#ragehappyfemslashweek

“Thank you for meeting us on such short notice, Ms Williams,” Lindsay calls out and she can see Andrea stiffen from beside her. “It’s come to our attention-” she gestures to the two men flanking her- “that we haven’t had a proper, face to face introduction since you joined our… family.” Mica doesn’t like the way her tone dips with the word family, but there's nothing she can really do, lest she starts something that she knows she can’t finish.

Andrea’s put them into this situation, she signed the contract with the Fakes, put them on their payroll- so technically, Lindsay is just as much as Mica’s boss as Andrea is now.

That doesn’t mean she has to like it.

“Niceties are wasted in our line of work, Ms Tuggey- there is no need for such formalities with us,” Andrea replies and Mica rolls her eyes.

Sometimes she can’t help but wonder how Ms Williams can be so ignorant; and how she managed to survive in Los Santos this long. They’re not here for a friendly chat, they’re not here to learn names and make friends- they’re here to test their loyalty, and Mica’s not sure it’s a test she can pass.

Sure, she’s been working with Andrea for two years, she’s got her own friends in this crew and she’s happy where she is for now- but she wouldn’t sacrifice herself to save any of them. That’s not her, there is no way Mica’s going to jump in front of a bullet for her crew members or go on a suicide mission for Andrea. So if the Fakes’ want loyalty, the best they’re going to get is her undying loyalty to herself.

“Indulge us,” Lindsay replies, without missing a beat. Andrea frowns but nods anyway, and Mica gets the urge to step away from the group. She doesn’t want to be associated with them in this moment, standing there in the dark at ten thirty at night, something feels off. But stepping away would draw attention to herself and that's the last things she needs, so Mica stays put. Lindsay inclines her head slightly and the man to her left steps forward, skirting around their six-man crew before coming to a stop beside Desmond.

Desmond shifts uncomfortably and Mica has to hide her smile, glad that he’s the first to go under the metaphorical- and quite possibly literal- knife.

“What’s your name, man?” the guy asks and Desmond's jaw clenches, but he doesn't answer. “Come on dude, I ain't going to eat you- that's more Ryan’s thing anyway.” He glances over his shoulder back at the other man- Ryan- who’s still standing beside Lindsay and offers a devious grin, “he’s got a thing for skinny, white dudes,” he adds.

It takes her longer than she’d pride herself on, but Mica now understands who Lindsay’s brought along with her. The missing mask had thrown her off, unused to seeing the Vagabond’s face so unobscured, but with his name tossed around so freely she gets it now. The Vagabond stands to Lindsay’s right and Mogar taunts Desmond from her left.

They're dangerous men, not anybody she'd want to meet alone in a dark alley- but that doesn't stop her from letting out a low snort at Mogar’s words. Lindsay’s eyes flicker over to her as she bites her lip to hide her smile, and then the woman’s gaze hardens- moving to study her. It's a weird feeling, to be put under a microscope and examined so thoroughly, but she doesn't waver and she doesn't fidget. She stands tall as Michael continues to taunt Desmond from behind her and meets Lindsay’s gaze head on.

She can't stop herself from flinching when she hears the gunshot.

It’s loud, disorientating and so close that she glances down at her own chest for a moment- panic seeping in at the thought that she was the target. But then she hears the sound of gurgling from behind her, and when she spins on her heel Desmond is in a heap on the floor. She doesn't need to check his pulse to know he's dead.

Michael uses their moment of stunned silence to scrunch up his face and shrug, holding his gun loosely between his fingers. “He pissed me off,” is all he explains and Mica sucks in a breath. Andrea won't let that slide, she's way too proud to just let the Fakes kill a member of her own crew without a fight.

Mica doesn't want a fight, though, she wants to get home safe to fall asleep with her cat on her lap and possibly dream of the feeling of Lindsay’s mouth on her thighs.

“Thank you,” she breathes, tone halfway between relieved and exasperated, as if she’s almost berating Michael for taking so long to kill him. “That asshole has been pissing me off for way too long.”

