Chapter Text
The stabbing has friendzoned Agatha.
Since coming out of the clinic, Rio has gained a look – a softness, Agatha thinks in disgust and cannot stand to look at her for more than ten minutes.
She cannot even dramatically groan at the slight discomfort coming from the stitches. Every time she does so, this asshole seems alarmed; eyes skipping all over, an arm reaching out as if Agatha is in actual need of help.
How dare she assume.
Everything is Florida’s fault, the stupid bitch laying in whatever hole they buried her. Agatha arranged and sent a bouquet of dry thistle to the headstone.
The gesture had gotten an amused, huffed chuckle out of Rio. Agatha had been too angry to care.
Agatha reaches her limit two days after the nurse cuts the stitches. No stitches, no discomfort, feet quick and mood back to a hundred percent, new deals set up with guards, and absolutely no greeting kiss.
Showing off the recovered flair of her body’s motions, Agatha performs a celebratory little dance that would have worked on any corny lesbian with a crush.
A twist of Rio’s mouth and an amused glimmer in the brown eyes are her only reactions before the woman is back looking at the 250 colorful pieces of the puzzle she won in monopoly.
The absolute fucker.
Wanda tiredly advices that complex problems require thoughtful solutions. Advices Agatha to romance Rio by surprising her with a different flower each day.
Agatha is terrified of the thought of such a disgusting-valentine’s-day monstrosity of a gesture, actually working.
If this is what it actually takes to get Rio to kiss her, Agatha will make sure to have her hot cellmate assassinated.
No flower delivery. In Agatha’s opinion, complex problems require just enough force to blast through them.
So, Agatha growls, “You are a coward”, in Rio’s face first thing in the morning.
The woman blinks; brunette hair pulled in a lazy bun, crust in the corners of brown eyes, a sleepy glaze over her gaze. Rio moves with a sway, as if the weight of sleep still presses on her bones.
“Excuse me?”
Agatha wraps a fist around the white tshirt, pushing her right to the corner pole of their bunks. The other woman’s body radiates warmth, this gentle scent that makes Agatha think of parks and forests and something so specifically Rio. Despite the boiling anger, Agatha cannot help the hum of appreciation from the back of her throat.
Rio rolls her eyes but allows to be manhandled. She leans her head to the mattress and looks at Agatha as if she’s helplessly stuck in a house watching a storm raging outside.
“What’s your problem? Honestly?”
“What are you talking about, Agatha?”
The rasp in Rio’s voice feels as the ghost of the kiss Agatha is barely able to remember now after such long days of living without it.
“You are a coward, Vidal”, Agatha snarls again. “I kiss you, you kill someone for me, I get stabbed, you go in isolation, I come back and you, what?”
Rio blinks, face twisting in thought until it seems to click. The woman finally smirks up at Agatha; this sharp, cat-like, toothy smile which makes the brown eyes harden. The height difference formed by Agatha’s shoes and Rio’s bare feet, makes Agatha’s mind spin.
“Oh, so you feel entitled to –“
“Damn right I feel entitled to –“
Rio rolls her eyes again as if she is bored. Agatha is ready to violently shake her, when Rio bashes forward, one hand burying itself in Agatha’s hair, and kisses her.
All but by slamming her mouth on Agatha’s own, clearly to shut her up as if she thinks that –
Then, Rio softens.
Agatha shuts up.
Goosebumps break over her skin, chest tightening deliciously with the soft moan breathed into her mouth, and fucking finally.
Agatha presses back with a breathless exhale of her own. An arm is wrapped around her waist; palm spread on Agatha’s lower back, fingers pressing in. Her other hand is holding Agatha close; from wrapped around her wrist, travelling down her forearm, sliding around her shoulder, to brushing the side of her neck.
The kiss comes in presses of lips, licks of two tongues and with teeth nipping, bodies swaying along. Time ceases. Agatha would be glad to stay right there for the rest of her life sentence, holding on Rio Vidal who steels her hand on Agatha’s lower back and keeps them close.
Carefully, Rio breaks the kiss too soon. Criminally soon. Jail for Rio for such an offense. Eyes softly blink open and they state at one another, until a smirk slowly pulls at Rio’s mouth.
