“I will ask you only one time but you must be truthful in your answer or else you will not be healed, do you understand? Good. Do you, Anita, wish to be healed?”

The young woman brings her gaze up to look at the older woman’s face as she waits for her response. It felt like she had no other option. She didn’t have money for proper treatments nor did she live in a big city where doctors were easily obtainable. This woman who had claimed to be a mystic healer was her last resort and from the stories she had heard about her, she sounded like the real deal who could heal her.

“Yes, Healer. I do.”

She grins; all teeth as she brings out a pretty purple glass vial for the young woman to drink. The liquid appears clear behind the tinted glass and the audience oohs and aahs before they fall silent to watch the young, sick woman drink the mysterious ailment given to her by Healer Inez.

Agatha watches as the young woman drinks every last poisoned drop before she hands back the glass vial. Agatha watches her with a trained eye to make sure the poison doesn’t kill her right away. It doesn’t. Jen was still on her side for this little scheme.

Anita turns to face the crowd and beams; flexing her fingers and rolling her shoulders back. The crowd explodes in a loud cheer and a chant about ‘where there is darkness there is light’ over and over again until Agatha feels like it’s time to slink back behind the stage with the young woman in toe. She faces the stage as well as Healer Inez and gives the people a slight nod and curt wave of her hand before she finds Anita’s and clasps her own in hers as she walks her off of the stage. No rushing, no urgency. All is well and you have been healed! Just like my posters and flyers promised!

At the turn of the curtain, Agatha needs to catch Anita in her arms as she passes out from the poison. She’s not dead, not yet. Agatha wanted that to be clear when she offered Jen a pretty price to keep her magical healing tonic non-lethal on the first dose. Agatha wanted to merely play with her food before eating it.

Agatha places the young woman down on the ground and watches the curtain close; listens to the murmur of the crowd beyond it. She would have to count her entrance fees after along with the tips that come around not unlike the pass around of the communion plate. Some of her earnings would have to go to Jen but who cares, she needed that poison to sell herself as Healer Inez: Where there is darkness there is light.

Besides, using the name Agnes had started getting old and people were getting suspicious.

Agatha departs for her dressing room and sits herself down in front of her vanity table. The lights no longer work it in but that’s no issue. With a flick of her wrist, her purple illuminates the mirror and allows her to look at her own face. Agatha Harkness, the most powerful witch from Salem was here in bum-fuck nowhere scamming sick people with the promise of healing tonics and cleansing crystals all for a buck. There had to be some way to put food on the table and right now, this had become Agatha’s best bet.

No one was the wiser.

The purple light from her vanity mirror shifts in the air around her; over her. It travels until it reaches the young woman on the floor and enters her like a needle point. Just enough juice to keep her alive to show the hungry congregate that Healer Inez was no fraud. Sure, young Anita would look a little tired but that was the power of healing, wasn’t it? You always got worse before you got better.

Agatha laughs to herself under her breath as she reapplies her lipstick. Another great benefit of doing a con for so long was that she understood how to gain the trust of strangers. Look and sound put together and they’d be wrapped around your little finger until you said go.

Then they would do anything; give up everything just for some false sense of power.

“What did you try treating this one for, Agatha?”

As sharp as a knife, Jennifer Kale’s voice cuts in the small dressing room. Agatha looks at Jen from the mirror's reflection and takes in the way she’s got her arms crossed over her chest. Agatha laughs again, this time louder as she makes a final touch up of her makeup before slowly standing from her velvet bench.

“Oh, I didn’t ask. Do I really need to know what I’m treating when,” Agatha’s voice changes as she brings it higher and with more grandiose, “Healer Inez can cure every ailment under the sun!”

Agatha hears the disgusted noise fall from Jennifer’s mouth as the potions witch takes a step around the young woman still left on the floor. She stops, just for a second, to hear the sure but shallow breathing. She shakes her head and without even having to look at Agatha from across the room, Jennifer knows Agatha has a smile on her face.

“This is it, Agatha. Whatever tonic you have left, that’s it.”

“It’s not it, Jen and you know it.”

“I’m serious, Harkness. I’m through.”

Agatha laughs out loud; a cackle in the end of it as her head is thrown back and she looks at the dilapidated ceiling. She can feel Jennifer seething in anger and disgust and the knowing that she was aiding in killing her kind. Their kind. And for what?

“You’re not through, Kale. And you’ll never be. You need to survive this world just as much as I do. Sure, we could be at each other’s throats for survival, domination…but isn’t it just easier that you’re my dealer and I give you a portion of our earnings? I think so.”

Agatha watches as Jen’s arms uncross and fall to her side. There’s pain in her eyes and Agatha knows hers would look the same if she hadn’t told herself over and over again that everything she was doing was to live another day; to become a stronger witch. Not to mention the benefits she got from Rio but that was another story.

