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Chapter Text

Being the vice president of the United States of America was basically like being the assistant manager of the shittiest chain restaurant to ever exist. All of that work, and none of the fucking credit. Except, if Agatha was the night manager at a Chili’s at least there’d be some perks, free food, less stress, maybe some recognition or actual power. But no, being veep was purely just a vanity credit at this point. Most Americans can name the last five presidents, could they name the last five vice presidents? No.

Sure, maybe she’d make the smallest dent in a history book, not for any of her work, but because she was the first woman in 248 years to ever hold the position. And that was only because the blandest, most all-American boy picked her. And she wasn’t even his first fucking choice, she was a diversity pick to make him and the party look good. Make it look like there was actual progress being made in this country.

There wasn’t.

There’d never be real progress.

Washington was a stage, the politicians as actors all vying for the spotlight.

And Agatha was no different.

She clawed her way here, despite what others might say. Being a woman in politics had been horrible all the way up until present day-

And present day included.

So, when America’s favorite golden retriever called her four years ago and asked her to be veep, she jumped at the chance. A presidential term later, and she was worse off. Every decision he made reflected on her, and being the diligent second in command she was, she backed him. Which, agreeing with a man and saying he’s right? Humiliating.

And yet, she wouldn’t go anywhere else. She wouldn’t resign. All she had to do was bide her time for another four years, run again, and she’d be president by the time she was fifty-five. Easy. Just four more years.

“Just four more years….” She mumbled from her desk in her office located in the Eisenhower building.

Another thing, the veep didn’t even get an office in the west wing, instead relegated to another building near the west wing on the white house premises. It’s like the position was made to make her feel inferior, feel insignificant, feel powerless.

And fuck, was she ready to stab an icepick through her eye socket soon if something didn’t change.

“Four more years.” Agatha whispered again as she read over the 300 page binder on filibuster reform.

“Huh?” Jen asked, barging into her office, ID badge swinging around, leather folder in hand.

“I said shoot me.” She responded without looking up, glasses resting on the tip of her nose.

Jen smiled and gave a fake laugh. “I would, but then I’d be arrested for treason.”

“What do you want, Jen?”

“I have good news and bad news.” She tucked the folder under arm.

It was almost midnight. The bad news could range anywhere from the kitchen not having the coffee she liked, to POTUS using the nukes.

Agatha whined and threw her glasses on the binder. “Why do you only ever bring me problems?”

“Kind of your whole job, but…” Jen sat in the chair opposite her desk. “I’ll start with the news you’re gonna like.”

Agatha stared at her unimpressed. “Go on.”

Then her chief of staff smiled, like a real, big, fucking smile. “He’s not running again.”

She scrunched her face. “Who’s not running again?”

Jen flourished her hands. “POTUS.”

Agatha looked.

She stared.

She breathed.

She exhaled.

“Source?” Was all she asked, because if this was just west wing gossip and she got her hopes up-

“His aide.” Jen proudly stated. “They're putting out a press release tomorrow.”

It was May 2024, the primaries had already happened. Sure, the DNC wasn’t until August, but for all intents and purposes, Steven motherfucking Rogers was the party’s candidate. He was the current sitting president, number 46, and he’d made no mention to Agatha of dropping out.

Which, of course he didn’t fucking mention it to her, that man told her fuck-all.

“Wha-” Agatha sputtered. “Why? How?”

“Peggy’s sick.” Jen said.

Agatha smirked. “Rehab?”

“Too much skiing from what I’ve heard.” Jen faux whispered, tapping the side of her nose.

Agatha honestly couldn’t blame Peggy, between being married to a Ken doll and the scrutiny of the press, yeah no shit she picked up a drug habit.

“Must be pretty untenable if he’s throwing in the towel.”

Her chief of staff simply nodded.

They sat in silence for a moment before Agatha finally slammed her hands down on her desk, jumping up.

“I’m gonna be fucking president!”

Jen shot up too. “He has no choice but to endorse you, there’s not enough time before the DNC!”

“I’M GONNA BE FUCKING PRESIDENT!” Agatha basically roared, ignoring the fact that the rest of her staff were on the other side of her office door.

“You’re gonna be fucking president!”

“Oh god,” She sighed a breath of relief. “No more Air Force Two. No more bullshit appearances. No more missing defense meetings because I was forced to attend some county fair in buttfuck nowhere with a bunch of fucking hicks!”

“You looked great in that cowboy hat...” Jen offered.

“Jen.” Agatha sobered her expression. “If we play this right, I may never have to visit middle America ever again!”

“I know!”

“Get the whiskey, the good one, the stuff I chugged the night Roe got overturned.” She regally swept her hair off her shoulders.

Jen’s smile faded. “Remember when I said I had good, AND bad news?”

Agatha sighed, slumping back into her chair. “Fine,” She did a waving motion with her hand. “Get to the part I’m not gonna like.”

Her office door opened, odd since everyone knocked first under threat of death. Everyone except Jen.

A woman strode in, perfectly tailored pants and blazer, not a hair out of place, guest ID badge swinging in sync with her hips. And she had this look in her gigantic brown eyes, like she was meant to be there, like she never thought to be nervous to walk into the office of the vice president of the United States of America.

“Here I am.” The woman grinned in a way Agatha did not appreciate.

Agatha looked at Jen. “I assume she’s signed an NDA?”

Jen nodded.

“Great.” She bit out, plastering on a fake smile. “Who the fuck is she?”

Agatha recognized her vaguely, but at some point all DC people started to look the same.

The woman snorted back a laugh, tucking her tongue against her cheek.

“Madam vice president,” Jen started, though she never addressed Agatha so formally in private. “This is Rio Vidal, campaign manager.”

Again, it was almost midnight. Agatha had her hair clipped up, brown and gray strays framing her face. Her suit was wrinkled and her button up was rolled to her elbows, and this woman-

Rio.

Looked like she just walked out of an ad for “Scary Campaign Manager Barbie” and Agatha didn’t like that either.

“No.” She stated, and slid her glasses back on. “Whiskey?”

“I’ll go ask William to fetch it.” Jen grumbled, leaving the room.

Rio was still in front of her desk.

“You can leave.” Agatha dismissively waved her hand as she reopened the binder.

“Haven't even heard my pitch.” Rio said without missing a beat.

“Don’t need it.”

And as if Agatha had prompted her, Rio spoke. “You made three big mistakes in your last campaign, you know. Probably why you’re here and he’s at the residence.”

Agatha scoffed, but looked up, her curiosity piqued.“And those would be…?”

“Oh,” Rio raised her brows, smirking in victory. “Now you want me to stay?”

“My campaign was air tight, America just wasn’t ready for a woman president.”

Rio laughed, like actually, legitimately laughed. “I’ve won every race I’ve ever managed, and I can tell you, madam vice president, it wasn’t your gender.”

Agatha’s jaw clenched. “You’re like twenty, what do you know?”

“I’m thirty-five and I know where you went wrong.”

Agatha snapped the binder closed. “Well? On with it.”

“First, you spent too much time on the east coast. When’s the last time Vermont, Connecticut, or New York went red?” Rio talked like Agatha was fucking dumb. “I get it, Massachusetts is your homebase, you felt comfortable there. But only a couple stops in Wisconsin? And Milwaukee at that? Michigan and only Detroit? You basically ignored the swing states or any rural counties. And don’t even get me started on how your speech in Texas right before the primaries was tedious at best.”

She could take this woman, she could. Sure, there might be sixteen years between them, but Agatha was spry enough.

“Two, you ignored a key voting block. Young people. You pandered to boomers who were never gonna vote for you anyways and lost a huge chunk of what could’ve been your saving grace. Americans aged 18 to 30 don’t want to hear how you’ll make social security benefits better for blue-hairs when they damn well know they’ll never see a cent of it.” Rio rounded her desk, casually leaning against it. “Young voters don’t believe in the government anymore, they need a face, a symbol, a person to believe in, and it sure as hell wasn’t you.”

Agatha looked up at her from where she sat, completely fucking dumbfounded by the audacity of this fucking tween.

“Three and most importantly, you were too moderate. You tried to appeal to everyone, so you appealed to no one.” Rio was almost sitting on her desk by now, arms crossed. “Maybe the golden boy you work for can get away with that considering everyone cheers when a straight white man thinks minorities should have rights, but with your political track record, you played it too safe.”

They sat in silence for a minute.

“Are you done?” She ground out through her annoyance.

“I could keep going, but those were the key three.”

Agatha stood, boring into this woman’s soul. “You seem to think we are equals, so let me clear a few things up for you. I do not work for the president, I work with him. I campaigned on the east coast because that's where the data, the voter index, said I should go. Young people don’t know what they want and boomers are the largest voting block in this country.”

Rio didn’t back down, didn’t even cower. “I think you’re underestimating the voters.”

Agatha cackled. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“It’s 2024, kids born during 9/11 are twenty-three. They don’t own anything and have inherited a dying planet, crippling debt, and a callous political state. In fact, gen z is set to outnumber boomers in this coming election.” Rio leaned in, far too close for comfort. “Your precious voting block is dying off and wandering around nursing homes thinking Carter’s still in office.”

And if there was one thing about Agatha, she’d stand her ground. “Young people? That’s your grand solution? The ones glued to their screens? The ones who are illiterate post-covid? That’s who you’re betting on?”

Rio shrugged. “Those screens tell them a lot. Like how this administration has been radio silent on fracking yet took PAC money from big oil, how you’ve increased taxes on their wages to up defense spending from 900 billion to a tidy little trillion, how they’ll work for everything and own nothing.” She smirked, eyes filled with what could only be described as hunger. “And they’re fucking pissed.”

“So, if I’m such a lost cause, why the hell are you here?”

“Because I’m good at my job and I love a challenge.”

“A congressional race is not the same as a presidential.”

“I’ve managed races for congressmen, senators, governors.” She listed off breezily. “I’m interested in the big score.”

“You wanna swing your dick around and show off?” Agatha scoffed.

“Like you don’t.”

Agatha leaned in now too, challenging her. “The difference is, I don’t need to wave mine around for everybody to know how big it is.”

“Agatha,” She said, which was disrespectful given they’d only just met. “Let me run this campaign. I can make you someone America will want to vote for.”

She finally pulled away, chuckling and sitting back down. “I don’t need you for that.”

“Who ran your last campaign?”

“I-”

Rio didn’t let her talk, cutting her off. “Sharon Davis.”

“Your point?”

“She was around during Reagan’s era, you really think she’s got what it takes?”

And no, Agatha was certain that Sharon couldn't manage another race, the woman was ancient and out of touch.

“It’s of no concern to you.”

Rio scoffed. “Agatha Harkness, fifty-one, born in Salem, Massachusetts. Raised by Evanora and Robert Harkness. Dad died when you were seventeen.” She recited by heart. “He was a senator, a republican at that. In fact, you come from a political family. Once he passed, your mother ran for senate and won. Her major platforms include lowered taxes on the ultra wealthy, lax gun control laws, and christian nationalism.”

Agatha rolled her shoulders as she listened, trying to get them to stop tensing.

“Bet she loved when you came out, huh?”

Agatha tried not to think of her mother.

“Congrats, you can read a fucking wiki page.”

And again, it rolled right off Rio. “You never even mentioned that in your run, you missed sympathy votes, sweetheart.”

Okay, she was hitting her limit. “My mother has nothing to do with my political career, and call me that again and I’ll have you escorted out by security. I’ll tell them to use excessive force.”

Again, the woman was not affected. “You majored pre-law at Yale despite your family’s legacy at Harvard. You completed your law degree at Georgetown then clerked for RBG. You became the first woman governor of Massachusetts at forty. You’re a career politician born and bred.”

“Do you just like to hear yourself speak or is this going somewhere?”

Rio crouched down to Agatha’s eyeline. “You’re too smart to be this stupid.”

“Get out.” Agatha barked.

And Rio didn’t startle but backed off, still grinning like a know-it-all. “Jen has my number, call me when you realize that the Democratic National Convention is in three months and you’re fucked.”

And just like that, scary campaign barbie strutted out as confidently as she had walked in.

Where the hell did she get off? Nobody spoke to Agatha like that, like second in command like that. She had to pick up her jaw from where it had fallen open as Rio disappeared.

A minute later Jen waltzed back in, whiskey in hand. “That twink aide of yours is so fidgety, like he’s scared someone’s gonna smack him at any moment-” She stopped walking when she realized Rio was nowhere to be found.

“Did you scare her off?”

“No.” Agatha pouted.

Jen placed the whiskey and two tumblers on the desk. “You fucking scared her off, didn’t you?”

“Quite the opposite, Kale.” Agatha leaned across to grab the bottle and a glass. “That woman has some fucking nerve, I’ll give you that.”

Jen sat back down across from her. “So you liked her?”

“No.” She poured herself a double, then examined the glass before pouring a triple. “She’s arrogant, smug, and cocky.”

Her chief of staff sighed. “I had to pull a lot of strings to get her here, she doesn’t take just any job, she has to believe that the challenge is worth the fight.”

“She said she’s looking for the big score, wants to make a name for herself.”

“That’s what we all want.”

Agatha sipped the liquor, letting it burn her throat. “But something about the way she said it, the way she just fucking-” She grunted. “Fuck, there’s something there I don’t like.”

Jen poured herself a glass too. “She’s too much like you.”

“What? No. I was never like that-”

“Agatha, I’ve been on your staff since you were running for governor.” Jen chided. “Two sides, same coin.”

“You’re cracked.”

“You’re in need of a campaign manager. A good one. She’s it.”

“Where’s POTUS?” Agatha asked through another sip.

“Probably sleeping, at the residence.”

She knocked back more than a shot's worth of booze. “I’m going to see him.” And stood, slipping her stilettos back on from where they had been abandoned under her desk.

As Agatha booked it out of her office and towards the exit of the building, Jen followed. “Agatha! You cannot just wake the president from sleep.”

“What’s he gonna do? Fire me?”

Agatha was on a fucking mission, her legs carrying her to her final destination with ease. Five minutes later she was stampeding down the walls of the white house, waving off secret service and pounding on Steve’s door.

The door creaked open, revealing a grown man, the leader of this country, in his fucking jammies. “Agatha, what the hell?”

“You’re dropping out! That’s the hell!”

“Yeah.” He yawned.

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“You found out, didn’t you?”

“You give me three months? Three fucking months before the DNC?!” She shouted.

“I’ll back you, the party will have no other choice. It’s what you wanted, right?” He scratched his head.

“I wanted a real run!” She snapped. “You’ve fucked me, Steve! Fucked me! No lube, no foreplay. Just stuck it right in, didn’t you?!”

“Jesus.”

“Do you know how many Americans just won’t vote now? They thought they’d chosen you and now that’s gonna blow back on me.”

“They’ll get over it.”

“You could’ve told me, and you didn’t. Why?”

He tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes. “Honestly? I didn’t want to deal with a power hungry leech.”

“What the fuck-“

“C’mon, Agatha. I know just as well as you do this was a stepping stone. If I got shot dead tomorrow, you wouldn’t even wait for my body to go cold before you addressed the nation.”

“Well neither did LBJ…”

“I knew you were gonna do what you do.” He raised his hands in surrender. “I’m washing my hands of it and retiring, Godspeed.”

“That’s it?”

“My wife is sick, and it’s because of this fucking job.” He stated. “Nothing's worth losing her.”

What a dumbass, giving up all that for a girl.

“Fucking idiot.” She mumbled. “In your statement tomorrow, you’re saying how you have the utmost confidence in me and my ability to run this country.”

“Fine.”

“And that serving this country with me by your side has been the greatest pleasure of your sad, heterosexual life.”

“Done. Can you let me fucking sleep now?”

She got what she wanted, though she could yell at him for a lifetime if she had the availability.

“Fine.” She affirmed, turning on her heel.

Jen fell in step next to her.

“Give me your phone.” Agatha demanded, palm out as she stormed back to the Eisenhower building.

“Why?” Jen handed the phone over.

And Agatha hated that she was right, that the woman had gotten to her, to her brain.

“I’m calling Wanda, she needs to put out a press release from my office.”

“Saying?”

“I’m running,” Agatha sighed, angrily tapping the phone. “With Rio Vidal as my campaign manager.”

Chapter Text

It was the next day when a thick stack of files were dropped onto her desk. Agatha had barely slept between yelling at Steve and coming back to her office, but she was used to running on little to no sleep. Most politicians were.

She looked up to find her campaign manager standing in front of her desk, grinning ear-to-ear.

“I booked you on GMA tomorrow to talk about your run and VP pick.” Rio said.

She didn’t make the call to let Rio know she got the job, couldn’t take the smirk she’d no doubt hear over the line, but fuck, if this woman didn’t live up to her word.

“I haven’t picked a running mate.” Agatha grumbled, six shot americano in hand.

Rio pointed to the files. “You’re about to.”

The rest of her team was already in her office.

Jen, chief of staff.

Wanda, director of communications.

William, personal aide and bag bitch.

Alice, deputy director of communications.

She rolled her eyes and set her coffee down, hauling the files across her desk. She opened the first one, recognizing the name and government headshot.

“Natasha Romanoff?” Agatha asked in disbelief.

“Senator from Washington, liberals love her because she’s pro-choice and pro-the legalization of weed. Moderates love her because she-“ Rio began listing off her qualifications.

“People like her cause she’s hot and charismatic.” Agatha interrupted.

“God forbid.” Wanda murmured from the couch.

“She went on Fallon like a month ago and killed.” Alice added.

Agatha sighed and moved to the next folder, and Rio has got to be fucking with her.

“Carol Danvers.” Agatha almost laughed.

“Representative from California.” Rio opened her mouth again, much to Agatha’s disappointment. “She’s a veteran, that always helps optics.”

“She’s also a she.” Agatha pointed out. “I can’t believe you’re gonna make me say this,” She closed the file. “But I need a man. An old, white, man, knocking on death’s door.”

Rio didn’t falter. “I told you. It isn’t about gender, it’s about your image, your outreach, your likability.”

Agatha sat back in her chair. “I’m liked.”

She chuckled. “You were tolerated, but that’s when you had ‘America’s Ass’ next to you, calling all the shots.”

“That was a stupid fucking fluff piece that came out during the election, I don’t need arm candy to prove myself.”

“No, you don’t. But you do need someone who people like.” Rio reached over and opened the last file in the stack. “Like her.”

Agatha almost keeled over laughing as she saw the name and face. “Lilia motherfucking Calderu? She’s socialist nutjob who should’ve retired years ago.”

“She’s also won every election as the incumbent for the past eight years.”

“Yeah, cause it’s Illinois, of course she has the numbers there.”

Rio huffed like she was trying to play chess with a toddler. “Look, gen z and millennials love her, she’s seen as trustworthy, and most importantly, she’ll bring in midwestern votes.”

“She’s famous on twitter and tiktok.” William, the twenty-four year old aide, spoke. “They made memes of her from president Roger’s inauguration. They call her ‘America’s Nona’.”

“Quiet, pet.” Agatha scolded, keeping eye contact with Rio. “Nobody will vote for an all female ticket, this isn't Norway or Sweden, or- fuck, what’s the Nordic country that has a woman in charge?”

“Like, all of them…?” Jen answered.

Agatha thought for a minute. “Denmark, I’m thinking of Denmark.”

“As I’ve said before, people see you as too moderate, you need someone left of center to prove you’re not just a yes-man.” Rio refocused the conversation.

“I’m pro-choice, I’m pro-regulating big business, I’m pro fucking half the shit that these dumbasses care about. And she isn’t left of center, she’s a fucking outlier falling off the political spectrum.”

Rio sighed in frustration. “Lilia will give you the legitimacy you need.”

“She’ll alienate any moderates!” Agatha shouted.

“Stop trying to appeal to everyone!” Rio shouted back without even missing a beat.

Usually that worked on other people, the shouting.

“Her major platform is universal healthcare, do you realize how hard that is to sell to the Democratic Party?”

“So you compromise.” Rio shrugged. “You wanna regulate big business? Start with the insurance companies, make it part of your platform.”

“She wants to make college free.”

“You’re already working on bipartisan support for student loan forgiveness.” Rio placed both hands on her desk, leaning over. “Do you trust me, Agatha?”

Easy answer?

“Not a fucking inch.”

“I told you, I’m in this for me just as much as you are for yourself.” Rio spoke lowly. “Lilia is your running mate.”

She saw the merit in it, Lilia was well liked by her constituents, she was well known by DC standards, she had pull in the midwest. But she couldn’t just give in, that would be admitting she was wrong.

“I doubt she’ll even do it, she hates me.”

Rio scowled. “What’d you do?”

“Why do you assume I did something?”

“Agatha…”

“I might’ve called her kooky-”

“Agatha!”

“Or wispy, or something, I- I forget.” Agatha tried to brush off any accountability.

Rio huffed. “I’ll get her in here later today and we can grease palms then.”

“Grease palms? Is this the 50s?”

She ignored that, moving on. “Next order of business, your image.”

“My image?”

“Wanda?” Rio asked, prompting the redhead to approach the desk.

Wanda opened a folder. “We pulled what was said about you from the last focus group and polling.”

Agatha sighed, she already knew what it’d say.

“Most people describe you as shrill, short-tempered, or secretive.” Wanda began. “You don’t poll well with the under 30 demo or the over 60, both groups don’t think you care about their interests.”

“How can I be hated by every generation?”

Rio chuckled. “Because people know nothing about you.”

“That’s not true, you recited my entire career last night.”

“Yeah because that’s all you speak about.”

Agatha pursed her lips. “What else am I supposed to talk about?”

“How was it growing up conservative as a lesbian? Why have you never been seen with a significant other? What do you like to do in your free time?” Rio rattled off.

“It was fine, my personal life is personal, and read, I guess.”

“And there’s the secretiveness…” Wanda mumbled.

“Anything else?” Agatha rhetorically asked.

“Yeah, actually, people think you look cold.” Wanda said, obviously not realizing the sarcasm.

“Cold?”

Rio took this one. “The American population doesn’t like that you always dress in dark colors and look like Cruella de Vil.”

Agatha self-consciously ran a hand through her hair, pausing where it had gone gray. “You said yourself I’m a career politician, this is what happens when you work in politics long enough, it sucks the life out of you.”

“Well,” Wanda interjected. “Technically people think you and Tulsi Gabbard look alike.”

“But you’re so much prettier.” William chimed in.

“The right-wing bitch who supports conversion therapy?” Agatha gawked. “Should I dye it?”

“No.” Rio said. “Then you’ll look vain, plus I think it suits you.”

Agatha wanted to tell her to fuck off, but she had bigger problems to worry about.

She stood, letting out a groan. “Is there any demographic that does like me?”

“Twitter lesbians love you.” William said, though nobody was really speaking to him.

Still, Agatha looked at him. “Come again?”

“William, we said we weren’t going to tell her about that…” Alice muttered.

“What’s Twitter lesbians?” She cluelessly, innocently questioned.

Jen sighed. “It’s nothing.”

“Someone show me, or I’ll start firing, no mercy!”

Rio grumbled. “Fine, here. Damn.” Pulling out her phone and opening twitter.

Agatha tapped for a moment, but for the life of her, didn’t know what was happening. The veep had official accounts on all major social media platforms, but Wanda or Alice ran it, Agatha barely figured out Facebook before she pawned it off on her team as governor.

“I don’t-“ She swiped harder on the screen, just finding news. “I don’t know how to work this shit.”

