two do hate each other.” 

Agatha’s confusion must be evident. “Uh-“

“She’s weirdly good at pushing your buttons, which I know pisses you off. As someone who sometimes accidentally pushes said buttons. But, still,” he continues, shrugging. “It’s not her fault.” He points to the tire behind him. 

Agatha looks to him, to the tire, to Rio, then back to Billy. Her arms cross and she rubs her hands up her sides to warm them. “If you’re going to tell me to apologize, don’t waste your breath.” 

Billy holds his hands up, shaking his head. “I didn’t say that.” He shifts on the balls of his feet. He hums before finding his words. “Don’t let her get to you, is what I’m trying to say.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, casting his gaze over the passing traffic. Rio is still on the phone, her brow furrows in stern concentration. “Yeah, she’s got rank and her science, which, admittedly is really freakin’ sweet-“

“Get to the point here, Teen,” Agatha bemoans, lips pursed, impatient. 

“Right, sorry! She’s not you, Agatha. You’re the best detective in Jersey hands down-“

“Wow, couldn’t even give me tri-state?” Agatha chides, the corner of her lip curling up. 

Billy forces a smile but it falters. “It’s weird for me to see you off your game-“

“Off my game?” Agatha scoffs. “Kid, you-“

“You’re distracted, more irritable than normal, not sleeping- and don’t tell me you are because this,” he gestures to her face, “tells me otherwise. I hate to say it, but as your friend-“

“Oh, ho, we are so not friends, Teen,” Agatha forces a dry chuckle, half entertained, half in disbelief. 

“I’m on your team,” Billy says quickly. “That’s all.” He holds his hands up again. “And I do think Rio wants to be too.” A loud horn blares, the twosome look back to see Rio flagging down the tow truck. 

Minutes later, her cruiser is getting chained to the truck, the sound of grinding metal piercing the air. Billy’s helping out the driver, a man who looks like he should have retired ages ago. Rio and Agatha stand on the side of the road. Last Billy mentioned, Alice was less than ten minutes away. 

She watches her cruiser lift half off the ground as the driver guides it to his truck. Her cruiser was an older model, but she was reliable as hell — if not possibly overdue for a tire rotation but that wasn’t anyone’s business but Agatha’s. “I really hope this was worth it, Vidal,” Agatha goads, hands on her hips.

“Or what?” Rio challenges, though her tone is flat. 

Agatha glares. “You know, it’s bad enough to chauffeur you up here and watch you play in the sand and flirt for some information, but now, my fucking cruiser’s gonna be in the shop for at least a-“

“Ohhh, I see,” Rio drags out, a smile blooming. “You’re butt-hurt because she gave me her number?” 

“That’s- I am not!” Agatha tries, rolling her eyes. 

Rio steps in, close enough Agatha can feel the heat radiating from her body. She raises her sunglasses. A fire burns behind her bronzed eyes. “Merritt seems like she’s a woman who knows what she wants and gets it. And that’s a hell of a lot more I could say for you.” 

“I get-“

“No, Agatha,” Rio stops her. “You don’t get it. Because if you did, last night wouldn’t have ended the way it did.” She replaces her glasses, stepping back from Agatha. “This game you keep playing? This… pretending? You’re torturing yourself more than you’re torturing me.” 

“God, you’re so melodramatic,” Agatha groans. She sees Alice’s car approaching and the officer turns her lights on. She pulls the car to the side and Agatha calls to Billy. She takes one last look at her cruiser and sighs heavily. 

“You’re an asshole,” Rio says abruptly, ensuring to check Agatha’s shoulder as she leaves to head towards Alice. 

I know, Agatha thinks. 

She rides in the back with Teen — who, along with Alice, is silently surprised Agatha is riding in the back seat rather than demanding Alice hand over her keys. Agatha doesn’t say much during the half-hour drive back to the station.

Inside, Agatha is quick to peel off from the foursome, thanking Alice before instructing anyone who could hear that she was going to her office and isn’t to be bothered for the remainder of the day. It wasn’t rare for Agatha to make these mildly threatening banishments from her office, especially if something really ticked her off. Her colleagues were usually way too happy to give her the time out she needed. She only hoped Rio would follow suit. 

Agatha buries herself in her work for a few hours until the end her day comes near. Thankfully, she had been left alone. Judging by the hushed sounds of the station, she figures most of everyone has gone home. She sincerely hopes if she stays long enough, she can be the last one out and not have to face down Rio for what feels like the twentieth time this week. 

An alert comes across her computer screen, another inter-district notice about the poor weather brewing from the east and heading toward Westview. The Chief ordered all officers to take additional on-call shifts, as bad weather tended to breed more car accidents, emergency room visits, and the occasional criminal attempt to take advantage of police distraction to loot local convenience stores. Agatha was grateful she was beyond those junior days of her career, so she could focus on her case. 

Agatha stands, stretching her arms above her head. Her eyes were growing tired from staring at her computer screen and her low back aches from sitting. The rain outside is coming down loud enough to be heard, but Agatha isn’t impressed. She doubts the storm’s threat and only hopes it’s enough to deter their perp from committing any further atrocious acts. 

She moves around her desk, rubbing her back and hips when the latch on her door clicks and it opens slowly, then more assuredly. 

Agatha groans, “You better have something about the case-“

”Your idle threats are starting to bore me,” Rio replies, unbothered. She enters, shutting the door behind her and leaning against it. She tosses a file on the couch to her right. “I looked into the employees the director gave me, mostly clean but a few have some criminal records.”

There’s a beat of silence, the two women staring at one another when Agatha’s arms fall to her side. “Okay? You can leave now.”

Rio pushes off the door, “You know what? Fuck you, Agatha-“ 

“Oh, bite me, Vidal,” Agatha interjects, she points at the door. “Just leave me alone.”

”No!” Rio says, her tone a little louder. “I’m sick and tired of you treating me like shit. I’m a federal fucking agent, and a damn good one at that. And while you’ve made it loud and clear you want nothing to do with me, the least you’re going to do, is show me some fucking respect-“

“Respect?“ Agatha scoffs, leaning against her desk, crossing her arms. “Like the kind you showed me when you went over my head to the Chief this morning?” 

“Get over it!” Rio barks. She closes in and Agatha feels the temperature of her office heat up. “I’m here to do my job-“

Agatha launches off her desk, losing patience and composure. She holds her hand up, ticking off her fingers as she says, “which is what? Chasing bogus leads, pissing me off or trying to get me in bed?”

Rio lets a deprecating laugh escape her throat, her voice coarse and angry. “Clearly, that’s been a fucking waste of time.” Rio steps forward again, knowing the proximity only fuels Agatha’s temper. Her deep brown eyes make quick work of sizing up Agatha. She refuses to be intimidated by the detective. “I must be stupid or fucking crazy to think anything would have changed from the last time I was here.” 

They’re close enough Agatha can feel the warmth radiating from Rio’s body, sees the fire in her brown eyes turning them a coppery hue. Even as angry as she was, Rio was still so fucking beautiful. 

“You were chicken shit then, and you’re chicken shit now,” Rio spits through her teeth. She has to peer up at Agatha at this closeness, the intensity of it almost suffocating. 

Agatha doesn’t realize what she’s doing until it’s already happening. She’s got Rio by the lapels of her jacket, fists balled into the fabric and yanks her closer. When her lips meet Rio’s, it’s like a window’s been opened and Agatha can breathe again. 

It’s brief though, Rio flinching away as puzzlement washes over her features, softening them. Her bottom lip trembles and she swallows thickly. Their eyes meet, Rio’s cooled and pleading to Agatha’s flitting and conflicted. The detective can’t stand it any longer and brings her lips to Rio’s again. 

Agatha kisses Rio desperately, like Rio’s her lifeline. Her insides dissolve and her heart races when she feels Rio’s tongue brush against her lips. She lets Rio inside, using her own tongue to taste Rio. There’s a lingering mild spice Agatha recognizes as the orange winter tea Rio likes in the evenings. She catches Rio’s earthen scent when Agatha moves to pepper the agent’s neck with firm kisses and can’t help but suck on Rio’s pulse, thrumming heavily against the flat of her tongue. Rio lets out an exhale, the tail end of it a whimper. Her hands are on Agatha, roaming from her biceps downward to grip her hips. The detective maneuvers them, Rio now pinned between Agatha and the desk. 

Rejoining their lips, Agatha unleashes her desire, she aches to consume Rio, to tell Rio everything she wants to hear and make it all be true. In these fleeting moments, Agatha wants nothing more than to be what Rio yearns for. To be whole and healed and honest. 

Rio sucks on Agatha’s bottom lip, her teeth pressing just enough to elicit a soft moan from the detective. Agatha’s hands have wound themselves in Rio’s hair, tugging strands free from her hair clip as she massages her fingertips into Rio’s scalp. The sensation makes Rio shudder and she licks inside Agatha’s mouth again, hungry for more, more. And Agatha wants to fucking give it to her. 

She shifts her leg so her thigh presses between Rio’s and drops her hands to Rio’s ass, hoisting her up and onto her thigh. It’s too much fucking fabric to feel what Agatha aches to feel, but the friction and position is enough to cause Rio to moan into Agatha’s ear. It turns Agatha’s legs to jelly but she doesn’t dare weaken, not when Rio’s kissing her and squeezing her ass to improve her leverage. Agatha pulls Rio’s hips down, her tongue tasting the skin of her neck again, and groans into the softness above her collarbone at the sensation of Rio rolling her hips. 

Rio reaches into Agatha’s locks, a fistful of hair and scalp and forces their lips to meet again. Agatha is all too willing to comply, their lips and tongues massaging and sucking and teeth nipping. Rio’s grinding harder, Agatha’s hands firmly on her hips, guiding her movements while kissing Rio with a fierceness she hasn’t ever before. 

Agatha’s mind starts to wander ahead of herself, wanting less clothing, more touching. The frenzy of Rio’s desire mixed with her own is like the molten glass they encountered earlier — liquid and white hot. Rio releases another muffled groan against Agatha’s mouth and Agatha can’t fucking take it any longer. 

She releases one hand from Rio’s hip and reaches between them, cupping Rio with a fervor. The younger woman tries to moan but their open-mouthed kisses muffle most of the sound. Agatha rubs and presses into Rio, and she decides she’s over this teenage make-out, her desperation for more edging out the logic. 

Fuck logic, fuck her grief, fuck everything in her brain screaming at Agatha to stop, stop right now. 

Rat-tat-tat. 

They freeze. A tapping on her office door. They’re panting and Agatha has to swallow her desire before she can utter a staggered, “What?”

“Hon, I left Jerry’s car keys on my desk,” Lilia yells through the glass, louder than necessary. “Be careful, this storm’s going to be a doozy.” Rio and Agatha exchange looks, the air of passion fizzing out as reality starts to settle in. A thunderclap echoes outside. “Oh, and Rio, someone called from your office, took a message for you, it’s on your desk. Good night, girls!”

“Thanks,” Rio says, her voice shaky. Agatha glares at her, as if incensed she would dare answer and admit she was inside. 

A long moment of silence passes, only the whistle of wind and cracks of thunder audible. The first sound to break through is a rough chuckle from Rio. “At least she knocked first.” She’s wearing a small smile, hands still on Agatha’s hips. 

Agatha turns from the door to Rio. A bubble of regret begins to roil in her stomach. Rio looks at her, cautious but the upturn of her mouth suggests she holds onto a little hope. Hope Agatha won’t run away or push her out. A hope Agatha is destined to crush. 

The detective leans away, but Rio doesn’t release her. Disappointment washes over the younger woman like an ocean wave. “Please, don’t-“ Rio begins, her voice hoarse. 

Agatha shakes her head and removes Rio’s hands. She turns towards the door, hand to her mouth as her conflicting emotions begin their all too familiar battle inside her brain. Somewhere deep within Agatha, the poisonous notion flares, refusing to be ignored. 

You’re too broken to be loved again. 

She clears her throat, “I think you should go back to Quantico.” A strong hand grips her arm, in an attempt to force her around but she resists, yanking her shoulder. “I’m serious, Vidal. You’re nothing but a fucking distraction in one of the biggest cases of my career-“

”Agatha-“ Her name escapes Rio’s mouth in a strangled exhale. 

It sends a fire-hot ball of angst to Agatha’s gut, but the detective doesn’t stop the vitriol from pouring out of her. “I mean it.” She spins, glaring at Rio, her face crumpled as if something sour leaked into the air. “You’re more trouble than you’re worth, any fuckwad from the Department can do exactly what you’re doing. This case doesn’t need you, neither does my team, and neither do I. I don’t need you, Vidal. You’re not that fucking special.”