“If you just kissed me anytime you pleased, then all of this would be easier. No need for the dramatics, Agatha, I mean –“
“Stop talking”, Agatha whispers and, later, if Rio calls out the gentle tilt of her voice, Agatha will make sure the entire prison finds out Rio –
Something. Whatever. Thoughts and plans are thrown from the fourth floor windows in favor of memorizing the feeling of Rio’s mouth opening against her own.
Too soon, Rio breaks the kiss again.
“Fuck you”.
“Sure”, Rio hums, intense eyes flickering down at Agatha’s mouth again. “Want to go for it now?”
The thought of pressing against Rio’s naked skin has Agatha shuddering. “Absolutely”.
“Shut the door”.
“You shut the door”.
According to Rio, there never was any friendzoning. Agatha doesn’t trust her word.
“Fun fact”, Agatha mumbles and Rio hums a very low sound from the back of her throat. Almost as a wild dog’s growl. Goosebumps break across Agatha’s skin. “This wasn’t the first time I’ve been stabbed”.
“Impressive. Please, stop talking”.
Agatha shrugs, the motion pushing against Rio’s legs. “Yes, ma'am”.
“Don’t call me that”.
“Yes, sir”.
“Agatha Harkness”.
She laughs, delighted at the answering chuckle that breaks the tone of frustration in Rio’s voice.
“That was a meme, do you know what a meme is? The kids these days –“
“I have a knife of my own right here, Agatha”.
Agatha pauses, looking up from between Rio’s thighs. “Wait, you do? Can I barrow it to threaten Florida into giving me a package of coke?”
“Why do you need a package of coke?”
“Want to slip some in the guards’ coffee machine to see what happens but Florida is friends with Jen and Jen is friends with Alice and Alice won’t allow junk in here so a knife would be useful to –“
“Oh, fucking hell, Agatha, get off me –“
“Wait, I’m not done eating yo–“
“Yeah, you are. Get out of my sight or I swear I’ll – Wait, didn’t I just kill Florida?”
“Who?”
“The one who stabbed you?”
“I had never seen that bitch before my entire life”.
“You specifically called her Florida for weeks!”
“Doesn’t ring a bell. Now do you want to keep talking or do you want me to get back to fucking you? Hey! Hey, put that away! Where exactly did you keep this machete?!”
“Don’t be dramatic. It’s just a chef’s knife”.
“Where did you get a chef’s knife?!”
“The kitchen?”
“We do not have knives like this in the kitchen. You have a contact sneaking you weapons in here. Who is it? I want an introduction yesterday. Give me their number, give me – Hey! Hey, put it away or I will snitch on you, you bitch!”
“I will skin you alive, Agatha”.
“Will you shut up, we’re trying to sleep!”
“Mind your goddamn business, Florida!”
“So –“
Rio hums, not looking up from the motions of her own arms wrapping the garden hose to the corner of the shed. Despite having twenty years added to her life sentence for killing a woman in this very garden, the warden decided to put her in charge of the whole station.
How ridiculous, Agatha thought while Rio rolled her eyes and mumbled about having someone’s death working in her favor again.
“It has officially been two weeks since my stabbing”.
“Yes”, Rio hums but keeps her eyes focused on putting away the water hose. “You’ve made the entire state aware, my darling”.
“A murder attempt is a major fuck up of this country’s rehabilitation system”.
“Very much not in a rehab”.
“Passion for crime is a drug, dear”.
“Good thing you didn’t say that in your interview”.
Agatha lifts an eyebrow at the sharp sass.
When Agatha first informed her of the press conference, an utterly amused smile had bloomed across the Rio’s face. She’d scoffed a laugh, had shaken her head, smiling at Agatha as if she’d presented the best form of entertainment.
The exasperation started boiling the last few days. The inmates enjoyed the fact that their demands were apparently only a threat of an interview away from being granted.
It made the prison buzz with wild energy. It came in waves out of every inmate with a thought of their own about the life conditions in this prison. Disrupted any sense of normalcy hoping to be found here.