Rio took the phone back. “My god, and you’re a heartbeat away from the nuclear codes….here.” She placed it on the desk, prompting Agatha to sit back down and scroll.

Her eyes flickered along the screen, not making out a damn word. “William, glasses.” She outstretched her hand.

He rummaged in his messenger bag for a moment before looking ill, like a little kid who knows they’re in trouble.

“I, um, I think you left them in the conference room this morning…”

Agatha quirked a brow. “So…? Go get them.”

“Yes, madam vice president.” He obediently replied, sprinting out of her office.

Agatha threw the phone across her desk. “Read me those.”

Rio scoffed. “You want me to read these out loud?”

“Did I stutter?”

“Fine.” Rio smirked, she raised the phone in her palm. “Need her to shove that arm so far into my guts, her hand will be able to make my mouth open and close like a muppet.”

Agatha’s eyes widened, any retort slipping her mind.

Rio seemed to enjoy it, so she kept going. “This one is just a close up picture of your hand,” She showed Agatha before reading the accompanying script. “‘Till my walls remember each finger's circumference.”

She blinked. “…right.”

“This is you in suit at the state of the union address- Daddy it hurts, go deeper.”

“Okay-“

“You in heels,” Rio flipped the screen. “And that’s an edited image of a pelvic x-ray where it looks like the tip of your stiletto is in-“

“Yeah. I got it.”

“Here’s you giving an impassioned speech at the HRC benefit, to which this user said, need her to look at me like this and degrade me and say I’m not good enough then fill me up with Harkness sperm and leave me leaking.”

That one didn’t even make sense-

But her fucking campaign manager kept going, making her squirm. “I know it’s eight and a half inches, solid gold, realistic veins, harness made from imported Italian leather.”

“I get it!” Agatha nearly yelled. “And who’d get eight and a half inches to start with?”

Rio smiled knowingly. “Someone who’d wanna swing their dick around.”

And she wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of blushing or flustering, she was the fucking vice president, she would not let this woman affect her like that.

“Classy.” She deadpanned. “So if I’m popular on…that, why do my numbers with young people suck?”

“Oh,” Rio looked at her like she was some naïve freshman. “No, most of these users either don’t live in the US or find you hot but don’t want to vote for you.”

“Okay, that’s it, everyone out.” Agatha shouted to her team, narrowing her eyes at Rio. “Except you.”

Everyone packed up their things and left, the door softly clicking behind them.

Agatha rounded her desk, standing in front of Rio. “What the fuck is your problem?”

She batted her eyelashes, feigning ignorance. “What do you mean, madam vice president?”

“Cut the shit, you’re here to advise me, not dictate my campaign completely.”

The other woman rolled her shoulders back, standing tall. “That’s not my intention at all.”

But those deep pools of amber told Agatha the opposite.

“If you wanna be in control…you can be.”

Agatha took a step, sharing the same breath with Rio.

“You’re green and you’re hungry, I get it. But if your hubris costs me the White House come November, I will make you regret ever setting foot in DC.”

She cocked her head, unaffected by the threat. “I’d expect nothing less.”

Neither one backed down, staring at one another for a minute before William burst in.

“Got your glasses, ma’am!” He spoke through labored breaths.

Agatha took the glasses and sat back down, addressing Rio without looking at her. “I can sit down with Calderu at one, make it happen.”

“You’re the boss.” Rio playfully acknowledged as she left her office.

She felt like the air had returned to her lungs as her campaign manager took her leave. Agatha hadn’t even been aware that Rio had stolen the oxygen to begin with, but she was the only thing different in her vicinity.

“William, my coffee's cold.” She scolded, as if the boy was at fault.

He eagerly nodded, picking up the cup and running out to fix it. “On it!”

Afternoon rolled around around Jen knocked on her door. “Madam vice president, governor Calderu and Rio are here.”

Agatha slipped off her glasses and moved from her desk. “Bring them in.”

She shook Lilia’s hand with a polite smile. “Governor.”

“Madam vice president.” Lilia responded in the same fake manner.

“Sit, please.” She motioned to the couch across from the one she sat down on, expecting Rio to sit in the armchair or stand, instead she placed herself right next to Agatha.

She ignored it. “I’m sure you know why I’ve asked to see you.”

Agatha heard Rio snicker, almost unnoticeable to anyone else, but she clocked it.

Smug bitch.

“I have an idea, yes.” Lilia said.

“I wanted to-”

“Though,” Lilia spoke. “I don’t know why you’d ask me, aren’t I too- what was it? Kooky? Wispy?”

Agatha groaned. “Those were an unfortunate choice of words.”

“Well which is it? Am I wispy or am I kooky?”

“Governor, I asked you here today to see if you’d consider being my running mate, not rehash old squabbles.”

Lilia gave a look of utter disbelief. “Not a fucking chance in hell.”

“You haven’t even heard the pitch.” Agatha drawled.

Lilia chuckled, but it held no humor. “I don’t need to, what politician in their right mind would join Agatha Harkness’ administration?”

She smirked. “Not looking for right-minded politicians, as it happens.”

“People like you are why politics have turned into a farce, why the public thinks we all only care about money and fame.”

“Well money is nice.” Agatha quipped.

Lilia started to stand. “Beat it, Harkness.”

“Fine, we’ll find someone else, you’ve broken my heart, Lilia.” She deadpanned, beginning to stand too.

“Wait,” Rio commanded, not suggested.

They both sat back down and Rio stood.

Wait, why did Agatha sit back down? Why did she take an order from her underling?

She turned to Lilia. “Look, governor, I know you two differ on policies and general morals and ethics…”

“Excuse me.” Agatha took offense.

“But, you need her just as much as she needs you. You know what happens if she loses? That evil little man she’s running against wins, and he won’t work with you or anyone in your party. He’ll gut it. He’s taking aim at the environment, human rights, education, and you’ll be farther from universal healthcare than you ever have been.”

Damn, maybe this woman was considered the best for a reason.

“Your forty years in government won’t mean shit if he gets to the oval, he’ll decimate the economy, line his own pockets, and the public will be the ones suffering as a result. Now, do you want that to happen?”

Lilia flared her nostrils, face twisted in defeat. “No, I don’t want that to happen.”

Rio smiled, a practiced one. “Then she’s your girl.”

“I really am a delight when you get to know me.” Agatha grinned.

“So,” Rio breathed out. “Can we count on you?”

“Running for president and losing is a political death wish.” Lilia muttered.

Agatha shrugged. “I survived.”

Lilia raised her eyebrows. “Yeah, where’s your power now?”

Nowhere, it was literally fucking nowhere.

“Time to amend that.” Agatha replied in earnest. “I need your juice.”

“On one condition,” Lilia looked her dead in the eye. “You tell me everything, I won’t be made a fool of because you fuck something up.”

“What do you think I’m going to do?”

“If you’re anything like your mother, you’re capable of a hell of a lot of destruction.”

Agatha worked her jaw, it wasn’t the first time her mother’s many, many missteps overshadowed her, probably wouldn’t be the last.

“You have my word.”

Lilia scowled. “If only that meant something.”

The silence that followed afterwards was suffocating.

Rio broke the tension. “Great, I’ll have Wanda draft up a statement. Lilia, get in a car or go home or something, we need to film Agatha calling and asking you for socials.”

“Happy to serve.” Lilia grumbled as she left.

Rio followed her, closing the door. “Okay, now that that’s done, lets talk campaign stops. They’re wrapping the bus as we speak-”

She stopped when she noticed Agatha was still on the couch, unmoving.

“What’s wrong? Why are you like that?”

She turned her head. “Do you think I even have a chance?”

“What do you mean?”

“Between my mother, and Lilia, and what the focus groups say-” Agatha shook her head, trying to knock the thoughts loose. “Am I wasting my time? My staff’s time?”

Rio sat down next to her. “I wouldn’t be here if I thought you were.”

“Could just let it all burn you know, hide away at my country home in Massachusetts. Retire, drink, ride.”

“Ride?”

“Horses, I have a stable.”

“Of course you do.” She huffed. “Here’s the truth. It’ll be an uphill battle, but that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. We get our platform together, make you a little less scary head bitch in charge, a little more fun lesbian aunt…it could work.”

“Fun lesbian aunt?”

“People love a fun aunt.”

Agatha exhaled. “Fine.”

“And hey, I voted for you in the primaries four years ago.”

“Fuck off, you did not.”

“I did.” Rio laughed and grabbed Agatha’s face, smushing it. “And you can trust me, because I don’t care enough about you to lie.”

Agatha pulled her face back, the physical touch feeling foreign. “Why?”

Rio’s phone rang and she started fishing it out from the inner pocket of her blazer. “Why’d I vote for you?”

“Yeah.”

She held her phone, gazing down at Agatha with a cocky curl of her lips.

“Thought you were hot.” Rio said and answered her phone, striding out of the office. “What now?”

Agatha stayed there, staring at where her campaign manager just was, trying to recount what she had just said that would prompt Rio to say that. Nothing, she had said nothing. Right? And who votes based on hotness?

And why did that comment root itself in her brain? It didn’t. It wouldn’t. Inappropriate remarks aside, Rio was doing her job. So there was no reason for Agatha to waste brain cells trying to decipher what she meant.

“William!” Agatha yelled out, hearing the rushed pitter-patter of her aide’s feet approaching.

“Yes, ma’am?”

She held out her hand.

“Advil, I have a headache.”

And waited as he opened the bag, searching for a mythical pill that would rid her mind of her insufferable campaign manager.

Chapter Text

“Okay, next one-” Rio said, pacing back and forth in Agatha’s office.

She whined. “We’ve been at this all night, and I have to be on Air Force Two and in New York for GMA in-” Agatha checked her watch. “Five hours.”

“Veep need her beauty sleep?” Rio pouted in false concern.

“Everyone else has gone home, you should do the same.” Agatha ignored the verbal jab, leaning back in her chair.

“We still have questions to get through, questions you need to be able to answer perfectly.”

Agatha rolled her eyes. “I’ve been in politics longer than you’ve been able to rent a car. I’ll be fine.”

Her campaign manager stopped pacing. “You can’t just be fine, Agatha. You have to be great. He can get away with being lazy and unqualified, you on the other hand? You have to be extraordinary for a fraction of the same recognition.”

Damnit, she was right, and Agatha hated it more than anything else. Well, almost anything, she definitely hated losing more.

“Ask me the next one.” She groaned.

“Why’d you get into politics?”

“The power and the pussy.” Agatha grinned.

“Not funny.” Rio looked at her sternly. “Also you’re lacking on both fronts, so.”

Agatha dropped her jaw in shock. “And how do you know?”

“DC is small, if you were fucking someone, I would know by now.”

“You gossip about me, Vidal?”

“I’m just saying, how easy can it be to have casual sex as the vice president? My guess is not very.”

“Maybe I’m fucking aides or interns.”

Rio smirked. “You aren’t. But even if you were, I doubt it’d be fulfilling. Probably why you’re so stressed all the time.”

“Are you, my employee, telling me that I need to get laid?”

“Maybe you’d feel better after an orgasm or two, or six.”

She cocked her head. “Are you offering?”

“Do you want me to be?”

No, no she did not.

She didn’t, because that would be a world-class fuck up on her part.

So she couldn’t want that.

No, she didn’t.

Definitely not.

Agatha stood, palms resting on the solid wood of her desk. “You should go, we’ll go through more questions on the plane.”

Rio rounded her desk, stopping just shy of their hips touching, placing the notecards of questions in front of her.

“Okay, Agatha.” She said, but it came out soft, almost breathy.

Agatha swallowed. “Goodnight.”

“You never answered my question.” Rio stepped closer, crowding her.

“What?” Agatha’s mouth ran dry, the proximity of this woman was drowning her.

She felt Rio maneuver behind her, hands reaching out and resting on her hips.

“Do you want me to be offering?” Rio’s breath hit her, sending microscopic shivers down her arm.

“This is inappropriate.”

Rio’s nails dug into the bone, gripping. “Answer the question.”

Agatha searched for her self-restraint as she felt her campaign manager's body pressed up against her. “I have power over you-”

“Then let go of it.” She husked, gathering Agatha’s hair to one side of her neck, gently pressing her lips to a rapidly beating pulse.

Agatha didn’t do that.

She definitely didn’t do this, play coy while someone else initiates.

But unbelievably soft lips were trailing down her neck, and a hand was wandering closer to the waistband of her trousers.

And as a last ditch effort, a plea, Agatha spoke. “Rio.”

“Let go.” She whispered along her throat. “You deserve that, baby.”

She was not her baby, she was not letting go, she was-

Weak, apparently.

She turned in Rio’s hold, locking eyes with the other woman for just a moment before she shot forward. She didn’t think, didn’t want to, not with Rio standing in front of her, ready and willing.

When her mouth met Rio’s, it was like something inside her snapped. Something she had put away and locked up for four godforsaken years ago. She felt ravenous, pressing her mouth against the other woman’s with as much fiery as she had in her.

Which, admittedly, was a lot.

The younger woman responded by tugging her closer, opening her mouth wider, sliding her tongue against Agatha’s.

It was just a moment of weakness, that’s what she told herself as Rio’s hand reached the buttons of her shirt. There was no care, she just yanked until the shirt was open, buttons flying and clattering around them.

“You’re so fucking hot,” Rio panted against her lips. “And I can’t wait to make you moan my name.”

Agatha almost laughed, almost cackled. There was no way she’d let this fucking woman take control. Agatha was always in control-

Always.

She planned on saying just that until Rio’s lips trailed down her neck, over her collarbones, and down to her sternum. She pushed Agatha’s bra up like a minor inconvenience and eagerly sucked.

Agatha’s head fell back at the feeling, the feeling of someone taking what they wanted from her without remorse. The feeling of someone making the decisions for her instead of asking.

She felt drunk and Rio had barely done anything. Agatha looked down at her campaign manager, her fucking employee, as she took one of her already hardened nipples into her mouth, sucking before lightly biting.

Every inch of her was ablaze. Rio had one hand palming her breast, the other clutching her hipbone like someone would take Agatha away from her at any minute.

Her brain-

Well she didn’t have one anymore.

But if she did, it’d tell her she needed more. More of whatever this was, whatever was happening in her office at one in the morning. She grabbed the hand off her hip and placed it at the apex of her thighs.

“Please.” She whimpered.

She never whimpered.

She made the other women she fucked whimper.

Rio’s hand cupped her, flexing ever so slightly, careful not to give any actual relief.

“Do you want me to be offering?” Rio repeated since Agatha had never truly answered the question.

“Yes.” She ground out without thinking, none of what was happening right now constituted thoughts.

Rio smirked. “Good girl.”

And the way Agatha’s stomach flipped, dropped, stuttered at the praise-

Should be fucking studied. Like in a lab, with scholars. She’d fund that research.

Rio’s hand deftly moved past the waist of her slacks, not even bothering to unbutton them, under her panties, and to her already soaked cunt.

“Madam vice president,” Rio husked. “You’re dripping for me.”

Agatha wouldn’t dignify that with a response, instead opting to throw her arms over Rio’s shoulders and hold on for dear life. The other woman backed her up until she was sitting on the desk, legs splayed.

Skilled fingers finally made contact with her clit, applying barely any pressure. It didn’t matter, Agatha moaned anyway.

“Rio-“

“There it is.” She praised, fingers running along her slit, collecting her wetness before massaging her clit again.

“You sound so good for me, baby.” She uttered and dove back into Agatha’s chest, biting, sucking, licking.

Agatha arched her back, trying to find more, and pressed her nails into Rio’s shoulders. “More.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Fingers.” Agatha said, breathless, canting her hips forward.

“You’ve already got them.”

She fought against rolling her eyes, instead looking at Rio.

“Fuck me.”

Rio pretended to look scandalized. “Madam vice president, what would they say?”

“Rio,” She pleaded, the other woman’s fingers wouldn’t move where she needed them to. “Please fuck me.”

Rio’s hand, the one in her pants, finally moved forward, closer to where Agatha needed them. She was already clenching around nothing and needed to be filled, to be fucked, to be taken on this desk right here, right now.

“Agatha.” Rio whispered.

And she nodded, two fingers moving along her slit, so close.

“Ma’am, you need to wake up.”

She jolted at that.

“Wake up, ma’am.” Rio said, but it wasn’t her voice.

The hand was gone, so was Rio. Everything went dark until her eyes fluttered open, revealing her bedroom.

That fucking twink loomed over her, looking down with concern. “Ma’am?”

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Her holy body felt like it was in shock, like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on her and now her nerves were frayed. Her nipples were straining against her camisole, and her underwear was sticking to her beneath her silk pajama pants.

She sprung up, clutching the sheets. “What the fuck, William?!”

His face no longer looked concerned, now it looked like he was trying not to piss himself out of fear. “Sorry, madam vice president, I was told to grab you since we need to get to the tarmac and you weren’t in your office.”

“Told by who?!” She yelled.

“Rio and Jen.” He mumbled.

She couldn’t fucking escape this woman, conscious or unconscious.

“In the future, if I ever see you in my bedroom again,” Agatha hissed. “I will waterboard you and then drown you in the fucking Potomac!”

“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded. “Are you, uh, alright?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You just were like groaning a lot…and twitching.” He avoided eye contact. “Bad dream?”

“Nightmare.”

The aide smiled. “Oh, I get those all the time.”

“William?”

“Yes?”

“Get the fuck out of my room!”

“Right.” He said and scurried out, closing the door behind him.

After a very cold shower and changing into a sweater and leggings, Agatha went downstairs, gracing her staff with her presence.

“Finally!” Jen said. “We have to be on Air Force Two in half an hour.”

“I didn’t hear my alarm!” She shouted in lieu of an apology.

Rio chuckled, looking down at her phone. “Veep need her beauty sleep?”

Agatha’s breath caught, more accurately, her breath was suckerpunched from her lungs as she tried not to think about the very vivid dream-

Nightmare.

She had just experienced.

“Well,” She clapped her hands together. “Let’s hit the road, shall we?”

The flight from DC to New York was short, and as a result, they had to work while a woman Agatha had never met before slapped makeup on her face.

“What’s this dark year between Yale and Georgetown?” Rio asked, laptop on the table in front of her.

“What do you mean?” Agatha willed her voice to stay calm.

“Your entire political and academic career is public knowledge, except for a year where you weren’t seen, heard from, or enrolled anywhere.”

The only person who knew about that was Jen, and even then it was only because she'd known Jen since their senior year of college. Hell, that’s why she’s had Jen on her staff since she was governor.

Agatha wanted to roll her eyes, but this woman was currently coating them in far too much mascara. “Gap year.”

“You? A gap year?” Rio’s tone was disbelieving.

“That’s what I just said, is it not?”

“I’m just trying to make sure there’s nothing I need to get ahead of. Skeletons in your closet, liabilities.”

The dead couldn’t be much of a liability.

“Spent the year in France fucking women and day drinking.” Agatha finally looked at her. “Got plenty ‘ahead’ then.”

Rio didn’t laugh, but she swore she saw the corner of her mouth curve upwards almost imperceptibly.

“I hung your clothes in the cabin, ma’am.” William said as he sat down.

“Public reception to your announcing your candidacy has been surprisingly positive.” Wanda said, combing through a folder of papers.

“If you were a man or married, you’d be a shoe-in.” Alice added.

“I can fix one of those things.” Agatha grinned. “Wanda, honey, wanna be my FLOTUS?”

Wanda laughed, almost folding in half as she tried to catch her breath. “There’s not enough political capital in the world.”

“What the fuck, I’m a catch!”

“Not enough to be ‘the wife of’.” Wanda said through her giggles.

“The wife of?” William asked.

“You know, like how every first lady in recent memory has given up her own dreams and career to be the wife of the president, like Hillary or even Peggy.” Rio explained. “Peggy was a successful judge, well respected, at the top of her field. Then Rogers won in 2020 and now-”

“She’s just the wife of.” Wanda finished.

Agatha rolled her shoulders back. “Well, then I’m out of options.”

“Why didn’t you ask me?” Jen squawked.

“Because of Alice.” Agatha pointed.

“Me?” Alice whipped her head around. “Why me?”

Agatha motioned between them. “Because you two are fucking.”

“Agatha!” Jen scolded.

She pursed her lips. “Was that not public knowledge?”

“No, no it wasn’t.” Alice grumbled.

“You shouldn’t be trying to marry your staff anyways.” Jen cocked her head. “Not very presidential.”

“One, you shouldn’t be fucking your co-workers.” Agatha smirked. “Two, it’s very presidential to harass female staffers if we are going by almost every American president ever.”

“Okay, go get dressed.” Rio said, apparently wanting to move on from the conversation. “I picked it out.”

“Oh,” She smiled as she stood. “I’m sure I’ll hate it.”

“Keep practicing that smile! If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were pleasant!” Rio called after her.

And yes, Agatha hated this stupid fucking outfit as she wait in the GMA studio. She fiddled with the collar of the pink cashmere mockneck and lapels of the white blazer, then tugged on the waist of the matching white slacks. She looked like president Barbie.

“Stop fidgeting.” Rio spoke, standing next to her.

Her campaign manager had her arms crossed over her chest, eyes tracking the movements around them, observing her surroundings like a fucking hawk.

“You made me look like a republicans wet dream, I’m going to fucking fidget.”

Rio turned to her. “Do you think it says something that you associate overt femininity with conservative values? Like how you might’ve rejected anything considered too feminine to feel accepted in a male dominated field?”

Agatha blew out a breath. “I just hate pink.”

“Be grateful I didn’t put you in a skirt, Agatha. Then we’d really have a problem.”

She’d rather not think about what would occur if she was around Rio in a skirt, her brain was in timeout and it did not need new material for more nightmares.

“Pink reminds people I’m a woman, I can’t have that be the first thing people think when they see me.”

“I think people know you’re a woman.”

“No,” Agatha firmly stated. “I need to be a politician who happens to be a woman, not a woman politician. Or better yet, I’m not even a woman, just a politician.”

“Ah yes, politician, the elusive third gender.” The other woman snickered. “Jesus, second wave feminism really fucked up your generation.”

“Yeah,” She raised one of her brows. “You’re welcome by the way.”

“Thank you for fighting for my rights from your ivory tower.” Rio deadpanned. “You’re up after this segment.”

“Have you ever considered how fourth wave feminism fucked up this current generation?”

“Too woke for you?” She quipped.

“Isn’t all just exhausting?”

Rio blinked. “What’s exhausting about it?”

“Back when I started, you just handled it yourself. Senator grabbed your ass? You told him to knock it off or you’d tell the press about his coke addiction, maybe kill his bill or threaten to fuck his wife. Nowadays, though, it's a whole thing.”

“Yeah and I'm sure back in your day you all pulled yourselves up by your bootstraps too, right?”

“See?” She sprawled out her arms. “Woke.”

“You fucked a senators wife?”

“No.” Agatha shrugged. “But I could’ve.”

The interview went well, she smiled, she laughed, she was personable, all the bullshit that was required of her. Near the end, the cheery blonde woman interviewing her asked the question that Agatha knew she fucking would, the one she dreaded.

“Now, some are saying it was a mistake for you to go for an all female ticket, stating that America isn’t ready for not just one but two women to be leading this country, do you have any thoughts on that, madam vice president?”

She thought that she wanted to strangle her campaign manager until the other woman turned blue, that’s what she thought.

But those thoughts don’t get people off their asses and into voting booths, so she decided to give Rio’s bullshit ideology a shot.

