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summary: Post 2x16 (âRebirthâ), as the search for Kate goes cold, Ryan goes home with Sophie to regroup. Sophie seeks a different sort of comfort than Ryan is prepared to offer. + read on ao3
notes: HAPPY WILDMOORE WEEK!!! I was going to post something else originally, but if the prompt for day one is emotions / tropes, then it feels like it's time to drop the angsty wildmoore late s2 moment that I never posted.
context: back in 2x16, Alice jogged some of Circe!Kateâs memories, but the only person that Circe!Kate recognized instantly was Sophie. While Circe!Kate and Sophie were alone, Circe!Kate sent Sophie to go get liquor from her desk drawer and took off into the night. This picks up right after.
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Ryanâs used to keeping late hours by this point. But she normally has the Batsuit, not just a long sleeve crop-top to keep her warm.
Sophie doesnât seem to mind. The frantic adrenaline of searching for Kate keeps her going. Sophie doesnât even get back into the car after checking the old Kane house. She just paces from one end of her car to the other, while Ryan watches from her seat on the carâs hood.
âSophieâŚ.â Ryan starts.
Sophie does another about-face. âWeâre not done. Thereâs still the waffle standââ
âAt midnight?â Ryan deadpans.
At this point, not a single soulâs alive in the suburban neighborhood. What would make a waffle stand any different?
âSheâs gone there before!â Sophie snaps. Ryanâs too tired to actually respond to the tone, but Sophie must have heard herself. She takes a sharp breath. âIâm sorry.â
Ryan nods as a way of accepting the apology. She slips off the hood of the car to stand in front of Sophie. Maybe if she physically cuts off the path, Sophie will stop moving. The last thing they need is for Sophie to work herself into a frenzy, or go charging after Roman.
Sophie begrudgingly stops opposite Ryan. It doesnât give Ryan much, but itâs enough. Ryanâs driven from one end of Gotham to the other for Sophie tonight. But they have to stop at some point.
âLook, we donât know who, or what, Kateâs looking for right now.â Ryan takes a second to think. Kate really could be at this waffle stand, or at the Cartwright barn, or anywhere that feels helpful. Ryan thinks aloud. âWhen I was poisoned, I went to Angelique. Both for answers and because Ange used to be my person. Maybe Kate would go to you.â
Sophie wavers. The street lights make her seem smaller. More vulnerable than she usually lets Ryan see. She puts a hard mask over her voice to make up for it. âDo you really believe that, or are you just trying to make me go home?â
Ryan tilts her head to the side. âDoes it matter?â She scans Sophieâs posture â the balled fists, the sharp breaths. Ryan sighs while reaching for the car door. âWe can regroup at yours, okay? If you come up with something better, then I promise we can go there too.â
She opens the passenger door and holds it out for Sophie. This is what they do. Deals and compromises have gotten them through months of working together. Give an inch one day, and give Ryan the keys to Sophieâs car another.
Sophieâs eyes squeeze shut, and Ryan smiles before Sophie gives in.
âFine.â
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So thatâs how Ryan ends up walking into Sophieâs apartment for the first time. It is ridiculously nice. Firm proof that the Crows are making way too much money in that private security business. Ryan used to be homeless, but Sophieâs got an open plan condo with a balcony.
Sophie only flips on a few lights, so itâs a bit dim, with a slight stream of moonlight filtering in from the blinds. Thereâs nothing but a rumble of Gotham from outside. It feels a lot more intimate than the sort of sterile environment Ryan imagined Sophie would have.
Ryan lingers near the door frame to take in the space. Impersonal things by the door like a shoe rack, some coat hooks with basic, black Crows blazers hanging, and a welcome mat thatâs most definitely from IKEA. Then thereâs a bouquet of tigerlilies haphazardly on the counter outside the kitchen. While they donât have to mean anything, the lesbian part of Ryan thinks of the movie âImagine Me & Youâ and figures Sophie bought them for Kate. Bought them to say, âremember me,â and âI wonât remember anything else.â
Ryan spots an empty vase on the entrance side table and picks it up. The flowers will need water. She heads into the kitchen to her right. Sophieâs already opening the cabinets.
âYou want a drink?â Sophie checks.
Ryan nods as she steps to the sink and flips the water on. She can feel the heat of Sophieâs eyes on her. Itâs easier if Ryan watches the water come in. Focuses on doing what she can to keep things from getting worse. She flips the sink off, then goes to settle in the flowers.
