Chapter Text
The HBO crew was already set up by the time Agatha walked into the rink. The universe really just kept doing this to her.
Rio was skating lazy circles during warmups, the black compression shirt looking wholly out of place under her jersey. She kept yanking at the collar like it was suffocating her, and Agatha felt a deeply unprofessional surge of satisfaction.
Good. Let her suffer. Karma and all that.
“Rio.” Jen swooped up next to Rio, squinting. “What’s with the tactical turtleneck? You joining the SEALs?” Great.
“It’s a bold new fashion statement.” Rio flipped her hair. “Very avant-garde. You wouldn’t get it.”
“Oh my god.” Jen’s eyes went huge. She reached for the collar. “You’ve totally been getting freaky! Let me see-”
“Touch me and die.” Rio smacked her hand away, but she was grinning.
“Wait, what are we looking at?” Alice glided over, because this was about to become a whole circus. Agatha wondered if she could slither out the back door. “Rio, are you hurt?”
“She’s hiding something,” Jen stage-whispered. “Under the tactical gear.”
“Ooh, lemme see!” Alice reached out with zero hesitation. “Is it a rash? My cousin had this thing where-”
“It’s not a rash,” Jen interrupted, wiggling her eyebrows. “Look at her face, she’s being weird about it.”
This was what Agatha got for marking up a professional athlete like some kind of horny teenager. Actually, no, this was what she got for letting Rio Vidal anywhere near her bedroom. The bedroom thing was definitely the root cause here.
Rio slapped Alice’s hand away. “I will throw both of you under the zamboni.”
“Come on!” Alice lunged for her neck again. “Just a little peek, you coward!”
“Fuck off!” Rio shoved her, cackling. “I’ll tell everyone about that thing with the mascot!”
“You wouldn’t dare-” Alice yanked at the fabric, and Rio actually shrieked.
If anyone noticed Agatha’s death grip on her tablet, they were polite enough not to mention it. She was going to need to invest in better concealer. Possibly witness protection.
She also needed a time machine, so she could go back and stop herself from ever taking this goddamn job in the first place.
And then they were all just... slap fighting. On ice. In front of cameras.
Professional athletes making millions of dollars, and they were chasing each other around in circles, goddamn rabid raccoons fighting over garbage. Rio kept doing these ridiculous little spins to avoid their hands, shrieking with laughter while the HBO crew tracked their every move.
Hm. Agatha could always just walk into oncoming traffic. Could be real nice.
She watched Rio dodge another grab from Alice, face lit up like she was having the time of her life. And, fuck, that was the real problem, wasn’t it? That Rio could act like… this, and still make Agatha’s pulse jump just by existing.
Fuck her stupid fucking life.
Rio was a dumbass.
Agatha needed to fuck her again. Expeditiously.
“Wait.” Jen’s voice cut through the chaos, and Agatha felt her stomach drop. “Wait, holy shit. Holy shit.”
Rio stumbled, which was a first - the idiot never lost her balance on ice.
“The locker room.” Jen’s eyes were huge. “You and-” She glanced up at Agatha. “Oh my god!” Rio launched herself at her.
Agatha cleared her throat, letting her voice go cold. “Turn the fucking cameras off.” She leveled her gaze at the HBO crew. “Now.”
The crew went dead silent, one of the cameramen actually taking a step back, even as Rio grabbed at Jen’s ankles on the ice.
“You can all take five.” Agatha didn’t raise her voice. She clearly didn’t need to. “And when you come back, we’re going to pretend none of this ever happened. Unless someone would like to explain to the network exactly why their prestige documentary has ended with the entire camera crew hitchhiking back to Los Angeles.”
Rio shot her a look that was somehow both terrified and turned on, which was a problem for another time.
“Twenty suicides!” Their coach bellowed from across the ice. “Since you all seem to have so much extra energy.”
The team scattered, and Rio dragged herself up off the ice, reaching down to pull Jen back up with her. Agatha sat back down, dragging her hands down her face.