Right now, it was just her and Jennifer Kale.

“Why don’t you watch my shows?”

Agatha’s question hung sloppily between them and Jennifer could tell right away that she was deflecting her own disappointment. Sure, she was doing all of this for personal gain but the fact that Jen refused to watch people fall victim was by her own decision. If Agatha hadn’t tried so hard not to sound pathetic, Jen wouldn’t have even bothered to answer her.

“Because we could be doing something beneficial with our magic but you always succumb to this. The lowest fucking rung on the goddamn pole. Why? Why do you just…reach so low, Harkness? Scared of actually being a great witch?”

Agatha shakes her head as she moves towards Jen. She can feel the tension between them; crackling like a lightning strike. Tension in the air just like the atmosphere before a rainstorm. Agatha juts out her chin and looks Jen in the eyes,

“You’re hanging on to the same low-level rung just like me, Jen. Don’t you ever fucking forget it.”

The silence grew between them like a heavy fog until the young woman on the floor started to groan. The poison was getting to her and was acting fast.

“Help her, Agatha. Now.”

Jen’s order was met with a sneer from Agatha. If she could growl, she would. She blows an irritated huff out through her mouth as she steps past Jen; shoulder knocking Jen’s purposefully just to piss her off a little bit more. Everything was meant to rile the other up; a fucked up game they liked to play until one or the other eventually folded.

Jen turned so she could watch the growing purple trail leave Agatha’s fingertips to move down towards their victim. Agatha filled her up with some more power to keep her alive just a little bit longer. She couldn’t have the young woman die just yet. Agatha needed to prove to the surely growing crowd tomorrow that there was truth in her healing.

“Happy now, Jen? She’ll be fine here…”

The potions witch shook her head as she took one last look at the woman on the floor before she headed towards the stairs that lead to the exit of the makeshift stage Agatha had erected in the middle of an empty field. It was easier to continue their scam in the country where people didn’t know better; had less access to information. If only these poor fools knew the kind of snake oil saleswoman Agatha Harkness was.

—

The tiny single room hut Agatha has pilfered off of their first victim acted as both their shelter and where Jen concocted the poison to do their deeds.

The potions witch was busy with her herbs laid out on the uneven wooden table; glass vials and mortar and pestle at the ready. Agatha lounged back on the single bed with her hair tossed over her shoulder and nothing else on but a loose men's button up pajama top left unbuttoned. She wanted Jen to stop and stare at her and give in to her desires; to the pull of attraction that bordered murderous.

For that was what they were, psychic healers that were taking 1972 by the storm. Everything was cool and free and possible. Love could heal all as could a crystal hung around one's neck. Slap the word tonic onto anything and you had a sucker emptying their wallet into your lap without a word.

Jen knew it. Agatha knew it. And together, they were two peas in a pod that preyed upon the innocent just to stay alive a little bit longer.

Jennifer moved slowly on purpose; not wanting to fall into Agatha’s arms just yet. She could make that witch sit and stew longer; for eternity if she had the choice. She was awful and selfish and didn’t care about women or witches. She wanted power; more and more of it until it eventually made her empty. She had no remorse for what she did and the many lives she took. She didn’t care how many families she destroyed and how many children she allowed to become orphans without their mothers. All Agatha wanted was want. More and more, wanting and needing until she was so full of herself that Jen could see right through her facade.

And yet, the potions witch still fell into bed beside Agatha every single night and tonight, would be no different. She was still bound and she still needed to survive. Places out here in the middle of nowhere with tight communities made it hard for Jen to be a midwife. Everyone trusted the same women who had been delivering babies for years but for her to step into this sacred and secured place, it simply put these young mothers off. Who was Jen for them to trust around their unborn babies?

“You’re not seriously over there waiting for me to come into bed, are you, Harkness?”

Jen doesn’t look up from her concoction as she mashes down the herbs into the mortar. She can hear Agatha huff and shift against the bed frame; the old rusting metal squeaking under her weight.

“If you think this is some…goddamn domestic play you’re performing for me, I’m not falling for it. Just say you want a warm body, Agatha.”

Another low blow but Jen didn’t care. Agatha was a big girl and could handle the truth. This is what she wanted, wasn’t it? No actual connection between any of her kind. She would use them and then toss them away when it no longer benefited her. Jen assumed sex was the same, she knew her and Agatha wouldn’t be much more after this scheme of theirs ran dry.

“Oh Jen, don’t you think you’ve made enough poison to kill all those young women for tonight? Come on, Kale…come to bed…”

Jen scoffed, shook her head and put down her tools of the trade. The mortar hit the wooden table with a thud and Agatha lifted her head and eyes to stare at Jen. It was then that the potions witch finally looked across the room and over at Agatha. She had taken her pajama top off and had discarded it to the floor beside the bed.

