Chapter Text
The power comes back on the next morning, early and unwanted. Beth isn’t sure what wakes her; the stressful dream she was having, or the sudden bright light shining through her eyelids. She isn’t sure of the time, but when she eventually crawls out from beneath the covers and flips the light off, there is a watery blue light beginning to peek around the edges of the curtain. She runs a hand through her hair, tugs on a robe, and yanks the door open.
It’s still downstairs, and the sound of cupboard doors and crockery sound harsh in the silence of the early morning. Staring out the window at the pink light creeping over the hills, she turns on the faucet. The whine of the pipes fills the room, and Beth cranks the handle as far as it will go in an attempt to force the now pumping water into the sink. There’s a loud thud, and a coughing sound.
“Yo, you get that water going?”
Beth jumps and lets out a loud “ Fuck. ” The spout spits out a sudden spray, wetting the front of her pyjamas before calming down and flowing easily onto the cold stainless steel below. She spins around and glares. “Do you get a kick out of that, or is it just a reflex?”
“What, you want me to put shoes on or something? Clomp around like a...” he waves his hand at her in a vague gesture “I dunno, frickin’ antelope or whatever?” He knocks his fists together and makes a clicking sound. “I could do that Monty Python shit if it makes you more comfortable.”
Beth wrinkles her nose and curls her lip.
“What? You ain’t seen Monty Python? That husband of yours have you chained to the kitchen or something?”
She rolls her eyes and turns back to the sink. “Coffee?”
Rio grunts in a way that seems to say yes. “We gonna get out of here today or what? Snow’s still kinda thick but I think the truck’ll make it.'' His eyes are fixed on the counter as he scratches at a blob of something that might be paint.
“Depends what it’s like along the way, do you have snow chains?”
“Yeah.”
She fills the kettle and lights the gas. “You mind if I hitch a ride back? I don’t think I can handle another trip in the boat and it looks a bit choppy out there.” He glances up at her through lowered lids and raises an eyebrow.
“You don’t need to take the boat back for next time?”
“That’s a Dean problem.” She punctuates the statement with the clang of a spoon against ceramic.
“Ain’t that a you problem too?”
“Nope.”
Neither of them say anything for a minute, and Beth tips the mug back and forth, watching the coffee granules slide from side to side. She hears a hiss of breath from behind her, and feels a wash of relief when the kettle finally begins whistling. She fills up the mugs and drops one in front of Rio.
“Enjoy your coffee, I’m going back to bed.” She starts toward the door and he grabs her by the forearm.
“You know our uh... keeping our past under the radar relies on you having a low profile, right?” His voice sounds tense, like he’s trying to avoid an argument.
She tosses her head back and blinks before turning towards him. “Yeah, I’m aware.”
“Something goin’ on that I need to know about?”
She rolls her lips together and pushes her tongue into her cheek. “Nope.” His grip on her arm tightens, and she tries to tug her arm away.
“You sure about that?” Beth squirms under his gaze, and the words hang in the air. “Because if your husband starts poking around in my business again I might have to reconsider this newly negotiated agreement of ours.”
“You promised.”
Rio sighs, and flexes his jaw.
“You promised . I just drove a boat to Canada and back for you.”
“Nah, see what you did was pick up three million dollars in exchange for me cremating a body. That’s called an exchange of services.”
“A body that you were using to blackmail me.”
“What, you think you were going to dispose of it properly yourself?”
Beth starts to answer, but all that comes out is a series of clicks from her tongue moving up and down against the roof of her mouth. “Yeah well… just because I don’t have a mortician in my pock--”
“Undertaker.”
“...What?”
“My guy’s an undertaker.”
“Well...Same difference.”
“Nah, you see a mortician prepares the body, a undertaker--”
“I really don’t need to know the difference between a mortician and an undertaker.”
“See this is why you keep getting yourself into situations, you don’t pay attention to the details.”
“I’m great at details, details are my thing! I once made--”
“Yeah I ain’t talkin’ about the PTA. You get way too wrapped up in the result that you skimp on the planning.”
“I… yeah okay that’s fair.” His grip loosens and she pulls her arm close back against her side. “You don’t have to worry about Dean, it’s not like I can afford to kick him out anyway.”