“I would say that men have gotten us where we are now.” She grinned. “Americans are unhappy, bottom line. We want to fix that. Governor Calderu and I are the best people for the job.”

“So you didn’t take gender into consideration when picking your running mate?”

“The only thing I took into consideration was experience and track record.” Agatha lied through her teeth. “Governor Calderu has a long history of standing in her convictions, that’s the kind of person I want to run a country with.”

“And what would you say to the people that take issue with an all female ticket?”

Agatha dropped her voice ever so slightly to convey sincerity. “I’d say that there will always be people who feel threatened by strong, ambitious women. There will always be people who try to undermine the achievements of women who do not value the same things as them.”

She subtly looked at Rio behind the camera, seeing her motioning for Agatha to keep going.

“And I know because I’ve been on the receiving end of the people who lash out over the fear of progress. They’ll always be there, but we can’t let them hold us back.”

Rio motioned for what Agatha assumed was a grand finale, who knows the studio lights were fucking blinding.

But, with a perfect politician smile, she stuck the landing. “There’ll always be torches and pitchforks for ladies like us. Same story, different century.”

The interview ended and she thanked the woman before hauling ass off the stage, immediately clawing at the shirt and the microphone cord underneath it.

Rio met her, trying to help. “Stop, just-”

Agatha dropped her hands away at the feeling of Rio reaching under the top, unwinding the wire. Her breath hitched at the lightest contact of Rio's fingers brushing against her abdomen.

“I can do that myself.” She barely got it out, one touch and her throat closed.

Rio gave her a disapproving look. “Not without ripping, tearing, or breaking something you can't."

“Rio-”

“I almost got it.” She assured, hand now finding her bra strap and unfastening the last of the mic. “See?”

Her campaign manager pulled it out and handed it off to a PA. “You did great, socials are gonna fucking love it.”

Agatha swallowed, trying to look like it didn’t matter that Rio’s hand was just up her shirt. Nobody else seemed to notice or care, like it was innocent.

“I sounded like I was in the fucking Vagina Monologues!” She shouted in hushed tones, crew still racing around them, show still going.

“You sounded like someone young women will want to vote for!” Rio corrected.

She grabbed Rio’s wrist until she found an empty dressing room a little ways away, closing the door and trying not to lose her shit.

She stared down the other woman.

“I could’ve just ended my career out there and you’re gloating?”

“I didn’t tell you to say that.”

“You didn’t have to! You got in my head and it just came out!”

Rio didn’t look scared as Agatha’s volume got louder. “Good! It’s not the 80’s anymore, Agatha-”

“Madam vice president.” Agatha snapped.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s madam vice president, or ma’am, pick one and use it. Anything else is unprofessional.”

Two owlish eyes blinked. “Did I do something to offend you?”

“Yes, my god, yes! You have been around me for three days and you’re driving me insane. How you got this far in your career is fucking mindboggling!”

“What have I done?” Rio’s voice was calm, which only enraged her more.

“You...you-” Agatha was trying to find examples, evidence of Rio’s lacking performance, but as she combed through her memory, she came up empty.

“I what?” Rio goaded.

“You called me hot!” Was all Agatha’s ivy league IQ could come up with.

Rio looked at her as though she were an idiot. “Okay…I’m sorry?”

“It’s not an apology if it’s phrased as a question.”

“I promise not to do it again?”

“Stop answering me with the same inflection!”

“I don’t know what you want me to say!” Rio finally raised her voice.

Yeah, Agatha didn’t know what she wanted Rio to say either.

She took a step closer. “Just stop saying anything at all.”

Rio took one too. “That’s not really gonna work, Agatha.”

“Madam vice president!” She screamed out of frustration.

“Fucking hell, woman!” Rio yelled back.

There was a knock on the door and they both looked over at the source.

“Come in.” Agatha said as she inhaled a deep breath, trying to reign herself in. She took a few steps backwards, needing the space from Rio.

Wanda appeared, phone in hand. “I just thought you’d want to take a look at this.” She handed it over to Rio. “And we can hear you guys.”

Rio looked down at the phone, swiping the screen a few times, before smiling at Agatha with a razor sharp smirk. “Still think I just ruined your career?”

She took the phone and swiped at it too, the screen filled with people saying how inspiring Agatha’s message was, how likable the interview made her seem.

“Here.” Wanda scrolled a couple more times and brought Agatha to a page filled with people repeating the same line over and over.

‘Same story, different century.’

How the fuck were people making graphics and shit already?

“What is this?” Agatha asked her staffers.

“Congratulations, madam vice president." Rio said. "You just found your campaign slogan."

Chapter Text

So Agatha is fucking insane.

That much was clear to Rio after working on her campaign for ten days now, officially.

Not that she hadn’t dealt with worse. Politicians are usually unhinged, narcissistic, petulant fucking whackjobs who’d probably suck their own dick if they could.

And Rio loved breaking them down.

Molding them into something worthwhile.

And Agatha was no different, despite what she might believe.

Yes, she was hot, Rio had eyes, and fucking crucify her, a domineering woman in stilettos did things to her. But more than that, Agatha was unhinged, feral even.

Agatha kept pointing out how hungry Rio was, and if Rio was hungry, Agatha was fucking starving. The woman wanted power and didn’t hide that, which Rio could respect and appreciate, even finding it disturbingly attractive.

She was perfect. She was a challenge, one that Rio could conquer, one that she would make president and fucking break if it was the last thing she ever did.

The campaign trail was officially in full swing, Rio had coordinated the routes, speeches, stops, and appearances in excruciating detail. Agatha had complained about spending so much time in the fly over states, but according to the vice president, if the state wasn’t on a coast, it was a fly over state.

They were on the bus, on their way to an appearance in Tennessee, working on her next speech.

“Okay, Chattanooga today, Nashville tomorrow, then we’re hitting Kentucky before Ohio then the rest of the midwest. I have Lilia meeting us in Illinois before we spend a few days in Wisconsin and Michigan.” Rio rattled off.

Agatha slumped in her chair, “I fucking hate the south and the midwest.” Then thought for a moment. “And the southwest, and northwest, and-”

“You hate America, I get it, don’t we all.”

“The east coast is fine.”

“Little biased, are we?” Rio spoke, jostling as the bus hit a pothole.

“Southerners don’t vote democrat unless they’re in a blue bubble, we’re wasting our time.”

Rio ignored her, instead turning to her aide who was a few seats away. “Did you get me that list of entrance songs?”

“Yeah.” He said, eagerly getting up.

“Sorry, what the fuck is this?” Agatha sat up.

“I made your boy make a list of songs to keep in mind for your next rally or speech, vaguely feminist bullshit that gen z will like.” Rio answered and took the paper from William.

“I’m also helping run your tiktok because Wanda and Alice don’t know how it works.” He proudly stated.

“I have a tiktok?”

Rio read over the list. “Hundred thousand followers and counting.”

“How do I have a tiktok and know nothing about it?”

“Oh,” William said. “I just take a lot of b-roll of you and set it to trending sounds.”

“I don’t know what anything you said means, but okay.” Agatha snatched the list out of Rio’s hand. “I also don’t know what any of these words mean.”

“You don’t have to, just walk out on stage and say your spiel.” Rio answered.

Agatha scrunched her face, putting on her reading glasses. “The Man by Taylor Swift?”

Rio grinned. “See, that’s a good one because gen Z and millennial women alike worship that blondie as their god.”

“Feminonomenon by Chappell Roan?”

“That’s actually about men not being able to make women come, but straight women don’t realize that.”

“Woman by Doja Cat?”

“Little on the nose, but…”

Agatha dropped the paper and tilted her head. “Nissan Altima by Doechii?”

Rio looked at William. “Dude, we’d have to censor that beyond recognition.”

“You said feminist, I gave you feminist.” He shrugged as he walked back to his seat.

“What bullshit appearance is this one?” Agatha sighed.

“Library, you’re reading to children.”

Rio watched as her whole body went rigid across the table, like she went into fight or flight mode.

“Not really into children.” She murmured as she avoided eye contact.

“It’ll make you look warm, like you have a heart.”

Agatha didn’t respond to that, just clenched her jaw tighter than usual. “What if I read to the elderly, or illiterate adults?”

“Not quite as photogenic.”

Jen’s voice carried from across the aisle. “Maybe Agatha has a point, plenty of adults are illiterate, I mean look at most comment sections these days.” She weakly chuckled at her own half assed joke.

Rio looked over at her. “Agatha needs to be seen with kids, she isn’t a mother and she’s pro-choice, Stark is already running with that.”

The past week and a half has been spent with Agatha’s opponent, Tony Stark, spewing subtly misogynistic rhetoric. Agatha isn’t married, she’s a lesbian, she doesn’t have kids, she can’t take care of America’s children when she doesn’t have any of her own, yadda, yadda, yadda. Which was honestly better than what his running mate was saying.

Quill outright said that Agatha had no business running for president, something about being a lonely cat lady. Rio wishes Agatha had a cat, it would make her seem more empathetic.

Agatha didn’t say anything, just nodded, looking back down at whatever was in the binder on her lap.

Jen kept staring at Agatha as if she were going to break, shatter like a porcelain doll at any moment. As Rio flickered her gaze between them, she felt like she fucked up. How she fucked up, she didn’t know, but there was a shift in the energy.

“So the library?” She asked, trying to get Agatha’s attention.

She didn’t receive it, but the vice president spoke. “Yeah, library.”

The rest of the rest of the bus ride was virtually silent, a few murmurs from Alice and Wanda, but otherwise, nothing. When they got to the library, it was like Agatha rebooted herself, straightening her posture and rolling back her shoulders.

Rio could say a lot about this woman, but she was nothing if not an exquisite actor.

“Ready?” She asked, watching her candidate straighten out her pinstripe suit.

“Let’s just get this over with.” Agatha’s tone was curt and unkind, which Rio had never been on the receiving end of.

Sure, Agatha had screamed in her face, but it strangely never felt malicious. This however, right now, on this fucking bus? Agatha’s disdain for her was pretty apparent.

She’d deal with it later. “Okay, let’s go. William, make sure to get as much footage as you can of Agatha interacting with little girls, we’ll post it to that Barbie movie song and people will eat it up.”

“Got it.” He affirmed.

The reading went off like gangbusters, why there’s no record of Agatha interacting with children, Rio didn’t know, but it was fucking gold. She had never seen the woman so gentle and kind, if Rio didn’t know any better, she’d almost think it was genuine.

Rio watched as Agatha spoke to a little boy, maybe five or six years old, laughing at his little comments. She swore she saw a twinkle in Agatha’s eyes, like actual enjoyment, like she was happy to be talking to this kid.

“My mom said you’re going to be president.” The boy said.

Agatha snorted a little, something that Rio had noticed she only did when she actually found something funny.

“That’s the plan.” She smiled, a real one, not her fake one for the press.

“I wanna be president when I grow up!” He bounced.

Agatha tsk’d. “You can do better, kind of a lame job.”

He giggled. “You’re nice.”

She was on her knees, eye level with him. “You might be the only one who thinks so.”

They stayed there for another hour, making sure they got the photos and videos they needed, the rest of the staff headed back to the bus and waited as Agatha said her goodbyes to the kids, giving hugs or waves.

Rio and her were walking through the corridor of the library, heading for the exit with a few secret service men trailing behind. That was one thing Rio could not get used to, the fucking shadows, they were everywhere, all the time.

“For someone who doesn’t like kids, you seemed to thrive with them.” Rio said.

“I never said I didn’t like kids, and they’re better than adults, so-” Agatha started before the two men in black suits shoved them both into a closet at a noise of what sounded like gunshots.

The door slammed shut without a word, popping noises continuing. “What the fuck?” Rio whispered, trying to catch herself so as not to body check the vice president of the United States.

“Jesus christ.” Agatha groaned, breathing in and out rapidly. “Who tries to assassinate a vice president, I’m just a warm body!”

And one thing Rio had come to learn in her time with Agatha, the woman might have a short fuse, but she didn’t shake easily. She could lash out or fly off the handle, but that was anger, this sounded like panic.

“Least they could do is wait till I’m in the oval, fucking embarrassing to get shot in the head as veep.”

“Are you scared right now?” Rio asked in an earnest tone.

Agatha whipped off her blazer, flinging it to the floor and hyperventilating. “No.”

“You sound scared.”

“I am not scared.”

“I get it, I’d freak out if someone was shooting at me too.”

“My mother rides the dick of the NRA any chance she gets, guns were a staple in my household growing up, it’s not that.” She replied through her heaving breaths, clutching her chest.

“Okay, well you’re freaking me out, so what is it?” Rio reached out without thinking, placing a hand on her arm.

“I can’t do small spaces.”

Rio raised her eyebrows. “You’re claustrophobic?”

She nodded, almost keeling over in this tiny supply closet, backing up against the shelves. “There’s no air in here.”

“Yes there is, here.” Rio placed her other hand on her chest, against her sternum. “Take a deep breath in for me.”

Agatha gasped, but didn’t really intake any air.

It was like Rio went into problem solving mode. “Give me your hand.”

“Why?” She wheezed.

“You’re having a panic attack, just trust me.”

Stupid thing to say, Agatha had been very clear she didn’t trust her.

A pair of the stormiest blue Rio had ever seen looked at her before she extended her arm, giving Rio her hand. She placed it against her own chest, placing Agatha’s fingertips where she knew her heartbeat could be felt.

Some grounding technique or something, Rio couldn’t remember. The last time she helped someone through a panic attack, it was her college roomate high on shrooms.

“Feel my breathing and mimic it, okay?”

Agatha shakily nodded her head.

Rio took a deep breath through her nose, and Agatha did the same.

She exhaled through her mouth, fanning it across her candidate's face, Agatha did the same.

Agatha’s breath was almost sweet, like coffee but not in a gross way, like in a familiar way.

Her hand was warm and soft, Rio could feel it through the tiny sliver of skin left exposed at the top of her button up.

They stayed like that for a few minutes until Agatha’s breath evened out.

“You’re okay.” Rio whispered, staring at the other woman.

Agatha just stared back, still catching her breath.

“You’re okay.” She repeated, and would until Agatha believed it.

Cerulean eyes finally came back into focus. “Sorry,” She muttered. “Childhood bullshit.”

Rio didn’t know what that meant, but context clues told her, it was nothing good.

“Don’t apologize, everyone’s fucked up in their own way, especially politicians.”

She didn’t notice how close their faces were to one another until Agatha pulled back.

“Like a snowflake.” Agatha quipped, but it was half-hearted.

“Explains why you’re liberal.” Rio joked back, not wanting to embarrass Agatha anymore than she obviously already was.

“Yeah.” She feebly smiled.

“What childhood bullshit?”

“Nothing, just…” Agatha looked like she was trying to find the politically correct thing to say. “Church camp in my teen years, lots of confessionals.”

Lie.

Well, half truth.

Rio could tell now just like she could back on Air Force Two about the gap year. Call it intuition, but she could always tell when a candidate was bullshitting. Probably why she was good at her job.

“What kind of camp?”

“At risk youth.” Agatha gave a humorless chuckle, body still leaned against the shelves, both hands on each other's sternums.

“At risk of what?”

Agatha spoke casually. “Sinning, or in my case, lesbianism.”

What the fuck? Rio must be misunderstanding because that would mean-

“You were sent to conversion therapy?”

“Wouldn’t consider it particularly therapeutic, but…” She trailed off.

“Agatha-”

The door burst open, two men in suits stood in the doorway. “False alarm, some teenagers out back playing with firecrackers. All clear, ma’am.”

Agatha pulled her hand away from Rio like she was burned, immediately standing up straight. “Thank you.”

The two men left, standing just outside.

Agatha slipped away, leaving Rio’s hand to fall back to its rightful place at her side. She watched as the veep picked up her blazer, putting it on and dramatically tossing her hair back.

Rio just stood in shock, unmoving.

Agatha looked back at her, snapping her fingers impatiently. “Well let’s go.”

Right, there was a world outside of this supply closet. She willed her body to move, walking out behind Agatha to the bus.

They didn’t talk about it, not for the rest of the day. Agatha performed as she should and avoided Rio like the plague.

And she knew, she knew she should drop it but something in her brain wouldn’t let her. It was late that night when the thought wouldn’t stop gnawing at her.

Rio hastily left her hotel room before she could talk herself out of it. Getting out of bed, still in a t-shirt and boxers, she couldn’t sleep anyways. She took a few strides down the hall until she arrived at Agatha’s room. She could see the light was on and it didn’t seem like the veep slept much to begin with, that morning they had GMA seemed to be an anomaly.

She knocked twice, waiting, hearing soft footsteps approach before the door swung open.

Agatha was in silk pajama pants, matching camisole, and her glasses. Hair wild and face bare. She looked surprisingly human, like it was just her in her natural state.

She didn’t look happy, however. “I already told William, I don’t know who Charli XCX is but I don’t think his music is really on brand for me.”

“No, it’s not that.” Rio shook her head. “Can I come in?”

Agatha considered for a moment before stepping aside, letting her through.

“What is it this time?” She huffed.

Rio stood in the middle of the room, noting that Agatha was making little notes in the margin of her next speech on her laptop.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay after…everything.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

This fucking woman-

“You have the emotional intelligence of a thumbtack, you know that?”

Agatha grinned. “Could be worse, at least that means I’m still sharp.”

“So we’re not talking about the closet?”

“The irony.” She said, “And no.”

“Agatha, you told me you were-“

“I know what I told you.” She interrupted. “Thank you for your concern but this goes far beyond what’s expected of your role, I’m fine.”

The repression ran deep apparently.

“Junes in a few days, you could always incorporate it into one of your speeches. Boston Pride is only a couple weeks away.”

“No.” Agatha crossed her arms, closing off her body language. “My mother and I have a deal. I don’t talk about her to the press, she doesn’t talk about me. If we’re at the same event, we smile for the cameras and then go back to not talking or seeing one another.”

“And that works?”

“Has for the past decade, yeah.”

“You could be a big inspiration, help people.”

Agatha crossed the room, sitting back down at the desk. “No one ever helped me.”

“Insane thing to say when you’re literally trying to lead a country.”

“It’s my stuff, I get to decide if I ever talk about it.”

“Okay but-”

“I get it.” Agatha barked. “You want to capitalize on my bullshit trauma, it’s not happening.”

“Fine.” Rio snapped. “Will you at least tell me why the library was such a thing for you?”

“It wasn’t a thing.”

“It was.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Was.”

Agatha slammed the laptop shut, standing and storming over. “Rio, drop it.”

Fine, next question. If Agatha wasn’t even going to move an inch, Rio would take a centimeter.

“What’d you really do during your gap year?” She asked and kept eye contact.

Agatha worked her jaw. “I already told you.”

“No, you lied, I’m not stupid.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“What the actual fuck have I ever done to you?!” Rio’s calm demeanor finally cracked. “You seem hellbent on not letting me help you!”

“I told you I didn’t need your help the night we met!”

“Yes, you do or you would’ve been fucking president by now!”

“Oh,” Agatha dramatically gasped. “Are you frustrated? I thought you liked a challenge!”

“You’re not a challenge, you’re clinically fucking insane!”

“You’re a self-aggrandizing child!”

“Yeah and you’re a repressed lesbian with mommy issues,” Rio spat. “And I’m here wasting my time, trying to make you into something that the average person could actually stomach!”

“Then fucking leave!” Agatha roared. “I don’t need you, how many times do I have to say that before you understand it!”

Rio could take a lot, she could, but something about Agatha just made her fucking seethe.

And yet, she couldn’t walk away.

“And who’s gonna talk you down the next time four walls are too close together for your liking?!”

Agatha recoiled as if she had taken a physical blow.

“Careful.” Her tone was venomous. “You’re useful, but not irreplaceable.”

“Then fire me.” Rio held her chin up. “If I’m so disposable, fire me.”

The rage in the veep’s eyes could probably burn down a small village at this point.

Rio didn’t get an answer so she got closer, almost crowding her. “Fire me!”

It was a test, they both knew it, and Rio was confident Agatha would fail.

“Come on, it’s an easy win, right?” She goaded. “Any hack could do the job, kinda like VP!”

Agatha’s whole body was stiff but she didn’t back down, didn’t cower. Neither did Rio, their bodies almost flesh with one another.

In some sick way, Rio found herself having fun. The challenge, the sparring, the going toe-to-toe with someone who could keep up.

Her candidate looked at her, really looked at her, and spoke so calmly it produced a chill in the fucking air.

“Guess we’re both just warm bodies then.”

Not a firing.

“Then get your shit together, fall in line, and fucking behave.” Rio lowly spoke. “Cause like it or not, you can’t win without me.”

“Fine.” Agatha hissed. “But the second, and I do mean the very second that info graphic declares my victory, this,” She motioned between them. “Is done.”

Usually campaign managers got a role in the candidates administration, a sign of a job well done. A reward, a prize.

But staff position or not, getting a president elected would keep Rio well employed for far beyond the Harkness years.

“Okay, Agatha.” She said softly, almost breathy, voice tired from the screaming.

The veep tilted her head in acknowledgement, still standing tall.

Oh, that’s right, whoever moved first was accepting defeat.

Fuck this woman, Rio was not backing down.

She could feel Agatha’s body heat radiating off of her. And now that Rio was actually looking at her candidate, she let her view drop from Agatha's face to her body.

Her shoulders were back, posture rigid, arms crossed. Her chest stuck out subtly and from where Rio was standing, she noticed the way Agatha’s breathing was almost ragged, her face was flushed, her nipples were hard-

Rio definitely shouldn’t have noticed that.

Wait, the room wasn’t cold, they were just filling the place with hot air from their screaming match.

Agatha wasn’t chilly-

She was fucking turned on.

The sick fuck.

Rio had just verbally dominated her and the woman was turned on.

Agatha cleared her throat.

Fuck, had Rio been staring at her tits this whole time? When she looked up, the veep looked-

Intrigued?

Curious?

Aroused?

Her lips parted, just enough to intake a gulp of air as Rio smirked at her.

Aroused.

Definitely aroused.

And now it didn’t matter who backed down first, because it was evident to both of them that Agatha was the clear loser in this fight.

Rio blinked a few times, smiling like she was on top of the world.

“Goodnight, madam vice president.” Rio found her voice, smooth and controlled. “A pleasure as always.”

“Wish I could say the same.” She muttered.

Rio turned and opened the door. “Don’t have to, your body did it for you.”

She let the door click behind as she stormed back down the hall, entering her room and flopping back into bed.

Fuck, she wishes she could’ve seen Agatha’s face after she said that.

Or Agatha’s face when she moans, or throws her head back, eyes screwed shut, begging and pleading.

Rio bet she’d sound so fucking pretty. Rio bet she’d look so good while being destroyed, splayed out, ready and compliant. Hair sticking to her face, gasping for air, babbling for a Rio to go easy on her.

Rio bet she tasted fucking divine. Rio bet she’d take her so well, Rio bet she’d feel like heaven gagging around her-

She rolled over in bed, smashing in the pillow trying to get comfortable. She should’ve packed a fucking vibrator, the only reason she didn’t is because she doubted she’d need it, now though? Yeah, now as she clenched her thighs together, she fucking needed it.

Agatha was less than two hundred feet away, just down the hall, she could always walk back.

No, that’d be giving in and then Agatha would have the upper hand. Plus, there was the whole being her employee aspect of it all.

