"Coming, Moneypenny?" Freddie asks, stopped at the door of her office.
Bel shakes her head and laughs for a reason she doesn't quite understand, relief or something else. "No," she says. "No, I'll be on." The bottle in her hand sloshes when she gestures at the door, giving him his leave.
Freddie's smile goes malleable, wanting to become something else, but he, with great care, sets the other bottle back down on her desk. He shrugs on his gray tweed and tips to her a hat that he's not wearing, that she's pretty sure has never worn, and he moves the other mostly-empty bottle of whisky on her desk like an afterthought before he goes.
In the moment when the door closes behind him, the hysterical truth of their winning again sets in on her, and she puts a hand over her mouth.
The door clicks open, and she forces her hand back down and stands up, but it's just Lix who pokes her head in. "Has everyone left?" Lix pokes the hand carrying whiskey in next, the curve in her mouth sly and conspiratorial. "Then what will we do with this?"
"Drink more than they would've," Bel says.
Lix's laugh is as much her as anything else about her; it sounds like three bottles of whiskey in an desk cabinet and twelve cigarettes before noon. Bel had stopped bothering with shot glasses by the time Freddie had either given up or just left, but Lix collects theirs, marked by different lipstick stains, and pours them out with a hip against her desk.
Bel picks up the glass and empties it, then considers it long enough that the burn in her throat dies. When she looks up Lix is watching her, still holding the bottle, fine brow arching.
"We've come back, you know," Lix says, as if talking about something theoretical. "We've made it."
"Have we?"
"Is this your way of telling me I shouldn't be expecting a paycheck?" The look in her eyes is wry.
Bel ducks her head. "I don't know what I'm meant to do next."
Lix lifts her shoulders. "Be the hardest-working woman with your job to do."
"The only woman," she corrects, though she knows that Lix hasn't missed out that.
She leans in and pitches her voice low when she says, "Precisely."
Bel ducks her head again, but not before everything in her face lifts. Lix is grinning when she chucks her chin up.
"Thank you," Bel says, smiling now, Lix's finger still curled under her chin. Lix's hand pats her cheek, and she gives her a peck that is supposed to be businesslike. It should be businesslike, and maybe would be more businesslike if they weren't standing with their bodies next to each other in close parallel, if Lix's hand wasn't on her face.
Bel realizes now that everything feels fuzzier than she would like it to, and she clears her throat even though she starts to move with Lix when Lix pulls back like she's leaning into warmth. She does not quite know what she's doing, and Lix only blinks surprise, the lingering glance that goes up her face more obvious when hers is so close. Then there's slow, dawning amusement, a new smile. That means she figures out what Bel's doing before Bel does.
Lix puts her glass down, takes a deliberate and almost-unnecessary step to be squarely in front of her, and kisses her. Her hand comes up and fists in Bel's hair at the nape of her neck, and it's impossible to separate the kiss from whiskey and the whiskey from knowing they've won, for the moment. Her back presses against her desk, and Lix pushes her up, her skirt bunching. The almost-empty bottle that Freddie put carefully back knocks over, and her eyes open and try to focus on it when Lix's mouth trails off to her neck. Then, in a breath that feathers on her skin, Lix pulls back; her lipstick is smudged, or Bel's lipstick on her lips is smudged.
"That was," Lix breathes, with a hint of a grin, "the general idea you were going for?"
Bel would prefer not to be dumbstruck, so she skips it, and the words are barely out of Lix's mouth before she grabs her back, and Lix's hips press between her thighs like they've done this before.
PHYSICALLY AND MENTALLY ME RN!! I'M CRYING!!!!! ugh all the little details (it sounds like three bottles of whiskey in an desk cabinet and twelve cigarettes before noon, omg, gillian PLS), and freddie being an idiot, and the kiss! FIRST BASE! and the dialogue is so them, i dieeee.
also i feel strongly that we should be frands here ok
first base would not be a thing rn if it were not 2 am oK I AM AN ADULT OK. not really, leaves the earth. but :') goshhhh thank you so much, especially about the dialogue! i don't write a lot lately so i was more nervous about this being stupid bad which i can unload on you now since we know each other.