There is mustard in the kitchen now. Movie nights three times a week instead of one. New popcorn machines coming with it. Monopoly evenings that are not to be interrupted when voices start to rise. Until Alice Wu-Gulliver heroically debated the construction of a swimming pool and the warden put a stop to the demands and the threats of calling a news desk every five minutes.
The daily routines have only started to settle to something structured Rio can finally say she can enjoy.
“It’s time for you to tell me how exactly it is that you can break someone’s neck, Rio”.
Rio grimaces, wiping her hands on the towel hanging from the waistband of her dirty workpants. “Mind your business”.
Oh, cute.
“I think it is exactly my business if I am sleeping with a serial killer”.
Rio lifts both eyebrows, brown eyes widening with amusement and she points right at Wanda. The redhead has her hood over her forehead and looks to be asleep in the roots of the olive tree in the middle of the garden. Agatha cannot help but soften at the sight of her girl.
“You’re literally best friends with one”.
“I don’t sleep with her. Now talk”.
“Agatha –“
“Talk”.
Rio heavily exhales through her nose. The evening sun is casting a soft glow to the horizon, leaving the woman bare in its light. Agatha can see each detail of Rio’s face, each spot and curve and line. A light frown has settled on her face but she otherwise looks unbothered by the pressure.
“You won’t believe me”.
“What, you a ninja?” Rio rolls her eyes so far back her head Agatha worries about her brain. “Good because if you said yes I would have slapped you. Military?”
Rio hums. She leans back against the wall of the garden shed and pulls a flower out of a pocket.
“Up to a point”.
“Mob boss bodyguard”.
Stained fingers play around with the small flower, caressing the petals, twisting the fragile stem. “No mobs”.
Agatha pouts. Disappointing to not have another mob contact out there.
“Special black ops division?”
“That’s almost right”, Rio rolls her eyes again but doesn’t look away from the flower.
“Believable and not surprised”, Agatha reaches and takes the flower from the woman’s hands. Brown eyes look up at her, steady and patient and intense. Agatha brushes a spot of dirt on Rio’s chin and clears her throat. Mindlessly reaches up and puts the mishandled flower through brunette loose strands of hair and secures it behind Rio’s ear.
“You’re one hot hitman”.
Brown eyes roll again. “Don’t call me that”.
“Cutthroat?”
“Agatha”.
“Gun-for-hire”.
“I’m a contract killer. Because I sign contracts. And kill people”.
Agatha rises both eyebrows, pinches the bridge of her nose. “How can you make this sound so goddamn boring?”
“Oh, I’m sorry?”
“Contracts. Are there shadow books of laws to follow?”
“Yep, higher-ups in the goverment got us lawyers for that”.
“Now this I do not believe”.
Rio looks amused now. “You believe the fact of me being an assassin but not the fact I was provided a lawyer”.
“Assassin does it for you. Very fitting, very sexy. The rest sound as the beginning of a conspiracy theory. Not hot anymore, Vidal”.
Rio laughs and Agatha lets herself push closer, hips pressing on hips and Rio on wall. Hands come to hold on Agatha’s waist.
“So you’re a professional killer”, Agatha brushes the loose strands of hair away from the brown eyes. The flower looks good on her. “Private militias? Government agencies?”
Rio hums. Gaze pinned on Agatha’s mouth.
“Never been in an agency. Militias are just trouble. I’ve gone… private”.
“Not FBI? CSI? CIA? Just good o’l US of A?”
There is that tug on the corners of Rio’s mouth again, the ghost of her smirk. Agatha knows they’ll be kissing very soon.
“Much like that”, Rio hums. “Once upon a time, politicians used to be my main clients”.
“Right. So you kill innocents to clean after dirty, old, white men?”
“Yes”.
“Disgusting”.
“Job’s a job”.
“You are incredibly boring”.
“Please”, Rio’s voice finally drops in a hum and something delicious in her body tenses. Fingers dig into Agatha’s hips and snap them close in a firm press.
Agatha gulps, barely masking the loss of breath under a roll of her own eyes. Teeth brush against her lower lip and Agatha exhales heavily, grabbing at the stupid apron Rio has strapped on over the gardening uniform.