The silence between them isnât uncomfortable, but itâs also charged in a way that Ryanâs not sure what to do with. Is it just the night weighing on them? Or maybe sheâs projecting after today? When Kate had turned around and recognized Sophie immediately, when theyâd crossed the office like two reunited soulmates without a care in the world â itâs like a stone lodged in Ryanâs ribcage.
In the moment, Ryanâs shoulders cave in to compensate for it. Her breathing is harder, or not there at all. Her heartâŚ.
Ryan has no reason to react that way. Of course Kate would want Sophie back, just like sheâll probably want everything else back too. Ryan forces the thought away and goes back to checking out Sophieâs condo.
The flowers add a nice pop of color. The majority of the walls are covered in art. Ryan points to a bare spot. âSaving that for your rainbow flag? Lesbianism 101 says you need one.â
âIâll add it to my to-do list,â Sophie quips. She holds up a bottle of wine, and Ryan nods to accept it. Wine means theyâre not going back out. Good; Ryan really doesnât have it in her to fight with Sophie about searching again. Sophie uncorks and fills their two wine glasses.
Ryan bypasses the dining table to flop down onto Sophieâs couch. The aches in her body call out to her. She stretches slightly. A little curl of her back that feels amazing and nearly draws a sound out of her. This hero shit is not for the weak.
Sophie balances the glasses and the bottle on her way over to the couch. Ryan grabs a coaster that just barely fits the wine bottle and slides it to the center of the coffee table. Sophie smiles her thanks before setting that down and handing Ryan a glass. The tradeoff is so smooth that Ryan frowns. She doesnât remember when they got this good together.
Sophie lowers herself down on her end of the couch. Tugs her phone out of her back pocket and lays it on the table.
âMary probably needs you,â Sophie says. Itâs an out if Ryan wants one.
âProbably. But you got dibs.â Ryan sips her wine, and a surprised little moan comes from her at how good it is. Sophie grins.
âI donât remember calling for it.â
Ryan shrugs. âConsider it a âthank youâ then. You babysat me on the island, and IâŚâ
âBabysit me when Kate comes back?â Sophie finishes for her. Her voice sounds distant, like her mindâs not all here.
Ryan tilts her glass towards Sophie and stage-whispers, âIâm only in it for the wine.â
Sophie chuckles. âItâs good wine.â She sips hers. Holds it in her mouth a moment before swallowing. âTyler bought it. He took a lot of things when he left, but he left these.â
âHis loss,â Ryan says.
Sophie nods. She sits up straighter and makes a conscious effort to take in the room. âIâm living the dream, right? Beautiful apartment⌠beautiful woman⌠and me.â
She clearly doesnât believe in any of that. Her heartâs not in it. Sophie downs her glass. Ryan grabs the bottle so that she can refill it the moment that Sophie pulls the glass from her lips.
Ryan hums while she pours. âAs the beautiful woman in this scenario, I think you need to cut yourself some slack.â
âFor what?â
âFor having to start over, and doing it pretty well.â Ryan sets the bottle down as she talks. âWhen Ange and I broke up, I was a total disaster.â
Sophie tilts her head to the side. âWerenât you in Blackgate by then?â
Ryan nods. âYup, just Matrix dodging every single one of her calls.â
Sophie glances back down at her wine. âYeah, well, Tyler never called. He cleaned his stuff out and mostly sent emails after that.â
âAnd Kate? The first time, I mean. Did you two⌠talk after Point Rock?â
Ryan admittedly doesnât know much about what went down with Kate and Sophie. Maryâs told her enough â they were madly in love at the military academy, but when they got outed, Sophie chose to hide again. And Kate left. Itâs not really feeling that different from where they are now.
Sophie shakes her head. âWe didnât talk again until I got kidnapped and she became Batwoman. Itâs not a juicy story, I promise.â
âRight,â Ryan starts sarcastically, âbecause boring stories involve a kidnapping and a superhero origin story.â
Sophie laughs sarcastically. âThereâs really not much to say, Ryan. Kate and IâŚ. Itâs like the timing is never right. Like somethingâŚ.â She drinks. Admits, âSomethingâs always off.â
Ryan knows that feeling. Her and Ange never fully click either. Not romantically. It always breaks. At least this time, Ange might actually get her life together. Maybe Kate will too.