“What, you can’t just sell that big ol’ fancy house and split the cash?” One of his eyes is narrowed in skepticism, and Beth barks out a sharp humourless laugh.
“Yeah, not with mortgages that put us into negative equity territory.” She raises her mug in a salute and gives him a crooked smile before heading back down the corridor.
“I didn’t know.”
She turns back towards him. He’s pushing the cuticles back on one hand, eyes downcast. “Yeah well it’s not really any of your business sooo…” She shrugs and pauses awkwardly.
“I’m not really unhinged, you know.” His eyes drift back up to meet hers. “I mean like… I’m a pretty reasonable guy.”
“Oh, so all this has just been your version of pulling my pigtails? I’ll pass, thanks.”
“Oh so you telling me I should have just let you walk away when you got what you wanted?”
“Got--” Beth’s mouth hangs open, and clenches her empty hand into a fist. “I came out of this with nothing . You took it all back. ”
“Well I mean not nothing, right? You got somethin’.”
“Oh what? Your dick? You think your magical penis is going to pay me back for all the shit I did for you?”
“Hey, you were complicit in all of that, don't pretend you weren’t the one coming knocking on my door and leaving necklaces dangling all over the place.”
“Yeah, for a fucking job which you then asked for a refund on .”
“Hey now, I didn’t take that money back.”
“Oh, you’re going to get stuck on semantics now? How do you know that cash wasn’t stashed in my kitchen with everything else you took?” She’s standing next to the hall table, and slams her coffee down on it. Some of it jumps out of the mug and splashes on her hand, and she winces. “I’m just sick of men taking my future away from me. You, Dean, my fucking father .”
Rio throws his arm to the side and points out the window. “What part of I fixed it don’t you understand?”
“What part of you were my last chance don’t you understand?”
He lets out a heavy breath through his nose and they’re both silent for a few moments. “I didn’t know.”
‘Yeah, you already said that.”
“I…” He doesn’t finish, and drops his hand to his side.
“I figured you’d done your research.”
“Yeah, well you’re not exactly an open book.”
Beth presses her lips together and runs a hand through her hair. She looks up at the ceiling for a moment before steeling herself and meeting his gaze. “We all had our reasons for robbing that store, myself included.” She rubs her brow and grimaces. “Ruby’s daughter needed a kidney transplant, Annie was trying to keep custody of her kid and I… well I guess we were a week away from foreclosure but I’m not a hundred percent on that one because my husband cares more about sticking his dick in his secretary than keeping me informed about our finances.”
She coughs, out of air from speaking so much in one breath. “So yeah, that’s my story. That’s why I needed the cash.”
“I can pay for your divorce if that’s what you want.”
“Yeah, no thanks. I’m good. ” Her voice is full of irony, and she rolls her eyes.
“You wanna fuck it out?”
She tosses her head back and lets out a short laugh before twisting her lips into a wry smile. “... No”
“You feel better?”
“Not really.”
He smiles, teeth blinding white against the dim light of the kitchen. “So what you're tellin’ me is that time in the bathroom was… you getting back at your husband?”
Beth’s jaw drops and she stutters for a moment. “I mean he was right there at the table, what else did you think was going on?”
His gaze is back on hers again, and she shivers. “Yeah I wasn’t paying attention to your date.”
She digs her fingernails into her palm to bring herself out of the moment and narrows her eyes. “Are you trying to get in my pants right now?”
He tries an innocent look, eyes wide and mouth open in surprise. “Noooo.” He shakes his head emphatically and then his eyes run down her body to her exposed ankles. “I mean, from this angle It don’t look like you’re wearing no pants.”
“I am wearing pants they’re just… short.” He moves toward her in that way that makes her squirm, and she purses her lips. “Stop that.”
‘Stop what?”
“Doing that weird thing you do where you go all oh look at me I’m a big cat stalking its prey it’s creepy.”
He points at his chest. “Oh, I’m creepy now?”
“Yeah, you’re…” She trails off as he breaks her personal bubble, standing still until he’s so close she can feel his chest against hers when she breathes in.
“Ball’s in your court.” He glances down at her lips, and she gulps.