Michael lets out a snort at the same time Andrea shrieks out, “Mica!” Utterly aghast at Mica’s apathetic response. To her left, Lydia pulls out her gun and levels it at Michael- who rolls his eyes- and behind her, Lucas and Robert do the same, though they aim for Lindsay and Ryan respectfully.

Lindsay tsks, shaking her head slowly and Mica can see it coming. She can see the way Ryan’s hand moves to hover by his hip, the way Michael’s gun shifts in his grip- losing its flippancy. She catches the way Lindsay tenses, body pulling tight like a live wire- ready for a fight at the drop of a hat.

Mica hits the ground, chin slamming against the gravel as the air in her lungs is knocked out of her at impact. She keeps her head down, faced presses against the gravel as the sound of gunshots suffocates her. It's only when things fall back into a comfortable silence that she lifts her head enough to look around, and she catches sight of Lindsay crouching in front of her- perfectly balanced even with heels on.

“Mica, right?” She asks and the laugh that slips out of Mica in response is slightly too hysterical- something that betrays how shaken she really is.

“Y-yeah, that would be me,” she mutters, pushing herself up onto her knees and two pairs’ of hands gently grip her arms, pulling her to her feet. She glances at Ryan and Michael briefly before turning her attention back to Lindsay.

“You're a smart girl,” she mumbles, inclining her head left before letting her gaze flicker over Mica again briefly. “How long were you with those guys?” She asks, flicking her hand in the direction behind Mica, and she knows if she turned around she’d see five corpses lying behind her.

She doesn't turn around.

“Two years.” Her carbine rifle lies discarded on the ground a few feet away from her, but she’s not stupid enough to go for it. She wants to get out of this alive, and while her chances are currently slim, making an aggressive move would remove any confusion. She’d be fucked, and not in a fun way.

“What did you do for them?” Michael asks and Mica lets her gaze flicker to him. Standing this close, she can see the light spray of blood on his face, and she knows it's Desmond's. He makes no move to wipe himself clean, completely unbothered by it and she has to stop herself from doing it herself. She doesn't like it, doesn't like how easily he accepts the gore as a simple side effect of their job.

“Protection, mostly. I, uh- my job is- was to shadow Andrea on missions and keep her safe from any threats against her life-” She scrunches up her face and frowns- “uh, guess I failed that job.”

“You can't protect those who have little care for themselves,” Ryan mutters lowly from beside her, and his voice is a lot softer than what she imagined, “you can't keep them all alive, but I’d say two years without failure is pretty impressive despite the circumstances.”

Mica huffs out a somewhat forced laugh. “Yeah, she sure did make it difficult.”

Lindsay offers her a soft smile and Mica’s heart skips a beat briefly, but she ignores it and just smiles back. “Turns out, tonight wasn't a complete waste of time- seeing as you’re newly unemployed, Mica, do you have time for a quick job interview?” She asks and Mica can't help but frown.

“Uh, right now?” She replies and Lindsay raises her eyebrows.

“You have other plans?”

“No, uh, no- it’s just, I really want to go fucking home,” she mutters and Michael bursts into laughter beside her.

“Darling, this isn't an interview you want to miss- it’ll be worth the late night, we promise,” he replies and she can't help but roll her eyes.

“Plus,” Ryan adds, “you’ll get no second chances with us, consider this your only offer.”

Mica sucks in a deep breath, her gaze flickering between the three criminals. Joining the Fakes is top tier, with them she’d be able to cement herself a name in the criminal underworld- she’d finally get what she’s been working on for the last two years.

So the choice is pretty damn easy.

“Alright, let's go- I’m in.”

“Excellent.”

In person, the penthouse is just as intimidating as Mica imagined it to be. Lights sporadically illuminate the building, just enough for her to get a good look at it in the darkness. It’s too tall- she’d hate to be on the roof of the damned thing- and she’s sure all of its residents are snobbish assholes, but there's little she can do about that. Instead, she just follows Lindsay’s lead, with Michael and Ryan at her back, as they shuffle into the lobby and then the elevator.

