i sleep in ash tonight.

the only reason she’d taken the secretary job was because seamstressing alone just wasn’t making her the money she’d needed recently to cover her father’s in-home care. frankly, she’d been entirely surprised they’d even given her the job, considering her youth and inexperience. especially because it wasn’t just some dental office secretary job—this was a major company in washington state, with white collar men walking in the doors every day. the tasks were basic, pretty menial actually, but it paid well—well enough to ignore the inappropriate flirtations from men twice her age. 

she hadn’t meant to go back into the office that night. but she’d accidentally left her wallet in her small locker inside, so the minute she realized she turned right around to go back. the first red flag should have been that the night guard wasn’t there at the front desk like he usually was. but he could have been in the bathroom for all she knew, and the only thing on her mind was her wallet. when she entered the office space and saw light coming from a back office, that should have been the second red flag. but maybe the cleaning crew was there already. she went to the locker to get her wallet—but as she was coming out, she was then aware of voices. they grew louder, ANGRIER, men arguing in the room, it seemed. 

bee should have just walked right out. but she couldn’t help but sneak over to the room to listen in, confused and concerned. she didn’t really understand much of what was going on, but she did hear something about ‘offshore accounts’, and some other things she was certain she wasn’t meant to hear. then, a violent and loud sound made her jump where she hid. a physical struggle, something happening—and then horrifying gargling and choking sounds. bee was frozen on the spot, too terrified to look. but she forced herself to peek, and that was when she saw one of her bosses with his hands around one of his colleague’s throat. the male underneath him wasn’t moving at all.

she lost her balance. catching herself, she made a scuffling sound. by the time he glanced toward the door, bee had whipped away and around the corner, running out as fast as her feet would take her. she was lucky to make it out alive, but she couldn’t say for certain if the man had or hadn’t seen her. either way, she couldn’t just go home. she went straight to the police, and what ensued from there was almost too much to handle. of course, her boss was discovered trying to dump the body—but as police dug into the case, they discovered it went far beyond murder. bee had somehow gotten entangled in a murder with a heaping side of white collar crime. now her own life was in danger with what she knew and being a key witness in the coming trial. 

and that was why she was here now, somewhere in the forest-y countryside of washington in what they had informed her was a ‘safehouse’. it was an oddly spacious place, though on the old-fashioned side decor wise, but she sat curled into herself on the edge of the bed upstairs, nervous and uncomfortable. she was worried about her father who, due to his condition and level of care needed, had been best left at home with his nurse and around the clock police protection. bee, being the main concern, was in this safehouse all alone. but it frightened her to think of these men, whoever they were, trying to get to her through her father. yet there was nothing she could do except trust that they would be okay and the trial proceedings would be quick and the men would be sent to prison for their crimes.

someone knocked on the bedroom door, and bee looked up. “come in,” she said softly, her voice still warm but tinged with worry.

@hcmoheart​

usually it was a man that came up to her with no respect whatsoever. yes, they’d know their stuff and what cherie was capable of and whatnot, but were they actually interested in recruiting her? she couldn’t say they did. there was disinterest in their eyes that made cherie just as uninterested in her reply when she brushed them off. told them off, to not approach her a second time, as their time would be wasted. a lecture after a lecture it felt like. but this woman, however… cleo findlay, she had a different approach. one that came off as less formal. perhaps not formal, rather less stuck-up like most men were. she wasn’t meant to favor colleagues over another, but women had always been her preference. in any way. they made work more interesting as much as crime. they managed to outsmart the best of investigators if they wanted to. the amount of interesting women she’d run into were countless, in comparison to the opposite gender.

‘‘guarantee? what’s next, a pinky promise?’‘ who humored her, could receive dry humor in return. it silently amused her, though cherie had a hard time laughing when it came to strangers. she could open herself up, among the right people, among those who’d known her for quite a while. those same people knew cherie wasn’t the same anymore as she’d been years ago. her peak had only gone downhill. triggers that had been suppressed ever since she was twenty years old resurfaced, rather quicker and more painful than intended. than she mentally could handle, which reflected in her field work. 