She could leave; pack up whatever possessions she had here and get back into town, into a big city where she would feel safe. She could find her people again; women just like her who accepted her and treated her right. She could walk right past Agatha and out that door that was crooked on its hinges; past the makeshift stage and hail a car and never see Agatha Harkness again.

Or, she could slide into bed and lift up the hem of her cotton knit dress and find herself between Agatha’s legs.

“I thought you were leaving,” Agatha huffs as she reaches forwards; fingers grabbing the hem of Jennifer’s dress as she roughly hikes it up past Jen’s thighs. She does her best to caress against the pantyhose that covered Jen’s legs. Would she push her away if she ripped through them? Skin to skin to heighten their connection?

“Don’t push it, Harkness,” Jen hisses through her clenched teeth as she leans forwards, towards Agatha. She brings her right hand out to push Agatha back onto the bed. The springs make her bounce and she loses her grip on Jen’s dress. Jennifer laughs and moves in closer; sits down a little bit harder onto Agatha’s leg. She doesn’t need to peel off her pantyhose or lift her dress up over her head. She could get off and use Agatha just like this.

She had done it already so many times before; almost every night had been just like this.

Bound or not, Jennifer still had some dominance over Agatha Harkness. She knew it was because Agatha needed her and wouldn’t dare push her so over the edge that Jen wouldn’t help her any longer. She needed Jennifer to survive, even if she wouldn’t admit it. If Jen wanted to push her around in bed and use her without giving Agatha an inch, Agatha would allow her to do so.

“That’s it, Witch Killer…you just lay there and look pretty and desperate for me. You can do that, right? Mystic Healer of my dreams?”

Jen grinned at the moan she got out of Agatha and the flush that covered her face. Writhing and rolling her hips upwards towards Jen, the potions witch couldn’t help but to laugh at the sight underneath her. Agatha hated everyone and yet would do anything for some companionship. She craved it just as badly as she craved killing.

“You like that, Witch Killer? You like being used? I bet it feels nice to let the tables turn…”

“Oh…god, Jen…”

Agatha felt the sinking of Jennifer’s body down onto hers as she straddled Agatha’s left thigh. She could feel wetness through the pantyhose fabric and onto her leg. Just as much as Jen was getting Agatha off, she was just as turned on about this whole fucked up mess they had gotten themselves into with one another.

Jennifer buckled down as she fell into a rhythm of back and forth, grinding down to feel that beautiful almost numbing sensation of her clit against her underwear; against her pantyhose and the warmth of Agatha’s thigh. The friction was beautiful, delicious. Maybe a warm body was better than no body; a bunch of blankets and pillows between her legs instead.

The rocking was met with Agatha’s hands reaching out in front to grab onto Jen once more; fingers finding edges of Jennifer’s dress to merely pinch and hang onto. She let her mouth hang open and breathed hard; slips of moans and whines escaped and her brows furrowed as she felt her own arousal between her legs. Agatha’s clit throbbing against nothing; no relief against friction. Sure, she could touch herself or grab Jen’s hand to use her fingers. She could have left her own underwear on to feel them soak and have the cotton rub against her skin.

But, Agatha liked torturing herself just as much as she liked torturing others. It made the pleasure almost sweeter somehow.

“...Can you feel that, Witch Killer?...Unraveling…falling apart?...”

Agatha sighs something pretty and Jen can feel her heart breaking. There had always been whispers about Agatha Harkness being a succubus; artificial sweetness to pull you in and make you drowsy before she came for the kill. But, god, the sounds this woman made underneath her.

“Are you…going to kill that woman tomorrow, Agatha?”

She can’t help it; moaning at Jen’s question as she bucks her hips upwards to let her thigh dig into Jennifer’s skin. She watches through half-lidded eyes as Jen collects herself; stops herself from falling forwards. She watches the disgusted look appear on Jennifer’s face as the moan was more than enough of an answer for her.

That young, sick woman would die just like all the other ones before her. A surge of healing from Agatha before she turned that magic around and used it to drain every last drop of life from her. It would happen again and again; a cycle too ugly to bear. Agatha knew, as she reached forward once more for Jennifer, that she would still be by her side until this dwindled down. Healing tonic would be passed from Jen’s hands into hers and coin would be passed from Agatha’s hands to Jen’s.

They completed a broken, upsetting cycle.

The detective takes one look out through the kitchen window and she realizes it's go time.

She didn't know how long this nice weather that the weather network boasted about would last so in hindsight, she had taken out two steaks to barbecue and even picked up a four pack of corn, even though they were out of season.