Sophie cringes. âShit, what am I saying? Iâm supposed to be positive right now. Hopeful. Excited.â She tries putting some of that into her voice, but it comes out flat and false.
âYou donât have to be anything,â Ryan says. âSophie Moore is enough.â
Sophie glances back to Ryan. Her eyes seem darker than before. It could be the lighting, or maybe just the sincerity of the conversation poking through. Thereâs something in her eyes though â something that makes Ryanâs heart skip a beat. Something warm beneath the pain and the weariness. But then Sophie blinks and sinks back against the couch. âWell, thank you⌠Ryan Wilder.â
Ryan sips to cover up her smile.
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The red wine might have been a miscalculation. Sophie downs her first few glasses as a way to forget. Forget how Kate had immediately recognized her. Forget the mourning and the confusion and the months of grieving someone whoâd been still here. But as she forgets, other feelings settle in. Other thoughts and realizations. Because someone was here throughout these last few months. Someone is still here, in fact, singing along softly to music from her cell phone.
âI canât believe youâve never heard this,â Ryan says. Her eyes are brighter than normal. Or maybe theyâre just closer than normal.
Sophie swats at Ryanâs arm. âDonât mock me! Youâre supposed to be helping me.â
âI am.â Ryanâs knee bumps into Sophieâs. âBut you have to relax. You know this is your place, right?â
âI am relaxed,â Sophie snaps. Ryan quirks a disbelieving eyebrow. Sophie huffs out, âI am.â
Ryan eyes Sophieâs tan blazer. âYou still have your jacket on.â
Sophie sets her wine down and meets Ryanâs eye while pulling her blazer off. Itâs a little hot and intense â her narrowed, challenging eyes as she loses a layer. Theyâre so much more level on a couch. Like a few weeks ago, when Ryanâs eyes had been soft on Sophieâs skin. Would her lips be soft? Her touch?
Sophieâs voice sounds a bit breathless. âHappy?â
Ryan maintains eye contact and takes off her own jacket. She tosses it behind her onto the floor. Itâs meant to make Sophie laugh. Meant to defuse some of the growing tension. Instead, it draws Sophieâs eyes to Ryanâs arms under the very thin flannel crop.
Sophie reaches out to touch the flannel above Ryanâs tank top. âI canât believe you work in this.â She plays with the collar between her fingers, and her knuckle brushes against Ryanâs partially exposed bra. Ryan wills her body not to react. Even as Sophieâs voice pitches lower. âMust be great for tips.â
The slight simmer in Sophieâs eyes burns into a raging fire as Ryanâs throat dries up.
Ryan clears her throat. âThat and my dazzling personality.â She flashes Sophie a playful smile. âA few words, and theyâreââ Sophie slides her hand up to Ryanâs neck. Ryan gulps. Sophie smirks.
âTheyâre what?â she teases. Ryan doesnât think itâs fair that Sophie could seem so lost one moment and so totally in control the next. Sophie shouldnât be able to turn the tables this quickly. This isnât what they do. They fight. They bicker. They push. Yet here Sophie is, teasing her slight nails on the back of Ryanâs neck.
Ryan shivers, and Sophie has never looked hotter. This boldness isnât exactly what Ryan envisioned when she told Sophie to get comfortable.
âSoph.â Itâs a breathless warning, and Ryan should have said her whole name. Should have made sure to keep the boundaries in tact. âThis night has been long enough.â
âIt could get longer.â
Ryan smirks. âIâm sure it could. But it wouldnât make you feel any better.â
Sophie chuckles, but she pulls her hand back into her own lap. âYouâre selling yourself short there, Wilder.â
Ryan laughs, but her chest is on fire. Her voice shakes. âWe are not talking about me. Weâre talking about you. And Kate.â The last word gets a very dissatisfied groan from Sophie. Ryan talks over it. âSheâll be back by tomorrow. No way sheâs staying away from all that.â She lets her eyes do a once-over to sell the teasing tone. Bounces her gaze right back to meet Sophieâs, but thereâs a seriousness there that makes Ryanâs smile fracture. âWeâll find her.â
âAnd then what?â Sophie asks. âYouâŚ.â She licks her lips, but itâs more of a nervous tick this time. A way to restart her thoughts rather than short-circuit Ryanâs. âIf Kate comes back, what happens to you?â
Ryan doesnât know. She admits, âI havenât thought about it yet. I mostly just thought about how everyone else would handle it. Like Luke and Mary.â
âAnd me?â
Ryan nods.
