Beauty is a Knife

     “Noted.” Sexy Cinderellas – she’d have to check them out later. Showing no desire to conceal it, Ava looked Aoife up and down, brows furrowed and lips parted thoughtfully. “Are you some sort of ghost?” The reference flew right over her head; either way, she’d congratulate the other on looking absolutely stunning. 

     “Ah. A woman with taste!” She would save the other the disgust of hearing how many people had confused her costume for something completely different. Granted, it wasn’t as bad as the previous year where the beret had thrown most people off, but it wasn’t a lot better either. “He’s ‘round here somwhere,” a hand waved vaguely in the air to motion to the entire rest of the party. “I meant – do you dance with me?” Question sealed with a sip of her drink through her short straw.

Aoife had known when she had been painting her face in the bathroom that it would have been a miracle for her to get recognized.  Her costume was a character from an obscure book, for a crowd who was most likely to be intoxicated. But with her sword and sunglasses, Aoife felt hot for once. It made her stand a little taller to notice the other checking her out. “Book Character. Sexy Goth Knight”  Aoife gave in lieu of a long explanation. She knew it wasn’t what the other person was wanting.

When faced with a choice, Aoife paused slightly. Taking a moment to think as she chugged the rest of her beer. Setting it on a nearby flat surface that Aoife was sure she’d have to clean later. Letting her eyes very noticeably roll over Ava. The words Puck had said about loosening up echoing in in the back of her head. “I think for someone with such a good movie, I can dance. “  Aoife answered with a slight smirk.

“Aoife?” Well he almost hadn’t recognized her outside of their usual environment which was Central Park. He’d never met her outside of the Park’s borders and certainly not outside of her work out clothes. The same could be said for him. She’d never seen him wearing anything but his range of med school worn out tee shirts and shorts combo. He dressed differently at work, and although he didn’t carry his lab coat out with him, he still very much wore the rest of his work clothes, including that lingering smell that came with being around chemicals and dead bodies all day long.

“There wasn’t much to hear,” he smiled, taking a moment to look at her. “Sorry, I’m just realizing you don’t always wear trainers and leggings.” It almost felt like running into your 1st grade teacher outside of school and realizing they didn’t live in the school or, worse even, that they were married with kids.

Aoife knew the smell of death both fresh and old, an unfortunate side effect of her previous occupation. This time it was buried under the chemicals that come from the aftermath of dealing with a dead body, and Aoife could tell it was clinging to the edges of Jonah. To be honest it unnerved her slightly. Jonah had been filed under safety in her brain. The friendly Jogger she would pass on her runs. Sometimes they would stop and make small talk. It made her feel safer in the city that she could be seen as a normal person. A fixture in the hustle and bustle. Reconciling that sweaty man with the put together one in front of her caused a bit more cognitive dissonance than she was prepared to deal with for the evening

Aoife forced a slight chuckle out shaking her head. “Sorry, even having been in America a couple years it still amazes me how big and small it can be at the same time” Aoife said trying to cover her own shock and the moment it took her to respond. She was also dressed from coming off a shift, her chef's apron hanging with her bag off the back of her chair. “ It’s almost like we’re real human beings,” She joked. “Are you here by yourself?”

“Ayy, you’re a belle among belles,” she complimented as she set down the menu and picked up her tea to take a sip. It wasn’t lost on her that she had chosen a table with a beautiful woman sitting alone. She was always going to take her shot and flirt a little, what was the harm? Sure, she may get rejected, but in the grand scheme of things – it wasn’t like she was going to be stateside forever. Her CO may say that she had to play nice and work at setting up a new program in the hospital, but she would eventually be pulled back into the muck of military medicine. 

And Michal wasn’t going to let a challenge go unanswered. “If we’re talking like that - then how about my place on Thursday after dinner?” she asked before she laughed and shook her head. “Except, I don’t have a place. I’m in a hostel until I set myself up somewhere. The government doesn’t really care where I land as long as I’m not drunk or stoned within a month of my next deployment – so government assistance to find a place to live isn’t really a thing they were game to do.” 

An item on the menu caught her attention, some sandwich that had what looked bacon and sausage on something that could be a roll or – “is this sandwich on a glazed donut?” she asked, turning the menu around as her attention shifted somewhere else. “Right here,” she pointed to the item. “Three eggs, cheese, sausage and bacon on a homemade glazed donut. Holy hot damn, glad I’m fighting for the right for diabetes and heart disease.” 

