#big empty

“Agnes.”

Vidal wants to hold her lover's name like a gem in her hands. It's too rare and important to not speak out loud and into existence.

Agnes doesn't look her way as she opens the passenger door and gets inside. She pays attention to the paper in her hand; the copy of her mother’s will.

Had all that really happened in the span of maybe thirty minutes? Had her whole life before Vidal rear its ugly head and explode into their existence?

Did Vidal even trust her anymore? Did she even know who she was?

Agnes is too afraid to ask these questions that sizzle in her brain like a bad sunburn.

 She hadn’t told Vidal about anything. Not her name or about Nicky or about Alice.

Not because Agnes had secrets and lies to keep but because she didn’t know how to let that pain wash over her again. She had all dealt with it once; stuffed it down so far her given name became meaningless and her son was buried at Westview cemetery and her ex had moved on with her life in Eastview.

“We’re going home now, ok? Agnes?”

Vidal’s voice seemed so far away despite being shorter than at arm’s length. Agnes wanted so badly to open her mouth and speak and explain and apologize but she had nothing. She was just that scared little nineteen year old girl, a couple weeks pregnant with nowhere to go and a new name to call herself.

Silence filled the car until Vidal reaches over and digs around in Agnes’ coat pocket. The detective doesn’t move, barely even flinches as she hears the jangle of her keys as Vidal starts up the truck and backs up with surely the dirt from the road beneath kicking up from how fast she was going.

There was no reason to linger here any longer than they already had.

“We are not going back to that house. You are not going back to that house,”

Vidal’s voice roars over the screeching tires and the dirt that flies up and hits the side of the truck; pieces of stone and wood and god knows what else hitting the windows. She moves with lightning speed until they’re back on paved road and Vidal finally lets go of a breath she’s been holding as she gets her bearings on the little suburb of Eastview that has some form of slight redemption as a place to settle down.

Agnes feels her body like a weight, like a stone. She can feel the muscles in her legs against the seat of the car. Her hands folded in her lap like lead. She can barely hold her head up; resting it backwards instead. Her vision unfocuses on the road back before them. How many times has she traveled there? She knew it like the back of her hand.

“Agatha didn’t suit me anymore…it was something my mother gave me and, at some point, I didn’t want what she had to give…it always came with a price.”

Vidal looks over instantly at the Will in Agnes’ hand and wonders why she took that. Why would she take anything given to her by that woman? Sure, money and property were one thing to argue but to go back there and put yourself in that environment again…

“Agnes…”

“Then I got knocked up and packed up my shit and threw it in my truck and left. I would have died if I stayed there. So that’s that, I guess…”

That sinking, leaded feeling had shifted from Agnes to Vidal. She wanted to pull over and stop the car. Thoughts and feelings; images flashed through the younger woman’s mind. She could see Agnes so clearly; this young woman running away from that house. Scared out of her mind; a new name. A baby.

She was a mother. She had a child.

Vidal glances at Agnes’ face this time and tries to read her. She’s exhausted beyond anything else and she knows she has so much more she wants to ask Agnes.

Where was that baby now? They would have been in their mid 20s by now. Maybe they left too. Maybe it wasn’t on bad terms.

“...So, you moved to Westview?”

Vidal’s voice is small as she continues to drive. Everything around her now seems to move by in a blur. The houses and lawns and cars; mailboxes and garbage bins all seem to look like the same thing. Her world had been flipped on its head in a matter of moments.

Did this change the way she felt towards Agnes? Did this change the way she felt towards their relationship?

No.

Vidal finally settles in her seat; her shoulders dropping as she gives way to the defensiveness she’s been holding onto. She can’t stop thinking about how she reached for her gun however. That feeling of danger was so present she wondered if Agnes had felt that way all her life there.

Agatha. Agnes. Needing to escape her childhood home and her mother. Needing to escape the edges of Eastview.

“Actually, I stayed in Eastview for a little while…I…met someone.”

“Oh,”

Vidal provides without meaning to push Agnes into the conversation. She doesn’t need to know the whole story. That wasn’t the point. Agnes’ past wasn’t something she dwelled on or worried over. She trusted Agnes fully and where she had come from to get her here was not something Vidal was going to challenge or beat out of her.

‘It was the first time in my life I felt like me. I felt like myself…who I was supposed to be all those years. But…”

“But?”

