#poor dot

fatin: even better!

dot: What the fuck did you-

Chapter 80

(i’ll post to ao3 in the morning <3)

Dot’s pretty sure Leah and Fatin are banging. 

(She’s seen it before, it’s a classic week six progression on Survivor. Allies who were once your enemy suddenly become something more important than just allies.)

If they’re not hooking up, at least something has changed between them to make them both mellow out considerably. She’s noticed Leah isn’t pulling at her eyebrows as much, which is kind of a low bar but she also hasn’t run into any large bodies of water recently, so Dot counts it as a win. And something about Fatin just seems...different. Maybe that’s what happens when you have a best friend, you develop a 6th sense, somehow knowing that, somewhere on this island (the island they SHARE), Leah and Fatin have been dick deep in each other (vag deep? No, that sounds too weird.) Whatever, good for them.

Honestly, Dot’s kind of impressed at their resourcefulness. Fatin’s proactive like that and well, Leah’s always been a little bit in love with her (Dot can’t blame her. Back in the early days when Fatin first found the waterfall and brought them all to it, Dot was so overjoyed that she could’ve kissed her. Maybe not on the lips, but like on the cheek or something) so, maybe something was bound to happen. 

Whatever is happening, it’s definitely changed Fatin. She’s more affectionate with all of them, not just Leah. Sometimes Dot notices that she drifts towards Leah, seeking contact with her, almost as if she’s not even aware of it. That’s the most jarring part about the whole thing, Dot thinks, how Fatin’s subconscious even seeks Leah out. Before this whole Leatin thing (it’s what she’s been calling it inside her head), Fatin rarely sought out the others for anything, really. Now, she’s like a stage five clinger. It’s a little strange but Dot’s just glad she’s moved on from wiping blood on Leah’s face and legit punching her in the face (honestly, she’s still unsure if she respects Fatin more or less because of that).

Dot assumes that Leah and Fatin are at least a little aware how obvious they are but maybe not. Not that she believes in God, but some higher power was laughing at her when they assigned chores one day because she got paired up with Leah and Fatin for collecting firewood. Which really just means she’ll have to put up (pretend not to hear) with Fatin’s even more explicit pickup lines, the ones she deems too vulgar for the group. Someday, she’ll be able to walk through the woods without Shelby and Toni sneaking off and Leah and Fatin will either keep it in their pants (not likely) or finally just admit to everyone so Dot can build their allotted hookup time into her daily schedule. 

At least with three people, collecting wood goes quicker. Although, actually she’s not that sure because Leah and Fatin hold hands the whole time. Dot watches Leah struggle to pick up another branch and not spill the growing pile she’s sharing with Fatin in her arms. It’s almost cute if it wasn’t pitiful the way all of the sticks slowly fall. Dot can’t witness this anymore.

“You know, it’ll be easier if you just stop holding hands,” she says, something that is blatantly obvious.

“What?” Fatin looks back at Dot, maybe blushing if she could. 

“We...we weren’t holding hands,” Fatin splutters. Yeah, okay. Dot knows her vision is shit, but like c’mon.

Leah steps away from Fatin and unlinks their fingers and pulls her hand away.

The rest of the sticks fall into a pile around their feet.

Dot reminds herself to breathe, reminds herself to use the same technique from when Shelby and Toni finally told everyone where they were the night before they brought back the lychees.

Then, she sees Leah nudge Fatin’s ass as she bends down to pick up the wood; they’re both grinning, like sex grins.

Dot stops trying right then and there and tells them she’s walking back to camp. 

Toni: i love you too

Shelby: i love you more

Toni: i love YOU more

Shelby: no i love you the most

Toni: no i love YOU the most

The sh fandom to generous, kind, sweet, tender-hearted Dot:

"Miss Fisher! Must we climb up so *quite* so high? Shouldn't we have... ropes, or more practical shoes at the very least?" Dot cried, without any real hope of persuading her target.

Ha! I appreciate the zeal that leads to three sentences here.

"Miss Fisher! Must we climb up so quite so high? Shouldn't we have… ropes, or more practical shoes at the very least?" Dot cried, without any real hope of persuading her target.

"Don't be a goose," replied Phryne Fisher, somewhat breathlessly. Gripping a cornice, she added: "You do have a point about the shoes."

Dot watched, mesmerized, as her employer worked her two-tone dancing pumps off her feet. She swallowed as they fell, one after the other, to the flowerbed below (Mr. Butler would have something to say about the scuffs on the leather.)