Sophie doesnât know what to feel; she knows what sheâs supposed to, but she alsoâŚ.
Her hand finds Ryanâs on the couch. âYou canât leave.â
Ryan misunderstands. She says, âIâll sleep right here; no worries.â
So Sophie scoots closer on the couch. âThatâs not what I meant.â
Ryan canât handle the intensity in Sophieâs eyes. Canât handle being only a few breaths away from each other. Theyâve barely been friends for five minutes, and now Ryanâs what? The rebound?
âYouâve felt it too, right?â Sophieâs hand is back on Ryanâs neck. She doesnât wait for a response. Just softly guides Ryan to her lips. Into a quick kiss that Ryan doesnât let herself enjoy. Doesnât let herself think about.
Then again, if Sophie wants this, who is Ryan to judge? Some people want hugs for comfort, and othersâŚ.
âRyan, please.â
For a split second, Ryan looks as gutted as Sophie feels. A rebound like this isnât even fun. Itâs selfish and horrible, and more than Sophie should ask for. More than Ryan should give her. But Sophie Moore has never asked for anything. And now all she wants is this. And if the pulse in Ryanâs ears is anything to go by, then Ryan wants it too.
Ryan kisses Sophie this time. Itâs soft and reassuring. Gentle. Ryan has never been gentle with Sophie before. She takes every opportunity to tell Sophie exactly what sheâs doing wrong. She lives for it.
Sophie kisses back harder. Tries to tell Ryan with her body that she needs more.
Ryan catches on, and she shifts, disconnecting their lips so she can get off the couch and climb onto Sophieâs lap. Sophieâs breathless, and Ryanâs eyes look so concerned. Sophie surges forward to kiss Ryan again.
Sophie stops thinking after that. Stops remembering and questioning and doubting. She loses herself in Ryanâs lips, in the nip of teeth on her neck, and Ryanâs thigh between her legs, then Ryanâs fingers. Itâs safe, and caring, and Ryanâs soft voice, reminding her, promising her, âIâve got you. Iâve got you,â as Sophie comes undone.
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end note: plenty of emotions here, but the screw the pain away trope is what made me want to post this. (fun fact: this has been saved as 'untitled angst sex fic' for damn near a year. there is technically a part two, but it gets more emotional so idk if y'all want it lol. let me know.) whatcha think?
The wait is nearly over. Join us on Twitter at 8PM ET on Wednesday, and we'll live tweet together during #TheFlash, in hopes of spotting @javicia as some version of Ryan Wilder. 2/8/22 is also the first day of #WildmooreWeek. Check out the prompts and join the celebration using #wmw23! See linktree for more info. #SaveBatwoman #Batwoman https://www.instagram.com/p/CoY4fC5MBti/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Back from beyond the grave just in time to post for Wildmooreweek. Been watching Batwoman since season two and iâm am obsessed with them. I donât remember the last time I've been so invested in a ship but these dumb black lesbians got me in my feelings...
I canât write for shit but since itâs song/quote day hereâs a Wildmoore playlist. I like to think of it as a chronicle of their journey so far through songs. Enjoy đ¤
summary: Pre-canon, in Crows interrogation, Ryan sips her coffee. Grins at it before setting it back down. "You got the sugars right too. You pay this much attention to all the girls, or am I special?" + read on ao3
notes: #WildmooreWeek, Day 4: quotes/song ~ inspired by the 2x05 quote, âSophie has hauled my ass in for questioning so many times she knows my damn coffee order.â
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Sophie kicks the door to the interrogation room closed behind her. The hot coffee in her hand barely even shifts. A normal person would applaud her great sense of balance, but Ryan Wilder isnât exactly normal. Ryan Wilder is⌠confusing. Fascinating. Thereâs more hope in her and earnestness than Sophieâs used to seeing in their repeat offenders. Call it Black girl intuition, or Sophieâs own hope shining through, but she figures thereâs gotta be more to Ryan Wilder than covering up somebody elseâs drug habit.
Ryanâs uncuffed for this interrogation â a show of faith for yet another non-violent detainment. Her eyes light up at the sight of the coffee. Maybe at the sight of Sophie too. Sophieâs definitely easier on the eyes than the rest of the Crows. You know, for a lesbian. Which, is what Ryan is. Or bi maybe. They havenât exactly gone through Ryanâs dating history in their last few interactions.