Agnes sighs as she shrugs her shoulders and turns her head to look out the passenger window. Vidal almost doesn’t hear her as she speaks towards the glass.

“You know what they say about a good thing…”

That leaden feeling fills Vidal up again and drops like a ton of bricks. More despair. More bad news. Has this woman ever caught a break in her life?

She wants to keep asking Agnes everything; every little question that pops into her mind. Was it a bad breakup? Did she have to run from that place too? What about her kid? Did they not see eye to eye in having to take care of a baby?

It’s then Vidal realizes she’s holding back a sob as she wipes at her eyes. She’s trying so hard to focus on the road and driving them back home. She wonders if Agnes has noticed the change in her; fierce to barely being able to hold it together.

How the fuck is Agnes even able to hold it all together?

Silence stretches between them until Agnes reaches for the radio. She only turns it up a tiny bit; barely even background noise. She can’t focus on the music that’s playing and she can faintly make out what song is on.

“I had help in the first five years…help in, I was with someone who helped me raise my son and make me feel, I don’t know…understood? Loved? There was a lot of stuff I still didn’t understand about myself,”

Agnes turns her face slightly away from the window so Vidal can make out her words. These were sentences she didn’t feel much like repeating.

‘Son’ sticks to Vidal’s mind like glue. A son. Agnes has a little boy. The instant rush of warmth spreads in Vidal’s chest like a bloom.

“...and then I was alone again.”

“Agnes?”

“He died and Alice left for school and I was stuck here in Eastview trying to figure out what to do with the rest of my life.”

Vidal doesn’t bother turning on her signal to pull over at the side of the road. Her hands grip the steering wheel; white-knuckled as she tries to hold on. She’s the one who feels like she’s going to float away meanwhile Agnes sits in her seat comfortably; her head almost resting against the window.

Her name. Her mother. That awful fucking house. Her son. Agnes’ son who…who’s dead. Had died. Alice.

Alice?

“You…you don’t mean, Alice Wu-Gulliver do you, Babe?”

If Vidal hadn’t been looking at the back of Agnes’ head, she would have missed the nod of confirmation.

The silence breaks as Vidal laughs something short; like a bark before it turns into a choked sobbed.

She had many thoughts running through her head. How badly she wanted to fight for Agnes on her behalf. How badly she wanted to comfort her; treat her with every inch of respect she rarely got in her personal life. Hell, even her job was hard on her. Vidal wasn’t blind to the way some officers and detectives; different levels within treated her. Agnes had to create a hard shell around herself to survive.

Vidal grips the steering wheel and allows the one thought to push through all the others.

She wanted to treat Agnes the right way, properly. She wanted to get them home and throw Agnes down onto their bed. She wanted to rip all of her clothes off and fuck her until they were far too exhausted to even lift a finger.

“I’m sorry.”

And Vidal wants to break again.

Agnes is staring at her now; trying to read her partner’s face. She can see the white around her knuckles and the blood rushing down to the tip of her fingers. She can hear the engine running as they sit in park and wait for the emotions to pass. She’s sorry because this is not how she thought she would have to share her life with the woman she loves.

She’s sorry because she can’t go back.

“Agnes. Don’t.”

Vidal signals this time as she takes off the break and moves them back onto the road. The car fills with silence again except for the escalation in the gas peddle as Vidal keeps her foot heavy. Agnes doesn’t say anything about the speed limit or how fast Vidal is going.

Something had shifted right then and there in the car the further they got away from Eastview and that goddamn house Vidal was certain was filled with nothing but evil intentions.

Agnes relaxed once more against her seat and kept her eyes forwards on the road before them. She was silent but not in an awkward way; calculating. Vidal could hear her thinking. She knew the detective was trying to get her story straight and it broke Vidal’s heart to know that Agnes felt like she had to disclose everything about her life before in a forty five minute car ride.

“I’m getting you home, Agnes…”

Vidal whispered under her breath as she reached over to put her left hand on Agnes’ thigh. There was a moment of hesitation but Agnes eventually melted into the touch; welcomed it. Vidal heard the older woman sigh under her breath.