They were all idiots.
And Agatha? She was the biggest idiot of them all.
Lilia's office was way too nice for the conversation they were about to have. Agatha stared longingly at the window. She probably wouldn’t even break an ankle from this close to the ground.
“So.” Lilia was wearing her most carefully curated expression of polite concern, which meant Agatha was absolutely toast. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
“Nothing’s going on.” Agatha examined her nails. “Everything’s incredibly professional and under control.”
“Uh huh.” Lilia leaned back in her chair. “Is that why Rio showed up to practice looking like she’d been mauled by a very specific wild animal?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Agatha.” Lilia’s voice was gentle in a way that made Agatha want to crawl out of her skin. “You know I trust you. But this is-”
“Everything’s fine.”
“You’re sleeping with your client.”
“I am managing a complex situation.”
“With your mouth, apparently.”
Agatha choked on her own spit. “Jesus Christ, Lilia.”
“Look.” Lilia pressed her fingers to her temples. “I just need to know you’ve thought this through.”
“Of course I have.” Agatha hadn’t thought about a single thing in approximately forty-eight hours. She’d been too busy thinking about Rio’s hands. And Rio’s mouth. And- “I am a professional.”
“You know this could all blow up in your face. In all of our faces, really.”
“Nothing’s going to blow up.” Agatha stood up. “Because nothing is happening.”
“Right.”
“I need to go do... something else.” She was already backing towards the door. “Somewhere else. Just. Else.”
“Agatha.” Agatha paused in the doorway. “No one here is going to have anything to say to the press. You know that. I still need you to be careful, alright?”
She bolted.
Agatha was halfway through packing her travel bag when her phone rang. She didn’t need to check the caller ID.
“Whatever you’re about to say, the answer is still no.”
“Wow, rude.” Rio’s voice was warm through the speaker. “Maybe I was just calling to say good morning.”
“It’s 8pm.”
“Good evening then. What are you wearing?”
Agatha pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m packing. For the away game that you should also be packing for.”
“Already done. Want to know what I packed?”
“If you say lingerie, I’m hanging up.”
“...okay. Then want to know what else I packed?”
“Rio.” Agatha tried to keep her voice stern. “We need to talk about tomorrow. About being smart.”
“Sure, yeah, absolutely.” Rio didn’t sound like she was listening at all. “Smart is my favorite thing to be. Hey, what color is your-”
“I’m serious.” Agatha folded another shirt with probably unnecessary precision. “No more... evidence.”
“You mean no more suction cupping my neck?” Rio’s laugh was delighted. “Because that was definitely all you, actually-”
“I mean we need to be professional.”
“Wasn’t very professional last night when you had your fingers in my-”
“I will end this call.”
“No you won’t.” Rio’s voice dropped lower. “You like it when I push back, remember?”
Agatha either needed better self-control or a fucking shock collar. “Six hours on a plane with the entire team, Rio. And Lilia.”
“Ugh, fine.” Agatha could hear her pout through the phone. “But for the record? Being smart is boring.”
“Being smart keeps us both employed.”
“Being employed is also boring.”
“I’m hanging up now.”
“Wait!” Rio’s voice went high. She paused. “What are you actually wearing though?”
Agatha hung up. Her phone immediately buzzed with a text:
rude!!! i was just trying to help u pack
“God help me,” Agatha muttered, but she was already typing back a reply.
Private jets were clearly wasted on professional athletes. Agatha was trying to draft a press release about their upcoming charity thing, but Rio had apparently taken her “be professional” speech as a personal challenge to be the most annoying person in aviation history. God, of all the things to do on a private jet.
The first peanut bounced off her computer screen. Agatha didn’t look up.
The second one hit her in the back of the head. She kept typing.
The third one landed directly in her coffee.
“I will throw you out of this plane,” Agatha said evenly, still not looking up. “We’re over Nebraska. No one would ever find you.”