Sophie crosses the room to set Ryanâs coffee down. âI thought weâd skip to this part of the back and forth.â
Ryan glances down at the pitch black drink and says, "Non-daiââ
âNon dairy creamer, yeah." Sophie drops those onto the table from her other hand. "I'd put them in myself, but you'd probably accuse me of poisoning you."
Ryan appreciatively pours the little cups in her coffee. "I wouldn't put it past a Crow."
"Seriously, Ryan?"
Ryan sips her drink. Grins at it before setting it back down. "You got the sugars right too. You pay this much attention to all the girls, or am I special?"
"Is Angelique special?" Sophie asks. "Or are you throwing your life away for just anybody?"
Ryan quirks a brow instead of getting defensive. Itâs almost like progress. âWhy?â she asks, âYou jealous?"
Sophie huffs. "I'm trying to help you, Ms. Wilder."
"Back to Ms. Wilder. Wow, Soph, and I thought we were getting closer."
Sophie rolls her eyes to steady herself. She's been standing this whole time, but maybe if she sits down, she'll be less likely to get in Ryan's face. It's not even a violent urge. A violent one she could understand. But this.... She doesn't feel a lot. Not normally. And especially not for anyone who's breezing through the interrogation rooms.
She makes a point of saying it aloud. "I don't get close to criminals."
"I'm not a criminal," Ryan asserts. Her eyes harden. "I'm only here because your boys thought it'd be easier to haul me in when there a bunch of guys in the getaway car."
"Getting away from what?" Sophie asks.
Ryan squeaks, "I don't know!" She laughs, but the humor comes out ironic and exasperated. "I wasn't even in the area for more than five minutes. My van crapped out, so I was waiting on the bus. Some guys come running -- and I say guys to be gender neutral, I did not see them. I didn't even look up. I was on my phone, calling my girlfriend, when your boys thought I was involved. Want to talk about implicit bias?"
Sophie bites down a sigh. "I'd rather talk about your alibi for the actual crime."
"My van is my alibi. It's a good four blocks from where they picked me up. Battery's dead on the docks."
"Why didn't you call a tow?"
Ryan laughs again. "Do you know how much a tow costs? And then I'd have to pay to get my van out of the garage. And a teaching salary doesn't really cover extra repairs."
Sophie's eyes knit together. "You teach?"
"Martial arts." Ryan turns her cup in her hands on the table. "I'm probably better than you."
Sophie's turn to laugh. "I'm military trained."
"Street smarts versus book smarts."
"There's only one kind of smart."
"Don't say 'smart enough to stay out of trouble.'"
Sophie's cheeks warm. Ryan took the words out of her mouth, but she can't let Ryan know that. "No.... Smart enough... to make the right choice."
Ryan rolls her eyes.
"Listen, Soph--"
"Sophie." She corrects. "Agent Moore."
"Right. I still don't have a ride, and my girl's already at work. I really can't miss the last bus. So, can we skip to the part where you let me go?" She meets Sophie's eyes directly, and for a moment, all Sophie sees is those dark brown almost black eyes. Are they always that dark? What about when the light hits them? When the sun's shining and the sky's a rare bright blue?
Sophie drops her gaze down to the table. If Ryan needs a ride, well.... "You said your van is your alibi?" Sophie checks. Ryan nods. Sophie stands up and glances away before she can talk herself out of it. "Then let's go get your alibi."
Ryan scoffs. Sophie shifts her weight in a way she hopes doesn't feel nervous. She's not nervous. Why would she be nervous? She's given people rides before. It's part of the private security gig. They have nice cars even. Nicer than the van Ryan has probably. Nicer than the Subaru that Sophie's been eying but refusing to buy. (She might as well slap lesbian on her forehead if she starts driving that. And she's not. Not anymore. Not really.)
(And yet, the longer Ryan goes without responding, the harder Sophie's heart pounds. The sweatier Sophie gets under this too hot uniform suit, the drier her mouth gets.) Sophie licks her lips. Then circles them. Then huffs.
"It's a one time offer, Ms. Wilder. Do you want to get your van, or do you want to spend the night in holding while I go see for myself?"
Ryan studies her. Sophie knows because it feels like she's under a microscope. Her heart pounds even faster as her blood pumps with a refrain of sheknows sheknows sheknows. But then Ryan's eyes light up, even if her face stays skeptical.