‘Just to be clear this is not fucking it out this is me reacting to the way you look in my pyjamas.”
“Which is…?”
“I dunno, feminine?”
He tosses his head back and laughs. “Is that you tryna be sexy?”
She doesn’t reply, instead tugging at the collar of his (her?) top and tugs him down until his lips are close enough to feel his breath. “This is nothing to do with the mortician.”
“Undertaker.”
“Shut up.”
She kisses him, and it’s weird. Like something isn’t quite right, and they don’t fit. It’s too gentle, too reminiscent of their last time, but when she runs her hand up his chest and wraps a hand around his neck he whimpers, and shoves her hard up against the wall.
“Oh that’s how it is, is it?” he runs his lips up her cheek and presses harder into her palm. She lets out a shuddering breath and then suddenly all she can feel is lips and teeth, and the hard lump of his adam’s apple. She tightens her grip.
Rio lets out a choked gasp, and pulls his lips away to lean his forehead against hers. “Bed… we gotta… yeah.”
Beth lets her head drop against the wall. “What’s wrong with here?”
“My back is what’s wrong with here.” He pushes her back down the corridor, and she stumbles and drops her hand from his neck. “Hey, hey it’s okay I got you.’
It’s not until she’s sitting on the bed with him straddling her, knees on either side of her hips, hands tangled in her hair, that she has a moment of clarity and pulls away. “What are we doing?”
He tilts her head to the side and runs his thumb over her temple. “Whatever you want.”
They stare at each other for a few moments. She can feel his dick against her thigh. He’s stopped grinding against it, but his weight resting on her legs and body is making her hot and nervous.
“I haven’t shaved my legs,” she blurts out without thinking.
“I look like I give a shit about that?” He makes that face, the one where he twitches the whole side and squints an eye.
“Or my… you know.”
He responds by kissing her before dropping to his knees on the floor.
Ten minutes later, naked from the waist down and thighs gripping hard against his jaw, she shoves him away and tugs the last of her pyjamas over her head.
“Get on the bed,” she says, and gestures to the messy pile of blankets that were still the way she’d left them earlier that morning.
She doesn’t give him any time to get comfortable, instead sinking down on him with little fanfare.
He grabs her hand and places it against his neck. She rolls her hips and closes her eyes. “Jesus.”
“I mean if you still haven’t figured out my name then I guess that’ll do.”
“Were you ever planning on letting me in on that piece of super secret information?”
“Maybe… I dunno.” His eyes are closed, and one of his hands is twisted hard in the sheet.
“Should I tell Annie to change your name in her phone from Gangfriend to Jesus?” She squeezes, and he tips his head back, pushing his shoulders and neck up hard into her hand.
“Oh yeah that’s… fuck. I’ll just tap you twice if it’s too much, yeah?” His voice is hoarse.
It’s a blur after that, and is over faster than she likes, although she may also have just lost track of time. It’s not until his head is back between her legs, tongue alternating between teasing her to an orgasm, and cleaning up the mess he made - which she’s quickly realising is what’s actually pushing her over the edge - that she understands this is what sex should be. Communication and respect and understanding boundaries.
Which is ironic, really.
...
The ride back across the island is quiet. Grey branches sit against grey sky on the white landscape, and Beth tucks her coat tighter around her shoulders. It’s not until they’re standing in the parking lot on the other side of the causeway that either of them say anything.
Rio shoves his hands in his pockets and bites at the side of his lip. “Thanks for picking up the cash.”
She smiles and shrugs. “Payment for services rendered, right?”
He laughs. “Right, right.”
Beth kicks at the gravel and looks down. “Well I guess this is it then.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Well… bye.” She turns toward her car and digs around in her pocket for the keys.
“Hey Elizabeth.” Something in his voice makes her turn, and as their eyes meet his lips tug up in that lopsided smirk that somehow manages to seem both self deprecating and superior all at once. “Don’t be a stranger, yeah?”
She takes in a deep breath and lets it out slowly before putting on the brightest smile she can muster. “Balls’ in your court, right?”
“Touché.”
It’s not until she’s half way back to Detroit that her phone pings.
Thursday 10am yours. I’ll tell you.
She squirms in the seat and tries to hold back a smile.
End.