‘‘golf course? if you’ve seen me there, considering you’ve kept an eye out for me these days, i recommend getting a pair of glasses. there’s more blonde, blue eyed bitches roaming the earth.’‘ aside from the hundreds of lives she got offered to save, it was nothing any other professionals couldn’t handle. why her? if this lady knew so much about her, she surely would know agents wouldn’t be put on early retirement for any soft reasons. ‘‘look,’‘ she eyed her purse for a second, returning to the well put together woman a moment later, ‘‘i’m willing to hear you out, but i can’t make any promises.’‘ meaning she was interested, but afraid to disappoint in the end.

"i’ve always been more of a ‘cross my heart and hope to die’ type gal, but you know, to each their own,” the scotswoman joked in return, glad to see cherie had a sense of humor. still, she was a bit stiff, clearly reading cleo and the situation further in her head. cleo had hardly gone into this expecting an easy ‘yes,’ but when god had put persistence in her, she was given a double dose. 

cleo gave a small, breath of a chuckle at cherie’s next remark, hanging her head forward, her short locks sliding forward along her jaw. “that is true, though none quite like you, i imagine, miss fryzell.” she looked back up, her hazel-brown eyes curiously scrutinizing the woman she’d read quite a bit on, but whose presence amounted to something else entirely than what a few simple pieces of paper might convey. “i don’t need any promises, just a cracked door,” cleo smiled, sliding her hands in her pockets. she allowed the woman to collect her things before they set off. 

—

cleo thanked the waitress after they were brought their drinks in the small cafe, appreciating the intoxicating scent rising from her hot coffee. she added cream, no sugar, before taking a sip. 

“so, i suppose i’ll get straight into it then,” cleo said after swallowing the first hot sip. “a few weeks ago, french law enforcement hacked into an end-to-end encrypted communications network called encrochat. for a while we’ve known that organised crime syndicates all across europe have been using this network to share plans for drug and weapons deals...” she lowered her voice. “as well as murder plots.” her gaze was quite solemn as she said this, and she took another sip of her coffee before continuing. “we were just never able to break in, you see, ‘til now. and now it’s like... sitting at the table with criminals while they chat. a little sickening, actually.” she ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her face. 

“currently, we’re looking at hundreds of suspects across the eu,” cleo admitted. “it’s going to be a hefty job, for multiple organizations. the nca is obviously working on what information we’ve got on local plots, and it’s still quite a number. but we’ve got to handle it all so delicately, because if any of these crime barons or their lackeys even get a whiff that something is off... we’re fucked. pardon my french.” she sat back in her seat, shoulders slumping slightly. “as one of the leads on this operation, i’ve been looking into the best options for handling the situation at the level of stealth we need. the slightest slip-up can cost hundreds of lives—so, i’ve realized that we’ll need to lean heavily on undercover support... and that’s where you come in.”

cleo bit her lip, eyeing the blonde keenly for a minute. “i know your retirement wasn’t your decision. i don’t know all the details, but i know that much.” maybe she was curious, but she wouldn’t outright ask for more info. she didn’t need to cause offense and send cherie running in the other direction. "honestly, whatever it was, it still doesn’t strike out your record. and it’s quite the record, i have to say.” she inhaled deeply, leaning forward. her hands joined together, resting on the edge of the table. “i’m not asking you to go into the field, especially if the circumstances around your early retirement would urge against it. but at the very least i could use your help behind the scenes, so to speak—to make sure we don’t fuck ourselves over. i need the absolute best on my side for this, miss fryzell, and i still think you’re one of them.”

as furious xenia was, she didn’t feel a single thing of the shivering her body went through. the cold it’d caught from walking outside in the pouring rain, her hair clung to the sides of her face, to her neck. her neck where veins were popping, where vocal chords aggressively made themselves show if possible. if her body allowed her to, her eyes would be flashing a crimson hue darkness vividly at this very moment, if not darker. she would be steaming, like an awoken dragon, ready to spew flames and burn everything in sight over the loss of something precious. a dear one, a piece of herself, even. something xenia would never admit out loud, over her dead body would she show weakness. she’d rather kill herself than talk about her own damn fucking feelings.