It’s twice in twenty-four hours Agatha watches as her words slice through Rio’s arrogant composure, leaving behind a raw, open wound. Her shoulder sag and she shrinks. Her eyes water, but Rio swallows the hurt. “You’ve been dodging how you feel about me, and I kept thinking if I was patient, you’d pull your head out of your ass long enough to recognize there could have been something good between us.” 

“There’s nothing good between us,” Agatha replies, clipped. Her throat is dry and fingers tremble at the weight of her guilt. She knows every awful word she utters to the agent is built on a lie. But, it’s a lie designed to protect not only Agatha, but Rio, from a life of persistent disappointment and heartache. “It’d be in your best interest to resign from this case and from your useless fucking feelings. Go home, Rio. There’s nothing for you here.”

At this, a tear falls from Rio’s eye but she catches it with the back of her hand. She’s white-hot with anger, but hurt first and foremost. She knows the thing between them was worth exploring, she just wished earnestly Agatha wasn’t so afraid to try it. She wanted Agatha to trust her, to give her a fucking chance. “You’re a pathetic excuse for a human being, you know that?” She shoves Agatha, it's weak but Agatha stumbles back, out of the way. Rio flings the door open, turning once more to glare at the detective. “You got your way, Agatha. As you always do because I can’t-“ her voice cracks, “I can’t do this anymore. I’m done.”

With that, Rio slams the door, the blinds shaking as they clatter against the glass. Agatha leans against her desk, watching as the blinds swing to a slow lilt. She isn’t surprised when hot tears trail down her cheeks. Alone, she doesn’t have to bother with wiping them away. 

Chapter Text

Rio swallows hard, shoving the doors with gusto as she exits the station. Wind whips her hair loose from its clip and it makes the stinging in her eyes worse. She uses her hand to shield her face from the wind and sees a sedan flash its lights twice. 

Almost immediately after exiting Agatha’s office, Rio gathered her things and dialed one of the few people she trusted in Westview for a ride to her hotel. She hurries to the car, thunder crackling overhead. Yanking the door with effort, she collapses into the seat and exhales a coarse “Thank you.”

”No problem, kiddo. I was only down the street,” Lilia shifts the vehicle into drive and pulls out of the parking lot. There’s a few minutes of silence, the wind rushes against Lilia’s sedan and the jazzy tune from the radio breaks with static. “I take it you’re not okay?”

The knot in Rio’s throat bobs up again and she swallows against it. She will not cry. She clears her throat, shifting against the seatbelt. “I don’t know why I even bother,” is what falls out of Rio’s mouth. 

“She’s so fucking mean sometimes, you know?” Rio says. Lilia nods in agreement. “She’s ornery and irritable and always has to do things her way. She’s fucking, just so- UGH!“ Rio stops. She brings her hand to her face and rubs her brow, defeated, forlorn. “You’d think all of that would be enough to make me hate her.”

”But, you don’t,” Lilia finishes, her tone compassionate. 

“No,” Rio admits, her voice wavering. “No, I don’t, I’ve tried and as much as she pisses me off, as much as she… hurts me, I don’t hate her. I can’t but I wish I did.”

Lilia pulls into the hotel parking lot, her brakes screeching to a halt. The wind loosens leaves from a nearby tree and they flutter over the sedan. Rio watches them dance across the windshield, then feels Lilia’s hand on her arm. Her touch is warm, familiar in a way that reminds Rio of her mother. 

Lilia’s wearing a soft, sad smile. “She’s a hard woman, honey. She’s got that heart of hers locked up like Fort Knox, but-“ she gestures between them, “we bother because that heart’s a good one.” 

At this, Rio can’t resist her emotions further. Her eyes blur with tears and she dabs at her eyes before they can fall. 

“Agatha’s given me an ear full a few times over the years, but you know who was by my side when I had to get a lump removed from my breast? Harkness. She held my hand through the whole thing then cooked me dinner that night while I was high as a kite on painkillers. We laughed, we cried, we fell asleep on the couch to reruns of Gilligan’s Island.” 

Rio can oddly, easily envision Lilia’s memory and the thought of Agatha’s laughter tugs on the corners of her mouth. “Under the steel, lies an incredibly loving person. She just needs to learn that it’s okay for her to let those walls down. But, she’s afraid because the last time she did, the little person she loved most in the world passed on.”

Wiping at her eyes again, Rio sniffles. “I’d never pretend to know how painful that is. But, is it selfish of me to think I could make her the tiniest bit less miserable?” 

Lilia shakes her head. “No, honey, that makes you not only a good egg, but a patient one at that. I’m sure it’s not surprising to hear, but a lot of people have given up on Agatha.”

A stone of shame sinks in Rio’s gut, recalling the last sentiment she expressed to the detective. I can’t do this anymore, I’m done.

“I don’t want to, but I don’t know what else to do,” Rio confesses. “She knows where I stand. She knows how I feel. I’m not sure I can keep letting her take a hammer to my heart. How is that fair?” She looks to Lilia, pleading with her eyes for an answer from the wiser woman. 

“It’s not,” Lilia confirms. “And I sincerely hope she pulls her head out of her ass for once and gives herself the permission to love again. Life’s too short,” she finishes simply. 

Rio nods, her mouth presses into a weak smile. “Thank you for the ride.”

“Anytime.” Lilia pats her arm again. 

“And for talking.” 

“That, especially, anytime,” Lilia winks. Rio unclips her seatbelt and moves to exit but feels Lilia’s hand upon her arm again. She stops and turns to face Lilia again. “For what it’s worth, kiddo, I got a gut feeling things will work out all right.” 

“I hope your gut’s right,” Rio gives into a small grin. “Text me when you get home?” Lilia promises and pulls out of the parking lot. 

Her condo is about ten minutes away but the drive feels longer as she cruises through this bad weather. There are recycle bins toppling over and ‘FOR SALE’ signs flailing dramatically on their small hinges. Driving slower than she usually would, she feels the wind nudge her car and squints at the brightness of lightning in the distance. Bad weather always stirred up trouble in town, she knew it’d be a busy day at the station tomorrow. 

She’s wind-whipped when she finally enters her front door. Her curls poof out in all directions. She has barely removed her shoes when a banging knock on her door competes with the roaring sound of another thunderclap. Only mildly surprised, she opens the door to find Agatha Harkness on her doorstep. She’s tied her hair in a braid but the wind is too strong and dozens of pieces of it fly in and out of her face, eyes squinting as she tries to wrestle the pieces behind her ears. “You’re here sooner than I thought you’d be,” Lilia ushers the hunkered woman inside. 

“What do you mean?” Agatha grunts out, yanking her coat, clearly disgruntled. “You were expecting me?”

Lilia throws her hands up. “I’ve got the gift-“

”Oh, shut up,” Agatha groans, brushing past the woman she reluctantly calls a friend. 

Lilia follows Agatha into her own kitchen and busies herself at the stove. “Let me make you some tea,” Lilia insists. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Agatha knows better to say no and deny the ache in her chest. She slumps at the dinette in Lilia’s snug kitchen and her form melts into the chair. She undoes her hair, fingers combing through the snarled locks. “You have any tea that’ll make me less of an asshole?”

”Honey, if I did, I would have slipped it to you a long time ago,” Lilia deadpans. She sets a cup and saucer in front of Agatha and across from her. She sinks into the opposite chair, rests her chin in her hand, elbow propped on the table and settles in. “What are you doing, Agatha?” 

Agatha stops mid-comb, her jaw shifts like she’s chewing on Lilia’s question. She drops her hair and lets her hands fall to her lap with a muffled slap. “I really wish I fucking knew-“

”Rio’s got a good soul,” Lilia says, her brow arching. “What’s got you so tied up about this?” Agatha only frowns, looking away and biting her lip. Lilia tries a different approach. “Agatha, you’re a good woman, you’ve got a good head on your shoulders, there is no reason on this god forsaken shit hole of a planet you don’t deserve to have someone as equally as good as you.” Agatha seems so small in her chair, ruminating in her misery and in Lilia’s words. The kettle screams for Lilia’s attention and she retrieves it, pouring steaming water into their cups. She puts the kettle back and returns to her seat. She hates seeing Agatha so down. It felt too similar to the weeks following Nicky’s passing.  “Why do you keep standing in the way of your own happiness?” 

Agatha starts to dissolve. Her voice cracks when she cries out, angrily “because I don’t deserve it! I had my happiness and I lost it when I lost Nicky.” Lilia could see the grief wash over Agatha, and she could sense the woman’s ache; losing her little boy created a chronic, festering wound. “I can’t imagine a world where happiness exists without him, Lilia. I just can’t.” 

Agatha falls forward into her hands, fingers sinking into her hair as she curls into herself. Her voice is muffled, shaking and raw. She’s on the verge of spilling over, and all it takes is a warm hand on her shoulder for the dam to break. Agatha cries, deep enough her breath comes out in shattering sobs and huffs. “How could I be anything close to happy without my little guy?” 

“Oh, baby,” Lilia rubs Agatha’s back in soothing strokes. “Don’t you think your little guy would want you to be happy? He loved you so much.” This makes Agatha weep harder, but Lilia knows the woman needs the reminder, needs to be faced with the truth. “He adored you, and wherever he is, I know he wouldn’t want you to be anything other than happy.” 

Agatha turns and rests her head on folded arms. Her eyes are watery and nose red. “I don’t want to forget my son,” she mumbles into her sleeve. 

“Is that what you’re afraid of?” Lilia asks, gently prodding. 

“Sometimes,” Agatha swallows thickly, “with Rio, I forget about… it’s like I get away from all the shit I’ve been through.” 

Lilia knits her brow. She knew Agatha harbored a special kind of grief, the kind reserved for mothers who’ve lost their children to illness. Guilt. Regret. A deep sense that a part of Agatha was missing. “You and I both know there’s nothing and no one in this world that could ever make you forget Nicky.” Lilia pats the back of Agatha’s hand, as the woman sheds a few tears. “You’ve worn your grief for so long, you haven’t forgotten Nicky, but you’ve forgotten how to live and, baby, you’ve got years and years still ahead of you.” 

Agatha inhales a shaky breath. “Why is this so hard for me?” 

Lilia replies, “you had your heart break in one of the worst ways a person can experience heartbreak. Be kind to yourself, Agatha.” 

Agatha finally takes a sip of her tea and grimaces. “This tastes like compost.” 

“Well, it’s good for the nerves so bottoms up,” Lilia chides, grinning as Agatha takes another pained sip. “So, what’s your plan?”

“My plan?” Agatha asks, puzzled. 

Lilia rolls her eyes, letting her palm hit the table with a soft thwap. “To win back Rio’s favor? Come on, Harkness!”

The detective sighs, her eyes downcast. “I, uh… I said some really shitty things to her tonight.” 

“So I’ve gathered,” Lilia gestures for her to continue. 

Agatha picks at an invisible lint on the hem of her shirt. “And… I might have told her to go back to Quantico.” 

Lilia lets out a huff. “You think she’s actually going to listen to you? When have you ever been able to tell that woman what to do? Isn’t that why you’re usually annoyed yet also infatuated with her?” 

“I’m not infatuated with her,” Agatha defends. 

Lilia’s expression falls flat. “She’s not gone. She’s not stupid enough to travel in this weather and too hard-headed to give up on a case — that’s something you two have in common. It’s what makes you a good team.” 

“That doesn’t necessarily mean-“

“Oh, hush, will you?” Lilia groans. “Look, honey, you can stay in my kitchen all night coming up with one hundred and one reasons why you shouldn’t give you and Rio a chance. But, at the end of the day, you are the only person standing in the way of your happiness. And I genuinely hope you’ll see you are so deserving of that happiness, Aggie.” She smirks at the old nickname she doesn’t use very much for the detective, the familiarity causing the corner of Agatha’s lip to turn upwards. “Your Nicky wouldn’t want anything for you but love and joy.” Agatha nods as a few more tears fall from her eyes, and she wipes them with the back of her hand. When she sets her hand back on the table, Lilia takes it and gives it a squeeze. “You can do it. I promise, it’ll be okay,” Lilia finishes with a wink.

Agatha leaves Lilia’s not too long after. The wizened secretary instructs Agatha to go straight to Rio’s hotel and plead forgiveness. She agrees, she’ll talk to Rio… but is unsure if tonight is the time to do it — she keeps this indecision to herself. She gets in her loaner cruiser and departs Lilia’s, her brain in overdrive despite the gross tea Lilia forced her to finish. 