None of them attempt to break the heavy silence that settles inside the elevator and Mica chews at her bottom lip. Her heart's beating a little too hard in her chest, the rhythmic thumps sound way too loud in contrast to the silence around her and every breath she sucks in is shaky at best. To say she’s nervous would be an understatement. She's walking into a lion's den with no protection, with no backup plan and she can make the logically guess that if things don't go right- she’s dead.

The elevator door slides open and Michael and Ryan don't hesitate to shuffle out, but Lindsay doesn't move and Mica just stares at her- unsure of what her next move should be. Does she follow the others? Or does she stay put, and follow Lindsay’s lead?

Lindsay makes the decision for her, leaning forward to press an unmanicured finger against the button close the elevator doors again. She glances over at Mica and smiles, a smile that’s practically predatory. “Just you, me, and the big boss for this interview, sweetheart,” she explains and Mica nods slowly.

“Ramsey.”

“Yep,” she replies, “he should be in his office right now, but I wouldn't put it past the old man to be downstairs, passed out with the rest of the crew- it’s just like him to make things that little bit more difficult for me.” When the doors slide open again this time Lindsay doesn't wait, she steps out into the carpeted hallway and looks back over her shoulder at Mica. “Let's get this show on the road, sweetheart,” She says and Mica follows her out of the elevator.

They make their way down the hallway and through what Mica assumes to be Geoff Ramsey's personal apartment until Lindsay comes to a stop in front of a dark mahogany door. She raps her knuckles against the wood twice but doesn't bother giving Geoff any time to respond before she's pushing her way in. Mica shuffles in after her and when she looks up, she’s met with the sight of two very surprised faces with pink lips and red cheeks staring back at her; one of which belongs to the most dangerous man in Los Santos.

“What the fucking fuck?” Geoff spits, not bothering to disentangle himself from the lad sitting in his lap. “I told Gavin to tell the rest of you assholes to leave us the fuck alone. Get out! We're busy,” he hisses.

Lindsay doesn't even flinch, instead, she just rolls her eyes in response. “You and Jeremy can fuck later, but I need you now. We’ve got important business to talk about, Geoffrey” she says and the lad- Jeremy- lets out a low groan, “and plus, bit of blue balls never killed anyone before,”

“It’ll fucking kill me,” Geoff shoots back, but Jeremy’s already climbing off his lap and straightening himself out, tugging the hem of his shirt down. The frown Geoff shoots them looks more like a helpless pout and Mica can't help but smirk at the childish display.

“God dammit, Lindsay- you’re such a fucking cock-blocker,” Jeremy mumbles and she just grins back at him, seemly enjoying their annoyance just as much as Mica is. He glances back at Geoff and mumbles, “just come get me when you’ve finished with this,” as he gestures to Mica, before skirting around them both- closing the office door behind him.

The room is silent for a moment and then Lindsay takes the lead, crossing the room to drop onto the couch on the far side of the room. She leans back and toes off her heels, stretching out like a cat and the movement completely mesmerises Mica. She can’t help but stare at the other woman for a moment, eyes flickering over her body- drinking in the sight of Lindsay completely relaxed, her black and red a-line dress slightly bunched up around her thighs. She wants to crawl into her lap and pepper her with kisses, she wants to spread Lindsay’s thighs and bite at the sensitive, pale skin that's there.

She wants, she wants so badly; but Geoff clears his throat loudly- enough to snap her out of her head- and when she meets the older man’s gaze, she can see the knowing look in his eyes.

“So Lindsay, who’s this huh?” He asks, taking a leisurely sip from the glass of whiskey Mica doesn't remember him pouring- she’ll admit she was a bit distracted, though.

“She was a part of William’s crew, but she's newly unemployed and I thought she might be a valuable hire for our crew.”