“Are you going to kiss me?”
Rio smirks. “No”.
“You’re such an asshole”, Agatha growls, considering how this woman manages to make her feel so crazy. She slams against Rio’s lips with the force of her annoyance, pretending the frustration doesn’t completely evaporate when Rio breathes a soft sound into her mouth.
“Harkness! Vidal! Three inches!”
Agatha cannot help it.
“Oh, she can take so much more than –“
Rio’s hand slaps over Agatha’s mouth, but she is laughing hard enough to lean forward, pressing them closer. Agatha knows a disgustingly sweet smile is on her face and thanks the universe for the hand hiding it.
“– will have your package coming in tomorrow, okay? That last job was a bitch to see through”.
“And yet you’ve done it. You are a wonder, you know that?”
“So you keep saying everytime. Anything else you need from here?”
“There actually is. Be a darling and send in a flower bouquet, yeah? The prettier, the better. Tell the florist to throw in some bright colors to break a prison’s awful color palette”.
“Aw, you trying to sweeten up a lady, Harkness?”
“Watch your tone, boy”.
On the other end of the phone, he scoffs. Agatha cannot help the twist of a smile at the laugh lingering underneath.
“Right, flowers it is”.
“Nicky, darling”, Agatha keep him for hanging up. “One more thing. Remember the bitch who tried to kill me the other day? Can you take a sledgehammer to the headstone?”
“For Christ’s sake, it’s been – Oh. It’s been one month already?”
“Yep. I don’t want the bitch to rest”.
He chuckles. “No promises but okay. I’ll see how I feel after a few drinks tonight”.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do”.
“That’s such a small list. Be careful, okay? We did some damage here so they might move quicker than last time. Watch your back”.
Agatha leans against the phone and looks at the end of the hallway. Wanda is laughing; head thrown back, red hair pulled in a loose ponytail. Rio seems to be narrating a story; both hands moving along the expressive motions on her face. Agatha exhales a deep breath and fixes the look over her face.
“I’m good here. You look after yourself too, alright? Do not get arrested”.
“That’s rich coming from you. But sure thing, mama. See you soon”.
Wanda lifts an eyebrow at the flowers.
Agatha points a threatening finger right at her face.
“Not one word”.
Rio pauses at the entrance of the cell, head tilting to the side. A smile pulls at the corner of her mouth.
Agatha watches her over the book’s cover; watches her approach the bouquet on the cell’s desk, fingers reaching out to trace over the soft petals. Blue, white, yellow and white pair up with green leaves, breaking the cell’s depressing light grey color with some freshness, some life.
“Thanks”, Rio whispers, caressing the flowers and Agatha pretends to read.
She hums an uninteresting sound, frowing at the treacherous heartbeat as it wildly pounds in her chest.
Careful fingers pull at the book, tilting it away from Agatha’s eyesight and – “Hey!” – Agatha doesn’t have a chance to properly yell as Rio takes up space in front of her, around her, close to her.
A confident kiss comes to brush against her lips. The book is let go, hands coming up to hold onto the woman’s face, to keep them close.
Rio pulls back before Agatha is ready. Of course the whole thing is too good to be true because Rio chooses to be disgusting and says; “You’re sweet”.
Agatha gags right in her face. Rio flinches, flying back and almost smacking her head on the top bunk.
“For fuck’s sake, Agatha!”
“Get out of my sight!”
“One of these days I swear I’m going to snap and murder you and bury your body under the fucking garden shed”.
“Out, out, out of my room, you absolute pedestrian! My god, I cannot believe you –“
“What is your problem, Agatha!”
“This is what you fall for? This?! Get out”.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m going, shut up”.
“Now this is how romance is supposed to work. Don’t you think?”
Rio glares. The anger twists her face into something clearly dangerous; an expression working as both a warning and a threat; a demand to not be fucked with at this particular moment.
Fresh blood washes down the drain, with the swirling water still raining from the running shower. The woman in the tiles is alive, softly whimpering groans of pain that drift in and out of consciousness. Agatha had never seen Rio move. Had never seen any motion other than a blur of arms that slammed the woman’s blonde head to the wall with enough force to have the woman’s entire body go down as dead weight.