Agnes can feel Vidal’s fingers spread against her leg, trying to cover more ground as she moves her hand up and down. Vidal’s eyes are on the road ahead of her but Agnes can tell her mind is elsewhere, just like her own. Agnes bites her lip and settles into the feeling of being touched. Of being loved.

Agnes makes the decision quickly as her hands come up to unbutton her pants. She doesn’t know if Vidal sees her from the corner of her eye but she leaves it that way, a simple invitation as they get closer to Westview.

“You aren’t tired, are you?”

“No.”

Vidal nods her head at Agnes’ answer. She knows what her partner wants and needs after something so emotionally straining. She wants to block out the rest of the world and fall into Vidal. She wants to be reminded that she is loved and desired; heard and seen in everything that makes her Agnes.

Vidal’s hand on her partner’s thigh moves up until her fingers play with the edge of the waistband of Agnes’ jeans. She fingers the button for a moment or two before her hand sinks down; fingers spreading outwards to reach underneath Agnes’ boxers.

The detective melts once more in her seat. She tries to bring her legs together to keep Vidal’s hand exactly where it is. They’ve done this before, many times, switching who was in the driver’s and who was in the passenger. Both knew they could drive perfectly well with one hand on the wheel.

The drive felt longer going home but maybe that was due to Agnes’ trying to keep her wits about her. She sunk further and further into Vidal’s touch and the gentle little whisperings that fell from her mouth. Tiny little praises that Agnes could barely even hear over the pleasure that was building up within her. It always felt like she was underwater; sounds were muffled but she could still hear something.

Vidal’s fingers were soaked.

“Almost there, Baby…just one more turn…”

Agnes’ left hand moves to hold Vidal’s wrist. She doesn’t want her pulling out just yet; clenching around her fingers to keep them exactly where they are. Between curling and scissoring them as much as she possibly could, Agnes felt like she could barely hold on. Sure, she had many orgasms by Vidal in her truck and she had dealt just as many out to her partner but this was another level of desperation.

Desperate to get away.

Desperate to get home.

Desperate to fold and break under Vidal’s touch.

It was time to take Agnes home.

They can see their home come into view as Vidal makes the final turn up the road. Sighing in relief, Vidal slows down as she reaches the driveway. She was always taken aback by the trees that seemed to surround them. Not completely in the woods but far enough and deep enough that Agnes’ home was the only one on this stretch of road and surrounded by greenery to create some semblance of privacy.

Vidal parks the car and pulls the key out of the ignition with some twisting of her body. Left arm having to cross over the steering wheel to grab at it. With her curved position, she leans in closer to Agnes until their lips are just inches apart.

“Let’s go inside…”

Agnes whines, something heavy and defeated as Vidal slowly pulls her hand away. She holds it up for them to see. Her fingers are soaked; a sheen covering over them. Agnes can only plead with her eyes and allows the silence to grow.

She can barely keep her eyes open as she watches Vidal slip those fingers into her mouth to clean off her fingers. That same whine falls from Agnes’ mouth and before Vidal knows it, Agnes is taking off her seat belt and pushing her way out of the passenger side door. There’s no time to waste despite having all the time in the world.

Neither of them are going anywhere, neither of them would leave one another for anything.

Vidal follows suit as she pulls her fingers out of her mouth; the taste of Agnes fresh on her tongue and lips. She unclips her own seat belt and pushes her own way out the driver’s side door. Agnes is already at the front door; barely able to unlock the door as her hands shake. It’s not nerves this time. Desperation hits her like a freight train.

Agnes pushes the front door open and feels Vidal’s hand press on her lower back in a simultaneous motion. The push of the door and the push of Agnes to go inside; to finally enter somewhere that feels safe. The detective barely gets in before she turns around against Vidal’s hand to grab at her shoulders. She pulls her partner in for a deep, messy kiss. They breathe heavily into each other’s mouth as Vidal’s hands find the lapel of Agnes’ jacket; the Sherpa lining so well-worn against her fingers.

Will they even make it to the couch?

Agnes walks back as Vidal walks towards her, navigating through the foyer and into the shared kitchen and living room space. Vidal turns left to guide Agnes to the living room; the couch waiting for them once again. It felt like time was against them. Everything that had bubbled up in the car and at Evanora’s house and in the car ride home had told them that time was their enemy. They had no time. They had all the time in the world. They needed to devour one another as quickly as they could or else.