“You’re not even reading what you’re typing anymore.” Rio’s voice was closer now - she’d moved up a few rows when Agatha wasn’t paying attention. “I can see your screen. You just wrote ‘the Waves are committed to throwing Rio Vidal into an active volcano’ three times.”
“Sounds accurate to me.”
Another peanut pinged off her laptop. This one was clearly aimed with more precision, because it ricocheted perfectly into her cleavage.
Agatha finally looked over her shoulder. Rio was sprawled across two seats, controller abandoned on her chest - she’d clearly gotten bored with whatever game she’d been playing. Her grin was absolutely shit-eating.
“Nice shot,” Agatha deadpanned.
“Thanks!” Rio’s smile widened. “I’ve been practicing. Want to see me do it again?”
“I want,” Agatha said carefully, “to finish this press release without picking up a felony at 35,000 feet.”
“Boring.” Rio stretched, which made her shirt ride up. Definitely on purpose. “I can think of better things to do at 35,000 feet.”
Oh, they were not doing this. Not with Lilia three rows up pretending to sleep, not with half the team sprawled out around them in various states of unconsciousness.
“Rio.” Agatha’s voice was a warning.
“What? I just meant, like, charades or something.” Rio’s eyes crinkled as she smiled. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Harkness.”
“Well!” she announced at a volume that was absolutely unnecessary for their current proximity. “I need to use the bathroom.” She stood up, stretching again. Then she whispered, “You know. The one way in the back of the plane.”
Agatha kept typing, even though she’d definitely just written “fucking menace” instead of “fundraising initiative.”
“Just... gonna head back there.” Rio was still whispering. “To the bathroom. That’s very far away from everyone else. Where no one can hear-”
“Oh my god.” Agatha hissed. “Shut up.”
Rio grinned and started walking backwards down the aisle. “Taking my time. Walking very slowly. In case anyone needs to-”
“I hope you fall and break your neck on your way there.”
Rio laughed. “Jesus, your dirty talk could use some work.” She disappeared towards the back of the plane.
Agatha counted to thirty in her head. Then she counted to thirty again. Then she looked at her laptop screen, where she’d apparently just typed “stupid fucking hot freak” fourteen times.
“Fuck,” she breathed, slamming her laptop shut, already standing up.
She was going to hell. At least she wasn’t flying coach.
When Agatha finally slid open the door, Rio was leaning back against the sink, wearing her smug little grin. The bathroom was cramped but stupidly nice - with walnut cabinets and marble floors and mood lighting that definitely wasn’t designed for whatever was about to happen here.
“Took you long enough,” Rio said, but her voice had lost that teasing edge. Her eyes were dark as she watched Agatha lock the door.
“Needed to make sure no one was watching. Since one of us has to think about these things.”
“I was thinking.”
“Really.” Agatha stepped closer. “About what?”
“About how much trouble we’d be in if anyone knew their fancy PR manager was about to rail me in their even fancier private jet.”
“Can we maybe,” Agatha’s voice was strained, “not discuss what a catastrophically bad idea this is when I’m about to fuck you against this stupid marble countertop?”
“Right, yeah, totally.” Rio’s breath hitched as Agatha crowded her against the sink. “My bad. Super valid point.”
Rio boosted herself onto the marble counter in one fluid motion, perched perfectly in front of the tub of the sink, like she’d been thinking about this the whole flight. Hell, she probably had been.
“You’re going to get us both fired,” Agatha muttered, but she was already stepping between Rio’s legs, already letting her hands settle on Rio’s hips.
“Worth it.” Rio’s grin was shameless, but it faltered when Agatha’s dragged her fingers up and dug them into her sides. “So worth it.”
Agatha had to lean up on her toes (fucking annoying, actually), and Rio was grinning against her mouth because she definitely knew it was fucking annoying.
Then they were kissing, Rio’s hands coming up to tangle in Agatha’s hair, pulling a little bit, and Agatha remembered that she needed to actually be quiet instead of on the verge of moaning so loudly that she woke up the entire fucking plane.