"You got jumper cables?"
"I'm an adult," Sophie grumbles, "of course I have jumper cables." She turns her back to Ryan, and with that little bit of privacy, she relaxes with the overwhelming relief of the moment.
Ryan said yes.
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end author's note: gah, this might also need a part two. what happens at the van? Idk! it's meant to be canon compliant, but I also just wanna knoooooow.
got it from my mama (whoever she may be) // a Batwoman oneshot
summary: Jada says, âI wish I couldâve been Nia Wilder sometimes. You know, âRyanâs mom.ââ + read on ao3
notes: Wildmoore Week, Day Seven: headcanons/future. it's been amazing to see how much people wrote and created and shared this week. Congrats to @wildmooreweek on a great first go! alright, buckle up for some mother-daughter feelings! I fucking love these two.
+ just in case anyone doesnât know, a kitchen island is the counter in the kitchen when itâs not connected to anything. There are large islands, which are workplaces and open counter space. Pull up a stool/high-backed chair or two, and youâve got a great place to be.
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Ryan hums when she likes her food. A little groan from the back of her throat, a shimmy of her shoulders, and a flash of the smile that she inherited from her mother. Technically, she got it from her grandfather.
The original Ryan Jet had a smile that shone brighter than any South Gotham streetlight. A laugh so rich that it wrapped around everybody like a blanket. A heart so big that it couldnât quite fit in his chest. He had to help people. And so does his namesake. The helpfulness â Jada figures â well, it must have skipped a generation.
Jadaâs much too ambitious to waste her time helping everybody. She has people who do that for her. People who field her calls, tidy her home, and cook her meals for her. But for Ryan â Ryan Wilder, her Ryan â Jada finds herself back in the kitchen more often than not. It starts with making them teas for check-ins. Then making popcorn and little snacks for move nights in Jadaâs home theater. Then, itâs for moments like this â a home-cooked dinner for two in a house that could fit so many more, but finally feels full with Ryan by her side.
Thatâs much too sentimental to say out loud, so mostly, Jada tries to show it. She forgoes her usual business suits for a casual pair of house pants. She skips past her elegant dining room and sets their food on the island in the kitchen. She hasnât done that since Marquis was a teenager. Hasnât craved that closeness with someone.
Now, she savors it. Sits on one corner of the island while Ryan sits on the other, so their knees can bump as they face each other. So she can see what sheâs missed. That brings her back to her original thought â her starting point in all of this: Ryan hums when she likes her food, and Jada has no idea how long sheâs done that.
âYou like it?â Jada asks. Less for an answer and more for confirmation. She knows the stir fryâs delicious. Itâs her third attempt. A very well vetted chef coached her through it before she invited Ryan over to try. But she still wants to ask. Still wants to know.
Ryan nods and swallows down the bite before she opens her mouth. (She has great manners. Much better than Marquisâ used to be, but he did things just to spite Jada sometimes.)
âNow you know Iâll eat anything,â Ryan says, âbut this is better than anything Iâve got near me.â
âNear you or near Sophieâs?â Jada teases.
Ryanâs cheeks darken just a little. She pushes her food with her fork. âNear me. We donât⌠order in much at Sophieâs.â
Translation: either Sophieâs a better cook, or they spend most of their time at Ryanâs loft. Judging by the way Ryanâs face continues to flush, it must be the second. Mary probably doesnât love that. Probably feels displaced sometimes, unless the girls time it well with her shifts at her clinic. They seem like the type to figure it out though. Find balance in a constantly toppling world.
Jada sips her wine rather than responding. It makes Ryan squirm a little.
Ryan says, âAlright, change of subject, please. Youâve been pretty quiet. Whatcha thinking?â
âYour smile, itâs like mine, butâŚ. God, itâs just like your grandfatherâs.â Jada hasnât talked about him much with Ryan. She doesnât want to scare the girl away with childhood stories and too many anecdotes. âHe had half this city in love with him. You should have seen the ladies at the supermarket.â
Ryan smiles again, and Jada adds, âKind of like the girls at your bar whenever we stop in there. Just a chorus of âHi, Ryan. Good morning, Ryan. Ryan, look over here.ââ
âItâs not that bad,â Ryan lies, but theyâve all seen the effect. Ryan quirks a brow. âYou were probably just as bad though. Donât lie.â
Itâs Jadaâs turn to smirk and grin. Her eyes shine with the memories of the way the boys at business school bent to her every whim. They still do, if she asks. âYou had to get it from somewhere.â
Ryan giggles. âSo you were a flirt?â
âI was friendly,â Jada corrects. Ryanâs little sarcastic hum disagrees. Jada knows this train could go somewhere sheâs not ready to go. Talk of her husband, and Ryanâs father. They should have that conversation one day, but there are so many others they should have first. Ryanâs favorite color and favorite pastime. Yellow and being an unregulated superhero would be Jadaâs guesses, but is she right? What else is there to know? What else has she missed?
