#softpluto

“She’s going to be sticking around. That’s non-negotiable right now, and—” Ava sighs. “—I just need you to be civil. Please,” he says, eyes tired behind his stupid-looking spectacles. 

“Look,” Ava snaps, “I’m always civil. It’s her who always—”

“Ava.” 

Ava knows she’s loveable, is the thing. She’s pretty sure Vincent kind of thinks of her as the daughter he never had, or something equally as shudder-inducing as that. It’s that which makes him soften, visibly, as she continues to glare at him. He reaches out to touch her shoulder. “Ava…” 

She snorts, crossing her arms. “Fine,” she snaps, looking away, “but I don’t want to speak to her.”

“You won’t have to,” he replies, instantly placating, shoulders slumping in obvious relief. “Your specialties don’t line up in any way, and you have no reason to be called on in today’s meeting. It’s just a few weeks,” he says, and Ava hangs her head back, letting out a groan. “Just a few weeks, and then she’ll be gone again.”

Ava doesn’t much like the sound of that. She stalks out of the room without another word, making her way next door where the meeting will be taking place. She’s one of the last to arrive, and the object of her protests is already here. 

She meets Beatrice’s eyes, sitting down across from Ava’s own seat—on purpose, she’s sure—and Ava sets her jaw. Beatrice rolls her eyes in response, a sharp, cold response, and there’s that thrill Ava’s always chasing. She’s not at all required to not look at her and so she doesn’t even try, content to study Beatrice and only Beatrice as it drags on. Throughout the entire meeting, Ava doesn’t pay attention to a single word anyone else says. 

Under the table, her leg bounces, restless. Her hands drum on her lap, unable to keep still in any semblance of the word. 

Just a few more minutes. 

/ / 

“Ava—”

“Shh, you’re going to get us caught!” Ava fastens a hand over Beatrice’s mouth, relishing in the frown she gets in return. This one’s much more real; much nicer to see, too. It’s only been a few days since she saw her last, but that’s far too long.

“I’m going to get us caught?” Beatrice pulls away from her hand, leaning against the wall of the closest she’d been dragged into with an unimpressed look. “You’re the one ensuring that we both disappear at the same time. Very suspicious.” 

Ava thinks that’d require any of their coworkers to have more than one functioning brain cell but she doesn’t say that. 

“Look. Even if someone does find us, they’re just going to think that you finally gave into my charms,” Ava says convincingly, shaking her head. “They’re not going to even consider the idea that we’re working for someone else.” 

“Into your what?” 

“And even if they do think of that,” Ava goes on, ignoring her, “which they won’t, by the way—” she raises her hand to Beatrice’s cheek, delighting in the way that, despite Beatrice’s protests, she still leans into the touch. “Then we just go. We’ve got plenty of evidence already, these next few weeks are just wrapping it all up in a tidy little bow.” She grins, sharp and ragged, and watches the way Beatrice’s gaze darkens, eyes dropping lower. “Sometimes it’s more fun to be sloppy, you know?” 

Beatrice’s brow furrows again, but she doesn’t move away. Her own hands creep up Ava’s back to her hair, tracing lines of heat across her spine. Ava’s nose brushes against hers, heart skipping a beat. She darts her eyes back up once more, relishing in the unfocused state, and then, finally, leans in properly like she’s been wanting. 

The kiss is softer than she would’ve expected, but that’s not at all something to be disappointed about. Ava’s other hand comes up so she can cup both of Beatrice’s cheeks, pressing nearer, as close as she can manage. Beatrice is warm against her in a familiar, calming sort of way. Ava’s missed her so much. 

They both break away momentarily to breathe, and in the interim Beatrice hisses, “Fine. But any consequences will be on your head.”