Westview didn’t get rain like this, a wild storming, angry rain. Usually, if it was raining, Agatha would be enjoying it from her couch with either a case file or a good book in her hands. But tonight, she’s too restless after her conversation with Lilia and the rolling thunder only adds to her unease.

The brakes on the junior officer’s cruiser squeal as she halts in front of a red light. The rain whacks the windshield with such a force, to Agatha it sounds like the cracking of a hundred whips. The street sign sways, and as Agatha watches it, she sighs at where she ended up. Literally, at a crossroads. 

If she went straight, she would find herself getting home in about fifteen minutes. To her left, a tiny neon sign barely visible through the downpour, was the hotel where Rio was staying. She could be there in six minutes, maybe even three if she threw the sirens on. 

She rested her head in her hand, elbow propped on the door. Though she’d told Lilia she was going to talk to Rio, she wasn’t able to shake the pang of doubt from souring her insides. What if Rio really was done? What if she’d told Agatha to fuck off? What if Rio did already leave? 

The last part had Agatha in a chokehold. Teetering on the verge of possibly letting someone in, after so many years of constant vigilance, of wearing tension like a cape because Agatha swore to never let her guard down. She was hard but her core felt empty. 

Then, along came Rio. 

Rio made Agatha feel. A whole lot of things. Usually, annoyed, inconvenienced, or pissed off. But, she also made something bloom in Agatha’s emptiness. A warmth, a welcoming. Rio listened to Agatha, almost all of the time. She remembered things about her, appreciated her mind and her skills as a detective. 

Even her sarcastic comments and witty remarks had grown on Agatha. Rio had a dark, but good sense of humor. She teased Agatha often, not intimidated at all by the detective’s sharp tongue. In fact, Rio wasn’t afraid to challenge Agatha at all. She would go toe to toe with the detective, eye her up and down, and justify her perspective then leave Agatha scrambling for a retort. 

Rio was brilliant. Despite what Agatha had said earlier, Agatha had never met a more competent federal agent. Rio didn’t need Agatha to praise her mind, but the handful of times Agatha had, she didn’t miss the way Rio’s smile bloomed with pride. Agatha liked making Rio smile, whether with a roll of Rio’s eyes at Agatha’s snark or on the tail end of a flattering remark. 

And when Rio looked at her? 

Agatha had mixed emotions about her appearance. Most days, she didn’t give a shit what she looked like. Her ability to care about what she considered trivial things, such as hair style or clothing brands, was nearly non-existent. She was a woman of practical approach. She had a physical job which demanded she maintain her cardiovascular health. But, beyond her basic exercise routine, Agatha applied moisturizer most nights, tried to drink plenty of water during the day, and settled into the notion of middle-aged-dom. She didn’t need to look good for anyone. 

Ever since becoming a detective, Agatha had shown up to the station every day in some sort of combination of jeans (dark blue or black), flannel or button-down, t-shirt (primarily in navy or light grey), and boots (she had a summer pair and a winter pair). Sometimes a coat and the occasional scarf. Jennifer Kale had begged her on multiple occasions to let the social worker give her a makeover but Agatha always rejected her with a “over my dead body, Kale - and even then! Stay away from my corpse!”

Regardless of the little effort Agatha put into her appearance, she caught Rio numerous times staring and a dozen more times where Rio was not so secretive about where her gaze lingered. Rio hadn’t been exactly shy to point out how much she appreciated Agatha’s curves, her blue-grey eyes, or her rare smile. “Is that a smile, Detective?” Rio once asked her when she complimented Agatha on her handling of a particularly rowdy group of reporters. Agatha hadn’t been expecting praise, and couldn’t help the tug on the corner of her lips as Rio teased her. “Hmm,” Rio had smirked, “‘enjoys words of affirmation’, noted,” she’d said, pretending to jot a note on her palm. 

The particular manner in which Rio stared at Agatha, with the intensity of a thousand suns, could make the detective’s insides burn with desire (or melt with shame when Rio was ticked off). When it was desire pooling in those deep brown eyes, Agatha would try to stop the wonderings of what it’d be like to have those eyes staring up at her, while she’s over Rio, fucking her into oblivion. Rio made her feel like the confidence she once possessed in youth was not too far in her past after all. It riled Agatha knowing a gorgeous woman like Rio had a thing for a worn-out, middle-aged mom from Jersey. Maybe, she wasn’t so worn out.  

The green light signals Agatha to drive straight, the left turn arrow beams red. Agatha swallows. She’s utterly exhausted, damp from the rain and thinks her underarms are overdue for a washing. If Lilia was so sure about Rio not risking travel in the storm, the conversation could wait until tomorrow, couldn’t it? Maybe Agatha would text Rio when she got home and try to-

“Marching ever forward

‘Neath the wooded shrine

I stray not from the path

I hold Death’s hand in mine”

She freezes. Her hand darts to the radio and she turns it up. It’s spliced with static but it’s there. 

The Ballad of the Witches’ Road. 

Nicky’s favorite song. 

“Primal night, giveth sight

Familiar by thy side

If one be gone, we carry on,

Spirit as our guide”

If one be gone, we carry on; spirit as our guide. 

It hits Agatha like a ton of bricks. Nicky. Her Nicky. It’d been ages since Agatha had heard this song, even longer since she’d heard it on the radio. And now, at an actual crossroads, in the middle of a torrential downpour through static radio waves, a thrum of clarity washes over Agatha. 

Lilia was right. No matter what, where or who, Agatha would never forget her son. She loved being a mother, especially to that bright boy of hers. She knew the longing for him would never cease, but perhaps, Agatha could make some room in her darkened heart for another. Not just any other. But, Rio. The one person who’d made her world spin upside down in a way she didn’t think would ever happen again. 

Before the tendrils of logic could coil themselves into Agatha’s brain, she flicks her emergency lights on and maneuvers the vehicle into the left turn lane, speeding through the red arrow. 

As she approaches Rio’s hotel, Agatha’s gut twists in tighter knots. She tried to rehearse what she was going to say but her mind kept running in loops. 

It was almost laughable. Agatha Harkness had interrogated some of the shittiest individuals Jersey had ever known but when it came to matters of the heart, she clammed up. She blames her mother because it’s easiest but knows Nicky’s passing has raised some formidable walls around her heart. 

The rain beats down in sheets, Agatha’s wipers going full force as she grips the steering wheel until her knuckles pale. She exhales a shaky breath as her car pulls into the hotel parking lot. The eerie glow of the vacancy sign casts neon shadows on the few cars there and the brakes let out a soft squeak when Agatha parks a few doors down from Rio’s room. 

Agatha closes her eyes and inhales a slow, steady breath. She still wasn’t exactly sure how she would start her multi-part apology and half-expects Rio to shut the door in her face. It’d be fair, after the terrible things Agatha said to her. Weeks of terrible things, actually. The reminding guilt sends another pang to her stomach. Agatha tried to deny her feelings and attraction towards Rio and knew her caustic words and actions resulted in more than just bruising Rio’s ego. Rio’s hurt expression flashes again in Agatha’s mind and she holds a hand to her chest, trying to anchor herself. 

All you can do is say you’re sorry and that you’ll give things a shot, Lilia had said. It sounded so fucking simple but it wasn’t. As she continues with a few more deep breaths, her phone pings. It was Lilia. 

Don’t overthink it. Don’t stand in your way.

God damn it, Lilia, Agatha thinks. With her fingertips pressed into her chest, Agatha exhales in a big sigh and finally musters the gumption to get out of her car. She tries to cover her head with an arm as she makes her way to Rio’s door but it’s a moot point. The rain is wild and wind is whipping and by the time she reaches the room where Rio is staying, she’s drenched, with hair clinging to her cheeks and rainwater dripping down her face. 

She knocks on the door, habitually glancing left and right as the coil in her gut constricts, waiting, hoping Rio will answer. She’s sure it’s only seconds but time eeks by and the sour bile of regret and fear starts to rise. Before it can burst out of her, the door swings open and Rio seems surprised to see her. 

She’s wearing that stupid FBI sweatshirt and lounge shorts, hair swept up in a sloppy bun. It further proves Agatha’s theory that no matter what Rio wears or looks like, she will always be gorgeous. 

“What?” She says, brow arched. She blocks the entrance to her room with her body, arm hanging on the open door. 

Agatha opens and closes her mouth, once, then twice before finding words. “Can I come in?” She wipes the rain from her cheeks with the sleeve of her jacket. 

Narrowing her eyes, Rio pauses for a moment before opening the door wider and stepping aside to allow Agatha to enter. “Please tell me there’s not another body-”

“That’s not why I’m here,” Agatha says quickly. She finds herself leaning against the small table near the window. She’s too uncomfortable to sit. 

Rio steps further into the room and sits on the edge of the bed, crossing one leg over the other. She rests her arms in her lap and gives a half-hearted shrug with her shoulder. “Then, why are you here?” There’s a whisper of venom when she asks this. 

Agatha, nearly unable to be still, folds her arms across her chest to quiet her restlessness. “Because… I owe you an apology.” She can’t stand Rio’s scrutinizing gaze for another moment, and sheepishly rubs the bridge of her nose for a second of reprieve. As she does, she says, “And the truth.”

Rio only responds with a flat, “Hell must be freezing over.”

Agatha only nods, knowing she doesn’t really deserve Rio’s kindness, not after what happened earlier. She begins, “I shouldn't have said what I said, about not needing you on this case… because I do. And… I don’t want you to go back to Quantico,” Agatha admits, somehow regaining the gumption to make eye contact with the brooding woman before her. Rio doesn’t respond but only presses her lips together, her jaw clenching. “And, you have every right to tell me to fuck off because I’ve been nothing but an outright prick to you, but, you also have the right to know that I’ve tried shoving everything I feel towards you away and I still can’t stop thinking about you.” 

At this admission, Agatha sees Rio’s anger recede, just a little. It’s Agatha’s first, full admission and it’s not lost on Rio. The woman moves from the bed to stand a short distance from Agatha. The proximity makes Agatha’s hair on the back of her neck stand up. She has zero control over the situation and being okay with that is an incredibly foreign concept to the detective. 

“You said some really mean shit. And, how do I know you’re being for real this time?” Rio asks, an ache resonating through her voice. “Because I’m done playing games - so if you’re going to be honest with me, then be fucking honest. What do you want?”

Agatha lets her arms fall to her sides and rests her hands on the edge of the table. “I want you,” Agatha says. “I’ve wanted you since the first time you stepped into my office.” At this, there’s a weight of relief lifted from her chest and it feels much more potent than Agatha would have guessed it could be. She sees Rio’s eyes widen, just slightly at her confession. “That even though there’s so many reasons this could blow up in our faces, I’m not gonna keep screwing around. It’s- it’s pointless. I like you and I’m sorry for being such a stubborn asshole about it.” 

“You are an incredibly stubborn asshole,” Rio comments, stepping forward once. A smirk teases the corner of her lips. 

“I know.” 

“And you can’t want me tonight and then tomorrow, decide you don’t anymore.” Rio adds, holding up a finger in warning, yet inching a step closer. 

“I won’t,” Agatha promises, straightening as Rio is a foot from her. “I’m through with all of the pretending.” 

“And, I’m still pissed off about the shit you said,” Rio says, her brow furrowing. 

Nodding, Agatha’s the one who moves closer now. “You’re allowed to be,” she says. She can’t maintain this distance between them any longer. She reaches and rests a hand on the back of Rio’s upper arm, tugging gently. Rio is resistant to Agatha’s pull for a split second, as if she’s afraid Agatha’s going to go back on her word. Though still worried she won’t be enough for Rio, she isn’t going to run away. Not any more. 

“I know I haven’t given you reason to trust me on this, but I’m hoping you’ll give me a chance to undo all my… stupidity,” Agatha asserts as she rubs her thumb against Rio’s arm. 

“What’s changed, Agatha?” Rio asks, shrugging out of Agatha’s touch. She misses the way it makes Agatha wince. She asks a simple question, the answer far more complex. “I mean, an hour ago you were telling me to fuck off and now… now you’re here in the middle of the night? In the middle of a disgusting storm telling me you like me, like me?” She finishes, skepticism written all over her face. 

Running a hair through her hair, Agatha feels the temptation to leave thrum through her. She should have known Rio wouldn’t make it easy, but she also deserved the honesty Agatha said she’d commit to. 