False spring was a rare thing in Westview and by the looks of it, Agnes was even pushing for false summer. She opened up the fridge and took out the steaks she had left in there overnight to defrost as well as the pack of corn. Balancing it in one hand, she grabbed two beers with her other.

Thankfully you had left the door to the backyard open so Agnes only had to push her way through the screen door.

You heard her sigh loudly at the weather as she stepped into the sunlight; her faded band tee looking extra worn. You swore you could see right through it.

Maybe that wasn't totally a bad thing.

You were out in the middle of the law in one of your folding camping chairs. One of Agnes' muscle shirts you had stolen and a pair of cut-off jeans had been your outfit of choice to soak up some sun. Despite the sunglasses that perched on your nose, you knew Agnes could tell that you were staring at her. It was kind of hard not to when the chair was facing the opposite way and you had to turn your head in her direction.

You watched her as she put the food down and opened up the grill. Fiddling with dials and trying to rip open the packages of steak with her teeth. You couldn't help but to huff away a laugh. Sometimes she was a total bonehead and all in all, it made you want her more.

"Who's winning over there, Babe? You or the steaks?"

You shout from your seat as a full smile blooms across your face. You give her a cute little wave as you put your left leg over your right. Agnes looks in your direction and rolls her eyes as she spits away a chunk of plastic she had managed to tear off. With the grill ready and warmed up, Agnes throws the steaks on. She watches them sizzle away for a little bit before she closes the lid. Turning her head slightly to her side, barely looking over her shoulder she calls back to you,

"You just sit over there and look pretty!"

She can hear you laugh at her response. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, she picks up the beer she had brought out, one in each hand, and makes her way over to you with her right arm slightly extended in front of her. Your own hand comes out to take the cold beer from Agnes. You make sure that as you do so, your fingers graze over hers.

"Thanks, Handsome..."

She watches as you pop down the cap on the armrest of the chair and bring the bottle to your lips. She can't see your eyes through your sunglasses but you can most definitely peer into Agnes'. She would basically be salivating if her mouth wasn't closed; lips pulled in a tight pout.

You wanted to bite her bottom lip so badly whenever she did that.

"Cat got your tongue, Detective?"

You test her as you hold your beer, wrist rolling slightly, slowly. You uncross your legs and bring up your left leg. Foot pointed towards her until you move your ankle to make your foot flat against the air.

You press it against her crotch and watch in real time as all the air in her lungs comes out. You see the twitch of her fingers as she almost drops her bottle but catches herself; rolls her shoulders back. Her free hand comes down to grab a hold of your sandal. She doesn't push herself away or press herself in. Accepting her fate, she licks her lips before responding,

"Nope. My tongue is pretty free to use right now..."

"Is that so?"

Agnes tilts her head to the side as she thinks. She gives you a small smile, no teeth. You can tell she's debating hard on what to do next.

"Pretty sure all the neighbors are out in their backyards right now..."

You scoff instantly as you take another swig of your drink. Nodding your head as you pull it away from your lips, your words fall from your mouth,

"As if they haven't seen and heard everything already, O'Connor."

You watch as the detective continues to crumble right before you. The slow movements as she surrenders. She hands you over her beer and you pull your foot away. Watching her as she slowly lowers until she's kneeling before you and the chair, it's your turn to hold your breath.

"You know I won't be able to hold onto our drinks...I'm going to need to grab at your hair."

Agnes shakes her head and closes her eyes and allows her mind to wander to the mental image of that; the way you find the base of her ponytail and pull. Of course she wants that; always does when it comes to you.

"Here, give me those then..."

Her hands come up to take the bottles away from you. She moves them away from her, at her side as she tips them upside down to drain them. She lets the bottles fall to the grass.

While she was busy with that, your hands had moved quickly to undo the button of your shorts; pull down the zipper along with it. You push your lower body a little forward as you sink in your chair.

You want this fast and quick, no time to work you up to a desire you can no longer contain.

Low on her knees, Agnes spots the way your shorts hang open around your hips. She literally lips her licks as her hands move forward to grab the edge of the seat. The back of her hands brushing against the sides of your thighs.

"Come here, Baby..."

The detective lets go of the chair as she moves her hands up your thigh to get to the waist of your shorts. She doesn't have to do much to peel them away from you; exposing a little bit more of the black lace underwear underneath the denim. She sucks in her breath as her finger hooks underneath the elastic. The knuckles of her fingers brushing against your warm skin and tickled by your hair. You suck in a deep breath and quickly look around.

None of your neighbors, as you could see, were at their windows or peering through the slits in the fence.