She caught Rio’s left wrist, untangling it from her hair pinning it above her head against the mirror. And now Rio was the one who couldn’t shut up, like she’d forgotten where they were, like she’d forgotten how to do anything except make these desperate sounds into Agatha’s mouth.
“Oh, come on, Rio.” Agatha pulled back just enough to whisper against her lips. “There are people sleeping out there.” She pouted mockingly.
Rio’s answering whimper wasn’t exactly quieter, but Agatha couldn’t bring herself to care anymore.
She kept Rio’s hand pinned against the mirror with her right hand, snaking her left down towards the waistband of Rio’s leggings. She got the tips of her fingers just past the top of them before her hand started cramping up.
“Why the fuck are you wearing such tight pants?” she huffed.
Rio rolled her eyes. “My bad, wasn’t exactly planning on getting fingered in a plane bathroom.” Rio was already trying to pull her back in.
“Liar.”
Rio hummed, and Agatha finally got her hand down her underwear. The angle was totally fucked up, and they were in a fucking bathroom for God’s sake, but Rio was already so, so wet that Agatha barely felt the pain in her hand anymore.
“God,” she breathed against Rio’s mouth, teasing her middle fingertip just barely inside of her before dragging it back out, “I can’t wait to watch you tomorrow.”
The hand that Agatha didn’t have pinned above her head tightened in her hair. “Yeah?”
“Mhm.” Agatha pulled back just enough to look at her properly. “Watch you absolutely wreck them. Legally.”
“You just want me to behave.”
“No.” Agatha’s voice dropped lower as she pushed her finger back into Rio, down to her middle knuckle this time. “I want to watch you play like I know you can. All that energy, but focused. Controlled.” She pulled her finger back out.
Rio’s breath hitched, and then she gasped. “Not fair.”
“What’s not fair is how wet you get when I tell you how good you’re going to be. How good you already are.” Agatha watched Rio’s pupils dilate, dragged her finger up through the wetness between her thighs to circle her clit.
“You really are the worst.” But Rio’s voice was shaking. “You know that, right?”
“Obviously.” Agatha smiled against her jaw. “But you love it. And you’re going to be so fucking incredible for me tomorrow, aren’t you?” She moved her middle finger down and pushed fully into Rio this time, all the way down to the last knuckle, curling it as she thrust into her.
“Yeah.” Rio’s voice was breathless. “And I’m gonna absolutely- Fuck- Absolutely fuck th-”
“Obviously.” Agatha bit down on her pulse point. “Because you’re going to play your game. Not anyone else’s. Yours.”
Rio gasped. “My game. Mine,” she repeated, sounding completely wrecked. Agatha pushed a second finger in and twisted, making Rio quietly cry out. “Mine. Yours. God, yours.“
Fuck. That was- that was something. Something that made Agatha’s chest feel tight, something that made her press Rio back harder against the mirror, made her fingers speed up. Something that had Rio’s eyes going soft and desperate all at once.
“Yours,” Rio gasped again, and Agatha was so monumentally fucked.
She released Rio’s pinned wrist and clamped her right hand over Rio’s mouth, cutting off whatever dangerous thing was about to come next. They just stared at each other for a moment, Rio’s eyes dark and wanting above Agatha’s hand, and something in Agatha’s chest actually ached.
She fucked into her harder, pushing back against the way Rio’s hips kept grinding up into her hand.
Agatha leaned in against her ear. “Come for me.”
And Rio broke apart beautifully, throwing her head back against the mirror. Agatha felt her thighs shaking on either side of her hand, felt her chest heaving as she gasped. She fucked her through it softly, letting her come down.
“You’re going to be wonderful tomorrow,” Agatha said quietly, letting her hand fall away from Rio’s mouth and slipping her fingers out of her leggings. And then, because she couldn’t quite handle whatever was happening in Rio’s eyes: “Try not to combust during the game. I would miss you, you know.”
She slipped out of the bathroom before Rio could respond, before she could do something stupid like kiss her again.