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Baby, We're Written in the Stars

Summary:

Isobel writes the astrology section for the local newspaper. Maria never misses a horoscope column, but she has no idea who the mysterious author giving more and more specific advice could be...

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Maria bit down on the lid of her highlighter and frowned at her notes. This night class was really kicking her ass. As soon as she had one bit down, she lost another one. It didn’t help that she shared the course with The Ice Queen. Isobel Evans.

Isobel had condescended to speak to her recently in class, but only to seem genuinely shocked at how far behind Maria had gotten, nose wrinkled in distaste. Maria consciously unclenched her fists at the desk. Isobel fucking Evans. She caught sight of the time, sighed and started stuffing her stationery into her bag. Maybe a quick coffee break before she had to clock in at the bar would clear her head.

Maria’s favourite place was a cosy little spot around the corner from the anthropology library, thankfully quiet this close to closing. Often, in the summer, it got so rammed people brought their own blankets and spilled out to sit on the quad outside, iced coffees in hand. Maria nodded to Rosa in the corner, headphones on and pen in hand, clearly in the zone of some new piece. The rose tattoo on the back of her hand rippled as she beat the pen in time with her music, and Maria smiled, comforted that some things never changed.

She picked up the local newspaper, left on the table for customers, turning straight to the horoscope section at the back. Maybe it was superstitious, but she needed a little advice right now, and her mom had always said her path was in the stars. They hadn’t failed her yet.

“February 21st - Cancer: You’ve been busy and overworked of late. Take care of yourself, and the rest will fall into place. Whatever you are struggling with right now, you have the drive to see it through.”

Huh. Maria breathed in the smell of her coffee, whistling absentmindedly. Maybe things were looking up.

***

The loud buzz of Maria’s phone earned her an annoyed look from their lecturer, who continued her treatise on pre-pottery cookware uninterrupted. Maria hurried to take the call outside, feeling Isobel’s glare on her back the whole way.

“Hi?”

“Hello, am I speaking to Maria DeLuca?” The tinny voice was too professional. Maria’s stomach clenched- she’d had calls like this before.

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m here at the hospital with your mother; I’m afraid she was found just outside town, and she’s a bit worked up. She kept asking to speak to you.” Maria started pacing up and down the corridor, footsteps echoing too loudly. This was happening more and more often.

“Yes, sorry, thank you. Can you hand me over for a minute?”

“Of course.” A rustle as the phone was passed over.

“Maria? Honey, are you safe? Where are you? Have they got you?” Mimi sounded like her worst.

“I’m fine, Mom. Just at my night class? I left you a note.” Maria tried to keep the upset out of her tone, but it was hard. She could hear the class packing up inside, so she moved further down the corridor. The sea of linoleum made her feel small.

“Yes, but,” Mimi switched to a whisper, “I didn’t know if it was them.”

“No, Mom. All good. Even my horoscope this week said so!” Her tone was overly bright to cover the wobble in her voice. Behind her, the class files out of the classroom. “Do you want me to come pick you up? Maybe we could go get some shakes?” She turned in her pacing. Isobel is standing just out the doorway, head tilted at her inquisitively. Maria ducked her head to cover her tears.

Mimi was babbling on, but she seems less worked up now. “It’s okay, honey, we’ve got Will Smith.”

“We sure do, Mom. Can you pass me back to whoever you’re with?”

“Oh, of course, her name is Carlotta, baby.” Mimi tutted and paused for a second, “She says that nice doctor, whatshisname- oh Valenti? Not the Sheriff’s son?” Maria started walking to her car as she listened to one side of the conversation. “Oh, that’s right! I’m handing you back to Carlotta now.”

“Hi, Maria. I take it you’re on your way?” Carlotta was as professional as ever, but Maria still bit her lip as she unlocked her car. She must seem like such a careless daughter.

“I’m on my way now. Thanks for calling.” Maria threw her bag in the backseat and slammed the door, just as Isobel stalked past in her own little world. “Oh, uh, it helps if you just play along with the alien thing.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Mimi is always a riot.” Carlotta chuckled, “She keeps telling me my love line is very long and that my marriage will be happy. What more could I want?”