The room moves around them in a blur as Vidal pushes Agnes down onto the couch. She hears the thud of Agnes’ boots against the carpet and the sigh that falls from her mouth as she feels her body hit the couch. The detective tries her best to adjust herself into a more comfortable position but Vidal is already straddling her partner; arms and legs locking the detective right where she landed.

Agnes’ hands slip down as she pulls Vidal closer. Vidal’s fingers fly as she does her best to pull down Agnes’ jacket as much as she can. There’s really not much she can do with the positions they’re in but enough to make it feel like she’s undressing the detective. Agnes’ hand grab and pull; cupping Vidal’s ass to keep her where she is. There was nowhere else for her to go.

The determination on Agnes’ face is so easily readable that Vidal feels she needs to soothe her. She wants to act fast and right; she wants to give everything she can to Vidal. After all that however, Vidal feels the need to be the one to show Agnes how much she loves and respects her. As if fingering her all the way home wasn’t enough for Agnes to see that. She didn’t have to be the one with all the answers and solutions all the time. She didn’t have to be the one who had to walk in alone and fix all the mistakes that weren’t hers.

Vidal leans forward enough to bury her face into the side of Agnes’ neck. Her favorite spot that’s always marked up with bruises and bites. Agnes sighs as she sinks into the touch; fingers grabbing harder against the round of Vidal’s ass. She pulled her closer if that was even possible. Hot and heavy breath against the side of Agnes’ neck and ear; she knows Agnes is still unbelievably wet from the car ride.

“Agnes,” Vidal whispers against the detective’s skin as she makes it damp with her breathing and kissing. The detective closes her eyes and moans into her name.

Everything from before seems to melt away as Vidal continues to chant her name. Over and over again like a record that keeps skipping. Sometimes her tone is sweet and then changes to something filled with lust that makes the hair on the back of Agnes’ neck stand up. She can now feel the roll of Vidal’s hips as Agnes’ hands guide her, grinding down onto her lap. Agnes doesn’t want it to end. She wants to feel this love and this wanted forever.

The pull away from Agnes is long and labored and Agnes still whines in defeat as Vidal lifts her head. Her hands move back to continue removing Agnes’ clothes; fingers moving quickly to undo each button of her flannel shirt. She pushes that shirt down to join Agnes’ jacket; bunched up at the elbows of Agnes’ arms. Slowly peeling away the layers the detective wears; layers she had seen under not too long ago.

Agnes sighs into it; the peeling back of her clothes as Vidal moves with ease and perfection. There is less to hide under now. Her clothes, her name. Her role as a mother; an abused daughter. Less and less remain hidden and Vidal hasn’t flinched away from it, none of it.

Here she sits instead, fully embracing Agnes for all that she made herself to be. All on her own.

Agnes’ hands slowly slide away and up Vidal’s back; up under her shirt. Hadn’t she come with a jacket? Was it still in the car? Did she manage to peel it off when they got inside? Agnes can’t remember everything, a fuzz against the need to have every inch of Vidal for herself. Her blunt nails scratch up and down her partner’s skin as she pulls her close once more. Her fingers hook underneath Vidal’s bra as she plays with the band. Her hands eventually come round as she cups Vidal’s breasts through the fabric.

Vidal sighs and sinks into Agnes’ hands once more and finally, Agnes opens her eyes to look up at the once new partner on her team.

That felt like ages ago now. Vidal new into her life. It felt like a lifetime ago. It felt like two seconds ago. Agnes squeezes harder until she can’t take the fabric being a barrier. Her hands fall and then come back up, pushing their way under the bra cups to properly grope her lover.

The grinding picks up as Vidal rocks her body into Agnes’ lap; pressing her body against Agnes in every way possible. Her breasts fill out into Agnes’ palms; nipples hard against her hand. She won’t pull her eyes away from the detective as she studies her face. Every single inch of Agnes is dear to her. Everything she had become and continued to be.

Agatha was clearly no more; a thought in the wind. Agnes had always been Agnes to Vidal. That was all there was to it.

A shift in Vidal’s hips allows her to sit up just a little more; body hovering above Agnes’ as she gives herself enough room to dip her hand back into Agnes’ pants. She hadn’t realized until the moment she made contact that they were still unbuttoned. She hoped Agnes saw the smirk grow on her face from the realization of that.