She hooks it as far as she can in this position, in this angle. You try to help her as you move your hips; slightly lift up from the seat. Agnes' fingers graze across your folds as she pulls away a little further before her head is bowed and before you can realize it, her lips are pressed against you.

Your body turns rigid at the impact and you want to bend your knees and curl them up into your chest but Agnes is planted right between them. Solid and heavy as ever; there's no way she would move an inch. Roots planted deep, she wasn't going to move anytime soon until you were both satisfied.

What else could you do now but reach out for her? Hands falling on top of her head and the messy bed of hair pulled back into an even messier ponytail. You find that elastic that barely holds it contained and wrap her hair around your hand. One twist and then a half. You give it a yank and Agnes literally snarls against you as she pushes her nose deeper.

Your body moves before your brain does as you grind your hips towards Agnes' face. You want her as deep as you can; egging her to do so. You feel her breath against you; in and out. Taking in your scent, catching her breath. Agnes moves down just a little and you feel the wet of her tongue.

"Oh...god..."

The laps are slow and precise; moving in between your folds and up towards your clit. You can feel yourself throb each time Agnes' tongue passes over the bundle of nerves and you pray to god she can feel it. She only teases to dip the tip of her tongue deep inside of you; too busy still licking you up.

"Please," you find yourself begging under your breath as you pull her hair just a little tighter, "Agnes, please..."

You swear you hear her grunt under her breath as she dips down again; the slowest drag path from your clit down. You shudder against the chair despite the heat of the day; your skin feeling prickly with sweat.

Agnes' tongue breaches your opening; tastes you. You're already soaked and can feel Agnes' chin wet against the curve of your body as she pushes deeper.

Your sigh is loud; shaky. Your upper body writhes in pleasure and your brow knits close. You have to remind yourself to breathe, to take it easy. Opening your eyes slowly, you turn your head towards the house.

"Oh fuck!"

Your hand lets go of Agnes' ponytail as you try to push your body up in the chair. Agnes quickly pulls away and looks love drunk. The evidence all over her face; lips and chin and the tip of her nose wet.

She follows the direction you're looking and realizes what has spooked you.

Black smoke, thick and billowing fast from the barbecue.

"Well fuck me!" Agnes pushes herself up from the lawn; wobbly on her legs as she moves quickly across the lawn. You're left in your seat, uncomfortably wet with your shorts and underwear pulled down. The warm summer breeze makes you shiver as you feel the wetness on your skin.

Agnes opens up the lid and pokes at the steaks with her tongs. You hear her curse again and watch as she shakes her head. She closes the lid with a bang and turns to face you.

"We can always just go and get a burger, Babe..."

You hear her laugh as she nods her head at your suggestion before shaking it. How the hell had she forgotten the steaks burning away on the grill?

"Do you even know how long it took me to convince her to come out of the house to finally meet all of you guys?"

Agnes snorts through her nose at your confession as her tongue and teeth and lips roll the toothpick from left to right. She had no choice but to sit across from you as your friends all slid into the booth. Agnes had wanted nothing more than to be right beside you tonight with her heavy yet sturdy hand placed possessively on the top of your thigh.

Now, she had to settle for across the table with a wet toothpick between her teeth just to keep herself satiated.

The table had burst into small chatter and laughter at your words until it settled down and waited for Agnes to give her side of the story. You look across the table at your girlfriend and raise your eyebrows at her, egging her on silently.

The detective plucks the toothpick from her mouth just to speak; just to seem as someone with some form of manners. She clears her throat and moves her gaze around the table quickly so none of your friends feel left out in her explanation,

"You know how detective work is...I can never find the right time to slip away and hang out at bars."

Your friends laugh and chatter again, heads nodding at the hardships of work and having an ounce of alone time. Agnes feels satisfied with her answer and lifts the toothpick back up to bite back down once more. The wet and soft wood feels pulpy against her chapped lips. Her gaze finds yours and the two of you share a glance that's neither hostile nor friendly. Just a matter of fact.

Work sucks and I don't really like meeting new people but I love you and these are your friends so here I am now, trying to keep myself friendly as I keep my mouth occupied.

"Shit...sorry..."

Agnes blurts out as the toothpick falls from her mouth as her hands come up to pat the pockets of her jacket pocket. No lighter, no cigarettes. She swears under her breath as she looks up, defeated in every sense of the word. One of your friends a person down from you catches Agnes' frantic movement that's something is missing,

"Do you need a smoke? A light?"

The table drops to a lull; eavesdropping in on Agnes. Your friends had been curious about your girlfriend for a long time and mere phone calls and text messages weren't enough to fill their curiosity about the older woman you had been dating. She had come across as mysterious and your relationship wasn't something flaunted in most places. You felt generous whenever you shared a picture of yourself with Agnes to your friend groups text chain.