Geoff hums softly in response, “I’m guessing your little meet and greet went swimmingly?” he asks and Lindsay nods. It takes her a moment, but Mica suddenly understands that she was wrong earlier- their meeting wasn't a test of loyalty, it was a means to tie up loose ends. Lindsay, Michael and Ryan had no intention of letting any of her crew survive the night.

And yet here she is, part of the reason that the kingpin of Los Santos didn't end up getting laid tonight.

“Good, that woman was nothing but trouble,” he finishes and Mica has to bite her tongue to keep herself from agreeing with him. He eyes her for a long moment, holding her gaze with an unwavering attention that’s almost unnatural before he sighs, breaking eye contact to lean back in his chair. “I’m going to trust your word on this one Lindsay, if you think she's worth it then she's in,” he replies easily and Mica can’t stop herself from frowning.

“That’s it?” she blurts out, and Geoff raises his eyebrows. “You’re not going to question me? You’re not going to threaten me?”

“Do you want me to?” he inquires and Mica throws up her hands.

“Yes! That’s what you’re meant to do, you’re meant to make sure I’m not a liability. You’re meant to scare me, enough so that I keep my mouth shut and don’t go selling out to the first offer I get,” she hisses, “you’re the goddamn leader of this crew- why are you risking everything you’ve built on someone who could tear you apart from the inside?”

“I trust Lindsay,” he replies, face completely unreadable. He’s got a good poker face, Mica will give him that, but even if she could see the flickers of anger in his eyes, she wouldn’t apologise. His carelessness infuriates her, the way he’s so willing to hand away the control of his crew to someone else. She needs him to see that what he’s doing is dangerous; she also doesn’t know why she cares so much.

“That’s not enough,” she says, shaking her head and the smirk she gets from him in return only makes her even angrier. “Trust isn’t enough when it comes to people like us. Lindsay doesn’t know me, she doesn’t know who I am. Her judgement is based on a first impression that could be completely false! Don’t you care about that? At all?”

It’s like the flick of a switch, the way his posture changes before her and the way his eyes harden their gaze. Gone is the aloof mask, replaced with something much more serious and powerful; and Mica can’t help but love it. This is the man she wants, the one sitting in front of her right now, the one who keeps Los Santos under his thumb so expertly.

“What’s your name again, darling?” he asks and she offers him a wry smile.

“Mica.”

“Mica. This is what you want, right? You want scary Geoff, you want the man who fought his way to the top and who’s watched other crews rise and fall around him? You want the man who outlived the Roosters’ and watched some of his closest friends die? I’m correct in assuming, that’s what you want from me? You want me to be serious?” he asks and she nods. He’s right, sitting in front of her right now is someone who’s terrifying. She can feel it, the little pinpricks of fear biting at her skin, but she asked for this- she poked the bear and shook the hornet's nest- so she’s not about to let fear stop her from proving her point.

“Yes. I want the man that everyone is afraid of. I want to be intimidated, and I want to be threatened. I want you to take this seriously because you’re not. You’re not,” she hisses, “I’m twenty-two, I know I’m young and I know that I’ve still got a lot to learn about this life. But I’ve watched Andrea taking in strays without a care for the consequences, and then have to deal with the fallout when things went to hell. I’ve watched friends get charmed by pretty smiles and honeyed words only to be left with nothing when the illusion breaks.” She sucks in a breath and levels him with a hard stare, “So I want you to protect your family,” she finishes.

He doesn’t hesitate for a second. “I am. You’re in.”

Mica frowns. She doesn’t understand what he’s doing, she doesn’t understand why he’s letting her in so easily. She wants to argue with him further, but that might just sign her death warrant so she just shakes her head and mutters, “W-what? Why?”

“I think,” Lindsay cuts in as Geoff moves to take another sip of his whiskey, “that someone so willing to argue with Geoff on the account that he’s hiring them too easily- is less than likely to be someone with harmful intentions towards the crew. Plus, sweetheart,” she adds, “I’m a pretty good judge of character.”