In front of her, Rio exhales a long breath and, for a moment, Agatha hallucinates a sniper rifle in her hands. Like those ridiculous caricatures in the video games Nicolas’ used to play as.
Agatha doesn’t allow a hint of a tremble to show; a hint of a sign the attack has shaken her. She leans back against the shower wall, looking at the blood washing through the water painting her bare feet light pink.
“Two murder attempts in one month”, Rio barks, placing the handmade shiv on the short wall dividing the shower stalls. “What have you gotten yourself into?”
“Oh, you know”, Agatha clears her throat, reaching for the towel. “This and that”.
“Contrary to what you may believe, I don’t enjoy killing people for no reason or any pay, Agatha”.
“Well, good!” Agatha forces a cheer in the words, clapping her hands, waving the towel down her body and through the dump edges of her hair. “You didn’t kill this one!”
“Jesus Christ, Agatha, just tell me what –“
Agatha shuts her up with a rough kiss. By grabbing the collar of the white tshirt and pulling Rio against her, the woman’s clothes drenching fast as they stand a foot away from the running shower. Rough hands tangle in the mane of brunette hair, tugging and caressing, and Agatha softly moans at the touch, pressing closer until Rio has to push back and force Agatha fully against the wall to pull her upper body upright again.
Rio pulls back with a deep groan, arms wrapped around Agatha’s waist as open-mouthed kisses trail down the line of her taunt throat. Brown eyes flutter shut at the teasing bites, the rough suck that should leave a mark or two.
“Who is after you?”
“Just…” – Agatha is busy trying to pull the tshirt off of the toned body – “…shut up”. Rio huffs against her, fingers digging in the bare, wet skin. The woman by their feet keeps groaning. The shower keeps running. Agatha has a plan of getting to her knees right there, to force Rio to look down at the gory picture of an abnormal life forced to be made in a fortress of barb wires and metal bars.
Fuck the flowers; fuck the romance in a garden bathed in the colors of a sunset; fuck the flirting remarks over illusion of card games, monopoly and unsalted popcorn. Cold tiles, orange uniforms, fresh blood washing down a shower drain, is what Agatha has known for most of her adult life.
“Agatha –“
A door slams open; loud chatter crushes through the room and Agatha rips away from this woman to slam the mask back on for the unwanted audience. The other inmates pause – someone yelps at the blood – someone curses aloud – numerous pairs of eyes stare in shock and disbelief at the picture they paint.
“You’ve been a doll!” Agatha cheers and sweetly pats at Rio’s cheek, refusing to acknowledge the feral snarl twisting the woman’s beautiful face in response. “Thanks for this, sweetheart! You’re due to a reward back at –“
A fist snaps around Agatha’s throat. Strength pushes her back to the opposite shower wall and Rio is back filling the entire space Agatha has to breathe –
Agatha pushes back with force Rio doesn’t expect. Bare feet slip on wet tiles and fresh blood, and Agatha has the shiv that was used to kill her; right against Rio’s throat. Other than a rise of eyebrows and a twist of an amused smile, Rio seems to back down.
“You can’t kill me”, she purrs in Agatha’s face.
“You can’t kill me”, Agatha snarls right back, good sense leaving them, comradeship evaporated. “It’s not allowed”.
Rio laughs. “Not allowed”, she repeats. “Who says?”
“I say”. Agatha wants to find out what it takes to have her crying out a plea; wants to bite her.
In front of eyes watching, Rio dares to push back as if they’d be alone. “Trust me…” – Rio snarls with a genuine – with a real – tone of a request to be seen as equal, Agatha barely keeps her hand from slicing a cut across this woman’s throat – “…or quit coming at me, Agatha”.
Agatha presses to whisper against her lips; “As if you haven’t been the one coming to me since day one”.
Rio pushes against the handmade blade, as if the cut threatening to bloom bright red under the edge is nothing more than a mosquito bite. “I’m not to be used for your entertainment”.
“Oh, but you are”. Agatha has an irrational thought of falling in love with her. “Everyone in this prison is here to be used for my entertainment, honey”.