not moving an inch, jaw clenched and ready to snap and lock in place like a pitbull would, she stood there, trembling from the cold. not even blinking as she kept her eyes locked on her wife, hands balling into fists. the kind that left marks in the inside of her palms by how fierce her grip was, leaving knuckles turned as pale as her face was. words left her wife’s lips in a tone that bothered xenia all the worse, words she didn’t quite capture as they flew by her. words she didn’t want to hear, as the redhead was fuming. panting from gritting teeth, clenched jaw and trembling lips. it was a sight for sore eyes, her attitude included. but in xenia’s defense, she had never been this triggered into feeling this kind of anger in a long while. 

she saw drew’s figure shift, the way her neck tensed, a string snapped in her chest at how she’d gotten her fuming, too. not saying a single thing in reply, all she could do was watch her wife. watch her lips become less agitated as her voice hushed to a lower volume. one that would run a chill down xenia’s spine if she already wasn’t feeling those from the lack of warmth she was experiencing. a warmth she was supposed to feel from how close she was in proximity to her wife, inches apart. so close she could smell her breath, feel the warmth radiate off her body if it wasn’t for the fact they both spent outside quite a while. xenia couldn’t believe a word she said, or rather didn’t want to believe a word she said. the close to hysterical laugh drew gave made xenia’s eye squint in reply. her hands unclenched, fingers tensed into claws, ready to slash if necessary in self defense. a physical form of defense xenia had never thought of using, she was brilliant with mental manipulation, not the physical kind. and up until this day, she never hoped to use her body for protection. for what drew was about to do, for what she’d never seen coming.

it was the sudden and unexpected kiss that made the redhead almost growl like an animal, eyes still wide open, her hands quickly found her wife’s shoulders to push her off. not even registering what just happened, she started shouting. ‘’you’re fucking crazy, you know that!? fucking crazy! don’t even pretend like you give a fucking damn about me, you fucking hag. i shall show you hell if that’s what you’re asking for —!’’

a halt came in her speech when her freezing brain finally came to realize everything drew had just said to her. like it’d been stuck at the part drew clarified about her feelings and everything that came along with how stuck-up xenia was in showing any. her anger faltering to a softness xenia never would’ve been prepared for, she was still panting. eyes moving to her freckled hands on drew’s shoulders, back to her eyes that were dedicated to the act she’d just attacked her with. there was no violence, only in the form of sex. a form they never acted upon or even remotely cared for between one another … now suddenly turned into the biggest craving both longed for and xenia couldn’t bear another second staring at her wife. gripping her shoulders to pull her back in, she kissed her without hesitation this time. no words, just deeds. the kind that brought her anger to a turning point, a weakness she never imagined sharing with drew. not in a million years and here she was… kissing her like her life depended on it. pulling her closer and closer until it became impossible to get closer.

when xenia pushed her away, drew realized what a fucking stupid move it had been very quickly. she wasn’t entirely sure she could explain what had come over her in that moment if asked, but it was too late to take back. she clenched her fists at her side, swallowing hard as xenia unleashed a torrent of insults directly at her face. drew couldn’t say a single word, and didn’t think she should, letting xenia process everything on her own. she waited patiently, jaw set and chest heaving as she regained all the air that had been sucked out of her at the feeling of her lips on xenia’s. then, suddenly, xenia cut herself off and was utterly silent, staring wild-eyed at drew. drew was still stuck, unsure of what to say or do, and she dropped her gaze, suddenly actually nervous. she NEVER felt nervous, not ever. but she did then. it honestly scared her for a minute. 