Sleeping with her candidate was a bad idea, truly the Hindenburg of shitty, awful, career-ending thoughts.

Because as soon as she’d do it, her whole career would live and die by Agatha Harkness. Even though Rio got to where she was today on her own, if news got out, she’d always be uttered in the same sentence as Agatha.

So, no, she decided. No fucking the really hot, kinda fucked up politician down the hall. No matter what. She was a human after all, the only thing that separated them from animals was the control over their sexual desires.

And Rio wielded control very, very fucking well.

Chapter Text

Kentucky and Ohio were the pits of fucking hell, Agatha was sure of it. And if geographical location wasn't enough, her campaign manager was what would push her over the brink.

Ever since Tennessee, Rio had increased her grip on Agatha tenfold. Not just mentally, but professionally too. Now that she had job security, she seemed to stop pulling her punches. Agatha made an edit to a speech? Rio changed it back less than a minute later. Agatha wanted to wear a navy suit? Rio made her swap it out for one of the increasingly lighter toned suits that kept magically appearing in her wardrobe. Agatha didn’t want to mingle with truckers and their chicken-frying wives? Rio bribed the bus driver to only go where she approved.

Everything was handled, checked off, or rejected by Rio motherfucking Vidal. And the worst part? Agatha couldn’t do anything about it because all of it was working. Her public support had never been so positive, and yes part of that was the American population just trying to pick the lesser of two evils, but there were others who genuinely thought Agatha was the best fit for the job.

They’d already been through Wisconsin, five towns and Agatha could not name off even one of them. She was tired of the public with their below average intelligence, sweaty fucking hands, and crying infants that they’d just shove into Agatha’s arms. The last time she ran, she didn’t have this much social capital, she didn’t have to worry about interacting with kids as much and it cut like a hot blade every single time a toddler tugged on her suit jacket. The Harkness-Calderu onesies were absolutely fucking adorable though.

“I just think it’s interesting that someone who’s never given birth wants to make decisions for the women in this country, let alone the innocent life she supports slaughtering.” Rio said in a gruff voice, trying to imitate Stark.

They were prepping for the debate next month, trying to rehearse the perfect retort to whatever mud he would sling. They were on the bus, making their way to the upper peninsula of Michigan where most rural ghost towns were located.

“Madam vice president, what do you have to say to that?” Wanda asked as the fake moderator.

“I’d say that Tony Stark hasn’t pushed a child out of his gaping vagina either, yet we all know he has one.” Agatha deadpanned.

“Agatha.” Rio scolded. “We’ve been over this, you say as a woman-”

“I told you, as a woman, I’m not fucking saying ‘as a woman’.”

“Did you know that a lot of married straight women will just vote the same way their husbands do?” Rio leaned over the table separating them. “You need to remind them that their vote is their own, that you’re an ally to them.”

“Do I really want the vote of a woman who’d listen to a man?”

“Too bad, as a woman, you need them.” She fake pouted. “Wanda, next question.”

They never spoke about that night in Tennessee, thank god Rio wasn’t as much of a sadist as Agatha had thought. She spent most of that night freaking the fuck out and trying not to punch a hole in the hotel room wall. Rio had stared at her tits for at least a full thirty seconds after they were done screaming at one another, and Agatha had let her. She spent the first ten seconds trying to calm down, the following ten seconds gaining some warped satisfaction that she had momentarily distracted the woman, and the last ten seconds with a sick feeling in her gut.

Because even though it seemed like Rio was as affected by Agatha as she was by Rio, it came at the cost of Agatha’s fucking pride. From that day on she vowed to always wear a bra or a sweater around Rio, now both her brain and her nipples were in a timeout.

Additionally, she had resorted to sleeping less than she already did, if her mind wasn’t idle, it could produce anymore dreams-

Nightmares, damnit, fucking nightmares about Rio.

William had caught on, greeting Agatha every morning with a gigantic coffee and some eye cream to help dark circles. At first she was offended, but at this point, the subtle comment that she looked tired was better than imagining what Rio’s fingers would feel like inside of her.

Agatha was on a mission, she would not sleep with Rio, especially not in the way her mind was imagining. Rio made her feel out of control, like she was expected to take orders from someone sixteen years her junior.

Yeah, it wouldn’t happen.

Wasn’t happening in hotel rooms, or on the bus, or backstage before a rally, or maybe in a bathroom at a donor luncheon. Definitely wouldn’t happen in her office in DC or in the oval when she got elected. Definitely wouldn’t let Rio bend her over in the sacred place where forty-six presidents had led the country. Definitely wouldn't want Rio’s hand in her hair using it for leverage as she drove into her from behind. Definitely wouldn’t listen to all the delicious things Rio would whisper in her ear as she got close. Definitely-

“Agatha?” Wanda said, waiting expectantly.

She blinked a few times, realizing she had zoned out. “Hmm?”

Rio smirked. “She asked you a question.”

How the fuck was she looking at Agatha like she knew what she had just been thinking? Worse than that, brown eyes trailed down to the opening of Agatha’s shirt. Nothing inappropriate, just the first few top buttons undone, only showing her the hollow of her throat and her collarbones.

Rio needed to stop looking there, needed to stop smirking like that. Needed to stop with the smug fucking face.

“We need to tax billionaires and big corporations.” Agatha said, not having a damn clue what Wanda had just asked or if it at all pertained to the economy.

“Nope.” Rio spoke, eyes finally meeting her own again. “Try again.”

“Really, you’re saying no to taxing the rich? I thought your generation got off on that.”

“There’s a lot of things to get off to,” Rio breathed out. “But that’s not what Wanda asked. The question was about immigration.”

There’s a lot of things to get off to.

The sentence echoed in Agatha’s thick fucking skull as Rio and Wanda stared at her.

What kinds of things did Rio get off to?

No, she had to answer Wanda.

“Right.” Agatha nodded.

Several tortuous hours later, they finally arrived in Iron Mountain, Michigan. Yes, that is a real place that Agatha was unfortunately in right now. Rio made her change into boots, jeans, and a flannel to meet with some lumberjack union in the middle of the fucking woods. Agatha didn’t particularly care for nature, it was usually dirty and uncomfortable.

When she emerged, changed into the ridiculous get-up Rio had picked out, her staff audibly cackled.

“Look at you,” Rio lightly smacked her shoulder. “You big butch.”

“You’d look so rugged if it weren't for the false lashes.” Jen chuckled.

Wanda laughed along, but was by far the least cruel. “Mmh, if I were ten years older, madam vice president...”

Agatha looked at the boy who was a little ways down the aisle. “William, do you have a gun in that bag?”

He looked panicked. “No, why- why would I have that?”

She bore holes into her staffers with her eyes. “To commit heinous acts of violence.”

“We’re pro-gun control, Harkness.” Lilia said, “No matter how much the person deserves it.”

Alice stood. “We should tie her hair back, a ponytail will look more casual, more of the people.”

“I got it.” Rio said, stepping behind Agatha and running her fingers from the crown of her head, down to the base of her skull.

Her nails lightly scraped along Agatha’s scalp and it took everything she had not to moan at the feeling and throw her head back, chasing the contact. She felt Rio gather her hair, fist closed around the length.

She snapped with her free hand. “William, hair tie.”

He ran over, handing her what she needed. Rio leaned over to reach his outstretched hand, tugging some of Agatha’s hair along with her in the movement. Fuck, if it was hard not to make a sound before, the tension on her locks was fucking killing her. Imagining what Rio could do if she was actually trying to pull her hair.

Her campaign manager tied off the ponytail, fluffing it a little before being satisfied enough to stop touching her.

“Okay, you’ve got a union to impress.” Rio spoke, unaware that Agatha was fucking vibrating after something incredibly innocent.

Maybe Rio was right, maybe Agatha needed to get her shit together. Because, good god, her knees felt a little weak after that.

“Bunch of alpha male pricks, can’t wait.”

“You need the blue collar vote.” Rio chided.

“I need the Latino vote, I need the female vote, I need the blue collar vote, I need the fucking gen z vote. Is there a vote I actually have yet?” Agatha whined.

“Gay vote.” Wanda smiled.

“And that one's covered in glitter.” Jen theatrically declared, flourishing her hands.

“Do I have anything else after this?” She looked at Rio.

“No, why?”

Agatha adjusted the blue flannel currently swallowing her. “I’m getting drunk tonight.”

Jen cheered. “Drinks? Hotel bar?”

“I doubt there’s going to be anywhere else nearby with an acceptable single malt scotch in buttfuck Michigan.”

“Iron Wood.” Wanda corrected.

“Iron Mountain!” Rio corrected Wanda’s correction. “My god, you people…”

“Same thing.” She shrugged.

Rio pointed a finger in her face. “No, no it's not.”

Agatha smacked her hand away. “We went over this in dickcheese Wisconsin too!”

“It was Steven’s Point!” Rio shouted.

“It was hell!”

“No, this, right now, is hell!”

“Makes you Satan!”

“Says motherfucking Lucifer incarnate!”

“For fucks sake!” Jen clapped her hands together. “We need to get off this bus, meet with the lumberjacks, then you two can kill each other afterwards, deal?”

Rio huffed. “Deal.”

Agatha scoffed. “I’m buying a gun.” And strutted down the aisle of the bus, motioning for the driver to open the doors.

She smiled and waved as she jaunted down the steps, giving the façade that there was nowhere else she’d rather be. Which not true, she’d very much like to be in that bus with her hands wrapped around her campaign managers throat.

In a violent way or horny way, she couldn’t be sure.

“Madam vice president.” A six-foot tall, bulky man in a flannel and trucker hat walked up to her, shaking her hand. “We’re so excited to have you here.”

“Believe me, nothing I love more than talking wood.” She laughed in a throaty way, winking at the double entendre.

Her public persona was a carefully curated one, her smile was different, her laugh, her sense of humor, perfectly manicured to appease any person she was interacting with at any time.

Except when it came to that library visit, she had forgotten to put on a character with those kids talking to her. It was just easy with kids, being a politician that is, interacting with kids in general still hurt like a bitch, it probably always would.

“We have plenty in common then!” The guy laughed, finally releasing her hand.

His palm was sweaty, of course, she needed William and his Purell.

“Well that’s easy with so many big, strong men driving Michigan’s economy.” She chuckled.

All the surrounding men looked the same, like rats in her mind.

She had to be just shy of actual flirting, enough for plausible deniability. But complimentary enough that this man would like her. Lumber was one of Michigan’s main economic drivers, getting union support would mean the swing state could be hers.

“26.5 billion in revenue this year, ma’am.” He proudly stated.

Yeah she already fucking knew that.

She dropped her jaw in shock. “Well, I’ll be! That is astonishing!”

No, it wasn’t, but she could bullshit with the best of them.

“I’d love to see you fellas in action.” She tried to convey enthusiasm.

No, she wouldn’t, she’d rather watch paint dry, but such is life.

After she and her entire staff had walked through the woods of Michigan for several hours, they finally headed back to the hotel. The moment those bus doors closed, Agatha undid the buttons of the flannel and flung it off, she had a tank top on underneath and she was boiling.

“Why the fuck did you put me in a flannel in the middle of summer? I can feel my sweat everywhere.” Agatha whipped the flannel at William, something for him to deal with.

“To make you look woodsy, but of course.” Rio grinned. “And you’re glistening.”

She’d let it go this time, she was tired, she hadn’t eaten in god knows how long, and she would be drunk in a matter of a few hours.

“Can we leave you here?” Agatha muttered.

Rio chuckled. “You’d miss me too much, sweetheart.”

Agatha opened her mouth to respond, but the bus hissed and they were already moving. Her body swayed as she made her way to her seat, opting to sit next to Wanda.

Nice, agreeable Wanda, who didn’t torment her every chance she got. Wanda who she'd known for years and never once found unpleasant, which was a glowing review in Agatha’s book.

“Are you coming to drinks?” Agatha asked.

Wanda was tapping away on her phone, hair in a braid. Everyone was in jeans and some form of outdoor gear after walking around in the woods the whole afternoon.

Green eyes peered up. “I figured that was just you and Jen.”

“I’m a democrat, Wanda. There’s always enough alcohol to distribute amongst the masses.”

“The masses being your staff?”

“Yup.”

“As long as you’re buying.”

Now this, this could be something.

Wanda.

Something to distract her from succubus only a few feet away.

They always had a good relationship, Wanda was good at her job, as far as Agatha knew she wasn’t straight. A couple years back, Wanda had come into the Eisenhower building all mopey over breaking up with her girlfriend, if Agatha remembers correctly. She didn’t comfort her though, just told her to tell HuffPo no comment about something.

And her FLOTUS joke last month wasn’t rejected based on Agatha’s looks or personality, just status.

She would just test the waters, see if Wanda would even respond to something like that.

“You’re too pretty to pay for your own drinks anyway.” Agatha told her, keeping eye contact.

Wanda smiled, and Agatha could see a faint appearance of a blush on her cheeks. “We’re done with the appearance now, you can turn off the politician charm.”

Her next response was calculated. “I can’t help it if you find me charming.”

Wanda blushed a little more and shook her head. “You’re dangerous.”

“Honey,” Agatha almost whispered. “You have no idea.”

A distraction indeed.

If she was chasing Wanda, she couldn’t be caught by Rio, right?

Airtight logic on her part, probably why she’d make a brilliant president.

When they got to the hotel, everyone separated, showering and changing before heading to the hotel bar. The only person there when Agatha arrived was Jen, sidling up next to her at the bar, trying to make herself comfortable on the stool.

“I think that union is gonna endorse me.” Agatha greeted her chief of staff.

Jen already had a drink. “Well, you sucked up to them enough, so I’d say so.”

“Why are you in a mood?” Agatha cocked her head, waving over the bartender.

Jen waited until the guy behind the bar was making Agatha’s drink before she spoke. “What’s going on with you and Rio?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Agatha said immediately, because technically there was nothing going on.

“I know you don’t like her, but you guys have to be more civilized.”

Oh, Jen thought Agatha hated Rio.

Which she did.

But at least she was hiding the inconvenient attraction well enough for Jen not to catch on.

“I am civilized, she’s the problem.”

“No, she’s your saving grace and you’re being a cunt every chance you get.”

Agatha finally got her scotch and greedily took a swig. “William told me that was a good thing.”

Jen scrunched her face in confusion.

“You know, with the kids on tiktok.”

Jen’s face dropped as she understood. “That’s cunty.”

“I’m not hearing a difference.”

“You’re being a cunt.”

“No, I’m being cunty.”

“Jesus Christ, what is wrong with you?”

“You of all people should know, Jen.” Agatha looked down at her half drank scotch.

“Is this about the library?”

All roads led back to that fucking visit.

“No, no I told you I was fine.”

“Yeah and I’ve known you long enough to know when you’re not.”

“It just…threw me off, I guess.”

That was putting it lightly, it swam around in her brain all the time. All those kids, happy, living life, going home at the end of the day with their parents. She never got that as a kid or otherwise.

“You could just tell Rio, she’d make changes to the schedule if she knew.”

Yeah, she probably would, but then Agatha would have to say everything out loud and she had never done that.

“No. It’s good for the campaign to interact with children. Like Rio said, it’ll make me look like I have a heart.” She laughed, but it held no humor.

“You can’t hate her for something she knows nothing about.” Jen said, finishing her drink.

“I will try to play nice, does that appease you?”

Jen grinned. “It’s a start.”

“What else do you want, a kidney?”

“Listen, just do whatever it is you need to do in order to get your shit together.” Jen used that tone, the one she had used for years to let Agatha know she wasn’t fucking around. “You’re tired all the time, you object to every campaign stop, you’re on edge more than you already were. This isn’t sustainable.”

Her chief of staff let out a long breath.

“Get drunk, get laid, kill a man, just- I can’t watch you lose again.”

Jen had been there when Agatha lost the primaries, been at her side when the funding dried up, when she got the call from Rogers offering her the VP slot. Jen was there through it all and Agatha may be many things, but most of all she was loyal to those who were loyal to her.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Jen raised her eyebrows.

“Okay! I got it, damn.” Agatha huffed, downing her glass.

They ordered another round when Alice and Wanda showed up, everyone was out of their outdoor ensembles or normal office clothes. Wanda had on a dress far too short to be an accident, and Agatha made sure to linger on her frame longer than what was considered appropriate.

Flirting with Wanda was easy because there was no challenge.

Agatha had all the power in the dynamic.

All the control.

It was familiar.

It was safe.

Three drinks later and Alice and Jen retired, saying their goodnights. They had another full day in Michigan tomorrow and then they had to fly to Massachusetts for Boston Pride.

“Do you want another drink?” Wanda asked, leaning in from her barstool next to her.

Agatha bit her lip, trying to decide just exactly how to play this.

She could send Wanda back to her room, leave the bar alone, and stay up for another three hours reading the foreign aid proposal that had been collecting dust in her bag upstairs.

Or-

She could spend the night with this beautiful woman and not think about her campaign manager.

Jen said she needed to get laid.

And Wanda may be her employee, but she wasn’t Rio, so definitely an upgrade.

“What I really want,” Agatha rasped, placing her hand on Wanda’s knee. “Is to take you upstairs with me.”

Wanda’s breath hitched, her pupils dilated, and the grip she had on her glass tightened.

Agatha slid her hand up Wanda’s thigh, just short of her skirt. “Do you want that?”

She couldn’t remember how many times she had pulled this move with women. It was practiced, it was rehearsed, it was something she knew, something she was confident in.

And right on cue-

“Yes.” Wanda spoke, it was soft and breathy and everything Agatha needed to hear.

She grabbed Wanda’s hand after paying the tab, leading her back through the lobby.

And for the first time since meeting Rio, Agatha felt like she could breathe.

Chapter Text

Pushing Wanda against the door and pinning her there was...good.

Leaning in and kissing her was…nice.

Gripping her waist and pulling her closer as Agatha slipped her tongue against hers was…fine.

None of it was bad, and the woman beneath her hands right now was seeming to enjoy herself. She was letting out these little noises at every single thing Agatha did, she was responsive, she was eager.

She wasn’t Rio and that should be good enough.

‘Should’ being the operative word.

Agatha could still taste the cherry flavor on Wanda’s tongue from her Manhattan she had downstairs at the bar. It was sweet and non-offensive.

There was nothing wrong but it felt…empty.

Agatha felt Wanda’s hands fly to her hair as she dropped a hand underneath Wanda’s skirt.

Her fingers didn’t feel the same as Rio’s had earlier that day. Wanda didn’t smell like Rio, didn’t dress like her, because she wasn’t her.

Wanda always wore heels and pastels, soft and feminine. The campaign manager dressed in sharper lines, darker colors, and usually opted for loafers or for some fucking reason, sneakers.

Rio smelt earthy, like iris and sandalwood.

But all Agatha could inhale right now was the scent of vanilla, or toasted almonds, or something else atrociously sweet.

“Agatha.” Wanda moaned, canting her hips as Agatha toyed with the lace of her underwear.

Rio probably didn’t wear lace, what would she wear?

Boyshorts, probably cotton, and they’d cling to her just right.

This was something Agatha knew how to do, fuck a woman, make her come, make her feel good. It was like she was on autopilot, pure muscle memory. She knew when to tease, when to give in, when to pull back.

But her fucking brain-

It wouldn’t just let her enjoy it.

Agatha kissed down Wanda’s neck, slowly, messily, nipping but not biting. She didn’t need to leave a mark and have the rest of the staff, namely Rio, asking questions.

“Please.” Wanda whimpered, digging her nails into Agatha’s scalp.

See? That’s how things were supposed to be, with Agatha being the cause of the whimpering, not the source.

“I know, hon.” Agatha whispered, clawing at the front of the dress, trying to get to her chest. “I got you.”

Wanda’s head lolled back, resting with a light thud against the door. She debated moving things to the bed, but she needed this now, needed to feel in control of herself again.

She slid her hand to the apex of Wanda’s thighs, cupping the soaked fabric. Fuck, could she have that effect on Rio?

Did Rio know that she had that effect on her?

Wanda’s breathing became uneven, anticipatory.

Agatha let her eyes flutter shut as she moved the lace aside.

Flashes of Rio flooded the backs of her eyelids.

Her stupid fucking smirk and the way she tucked her tongue against her cheek. Her massive eyes that got a certain look in them whenever Agatha fought with her. The tiny gap in her front teeth, the column of her neck, the-

“Oh, fuck, Rio.”

Wanda’s body tensed, no longer slack and pliant against the door.

She harshly grabbed Agatha’s wrist out from underneath her dress. “Wanda!”

Agatha opened her eyes, blinking a few times in confusion. “No, I’m Agatha.”

She hadn’t even fucked her yet and the poor woman was already gone, wow, new record.

Wanda dropped her wrist. “No, I’m Wanda. You fucking said Rio!”

“No I didn’t.” Agatha dismissed, stepping away.

“Yes you fucking did!” Wanda shouted, fixing her clothing. “You said ‘oh, fuck, Rio’ while trying to fuck me!”

Shit, had she?

No, she’d be aware of something like that.

“Wanda, honey-”

“Do not.” Wanda hissed. “You called me Rio!”

Well, considering only she knew how she felt about Rio, Wanda clearly wasn’t making shit up.

Holy fucking hell, she said Rio’s name, right as she as about to fuck Wanda.

Poor Wanda.

Poor Agatha!

Now she couldn’t even fuck someone else without this woman bothering her? Wanda was gorgeous and single and mentally stable. Rio was hot in a scary way and competitive and not fucking normal.

What does that say about her? That she can’t escape her thirty-five year old campaign manager?

She didn’t want to analyze that right now.

“My bad.” Agatha said, refusing eye contact.

Wanda’s eyes squinted, kind of like a predator who’s about to rip off its prey's head. “Your bad?!”

“Yeah.” She waved a dismissive hand. “My mistake.”

“YOUR BAD?!”

“Wanda, please, the walls are only so thick-“ Agatha placed a finger against her ear to stop the ringing.

“You said another woman’s name, your campaign manager’s name, while your hand was under my skirt, Agatha!”

“Yes, and it was regrettable to say the least.”

“You fucking sociopath, are you even going to fucking apologize?!”

“For what?”

“For-” Wanda stopped for a moment, gathering her rage. “FOR PRETENDING I WAS HER!”

“I wasn’t pretending, I was just thinking about her while we were…”

Okay, now that she said it aloud, it didn’t make her sound great.

“Oh! So I was a placeholder?!”

Yes, precisely, thank god she understood.

“Listen, Wanda-”

She held up her hand. “No. You don’t get to talk, maybe ever again. I’m talking.”

Fine, if it got this interaction over with quicker.

Agatha tilted her head, ushering her on.

“In case it was not already abundantly clear, we're not having sex.”

Obviously, Wanda had kind of ruined the mood anyway.

“And when you’re elected, you’re making me White House press secretary.”

Okay, that was a senior position, and she hadn’t even decided on who she’d offer the job to-

Eh, Wanda was smart and pretty, fuck it.

“And I’m telling Rio.”

No, no, no.

“Wanda, you cannot tell Rio.”

“I think she deserves to know that you’ve been jacking off to her!”

“I have not been jacking off to her.” Agatha immediately replied. “There was a dream- god damnit, nightmare!"

Wanda looked at Agatha like a nurse looks at an unstable mental patient. “Yeah, I’m telling her.”

As Wanda turned to leave, Agatha made her Hail-Mary pass. “If you tell her, my run is over before it even starts.”