She nods slowly, but the world around her doesn’t feel all too real anymore. It feels like she’s in a dream but she knows it’s not because Lindsay climbs to her feet and makes her way over towards her. Her fingers curl around Mica’s arm and she waits until she holds Mica’s gaze before smiling softly, and suddenly Mica gets overwhelmed with the need to kiss her.

“We’ll figure out the details in the morning,” Geoff mumbles, effectively cutting through the moment, “but for now, would you please get the fuck out of my office. Oh, and send Jeremy back up would you, I’m not finished with him just yet,” he adds and Lindsay glances back at him.

“Will do, boss.” She glances back at Mica and suddenly the smiles back- the same one that Mica wants to kiss. “Let’s go,” she whispers and Mica nods. Lindsay leads her out of Geoff’s office, her grip on Mica’s arm never faltering and they make their way out of the apartment.

She can’t quite read the look in Lindsay’s eyes as they wait for the elevator, but she doesn’t dwell on the thought for too long. She’s stuck in her own head at the moment, to caught up in the thought that she’s now a member of the Fake AH Crew. She’s finally climbing the ranks, finally managed to achieve the thing she’s been working towards for at least four years now. With them, with Geoff and Lindsay, she can make a name for herself- she can build a reputation and be taken seriously for once in her life.

It makes her feel giddy with happiness.

When the elevator's doors slide open, they shuffle inside and Lindsay presses the button for the floor below them. Time seems to move faster now that Mica’s not stuck worrying about her fate anymore, so within a matter of moments, Lindsay is tugging her towards the crew's second apartment. She doesn’t pause to give Mica the opportunity to meet her future crew members, doesn’t let her introduce herself or trade names with them, instead she just pushes the front door open and calls out, “Jeremy! Geoff’s all yours,” before pulling the door closed again behind her.

“Come on,” is all she offers as an explanation, but Mica’s happy to let her lead. There’s something about the other woman that’s all charm and temptation, and Mica’s already weak resolve is quickly fading to nothing. They shuffle into the elevator again, but this time Lindsay chooses the floor above Geoff’s and by the time the elevator comes to a stop and the doors slide open once again, Mica realises where Lindsay’s taken her.

Her personal apartment.

Part of her feels like she’s intruding somewhere she shouldn’t be, but Lindsay doesn’t seem to mind when Mica drops onto the couch, so she deliberately pushes the thought from her mind. She leans back against the leather couch and lets her eyes slip closed; her exhaustion seems to catch up with her all at once and she just wants to pass out. Gone is the adrenaline rush she had earlier and now she can’t help but feel completely burnt out.

“I guess the day must be catching up with you right now, huh?” Lindsay comments and Mica can feel the couch shift to her left, “how are you feeling?”

“‘M tired,” she mumbles back and the laugh she gets in response from Lindsay is something so soft and sweet that it makes her heart skip a beat. She lets her eyes flutter open slowly and her head lolls to the side just enough so that she can catch sight of Lindsay. She’s watching Mica closely, but her gaze is soft and Mica offers her a tired smile.

“Come on, let's get you to bed. You can sleep in my room,” she says and Mica can feel herself losing the fight to keep herself conscious for much longer.

“But, where will you sleep, though?” she asks quietly and Lindsay’s smile grows tenfold. She leans in closer, closing some of the distance between the two of them and Mica’s eyes instantly fall to her lips. They’re cherry red and Mica doesn’t need to touch them to know that they’re soft, but that doesn’t mean she’d pass up the opportunity if Lindsay were to let her.

“My bed is a queen size, sweetheart. I’m sure there's plenty of room for the two of us if that’s alright with you?” she asks, as if she can’t already tell that Mica is enthralled by her. But Mica nods anyway, albeit a bit sluggishly, and Lindsay huffs a low laugh. Fingers move to lightly stroke the side of Mica’s face, and when she opens her eyes again, she’s met with the sight of Lindsay’s face hovering a few inches in front of her. “Can I kiss you, sweetheart?” she asks, voice barely a whisper and it takes Mica a few moments to push through the haze clouding her mind to understand her.