The silly thought blooms as one of those colorful flowers in their shared cell; as one of those plants Rio takes care of at the prison’s garden. Brown eyes darken in front of her – gaze melting in that look that makes Agatha feel like screaming in rage.
She quickly pulls back. Drops the shiv with the woman passed out in the shower tiles. Throws on clothes; towel patting at her hair again, trying to salvage some of the tangled mane for the rest of the day. Rio watches her; as a hunter watching their prey and Agatha wants her to break so badly that she aches all over.
“Now come”, she casually over her shoulder.
The light crowd of inmates watching them as if they play a scripted scene on a theater stage, part to let her an open path to the door.
“Pet”.
Agatha doesn’t know what in that power play clicked exactly right for them but Rio fucks her hard enough that night they receive a formal warning from the warden’s office.
The next two days, Agatha sees glimpses of the woman. When they wake up, when they go to sleep, when they stand for a head count. Rio skips breakfast, lunch and dinner; skips a shift in the garden of all things. Agatha doesn’t force her to say a word. She doesn’t have one to offer back.
A tray clutters on Agatha’s table and the woman is neither Wanda Maximoff or Agatha’s dead mother. As such, she doesn’t deserve a second of attention.
“Can you explain to me exactly what is going on with your cellmate?”
“No idea who you are referring to”.
Lilia bares her teeth in a snarl. “She put three of my girls in the hospital, Harkness. Not one, not two but –“
“Three? You’ve mentioned”.
“Put a leash on her, Agatha”.
“So sorry, ma’am”. Her voice drips with sweetness but blue eyes glare sharply at the older woman. “Still have no idea who you’re –“
“What’d you do to Rio, Agatha?” Wanda drops on the chair next to her and Agatha barely keeps from growling at the assault from all sides.
“Why does everyone act like I’m that woman’s owner? She can do whatever the fuck she wants”.
“Cut the crap, Harkness”, Lilia snarls again. “Keep your people contained or I will have to deal with her”.
Agatha gives a practiced shrug, eyes snapping go the doors as they burst open and the woman in question waltzes in. Multiple eyes turn to look after the new girl who immediately started hanging out with two of the most insane criminals in this cesspool; who can apparently break someone’s neck with bare hands and keep Agatha Harkness on her toes. Agatha doesn’t like the last one, but their little show in the showers three days ago has spread like wildfire of gossip.
Not one strand of brunette hair looks out of place. Not one knuckle looks reddened. Nothing betrays Rio has recently been in a fight. Agatha doesn’t mind the saucy rumors that do nothing more than tie them as a pair. Always good to have an assassin on your side in a place like this, no?
An assassin who hasn’t allowed a thought to slip across her face. The woman’s control has been driving Agatha insane since they fucked loud enough to almost have the entire prison go in a riot. She hasn’t had a chance to nudge Rio out of it until now.
With a huff, Agatha preforms a flair lean over the table that brings her closer to Lilia. A glimmer in her eye. The woman glares back at her, waiting for the dramatics they for sure are coming. For a moment, Agatha wonders if they are friends.
“Go for it then”, Agatha purrs.
Lilia narrows her eyes. “Just like that”.
Agatha sweetly smiles. “I’m all for following rules, Lilia. Your crew is not to be touched. You know newbies get in here and start thinking rules don’t apply to them, can start a whole issue. What’s next? Demanding freebies?”
Lilia doesn’t seem to bite. “What are you playing at, Agatha?”
“Me? Playing? Come on –“
“Watch it”.
Another tray clutters in the table. Rio doesn’t look at Lilia, immediately digging into her roast.
Agatha keeps the laugh buried in the middle of her chest. She can feel the control steadily slipping down a hill and straight in chaos. With the speed of a tennis ball in the climax of a tournament, Wanda’s eyes jump from Rio to Lilia and back.
Finally, Rio lazily glances at the woman next to her. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife. Agatha is delighted.
“Hey. What’s up? I’m Rio”.