And of course, it was never because you were embarrassed of what you had with her. It was far from that. You two were so good you didn't want anyone else to cause any inch of strain between you both. Luck was besides the point; you felt like you had won the lottery when it came to Agnes O'Connor.

Agnes places her hands on top of the table and shakes her head, shrugs her shoulders as if she was bringing upon a huge inconvenience onto your friend. She picks up the toothpick that fell and puts it into her empty glass; her jaw rolling as she tries to massage out the muscle,

"Nah...trying to quit actually...it fucking sucks."

Your friend laughs as they still reach into their pocket however, taking out a pack of gum instead. They hand over Agnes a stick and watch as she folds back the silver wrapped before popping the white strip past her lips. A quick comment about smoking and how much of a bitch it's been to stop comes up and Agnes just nods along and focuses on the gum between her teeth.

You've been watching this interaction all the while as you take another slow sip of your drink. You're mesmerized by the way Agnes' jaw moves; how the muscles flex not only on her cheek but at her neck as well. Tensing and relaxing, you can tell she's slightly on edge but not overly uncomfortable. She doesn't like meeting new people, never mind a whole group of them.

"So, any gory cases you're working on, detective?"

Another one of your friends chimes up as she takes a bite of her fries you had all gotten to share. Her eyes are wide with interest, one hand holding up under her chin as she stares in Agnes' direction. You watch as your girlfriend starts chewing just a little harder on her gum; the cogs working behind her eyes as she tries to separate what she can and cannot say about her job.

"Uh...mostly just, missing cases is what they got me doing. I have a knack for finding people, I guess..."

"Just like you found our girl here!"

The table erupts in cheering and hollering; a whistle is even thrown in for good measure and you watch as the blush creeps up from Agnes' neck to her tensed cheeks. The gum chewing starts up even faster, harder.

You interject to help Agnes out; knowing this had already been a feat for her to come here. You had been asking her for months to come out and meet your friends. You knew how hard it was for her to deal with her own personal things; fears and shame and guilt that crept up on her even when it wasn't deep in the night. The horrors of the day ate away at her just as much.

But, to your surprise, last week when you had asked her to come out with you and all of your friends she had said yes. You didn't know what the change was or why, but you had noticed that she had been a little bit more protective over you within that week. And although Agnes always had good manners around you, she had been acting just a little more chivalrous.

Which was, in its own right, almost crazy because it was one of the reasons you had fallen for her the moment you had interacted with her many months ago.

'Alright, alright! Who wants another round?"

Your friends chimed in with their orders on top of another request for another basket of fries. Shuffling down the booth, your friends let you out so you can make your way over to the bar.

You felt it before you even saw it that Agnes had signaled her release as well as she made your friends slide down the forever-sticky vinyl so she could follow right behind you. She sidled up just as quickly as you both leaned against the bar top; Agnes' left hand pressed flat against the small of your back as she stood behind you so closely you could feel her breath on the back of your neck,

"I don't think your friends like me."

You laugh as the waiter comes up and you rattle off the table's order plus the extra basket of fries. He turns away and the second he does, you turn your head ever so slightly so Agnes can hear you,

"Why do you think that, Babe?"

You see from the corner of your eye as she shrugs but the hand on your lower back doesn't read off as fear. She's very, very not afraid or intimated by this.

You bet, in this moment, your table of friends are watching you both and eyeing the way Agnes' hand seems to dip lower with each second.

"I'm not really giving them any clear answers to their questions...they're gonna think I'm just some mysterious dyke that keeps you at home all the time."

You laugh again but this time fall back against her chest; feel her breathing and the softness of her breasts against your spine. You know she has that wad of gum pressed into the top of her back molars.

"Maybe you just gotta keep showing them what you mean instead of telling them who you are..."

And with that, you purposefully press just a little harder into her and confirm, despite having a sinking suspicion, that your girlfriend had indeed packed tonight. Both her armor and her libido were up.

The detective didn't respond except for a deep grunt and a playful squeeze of your ass before her hand came up to help you carry the drinks and fries back to the table. Agnes could feel everyone's eyes on her; more than they were on you. She had been the one to initiate contact in a public space; wandering hands and body language that easily bordered on sexual.

Your group of friends slide down to allow you both to take your new seats on the edges of the booth, still across from one another. The drinks are all passed around and the basket of steaming french fries is placed in the middle of the cluttered table. You settle in with your drink which is purposefully topped off with a maraschino cherry, stem and all.

Agnes grabs a napkin with one hand to spit out her gum while her other grabs at her fresh bottle of beer. The napkin is wadded up and left alone so she can bring her bottle up to her lips and tip it back.

You watch Agnes with all the intensity in the world; the way the tip of her tongue pokes out into the opening of the bottle before it pulls back to allow her lips to do most of the work.