when she did look back up into xenia’s eyes, the redhead pulled her in with equal forcefulness as she’d pushed her away, kissing drew like her lips were a delicious liquor she needed more of. it took a millisecond for drew’s instincts to kick in—after all, this sort of thing wasn’t muscle memory for her like it might be for most other spouses. what other couples had become so comfortable doing with each other, drew and xenia had never even once before humored the idea of. their first and only kiss had been at their wedding, and that had been out of necessity. but that... that little peck was nothing compared to the way xenia was kissing her now, her tongue slipping past drew’s lips and tasting every inch, impatient and yearning. drew felt a searing heat coiling in her abdomen as their bodies crushed against each other, and she gripped her fingers roughly within xenia’s bright red locks. she smelled like alcohol and perfume and fresh rain, and drew was driven by a new and desperate desire to smell even more of her, taste and touch more than ever before. 

drew reached up to tug the woman’s wet coat off her shoulders, letting it fall on the floor in a heap. her hands slid up xenia’s warm neck while her lips moved to the woman’s sharp jaw, sliding along the skin indecisively. she couldn’t decide where to kiss or touch, it was entirely overwhelming. she settled finally on the furthest reach of her jaw, where it connected near her ear, and pressed her mouth there. whispering while so near xenia’s ear, drew murmured, “you need to get out of these wet clothes... you’ll catch your death.” well, that was one reason to get her stripped down, though hardly the main one on drew’s mind.

OPEN TO ‣‣ females & non binary ! CONNECTIONS ‣‣ could be a friend, a regular, someone lost that got stalked or … well, go nuts !

‘‘next time you think of entering a women only bar, you’ll lose more than just your dignity. i’ll make it my main quest to make sure you won’t be able to procreate any offspring, your kind should go extinct for my part, now fuck off before i change my mind.’’ selina kicked the unwelcome guest from her club out the backdoor into the back alley, right into the collected bags of trash for a soft blow before hitting the front of her boot right where it would hurt. making sure the guy felt her anger she kept bottled up for too long. returning back inside where she found the other at her bar, the blonde’s fierce gaze somewhat softened. ‘’he won’t be able to fuck for a while, not even walk. these are steel boots,’’ pointing at her platform boots, they made her look taller and served good purpose for kicking unwanted customers out the door. ‘’are you okay, though? want a drink? it’s on the house.’’

vivian had thoroughly enjoyed every second of the encounter she’d witnessed after stepping into the bar that evening, a VICIOUS gleam in her eye as she watched selina mercilessly rid the establishment of a truly repulsive character. long, slender legs on tall pumps carried vivian gracefully over to the bar where she sat down. whilst waiting for selina to finish her business, the blonde reached into her pocketbook for a cigarette, lighting it without so much as a nervous glance. technically it wasn’t allowed, but who would dare tell her she couldn’t? especially considering her own business was tied to selina’s, giving her a slight level of authority even in this space ( as was given to selina in the business next door ). their girls knew not to question either woman. 

when selina returned, vivian tapped the ashy end of her cigarette into an empty bowl on the bar counter. her red lips pulled into a smirk when selina showed off her boots, the woman thoroughly satisfied in what she’d done. “have i told you how it gives me goosebumps to see you punish men with such ruthlessness?” voice velvety and tinged with what slight accent remained from her days in the upper echelons of victorian society, there was utter sincerity in what she said. not much pleased her more than to see men put in their place, or rather, below it, as society afforded them a position higher than women for all the most wicked reasons. 

“i’m wonderful, darling, as ALWAYS. i only thought i might grace you with my delightful company for a little while.” she bared her bright white teeth in a smile, dropping her butt into a nearly empty glass. “though i will most certainly take a drink. pull out your best, you know i take nothing less.” she also knew selina already knew as much, and would pour her a vodka martini without much second thought. not that alcohol had much affect on her, but she still enjoyed the taste. "how is your evening going, aside from your little pest?”

somewhere between the lines of put on indefinite leave and a tour around europe she was meant to find herself. fabir didn’t have to say the words, but she was excellent at reading facial expressions, the desperation that lingered in one’s eyes that made cherie mentally gag when she was the non-specified subject. many colleagues she’d seen leave the office with a honored pat on the back, the kind that deserved their well earned retirement. cherie wasn’t one of them. no, her assigned psychiatrist had put her down as unfit to work in the field. a decision cherie could only agree with in defeat, though she’d scream in protest if she could. if she had some kind of say in it all. but she had not, and return home was no option for the blonde. face her family she could not. not even after twenty years and counting. there was no home for her there, no place she could settle down and wait out her time to be either called back or written off entirely.