Lilia blinks, narrows her eyes, rage spilling from her in muffled waves, and then she goes to grab at the collar of the woman’s shirt –
Rio has Lilia’s wrist in a fist and slams their hands on the table. The cafeteria freezes; too similar to a glitch of a faulty DVD forced to play a movie. Rio tips her head to the side with a sweet smile that doesn’t reach those brown eyes. She looks a moment away from hissing, or biting, or breaking a punch across Lilia’s face.
“No touching, ma’am”, Rio grunts in a calm hum of her voice, gaze so intense and hungry that Agatha cannot help but lick her lips. How delicious to see her unmasked again.
“Who are you?”
Rio’s smile shifts and becomes weird. Agatha pauses.
Wanda straightens up in her chair, narrowing her lovely green eyes that flash with something promising danger. Lilia frowns, almost leans closer, anger slipping into confusion for a second and –
“Don’t you recognize me, Lilia?”
Air catches at Agatha’s chest as she stares. The entire cafeteria seems to be holding their breath, as if Rio’s quiet voice is echoing in the room.
Lilia blinks once. She relaxes – all at once – and leans back on her chair with a crackle bending into something gentle. An amused smile tips at the woman’s face and Rio lets go of Lilia’s wrist, smirking to herself and turning back to her food, tension dissolving so fast –
“Good to see you, Lady Death”.
Agatha almost chokes on nothing.
“What did she just call you?” Wanda barks.
Rio wipes her mouth on a napkin as if they are out for lunch break after a long day in the office. “Long time no see, Lilia”.
“What in the hell are you doing in here?”
“Had some trouble with a job”, Rio replies as if she’s playing catch up. Agatha wants to slap them both.
“Excuse me!” Wanda waves both hands in front of the women. She points at Rio, “What exactly did she call you just then?”
“Nickname she had when running a job for my relative”, Lilia replies in odd sincerity and lunches into a story of an aunt, who had cheated a rival out of deal and needed the issue resolved before it caught up to the family. The job was done so clean, so efficient and so fast; their rival taken out within ten hours of the payment, and with no issue coming with cutting through the layers upon layers of security they’d expected to surround the man at all times. The family had been impressed enough to invite the executioner for a formal introduction.
“How did I not recognize you until now?” Lilia is leaning closer and Rio has an amused smile on her face, which softens the entirety of her being. Agatha wants a gun to shoot them both; the interaction betraying something stronger than a brief introduction. There are inside jokes here. There is familiarity here. There is a dynamic coming to nudge its way between the link specifically tying Rio to Agatha in this space. The entire prison is witnessing it. Agatha’s plans are slowly going down the fucking gutter.
“In your defense, I had a tactical full-face on the entire time”.
Lilia laughs again. “We are still worshipping your work in the dinner table, Lady Death”.
Agatha bites her tongue. Wanda snorts, “Seriously?! That’s your codename?!”
“I’ve been given many names, sweetheart”, Rio winks at Wanda and doesn’t glance at Agatha once.
Fuck her. Agatha clears her throat, leans closer and – immediately – brown eyes lock on her own. So easy at this point. She smirks a dangerous thing at this woman coming in her prison and throwing a wrench in the balance. “Rio Vidal is also a codename, right?”
Rio licks her lips, eyes sparking as if they hold stardust. They share a memory; a crowded yard, an uncomfortable bench, Rio’s weight on Agatha’s lap, a sniper rifle pointing at them and a glorious moment of first sharing a laugh. Agatha is breathless and Rio seems to be trying to see right through her soul.
“Just my name, Harkness. Just mine”.
Agatha pants against her mouth, eyes rolling back as fingers pull an insane amount of pleasure out of her. Sweat drips from every inch of them both, hair sticking to her forehead, its salty taste in her tongue, her fingers gliding over the heavy drops. Rio groans at the sharp pull at her hair that brings her head back; glazed brown eyes cracking open and finding icy blue.
“Whose?” Agatha gasps in Rio’s mouth and the woman nods, but Agatha doesn’t think she’s made herself perfectly clear. “No. Look at me and answer. Do you understand?”
“Yeah”, Rio blinks up at her; pressing harder, slipping, readjusting her palm. The bars must dig into her shoulders, the bare bricks must be rough against her skin, but Rio doesn’t dare move an inch to get comfortable by risking disrupting the pace of her hand. “All yours in here, Agatha. All yours”.