You catch her eye just over the glass as it slowly comes back down and the ale inside sloshes around; foam and bubbles appearing and disappearing by the jerky movements.

"Agnes has a hidden talent she just loves showing off in bars..."

Your words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them and the rest of the table goes quiet, save for the sipping on drinks. You watch as Agnes white-knuckles her beer and shoots you an amused look before laughing against the rim, her lips finding the glass once more as she takes another pull of her drink.

The table waits for some sort of explanation from either of you.

So you take the plunge as you dip your pointer and thumb into your glass to retrieve the cherry.

You hold it out before you like a prize; something honored in dive bars that only a select few have the honor of obtaining.

"She can tie a knot with the stem just by using her tongue."

The beer sloshes from Agnes' bottle into her mouth just a little too quickly and she's left with trying to hold in a cough.

The table waits with anticipation as Agnes, slowly puts down her drink and gently pushes it out of her own way on the table to rest her forearms down instead.

The two of you are at a standoff; all eyes and quirks of the lip that tug to the right or left. No words are spoken but you can tell Agnes keeps squirming in her seat. You wonder what those mental gymnastics look like inside of her head.

Agnes wonders what it would look like if her tongue was able to tie knots elsewhere; fuck a damn garnish on an overpriced drink.

"I think I'm gonna need a smoke before I attempt that one...care to join me?"

The table lets go of their held breaths for sighs of disappointment. It was too good to be true to find out that this mysterious woman was not also a detective, but a bar magician in her own right.

Agnes slinks from the seat until she's up on her feet again, hands shoved into the pocket of her jacket. She hadn't taken it off, you now notice, a flighty little thing. You stand up to join her with the cherry still in between your fingers; not bothering to look back at the table of your friends as Agnes waits for you to fall in step beside her before she puts her left hand onto the small of your back once more to lead you out of the packed bar.

Agnes does more than guide you out through the door; pushing you as if she was literally dragging you out into the cold night. Winter was slow to leave but the promise of Spring was bound to break any day now, or, so everyone kept saying.

She walks you both to her truck; parked a little off-ways from the main parking spots in front of the bar. Easier to get in and much easier to leave. The detective basically pushes you towards the car door before reaching for you to take the goddamn cherry from your fingers.

"You want me to tie knots?"

"No, I want you to put that mouth of yours to good use."

The slow realization that comes over her face is almost as good as what's about to come. Those blue eyes going dark as the gears start to turn once more behind them. You watch with your mouth slightly ajar; eyes on the cherry between her fingers now.

Agnes pops it into her mouth without a word and starts to chew. Her eyes are a little bit wider as if showing you, telling you to watch her. She's meeting your challenge with ease. Determination held on her face as her hands came up to rest on her hips; left foot jutted out to keep her stance strong.

You want to fucking jump her and your fingers itch with restraint.

Agnes' left hand comes up to her mouth with her finger and thumb at the ready as they press against her lips. She puckers them until she pushes out the stem past her teeth, her lips. She keeps the stem pinched between her fingers as if she's afraid to drop her proof.

She holds it out for you to see.

A perfect double knot.

"Now, do you mind if I open the door for you, lay my jacket down and fuck you before we go back in there?"

You feel butterflies in your stomach and a heat creep both up your face and down between your legs at her words. You nod as if you're already drunk; head heavy as you slide out of the way so Agnes can open the back door for you. She steps in front of you so she can peel off her jacket, her blue flannel illuminated by the lights in the parking lot. You stare at her without another word and watch as she ducks in to spread out her jacket on the back seat.

She comes back out from the car and stands beside you, a cigarette hanging off of her lips and lighter in her left hand that she must have grabbed from the back seat. She lights up and inhales and you watch with anxiousness as she takes her time.

You want nothing more than to be climbing all over her.

"You can get in if it's too cold out here...warm up before I do,"

She blows out a puff of smoke before flicking her ashes onto the asphalt below. Her eyes are trained on you as she watches you intently; almost as if she's trying to pinpoint the right place to strike.

You shake your head and lean against the car; arms crossed over your chest,

"No I...I like watching you...your mouth, your neck..."

Agnes smirks as she takes another drag until she gets down to nothing more than a butt. She drops it straight down and stomps it out with her heavy construction boots.

The action signifies your invitation into the backseat of the car with Agnes hot on your heels. You hear the door slam behind you both.

"Thanks, Handsome..."

The name drops as you do, forearms to hold up your chest and head as you watch Agnes climb onto the seat and settle on her knees between your legs. Her eyes are hooded and dark and all you can focus on is the way she smells like cold air and cigarette smoke and that lingering pine scent you've always known her to have.