Wanda looked back at her, hand on the doorknob.

Agatha continued. “You tell her, she quits, I’m fucked, no presidency, no press secretary position.”

“You don’t know she’d quit, she’d actually probably-”

“She loathes me.”

Staring at ones tits, did not mean you liked the person, it just meant tits were in your field of vision.

Thinking a person was hot, did not mean you wanted to fuck them.

Rio was like the twitter lesbians-

Both thought Agatha was attractive, but couldn’t stand her as a person.

Story of her life.

Wanda bitterly chuckled. “Oh, you’re so fucking stupid.”

“Okay, one, rude. Two, not true.”

“You’ll figure it out one day, maybe by your second term.” She rolled her eyes.

“You really think I could be a two-term president?” Agatha blushed a little at the insinuation.

“Fucking egomaniac-” Wanda opened the door.

“Wait!” Agatha rushed out. “You’re not going to tell her, right?”

Wanda grinned, “I don’t know yet.” And slipped out into the hall, walking away.

Well what the fuck did that mean?

The door fell shut with her exit, leaving Agatha standing in the middle of a hotel room, alone, in god-only-knows-where, Michigan.

Her feet didn’t move, didn’t carry her anywhere else, she just stood frozen. The aftermath of not getting laid had never felt so soul-crushing. Not because she didn’t have sex, but because in addition to not having sex, she was worse off than before.

The power she held two minutes ago had dissipated faster than it took to accumulate. And now Wanda despised her, rightfully so. Rio was probably about to despise her too, more so now, if that was even possible.

God, she always fucking did this, even when she was young she was a fuck up. She was always too greedy and ambitious for her own good. Like Rogers said only a mere month ago-

A power hungry leech.

That would be her legacy in the world.

Not being the first female president ever elected into office.

Just a repressed, attention-seeking lesbian with mommy issues.

Fuck, was it too pathetic to go down to the bar again?

Who cares if she’d look puffy and tired tomorrow, that’s what William is for.

She stormed down the hallway on a mission, passing the block of rooms assigned to her staff. She slowed down in front of Rio’s room and there was no light on underneath the door. Rio was probably asleep like the professional she was, the bright side being, no narc to tell her not to drink.

As she passed by Jen’s room, she heard the unmistakable sounds of moans and a bed frame hitting the wall repeatedly.

At least someone got laid tonight.

She did feel an ounce of sympathy for William, his room shared a wall with Jen’s and Agatha had been right-

The walls were indeed not that thick.

No, no sympathy.

Alcohol, she needed alcohol.

Everything that had gone down with Wanda had deflated her metaphorical hard-on and since she couldn’t take back control, she’d get drunk.

Healthy? No.

Effective? Yes.

She made her way back to the bar, sitting again with her arms resting on the polished wood. The crowd was thinner than it had been before she left with Wanda, just the sad, lonely alcoholics left scattered around.

She could be in worse company.

“You look like hell.” Rio’s voice infiltrated her ears.

And there was worse company right now.

Agatha whipped her head, a few seats down sat Rio, drink in hand.

“Feel like it too.” She muttered.

Her campaign manager huffed. “Any particular reason?”

Yeah, I moaned your name all but fifteen minutes ago while my hand was in my communication director's underwear.

Agatha didn’t say out loud.

“Long day, even longer night.” She settled on instead.

Rio got up and moved down the few seats between them, sitting right next to her. “Getting drunk with your staff hard work?”

“Why the hell are you even here? You weren’t all night.”

“I prefer to lurk in the shadows, watching.”

Please don’t let that mean she had seen Agatha dragging Wanda upstairs with her.

“A voyeur? Why doesn’t that surprise me…” She waved over the bartender, different guy this time, meaning no one to recognize her and rat her out. “Scotch, neat.”

“Brand?”

Agatha was about to answer when Rio cut her off. “No booze, just water for her.”

He nodded and walked off.

She glared at the woman. “What the fuck?”

“William is good at his job, but he’s not a miracle worker. You have to be in front of cameras tomorrow and I don’t want my candidate looking like a co-ed the morning after a frat party.” Rio grinned, sipping her beer.

And suddenly, Agatha had never wanted to be the rim of a beer bottle so badly in her life. Hell, she’d even settle for being the neck of the bottle just to have Rio’s fingers wrapped around her.

“You’re drinking.” Agatha accused.

“I’m not running for president.”

She thought about fighting back, but she was too tired, too drained. She’d also promised her chief of staff to play nice, and if Agatha wasn’t going to be a big girl on her own, she’d do it for Jen.

“So what have you been doing all night?”

Rio smirked. “My job.”

“Which is?”

“Booking press appearances, scheduling visits, coordinating with your offices across the country, reporting back to HQ, checking polls, checking socials, checking-”

“I get it.” Agatha grumbled. “You check a lot of shit.”

“No.” She tucked her tongue against her cheek. “I’m just a warm body.”

And what Agatha wouldn’t give to feel that body.

“So, why the bar?”

“My room is across from Jen’s and her and Alice are having obnoxiously loud rabbit sex.” Rio explained. “Decided I deserved a drink.”

Agatha chuckled. “Jen’s always been loud as shit, even in college.”

Rio’s eyebrows shot up. “You and Jen…?”

She stared for a second before understanding what Rio was asking. “God, no, no! We were roommates, we never fucked!”

Agatha watched as the deathgrip Rio had on her beer bottle relaxed. “I was gonna say-”

“Why do you care?” Agatha turned her body on the stool, facing Rio.

“Just, would probably look bad for you to have slept with the people who work for you.”

Oh, that hit too close to home after tonight.

Agatha watched her face, studied it. The way her muscles didn’t move the same way when she said that, the way it didn’t seem genuine.

She was lying.

“Why’d you come back?” Rio turned her body too.

“Back where?”

“The bar.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Agatha lied right back. Technically more of an omission, but she also knew sleep was a fool's errand at this point.

“You never do.” Rio threw back the rest of her beer and placed the bottle on the bar. “C’mon, let’s go.”

She got up and started walking.

“The water?” Agatha called after her.

“It’s gonna be tap, we both know you’d never drink it!” Rio shouted back, already on the move.

And if Rio was telling her to follow, by god in heaven, she’d follow.

She did a half-walk, half-jog to catch up to her. “I’m not a dog, you can’t just whistle and expect me to come running.”

Rio looked at her, self-satisfied smile spread across her face. “Worked though, didn’t it?”

Fuck this fucking motherfucking woman-

But to Rio’s point, Agatha didn’t ask where they were going, just kept in step beside her. They made their way back to their block of rooms, stopping at Agatha’s door.

“Goodnight, madam vice president.” She spoke, getting ready to continue down the hall.

That’s it? She just walked Agatha to her room and that was the end?

Agatha grabbed her arm to stop her from leaving, realizing it was probably the first time she had ever initiated physical touch with Rio and not the other way around.

“Wait.” She tilted her head. “Did you actually care?”

Rio’s eyes flickered to Agatha’s hand cradling her elbow before looking up. “Care about what?”

“Me hypothetically sleeping with Jen?”

Sleeping with anyone who wasn’t her.

Rio’s eyes softened but her jaw tensed ever so slightly. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know, why would you?” Agatha parroted.

“I don’t.”

“Seems like you do.”

“No it doesn’t.” She brushed off.

“Does.”

“Does not!” Rio’s voice strained.

Agatha matched her. “Does!”

She took a step forward, making it so Agatha’s back was almost pressed against the door.

“Agatha.” It came out low and quiet.

“Yes?” Agatha smirked, leaning in.

“Try to get some sleep for me.” Rio took her arm back, freeing it from Agatha’s grasp. “Big day tomorrow.”

“They’re all big days.” She let her head rest against the door.

“Only get bigger when you’re president.”

“I’m not gonna sleep just because you told me to.” Agatha shrugged. “The human body doesn’t work that way.”

She chuckled. “I don’t know, yours seems to.”

Her breath caught at the reference to Tennessee, at the insinuation to Agatha’s body responding to Rio against her own will.

“I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.”

“Another thing to add to the list.” Rio cocked her head. “So, the closet, your gap year, the library, and now Tennessee. Anything else?”

Wanda.

“I think that covers it.”

“Then goodnight, Agatha.” She hummed, turning on her heel. “And chug, like, six tiny bottles of water from the mini bar before you go to bed.”

Rio turned a corner and vanished, leaving Agatha to slump against the door of her hotel room.

Second woman in one night to leave Agatha, wow, new record.

She wasn’t going to go to bed, not really, she knew she’d just lay there replaying every interaction she’d ever had with Rio on a loop. Trying to decipher if she was just so horny that she made herself believe Rio could feel the same, or if it were actually true.

When she got in her room, she changed into a variation of the same thing she wore to sleep every night. She did not chug six bottles of water, though. Just one, and seethed the entire time as she drank it.

Agatha laid in the dark quiet of her room, looking at the ceiling and wondering if Rio had easily fallen asleep that night. If she turned out the light in her room without a second thought. If she dreamed of her life after this, a life beyond Agatha.

She hadn’t even been aware of her slip into unconsciousness until there was a banging on her door. Agatha grumbled, rubbing her eyes to check the time-

Who the fuck was pounding on her door at two in the morning?

She climbed out of bed, still disoriented, and lazily opened the door.

There stood Rio in a baggy t-shirt and boxers, one hand clutching each side of the door frame.

“Rio, what the fuck?”

She looked hungry, she looked starving, she looked physically pained. “I care.”

“What?” Her sleep-addled mind was struggling to catch up.

Rio crossed the threshold, grabbing Agatha’s waist. “I care.”

The touch, even through her camisole, fucking burned. “About Jen?”

“About anyone.” Rio rasped, tugging Agatha flesh with her. “I fucking care.”

Agatha didn’t get to respond before Rio’s lips crashed into hers, hands biting into her sides. She didn’t protest, her body ached for more, meeting Rio’s force and applying her own.

Rio kissed her like it was a competition, and Agatha-

Agatha didn’t want to win.

She let Rio back her further into the room and onto the bed, she let Rio climb on top of her and slide her tongue into her mouth.

She wanted it.

All of it.

No matter how stupid it was.

No matter the price.

She wanted to give herself to Rio.

She wanted Rio to take.

“I care.” She murmured against Agatha’s lips. “I-”

The knocking sound on the door didn’t go away, though. If anything it amplified, drowning out whatever Rio was trying to say. It got louder and louder, heavier and heavier. The repetition of the noise was was echoing through her fucking skull, snapping the tether Agatha had to this fantasy.

Her eyes shot open, revealing the same view she had seen before falling asleep.

The fucking ceiling.

The knocking was real, that much she knew.

The room was bathed in sunlight, maybe too much for her liking.

Another nightmare.

Who the fuck was she kidding at this point?

Another dream.

She took a deep breath before pushing the covers off her body, getting up and opening the door.

“Morning, ma’am.” William said, exhaustion lacing his tone. His face looked heavier, little dark circles under his eyes.

He held two coffees and extended one to Agatha. “Rio wants us back on the bus in an hour.”

“Tell her to blow me.” Agatha deadpanned, taking the coffee and slamming the door in his face.

“Will do, madam vice president.” William’s muffled voice carried from the hall.

Agatha set her coffee down, flinging herself back onto the mattress, staring at that same fucking ceiling.

She could dissect it.

She could try to figure out why it wouldn’t leave her alone.

Why Rio wouldn’t leave her alone.

Actually do something about it.

Or-

She could throw it into the vault along with everything else she’d rather not think about.

As her campaign manager would say-

Add it it to the fucking list.

Chapter Text

“The ending is still missing something.” Agatha spoke in her seat next to Rio on Air Force Two.

They were trying to finish the speech for Boston Pride that Agatha would deliver in twelve hours. It was one in the morning, they had left Michigan late and everyone else had crashed as soon as they were up in the air.

Rio stopped typing on her laptop. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Shouldn’t you?”

Their last day in Michigan was a slog, but they got through it. Well, at least she thinks they got through it. Agatha was acting weirder than usual, so was Wanda, and William could barely get through the day because of Jen and Alice’s sex marathon the night prior.

“We’re not doing this again.” Rio chided.

“I can’t sleep when I don’t know what I’m going to say tomorrow.” She leaned over to look at the screen. “What is this rainbow shit?”

Why was she always leaning around Rio? It was driving her nuts, the proximity.

“America is a rainbow, gay people are rainbows, blah, blah, blah.” Rio summarized.

“I could go on stage and eat pussy, and it would be less fake and gay than that last paragraph.” Agatha grumbled.

As long as it was Rio’s.

As long as Agatha was kneeling for her.

Yeah, she could spin that to the press.

“I’m sure the Stark camp would love that.” She settled for.

“Please, both those incels watch enough lesbian porn as it is.”

“What if we add in your experience?”

“What experience?”

“The camp.” Rio quietly said, purposely leaving it vague.

Agatha didn’t back away, didn’t stiffen, just kept looking at the screen. “I thought we put that on the list.”

Rio was going to get the context behind every single thing on that list if it fucking killed her. She wanted to know her, understand her, crack her open and find what made her tick.

Why Rio wanted that, she chose not to question further. She’d never cared about a politician beyond their platform and their scandals, but Agatha was different to Rio for some unnerving reason.

The vice president was loud and arrogant, but if you actually listened, she didn’t really say all that much. Agatha Harkness was all smoke and mirrors, a front so that nobody would see the real her.

But Rio would.

She turned her head. “List is getting kinda long.”

Now Agatha would make some snarky comment and wiggle her way out of talking about anything real-

“On second thought,” Agatha shifted in her seat. “You’re pissing me off. I think sleep is a better alternative to throwing your laptop out the airlock.”

But she couldn’t just badger Agatha, she had to be smart about this, methodical. She had to push her slowly but surely.

“Night.” Rio said, turning back to her laptop and clicking away on the keyboard.

She’d fucked around with the speech for at least twenty minutes before she felt something weighted hit her shoulder. When she peered over, she found Agatha’s head resting on the juncture between her neck and her shoulder, sound asleep.

Rio should probably wake her up or gently move her, but Agatha never slept, she was always exhausted, and what was the harm? Rio got to keep working and Agatha got some much needed shuteye. It just made practical sense, there was nothing unprofessional happening.

She continued making her edits, only pausing when Agatha lightly roused or twitched. Rio knew when she had hit REM because she started making little sounds, tiny noises that should be impossible to hear, soft breaths.

But that last fucking paragraph still fucking sucked. Agatha was right, it was missing something. It made the rest of the speech fall flat, they needed something bigger, something inspiring, something-

“...Rio.” Agatha grumbled.

Her body went rigid at the prospect of Agatha waking up like this, slumped against her.

“Yeah?” She whispered, trying her best to turn her head and see the veep.

Agatha’s eyes were shut, breathing even, face completely slack.

She was still asleep.

“Rio.” She mumbled again and burrowed in closer.

Her hands dropped from the computer, suddenly no longer focusing on her job. Which is what she’s here to fucking do. No, instead she sat there in the half-lit cabin of Air Force Two, trying to not move a single muscle and disrupt her candidate.

Her fucking boss.

Who was currently dreaming about…her?

Because there’d be no other reason why Agatha would be saying her name right now.

She relaxed further into her seat, raising her hand to tuck some of Agatha’s hair behind her ear. The veep moved, rolling her head and turning her body inwards, almost nuzzling into Rio’s neck.

How the fuck was she supposed to be relaxed right now? With Agatha’s nose gently pressed against her throat, her breath hitting Rio’s skin, her lips hovering close to Rio’s pulse but not touching.

She looked-

Content.

Agatha never looked content.

She could fake contentment for the cameras, but underneath it all, Rio always saw whatever tortured her. The secrets she kept close to her chest that she carried like a boulder on her back, a noose around her throat.

So Rio let her have this, whatever this was, and let her head gently drop against the top of Agatha’s. Her hair was as soft as it looked, Rio found out when her cheek hit the veeps scalp. It also smelled fucking amazing, like florals and hibicus and other expensive scent notes. Rio fucking loved her hair, especially her gray streak right at the front. She’d sooner rather eat her own hand than see Agatha dye it.

Nobody else was awake, just her. So if she let her eyes get heavy and close while still resting on the veep, nobody could prove it. Maybe Rio just fell asleep like everyone else and while she was knocked out, her body moved. No one could confidently say otherwise that's for fucking sure.

It wasn’t until there was some turbulence that Rio woke up, craning her neck upright again. There was the noticeable absence of the human warmth she’d fallen asleep with. She blinked a few times, looking around the cabin, finding the rest of the staff asleep.

Rio looked next to her, to Agatha’s seat, now empty. Through the window, she saw the sun rising over the clouds. The light was just starting to leak into the cabin as Rio got up in search of her candidate. The jet was fucking massive, with two bathrooms, a tiny bedroom, and lastly, a conference room.

Rio followed the sound of Agatha’s voice, pushing the already ajar door and entering the conference room.

She sat at the large wooden table, Rio’s laptop in front of her, performing the speech under her breath.

“Our community is under attack-” Agatha whispered before tilting her head in dissatisfaction, fingers hitting the delete button a few times.

“Morning.” Rio said from the doorway.

“Is ‘attack’ too…?” Agatha didn’t look at her.

“Fearmonger-y?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Agatha’s head fell into her hands in frustration. “I don’t know why this speech is fucking with me so much.”

“Maybe because you know what would make it better-”

“Rio.”

But it wasn’t said like a few hours ago while Agatha was asleep, this time it was said as a warning.

“Why can’t you just put your mother aside and tell the damn story?”

Agatha stood. “Because I don’t want to.”

Rio met her at the end of the table. “Being president isn’t about your wants, it’s about what other people need.”

“I’m not talking about the camp, end of story.”

“Agatha-”

“End of story!” She yelled.

And apparently she still didn’t understand that shouting wouldn’t scare Rio into submission.

So Rio yelled back. “You lived it, let yourself talk about it!”

“Not a chance in fucking hell!”

“Why not?!”

“Rio-”

“Think of how many kids are going through the same thing right now!”

“I can’t save them!”

“You could if you’d just fucking-”

“I can’t!” Agatha screamed a few inches from Rio’s face. “I can’t because then I’d have to talk about it, think about it, relive it and-” Her voice shook. “And I have tried so hard to bury all of that.”

Agatha rested her hands on the table.

“I put it behind me to get where I am now and it’s worked. I could be the next leader of the free world in a few months, I can’t be vulnerable. I can’t be anything other than fucking perfect. I can’t fuck this up again, Rio. There’s too many people counting on me, too many eyes waiting for me to fail.”

“Nobody is waiting for you to fail, and” Rio let one of her hands cover Agatha’s. “Did you ever think burying it might’ve been what held you back the last time?”

“What do you mean?”

“The Agatha you are to the public could stand to gain a little humanity, a little bit of the real you. The voters want someone who knows their struggle, who can’t just sympathize but empathize.”

“And what if the public doesn’t like the real me?” Agatha asked, voice as quiet as Rio’s ever heard it.

“I’m still here, aren’t I?” Rio smiled. “I like the real Agatha better than the public one.”

She liked Agatha, period.

Professionally of course.

At least that’s the lie she was going to keep telling herself.

But a different problem for a different time.

“Well, that’s because I pay you.” Agatha swallowed hard. “Or you’re an anomaly.”

Rio had a sneaking suspicion that she’d stick around even without the money.

“Or I’m just the first of many, if you’d ever let other people in.”

Cloudy blue eyes, filled with so much anguish, looked into Rio’s. Trying to decide if Rio could be trusted, if she was telling the truth.

And so help her god, Rio was.

“Uh,” She turned away, grabbing the laptop. “We’re almost there, we should wake the rest of them, maybe Jen can take a crack at this speech.”

Agatha was already on the move back to the cabin.

“Yeah.” Rio agreed, but she was gone.

After checking into their hotel and changing, they arrived at Boston Pride. Rio had made the whole team wear Harkness-Calderu ‘24 pride shirts, which were just white t-shirts with the font printed in rainbow. Everyone styled theirs a little differently, Alice hacked the collar off hers, making it loose on her frame. Wanda tied hers into a knot at the front. Rio cuffed the sleeves on hers and tucked it into her jeans, and Agatha-

Agatha should’ve gotten a medium instead of a small because the way it clung to her-

Not only that but her jeans, the fucking jeans.

She had to force herself to stop staring at her ass with how tight Agatha’s jeans were. Rio needed to be in those jeans, she realized as they all arrived, she fucking needed it like a fish needs fucking water.

William was already running around with his phone in his hand, filming the street and Agatha.

“Okay,” Rio slid her sunglasses on. “We’re on a float in thirty, then Agatha’s speech. Tomorrow we visit the campaign headquarters and then-”

“A fucking break!” Jen yelled. “A whole weekend!”

They were spending Saturday and Sunday back at Agatha’s place in Salem. She very begrudgingly let them all crash at her beachside mansion, enjoying forty-eight hours with no politics.

“Thank you, Jen.” Rio deadpanned. “Now,” She looked at Agatha, “Do not fuck any of the lesbians who throw themselves at you.”

Agatha chuckled. “I don’t think-”

“Agatha,” Rio spoke. “You are like catnip to these people. You’re a fifty-one year old powerful lesbian who looks like you’d be mean to them in bed. You’ll be fending them off with a fucking stick.”

And Rio could easily fight anyone who’d try it.

Not that she felt territorial over Agatha, she had no claim on the woman.

“Yeah, keep it in your fucking pants, Harkness.” Wanda hissed.

What the fuck was her problem?

“It won’t be an issue!” Agatha threw her hands up in surrender.

They proceeded down the street, passing local businesses, secret service in tow, when someone bolted out of one of the shops.

“Madam vice president!” A woman eagerly ran up to them. “I love you.”

Oh fuck, the sapphics were already descending.

Agatha fully switched into character before Rio could even fucking blink.

She shook her hand. “Thank you, hon. Are you registered to vote come November?”

Always prioritizing the vote, god love her.

The woman nodded. “I can’t wait!”

“Me either!” Agatha laughed, the one that’s smooth like honey, not her real one.

“I actually own this place.” She pointed to the shop they were standing in front of. “I’d love to get you all something, on the house!”

“Oh, aren’t you just the sweetest-” Agatha, along with everyone else, looked at what place of business this woman owned.

Rio read the sign-

The Witches Road Adult Toy Store.

They were forty minutes away from Salem, but she could respect the effort.

And yeah, as much as Rio would love a free vibrator now more than ever, Agatha could not be seen in a sex shop.

Fox news would literally come in their pants at the prospect of reporting that.

Agatha looked back at the woman, “Unfortunately I can’t take any gifts, but maybe once I’m off the campaign trail.” And fucking winked.

Yeah, Rio was making a trip back to this shop the next free moment she had.

Agatha said her goodbyes and they kept moving.

“We’re going back after Agatha’s speech.” Alice told Jen.

“I wouldn’t have minded.” William added.

Oh, ew, that boy was basically a kid in Rio’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Wanda started. “Last lay I had was the biggest disappointment of my life, at least a machine won’t-”

“Use your fucking hands! Or did none of you pack sex toys? You all knew we’d be traveling for months, you should have planned your orgasms accordingly.” Agatha snapped.

“Maybe you should’ve gone in there.” Jen grinned. “Maybe an orgasm would help you relax.”

Rio could help. She could help her for hours, she could help her until she forgot her own name, help her until she was incoherent, help her until she couldn’t walk.