“Yeah, I am,” she starts in a tremorous murmur. “Telling you that I wanna give this-“ she gestures between them, “this thing a try and stop-“

“Being a little bitch about it?” Rio challenges, narrowing her eyes. 

Agatha’s words are caught in her throat at the slight. She swallows her pride. “Yeah.” 

“You still didn’t tell me what’s changed your mind,” the agent reminds her. 

Agatha bites her tongue inside her mouth. Her eyes sting with the threat of tears and she coughs to clear her throat. She can’t look at Rio when she utters, “my son… I was thinking about my son. And what he would want for me. What I wanted for him.” A tear slips out and Agatha hopes it's hidden by her curtain of hair as she hangs her head, unable to withstand the sweet earnestness of Rio’s gaze. “And I talked to Lilia,” she quickly adds. 

She feels Rio’s closeness before she can see it, eyes blurry as Rio uncrosses Agatha’s arms, wrapping them around her waist. Rio sinks into Agatha’s arms, gripping around her tightly as Agatha’s hand comes to rest on the back of her head, holding her as if she’s the most precious thing on the planet. She feels Rio bury her face in the crook of her shoulder, a quiet but distinct sniffle heard between thunder cracks. They stand like that for several moments, Agatha blinks away her tears as Rio strokes the middle of her back. 

When Rio pulls back, Agatha can’t see any tears but Rio’s chocolate brown eyes are watery and crinkled. She wears a small, sad smile. “I don’t ever want to press you about Nicky. I didn’t mean-“

“It’s okay,” Agatha interrupts, swallowing the stone in her throat and tightening her grip. “Not tonight,” Agatha is careful to request. “Eventually, though. We will.” She knows she doesn’t have to spell it out to Rio — talking about Nicky wasn’t her focus tonight, and she wasn’t quite ready to show Rio that specific piece of herself. It would be too much, too soon. “I’m really sorry I hurt you, Rio. I’ll try to… do better. If you still want-“

“Of fucking course, I want,” Rio doesn’t waste time in connecting their mouths. Her lips crush into Agatha’s, then opens to let her tongue stroke its way into Agatha’s mouth. Rio kisses her deeply, holding her close until they break away with chests heaving and Agatha brings her in, Rio settling against Agatha’s collarbone. 

“You know, I didn’t, like, plan this,” Rio mumbles into Agatha’s neck. She retreats enough to stare the other woman in the face, but their arms remain wrapped around each other. There’s a tenderness there that makes Agatha’s heart squeeze, a glisten of tears in Rio’s eyes. “I thought you were so fucking hot in that suit you wore to the forensics conference, remember?” Rio asks, a little laugh trickling out. It makes Agatha smile and she nods. She catches a mischievous twinkle in Rio’s stare, it makes her smile wider. Rio’s arms are looped around Agatha’s neck now, and she continues, “I couldn’t wait to work with you, that first time. One, because I wanted to watch your mind work. But, I also kind of hoped maybe we’d…”

“Hook up?” Agatha laughs. 

Rio blushes, fighting a toothy grin. “Yeah, but then, I started seeing a different side of you and… I just wanted you to see something in me too. But, that night, when I… I fucked it all up when I went in Nicky’s-“

“No,” Agatha stops her. She gives Rio a reassuring squeeze. “I fucked it up. I overreacted. You were right, when you called me a coward because I did start feeling something for you, and I couldn’t handle it. It- it overwhelmed me,” Agatha admits, her smile falling as shame creeps into her veins. 

Rio tsks and shakes her head. “No, that was… I shouldn’t have said that,” she mumbles. “I was angry, Agatha. I don’t really think that of you, you know?” She brings them together in another hug, squeezing the older woman to her chest. Agatha feels Rio kiss her head. “You being here, telling me all of this, letting me touch you for more than five minutes,” she teases, earning a small smile from Agatha, “proves I was wrong.”

Agatha places her palms on either side of Rio’s face. Rio melts into Agatha’s touch, allowing herself to be cradled. It feels so good, so right. Rio feels home in Agatha’s arms. “Don’t be too forgiving, Vidal.”

Rolling her eyes, Rio reaches up to tuck a tangled strand of Agatha’s damp hair behind her ear. “I didn’t say I forgave you, yet.”

“True, and I’m willing to earn it, both your forgiveness and your trust,” Agatha breathes out, her voice a little softer. She leans forward and kisses Rio on the lips. 

When they break apart, Rio’s mouth parts in a devilish grin. “I can think of a few ways to get on my good side.” Rio kisses her, firmer and Agatha’s inside bubble at the sensation of them grinning against each other’s mouths. Rio whispers against the corner of her mouth, “First up, is getting you out of these wet clothes.” 

Agatha’s only able to nod, tilting Rio’s chin up so they can kiss again. Just as Rio melted into Agatha’s arms, she now melts into Rio’s mouth. She lets the younger woman take control, letting herself fall into a heated rhythm of parting lips and stroking tongues. She feels and hears Rio groan into her mouth as Agatha’s hands move from her face to her body, desperately wanting Rio closer. Rio grips Agatha by the collar and then starts stepping backward, pulling the detective with her. 

Completely lost in Rio’s affection, Agatha does nothing but let Rio maneuver them around. When she feels the bed behind her knees, Agatha willingly buckles them to sit on the bed. This motion forces them apart and Agatha forgets all about her wet clothes, enthralled at the way Rio stares at her, equal parts enamored and hungry. It takes Rio exactly one second to be rid of her sweatshirt, tossing it carelessly to the floor. She bends down to kiss Agatha again, pushing the woman down by her shoulders when Agatha attempts to rise. Rio keeps kissing Agatha, but is able to shimmy out of her lounge shorts with an impressive effortlessness. She stands, her chest heaving slightly under a plain gray shirt and the sexiest, smallest black underwear. 

She doesn’t release Agatha’s gaze as she reaches for the hem of her shirt and tugs at it. In a few shifting movements, the shirt is over Rio’s head and it falls near her discarded sweatshirt. Unable to stop it from happening, Agatha’s mouth drops open a little. Her eyes are glued to Rio, wanting to memorize every beautiful inch of her. 

Unabashedly almost nude, Rio only smiles as she reaches forward and grabs Agatha’s collar again. “My eyes are here, Harkness,” she teases, widening them in exaggeration. She kisses Agatha again, hard for a moment before separating their lips with a soft pop. The seduction melts away for a fraction, and Rio’s features sharpen in seriousness. “Should we take these off?” She asks, tugging on the lapel of Agatha’s shift. 

“Yeah,” Agatha sighs dreamily. She stands and Rio allows it this time, stepping back to give Agatha room to disrobe. She tucks her right hand under her left elbow, propping her chin on her left hand. It pushes her breasts together and Agatha has to fight the urge to blatantly stare at the gorgeousness that is Rio’s body. Rio seems amused, and that’s all it takes for Agatha to know she must look like a drooling school boy. Her eagerness almost outshines her hesitancy to be nude in front of a woman twelve years her junior. 

Where Rio was toned and tanned, Agatha was softer and pale. She had lingering stretch marks from her pregnancy and she feels like her ass has lost its bounce. Agatha managed to shove her jeans to the ground, kicking them aside as she works on the buttons of her flannel. Her hands tremble slightly making the task a little more challenging. She is fumbling mid-way up the shirt before she feels a pair of hands on her own. Looking up, she finds Rio smiling as she takes over the unbuttoning. “Detective, do I make you nervous?”

“Obviously,” Agatha snarks, running a hand through her hair. Rio laughs in response, then pushes the sleeves down Agatha’s arm and doesn’t wait a minute longer before she’s pulling Agatha’s worn t-shirt over her head. 

Rio pauses her undressing to press a kiss to Agatha’s neck and brings her in close once more. Their skin touches and Rio is warm where Agatha is cool, the latter woman tilting her head to allow Rio more access. Hands starting to roam now, Rio’s lips and tongue make patterns on the delicate skin of Agatha’s neck, then her collarbone, and then above her breast and between them. She kneads Agatha’s ass and the detective forgets all about its potential flatness. Then, hands slide up Agatha’s back and in a swift motion, her bra is undone and Rio is ridding her of it. 

Rio leans back to give Agatha a once over, then she does it again but with a devilish grin. “You’re so fucking hot,” she says with gravel in her voice. Agatha lets out a little self-deprecating laugh. Rio knits her brow, “Do you not think so?” 

“I, uh,” Agatha can feel her cheeks bloom pink, “I don’t think about it… really… ever.” 

Rio’s head tilts, as if she’s confused. She kisses Agatha hard on the mouth, pressing herself into Agatha. The sensation of Rio’s breasts against her own causes a moan to escape Agatha’s mouth but it catches in her throat. Rio’s mouth is touching hers as she speaks, “Agatha,” she whispers, “I’m so fucking into to you. Every inch of you.”

The only thing Agatha can do is whimper in response because Rio is kissing her again and her brain completely turns to mush, in sensory and emotional overload. Being wanted, so desperately wanted, by Rio makes something in Agatha feel alive. 

Rio breaks them apart by placing her fingers on Agatha’s wrists, her lids heavy and eyes dark. “Lay on the bed,” she says, not demanding but requesting. Agatha looks over her shoulder and as demurely as she can, sits and scoots herself to the middle of the bed. Unsure what to expect, she bristles a little under Rio’s wanton gaze and feels so incredibly naked, more than just nude. Completely bare. It’s equally terrifying and exhilarating. 

Not wasting anymore time, and unable to be apart from touching Agatha any longer, Rio brings her knees to the mattress and maneuvers herself to straddle the woman. Rio leans down to keep kissing the detective, both moaning at the sensation of their chests pressed together, the heat of Rio’s core barely hovering above Agatha’s. Hands are massaging and caressing, Rio cups then squeezes Agatha’s breast earning another hearty groan from the older woman beneath her. Rio is as talented with her touch as she is with her mouth, and the idea makes Agatha ache for more. Her hips cant up, eager for that friction and she brushes the pad of her thumb over Rio’s firm nipple. She feels Rio smiling into their kiss, clearly delighted at the roaming hands. 

Lost in the pleasure of this woman atop her, Agatha doesn’t quite register Rio’s shifting movements until she senses the agent’s warm, wet mouth on her chest. A few strategically placed kisses and Agatha’s hands wind themselves in Rio’s dark hair, arching into the woman’s kiss. Rio teases her, dragging the flat of her tongue across Agatha’s stiff nipple before taking it in her mouth and sucking - gently at first, but when she’s able to illicit another moan from Agatha, Rio sucks harder, gripping the other breast with her palm and kneading the soft tissue with reverence. 

After thoroughly enjoying Agatha’s breasts, Rio returns to her mouth and Agatha is the hungry one now. She holds Rio in place, kissing her fervently. Rio revels in the sensation of Agatha’s tongue pushing its way into her mouth, how Agatha’s fingertips dig into the flesh of her toned arms, back and ribs. Unable to not take advantage of how riled up Agatha is, Rio intends to push her over the top. 

She breaks their kiss, blue and brown eyes connecting once more. Rio grasps Agatha’s jaw, tracing her thumb over the woman’s swollen bottom lip. God, Rio loved that mouth. It could be rude and loud and mean, but fuck, each time she’d kissed Agatha, the thought of it lingered with Rio for days. And though Rio had tolerated a lot of bullshit coming from that mouth, she much more appreciated it when it was kiss-swollen and even more when it was on hers. 

“I want to know what you taste like,” Rio says, her voice thick with desire. “Can I?” She punctuates the question with a firm kiss. Even just the anticipation of tasting Agatha sends a flood of warmth between Rio’s legs. 

“Fuck,” Agatha whispers, seeming even more pent up than before, if it was possible. “Yes. Please”, is all she’s able to mutter. Rio kisses her once more, then begins a slow descent to her prize. 

Writhing under Rio’s touch, Agatha pushes any remaining shred of doubt away. Of course, she’s thought about this but actually experiencing it? Rio makes Agatha hot in a way she hasn’t felt in years, possibly not ever. She also makes Agatha feel confident in her body, something that’s been a stranger to her for years. 

Gratefully, Rio doesn’t bother to tease Agatha too long because she’s too eager to get to business. She reaches to push Agatha’s underwear down, Agatha helping by shimmying her thighs and legs. Rio is practiced enough to slip between those smooth, strong legs, then nestles herself beneath Agatha’s thighs. She hasn’t spoiled her own surprise yet though, opting to lavish Agatha’s body with strokes of her tongue and lips. First, her hips where there are faint lines of stretching skin. Then, the skin where thigh meets hip. On to the insides of Agatha’s thighs where it's petal-soft. She’s not ignoring the fact that Agatha squirms beneath or her whines and groans for where she really wants Rio’s mouth, but it’s hard not to want to put her mouth on every inch of the woman. To want to claim her and map out every freckle and mark. Rio has wanted Agatha, for so long and for so deeply, she almost combusts at the first taste of her. 