It makes your stomach flop with excitement.

Agnes bows down between you and you see the tick in her jaw before her face is out of sight for a moment or two. You feel a tug on your jeans; the belt loop being pulled downwards and when you dip your head to look, you see the glint of white in the dark.

Agnes is trying to get your pants off with nothing more than just her teeth.

The moan that leaves your lips is unholy; made to be used as audio in a porno. You can't help yourself when it comes to Agnes, never had been. Everything that was once reserved in you was very quickly expunged; wrung dry by her passion and devotion. Determination seemed to win every time as Agnes, with very little help from her hands, got your pants down just enough for her mouth to leave the denim in exchange for the elastic waistband of your underwear.

You felt her teeth graze your stomach which only pulled out another moan from your lips and a quick reflex of your hands shooting down to grab her hair; wrapping around her ponytail.

Agnes' chin presses against you as does her nose, dragging down your underwear until it sits in the well of your bunched up jeans at the middle of your thighs. You hear her breathe in deeply and suddenly you're very aware of the cold that seeps into her truck despite her warm jacket beneath you.

"Are you cold, Sweetheart? You'll be warmed up in no time..."

Her head dips low before you even get the chance to speak; her mouth already opened wide to take you in. She breathes heavily out through her nose as her tongue starts from the bottom up, licking through your already damp folds until she hits your clit. You jerk against the seat and tug on her hair a little tighter; legs wrapping instinctively around her. You hear Agnes laugh between your legs.

The detective laps you up slow and steady and all you can think of is the way the tip of her tongue slipped into the opening of her beer. It reminded you of a snake and with the way Agnes was coiled in between your legs, it wasn't that far off.

Your desperate pleas don't seem to reach her as she keeps up her pace with a gradual increase until her tongue slips into you; lapping at what she can from the restrictions she's simply been given due to being physically hindered. Your breathing is raged as you try to hold on to her; legs squeezed tighter around her at the sides of her head.

Agnes quickly gets you to a place where you can no longer hold on.

Back arching up from her jacket, from the seat underneath you, your body holds tense before muscles start to spasm involuntarily. Your body fully releases and you can feel Agnes' tongue and lips working overtime as she tries to lick and suck up every last drop from you.

You want so desperately to see the shine that coats her mouth and chin; the bottom of her nose.

And you do, as she rises up from between your legs and gives you a look that would only have chased her after hammering back more beers than she had in the bar. Love drunk and satiated.

For now.

You can't deny the look you see on her face however as that tick in her cheek comes back and the muscles in her neck tense once more.

"Stay right there, just like that, pretty boy..."

You just barely manage those words out as you push yourself up to a seated position. Agnes hangs back and watches you with curiosity and without care to wipe her mouth with the back of her hand. You relish in the way she looks just for a moment, not wanting to make your girlfriend wait any second longer.

You're both on your knees, facing one another. A second or two passes as you both catch your breaths before your hands come forward to pop the button of Agnes' jeans; fingers taking the zipper to pull it down.

Her face crumbles and you know she's been waiting for this.

Your hand slips in past the waistband of her boxers to feel the silicone that sits between her legs before taking it out. You smile and she sees it, groaning in response as her hand ever so slightly comes forward to hold the back of your head. Guiding you just like she did out of the bar and into the backseat.

Guiding you towards her pleasure she still can't find the words to ask for.

Your mouth finds her just like hers did to you; taking Agnes in past your lips and into your throat. You look up at her the best you can with determination blazing in your eyes and the detective can only look down at you with that delicious expression of lust scattered over her face. The deep wrinkle between her eyebrows is heavyset as she focuses on the sensation you so lovingly give her.

You find it easy, just as Agnes does, to find this moment between you just as real as it was when Agnes was down between your legs. You know she can feel everything you do; every suck and every lick. You know Agnes doesn't see this toy as just that but a true extension of herself. You go as deep to feel your nose brush against the harness and the wild curls that escape from behind.

Agnes' hips drop and her hands let up from behind your head as she lets out a long and steady exhale; not unlike the cigarette smoke that had pushed out from her lungs and into the cold air.

Your breathing falls to normal as you pull away from Agnes; the extension of her leaving your lips with a strong line of spit to still keep you connected before it breaks and falls down onto her jacket. You take a second or two to roll your jaw and flex your tongue but that moment of recovery is broken by the chase of Agnes' lips pressed to yours with a hunger you had thought she would only have previous to all of this.

You wonder, as Agnes' tongue battles with yours, where the cherry stem went.

You wonder, as Agnes moans deep and low into your mouth as her hands reach and slide up under your shirt, if there would be proof enough on your body to show your friends that yes, Detective Agnes O'Connor does know how to tie a cherry stem with only her tongue.