Vidal’s fingers spread and traveled downwards once more and she was right, she usually was about these sorts of things. Agnes was still very wet from the car. The detective sighed into Vidal’s touch as she jutted her hips forwards and felt the resistance from the couch beneath her. Vidal’s weight on top of her and the angle in which she was sitting wasn’t the best to try and fuck against Vidal’s fingers. Her partner would have to do most of the work.

Agnes didn’t mind.

The casual rub against her clit by the pad of Vidal’s finger made Agnes pull her shoulders back and huff; anxious and impatient to pick up where they had left off in her truck. She tried again to buck her hips and failed; felt her face grow hot with the unsuccessful attempt.She felt frustrated and the need to prove she could get what she wanted and when. Agnes’ hands once again met Vidal’s as she grabbed her wrist and shoved her hand down further.

“Stop fucking around, Vidal…” Agnes’ tone came out low; basically a growl.

How could Vidal detest?

The sudden pull makes Vidal’s fingers slip lower; already wet from Agnes. Two fingers at once but she easily could have added a third. It was Vidal’s turn to try and bite back a deep moan.

She focused on how wet Agnes was around her fingers and the slightly rough edges against her fingers. The way Agnes’ hair ticked the back of her hand mixed with the fabric of her jeans rubbing against her hand at the same time. Everything was Agnes; all these feelings and sensations. Wrapped up in a perfect package of soft skin, faded jeans and the hitch of her breath as she tried to stay stoic.

“Please…please, Babe…”

Agnes hisses through gritted teeth as she pushes her upper body back against the couch; neck extended as if giving Vidal another open invitation. She knew she’d be covered in hickeys and bruises after this evening and into the night. She was giving Vidal that chance to take another step. A level of trust she only really had with this woman.

Vidal took it as she breathed in deeply through her nose and folded forwards once more. Teeth and lips instantly meeting with the tender spot on the side of Agnes’ neck. The older woman grunted as she bucked her hips once more, this time, catching some sort of movement as she did so. She could feel Vidal’s fingers deeper inside of herself and the slight sudden curl to bump against the spongy piece of tissue that made Agnes see stars behind her eyelids.

They move together; simultaneously in their need for pleasure. Vidal’s teeth sunk deep in the side of Agnes’ neck while Agnes kept her grip on Vidal’s wrist as tight as ever to help her. Heated breaths and heavy sighs and the expected whisper of a ‘fuck’ or ‘god’ that drops from both of their lips. Tight-knitted brows and a sheen of sweat on their arms; the back of their necks as their hair begins to stick to the warm skin.

Everything seems to slow and then speed up all at once. Vidal pulls her mouth away from Agnes’ neck but not without licking over the red spot that will eventually turn purple. Agnes lets go of Vidal’s wrists to grab her close again as her hands come around Vidal’s waist. They sink low once more as she paws her way against the fabric of Vidal’s jeans; squeezing as Vidal’s body lifts ever so slightly from the way Agnes gropes her ass. Her fingers never uncurl deep inside Agnes and the pressure against the spongy tissue is enough to make the detective whine.

There wasn’t any other sound on this earth as beautiful as Agnes O’Connor whining out of pleasure.

The sudden sensation of wetness between Vidal’s thighs was confirmation of that; underwear sticking to her folds as she rolled her hips down into Agnes’ lap. All she had to do was imagine a bulge and that was more than enough for her to easily get off whether Agnes was packing or not.

They find each other again; Vidal’s forehead pressed to Agnes’. Their movements once again sync up to a stable rhythm, that perfect give and take. Inhale and exhale, they chase each other until it starts to come to an almost complete stop. The silence falls around them like a sheet of clarity.

Vidal catches her breath; swallows silently as she lets the fog clear from her mind. Nothing and everything had changed. Nothing and everything meant a little bit more to her now.

And Agnes, sitting there in her pride, couldn’t allow her past to further swallow her future and present whole. There was only room for the certainties in her life now. Sure and compact things like the love Vidal gave to her over and over again.

“You know I love you right? Really love you? Everything about you…the parts you never told me about, couldn’t tell me about. The parts I had to see today even if you weren’t ready to show me…do you know that, Agnes? I don’t want you to forget it…”

No conversation

version w/o the cheese.i think hes just sooo silly