“Jen!” Agatha scolded as they reached the float.

The parade was a success, granted, Agatha did receive multiple bras flung at her during their time on the float. But secret service deflected them every chance they got.

Good to see Rio’s tax dollars hard at work.

They had approximately five minutes between getting off the float and to the stage where Agatha was speaking.

The final draft of the speech ended up being fine. Not great, not terrible, just fine.

Rio shepherded them all to the back of the stage, waiting for the cue. Agatha was speaking with Jen while Billy was showing footage to Wanda and Alice. Rio was on her phone, getting back to different donor emails when a CNN google alert took over the screen.

The announcer’s voice boomed through the crowd. “And now, madam vice president Agatha Harkness!”

Rio grabbed Agatha as she headed for the stairs leading up to the stage. “Agatha.”

“Rio, what the hell?” She took a few steps back from the stairs.

Rio turned her phone so the veep could see. “Your mother just endorsed Stark.”

The crowd was still cheering, hundreds of voices all screaming at once.

She took the phone, scrolling the article and reciting the exact quote from her mother. “I cannot stand by as my daughter threatens our very way of life. I must show my support for Mr. Stark and his dedication to traditional values, the very which America was founded on.”

“Just say you’re a white supremacist.” Alice grumbled.

“We had an agreement!” Agatha shoved the phone back.

This was astronomically bad PR.

A candidate's own blood showing their support for the opposition?

Shit show.

But, she could spin this.

It’s quite literally her job.

“You need to talk about the camp.” Rio tucked her phone back in her pocket. “Call her out.”

“Rio, I can’t.” Her voice wavered.

She grabbed Agatha’s shoulders. “You can. Just say what happened, say who did it, say it can’t happen again and that traditional values have only ever benefited those who created them in the first place.”

“What if-”

“Agatha, you’ll do great.” Rio reassured. “You’ll be perfect. You are perfect.”

The veep nodded, though she didn’t look confident, not like her usual self.

She looked rattled, almost scared.

She read the speech as written, getting cheers or laughs at the exact right moment. But when the last paragraph came, Agatha stopped and Rio saw the wall she normally put up crack a little bit.

“I couldn’t speak to you guys today without mentioning my mother’s recent, and I do mean very recent, endorsement of Tony Stark.”

The crowd booed at the mention of the man.

Good for them.

“I know, I know.” Agatha chuckled. “I like saying it just as much as you guys like hearing it.”

The park was flooded with people, some spilling out into the streets.

“But her endorsement is more than just a slight against me, it’s a dog whistle. It’s the polite way of defending bigotry. Traditional values are not what America was founded on. This country was founded on the idea of freedom, of hope, of something bigger than ourselves.”

Rio felt herself holding her breath, but she couldn’t exhale.

Agatha briefly looked down, summoning courage. “When I was seventeen I was sent to a place where those traditional values were enforced. It was a religious camp ran by ‘ex-gay’ ministers and faith leaders.”

The crowd, well over a thousand people, all fell silent.

“And I put ‘ex-gay’ in quotations because even god knew they weren’t fooling anyone.” She wearily smiled. “I was stolen from bed in the middle of the night with my mothers consent, I was forced to spend hours in confessionals with priests repenting for my sins.”

How easy would it be to find Evanora and strangle her to death, she idly wondered.

Agatha looked over to Rio off stage, her eyes were glassy. The wall wasn’t cracking, it was coming crashing down at full force.

She gave Agatha a little nod of encouragement, a signal that it’d be alright, that she’d be alright.

“I spent three months being told how evil I was, how-” Agatha’s voice broke. “How I was fundamentally created wrong, and how god would not love me just the way I am.”

Seriously, what’s the prison sentence for murdering a senator?

How much time could she be looking at?

She sniffled. “I tried for years to live those traditional values, and while it might work for some people, it should never be the standard. So my mother and Mr. Stark can have them, they can keep them.”

Rio didn’t take her eyes off Agatha as she finished.

“What we all have now is so much greater. We have love. Love that cannot be taken away.” She had one hand on the podium while the other gestured. “It’s no one’s business who or how we love and this must start with ourselves. That is the most difficult and important thing to know, that we are worthy of love. That you are important, that I am important. That there are so many issues to be enraged about other than love!”

Jesus fucking christ, the applause and cheers were like the god damn thunderdome after Agatha said that, Rio should’ve brought earplugs.

“I am so proud to be here today. I am so proud to be a part of this community. I am so grateful to have the chance, the opportunity to make it so nobody has to go through what I went through, or what any of us have gone through. Thank you all for your support and thank you for having me today.” Agatha smiled again, waving to the audience before taking her leave and meeting Rio off stage.

“That was fucking amazing!” Rio ran up to her and on impulse, threw her arms around the veep.

“I feel like I’m gonna be sick from all that sappy shit.” She muttered, but relaxed into the hug.

“At least you’re being really brave about it.” Rio quipped.

Agatha snorted as she pulled back, but not away, not out of Rio’s grasp completely. “You think it was good?”

Rio smiled, her face a few inches from Agatha’s. “You fucking nailed it.”

She smiled too, a genuine one.

They didn’t say anything for a moment, arms still wrapped around one another. There might’ve been responsibilities or people outside of their bubble, but Rio couldn’t bring herself to care.

“Rio-”

“Agatha!” Jen called from down the steps. “We need you to mingle with the gen pop!”

And just like that, the wall rose again with a vengeance.

Agatha dropped her arms and backed out of Rio’s embrace. “Let me know how socials react to it. Better get some good buzz off the sob story.”

And without another word, she fled down the stairs, leaving Rio alone.

She tried not to think about how she missed her candidate in her arms, or the way Agatha looked at her.

That’s not what she was here for.

She had a job, one she was doing well.

That should be enough.

‘Should’ being the motherfucking operative word.

Chapter Text

Who the fuck were all these people?

Agatha couldn’t name a single one, yet here she stood in her campaign headquarters speaking to them as if they were all friends.

Most of them looked to be college or grad students probably here for something to put on their transcripts. There were also the people whose literal job this was, but again, not a single name to be had.

“Thank you all for your time and your support!” She bellowed through the office. “We have a long road ahead of us but with this team, I’m pretty sure we can’t lose!”

No, they could.

They could most definitely lose.

Horrendously.

But politicians aren’t around to say things like that, they’re around to perform.

The office cheered and clapped as Agatha and her team scurried off into a conference room. They were strategizing and going over numbers before their weekend off started.

“Uh,” Rio spoke, pen still actively between her teeth as she looked over a sheet of figures. “We’re up by two in North Carolina, down by one in Wisconsin. Iowa is a dead heat, but it’s fucking Iowa, so..”

And that fucking pen being toyed with by Rio’s tongue, by her lips, was distracting Agatha.

“Did you do a line before you came in today?” Agatha snapped, looking at Rio sitting next to her at the table.

She scrunched her face. “No, I did not ‘do a line’ before I came in today.”

“Then stop chewing on your pen like it owes you money, it’s-”

Turning her on, immeasurably so.

“Stressing me the fuck out.”

Rio rolled her eyes, making a pointed statement of dropping her pen on the table. “My apologies, madam vice president.”

Rio always did that, used her formal title whenever she was being a smartass and it drove Agatha up a fucking wall. She wanted to hear it in a different context, one that she should never want.

The dreams only got fucking worse after Michigan. It’s like the more she fought it, the more her brain rebelled. Waking up on Air Force Two yesterday morning basically drooling on Rio’s shoulder didn’t help either. She’d never fallen asleep so easy, she’d also never bolted so quickly after sleeping with a woman. Literally sleeping.

Neither of them mentioned the hug following the speech or the moment afterwards, but Agatha knew it was only a matter of time before Rio brought it up. Maybe Rio was a little too emotionally mature, maybe Agatha was normal about how she processed emotions and her campaign manager was the freak.

“The New York Times wants to interview Rio for a piece they’re doing.” Alice said when Rio and Agatha had been staring each other down for a little too long.

“Interview me about what?” Rio looked at Alice.

“What it’s like being Agatha’s campaign manager. You know, the woman behind the woman and all that.”

To be fair, Rio was infuriatingly good at her job. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since Boston Pride and Agatha was already receiving an outcry of support. Of course there was the flipside of people saying that facts don’t care about Agatha’s feelings, but it was to be expected.

“Ah, perfect.” Agatha performatively smiled. “Remember that NDA when you’re talking with a journalist about me.”

“Oh, Agatha.” Rio grinned. “How could I ever forget it?”

“Maybe if I strangle you really hard and cut off the oxygen to your brain.”

Wanda mumbled under her breath. “Like you wouldn't love that shit.”

“What was that?” Rio asked.

“Nothing. Ignore her.” Agatha grumbled, yawning as she looked over her own stack of paperwork. “William, you got any drugs?”

And this gullible, innocent, loser of a boy choked. “Uh, no- no? Unless you mean Advil.”

“Shame, I could use a line right now.” She huffed.

“Now, now, darling-” Rio fake scolded.

Jen burst through the door breathlessly. “Agatha!”

“What the fuck, Jen?” Agatha stood.

“I tried blockading her, but-” Jen panted. “The bitch is tricky.”

“Who?”

And that was when Agatha’s body felt this imminent sense of ruin, like the harbinger of doom herself was close, like-

“Mother.” Agatha stated as Evanora appeared through the doorway, brushing past Jen.

“Agatha.” Evanora greeted.

Nobody else moved or said a word, just silently stared between the two.

“To what do I owe this…occurrence?”

“Let’s talk in private, hm?”

Motherfucker.

“Fine. Guys, we’ll circle back on this.” Agatha dismissed everyone.

Rio stood and whispered so Evanora wouldn’t hear. “Do you want me to hang back?”

Yes.

“No, I got it.” Agatha busied herself with shoving papers into a folder rather than looking at her. “It’ll only be a minute.”

Rio lingered for a beat before leaving behind Alice, Wanda and William. Jen shot her a sympathetic look before closing the door behind her.

“So you’ve been busy.” Her mother sniped. “You look tired.”

“I could say the same.” She cocked her head. “What’d he give you for your endorsement?”

“Secretary of education.”

Agatha humorlessly chuckled. “That’s like Exxon being put in charge of the fucking EPA.”

Evanora walked around the table. “You need to recant the claims you made yesterday.”

Agatha’s fists clenched, trying to get her body to settle, but it was of no use, she was always on edge around her mother. She was never safe, or loved, or comforted. Her brain might forget exact details, but the body always had to fucking remember.

“Claims?!”

“Do you know how hard it is to keep my seat in a state like Massachusetts? It’s deteriorating into socialism with every passing day!”

“Thank god! Maybe it’ll weed out the fucking grifters who want to take dinosaur theorem out of the third grade science curriculum!”

Evanora tilted her head. “Say you lied, we’ll put this behind us.”

“I didn’t fucking lie.” Agatha worked to keep her voice even. “If anything, I left shit out for your sake.”

“You used it for attention, you always did. Even when you were little you’d cry for hours just hoping someone would give you the time of day.”

“I was crying because you’d hit me.”

“Because you wanted attention!”

Okay, they were going in circles.

“Mother, I-” She took a breath. “I’m not recanting anything. I was gracious enough not to mention the abuse or when you forced father’s mistress to get an abortion, or-”

“Enough.” Evanora’s hand made contact with the table, and fuck if Agatha didn’t feel a crashing wave of embarrassment when she flinched at the motion. “I didn’t say anything during your last run because I knew you wouldn’t win.”

She felt herself retreating internally, like she was desperately trying to escape her own skin and dissociate.

“But this time you have actually fooled enough people into thinking you are someone worth following. Someone capable of leading a country.” Her mother spat out. “And I will not suffer as a consequence of your delusions of grandeur.”

She crossed her arms, waiting for the tirade to end.

“What you don’t seem to understand, Agatha, is that Stark will stop at nothing for this. He has unlimited funds and a platform that people don’t have to think too hard about to understand. He may not be perfect, but at least he’s not you. Don’t subject the American people to that.”

“Are you done?” Agatha quietly asked.

Please?

“No.” Evanora placed her hand on Agatha’s shoulder and smiled.

She had to resist recoiling at the touch, the wall of the conference room was made entirely of glass and everyone in the bullpen could see them.

“I sent you to a lovely camp to get better, and what do you do to repay me? Stab me in the fucking back.” The hand on her shoulder dug inwards, nails biting into her skin, even through her sleeve. “You better hope you win, because if you don’t, I will make your life a living hell. I will make you so politically toxic, no one in DC will want to speak with you without holy water and a priest on standby.”

And she couldn’t do anything but grit her teeth at her mother’s talons pressing in further. Smart move on Evanora’s part. It was subtle enough that Agatha couldn’t call in the fucking secret service for harming the vice president, but effective enough to make her feel worthless.

“And we both know that even if you did win, you’d be too much of a fuck up to get through your first term, let alone re-election.” Evanora’s smile didn’t falter. “Now smile, dear. There’s eyes on us.”

Against her better judgment, she did. She let her mother pull her into a hug, the same kind she always received for public events growing up, the ones that were never warm or out of affection. Just for show.

“Keep in mind the dirt I have on you.” Evanora whispered and released her after a beat. “Good luck on the campaign trail.”

Agatha stood catatonic as her mother left, breezing out of the office the same way she came in. She didn’t realize for how long she stayed like that. She didn’t realize how shaky her hands were until she felt someone touch one. She flinched again out of instinct only to see Rio next to her, gently taking her hand into her own.

The touch was warm, and comforting, possibly even affectionate.

“You okay?” She softly questioned, “You’re…” And pointed to her eyes.

Agatha blinked a few times.

Oh, tears.

Fuck.

“Yeah.” Agatha pulled her hand back, using it to wipe her eyes. “I’ll be right back.”

She blacked out how she got to the bathroom but she did, closing the door before leaning her back against it. She thudded her head against the lacquered wood repeatedly, fighting the wetness currently spilling down her face.

Agatha was the second most powerful person in the country, hypothetically anyway, and she crumbled after a few minutes in the same room with her mother? Pathetic.

And if Rio noticed her reaction, who else had? Did the entire office see her burst into tears because her mommy said a few mean things?

She let her legs give out, falling to the floor before tucking her knees against her chest. Her heels made them the perfect height for her to bury her head in and sob. She knew she shouldn’t have said anything at Pride, she fucking knew. And yet, she let Rio talk her into it.

Now her mother had means and motive for a political assassination. See? This is why she shouldn’t trust anyone, this is why she was destined to fail.

There was a knock on the other side of the door.

“Agatha?” Rio’s voice carried.

The woman just never fucking left her alone.

She debated ignoring it, but how would that look to an office full of people? Probably like Agatha was a difficult woman having a temper tantrum, that's how.

Agatha wiped the tears and snot as much as she possibly could before standing and opening the door. Rio quickly slipped in and closed it again.

“What happened?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Obviously not, you’re hiding in the bathroom and bawling.”

“Fuck, could you hear it?”

“No, I just,” Rio’s eyes were filled with sympathy. “I had a feeling.”

Sympathy meant pity, which Agatha did not need.

“What is this complex of yours that you feel like you have to save me?” Agatha hissed. “Fucking, white hat syndrome?”

Rio’s face twisted. “You’re upset I’m trying to help you?”

“I don’t need your help, I need you to leave me alone.” She turned to the mirror, assessing the damage. Oh, her eye makeup was fucked.

“I’m not trying to save you, I’m offering you comfort like a normal human being.”

“Well, I don’t pay you for that.” Agatha started trying to fix what she could, taking her ring finger under eye to collect the excess mascara.

“Are the only people close to you the ones you pay?”

Got her there.

“Rio. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

Rio’s face popped into Agatha’s peripheral. “Did she hurt you? Say something?”

Absofuckinglutely.

“Rio.” She said again, giving a final warning.

“I’m just trying to understand-”

“Stop!” She yelled. “Stop trying to care or fix shit or understand! It’s not going to happen, just do what you’re here to do!”

“I can’t!” Rio snapped back.

Finally she looked at her. “Why?”

“I don’t know and it’s driving me fucking insane! I can’t stop caring about whether or not you’re okay, I can’t stop thinking about you, I can’t do my fucking job without wondering-” Rio exhaled, stopping cold.

Agatha drew in an unsteady breath. “Wondering what?”

Copper eyes locked onto hers. “If I’m just horribly deluded or if you’re struggling too.”

Rio should be the politician here, her answers were vague enough.

Agatha’s mouth opened but nothing came out.

“So, just tell me you’re not okay and I can fix it.”

“Struggling with what?”

“Agatha-”

“Struggling with what, Rio?”

Her campaign manager sighed, trying to find the words. “Not to act on anything.”

Agatha wasn’t struggling, she was floundering, fucking drowning with no hope of survival.

But she could barely admit that to herself, let alone the person pulling her under. So instead, Agatha gave a small, barely there nod.

Rio took a step forward, almost touching. “Let me fix it.”

The attraction or her mother? Didn’t matter, neither were solvable.

“Which one?” She nearly whispered.

“Which do you want?” Rio pleaded. “Tell me what you want, Agatha.”

Her eyes drifted to Rio’s lips just like they had earlier with the pen. “I…”

Rio’s hand came around her waist. “Tell me.”

And the contact, even through her shirt, burned. Her dream got that much right.

Now their faces were close, less than a breath away. It would be so simple to give in, to let herself have this. Rio was looking at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, and Agatha couldn’t remember a time where anyone had looked at her like that.

Rio’s grip on her waist was strong, it was secure, it was safe. It was everything she’d never felt with women prior, it was everything she didn’t know she needed.

“We shouldn’t.” Agatha uttered.

“I didn’t ask about should.”

Her head fell forward until it was lightly resting against Rio’s. “We can’t.”

“Agatha. Tell me.”

And she made it sound so simple, like this was something Agatha was allowed to have. Something she was worthy of, possibly even entitled to.

So she amended her previous statement. “I can’t.”

Rio’s fingers dug in a little at her side. Unlike the fingers that dug in before, Rio’s felt like a declaration rather than a threat. That she was restraining herself until Agatha gave in, that she didn’t want anything from Agatha besides the truth. That she’d wait until Agatha was ready.

“And what about what you want?” Rio asked, tilting her mouth upwards, waiting for her.

Agatha wanted to be president. End of story. That was the plan. That was the goal.

But as her heart raced and her hand found Rio’s forearm, she didn’t know anymore.

“Rio-”

“What about what you need?”

Her mind felt hazy, she couldn’t think of what she needed with her lips centimeters from Rio’s.

“Please.” She settled for instead.

Please make the choice for me.

Please don’t make me say it.

Please, please, please.

“Baby,” Rio brought her other hand to thread through Agatha’s hair. “Show me.”

And something splintered.

Something fucking shattered.

Because that was all she needed to launch forward and connect her lips to Rio’s. To kiss her like she was what had been missing from Agatha’s life up until now. To kiss her like she was salvation personified.

Rio wasted no time returning the kiss, deepening it and threatening to consume everything Agatha was. Like it was her fucking birthright to unravel and claim her, opening her mouth wider to add tongue. At no point did Agatha think, just compiled. Hoping that if Rio was her downfall, she was one that Agatha could look back on and do all over again.

The kiss was all tongue and teeth, there was nothing gentle or slow, just energy that had been pent up far longer than what should be considered sane. Rio’s hands clutched her like she’d run any second. Her mouth moved like she was starving and Agatha was the first meal she’d had in eons.

It was messy and desperate and-

Exactly what Agatha needed.

It was what she craved.

There was a moan, one that Agatha was pretty sure she produced, and it forced her back to reality.

The reality of her duty.

The reality of who she was.

The reality that she was making out with her campaign manager who was sixteen years her junior.

The reality that she had never let her guard down for this long in possibly decades.

It all came crashing down at once.

“Fuck.” She pulled away, prying herself from Rio’s hold. “Fuck, fuck.”

The other woman’s hands chased after her. “Agatha-”

“I shouldn’t have done that.” She tried to speak with conviction, but the spiral had already begun. “I shouldn’t have.”

“Baby, it’s okay.” Rio soothed.

Not her baby.

Definitely her boss.

“Fuck.” She said, again. “That was a mistake.”

Her mother’s words seeped back into her head.

And we both know that even if you did win, you’d be too much of a fuck up to get through your first term,

“Shit.” Agatha looked down, contemplating what steps she had taken in life to end up here. “This didn’t happen.”

“It didn’t happen?”

Agatha looked up. “Yeah. I was upset and needed to blow off steam, and you were here…and it can’t happen again.” She corrected herself. “It didn’t happen.”

Rio looked at her, more accurately, looked right through her. It’s like she could read Agatha better than she could read herself.

“Okay.” She agreed.

That felt too easy.

“Okay?”

Rio tilted her head. “Okay.”

No, there had to be an angle here.

“This never happened?” Agatha tried to confirm.

“If you say it didn’t.”

And it only infuriated her more that Rio was going along with it. Not when she could only think about the possibility of it happening again, the want, the desire for a repeat.

“Good.” She lied.

“Good.” Rio replied, her lips still had remnants of Agatha’s lipstick.

“We don’t speak about it.”

Her campaign manager actually had the audacity to smirk. “Add it to the list.”

Agatha scoffed, making a move for the door when Rio’s hand shot out and found purchase on her hip. “Madam vice president, your shirt.”

She looked down, finding it askew from where Rio had been pawing at it. She shoved the fabric back to its place before grabbing a tissue from the counter and handing it to Rio.

“You got a little…” She pointed to Rio’s mouth.

But she didn’t take the fucking tissue, just swiped her thumb across her bottom lip before sucking the pad of her finger clean.

“All gone.” She smiled and left the bathroom with no further notice.

Agatha crumpled the tissue in her hand, taking her frustration out on it rather than her employee.

She looked at herself one more time in the mirror, making sure no one could tell how close to cracking she truly was.

Rio hadn’t fixed anything, in fact-

She had just fractured Agatha in two.

The politician, the one bound by country.

And the human who needed more than that.

Chapter Text

Okay, new plan.

Rio didn’t need to break Agatha down, clearly life had already done that.

Rio needed to build her back up, mend her, glue the fucking pieces of her back together.

Except Agatha was a stubborn, difficult, frustrating woman and somehow, that only made her hotter. She was withholding and mean and prone to outbursts. She was fucking unstable and Rio was just a little curious as to just how far into her denial she’d spiral before accepting Rio’s mercy.

The kiss was damming enough. Rio saw her struggle to even admit she felt something too, let alone act on it. But Rio could be patient, she could show some restraint.

Rio had control.

Enough for her and Agatha.

So, if the veep needed to live in denial for a little longer, Rio would let her have that.

But she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t constantly playing that moment back in her mind on a goddamn loop. The way Agatha clutched her arm, the earnest ‘please’ she shuddered when she couldn’t ask. Her lips, her jaw, her nose, her fucking eyes. Every time Rio blinked, the memory of kissing her boss played, if only for even just a millisecond.

But, she could hold herself back, she was not an animal.

Or that’s what she thought for the last thirty-five years of her life.

Until Saturday rolled around. They arrived at Agatha’s beach house in Salem on Friday night, everyone dispersing and finding a room. The house was a literal mansion, so there should have been plenty of rooms to choose from, hypothetically. There were three rooms on the bottom floor, three on the top. William, Wanda, Alice and Jen all took rooms downstairs, leaving Rio in a guest room upstairs just down the hall from the master where Agatha was sleeping.