so, there she was, facing a class full of such naïve faces. surely, there were a handful facing her with a look she recognized all too well, but cherie’s soul had been through more than them by what life had thrown into her face. as she led them through chapter after chapter, the kind she’d rehearsed so well in her head long before she held her first lecture, she kept their attention so well attended. one of her many social skills, say the right words at the right time, keep her target distracted, or in this case targets. the kind she was only meant to teach, not study, stalk, fight, persuade or arrest. ‘’and with that said, it’s only fair to close this epilogue with what i’ve worded many times the past two hours: work hard, and you’ll be rewarded with fidelity, bravery and integrity.’’  

applause filled the dark room that slowly lit up as the lights went back on at the same time as the whiteboard moved back into the ceiling. ‘’it’s been an honor to be here at the university of oxford, maybe i’ll face you again sometime in the future. may it be among safe conditions, may you find in life what you desire the most. thank you all dearly!’’ as she retreated from behind the microphone, she collected her notes to move them back in her purse. watched the students leave the room collectively from the corner of her eye, but one single figure. a fellow woman she’d spotted right away, without giving anything away during her lecture. she wasn’t surprised, the stranger’s visit was nothing new. just the face, that was all.

‘‘if this is what i think it is — you’re not the first and yes, i’m not interested. there’s nothing that can change my mind,’‘ hesitating for a split second to add the fact she’s unfit, unable to set foot in the field, she decided to end her sentence there. wait for what cleo findlay possibly had to say.

“not even if i say pretty please?” the scotswoman couldn’t help but quip, eyeing the blonde with an amused glint in her eyes. only a second after it came out, she sunk her hands deeper into her pockets, inhaling deeply and pressing her lips together in a firm line. maybe save the dry humor for AFTER you get her on your side, cleo. it’s not doing you any favours now. if she wanted get cherie fryzell to even consider hearing her out, she’d have to make this irresistible compared to all previous offers. not many would consider serious organized crime investigating ‘irresistible’, but then, people like cleo and cherie were a different breed. cleo was willing to put down money that before retirement, cherie had lived and breathed the job same as she. her stellar record further backed that theory, as she’d clearly put in a lot of dedication to accomplish all that she had during her time with the fbi.

“i know i’m not the first,” cleo started again, this time with more sobriety. “but i can GUARANTEE you what i’m looking at right now is bigger than anything anyone else has approached you about.” she crossed her arms over her chest, no more humor in her eyes now. “this is a europe-wide investigation, with the potential to save hundreds of lives.” she stopped there, not giving away too much just yet. what she needed was to just draw the woman in enough to then give her more time to state her full case. it was hard to tell just yet how well it was working, but personally if someone had told cleo she could save hundreds of lives—she wouldn’t have hesitated to ask for more details. but then, cleo hadn’t experienced a retired life, and maybe that was more appealing than working yourself into the ground just to hope at least one criminal would end up behind bars. 

“now, i know you’re probably itching to get to the golf course, or whatever it is you retired folk do for fun.” she injected a little dry humor again, not wanting to come off too solemn either. “but i was hoping you would at least give me the chance to give you more details over coffee. if you’re still not convinced, then at the very least you get a free coffee, right?” she tilted her head to the side, awaiting ( and hoping for ) a positive response. 

traffic had been nothing else but horrible. the whole roadtrip from boston to jacksonville she spent her time going in and out of road rage trips she could only narrow down to an early mid life crisis she was experiencing. there’d been lots of plans in belinda’s future, but moving from boston to jacksonville hadn’t been. her goodbye at blanchard memorial school had been sudden, and on top of that very rapid. forced, almost. if it wasn’t for the principal being besties with her mother in law who was principal of an elementary school in jacksonville. a town she and her husband had avoided vividly for the past five years. never had the blonde actually met the woman eye to eye, but word was that she was the biggest bitch of them all. mainly said from time to time by her husband. words, however, he was no longer able to speak. not because he didn’t want to, simply because he no longer was able to. 