Rio licks up Agatha’s center for one long stroke, the thighs she’s holding tightening. Agatha lets out a slow, hissing “Fuck.” A positive sign, Rio moves in to press her plush lips around the firm bud of Agatha’s clit and kisses it before falling into a rhythm of sucking and licking. 

Agatha’s body practically seizes with the sensation of Rio’s mouth on her clit. God damn it, if she’d known how skilled Rio would be in bed, maybe she wouldn’t have fought this so long. It didn’t matter now though because Agatha would never be able to reconstruct this intensity with anyone ever again except Rio. The way Rio guided her tongue up and down her center, the way it danced around her clit was driving Agatha crazy. Rio was tasting her alright, in fact, she was devouring her. Cherishing her. Worshiping her. Agatha couldn’t do much except exhale curse words in ragged breaths and try to quiet the moans and whimpers escaping her throat. Rio was relentless in her dedication, and when she slipped one finger into Agatha’s core, it nearly sent the detective over the edge. 

She was grateful it didn’t though because then things would be over that much sooner and Agatha was enjoying this too much for it to be over already. Rio pushed another finger inside her, devoting her talented tongue to her clit. After this, Agatha cried out and grasped one hand to the pillow beneath her head and the other entangled itself in Rio’s hair, forcing the woman a little closer. Agatha bucked as Rio sank her fingers in deeper, curling them toward her belly button. 

Agatha felt drunk, she felt completely inebriated and the coil inside her tightened. “God damn, Vidal,” Agatha whined, chest heaving and hips grinding to meet Rio’s mouth. Rio didn’t bother responding, only chuckled against her heat before returning to finish her work. 

In a few more blessed strokes of skilled fingers and deft tongue, Agatha came completely undone. Ripples of pleasure pulsed throughout her body, her most sensitive parts white hot with ecstasy. Her cries blended with the cracking thunder and legs jerked snug against the body between her thighs. 

With the conclusion of what was possibly the best orgasm she’d had in the last decade if not her lifetime, Agatha sighed deeply, her aching want finally sated. She relaxes as if floating in a river of warmth. 

Rio places a few more languid kisses to her center then her inner thighs. She’s eager for more, and more than willing to pleasure Agatha again just to hear the sounds she makes and to have her taste on her tongue. Of course, she’s hyper aware of the gathering dampness between her own legs but Rio’s always been a generous lover. 

Agatha pulls on her arm though, directing Rio to rejoin her at the top of the mattress. Obeying, Rio shifts herself on all fours until she is at Agatha’s side. Unexpectedly, Agatha lets her arms fall open and draws Rio in, her face the perfect picture of relaxation. She smiles at Rio and it’s something about its honesty that soothes the worry in Rio’s gut, the one that wonders if Agatha might run away. Rio nestles into Agatha’s embrace, nuzzling in close, enjoying the tenderness the detective so rarely shows.

She feels Agatha sigh, sated and chuckling, her chin resting against Rio’s forehead. “I should have known someone who yaps as much as you do would be good with their mouth.” 

The statement catches Rio completely off guard and she laughs into Agatha’s chest. She playfully grabs Agatha’s ass and squeezes, “Yeah, keep that in mind next time you tell me to shut up.” 

Agatha laughs too, and leans back so she can stare at Rio in her arms. Agatha brushes a strand of hair from where it sticks to Rio’s cheek. Agatha feels kind of stupid, because she can’t stop smiling but Rio is too so maybe it’s okay. 

“I feel like I should thank you,” Agatha says, just loud enough for them to hear over the sound of the fading storm. 

“You can,” Rio answers, “but, you don’t have to.” 

“Thank you,” Agatha says anyway.

Then, that shit-eating grin comes back. “It was my pleasure,” Rio laughs, “Well, yours too I suppose.” 

Agatha only rolls her eyes, giving Rio a playful shove. Then, she closes the gap between their grinning faces and kisses Rio slowly for a moment, then more deeply. Rio’s lips have a slight tang to them which Agatha presumes is her, and something about it is so incredibly sexy. Rio parts them, whispering against her lips, “I knew you’d taste so fucking good.” 

The raspy, sexiness of Rio’s comment sends shivers down Agatha’s spine and she connects their mouths again. They kiss for a few minutes, hands roaming and caressing, before Rio parts them. Her breathing is irregular when she says with a desperate whimper against Agatha’s mouth, “touch me.” 

Agatha nods, and kisses Rio hard once more. “Turn around,” Agatha then commands in a quieted tone, her voice still raw from the moans that left her throat moments before. “Take these off,” she directs, pulling on Rio’s underwear. 

Rio’s eyes illuminate, curious. A small smirk starts creeping on her lips as she obeys, yanking her underwear the rest of the way off and turning until she’s almost completely on her stomach. She’s tilted enough to be able to peer up at Agatha, the older woman examining their positions. She looks hungry, Rio thinks. The notion releases a rush of warmth between her legs and she curls one up closer to her chest. Agatha in turn kisses her, pushing past full lips with her tongue, sliding it against Rio’s, who returns the gesture with enthusiasm. She manages to break apart long enough to chuckle when she feels Agatha’s hand envelop her wrist above their heads, trapping her left arm under the detective’s forearm. 

Agatha has effectively pinned Rio, and takes advantage of the upper hand by placing open-mouthed kisses along the nape of Rio’s neck, her shoulder, and her upper back. As she does this, Rio wriggles in anticipation. Agatha caresses the smooth skin of Rio's ass, kneading the muscle there then gives it a firm squeeze. 

The way Rio’s leg is pulled up towards her chest makes it easy for Agatha to slide her own leg between Rio’s thighs. As she does this, she maneuvers her free hand from Rio’s ass to instead reach between her legs from behind. Agatha practically gasps at the feel of Rio under her fingertips. A wicked grin forms on Agatha’s lips, as she whispers in Rio’s ear, the younger woman moans beneath her as she strokes, “You’re so wet, Vidal.” 

Rio only grunts in response because Agatha is massaging her in a steady rhythm and reinforcing her grip on the agent’s wrist. She hears Rio mumbling something under her breath, her panting quickens. 

She rubs circles around Rio’s clit several times before tracing down and teasing Rio’s entrance. Rio writhes against Agatha’s hand, trying to get Agatha where she wants and that’s when Agatha realizes what she’s saying. 

Well, she doesn’t exactly know what Rio’s was mumbling because half the words are in Spanish. It makes Agatha hot all over again. 

She can’t hold back any further, she needs to feel Rio around her fingers like she needs air to breathe. But, not wanting to seem too eager, she opts for one last little tease. She removes her hand and brings her fingers to her mouth. Their eyes meeting, Rio’s incredibly dark and completely transfixed as Agatha dips her two fingers between her own lips and sucks slowly as she removes them. Rio’s expression lights up. She bites her lip and Agatha can tell Rio’s loving everything being done to her, for her. Agatha doesn’t waste any more time, she sinks her fingers into Rio with a slow ease, the warmth enveloping her in a delicious squeeze. 

“Fuck,” Rio moans, already moving her hips, desperate for more friction. She widens the spread of her legs, giving Agatha unlimited access. “Fuck, you feel good.” 

Agatha’s in a steady rhythm, pulling her fingers out midway before pushing them in again and curling them. It’s a bit of a weird angle for Agatha’s wrist, but she’s determined to work Rio into a frenzy she won’t soon forget. “You can touch yourself,” Agatha huffs out in permission, pressing her thigh against her hand, fingers plunging just a little deeper. 

Rio lets out a strangled groan, dragging her hand free from Agatha’s loosened grip. She snakes her way between her thighs and lets out a guttural groan with the contact of her own fingertips upon her sensitive clit. “Agatha,” Rio draws out, her body tensing all over. 

Agatha melts at the sensation of her hand coming into contact with Rio’s fingers as the dark-haired woman works circles on herself at a desperate pace. Agatha whispers little encouragements in Rio’s ear, ignoring the burn in her forearm as she keeps up her motions. Soon enough, muscles clamp around her fingers and she grins wildly as she watches the woman beneath her begin to unravel.  

It happens slowly then all at once. Rio turns to muffle a scream into the pillow, her body rigid and walls squeezing around Agatha’s fingers crushing them together. Rio’s hand slows to half speed but presses harder. The detective lets out a ragged exhale, knees weakening at the feel of Rio’s wetness soaking her fingers as she helps the woman ride out the rest of her orgasm. 

As Rio’s breathing regulates, Agatha gazes down at her lover’s limp body. Rio is still, taking slow deep breaths — her back rises evenly and her hand reappears from beneath her and comes to rest atop the mattress. There’s sheen on her skin, the air around them a mixture of earth and musk. 

Agatha delicately removes her fingers, Rio twitching a bit at the sensation. Agatha rests them on the curve of Rio’s hip, her fingers glistening in the slivers of light shining through a slit in the curtains. She relaxes her own body, staying close enough for Rio to touch her. 

They lie motionless for a moment, Rio being the first to break the silence. She turns on her back and opens her eyes, blinking as her vision adjusts to the scattered darkness. Agatha remains on her side, waiting. Her fingertips remain on Rio’s hip. Tilting her face to Agatha, Rio says coyly, “you’re way better than I thought you’d be.” 

It seems even post-pleasure, Rio Vidal’s ability to be a smart-ass never ceases. Agatha chuckles, ready to fire back. “I didn’t realize you’d be such a pillow princess.” 

Rio scoff, feigning offense. She turns on her side, propping her head in her hand. “Oh, fuck off,” she laughs. “You liked it.”

Agatha raises an eyebrow, challenging. “Maybe so,” is the closest she’ll reveal to admitting the sound of Rio’s muffled cries of pleasure would make a lasting impression on her. She shifts to reach the sheet, pulling it up under her armpit. It falls short of Rio’s breasts, the younger woman not moving to cover herself. 

Agatha’s previous annoyance at Rio’s confidence has matured into a kind of admiration. Rio was the kind of person born confident, born comfortable in their skin and in their spirit. Not restless and unknowing, how Agatha had felt most of her adult life. 

Drawn from her thoughts with the warmth coming from Rio's body, the woman moves herself so their noses are inches apart. Rio’s expression is soft, quite possibly the softest Agatha has ever witnessed on those unique features. Her lips are sweetly swollen from kissing every square centimeter of Agatha’s body and adorns a sated smile. 

The detective reaches forward a gentle hand, palm to Rio’s cheek, holding her there, holding her close. Then, Agatha drags her fingertips into dark hair as Rio shifts to hover over her, toned arms bracing the bulk of her weight. She takes a beat to work up the courage to say the thing that’s nagged at her the moment Harkness started telling her the truth. “I want you to stay with me tonight,” Rio utters, almost like a confession.

A short pause passes before Agatha breaks it with a simple,“okay”, caressing Rio’s cheekbone with her thumb. “I can do that.”

“And not be gone before I wake up,” Rio adds, furrowing her brow to emphasize her seriousness. 

Agatha leans in and places a chaste kiss to Rio’s pout. “I’ll stay,” she states, “and not be gone before you wake up… on one condition.”

“Tell me.”

The corner of Agatha’s mouth twitches up, “You better not fucking snore.” Rio’s only response is a wild cackle before she recaptures Agatha’s lips into another searing kiss. 

Chapter Text

When Rio begins to open her eyes, the room is still dark despite feeling like she’s slept for ages. There’s the steady staccato of raindrops against the hotel’s roof and windows. 

She slides her palm against the sheets to the other side and finds it warm but empty. She widens her brown eyes then squints them again, trying to adjust to the dimness of the room. “Agatha?” She croaks. 

Rio sits up straight and is able to see the detective’s clothes shed so hastily the night before are gone too. A stone sinks in her stomach. She turns to the bathroom but the area appears vacant and undisturbed. 

After last night, would Agatha really have broken her promise to be there when Rio awoke? Rio’s shoulders sag, she genuinely believed Agatha when she vowed to be here. She leans back against the pillows, worrying her hands and wondering when Agatha left and what the hell to do next. 

Rio recognizes the subtle embers of anger burning in her belly, but, in the quiet of the early morning, more than anything, Rio feels hurt. Betrayed. Unwanted. 