Again, hypothetically fine. But when Rio left her room Saturday morning to meet everyone downstairs to head to the beach, she caught a glimpse of Agatha through the open door.

Unlike her boss, Rio was not too proud to admit that she’d happily get down on her hands and knees and crawl to the feet of this woman.

She was clipping her hair up, oversized linen button up hanging off her frame, a purple bikini underneath. It was the most skin she’d ever seen from the veep. Her thighs looked soft but toned, she had faint lines on her stomach from her abs. And good god, her chest in the flimsy excuse for a swimsuit-

Rio nearly died and it couldn’t have been more than a two second passing glance. Technically she shouldn’t be waiting around for Agatha at all. Technically that was a major scandal waiting to happen.

Sure, Bill Clinton got dragged through the mud for his affair, but he was a man. Same thing with a lesbian? Ten times more public scrutiny.

And what about Monica Lewinsky? No one knows about her career aspirations, she’s just the girl who got bent over in the oval office.

That could not be Rio’s claim to fame, fucking a president.

Or a vice president.

And the alternative?

Far worse.

Rio couldn’t be first lady. One, she’d fucking kill herself. And two, Agatha did not seem like the marriage type. Not that Rio was thinking about marriage, but it’s her job to imagine every outcome of a shit show.

“You good?” Wanda asked, standing next to Rio in the kitchen.

Rio realized she’d been zoned out for the last few minutes. “Yeah, sorry, it’s hard to get out of work mode.”

“I’ll ply you with enough booze that it won’t be a problem then!” She smiled.

“It’s ten AM, Wanda.”

“Fine, I’ll make mimosas.” She shuffled off, grabbing the champagne and orange juice.

“Anyone have sunscreen?” Alice rummaged around in her tote bag.

Agatha walked in, linen shirt now fully buttoned. “I have SPF 150.”

Fuck, did she see Rio staring at her upstairs?

Was she being creepy?

“Who the fuck needs SPF 150? It's Massachusetts not Mexico.” Alice twisted her face.

“Literally everyone, but I’m a WASP,” Agatha pointed to herself, then to William. “The boy is basically a ghoul.” Then she pointed to Wanda. “And, you know, ginger.”

Everyone was beach ready, different variations of swimsuits, cover-ups, and shorts. Rio looked at Agatha and subconsciously tugged a little on her oversized Harkness-Calderu ‘24 t-shirt. It was an XXL and usually she wore it to bed, but something about being around her coworkers in a two-piece made her feel weird.

“Fuck off.” Wanda muttered, finishing the drinks.

“By all means, get sunburned, Reba.” Agatha sneered.

Wanda slammed the champagne onto the counter. “I’ll burn something-”

“Okay,” Jen interjected. “This is supposed to be a fun weekend, let’s refrain from the bitchfest.”

Rio looked between the two.

There was something there.

They were fine before Michigan, friendly even.

Now though, they had this energy between them.

Eh, she’d deal with it once the weekend was over. She was supposed to be relaxing after all.

But running a presidential campaign doesn’t just stop. Her phone buzzed in her hand, the one that was basically a permanent claw at this point. It was a news alert she received because it had Agatha’s name in the article title.

She skimmed it before setting her phone down and sliding it across the counter. “Boston Lutheran church invited you to mass tomorrow.”

“No.” Agatha said, not even looking at Rio or the phone. “Actually let me rephrase, fuck no.”

“Agatha.” Rio rounded the island. “They’re a progressive sect of the denomination, they’re inviting you so that you can feel welcomed by the church.”

Agatha looked appalled. “I don’t want to be welcomed, I’d rather be feared.”

She sighed. “This could be a good move, show christian voters you don’t resent their beliefs.”

“But I do.” Agatha crossed her arms.

“Okay, but you don’t have to let them know that.”

“I haven’t been in a church in decades, I’m not going now.”

“What about like Christmas and Easter for bullshit photo-ops?”

“Rogers does that.”

“Agatha.” She dropped her voice a little. “You could get a fuckton of votes from one morning. Just knock back a shot or two and smile.”

“It’s gonna take a whole bottle for me to set foot in a place of worship.”

“Fine, if it gets you there.”

“Speaking of,” Wanda held up a mimosa. “Who wants a drink?”

“God, me. Me!” Agatha rushed away, grabbing a glass before opening the sliding glass door and walking out onto the deck.

Rio looked at Jen. “You know I’m right.”

“Yes, I do.” She said, “But I also know I won’t get through to her. Especially if you didn’t.”

“What’s that mean?”

Jen chuckled. “Rio, I have never seen someone handle Agatha like that in all the years I’ve known her. You might not think so, but she listens to you.”

“Only because I force her.”

“You think anyone could force that woman to do anything?” Jen grabbed a glass and headed for the door. “She’s kept you around this long because she knows you’re right.”

William had his head buried in his iPad, editing more videos for socials. He didn’t even look up as he followed Jen and Alice out.

No, Agatha did not listen to her. She didn’t. Everything with that woman was fought tooth and nail.

But Rio won in each one of them.

On GMA, Agatha listened to her.

With campaign stops, Agatha listened to her.

During Pride, Agatha listened to her.

Albeit begrudgingly-

Maybe Jen’s theory held water.

“Rio, alcohol.” Wanda extended a glass.

“Everyone in DC has a serious drinking problem.” Rio took the glass.

“Makes the fragility of our fraught political system easier to swallow.” Wanda said over the rim of her own drink. “Now let’s go.”

Once at the private beach in Agatha’s backyard, Jen, Alice and Wanda all took to the ocean while Rio, William and Agatha all stayed back in loungers.

William was still tapping away on the iPad in a t-shirt and swim trunks in a lounger furthest from Rio. Then Agatha with her eyes closed behind her sunglasses, seemingly content in the middle lounger. Then Rio, pretending to read a book.

“You know, having progressive christians on your side-” She started.

“Oh my god, do you ever give shit a rest?” Agatha lifted her head and perched her sunglasses atop her head.

Rio smirked. “I think we both know I’m pretty lenient.”

Agatha’s eyes went wide at the insinuation to their kiss yesterday.

“You know the Atlantic ocean is right there? I could hold you under.” She threatened.

“Breath play? Kinky.” Rio replied. “But you’re right,” She stood and peeled off the t-shirt, leaving her in a black bikini. “Think I’ll go for a swim.”

Yeah it was mean and petty, but the way Agatha’s gaze raked over her body was worth it.

“You gonna take off yours?” Rio pointed to Agatha’s still buttoned shirt.

Agatha scoffed. “No. Last thing I need is someone taking a picture of me in a swimsuit and then the Daily Mail is speculating why I don’t go to the gym more. Or go to the gym less. Or compare me to another female politician. Or say I ‘look good’ for my age.”

Unfortunately, a great fucking point.

“Too bad.” She started walking away. “Purple looks good on you.”

“Honey, everything looks good on me!” Agatha called back as Rio got further.

Rio had bugged her all afternoon about going to the church service, but she didn’t break until later that night, after they were all sat around the kitchen table after dinner.

“The priest is a gay woman!” Rio pleaded from her seat next to Agatha.

“Okay, we’re heading to bed.” Alice stood and grabbed Jen, exiting the dining room.

“I’m gonna go have a vacation cigarette.” Wanda said, grabbing her wine and heading for the deck.

“I’ll come with, Agatha won’t let me vape in the house.” William followed.

“Yeah, I stand by that decision.” Agatha responded, grabbing her own glass of wine.

“It’s a gesture of goodwill.” Rio continued.

Agatha rolled her head, deeply exhaling. “Do they follow the old testament?”

“Nope.” Rio grinned, taking a sip. “They have a pride flag hung above the door as you enter.”

“Ugh.” Agatha whined. “When’s the fucking service?”

“Eight.”

“In the fucking morning? Fuck, do christians have nothing better to do?”

“So you’ll go?”

“Fine.” Agatha knocked back the rest of her glass. “But you owe me.”

See? Agatha listened to her.

Rio opened her mouth in fake confusion. “And how ever will I repay you madam vice president?”

Okay, Wanda had maybe fed her too much alcohol. A steady stream of it all day, in fact.

Because that was too bold.

Agatha swallowed. “I’m going to bed, I have an erotic thriller calling my name.”

“You read erotica?” Rio snorted.

“It’s an erotic thriller, thank you.” She grumbled, standing and leaving.

Rio stood too, needing to put space between her and her boss. She opened the sliding glass door to the deck and joined Wanda and William. It was around ten and the only source of light was the soft twinkly lights that Agatha had strewn over her deck.

“Can I bum one?” Rio sat down next to Wanda, William on her other side.

“Of course.” Wanda perched her cigarette between her lips as she helped Rio light her own.

“Thanks.” She took a drag before looking at William, still on his iPad. “Dude, not to sound like ‘that guy’ but do you ever not look at a screen?”

He looked up from where he was chiefing on a little blue vape. “I’m editing the Pride footage for tiktok, it’s harder than I expected.”

She exhaled another drag. “Why?”

“Um,” His face went a little red. “Because I need her walking in to start the tiktok and-”

“And what?” She idly rolled the cigarette between her fingers.

He played the video and handed it to Rio, Wanda watching over her shoulder. Clear as fucking day, Rio was in the background, staring point blank at Agatha’s ass. It was before she had pulled her shades down and her eyeline was not up for interpretation.

Why must Agatha’s ass betray her like this?

“Fuuuuck.” Rio whispered.

Wanda started laughing. “You two are made for each other, swear to god.”

“So I’ve been playing with it all day to try and cut you out without making it look wonky.” William explained. “I have yet to succeed.”

Rio handed the iPad back and looked at Wanda. “What did you mean?”

“Hmm?” She giggled, puffing out smoke.

“We’re made for each other?” Rio prompted.

“Oh,” She conspiratorially leaned in. “Agatha’s into you.”

Yeah and the sky is blue, big deal.

But, mayday, mayday, mayday, nobody but Rio should know that.

“How do you know?”

“You really wanna know?”

Fucking obviously, jesus, Wanda was wasted.

“Yeah.”

“She said your name while we were…” Wanda raised her eyebrows suggestively.

No, Rio must be stupid.

Rio must be missing something here.

“While you were what?” Rio choked the cigarette in her grasp.

“Rio…” Wanda looked at her like it was obvious.

“You two…?”

Wanda rolled her eyes. “Actually, I should be accurate when I tell you this. She moaned your name while her hand was up my skirt. Fucking moaned it.”

William suddenly covered his ears, getting up and fleeing. “Lalalalala-”

She waited until he was inside before looking back at Wanda. “She moaned my name while she was with you?!”

“If you wanna fight me, I’m afraid I’m in no condition.” She took another drag off her cigarette that was mostly just filter. “You seem upset.”

Upset?

Upset.

Upset would be a fucking picnic compared to what she felt right now.

Rio was fucking furious.

So furious, in fact, that she wracked her brain for the exact night this could’ve happened.

Obviously Michigan.

Obviously the night that Rio walked her back to her fucking hotel room.

Agatha talked to her at the bar after having sex with another woman.

Honestly, very presidential of her.

And Agatha fell asleep on her on the jet after fucking Wanda. She kissed Rio in the bathroom after fucking Wanda.

She fucked Wanda.

Agatha fucked an employee that wasn’t Rio.

Wait, no, she fucked an employee, period. That’s why Rio was angry, because it put the campaign in jeopardy.

No, that’s fine, it’s cool. Rio felt chill about that.

Except-

Rio was under the assumption that even though they had done nothing more than kiss, Agatha was hers.

Even though it could lead to both their ruin, Agatha was hers.

Hers, hers, hers.

She didn’t get to fuck anyone else, she didn’t need anyone else when Rio was right there and waiting.

An indescribable rage filled her veins, flowing right past her heart and to her brain. Agatha didn’t get to have Wanda one day and Rio the next, that’s not how this worked.

“Thank you, Wanda.” Rio put out her cigarette and got up. “But touch her again and I’ll fucking skin you alive.”

“Fucking hell,” Wanda muttered under her breath.

She needed to find Agatha, get to her and know if this was true. If while Rio was doing her job, Agatha was fucking a staffer.

She didn’t know what made her angrier-

Her candidate being so incredibly fucking stupid.

Or her candidate being so incredibly fucking stupid with someone who wasn’t her.

And she knew it was playing with fire, she knew it could only end badly, she knew that everything was telling the contrary of what she felt, but fuck. Fuck being patient, fuck not being an animal, fuck everything.

Because right now, Rio felt very carnal.

Very territorial.

Like a kid who set a toy down for only a minute and it got swiped before she could blink.

Not that Agatha was a toy, but holy fucking hell, where did she get off?

Rio stormed back into the house, striding through the kitchen and the foyer before stomping up the stairs.

Was Agatha asleep by now?

Was she masturbating to her fucking erotica?

Why would she need to? Fucking Wanda was here!

Sure she felt some animosity towards her coworker now, actually she fucking hated her now. But that was something she could address later.

She reached the top of the stairs and tried to keep herself in check, tried to get herself under control. But Rio didn’t like sharing, never had, even when she was a kid. That’s why she went into politics, it was cutthroat, it was competitive.

But she kissed Agatha yesterday and in her brain, that meant something. It meant she was Rio’s.

And even before they kissed it was clear Agatha was hers just by how she reacted when they fought. By the way she hugged Rio, by the way her breathing calmed when she slept on Rio’s shoulder.

In every way except formal, Agatha belonged to her.

She reached the end of the hall where Agatha’s closed door was located, immediately raising a fist and banging on it.

Obnoxious? Sure.

Effective? Yes.

The door swung open after a minute, Agatha standing on the other side. Her hair was down and she was in a robe, the opening creating a V down her sternum. She had her glasses on and a book in her hand, face scrunched in offense and confusion.

“Rio, what the everliving fuck? It’s late and I apparently have mass in the morning-”

God couldn’t save her now, that’s for fucking sure.

She clenched her jaw, attempting to stay in control.

She knew control.

Wielded it well.

But then Agatha had to go and fuck her comms director.

“Did you fuck her?” Rio lowly spoke.

Agatha winced. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

Rio walked through the threshold before slamming the door shut, looking Agatha dead in the eye.

“Did. You. Fuck. Her?”

She brushed it off. “You could be referring to so many women right now-”

Rio kept walking until Agatha was physically corned, pushed up against a wall.

She placed one hand on either side of Agatha, bracketing her in.

“I’ll ask one more time, and you’re going to tell me the truth.”

Agatha nodded, jaw slack.

She didn’t fight, she didn’t object, just let Rio tower over her.

Okay, new plan.

Action now, consequences later.

“Did you fuck her?”

Chapter Text

“Did you fuck her?” Rio’s voice was like steel.

Well, no.

She hadn’t.

But how did Rio know?

And how did she not know that there had been zero sex that night with Wanda.

Her whole body was vibrating and Rio hadn’t touched her.

Her pulse was pounding in her ears as her body went slack against the wall. She’d never dreamt about being pinned by Rio but that didn’t mean it wasn’t welcome.

She subconsciously squeezed her thighs together, trying to ignore it.

No, she should find her damn spine and shut this down. Because as her campaign manager stared expectantly, waiting on an answer, Agatha felt her resolve crumbling.

She smirked. “I don’t know who or what you’re referring to.”

Rio cocked her head, a vicious smile plastered on her face. “Wanda, Michigan. I know you’re smarter than this, baby.”

Baby.

She choked back a moan name at the pet name.

Rio needed to stop calling her that.

But, seeing as she was literally backed into a corner with no way out-

“No.” Agatha spoke, trying to keep her voice steady even though she felt like her body was about to melt.

“No, what?” Rio hissed.

“No, I didn’t fuck her.”

It was the truth, and she could see how Rio was reading her, watching for a tell that Agatha was lying.

“What happened then?” Rio’s body got closer. “Why’d you say my name?”

Fucking soulless ginger bitch ratted her out.

“Wanda’s a drunk and a liar, I wouldn’t believe anything that comes out of her mouth-”

“Agatha.” Rio’s hands slipped from their place on the wall to her waist. “What happened?”

She was grabbing Agatha like she was hers to touch. It was possessive and commanding, a prelude to more.

“Nothing, we just-” She took a breath, although it was a fucking pipedream to get any kind of air to her lungs right now. “We fooled around a little, things went south, she left.”

“Fooled around?” Rio’s fingers gripped. “How?”

Did she need a fucking play by play?

“Why do you need to know?” Agatha moved her hips forward fractionally, not committing, but not discouraging. “Are you jealous?”

“You sexually harassed one of your staffers, if that got out-”

“And what are you doing then right now, Rio?” Agatha challenged. “Seems pretty unprofessional to pin your boss to a wall.”

“Like you haven’t thought about this,” She dryly chuckled. “Or, sorry, dreamt about this.”

She fucking knew about that?

“I don’t know-” She tried.

“Don’t lie to me.” Rio chided. “It doesn’t suit you, baby.”

Okay, Agatha maybe had thirty seconds before she was unable to come back from this. Unable to have plausible deniability.

“Tell me what happened.” Rio prompted. “I want exact details.”

She threw her book on the dresser next to them along with her glasses. “We left the bar and went back to my room, we made out-”

“Where in your room?”

“Does it matter?”

Rio pulled her until their hips were pressed together. “I said exact details.”

Agatha huffed, ignoring the shivers shooting through her body. “Against the door.”

Her campaign manager yanked her from the wall before pressing her against the door. “Like this?”

The thirty seconds were coming to a close, and now she was being manhandled. There is no god, but if there was, she just knows he hates her.

“Wanda was the one pinned-”

“Don’t say her fucking name right now.” Rio rasped. “Then what?”

Her internal timer was nearing the end.

Three.

“Rio-”

Two.

“Then what?”

One.

“I kissed her.” Agatha shakily spoke.

Rio didn’t hesitate as she dove forward, colliding her mouth with Agatha’s. It was less restrained than the one yesterday, like Rio’s grip on her own sanity had snapped. Her hands were everywhere, struggling to find a place to settle.

Agatha’s head fell back against the door as Rio devoured her, licking into her mouth before sliding her tongue against Agatha’s. She slung her arms over Rio’s shoulders, arching into the touch.

It was raw and intoxicating and she wanted-

Needed more.

Rio’s teeth sunk into her bottom lip, lightly tugging before letting go. “And now?”

Agatha blinked, panting and trying to catch up. “Um,”

She wasn’t thinking about Wanda, didn’t fucking want to.

“I grabbed her thigh.”

Rio’s hand snaked under her robe, a warm hand leaving a searing feeling against her skin.

“Like this?” Rio spoke with a quiet intensity.

Exactly like that, but-

“Harder.” Agatha whispered.

The hand on her thigh gripped with more force, almost bruising.

“Better?”

She nodded. “Perfect.”

“What happens next?” Rio flexed her fingers.

“I started pulling at her top, trying to get it out of the way.”

Rio’s free hand shot up to the opening of her robe, tugging on one side. “And did you succeed?”

“No.”

Agatha was naked underneath, unluckily enough, and even through the silk she knew Rio could see how hard her nipples were.

“Fuck that.” Rio muttered, pulling at the opening and exposing Agatha’s chest, belt in the middle still knotted.

Her fingers tangled in Rio’s hair as the younger woman ducked her head down and ran her tongue teasingly over one of Agatha’s nipples.

“God,” She moaned.

Rio’s lips trailed up her sternum, finding her neck. She licked at the hollow of Agatha’s throat before tilting her head up, looking directly into her eyes. “And now?”

Agatha was going to fucking combust if Rio didn’t do something and quickly. The touches and words weren’t enough.

She needed more.

“I felt how wet she was.”

Rio kept eye contact as her hand left Agatha’s leg and cupped her at the apex of her thigh. Rio damn near fucking moaned at the feeling of Agatha literally dripping onto her fingers.

“Was she this soaked?” Rio’s voice strained.

She weakly shook her head, too focused on the touch to speak.

But Rio didn’t move her hand any more. “Then?”

“She- she left when I said your name.”

“How’d you say it?” Rio grinned, finally moving her digits through her slit, gathering the arousal.

“Rio.” Agatha whined.

“That’s not what I was told.” She spoke smugly, fingers teasing her entrance. “I said exact details.”

She pushed her hips forward, chasing the contact.

“Baby,” Agatha pleaded.

Rio stuttered for a minute, apparently the pet name affected her just as much as it affected Agatha. Two fingers finally, thank fucking god, finally sunk into her. Fuck, they were perfect and Agatha’s imagination had not given them due credit.

“Oh, fuck, Rio-” She moaned.

“That’s it, baby.” Rio praised, grabbing her thigh again with her free and hoisting it around her hip. “Let me hear you.”

At her big age of fifty-one Agatha did not consider she’d ever be getting fucked against a door by her thirty-five year old campaign manager, but she supposed she could be doing worse.

“Rio, Rio fuuuck.” She loudly groaned at the feeling of her fingers steadily pumping. “So good.”

Rio buried her face against her neck, kissing and biting as the door rattled on every thrust. “Did she touch you like this?”

“No,” She spoke through breathy noises. “Never.”

Rio sped up.

“I don’t like others touching what's mine.”

Hers?

She wasn’t an object.

Agatha wasn’t hers-

Rio’s fingers curved on the next return, and Agatha almost shrieked at the way they hit that perfect fucking spot.

Okay, okay, temporarily, Agatha could be hers.

Not that she’d say it out loud.

“More.” Agatha said through her throat which was threatening to close on her.

Rio’s hand shifted, pulling out completely before adding a third finger and resuming her pace. Agatha’s hands were flailing trying to find purchase somewhere and anchor as she stretched around her fucking staffer’s hand.

She let out this pathetic sound, even she knew it was pitiful despite her entire body being on edge. “Yes, fuck- Ri- Rio.”

“You feel so good, so fucking tight for me.”

She needed to do this again but with Rio wearing a strap, she decided.

Wait, no.

This could not happen again.

This was a one time thing, no repeats.

Rio’s hand curved so that her palm was against Agatha’s clit, causing her to grind against it as her hips bucked.

Every thrust, every grunt, every time her back hit the wood of the door, everything was exactly what she needed. Maybe a little too much because she idly found herself wondering if Rio’s goal was to literally fuck her through this door.

She wasn’t going to survive this, she felt her leg starting to quiver, her hips started faltering, her walls clenching.

“Baby, I’m gonna-” She breathed out and let her eyes fall shut.

Rio only redoubled her efforts, fucking her faster, adding as much pressure to her clit as she could.

“Go ahead, come all over my fingers.”

She needed more, she needed-

“Kiss me.”

Rio met her quickly, placing a filthy kiss against her lips as she finally gave in. Agatha’s body tensed on the last thrust, disconnecting and throwing her head back in pleasure. Rio kept going as the orgasm pulsed through every inch of her, whispering things Agatha couldn’t quite catch in her sex haze.

Best orgasm she’s had in years?

Yes, but Rio wouldn’t get to know that.

“You’re so pretty when you come.” Rio murmured, slowing her hand.

Agatha blushed. Actually fucking blushed.

Oh, she needed to get a grip, is what she needed.

She dropped the leg that was still wrapped around Rio’s waist. “That was a mis-”

Rio carefully withdrew her fingers before sucking off each individual digit, hollowing her cheeks as she moaned around them.

“-take.” Agatha faltered as her mouth went dry.

“Didn't sound like one.” Rio’s sticky hand reached for the tie of her robe. “Didn’t feel like one.” Fingers deftly undid the knot. “Didn’t taste like one.”