as she moved her way into school, she heaved a sigh that wasn’t any louder than the heels that clicked in the abandoned hallways of the building. it was an early morning, still belinda was about twelve minutes late if it wasn’t for the accident she came across on the way. a week off wasn’t enough in belinda’s opinion, in all honesty she never wanted to face the woman that had just become her new boss. she’d rather stay at the shitty motel, though she preferred a cleaner environment. opening the door, that led to the principal’s office, that had been left on an impatient crack for the blonde to enter, it was her supposedly mother in law and a redhead she faced. 

@allourwonder​

LOUISA was not used to being present when the principal greeted a new teacher at whitehouse elementary in her own private office. but this was an exceptional case, as she had discovered when principal ambrose had asked to speak with her in private just a few days ago. at first, louisa had been terrified that she was about to be laid off—she ran through everything she’d done up until that point in her mind, trying to figure out what it was she could have done wrong. she couldn’t think of a single thing, but she was still terrified anyway. not that her financial stability would be called into question if she was fired; she had enough money to last her her entire life ( even after many charitable donations from the obscene fortune her family had left her ). but she had grown incredibly fond of her class of 5th graders, who were on the precipice of the woes of puberty but still naive and sweet enough that she could handle them without issue. the thought of losing them made her heart ache. 

however, she was thrown quite off guard when principal ambrose, rather than firing her, informed her she had asked to speak to her about providing temporary housing for a new teacher transferring to whitehouse. due to the sudden nature of the transfer, arranging housing would be extremely difficult, and it was known that louisa had AMPLE room in her home for a guest. principal ambrose said it all with much more subtlety than that, but louisa understood quite simply what was not just being asked of her, but somewhat expected. thankfully, the redhead was naturally rather generous and could only imagine how difficult it would be to uproot one’s entire life to move somewhere new and have nowhere to go. without much reluctance, louisa agreed with the arrangement and it was settled. she couldn’t help but wonder about who this stranger was that would soon be inhabiting her own home.

and now, it seemed, she was to finally find out. she was a bit nervous in the principal’s office, the headmistress’s intimidating aura unable to be shrugged off. she itched the back of her neck for the second time in a matter of minutes, her skin prickling from the nerves. the door finally opened, and in stepped her new roommate. the woman was blonde and neatly dressed, appearing at least a decade louisa’s senior. she was also very pretty, with poignant features... arched brows, a fine nose, and a lovely contour under her cheekbones. however, what louisa mainly noticed after all that was that the woman appeared a bit cross—but maybe the traveling had just left her weary, the redhead reasoned. 

principal ambrose greeted the woman first. “you’re late,” she remarked with a feigned intrigue about it that made it seem as if she were simply taking note of something, but really she was judging you really hard for it. louisa had gotten used to that tone. to make up for it, louisa offered the woman a tiny, awkward smile. the principal said a few more things while louisa zoned out slightly, eyes examining the blonde. she did hear a name in there, somehow—belinda. very old-fashioned and yet entirely romantic.

“... AND this is ms. hart, the teacher you’ll be staying with until more appropriate housing comes along.”

cherie was a retired fbi agent, with extensive experience working undercover, as cleo’s research had informed her. she stood out amongst many of her american peers from the fbi, and luckily happened to remain in europe, traveling for lectures. cleo was working as a leading investigator on a serious organised crime case which spanned across several european countries, including the uk. french law enforcement had managed to hack an encrypted communications system that criminals had been using to organize their trafficking and share other sinister plots. now... it was up to nca officials to pick them off, but it would take a careful and methodical approach. all it took was one of them to catch wind that something was afoot, and they’d all go running. cleo couldn’t let that happen, so she was going to someone she hoped would be willing to help her. 

she entered the dark lecture hall, plopping in a back seat of the auditorium to watch cherie wrap up her lecture. she analyzed the woman as best she could considering. she was tall, and appeared slender even in her suit. she had a level voice, but it didn’t come off domineering or self-important. even from where cleo sat, she could see cherie was a fine-looking woman. not that that mattered much for what she needed cherie for. before she knew it, the lights had come back on and the ‘students’ were filing out of the room. cleo took the opportunity to get up and walk down to the podium calmly, her hands in her trouser pockets. 