Her eyes start to sting little and she dabs at them before any tears could form. As she does this, the hotel door suddenly unlatches and opens. Rio snatches the sheet to cover herself, heart rate spiking. 

It’s Agatha. 

Dressed, hair wild and loose down her shoulders, she steps inside with caution. “Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you.” Rio grits her teeth to stop her chin from quivering, the hurt morphing with confusion. In a few strides, Agatha’s sitting on the edge of the bed and runs a hand through her darkened waves. “This storm,” she says, her voice gentle but traced with irritation. “It knocked out nearly half of Westview’s power grid. Including here and at the station. Chief called, he’s pissed- the station’s generator is on the fritz.” 

Agatha is compelled to complain more, but stalls her talking when her vision adjusts to the darkness in the room. Rio wears a small pout and there’s a tinge of sadness in her usually warm, chocolate eyes. Agatha leans over to rest her hand on the sheet covering Rio’s thigh. “Are you okay?“

“I thought you left.” It’s clipped but Agatha is wise enough to catch the lick of pain buried there. 

Getting up from the bed, Agatha moves around it until she’s on Rio’s side and sits. Rio only watches, almost unmoving. Agatha picks up Rio’s hand, and brings it to her lips. She kisses the back of it before settling it between her own cool hands. “I meant what I said last night,” Agatha says, reaching forward to slide her fingers in Rio’s hair, resting her palm against the woman’s warm cheek. “About being more honest with you.” Rio doesn’t respond, but swallows thickly and Agatha doesn’t waste another second. She brings Rio closer, holding her and presses a kiss to her hair. “I wasn’t gonna disappear on you.” 

Rio’s muscles tighten around her and she nuzzles gratefully into Agatha’s embrace. She mumbles against her skin, “Thank you for saying that.” Agatha only responds by stroking Rio’s back and kisses her bare shoulder with an easy tenderness. 

She felt like a dam had burst inside her heart. She’d spent almost endless amounts of energy trying so fucking hard to not engage with Rio’s flirtatious games and refusing to entertain the notion of ‘what if’. Agatha was so settled into her way of life, which was why it was all the more jarring how Rio managed to slip into it. This thing with Rio had terrified Agatha and truthfully, it still did, but in moments as these, a sense of peace seeped into Agatha’s veins. As if a voice whispered from the great beyond, something was trying to tell Agatha that it wasn’t just okay to let Rio in, but encouraged her to do so. It gave her the courage she needed to get out of her head, get out of her own way in order to try and open up for the woman in her arms. 

Her reverie is disrupted when Rio parts them, looking to Agatha with something so familiar, so precious that Agatha doesn’t waste another moment before capturing Rio’s lips with her own. The kiss is gentle and soft and elicits a small hum of appreciation from Rio. 

Parted once more, Agatha brushes the back of her index finger along Rio’s jaw. “I asked Teen to bring some things from my office to my house, case files and my laptop. He should be there within the hour. It’ll be a miracle if they can get that generator working by noon.”

“So, we’ll be working from your place then?” She asked, but Agatha could tell more lay under the surface. 

“Yeah, I’m outside the power outage and I have a generator. One that actually works,” she replies, working up the courage to bring up the awkwardness between them. “Rio, I don’t want you to think last night was a one off.” 

Rio casts her eyes downward at their joined hands. “For the second I thought you were gone,” her voice still raspy with slumber, “I had this really awful feeling.” Rio meets Agatha’s blue eyes again, struck by the vulnerability within them. “And I don’t want to keep reliving that”.

Agatha could only nod, sympathetic to Rio’s concerns. She wasn’t sure she could prevent causing Rio that kind of hurt ever again. In fact, she was sure it was inevitable. She’d never been good at relationships, of almost any kind. That said, none of her previous flings or partners or even her ex-wife could hold a candle to Rio Vidal. 

Rio was everything Agatha had never experienced before. She wasn’t afraid to call Agatha on her shit and give it right back to her when she deserved it most. She was understanding and patient, even when Agatha didn’t warrant this kindness. Rio saw Agatha’s flaws and didn’t try to correct them, but saw who she was beyond the flaws and scars and pain. 

Before Agatha could appease Rio’s worries, her phone rang again. It was Teen. She answered, holding the phone with one hand and Rio’s hands with her other, fidgeting with her lover’s fingers as Teen babbled incessantly. She gave him further instructions about what she needed from her office, obviously not clear enough the first phone call and reminded him of her address. In just a few short minutes, the call was over and she tucked her phone back in her pocket.

She exhaled, apprehensive of what the rest of her day would look like. Chaotic because of the storm and the power outages while also grappling with her conflicting emotions about where things stand between her and Rio, knowing there were unspoken feelings and worries that needed to be dealt with. “I think you should get dressed, and then we can head to my place, force Teen to make us breakfast while we set up shop in the dining room.” She squeezed Rio’s hand, awaiting a response. Rio nodded, starting to move off the bed but Agatha stopped her with a chaste kiss. Blue eyes boring into brown, Agatha spoke a little softer. “And we can talk more later,” she offered. 

This time, Rio allowed a grin. “I’ll hold you to it.” There was a subtle tease in her tone and it made Agatha feel a little lighter. 

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

****

Within the hour, they’re at Agatha’s house. Teen was already waiting and they brought in the half dozen boxes filling up the back half of his Subaru. In the dining room, Agatha and Rio began re-organizing files and photos where they’d left off while Teen eagerly agreed to show off his culinary skills. He was mildly disappointed when the only breakfast items the kitchen had were bagels and eggs. 

After eating and drinking nearly half a pot of coffee, the trio worked steadily through the morning right into late afternoon. Agatha had fielded calls from nearly everyone at the station, half the town whipped into a frenzy because of the blackouts. 

Turns out, a semi-truck smashed into a transformer on Westview’s outskirts plunging half of town into darkness while the other half was completely functional. It was lucky the hospital was operational because there had been a surge of ER visits. It was an all hands on deck situation, but Agatha demanded her work continue on this case. She’d argued with the Chief about it for the better part of an hour before he finally gave up in defeat. 

The detective was hopeful the storm and its blackouts would be an interruption in the killer’s attacks. A murder at a time like this would send the town, the mayor, and the chief into absolute chaos. With each passing day this case went unsolved, the greater sense of unease Agatha had. She was determined to find this bastard. 

The day wore on, Rio utilized her FBI resources to the best of her ability or outsourced things she wasn’t able to process on her own. She hadn’t expected much of Agatha today after they arrived at her home. She was going to hold Agatha to her word about ‘talking more later’ and though Rio was nervous for this conversation, there had been a few small actions by Agatha that soothed Rio’s worries. 

After breakfast, when Teen was using the bathroom and Rio was rinsing her dishes, Agatha came up behind her quietly. She ran a hand along Rio’s waist as she took the plate from her hand and placed it in the dishwasher. “I got it,” she’d said, giving Rio a small smile. 

Agatha had topped off Rio’s coffee without being asked and considered Rio’s perspective without the usual snarky comment or questioning. Rio had caught Teen giving Agatha a strange look when the detective flat out told Rio, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” 

As the sun set, the stars and moon illuminated more of the city than the electric suburban lights were able to. Agatha was forced to take more calls, now mostly concerns from neighbors and townsfolk alike. People were riled up because of the storm and the blackout, easily spooked into wondering if the killer might take the opportunity to strike. Agatha doubted it because he’d have to be organized to operate these kinds of uncharted waters. Their guy was careful, sure, but he wasn’t organized by the definition of the criminal law. It was the big thing Rio and Agatha had initially agreed upon, and Rio had offered to help field some of the panicked calls after the sixth one. 

Stepping back into the dining room after taking one said call, Rio handed Agatha back her phone. “Mrs. Davis said there was a rumor going around that our guy is the one that smashed the transformer, that he was the semi-truck driver.”

“Who’s Mrs. Davis?” Agatha said. 

Rio cocked her head to the side, in disbelief. “Your next-door neighbor?” 

“Mrs. Hart?”

“Her name is Sharon Davis,” Rio laughed out. “God, you are terrible.”

Agatha shrugged, pressing her lips together to suppress a grin. She could feel Teen’s eyes on them. He’d been oddly quieter than usual. Which was still pretty talkative, and therefore, still pretty annoying. Agatha was ready for him to leave. 

They’d had Thai take out earlier along with a few beers, and despite the steady efficiency in which they reviewed the case, new tips, latest forensic results, and made appointments with potential witnesses for the following day, Agatha felt like they were no closer than the day prior. It was fucking frustrating and between feeling like she was missing something with this case, Teen’s blabbering and these damn phone calls, Agatha had had it. This frustration coiled inside her and she was desperate to release it. 

And, she knew exactly how she’d like to release this tension. 

Rio stood near her now, poking around on her tablet then writing on the large sheets of paper tacked up on Agatha’s dining room wall. Rio had opted to try and see if there was enough information to try and develop a profile for their killer. She was jotting some things down, glancing between the tablet and her writing hand. 

Today, she wore a light brown and white striped button down with chestnut slacks. The warm hues complimented her eyes and brought out the golden tones in her nearly-black hair. The bun she’d put it in sunk low on her neck, hours after it had been tied at her crown. Several strands spilled out of her knot, a couple slipping down into her face. Agatha watched those hairs brush against Rio’s cheek and eyelashes, the agent’s eyelids fluttering. 

The motion was automatic. Agatha saw her hand moving but by the time her brain recognized it, the deed was done. 

Delicately, purposefully, Agatha reached out and with just the tips of her fingers, brushed the hair back to tuck it behind Rio’s ear. The corner of Rio’s lip curled in a smile and a tiny sparkle shone in those dark brown eyes. A recognition, a knowing. She glanced at Agatha's lips before meeting her eyes, just for a moment, then looked over her shoulder. Agatha followed her attention, registering again they were not alone in the room. 

Thankfully, Teen was fully engrossed in his laptop at the kitchen table. His back wasn’t exactly to them, but it didn’t appear the young officer saw anything beyond the screen of his battered computer. 

When their eyes met again, Rio grinned larger and cocked her eyebrow before returning to her work. Agatha swallowed thickly, and knew she’d be counting down the minutes until they could be alone. 

She knew there was a heavy, uncomfortable conversation that needed to be had. In between the chaos of the day, Agatha tried to think about what she and Rio would be saying to one another. She already knew she’d be giving Rio the chance to opt out, citing the logistical reasons of age differences and long distance. Agatha had dabbled in both in previous relationships without great success. 

However, Agatha knew the truth would eventually bubble to the surface. The real reason Rio ought to think twice before pursuing anything more than a one night fling with Agatha: she was a fucking mess. 

When Nicky died, a part of Agatha did too. The part that knew how to love and care, how to forgive and how to be gentle. A blackness existed where this piece of her humanity once lived and all that remained was a miserable, angry, grieving woman. Agatha wasn’t sure if she could love or be loved ever again. 

But, Rio Vidal was fucking relentless. And this enamored as well as fascinated Agatha. It seemed, Rio thought Agatha not only worthy of pursuit, but oftentimes, seemed to delight in it as well. 

Agatha would do as she promised. She would talk with Rio and share as much as she could bear. Histories like hers aren’t often told in one sitting and Agatha didn’t think she had the strength to confess all her fears, but for Rio, she would try. 

The other, more… primal reason Agatha wanted Teen gone and the working day over is because she intended to get Rio naked and in her bed moaning her name as soon as physically possible. Seeing Rio nude the night before was burned into Agatha's memory and therefore, it was difficult not to imagine what lay underneath Rio’s clothes. 

“Well,” Teen says suddenly, his voice snapping Agatha out of a reverie. “My boyfriend’s taking me out to dinner, I guess our power’s out still. I’m going to head out, if that’s okay?”

When Agatha said “Yeah, sure”, Rio had answered with a “Of course”. The trio exchanged odd expressions, Teen’s lip quirking in amusement. Rio broke away, returning to her tablet, fighting to hold a grin back by biting her lip. 

“Rio, did you want a ride?” Teen asks and the air leaks out of the room a little. This… catches them both off guard. 

Rio looks to Agatha, Agatha to Teen then back to Rio. That amused little shit has a sparkle in his eye and Agatha stammers out, “We’re working, I mean going to keep working-“

“The hotel’s power is still out, too,” Rio says, pleasantly neutral, over her shoulder. “Agatha offered her guest room, but thanks anyway. Have fun at dinner.” 