I STRONGLY AGREE and i haven't updated in like a bajillion years but i'm adding u!!
"Coming, Moneypenny?" Freddie asks, stopped at the door of her office.
Bel shakes her head and laughs for a reason she doesn't quite understand, relief or something else. "No," she says. "No, I'll be on." The bottle in her hand sloshes when she gestures at the door, giving him his leave.
Freddie's smile goes malleable, wanting to become something else, but he, with great care, sets the other bottle back down on her desk. He shrugs on his gray tweed and tips to her a hat that he's not wearing, that she's pretty sure has never worn, and he moves the other mostly-empty bottle of whisky on her desk like an afterthought before he goes.
In the moment when the door closes behind him, the hysterical truth of their winning again sets in on her, and she puts a hand over her mouth.
The door clicks open, and she forces her hand back down and stands up, but it's just Lix who pokes her head in. "Has everyone left?" Lix pokes the hand carrying whiskey in next, the curve in her mouth sly and conspiratorial. "Then what will we do with this?"
"Drink more than they would've," Bel says.
Lix's laugh is as much her as anything else about her; it sounds like three bottles of whiskey in an desk cabinet and twelve cigarettes before noon. Bel had stopped bothering with shot glasses by the time Freddie had either given up or just left, but Lix collects theirs, marked by different lipstick stains, and pours them out with a hip against her desk.
Bel picks up the glass and empties it, then considers it long enough that the burn in her throat dies. When she looks up Lix is watching her, still holding the bottle, fine brow arching.
"We've come back, you know," Lix says, as if talking about something theoretical. "We've made it."
"Have we?"
"Is this your way of telling me I shouldn't be expecting a paycheck?" The look in her eyes is wry.
Bel ducks her head. "I don't know what I'm meant to do next."
Lix lifts her shoulders. "Be the hardest-working woman with your job to do."
"The only woman," she corrects, though she knows that Lix hasn't missed out that.
She leans in and pitches her voice low when she says, "Precisely."
Bel ducks her head again, but not before everything in her face lifts. Lix is grinning when she chucks her chin up.
"Thank you," Bel says, smiling now, Lix's finger still curled under her chin. Lix's hand pats her cheek, and she gives her a peck that is supposed to be businesslike. It should be businesslike, and maybe would be more businesslike if they weren't standing with their bodies next to each other in close parallel, if Lix's hand wasn't on her face.
Bel realizes now that everything feels fuzzier than she would like it to, and she clears her throat even though she starts to move with Lix when Lix pulls back like she's leaning into warmth. She does not quite know what she's doing, and Lix only blinks surprise, the lingering glance that goes up her face more obvious when hers is so close. Then there's slow, dawning amusement, a new smile. That means she figures out what Bel's doing before Bel does.
Lix puts her glass down, takes a deliberate and almost-unnecessary step to be squarely in front of her, and kisses her. Her hand comes up and fists in Bel's hair at the nape of her neck, and it's impossible to separate the kiss from whiskey and the whiskey from knowing they've won, for the moment. Her back presses against her desk, and Lix pushes her up, her skirt bunching. The almost-empty bottle that Freddie put carefully back knocks over, and her eyes open and try to focus on it when Lix's mouth trails off to her neck. Then, in a breath that feathers on her skin, Lix pulls back; her lipstick is smudged, or Bel's lipstick on her lips is smudged.
"That was," Lix breathes, with a hint of a grin, "the general idea you were going for?"
Bel would prefer not to be dumbstruck, so she skips it, and the words are barely out of Lix's mouth before she grabs her back, and Lix's hips press between her thighs like they've done this before.
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PHYSICALLY AND MENTALLY ME RN!! I'M CRYING!!!!! ugh all the little details (it sounds like three bottles of whiskey in an desk cabinet and twelve cigarettes before noon, omg, gillian PLS), and freddie being an idiot, and the kiss! FIRST BASE! and the dialogue is so them, i dieeee.
also i feel strongly that we should be frands here ok
Reply
I STRONGLY AGREE and i haven't updated in like a bajillion years but i'm adding u!!
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