“Yeah,” she mumbles back and Lindsay doesn’t waste a second. It’s light, gentle and barely there, but it’s still a kiss and Mica finds herself cursing her own exhaustion; because if she weren’t tired, she’d be kissing Lindsay back with enthusiasm. But all she can manage right now is soft kisses and yet, Lindsay doesn’t seem to mind.

She doesn’t quite know how long they sit there for, but Lindsay’s the first one to pull away and Mica doesn’t have the energy left to pull her back. “Okay, for real this time, let’s get you to bed,” she mumbles and Mica barely manages a nod before she’s slumping against the couch, completely unconscious. Lindsay sighs, but she doesn’t hesitate to slip her arms underneath Mica’s legs and behind her back, completely content to carry her small form towards the bedroom.

It would be pretty damn easy to wander upstairs to her apartment to get a change of clothes, benefits of living right about her job, but that would mean leaving the shop unattended for a few moments. So it’s just a question of whether or not it’s worth the risk to leave- since Mica won’t arrive for her shift until after lunch, so waiting for her would be a worthless plan. She lets out a huff and seriously considers just giving in and sprinting upstairs when the bell chimes, signalling the arrival of a customer, which effectively ruins her plan.

Any chance she has of maintaining her professional look is gone, so there's nothing else Meg can really do other than just plaster a fake a smile on her face and hope that they don’t stay too long. She moves the cause of her problem to the small bench behind her, making sure that the vase is nowhere near the edge, before turning back around- eyes scanning the room. She sidesteps around the puddle at her feet and the discarded flowers, rises up onto her tiptoes and tries to catch a glance of them wandering around her store. They’re hidden behind the display in the middle of the room; the one that Mica talked her into setting up in order to showcase their bouquets, but all it’s managed to do is block Meg’s view of the door.

Mica says it’s because she’s fucking short, but Meg’s seen Mica have to circle around the display just to see the door as well, so she knows it’s not only her.

She stays behind the counter, absolutely refusing to go chasing after customers dressed like she just participated in a wet t-shirt contest. Instead, she glances down at the floor and makes herself busy by picking up the ruined flowers scattered about. They’re useless now since there’s no way she’s going to be able to sell a bouquet made of destroyed flowers- but she might just keep them for herself. She’s never been bothered about flowers wilting, they’re still beautiful even when their time has run out. She’ll probably set them up in her study, where she can see them when she sorts out finances for her business.

She’s not looking forward to that; hopefully, she can convince Ryan to come over and do it for her.

Once she’s got them all in her arms, she stands back up and straightens herself out, turning back to the front of the store. She’s not expecting the figure that’s on the other side of the counter, so she can’t help but let out a small yelp when she catches sight of them. Lindsay laughs back at her with loud and unabashed snorts that make Meg roll her eyes. She doesn’t know if Lindsay’s laughing at her being scared, or the fact that she looks like a mess with her wet t-shirt, wide eyes and the twenty flowers she has (give or take) clutched in her arms.

“Shut up! I wasn’t expecting you to be there,” she replies and Lindsay shakes her head, not bothering to hide her giggles.

“You weren’t expecting me- a customer- to be in your store?” She shakes her head, clicking her tongue and Meg rolls her eyes.

“You know what I meant,” she mumbles back and something clicks in her mind, “wait, why are you here? Are you buying another plant?” she asks and the sheepish smile that overtakes Lindsay’s features is enough to confirm her words. Meg watches her slowly as she sets a potted plant on the counter between them, before letting her hands fall back to her side. Meg just stares at it for a moment before letting out a low sigh.

“Another one? That’s the third one this week, Lindsay!” she exclaims, “that’s like, what, twenty-seven in total now?” She wants to know what the other woman does with them all and she can only imagine what Lindsay’s home looks like. Plants in every room, the whole house just bursting with colour thanks to the variety of flowers she’s brought over the past three months. It must be gorgeous.