Agatha couldn’t be more grateful for the cool interruption. Her cheeks burn but she hides it by pushing a hand through her hair.“Keep your cell on, yeah?” Teen nods, lips pressed together coyly, and asks if they’d call with any major developments. They agree and Agatha follows Teen through the foyer. He tugs on his jacket, eyes darting from Agatha to the direction of the dining room and back. “What?” She said, immediately annoyed. 

“Just seems like you guys are getting along is all,” Teen comments, his tone cool though his grin remains. “Like, maybe friendly, even.”

Agatha narrows her eyes at him. “Goodbye, Teen.”

He fixes the belt to his waist, shrugging his shoulders. “She’s a good influence on you.” He’s met with a kind of… forced confusion on Agatha’s face, her modest attempt to withhold her true affection for Rio. She was barely ready to share that with Rio, let alone the world. Or, Teen. “Just saying, there’s been a lot of smiling happening here,” he gestures to her face with a pointing finger, “that, like, isn’t always there.” 

Agatha purses her lips, hating to be caught. “Don’t you have a dinner to get to?”

He nods, hands up in surrender as he backs to the door, Agatha stepping after him to ensure his exit. “Correlation? Causation? Who knows, I mean not me, but still-”

“Goodbye, Teen!” Agatha raises her voice over his as she closes the door after him. Bolting it closed and listening until the found of his bootsteps and yammering faded. 

“See? Terrible,” A teasing voice comments from behind her. 

Rio. Finally, just her and Rio. 

Agatha exhales, turning back to find Rio resting against the arched door jam that separates the foyer from the living room. Her shoulders press into the wood, it makes her chest stick out a little and Agatha thinks there’s another button opened loose that wasn’t before.

“Mhmm, I don’t recall you thinking that last night,” Agatha goads. When she does, she’s met with the hot intensity of Rio’s dark eyes. Her breath almost catches when those same dark eyes trace a path down her body and slowly back up. She glances to Agatha’s lips for a second before grinning knowingly. At this moment, Agatha knew Rio would likely be on board for fucking now, talking later. “Besides, if I was nice to him, he’d never leave”.

Finally in front of her target, Agatha is emboldened enough under Rio’s smoldering stare to place firm hands on soft hips. Closer together now, Agatha grins when Rio loops those deliciously toned arms around her neck. “And then, I wouldn’t be able to do the thing I’ve wanted to do since we got here this morning.” 

Rio is amused, enjoying this kind of game much better than their usual cat and mouse. “Which is what?”

Agatha leans forward to whisper in Rio’s ear, “to get you naked in my bed.” She parts her lips over Rio’s skin and sucks it with a soft pop. “So I can find out what you taste like.” 

She hears Rio let free a shaking breath she didn’t realize the agent had been holding. Agatha is pleased to be learning how to press Rio’s buttons, figuring out what exactly she could say to unravel the woman, exactly how to say it. Rio’s cheek brushes against Agatha’s for a moment, cool and smooth, as Rio turns to kiss Agatha. Her hands fall to hold Agatha’s face to hers as she opens her mouth and sweeps her tongue against Agatha’s lips. Immediate access granted, Agatha feels the moan more so than hears it when her tongue slides against Rio’s.

They lose themselves in this kiss. It grows heated. Agatha senses Rio’s hunger, the urgency in which she kisses Agatha. Somehow, Rio has coyly slipped her legs around Agatha and the detective feels her settle some weight onto it. Agatha moves to Rio’s neck, peppering the delicate, earth-scented skin with dedicated, plush kisses. Rio softens under Agatha’s touch, groaning when the detective flexes her thigh against Rio’s center. Agatha’s so lost in this moment, she almost opts to drop to her knees and take Rio against the wall. Thankfully, Rio reminds her of her earlier proposal. “Harkness,” Rio drags the syllables out, almost whining, “Stop teasing me.”

Agatha reluctantly removes her mouth from near Rio’s collarbone and chuckles. Rio wears a forced pout and Agatha rolls her eyes. “Alright,” she gives in, because that’s what happens when Rio is around. Agatha can’t help but give in. “Come on.” 

She runs a hand through her semi-tangled hair and starts for the stairs. As she broaches the first landing, a familiar, creeping sensation stirs in her stomach. The memory of pained interruptions followed by feelings of guilt and shame start to eek in. It causes Agatha’s footing to halt, just for half a second, but Rio must sense it. Though before the tendrils of unease can fully unravel, Agatha feels a sharp pinch on her ass and flinches, turning to Rio. The woman on the step below her flashes her a playful smile. It brings Agatha to the present. Her lips quirks in gratitude and she pulls Rio along. 

Rio notices Agatha’s bedroom door is already open. She wonders if Agatha left it open on purpose, to minimize another accidental interruption. Rio is relieved, though she’s also dedicated to the silent promise she made herself - she’d never enter Nicky’s room unless Agatha invited her. 

Inside the bedroom, they fall instep with one another, kissing while hurried fingers try to undo stubborn buttons. After what feels like an agonizingly long time, they’ve both managed to remove their shirts and Agatha kicks off her remaining pant leg. 

“You don’t need me to tell you,” Agatha whispers against Rio’s neck. “But, you’re fucking gorgeous.” She feels the vibration in Rio’s throat when the woman laughs. 

“I don’t need it,” Rio says confidently, “but, that doesn’t mean I don’t like hearing you say it.” 

“I’ll be sure to tell you more often then,” Agatha kisses down until her mouth is between Rio’s soft breasts. They fit in her palm perfectly. When Agatha brushes her lips and tongue against the edge of the fabric covering Rio’s chest, the woman shivers beneath her kiss. 

Rio can feel Agatha smiling against her skin and it’s a sensation she doesn’t think she’ll ever get over. 

Agatha Harkness is happy. 

It’s such a rare, beautiful sight and it makes Rio’s eyes sting a little but she can’t ruin the moment right now. She cups her hands around Agatha’s jaw, guiding her back to Rio’s lips for a few deep, languid kisses until Agatha parts them. 

She stares into Rio’s eyes, the stormy grey more prominent in spite of the diminished lighting. Muffled flashes illuminate their nearly nude figures for microseconds, then washes them in shadow. Rio reaches behind her back to unclip her bra. Shrugging out of it, Rio tosses it aside. “Will you turn around?” Rio asks, her voice like warm honey. 

Agatha listens, turning so she faces her headboard. She immediately senses Rio behind her, and inhales steadily. Rio unclasps her bra and slips it from Agatha’s frame. Rio doesn’t waste a second, pressing her chest into Agatha’s cool back. The detective feels a rush of warmth at the contact, sighing heavily. Rio’s arms reach around Agatha, hugging her for a moment and then moving her hair to one side, pressing her soft lips to Agatha’s freckled shoulder. 

“I think you’re beautiful too,” Rio says against Agatha’s skin. The detective lets out a sound in protest, but Rio squeezes her silent. “You’re never gonna change my mind so just roll with it Harkness.” 

The corner of Agatha’s lip quirks up, amused. “I don’t give in too easily, you should know that.” 

Rio hums, acknowledging this truth. “Sure,” she says, trailing her right hand down Agatha’s stomach, over her belly button, “but, I find it hard to believe you’re not interested in receiving my compliments.” Her fingers dip into the waistband of Agatha’s maroon underwear. She tickles the trimmed hair there, nuzzling into Agatha’s neck. In response, the detective’s head falls back against Rio’s shoulder, the agent reaching further to gently stroke her clit. “For instance, how fucking hot you look when you’re enjoying my touch.” Agatha groans when Rio presses firmly. She begins to make small, teasing circles as she goads Agatha. “Last night, between your thighs, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone sexier.” 

“Oh, please,” Agatha fights but whimpers when Rio pauses for a moment, before continuing. Agatha groans again when Rio uses her fingers to part Agatha before she strokes up her center. 

“I meant it, when I said I’ve thought about you a lot,” Rio admits, exhaling hotly against Agatha’s neck. The older woman only arches against Rio’s body, running her own hand over the one Rio has cupping her breast. “What you’d feel like, naked and moaning my name when I make you come.” 

Agatha’s breath shudders, Rio rubs her clit again, her fingertips slick this time. “Who’s the tease now?” She dares. 

Rio’s chuckle is raspy. She palms Agatha’s breast, feeling the delightful sensation of the detective’s nipple pebbled in her hand. “Wanna take these off then?” She pulls her hand from Agatha’s underwear and then pulls the fabric down. Not waiting another moment, Agatha frees herself with a little kick, the underwear discarded amongst the other clothing. 

Turning, she catches Rio’s hands before they can push hers off too. “Let me,” Agatha asks. Something inside her melts. Rio’s eyes dance with desire and delight, and she tries to hold back a smirk. Agatha sits on the edge of her bed, guiding Rio to stand in front of her. She kisses each of Rio’s hips, her touch now tender and sweet. She kisses where the edge of the mesh underwear meets the top of Rio’s inner thigh. She shivers with Agatha’s caress, wandering hands admiring the sculpture of Rio’s legs. One last little tease, Agatha kisses Rio’s center through the fabric — it being so thin, Rio gasps a little at the heat of her lips. Rio wonders if she should admit to Agatha how often she’d dreamt of Agatha’s mouth on her, licking and sucking her into oblivion. But she doesn’t get a chance to confess, because soon Agatha’s mouth is on bare skin and her underwear drapes across her toes. She steps out of them, careful not to disturb the path Agatha creates with her open-mouthed kisses. Her tongue is hot, strong and wet and Rio is eager, so fucking eager, to have that wicked mouth against her core. 

She senses her wish will be granted when Agatha grabs Rio by the ass and brings her even closer. Because of their modest height difference, Agatha still needs to dip her head down to reach her target. But, the angle doesn’t deter her and the detective is all too willing to do whatever she needs to get Rio to be the one writhing beneath her touch. The moment she touches the tip of her tongue to Rio’s clit, she’s completely done in. 

She licks Rio, the bud firm and slippery under her tongue’s movement. Rio lets out a throaty moan, her hands sinking into Agatha’s hair. Agatha presses the flat of her tongue upwards, then suckles and repeats this in what she knows is a dangerously slow pace. 

Rio’s not sure how she’s still standing, perhaps because if she buckled, it would only interrupt the moment. She can’t help but fist in hands in Agatha’s locks, the detective finding a rhythm with her mouth that makes Rio's stomach do flips. The intensity of the moment begins to build — first an ember, but it’s growing, igniting Rio’s insides on fire. Rio is panting as she cants her hips towards Agatha’s face, desperate to get closer, to get her lover deeper. 

Agatha senses Rio’s close to finishing, but doesn’t want to be done with her yet. She forces herself away, her lips and chin damp and she is mildly out of breath. “Lay down,” Agatha directs, her tone like gravel, her throat thick and she swallows. She still tastes Rio, the sweet tang of her riding Agatha’s tongue almost completely over the edge. 

Rio doesn’t question direction and does as she’s told. The intermittent lightning flashes are still the only sources of light, and in these, Agatha steals glimpses of Rio. The younger woman, perched on her elbows, her gaze dark and mouth parted. Maintaining eye contact with Agatha, despite the darkness, Rio bends her knees a little and exhales a whimper as she feels her tenderness open up to Agatha. “Fuck,” she croaks when Agatha grips her by the thighs and pulls her ass to the edge of the bed. Her breath catches when Agatha is between her thighs yet again, fixing her legs to dangle over the detective’s shoulders. “Oh, fuck me,” Rio draws out, collapsing to the bed, unable to support herself further. 

“Gladly,” Agatha chuckles, then uses her tongue to act as she promised and really get a good taste of Rio. She thinks she’ll never actually get enough of Rio, her taste, her scent, the way she sounds and how she feels. Agatha is in disbelief she had the capacity- no, the gall, to try and live life without ever fucking or being fucked by Rio fucking Vidal. 

“Agatha,” Rio gasps, a hand finding itself in brunette tangles again. “Keep going… oh, fuck,” her words are cut off because they catch in her throat as the orgasm she’d been building up to comes back, coiling her insides taut. Rio couldn’t utter another intelligible word as a heated orgasm rolls up from her core and her thighs clench against Agatha’s cheeks. 

As if fueled by Rio’s cries of pleasure, Agatha maintains her pace until Rio’s legs cool to a tremble and her fist loosens its grip on her scalp. Rio makes delicate little hums as she adjusts her hips so they rest on the edge of the bed. Her eyes remain closed though she reaches blindly in the air for Agatha. The detective wipes her forearm across her mouth, panting more heavily now. Her knees ached but seeing Rio blissed out in her bed was so fucking worth it. She joins Rio at her side, lying on her back as Rio does. 