---

A flush spread across Aoifes cheek, the tinge of pink brought out by the compliments Michal offered. She had been the one to start the flirting, but she honestly hadn’t expected to get this far. It was like, what had Puck called it, the online meme with the children's cartoon character. Aoife tilted her head to the side and offered a small sly smile, drawing upon old skills she had once possessed that were now covered in cobwebs. “Luckily, I live by myself in a nice apartment which sounds like it might be a bit better to get to know each other in.If that's what you want to do”  The start of a confident flirtation tailed off slightly at the end as Aoife started to second guess herself. “I also have a dog” Aoife offered at the end of her statement.

Her eyebrows furrowed as she gave further thought to the woman's statement about housing. “Wait, the American government sent you here yet they don't provide good shelter?” her Irish lilt highlighting the fact that she did not consider it her government.  Granted Aoife never really cared about governments, but the idea that they would demand so much but wouldn’t ever provide something like an apartment rubbed her the wrong way. “Granted I guess that amount of freedom can be nice” Aoife tried to tamper her negative emotions. It wouldn’t do any good to start the whole Europe vs American debate with this pretty women. 

Aoife couldn’t help the fact that her nose wrinkled as her table-mate read from the menu. Subconsciously she started leaning forward to take a glance at the item in question herself. “I think technically it's both which makes it an abomination especially at that price point” Aoife tried to joke, trying to hide the fact her stomach rolled slightly at the idea of the combination of those flavors. Food was the highlight of her days Aoife believed she had earned her right to be picky with it.“Speaking of my apartment, I happen to moonlight as a chef occasionally. Let me cook you dinner. I promise it'll be better than anything you've probably had at that Hostel.”  Aoife said settling back in her chair. “Or at least better than a donuts sandwich”

Puck felt the tension slowly start to melt out of Aoife’s shoulders and internally gave themself a high five. The chef always seemed tense whenever she bumped into her, or purposefully sought her out in the kitchen at work. “I feel like I should be offended by your surprise” she joked, mock offended. She wasn’t sure why Aoife was always so tense, assumed it was something to do with her life before in Ireland. They didn’t push the issue, but always made an effort to try and make the Irish chef smile or laugh while she made puppy eyes and tried to get some food. “I am, it’s not my favorite show. I’m a bit more of a fan of whimsy and highjinks than greedy murderous men. But the actors are great so I’m not complaining”

Aoife could see Puck mentally congratulating themselves and rolled her eyes slightly. “You are drunk and it takes more than a little dedication to have it memorized. “ Aoife tried to backtrack. She didn’t mean to offend Puck. Puck was one of the few close friend Aoife managed to make as a civilian, and didn’t mean to insult that. The line between light tease and something more mean spirited was so thin and Aoife was worried she had crossed it be accident. Aoife started to braid the end of her hair  mindlessly, as she talked. “I know what you mind. My dad showed me Shakespeare first, and he stuck mostly towards the comedy side of things. These types… just arn’t as comforting” Aoife finished. She meant to say felt to familiar, but that was a hard statement to reason through for someone who knew nothing of her previous life. “You here with some friends or…?” Aoife trailed off.

Puck had the decency to attempt to look apologetic, though the result was more that of a kicked puppy. Reluctantly she removed her arm from around Aoifie as they realized they had actually succeeded in startling the chef. Something she hadn’t realized was possible. She hung her head in mock shame at the mention of Luanne, scuffing their shoe in the dirt. “I guess I just didn’t realize you could be scared, you’re always so steady in the kitchen.”

Taking a step back they swept into an over dramatic bow before putting on their most theatrical British accent and reciting with a cocky grin. “If we shadows have offended, Think but this, and all is mended: That you have but slumbered here While these visions did appear. And this weak and idle theme, No more yielding but a dream, Gentles, do not reprehend.” They gave pause for a moment before sweeping back in and wrapping their arm back around Aoife’s waist this time. “It’s practically a legal obligation for me to attend a show. Besides, like you said my mama raised me right, and she made sure if I had a name like Puck I was going to be able to recite the lines.”

Laughter peeled from Aoifes lips at the elaborate display from the bartender. Aoife wasn’t an outspoken person herself. She liked to stick to the shadows, having someone so close who glowed like the sun was different. “I have to say I’m impressed. “ Aoife remarked. Forcing her body to relax under Pucks touch. Even after years of leaving the ‘Business’ it was strange to have people just causally touch her. The familiar smell of old spice and beer flowing off Puck however soon washing over Aoife and made her honestly relax.  “You were raised right, can’t fault your mother for that.” Aoife mused. “So how are you enjoying the show?” Small talk. Aoife Wasn’t good at it. Normally with Puck she had a little bit off a buffer with the food and the kitchen. Now there was no buffer, no spoon to shove into Pucks face to say taste this. It was just the two of them. Fuck.