âHey,â Ryan breaks the train of thought. Her brows knit together softly. âWhereâd you go?â
Which answer is safer?
Jada raises her wine to her lips, but pauses with the rim to her bottom lip. âI donât know, IâŚâ couldâve known Ryan sooner, if sheâd gone back. Or if sheâd stuck to the little dream life they couldâve had. If Jada had taken the two million and her daughter and ran, had stayed under that other name. âI wish I couldâve been Nia Wilder sometimes. You know, âRyanâs mom.ââ
Little house in the suburbs, or a cramped apartment like the one Jada grew up in. The clatter of barrettes and the slight singe of a flat iron on a school morning.
Ryan rebuts, âYou are my mom.â
Jada shakes her head. âYou know what I mean, Ryan. Iâ we couldâve celebrated birthdays and first dates and⌠all of it. Together.â
Ryan takes Jada's hands. "We've got plenty more birthdays. And I can tell you about my first date. Ange snuck us into the movie theater but bought a big bucket of popcorn because she wanted to do that 'hold hands in the popcorn bucket' thing from TV. It was mad corny, and we got butter all over our hands and laughed about it."
What did Ryan look like at thirteen? How were her hair and her clothes? How was her heart?
Jada does the same thumb rub that Ryan does so often. Wills her voice to sound lighter, less⌠like a heavy heel on a metal grate. No echo, no hollowed-out reverb. âSounds lovely.â It sounds like Jada wants to be there. Like she can close her eyes and peer back into that theater if she just tries hard enough.
Ryan rocks their hands to draw Jada's eyes back up to hers. "You wanna know about a first date you were a part of?â Jada hums her curiosity. Ryan ducks her head to make sure Jada stays with her for a moment. âMine and Sophie's."
That doesnât make sense. They were already together by the time they met Jada. âBut you saidââ
"She said. Then I agreed." Ryan shrugs with a smile that gets wider by the second. "We lied. But that disastrous dinner at your place was our first date. Asked her to be my backup, but come on, you saw what she wore." Jada chuckles. Push-up bra, lowest cut dress anyone has dared wear to meet a parent. Ryan laughs too. "Never thought I'd take a girl home for the first date but, first time for everything, right?"
The first time Ryanâs referred to Jadaâs house as home. Jada smiles, and it sparks in her eyes. âThatâs some first date.â
âUnfortunately for you, pretty sure Iâm not having another of those any time soon.â
Jada really smiles then. âDoes that mean Iâm planning a wedding?â Ryan reels back, and Jada uses their hands to tug her forward again. âIâm kidding. Weâve got to get your girl to like me first.â
âKeep showing up. Worked for me.â
âI can do that.â More dinners, more breakfasts, more excuses to come âround to the loft or take the girls shopping. âI want to do that.â
âGood.â Ryan squeezes their hands before letting go. She grabs her fork like theyâve settled something. Maybe itâs a pact, or a promise. Maybe itâs just the idea that they can talk about these other things that they need to discuss. When theyâre ready and when they make the time. âBecause Iâm gonna need you to make this again soon. Like, tomorrow.â
âTomorrow? Whatâs tomorrow?â
âNothing important, but your TV is so much bigger than mine, and the new Love is Blind drops at midnight.â
Jada has no idea what that means, but if itâll get Ryan here, then sheâll get the ingredients. âJust you or will your friends be joining you?â
Ryan laughs. âEverybodyâs coming. Weâre gonna make so much noise, and yell at the TV. Youâll see exactly what itâs like to be âRyanâs mom.ââ
âLoud?â Jada jokes. Ryan cheeses over at her, and Jada smiles back. âI canât wait.â
âOkay, now tell me more about you being a flirt. Donât think I forgot about that. I wanna hear all about it.â
đŚ
end author's note: I love them so much. okay, let's chat. whatcha feeling?