“miss fryzell,” she greeted, stopping near the other woman. she then flashed her nca badge, not making a big deal of it. “senior investigating officer cleo findlay. i wondered if you might have a moment to chat.”

it was more than bullshit for xenia having to attend an aa meeting. she called it bullshit the first time the doctor mentioned it under his breath, again when her wife made a note of it and now she actually attended one it felt like a therapy session she never asked for. amongst people she didn’t even know or cared about knowing about their private lives, they had no right to know what was happening in xenia’s life or mind. and for drew to throw it out just like that, a private matter that should’ve remained private, made the redhead as furious as her hair color. a deep hue of crimson covered her usual pale skin, her blood boiling, she felt like throwing plates. 

xenia was maybe obsessed with alcohol, but she was one to hold her liquor down. her anger issues had nothing to do with how she’d react when she had one too many drinks. her anger came from life. the way her parents threw her aside. turned her own sister into a puppet for her father’s company and when she was thrown into an arranged wedding she couldn’t handle, she’d rather offed herself than do anything her parents signed her up for. so xenia was the one who had to cover all tracks, suck everything up and live with what she was given. so yes, she had every right to be pissed. no single ounce of love, mental support or explanation as to why she couldn’t just live her actual happy life in canada. as a journalist, not part of a bloody marriage that acquired for the redhead to no longer follow her career she had built for herself, by herself and worked her fucking ass off for day in day out. to be wedded off by the cowards that were her own parents. who only cared about their own asses and money. so yes, she was furious.

jaws clenched, her eyes would see red if human bodies were capable of doing so. she did not just say that. the ex journalist halted in her tracks, hand on the verge of resting on the railing that led upwards. xenia wasn’t one to scream, she was awfully calm. cold when she needed to be. always so calculated in her body language. traits she perfected over the years, learned at home. at school. at college and then the life of a journalist she entered and barely got to set foot into. 

‘‘i don’t get to tell my own wife that she can go fuck herself?’‘ xenia started out, back still turned towards the brunette. ‘‘hold on, let me get this right.’‘ pausing for a second, she took a harsh breath. her body language was anything but pretty when she turned around, strands of wet hair remained dripping on the floor as much as the thunder rumbled through the sky above them. ‘‘if i recall correctly, we’ve taken official vows in the church. it wasn’t just me who said, ‘i, xenia, take you, drew, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to god’s holy law, in the presence of god i make this vow.’ it was you who stated that promise as much in my fucking face in front of the priest. there’s no single word in there that says you’re allowed permission to blurt out my history to a bunch of strangers. you’re in deep fucking shit if any of those people run their mouth past that meeting.’‘ taken steps forward, she clearly wasn’t ready to end the conversation there yet. ‘‘it’s clear all i am to you is a fucking burden, i don’t see the problem as to why i shouldn’t just go and empty a few bottles into my liver right fucking now. maybe that’ll help you with your problem that is clearly me. it’ll solve all your fucking problems once i’m gone. one thing less to worry about.’‘ ridden by anything but sanity, her neck was as tense as it could be, words spilled from her mouth and continued to keep spilling. ‘‘you know what — it would’ve been better if you weren’t here at all. so i can go and end myself in my own fucking misery, drink until i’m unable to even remember i have parents. a deceased sister. a wife.’‘

drew stared, stockstill, as xenia unleashed her fury on her. it wasn’t entirely uncalled for, but drew wasn’t thinking totally logically in the moment. rather, blood pumped hotly in her veins, all the way up to her face, making her hot and irritable. made all the worse by knowing that she was technically in the wrong, but she hated to admit that. especially when what she had done, though impulsive and maybe hurtful in the moment, had a seed of good intention sown within. xenia never talked about ANYTHING she was feeling. while drew had her own unhealthy coping habits, drinking to numb herself and stop from acting out on her moods, sometimes it terrified her how xenia could keep it all sealed in. she’d be surprisingly calm and cold while a storm raged within that no one knew about. and the only time it came out was in drunken brawls, in a moment like this ( which didn’t happen often ). how long could it go on like that? before she destroyed herself entirely... both of them, even. 