“Still, I, uh, I appreciate it.”

“It’s my job, sweetie. I’ll let you get on your way.” The dial tone beeped.

Maria butted her forehead against the steering wheel and sighed under the drone of the horn. She sat back up, then started. Isobel was watching her across the parking lot, one perfectly-pencilled eyebrow arched in judgement. Maria sighed again and started her car, grimacing as she pulled out of the school lot and letting the dark desert around her calm her nerves. There was just too much going on at once.

***

The next time Maria reads her horoscope, she’s at a sleepover with Liz and Rosa. The three of them are laid across Maria’s too-small bed, comforter scrunched up around them and P!NK blasting from Rosa’s battered old speakers.

Maria rolled onto her front and grabbed Rosa’s hand where it was tapping out a beat on the bed. She flipped it palm up, frowned in concentration. She gasped melodramatically, eyes widened.

“What? What?” Liz propped herself up on her elbows, playing along.

“Rosa…” Maria paused, “It says here you’re… a badass bitch.” She collapsed into giggles, along with Liz. Rosa snatched her hand back and rolled her eyes, smirking.

“Yeah, yeah.” Rosa rolled and pulled the local newspaper out of her bag, “Why don’t we give you a taste of your own medicine, psychic?” She leafed through to the astrology section, “Let’s see… Hmm… April 3rd - Cancer: Reach out. Share your burdens with a friend and their load will lighten. Everything will be better than it seems.”

“Oooo…” Liz sat up fully to lounge at the headboard and kicked Maria’s knee, “Sharing is caring.” She probably just thought there were boy problems. Maria bit her lip. She didn’t really want to bring the mood down. Too late, she thought, as the Ortecho sisters narrowed their eyes at her, shared mannerisms eerily in sync.

“It’s my mom,” Maria admitted in a rush, “She’s getting worse. It’s getting- It’s getting to the point I can’t leave her alone very long.” She bit her lip again, looking out the window.

Rosa shifted closer to her on the bed and Liz reached out to take her hand.

“We’ll help, Maria.” Liz said, “Anything you need.”

***

The Pony was loud tonight, an already-tipsy crowd having rolled in from the Invaders’ game downtown a couple of hours earlier, on top of Maria’s regulars. The AC was cranked up as high as it went without smelling of burning plastic. Sweat was still pooling along her spine despite the backless halterneck top she had opted for. She poured a line of shots, shoving the slightly damp cash handed to her straight into the register, and then weaved her way through the crowd to clear a couple of tables.

Sam, her bartender, ducked back in from her smoke break, as Maria was making her way back behind the bar. She crouched down in front of the AC and let Sam handle the press for a bit. The fresh air was unbelievably pleasant on her bare back. She sighed in relief.

“You leaving me out to dry, boss?” Sam said, glancing at her while she shook up some concoction.

“Nah, just hiding from my ex.” Maria winked and heaved herself up. Michael had been nursing a beer in the far corner last she saw. “Don’t worry, Sam, I still got hustle.” She emptied her tray of dirties, grabbed the pints from the bar and moved back into the crowd. Unwillingly, her eyes flicked over to Michael’s corner- Isobel had joined him. Maria sighed in relief. She could keep an eye on her brother.

She had been distracted by them, though, and hadn’t heard the fight break out over the noise of the other patrons. Several things happened at once. Someone behind her took a hard punch, very badly, and upended her tray over her. Instantly, utterly drenched. His friend took offence and decided to throw the puncher into the bar. The puncher threw out an arm to catch herself, but instead knocked a spirit bottle flying, barely missing Sam and taking out an entire shelf of other, more expensive spirits. Maria cleared the beer from her eyes- the punched man had regained his feet and was reaching for a stool.

“Enough!” Maria raised her voice over the din. All eyes turned to her. Her trousers dripped cold beer. Michael was decisively removing the stool from the reach of the fighters. Guerin for a bouncer. She smiled wryly.

“All three of you, out. Now.” Maria ignored their sounds of protest and shook beer off her sleeve. “I’m not in the mood. Everyone else, go back to drinking.” She turned and walked out, hoping she had a spare shirt in the back room.