Rio pauses. Stares.
Agatha bites her lip and keeps her face blank behind the book. Wanda slaps a hand over her own mouth, earning a glare and – Unamused, Rio huffs; “Very funny”.
They burst at the same time; wheezing in delirious laugher as Rio tips her head back and looks at the ceiling, asking for patience. The crackles echo loud over the bare concrete, glass and metal and multiple prisoners pop their heads up to look at their table; at the human sized, plastic model of Grim Reaper dressed in the girliest dress to be found, covered in so much glitter and steading guard outside Agatha and Rio’s shared cell.
Despite the confusion, Nicolas is nothing if not committed to seeing through a plan as instructed.
“Come on”, Wanda can’t breathe, “be a little appreciative, Vidal. It costed eighty dollars in buying and bribing to deliver and put in here”.
“You spent eighty dollars on this stupid shit?!”
Agatha shrugs, grinning. “Well, it was your money”.
“Excuse me?”
“Yeah, from the stash of blood money you’ve hidden in the right corner of – Hey! Hey, stay down, Lady Death! Stay down! Rio! Rio, no, no, no, no, put that down, you asshole! Guard! The assassin is trying to assassinate me!”
“Can’t sleep with this abomination looking at me, Agatha”.
“So spooky, right? My Nicky really did deliver with this choice”.
“Goddamn the very moment I met you. Goddamn it”.
From Rio’s perspective, a calm day is a day that promises trouble. Whatever Agatha has been cooking both in and out of this prison, seems to reach a boiling point that has the prison falling in an odd quiet of heavy tension. Rio keeps checking over her shoulder. Agatha keeps calmly readying her latest book. The sun is shining and the rain has left the soil perfectly soft, but Rio remains close to a concrete wall, feeling too much as a bodyguard stereotype Agatha constantly pokes her about looking like.
By the time their yard time is over for the morning, Rio feels a second away from having an aneurism. “What are you up to, Agatha?”
The woman simply hums and, to Rio’s utter surprise, replies;
“Nicky landed a gorgeous hit on the boss’ inner circle yesterday. I do expect her to have a meltdown soon enough”.
Rio hasn’t bothered to know anything about the boss; the one, badass motherfucker running the prison on a principle and who you are not to cross unless you want to find yourself bodily harmed. The old, annoying, snarling snake of a woman is as much of a cliché as they go, and Rio expects her being the head of a large crime family or something. Why Agatha bothers with bothering her, Rio would never know or care to understand at the moment.
What she’d actually like to know is; “When you say hit?”
Agatha grimaces, “Take it ease. We slipped a few hallucinatives in her crime family, little villa…” – Rio hates being right – “…just enough to stir some unsteadiness and some confusion between her people, and open some gaps in their communication and – “
The speakers announce the end of yard time. Multiple eyes skip over Agatha, where she is lazing at the direct sunlight. Most of them flicker over Rio with a brief hint of hesitation. She sighs heavily.
“Why?”
Agatha frowns and looks up at Rio as if the question is damn weird she cannot believe she’s hearing it. All at once, she looks back across the yard, at the big boss rising from her seat, surrounded by an army of inmates that look as a pack of hounds. Rio exhales heavily, again.
“Keep close for the day, yeah?” Agatha hums and there is a grin slowly stretching across her mouth. With audacity exceeding what may be considered sensible in this situation, she lifts a hand and lazily waves her fingers at the pack of hounds across the yard.
“Jesus Christ, Agatha”. Rio closes her eyes and prays the confrontation coming – at least – takes out the stupid Grim Reaper from their cell.
“Wanda is not the only one with uncommon… vocations”, Agatha’s grin drips poison. “A couple of interesting days are coming, Vidal! All for my entertainment! We’re going to make the national and hopefully international headlines again! Be ready to escape this hellhole”.
Rio’s eyes go double their size as Agatha casually picks up her book and stands to walk inside for their shift in the laundry room. Rio wants to violently tear this woman to pieces right there.
“Did you just say escape?”