“More like thirty-one, I think. Are you going to ring me up, or what?” she replies and Meg scrunches up her face. She twists around and carefully places the flowers on the bench next to the offending vase and then turns back to face Lindsay, glad to have her arms free again. She knows that her shirt is still wet and Lindsay’s eyes are trying to be subtle (trying being the keyword, since it’s obvious where her eyes are looking), so Meg just ignores her.

It’s only fair, especially since she’s spent her fair share of time eyeing Lindsay’s chest as well.

Instead, she just grabs for the flower pot sitting on the counter, a pink Sweet Pea plant this time, and turns towards the cash register. Her mind absentmindedly reminds her what a Sweet Pea plant means- delicate pleasure, departure, thank you for a lovely time- and she wonders if Lindsay knows what her flowers’ mean when she buys them.

She knows the questions coming even before Lindsay asks. “So... why are you all wet?” Meg glances up at her, blushing slightly when she catches sight of the quizzical look on Lindsay’s face.

“I just- I just dropped the vase,” she mumbles, shrugging. “A client wanted me to make a few bouquets for his wedding, so he and his fiancee can choose which one they like the best. I was halfway through my third one when I dropped it. I saved it-” she gestures to behind her where the vase sits, “-but not before the fucking thing drenched me.”

“You’re so fucking clumsy, Megs,” Lindsay replies, “it’s honestly ridiculous.”

Meg shakes her head, pointing her finger at the other woman, “You want to know what's ridiculous? Out of the two of us, who owns thirty-one potted plants, huh?” she asks and she’s rewarded with the sight of the sheepish look that flickers over Lindsay’s face again. She just doesn’t realise it’s for a completely different reason until Lindsay speaks.

“Uh… you see, the better question would be out of the two of us, who has brought thirty-one potted plants…” she replies and Meg frowns.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks and then it clicks, “no. Lindsay, no. W-what are you doing? How did you manage to let them all die?” Lindsay’s cheeks turn a bright shade of pink and Meg absentmindedly realises that she looks adorable all embarrassed, but she doesn’t let it distract her from Lindsay’s mass plant murder.

“I don’t know! I watered those fucking things, I let them sit in the sun and I gave them good soil. And yet! They all die, no matter what I do,” she complains and Meg leans against the counter, resting her face in her hands.

“Why do you keep trying then?” she asks and Lindsay gives her a look that clearly says there’s no way she’s going to just give up.

“Partly because I would like to have some plants in my house- for longer than a week- and partly because of spite, but mostly it's because I get to see you whenever I buy a new one,” she replies and this time it’s Meg’s turn to blush bright red.

“You come here for me?” she asks softly and Lindsay goes unnaturally silent, nodding her head slowly in response. They fall silent and Meg fidgets with the hem of her shirt. She’s been crushing on Lindsay for almost as long as she’s known the other woman, but she’s never even thought to consider that Lindsay may feel the same way about her. She hums softly and glances back at Lindsay, who’s staring down at the Sweet Pea plant that sits between them.

“I, uh- my shift ends in two hours, so if you want…” she sucks in a breath, trying not to chicken out, “if you want, we could go out for lunch and maybe I could give you a few tips on how to keep this plant alive?” she offers, and Lindsay’s eyes snap up to meet hers and the grin that follows is infectious.

“Like a date?” Lindsay asks and Meg nods quickly, “then hell yeah, I’ll come back around one o’clock to pick you up then. I can’t fucking wait.” She slaps down a ten dollar note on the counter and grabs for the Sweet Pea plant, not once taking her eyes off of Meg. When she finally breaks eye contact, moving to circle around the display in the middle of the room, Meg suddenly snaps out of her daze and calls out to her.

“Wait! Lindsay, stop for a sec.” Lindsay hesitates, spinning on her heel with eyebrows raised. “Can you look after the shop for me for a few minutes while I go get changed?” she pleads, gesturing down at her damp shirt and Lindsay rolls her eyes in response.

“Yeah, of course, you dork,” she says and Meg grins.