There was an old branded tee that didn’t smell too musty. Mimi must have had it mocked up decades ago. Maria undid her halterneck and used some blue roll to pat herself down. She reeked of beer, but at least she was cool now. Just as she slid her soaked top off, there was a knock at the door.

“What?” She cracked it and stuck her head around. Isobel stood in the hallway, hand raised.

“Uh…” Her eyes were unfocused. Goosebumps raised on Maria’s naked back, and she repressed the urge to shiver. “I, uh. I wanted to see if you needed any help.” An aborted gesture to the main bar. “With cleaning up.” Isobel was now staring at the ceiling.

“Uh, no, we’re good thanks?” Maria frowned, trying to work out Isobel’s motive. “Just putting on a fresh shirt.” She waved the tee through the gap in the door.

“Yes. Right.” Isobel turned and marched away, then turned and coughed. “You look good, DeLuca.” She had turned the corner before Maria could decide on a reply.

This was obviously just one of those nights.

***

June 14th - Cancer: Sometimes, bad nights and bad people happen to the best of us. Don’t let them get you down. An offer for help is the revelation of affectation in disguise. Pay attention!

***

Water gushed across the dip in the road outside town, brown with sand and churning. The storm pipe was overflowing, flash flood full of debris and silt from further out in the desert still clearing through it. Maria jumped out of her car and checked on the jeep half-spun in the floodwater, but it was abandoned. Idiotic driver. She shook her head.

The sound of a car approaching made her turn. She immediately closed her eyes and sighed. Isobel Evans rolled her car to a stop behind Maria’s, then swung out her impossibly long legs and sauntered over to Maria by the jeep.

“Flash flood, huh?” Isobel leaned over to peer at the frothing water and quickly backed up.

“Wow, nothing gets by you, does it, Evans?” Maria snorted and turned to the horizon.

“Okay.” Isobel’s plastered-on smile had faltered. “What is your problem with me?” Maria blinked and turned back. Isobel was frowning in concentration as if she was trying to read her mind.

“No problem.” Maria smiled bitterly. “Just didn’t think me and mine were up to your impossible standards.” Isobel scowled and then shook her head as if to clear it, turquoise earrings batting her neck.

“That’s not- I don’t have impossible standards.” Maria raised an eyebrow in response. “Well, you- you hated me first, DeLuca.” Isobel huffed.

“Oh, are we back in high school now, Evans? Sorry, some of us have moved on since then.” Maria stomped back to her car.

“Wait, where are you going?” Isobel bound after her.

“To wait this out, without your color commentary on my life,” Maria replied acerbically, refusing to face her. Thank the gods, the water was already receding. She slammed the door with satisfaction, then looked Isobel straight in the eye through the window as the lock clicked up. Her expression was surprisingly hurt, but she quickly covered it with her patent smug smile and strutted back to her own car. Maria couldn’t drive away fast enough.

***

July 27th - Cancer: Your outlook is sunny, despite the floods of negative emotions from those around you. They don’t mean what they say.

***

Maria shook her trusty biro and tried licking the nib again. No ink. She had already been late to class after visiting her mom at her new care facility, and now her pen was dead. Shit. She had slunk into the back of their classroom, so the only classmate near her was-

Isobel.

Exactly who she didn’t want to know she was this disorganised. Maria suppressed the urge to just bury her head in her arms on the desk. The lecturer had been speaking all this time, and she really couldn’t afford to miss anything. Or retake the class. She sighed.

“Isobel.” Maria hissed. “Hey.”

Isobel turned, raising one eyebrow in silent judgement and question.

“I need to borrow a pen.” She mimed. The expected eye-roll was absent, and Isobel dived into her pencil case with one manicured hand, eyes never leaving Maria. She leaned back in her seat and stretched a slender arm out to Maria, pencil in hand. Maria reached forward to snatch it, and as she did, their hands brushed minutely.