Their breathing regulates, easing and Rio blinks her eyes open. It’s so dark, she turns towards Agatha but can barely make out the details of her naked form. She reaches, her hand brushing Agatha’s side. 

Not expecting the touch, Agatha lets out a startled yelp and then they both laugh, the thunder outside cracking sharply in the air. Lightning soon follows and Rio moves in, propping up on her elbow and using her free hand to draw Agatha in for a kiss. “You’re really fucking good at that,” Rio smiles. 

”I know,” Agatha says with a shit-eating grin. 

Rio knows Agatha can’t see her roll her eyes, but she knows Agatha can sense it when she chuckles a reply. “So cocky, detective.” 

“Isn’t that what you like?” Agatha goads in an attempt to banish the blush from her cheeks. She faces Rio now, her eyes adjusted enough to see Rio a little better. 

Rio leans in but doesn’t let their lips touch. She just wants to be closer when she tells Agatha, “I like a lot of things about you, sweetheart.” She gives Agatha a quick peck to the corner of her mouth. When she does, she realizes Agatha is trying to fight a smile. Rio accepts the challenge. 

She rolls them over, straddling Agatha’s waist and sits up. Her eyes have adjusted better to the darkness, and she can better appreciate Agatha’s nude form. Her hair splays out like spilled ink, arms resting at her sides so she can keep her palms on Rio’s bent thighs. Her tits part some, losing their cleavage but not their appeal. Rio bites the inside of her cheek as she notices the shadowed center of her breasts, her nipples still peaked. Rio will be sure to show her appreciation shortly. She settles into her seat, just above Agatha’s belly button, feeling her center connect with warm skin. She’s damp, and she grins at the small sound of delight Agatha makes at the contact. 

“I like your ass in a pair of tight jeans,” Rio draws out, lightly grinding down. Agatha’s stomach flexes and another noise punctuates the air along with a rumble of thunder. “I like that little crease,” Rio reaches up to brush a finger between Agatha’s eyebrows, “You get here when you’re working on something.” She trails her finger down Agatha’s face, over her lips and hovers there for a moment. “I like when you kiss me, hard, after finally giving in,” Rio says, her voice lower with every confession. With a gentle press of her finger, Agatha’s lips part and she takes Rio’s finger, closing her lips around it. Rio’s finger is tickled by Agatha’s roving tongue and Rio bites her bottom lip in amusement. When she takes back her finger, she leans back, unable to stop the soft moan from escaping her own mouth as her center comes into contact with Agatha’s abdomen again. She feels so fucking good beneath me, Rio thinks. Reaching back, she swipes her slick finger up Agatha’s core. The woman shivers beneath her, groaning and flexing her hips. “But, maybe most of all,” Rio whispers as she strokes Agatha up and down. “I really like making you come.” She curls her finger at Agatha’s entrance and the detective lets out a shuddering breath. When Rio dips the tip of her finger just inside, Agatha’s whimpering sounds are eager, desperate maybe. 

Agatha grips Rio’s thighs, her teeth grit but manages to say, “Just- ah,” Rio pushes deeper. She groans, “Rio, just fuck me already-“

“How about a plea-“

“Please!” Agatha whines, grinding into Rio’s hand. “Please,” she says, lower this time. 

Agatha Harkness nearly begging to be fucked? An electric shock vibrates through Rio and she knows Agatha senses how excited it makes her when the agent moves down to straddle her thigh instead. She grinds onto Agatha’s thigh, continuing to tease the woman’s cunt with deft fingers. She luxuriates in how much Agatha wants this, how slick and hot she is for Rio; the way she moans and writhes with Rio’s touch, the firmness of her clit under her thumb. The agent wasn’t lying when she said Agatha was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen. 

Pushing two fingers deep into Agatha, Rio presses up toward Agatha’s belly button, and the woman lets out a slew of expletives, becoming more intelligible when Rio draws those fingers almost completely out, then gently plunges them back in. Rio’s turned on by the way in which Agatha reacts to this - sinks her hips toward Rio, tenses her thigh muscles against Rio’s core. She wants more, Rio knows. And the agent is more than willing to give it to her. 

Bending forward to support her weight on her forearm, she is able to kiss the plane of Agatha’s stomach where it meets her rib cage. At this angle, one of Rio’s preferred sex positions for rocking a woman’s world, she increases her speed. Finding her rhythm (and the spot that made Agatha whine when she curls to stroke there), Rio rests her head against the spot she had been kissing to focus her efforts on her handiwork. She’s warmed over when Agatha’s hand holds her head, fingers laced in the hair at her temple. She feels Agatha’s abdominals clench and her rasping cries catch midair as Agatha’s climax begins. Rio’s muscles burn at the repetitive motion, but nothing would free her from feeling the delicious squeeze of Agatha, both around her fingers and against her scalp, Agatha’s fingertips pressing into her skin. She tries to say Rio’s name as she finishes, but it gets trapped within a groan and her noises turn to satisfied hums. 

After enjoying several minutes of post-sex bliss, the two rearrange themselves and get beneath the plush bed covers. Rio resumes her previous spot, tucking her backside into Agatha’s chest, sighing with content as the detective slides her hand up the plane of Rio’s stomach to cup her breast. Agatha kisses Rio where her neck and shoulder meet. “Do you want to sleep?” Agatha whispers. 

Rio turns her head a little, stroking the back of Agatha’s hand. “If you’re tired, we can.” 

“I’m always tired,” Agatha sighs. She kisses Rio’s shoulder again. “But, I don’t want you to think I'm trying to weasel outta this.” There’s a beat of silence and it’s lost on Rio until Agatha clarifies, “Talking about us- our- I don’t know… figuring out whatever this… thing is.” 

Rio thinks. It’s hard to want to interrupt the peace of lying nude in Agatha’s arms, yet, a forthcoming Agatha Harkness was too tempting and rare to be passed up. Truthfully, Rio was dying to hear what else Agatha had to say, about her, about them- what even were they? Of course, that was the biggest question of all. 

Rio reaches sideways and flicks the bedside lamp on. They both squint though it’s on the dimmest setting. She apologizes for the rude awakening, but tells the detective this isn’t a conversation for darkness. “Besides, I can better appreciate you in the light,” Rio grins, trying to ease Agatha’s anxieties. 

Agatha’s cheeks tinge pink and she pulls the sheet over her chest. “God, you’re just reveling in this aren’t you?” 

Rio scoots a little closer, hugging a pillow beneath her chin. Not wanting to give Agatha any reason to push her away, Rio shakes her head and offers a friendly, toothy grin. “A little bit, yes,” she says, “but, mostly if you have something you want to say, I want to hear it.” 

On her back, Agatha stares at the ceiling and mindlessly rubs the spot on her chest, above where her heart beats nervously. She steels her emotions and inhales slowly before exhaling and turning to look at her lover. 

Rio.

Sweet, beautiful Rio. She lingers over the younger woman’s features — her round, natural pout. The almost unnoticeable gap between her two front teeth. The rounded tip of her nose and the complex expressiveness of those chocolatey brown eyes.

Many years ago, all the air got sucked out of Agatha’s lungs — her entire world had been altered forever. But, when Rio gazes at her like this, caught somewhere between amusement and adoration, the air comes whooshing back. Her laugh and touch and care stirs something deep within Agatha the detective thought was long since dead. 

She reaches to brush a strand of hair from sticking to Rio’s eyelash. Rio takes her hand and kisses it gently. This tender gesture makes Agatha’s heart squeeze. 

“Are you sure?” Agatha asks, her voice a little hoarse. “Are you really sure you want to do this, Rio?” 

“I’m sure,” Rio asserts. She laces their fingers together. She frowns a little. “And I know you’re not sure but-“

Agatha turns on her side to completely face Rio. “I’m scared,” she confesses. Her throat is dry and she swallows. “That there’s… there’s too many reasons this could fail-“ at this, Agatha sits up and rests her back against the headboard. She rubs her brow, urging tears to stay at bay. “Rio, I’ve never been good at this kind of thing- I’ve dated and been married and divorced and I can’t seem to be able to crack the code on how to be a fucking decent enough human being to someone else.” 

Rio rises to a seated position, holding the pillow in her lap. There’s a faint fear awakening - the nervous kind that Agatha is going to slip away again. Rio wonders if this would ever subside. She rubs Agatha’s thigh through the sheet. “I don’t care that you’ve been divorced,” Rio soothes. “Divorces happen and people are usually better for it.” Agatha peers up. She’s not crying but Rio can tell she wants to. Her blue eyes sparkle with unshed tears. Rio captures her hand again. “You are decent, more than, I’d say, even if you’re a jerk here and there.” Rio smiles kindly, squeezing the other woman’s hand. “But, who isn’t?” Unfortunately, it's not enough to quell the worry in Agatha’s expression. 

She holds Agatha’s hand in hers. “I know there’s a hundred reasons you’ve come up with, to make this seem like it’s not going to work,” Rio starts. Her tone is firm but rounded to soothe the edges. “Tell me and I’ll tell you why you’re wrong.”

”You love telling me I’m wrong,” Agatha offers, a quirk of her lip. 

Rio nods proudly. “That’s very true. So, go on, give me a reason why we shouldn’t be together. A real reason too,” Rio warns, quickly adding, “don’t give me that ‘I’m too old for you’ shit.” 

“That’s a valid reason!” Agatha tries. She knew the agent wouldn’t be having it, however, Agatha felt it was worth bringing up. “I’m going to be fifty in five months.” Rio remains unmoved. “I could throw my shoe and hit menopause, that’s how close she is to me,” Agatha holds up her fingers a short distance apart.

Rio hums in an exaggerated display of deep thought. “We can… celebrate your fiftieth in the Florida Keys - my friend has a timeshare,” she tells Agatha with a satisfied smirk. “And, the majority of women I work with are perimenopausal, I think I can navigate the occasional hot flash well enough.” Agatha glares, not so cordial in the face of her second defeat. “So, bullshit reason. Next?”

“You live in Quantico, I’m in Westview,” Agatha tries, arching a brow. It was the next practical reason they shouldn’t be together though Agatha felt she’d be unsuccessful in deploying this as a reason Rio would give up her romantic pursuits. “That’s a seven hour train ride.”

“Five if by car, and one if by air,” Rio chimes in, kissing Agatha’s hand, still sandwiched between her own. “I get great travel miles,” she informs happily. 

“Rio,” Agatha says, her tone losing its edge, softening at the tips. “You know there’s more. It’s so much more complicated than just the distance.” She tucks a piece of hair behind Rio’s ear. 

“Then, tell me,” Rio says, her eyes searching, nearly pleading. “Tell me what you’re so afraid of so we can figure it out - together.” She states the last word with such reverence, it makes Agatha’s heart ache. “Agatha,” Rio says her name with something so close to love, her protective walls crack open further. “I’ll keep saying it if you need me to — I’m into you, okay? And if you’ll give me a chance, I’d really like to date you.” 

She’s so earnest in her truths, it makes Agatha’s eyes begin to well, her hand trembles despite the security of Rio’s hold. “I-I haven’t done this,” she gestures with her other hand between them, “since my son…” she trails off, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Since before Nicky died. Once I got pregnant with him, I just… didn’t need anyone else.” 

She wiggles out of Rio’s grip to use the sheet to dab at her stinging eyes. “I just didn’t feel so alone anymore, or so lost. Like, I’d finally found the thing I was meant to do,” she sniffles, crossing her arms. Agatha’s eyes fall closed as she tries to center herself, her right hand resting on her chest. After a couple breaths, she feels herself being pulled into a pair of lean-muscled arms. Rio shifts to sit closer to Agatha and pulls the woman into her chest. 

Unable to hold back any further, she covers her eyes with a hand. She lets out a soft cry, “I couldn’t protect my son.” Rio’s grip on her tightens. “I couldn’t save him… And that- that broke something in me, an-and some days I think I will never be whole again.” 

She’d never admitted it out loud before. Tears fall from her eyes freely now, though she tries to tell herself not to care. To let Rio see the real mess that was Agatha Harkness. She inhales a weary breath and turns in Rio’s arms so she can face her. Her cheeks are sticky with half dried trails of tears and her eyes are probably puffy, making her look ages older, but Rio never once shies away. 

Rio wipes at Agatha’s cheeks with the pads of her thumbs, her own eyes glistening with tears teetering on the rim. “I’ve never really felt very whole either,” Rio says, her attempts for a reassuring grin coupled with a quivering chin. “But, maybe together… we could try to be?” She looks so fucking hopeful. “We can just try.” She kisses Agatha’s cheek. “And go as slow as we need.”