❛ WE’LL SURVIVE. ❜ She punctuated her words with a good-natured pat on the dog’s back. ❛ You would have a great alibi. No one suspects that daughter on the other side of the world. ❜ The topic was one Danny rather considered, instances of her considering the opinions of others being few and far in between. If she did, there was a strong chance her career wouldn’t be what it was. ❛ I think it depends. Trying to be the greatest of all time? Overrated. To be great at what you do? That’s different. ❜ She pushed a hand through her hair, shoulder lifting in a noncommittal shrug. ❛ At the end of the day, it’s all relative, right? Not worth falling over yourself trying to line up with what someone else thinks. ❜ Maybe that’s why she could count her friends on one hand.

Relief flowed through Aoifes body at the knowledge that both the other party and the dog were okay. A laugh even managed to work its way through her lips as she thought about her parents. Aoife knew that even if she tried, chances were both her mom and dad would kick her ass.  “I’d need that element of surprise, my parents are both tough old bastards,” Aoife said while pushing her hair behind her ear.  “I’ll give you that. Person growth is something worth striving for.” Aoife looked over her shoulder back towards the stage. “I just found in my personal experience, its worth more to be able to look at the ones you love in the eye than to be great. But like you said its all relative to what people value” Aoife said with a shrug. She had been great but that had cost her the most precious thing in her life. “I’ve been talking your ear off, I apologize. “

MALCOLM: What does honor mean to you?

DESDEMONA: Do you believe that the truth will set you free?

“Aoife…” she repeated, the name had a beauty to it that Samira liked. She would have to work hard not to be taken by a pretty face, hard to do when Samira felt starved for the gentle touch of another. The warm smile the other gave her was better than any bouquet or gift. All she wanted was kindness. “Maeve…” she repeated, as she tended to do when there was a name she wanted to remember. 

Her smile faded before she forced herself to catch it by the corners and extend upwards again. It wasn’t a genuine smile any longer, but one she put on to help her get through a difficult conversation. She’d be able to find her smile again when she no longer was lying. “I couldn’t get a dog. I travel too much with my husband - he’s a filmmaker, and we’re always going wherever the wind blows us. Though…” Samira hated to lie, and she wasn’t very good at it. “We’re mostly settled in NY now as professors… so I’m not sure how good that excuse is now,” she said. She peeled apart her sandwich to remove the cucumbers. She’d just eat the bread - a little carb-rebellion. “The last pet I had was a little lovebird. I was young and stupid and didn’t know that you should get them in pairs, it had been a wedding gift. I was devastated when she died – I don’t know if I could open my heart to that heartbreak again… you know?” So, instead she pivoted. 

“I could always stop by when Maeve is out - or if you ever need a back-up dog walker.” As though volunteering herself to a near-stranger was the day-to-day way of things. “And your contribution is better than warm cucumber sandwiches.” 

Aoife liked the way Samira said her name, a smile came unburdened to her face. It reminded her of a simpler time in her life when she was happy, without all the burdens of mistakes weighing down every shadowed corner in her mind. However it was those shadows that allowed Aoife to see when the cheerful demeanor of the women in front of her faltered. Aoife instantly was aware of the subject matter. A husband. Aoife tilted her head as she pondered Samiras words. She remembered being married as the greatest joy of her life, it was such a shame when that wasn’t the case for everyone. Aoife tucked the piece of information away in the back of her mind. The park and shakespeare was a time and place for happiness. Aoife felt the need to repay the women for the brief reminder of a more joyful time in her life. “You are more than welcome to visit me and Maeve anytime then. “ Aoife made the offer, deciding not to push the subject. 

Aoife reached out and gently touch Samira shoulder, offering a gentle comforting hand. “You didn’t know any-better. And if it was a gift its not your fault. Sometimes accidents happen” she expressed softly. Aoife gave the women's shoulder a gentle squeeze. Before clearing her throat and letting her hand fall away. “If you think those cookies are good  you should come over for dinner some time. I’m much better with cooking than I am baking. I always find it hard to cook for  for just myself anyways, so really you would be doing me a favor honestly.” Aoife extended an offer with a smile. Extending the offer to just Samira. The unspoken offer of a sanctuary if she so wanted to take Aoife up on it.