drew pursed her lips together hard, shaking in her swirl of violent and conflicting emotions. “well FUCK, xenia, someone has to say it! since you clearly never will! you never talk about any of the shit that’s burdening you, and i know it’s burdening you, it has been for years! it’s why you drink yourself to near-death, why you stay out all night and start fights... but you just—you keep it all bottled up until it explodes in the worst way! instead of just fucking talking about it, about what’s really bothering you—” drew scoffed, but it was an exhausted, desperate sound more than angry. they’d both known going into this marriage that it was more of a business transaction than anything else. but drew never could have imagined that, at some point, she’d actually start to be concerned for xenia’s well-being, worried about her mental health and the unhealthy habits that seemed like they might just kill her one of these days. and she didn’t want to show it when xenia didn’t want it, wouldn’t reciprocate it, but in a moment like this it was waiting to reveal itself. it was why she pushed for xenia to get help, why she attended stupid AA with her wife—why she brought up her sister, why she was even bothering to engage in this fight. 

leslie liked to make her presence known in any bar she stepped into and she did that by slamming her helmet on the mahogany, getting eyes to focus right on her. it was an immediate threat, an invitation or icebreaker. it really depended on what type was eyeing her. the guys who followed her inside surely must’ve gotten the hint now she wouldn’t mind getting a throat punch or two in. followed by one between the legs, right where it hurts the most. no gender excluded from said pain. anyone who was a bitch to her was no exclusion, no karen would be left out or get special treatment.

‘‘troubles? i haven’t even gotten started yet,’‘ but damn did she appreciate a woman recognizing the shit most of them went through. and she wasn’t gonna say no to a free drink. though it wasn’t gonna stay the only drink she’d down tonight. as the bartender picked up the brunette’s order, she briefly scanned his posture to see if he’d be one that dealt with heavy scenarios or rather cowered away when fights happened. leslie easily picked people apart and knew exactly who to approach for jobs and whatnot. eyeing the stranger next in the dimly lit spot, she felt goosebumps form underneath the thickness of her motorbike jacket. chills that went down her spine for a sec, like a cold winter night. except it was anything but winter in the desert. she knew like no other that the trouble she brought inside the bar wouldn’t leave until either she would leave too, or did something about it. and having caught the bartender’s silent treatment, he surely wasn’t gonna do shit to the no brainers that shamelessly took place next to either side of the blonde. ‘‘i don’t know about you, but figuring you catch my thrift, i got an itch to clear those troubles.’‘ she downed the drink in one go, put the glass down with one and grabbed her helmet smoothly with the other to land it against the nearest troublemaker’s temple.

nick peered curiously at the woman beside her at her final comment, a ripple of intrigue flowing through her, and before she could even offer a response, said woman was slamming her biker helmet into one of the heads from which a catcall had come. the male’s head bounced away and back from the impact, and then he lost his balance entirely and his chair tipped over, slamming him into the bar floor. nick had to clamp her lips together hard from spitting out the large gulp of beer she’d just taken, equal parts amused and in shocked awe at the blonde’s bravada. GODDAMN. 

she glanced around the bar to see most of its patrons were staring at the scene, and some men seemed to be rethinking their entire lives. good. nick could see that while at first sal had also been in shock at the fact the blonde had opted for the violent route in dealing with the assholes at the bar, now he was pissed. he quit his bartending, speaking angrily, “hey, there’s no fucking fighting at my bar! what do you think you’re doing?” nick rolled her eyes, leaning forward.