It was enough for Maria to stutter and drop the pencil, but her quick fingers regained her hold before it could fall. Oh. Isobel was staring at her, the corner of her mouth turned up in her usual smirk- but softer, almost. The long line of her neck was on show, and somehow she looked good in the school’s fluorescent lighting. Maria blinked and hunched down over her notes. She didn’t dare look up again. Didn’t think.

***

“Weird,” Maria muttered, making a face at the newspaper.

“What?” Liz asked, putting her phone down. They were tucked in a booth at Crashdown, waiting on Alex to show. The smell of greasy food and milkshakes was a familiar comfort to them both.

“My horoscope,” Maria tossed the folded paper over the table to Liz, “it’s getting too specific. I know, psychic and all, but it’s… odd.” She quirked her head. Liz was leant over the paper, lips moving as she scanned the page. “Last month I was in that flash flood, and then the section mentioned flooding. And this week’s says-”

“Remember a spare pen?” Liz met her eyes, frowning.

“What about a spare pen?” Alex said, sliding into the booth next to her, trays of fries and a milkshake in his arms. “And yes, you’re welcome for the food.”

“It’s my horoscope in the local paper,” Maria shook her head, “It’s gotten weird. Last week my pen ran out in class, this week my horoscope is telling me to bring a spare pen?”

“It is odd.” Liz nodded, digging into the fries and not looking at Maria.

Alex quirked an eyebrow, dipped a fry into his milkshake and read the paper. He flipped it back to the front. “Oh, the Roswell Post? I know who writes their horoscope. It’s Michael’s sister, Isobel. Isobel Evans.” Maria was frozen, fry dangling halfway out her mouth- Isobel? Isobel.

Isobel had been writing sweet messages for her in her horoscope. Isobel who’d overheard pretty much all the worst points in her last six months. Isobel who-

“I think I need to go.” Maria stood.

“Wait, what- Maria!” Liz sputtered. Alex was staring at her coolly, then nodded. Okay. Okay. Maria nodded. Okay.

***

“It was you!” Maria stormed into Isobel’s foyer as soon as she opened the door.

“Please, do come on in.” Isobel snapped and crossed her arms, blocking Maria’s warpath into the house. “What was me?”

“The- the freaking nice horoscopes! You write them!” Maria stepped forward into her space, so they were almost touching. “All those coincidental nice messages- why, Evans?”

“Why what, DeLuca?” Isobel was infuriatingly calm.

“Why did you write nice things?” Maria hesitated. “Why would you write nice things for me?”

“I thought you needed cheering up.” Isobel shrugged, cool. Too cool. Maria’s stomach clenched. There was an epiphany she wasn’t really ready to deal with on the horizon.

“No. It wasn’t out of pity. You don’t do pity.” Maria poked her chest. “Fess up, Evans.”

“Argh. Fine.” Isobel threw up her hands, batting Maria’s away from her. “I did it because I wanted to ask you out, okay? Happy now?” She snapped. Only Isobel could sound annoyed while confessing her feelings for someone. But also, only Isobel could write secret horoscopes to her crush.

“Yes.” Maria was grinning like the cat that had caught the canary. “Very happy.” She closed the distance between them again, crowding Isobel back against the wall. “Who knew, Isobel Evans, a secret romantic?”

“Shut up, DeLuca.” Isobel rolled her eyes, but there was a tiny smile building around the corners of her mouth.

“Okay, Evans.”

And Maria kissed her. She started none-too-gentle, too pent up, biting at Isobel’s lips and grabbing her waist to pull them flush. Isobel exhaled a punched-out little breath over their mouths and came alive underneath her; her hands running up Maria’s back and twisting into her hair, her mouth finding her neck and biting. Maria boxed Isobel in with a hand by her head on the wall, the other under her shirt, holding them close. Isobel sucked at her collarbone, and she gasped, raked her nails down the other woman’s back.

“Jesus.”

“Mhmm.” Isobel straightened up so their foreheads were resting together, “Bet you’re glad I wrote those stupid horoscopes now.” Her smirk was as frustrating as ever.

“Shut up, Evans.”

“Okay, DeLuca.”

Notes:

Hope you enjoyed!!! I loved this concept :) Comments and kudos always appreciated <3