She should end this, cover herself up, send Rio back to her room.

“Do you want to stop, Agatha?” Rio genuinely asked, hands splaying themselves on her stomach. “Or is that what you know you should say?”

It’s what she should say. It’s what was the right decision for both of them, for both their careers, for both their futures. Agatha was very painfully aware that if she was a sinking ship, Rio would be the first one taken under. If Agatha was a burning building, Rio was going to be crushed under the rubble. If Agatha-

“Because I want nothing more than to get you on that bed and fuck you until you’re limping into that church tomorrow morning.” Rio spoke, hands tenderly caressing her exposed skin.

Who just says shit like that?

Even more infuriating, why the fuck was it working?

And maybe it was her altered state of mind, the post-orgasm clarity, but she found herself wanting that too.

“Yes.” She whispered, as if saying it louder would make it any less true.

Rio’s hands stopped, instead coming to the sides of her robe and tugging her along as she moved towards the bed. She grabbed Agatha’s face, kissing her as they moved. Fuck, kissing her was addictive. A drug that if Agatha didn’t play her cards right, she feared she’d become dependent on.

She felt Rio pull off the rest of the robe as they reached the edge of the bed, pushing her back until she hit the mattress. She expected Rio to pounce, to climb on her, but the younger woman only stood over her, looking at her body like she was committing every inch of it to memory.

Agatha tracked her movement, clocking the exact moment copper eyes stopped on her arm. The arm her mother had grabbed yesterday, the arm that had bruises in the shape of crescent moons.

This was a test, a make or break moment of how Rio reacted. Say anything, and this was over. Agatha would not be a victim, not right now. She could not bear to have her mother ruin another thing in her life.

Apparently Rio knew better, settling her gaze back on Agatha’s face before uttering three words. “So fucking perfect.”

“I know you like to lurk,” She smirked. “But this is kind of a ‘participation required’ type of activity.”

Rio briefly bit her lip, taking a few steps away. “Stay there.”

Agatha watched dumbfounded as Rio disappeared, closing the door behind her.

Okay, she’d never had an adverse reaction to her naked body with women before. Why would she? She knew she was hot, even the lesbians on twitter thought so. Where the fuck did Rio get off, just leaving her here?

She reclined on her elbows, trying to make sense of what just happened.

Rio was jealous.

Rio fucked her against the door.

Rio moved her to the bed.

Rio left.

Right…

She had fucking law degree and yet here she was trying to understanding the inner workings of her campaign mangers mind.

Rio rushed back in, slamming the door again.

Please let everyone else in the house be asleep or dead.

Agatha didn’t realize what she had in her hand until she approached the edge of the bed again.

“Why the fuck do you have a strap-on?” Agatha sat up, suddenly very offended that Rio was going to try and use that on her after however many women Rio had met along their travels.

“Bought it at Pride.” Rio grinned.

“Why?”

And this fucking cocky son of a bitch-

“Had a feeling it’d come in handy.”

Agatha reached out, finding the hem of Rio’s t-shirt and pulling it upwards. “Smug motherfucker.”

Rio threw the strap and harness onto the bed, lifting her arms as Agatha pulled it off her body. God damnit, she had abs, like real ones, like ones Agatha wanted to lick.

She dropped her hands to the zipper of Rio’s jeans. “You fucking piss me off, you fucking frustrate me to no end, you arrogant fucking prick-”

She harshly ripped the denim down Rio’s legs, watching as she stepped out of them before kicking them somewhere far away.

And she was right-

Boyshorts. Clinging to her, perfectly sculpted.

Her whole body was tanned and toned and, christ, Agatha could’ve wept at the sight. She only made it worse by quickly undoing her bra, flinging it across the room, followed by her underwear.

Rio’s hand came to cradle her jaw, tilting it upwards. “And yet you’re still gonna beg for me.”

Agatha chuckled, she had to. “Unlikely.”

She tried to grab at Rio when hands seized her wrists, stopping them mid-motion. “Did I say you could touch?”

Oh.

“Be good for me and maybe I’ll let you.” Rio let her wrists drop, reaching for the strap and harness before slipping it on. “Don’t make me have to punish you, baby.”

Oh-

Her mind went blank as she tried to conjure what those punishments might entail, what Rio would do, and why the fuck did it intrigue her so much?

She needed to level the playing field here, even if she was definitely dripping onto this duvet right now.

She snorted and pointed to the appendage now between Rio’s legs. “What is that, like six inches?”

Rio blinked, seemingly unaffected. “You wanna bend over and find out?”

Yes, yes she so fucking did.

But she couldn’t make it that easy.

She smirked. “Make me.”

The woman is stronger than she appeared because as soon as Agatha finished that sentence, she felt firm hands on her hips, flipping her over with ease.

And she could have fought back, could’ve struggled, but her body just let itself be manipulated.

She found herself on her hands and knees, trying to breath as she felt those fingers return to her cunt. “Well when you put up a fight like that…” Rio’s voice dripped with sarcasm.

Agatha looked over her shoulder. “You could literally make your dick any size and you chose to make it that small?”

Rio’s hand flattened, collecting the wetness before coating it around the strap. “I’d be offended if you weren’t literally leaking for me, baby.”

Her head dropped as she felt the tip teasing her. “Rio.”

“You want it?”

Fine, fuck it, she was already here and in a compromised position, playing coy wasn’t fucking doing anything anyways.

Her breath stuttered as she replied. “Yes.”

“Beg.”

“Please.” Agatha mumbled.

Rio’s hand came into harsh contact against her ass, smacking it and holding the flesh as it burned. “What was that?”

If that was punishment, Agatha just felt a lot more incentivized to misbehave.

“Oh, fuck you.” She groaned.

Another strike landed and she couldn’t hold back her obnoxious moan.

She could hear Rio’s smirk even though she couldn’t see her. “How do you think the American public would react to knowing Agatha Harkness likes to be spanked?”

“Probably spike my polling numbers-”

Rio finally climbed on the bed behind her, fisting a hand in her hair at the base of her neck and snapping her head back. “Do you wanna be good for me?”

And she’d make a note to lobotomize the portion of her brain that answered for her. “Yes.”

“Then beg.”

A simple instruction.

Maybe Agatha could just give in, just this once, put everything else she had to be down and just follow orders.

“Please, baby.” She said loud enough for Rio to hear. “Please.”

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me, I need it.”

The tip started teasing her entrance, immediately sliding in. “Fuck, you really do.”

“Please baby, I’ll be so good for you.” She shuddered as she felt Rio slowly start pressing the length forward. “So good.”

“That wasn’t so hard was it?” Rio’s tone was laced with condescension. “You’re taking it so well.”

Upon further reflection, the strap might’ve been closer to six and a half inches because the stretch as Rio filled her actually made her mewl. “Oh god-”

“I doubt he’s here.” Rio husked, hand still in her hair, using it as leverage as she pulled back before gently thrusting back in. “How’s it feel, baby?”

“Faster.” Agatha spoke, eyes already heavy. “Please.”

Rio snickered. “You’re the boss.”

She felt Rio pull out almost entirely before snapping her hips forward, burying her cock to the hilt.

“Oh my god!” Agatha screamed, hands fisting in the sheets.

And Rio could take direction well, starting a brutal pace as she drove into her. Agatha had never felt so fucking full, so fucking needy. Rio’s hand pushed her head down to meet the mattress before letting go, both hands settling on her hips. The second she had enough hold, she started tugging Agatha’s hips to meet every thrust, every return.

Her jaw went slack as she released the most pornographic sounds her throat can create, barely muffled by her face against the bed. Why did she fight this for so long? Why didn’t she give in sooner? Her eyes were pricking with tears as Rio brutally fucked her, like a wild animal finally let out of its cage.

Rio’s grip on her body was bruising, her thrusts were merciless, and the things she said-

“You look good like this.” Rio spoke through heavy breaths. “So fucking desperate.”

She was definitely staining the bedding with her running mascara and drool at this point, but her mind couldn’t focus on anything other than how Rio felt inside of her. How relinquishing a little bit of power had actually benefited her.

“Fuck- fuck, Rio!” She called out on a particularly hard thrust.

“C’mere.” Rio tugged on her body, essentially treating as though she were a ragdoll. Making her sit up so her back was flush with Rio’s chest, as soon as she was situated, a hand wrapped around her throat. It wasn’t enough to constrict her breathing, but Agatha’s breath caught just the same.

The new angle made Rio feel so much bigger, so much deeper. The only thing she could hear were the lewd noises of Rio’s thrusts and her own panting.

“Baby,” Agatha whimpered. “I’m close.”

Rio’s free hand came between her legs, lightly circling her clit.

“You sound so pathetic around my cock, madam vice president.”

Her stomach flipped. “Yeah-”

The hand on her neck squeezed ever so slightly. “And you’re all mine.”

There that was again, the possession.

She bit her lip, trying to keep her thighs from giving out.

“Say it.” Rio demanded, hand constricting.

“Rio, let me come.” She begged. “Lemme come.”

“Say you’re mine.”

Her skin was covered in sweat, her makeup was running down her face, her whole body was straining against its own release.

“Pleasepleaseplease-” She babbled on the verge of actual tears.

“Say you belong to me, say you’re mine, say nobody else can have you.” Rio rasped, circling her clit faster. “And I’ll come with you.”

Fuck, she wanted that, she wanted it so badly that anything else simply slipped her mind. She felt stupid, she couldn’t think clearly, all she knew was she needed to know what it was like to hear and feel Rio come.

“C’mon baby, I can feel how close you are.” Rio taunted. “Be a good girl and say you’re mine.”

Her hands shot out, one on each of Rio’s thighs. She half expected Rio to stop, to scold her for touching, but Rio didn’t seem to notice, just as enthralled in this as Agatha was.

Rio’s strokes became deeper which Agatha didn’t think possible, but her mouth obeyed. Her body forced it out of her.

“I’m yours.” She moaned. “I’m yours!”

“Again.” Rio commanded.

“Yours.” Agatha nearly sobbed. “Baby- yours, yours, yours-”

“No one else can touch you like this.” Rio’s fingers pressed down.

“No one.” She dumbly agreed.

“It’s only me.”

“Only you.” Agatha croaked. “Please.”

Rio’s breath was scalding against her ear. “Come for me.”

And on command, Agatha broke. White-hot pleasure surged through her veins, maybe through the atoms that created her, tearing her apart.

“GOD-” She screeched, feeling Rio’s arms come around her waist to catch her from falling over.

It was like the world around her went static, only a fuzzy feeling left as her body pulsed, overwhelmed by a heavy feeling of ecstasy.

Okay, correction, that was the best orgasm she had in years.

Maybe ever.

She vaguely made out the feeling of Rio’s body tensing behind her. The breathy sound of an-

“Oh fuck.”

But she couldn’t register it, not really. What she did register was the sensation of something sticky on her thighs, almost coating them.

Agatha deeply exhaled as her heart hammered against her ribcage before feebly looking down. Fuck-

“Madam vice president…” Rio smugly spoke, running her fingers through the glistening remnants of Agatha’s orgasm. “That was the hottest thing I have ever seen.”

“I didn’t-” She said through the hoarseness of her voice. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

“I'm gonna make you do it again.” Rio gently lifted Agatha off the strap, helping her to lay flat against the bed.

“Again?” Agatha deliriously asked.

Rio positioned herself back between Agatha’s legs, guiding the shiny strap back into her cunt. “Again.”

Agatha arched off the bed, wailing at the welcome intrusion. “Rio, god!”

She grinned. “God knows you need it.”

Chapter Text

The cold light of morning was, to be frank, a dick. Agatha woke up bleary eyed with something warm wrapped around her, an arm slung over her waist and a steady stream of warm air puffing against her neck.

She looked over her shoulder to confirm what she already knew. Rio next to her in bed, spooning her. A minute ago she’d been so relaxed, getting the best sleep of her life. And now, another fucking nightmare. One from which she couldn’t wake up.

Rio looked so peaceful. Agatha didn’t have one single inclination to strangle her, which was rare. She turned her head, looking at the wall beside the bed.

This was not good.

This was very bad.

This was catastrophic.

She gently lifted Rio’s wrist, moving her arm off of her, praying to a god that she didn’t believe in that her campaign manager wouldn’t wake. How fucking dumb could she be? She was older, she was the one who had authority over Rio, she was intelligent enough to know better.

And yet last night, she wouldn’t have been able to tell that she was any of those things. Rio had all the authority, she had all the power, and Agatha just let her. Because in some weird, blocked off part of her mind, she liked it. Wanted more of it. Not that she should have it, that wasn’t what this was. It was one time, it was a mistake, this was over. She slid her body away from Rio’s, inching out of her own bed like it was a one night stand.

Because it was.

She can’t even remember what time they went to actual sleep, things got a little jumbled after her fourth orgasm. She can’t even remember Rio taking off the strap, but she does strangely remember Rio holding her afterwards, playing with the end of her hair, placing delicate kisses to her temple as she dozed off.

Agatha cracked her neck, literally trying to physically push away the memories. She didn’t get that anymore, she didn’t get to be vulnerable. Vulnerability only leads to more pain in the end. And this would end, one way or another, so it might as well be now before either one of them got too attached.

There was no future here.

And what did Rio get out of this? Getting off on dominating someone in a high position of authority? Something more sick? Jesus christ, please not let it be a mommy kink. The thought alone made Agatha nauseous. But it had to be something in that ballpark, right?

Rio had a career, one that was just taking off, and Agatha did not want to be the nail in that coffin. Plus, how would they even sell that to the public? Former employee turned FLOTUS? She can see the headlines now.

There was their age difference.

There was an imbalance of power.

There was the fucking scandal of it all.

They’ve both worked too hard to implode one another like this.

No. She would not let this bring her down, now was not the time to indulge and go soft. She didn’t get that luxury. She simply needed to put this in a box in her brain and then put that box in the attic and then set the attic on fire.

She rose out of bed, bending down to grab the robe that Rio had torn from her body last night. And Rio wasn’t kidding, as Agatha stood, she realized walking into church this morning would be a Herculean task.

Oh, fuck-

They had church.

Her eyes glanced at the clock, two hours ‘til mass.

Thank god, ironically.

She tied her robe, heading for the en suite bathroom, cracking the door open at a snail's pace so as to not create any noise.

“Ma’am?” William said at full voice volume as he knocked on the door.

Motherfucking fuck.

Rio’s eyes fluttered open as she sat up on her elbows, bedsheet falling off her chest. Damn, she looked even better with proper lighting.

She snapped her gaze from her campaign manager's tits long enough to walk over to the door, opening it so William could only see a sliver of her.

“What?” She barked.

He held up a mug and awkwardly smiled. “I made your coffee and I have your newspapers.”

Agatha took the mug and finagled it through the minimal opening before swiping the papers. He stood there, staring.

“Well go.” She scowled.

“You have a little-” He cleared his throat while motioning to his own neck. “And…” He motioned to his face.

“Leave before I hurt you.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He frowned before scampering off.

Agatha slammed the door and turned to Rio, lazily lounging in the bed, no urgency to be had. “You fucking marked me?”

She smirked. “How was I supposed to know you bruise that easily? I barely sucked.”

“Okay, time for you to go.” Agatha slapped the papers down on the bed.

“You don’t wanna cuddle?” Rio faux pouted. “You’re breaking my heart, baby.”

That inclination to strangle her was back.

“Do not call me that. I’m not…” She didn’t want to say the word.

“Mine?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not what you said last night.”

“Plenty of people say things they don’t mean during sex! It’s not legally binding!”

Rio pursed her lips. “It really sounded like you meant, you know? Like how’d it go?” She started moaning like Agatha had last night. “I’m yours. Baby, please, I’m yours-”

“I did not sound like that.” Agatha hissed.

“Yes you did.”

“No I didn’t, you’re making me sound like a pornstar.”

“Mhmm, I’d pay good money to watch that.”

She deeply exhaled. “Okay, here’s what's going to happen. I’m going to get in the shower and when I’m back, you’re not going to be here anymore, got it?”

Rio batted her eyelashes. “Got it, madam vice president.”

Would she ever be able to hear Rio say her title again without buffering? She didn’t like the odds.

“You gonna drink that?” Rio pointed at the mug. “Kinda exhausted.”

She rolled her eyes and handed her the coffee. “I thought young people were supposed to bounce back like nothing after fucking all night long.”

“I’m not twenty.” Rio took a sip, still completely naked and unbothered about that fact. “But I’m sure I could rally if you let me in that shower with you.”

“What is this?” Agatha sprawled out her arms.

“This coffee is fucking delicious, you should give the boy a raise.” Rio said after lowering the mug again. “What is what?”

“Do you have like a MILF kink for this or something? A fetish for fucking older women?”

“Wouldn’t you have to have a kid for me to have a MILF fetish?”

Fuck, she walked right into that one.

“You know what I’m trying to say.”

“Do I?”

“Rio.” Agatha snapped. “Answer the fucking question.”

“Can the answer not just be that you’re hot and I like you?” She tilted her head.

“So you’re risking your livelihood and this entire campaign because I’m hot?”

Rio set down the mug. “Agatha, we’re both adults, we can keep this isolated to just us.”

Another knock on the door came. “Madam vice president?” William called. “I know you said to go but Jen’s looking for Rio and I didn’t think you’d like her finding her in here.”

Rio was up like a bolt of lightning, taking the sheet and wrapping it around herself as she rushed to the door.

“How’d you know I was in here?”

He averted his gaze even though Rio was completely covered. “My bedroom is right below you guys.”

“So you just weren’t going to say anything a minute ago?” Agatha peered around the door.

“My job requires a lot of discretion.” He nervously flickered his eyes to her as he spoke. “Anyways, Jen needs Rio for some press thing.”

“Anyone else hear?” Agatha asked.

He shook his head. “Wanda was still outside smoking, Alice and Jen were…”

“Fucking?” Rio finished.

“Yeah.” He muttered.

Perfect, their moans probably drowned out Agatha’s.

“Gimme a sec.” Rio slammed the door in his face, dropping the sheet and finding her clothes. “Fucking twink.”

“Still think we can keep this isolated?” Agatha raised her eyebrows. “The boy heard you inside me.”

“You think he’d talk?” Rio frantically pulled on her jeans.

“No, but who’s to say who’ll hear us next time?”

Next time?

Rio smiled as she threw her shirt on. “Next time?”

No, that slipped out. That didn’t count.

“I misspoke.”

“You’re a politician, you never misspeak, you calculate every fucking word before you say it.” Rio found her bra and underwear.

“Just get out.” Agatha crossed her arms.

“Enjoy the shower, baby.” Rio kissed her cheek on the way out. “See you for church! Wear a turtleneck!”

She wiped off the excess moisture Rio’s lips left behind from her cheek, watching as Rio disappeared behind the door. She was not her baby, she would die on this hill. It did not hold any significance to her, that’s what she told herself. She was stressed from the campaign and Rio was a remarkably good stress reduction method. Agatha would dig her heels in and fight this with everything she had left in her.

When she got into the bathroom and looked at herself, she audibly gasped, almost not recognizing her own reflection. Her makeup, which she had slept in, was still splattered across her face, outlines of where tears fell imprinted her skin. There was one dark purple mark near the base of her neck, and she had no fucking clue when Rio had achieved branding her, marking her, claiming her like territory.

Agatha didn’t choose to note how well rested she looked despite the mess, how her face was free of dark circles, maybe even a little glowier. She just got in the shower, and let the scalding hot water wash away her sins.

An hour later, her and Rio sat in complete silence on the way to Boston for fucking mass. The stretch town car only held them, everyone else stayed back to enjoy their last day of freedom before spending their days cooped up in a bus again. A black SUV both in front of and behind the town car with little American flags created an alarmingly douchey spectacle in Agatha’s opinion.

“I like your shirt.” Rio spoke, sitting across from Agatha.

She didn’t look away from watching the scenery pass outside the window. “It’s almost July and I’m wearing a turtleneck, fuck off.”

“Agatha, c’mon.” Rio tried getting her to turn her head. “I didn’t mean to, it was a mistake.”

“One amongst many.” Agatha muttered.

Rio tucked her tongue against her cheek. “Do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“The self-flagellation.”

She looked at her. “I’m not doing that.”

“Lie.”

Agatha ground her teeth and pressed the little button on the roof to put up the divider between them and the driver.

“Do you know what would happen if this got out, Rio?”

“It won’t-”

“You’d be a fucking joke to every poli sci major and man with a fucking podcast. I’d be a political pariah. My funding and donors would vanish. My supporters would probably compare me to any other man in power who’s ever slept with a subordinate while simultaneously chastising me for knowing better. You’d never work in DC again, but hey, maybe you’d get a fucking Balenciaga campaign and a nice bookdeal once your NDA expires in a decade.”

Rio blinked, not saying a word.

“And I know I say a lot of shit, but you’re actually smart and worthy of your job and you have so much left ahead of you. If I fail again, it’ll kill me but at least I’ll have had a semi-successful career. You? You’d be reduced to me, and me alone. So you’ll have to excuse me if I feel a little guilty about last night. You’ll have to fucking deal.”

A beat of silence passed before Rio responded.

“I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

Agatha cocked her head. “What?”

“You honestly think I’m capable. You think I’d be talent wasted.”

Wasted on Agatha.

“You’re focusing on the wrong point.”

“You think I don’t know all of that already? You think I’m really that fucking naïve?” Rio unclicked her seatbelt and moved to sit next to Agatha.

“Rio.” She said as an admonishment.

“I know. I know all of it.”

“So then what the fuck are we doing?”

Rio’s hand came up to her hair, something that was threatening to become habit-forming. “I don’t know.”

That’s not an answer.

“What do you know?”

Rio’s eyes softened. “I know that I want this.”

Yeah, Agatha did too.

But life wasn’t about wants, it was about survival. It was about having enough power to protect herself from ever being hurt again.

She clasped her hand over Rio’s and gently removed it from her hair, creating a phantom sensation she already longed to feel again.

“I can’t.”

“You can’t because it’s something just for you? Something good?”

“There’s nothing good here, Rio. There’s nothing good for you from me.”

She watched Agatha for a moment. “Did she do that to your arm?”

Agatha furrowed her brows. “That’s none of your business.”

“Is she why you’re so willing to sacrifice any ounce of happiness?”

Yes.

“No.”

“Agatha.” Rio murmured. “You’re allowed to put down the armor once and a while, nothing’s gonna happen.”

The car slowed, arriving at the front of the church.

Agatha bitterly smiled. “Maybe you’re more naïve than you think.”

She slid out of the car, standing a little straighter, projecting the illusion of confidence as someone opened the door for her. Press took photos as she climbed the steps, which she definitely felt in her thighs. The pastor was waiting at the wide open double doors, pious smile and big white robe.

“Madam vice president, it’s such an honor to have you join us today.” The pastor greeted, extending her hand.

Why was it always the traumatized party’s responsibility to forgive? Why was it never on the religion to maybe just leave the people they hurt alone?

Agatha shook her hand, smiling through her nerves. The church might’ve been progressive but it still threw her back to everything she buried. The stained glass windows, and the gothic revival architecture, the clergy she saw through the door.

“Thank you for having me.” She responded, though it felt like a stone was sitting in her throat, one she just couldn’t fucking swallow.

“We are all God’s children.” The pastor said with sincerity.

Agatha fucking wasn’t.

She dropped her hand. “You’ll have to grant me some grace if I don’t feel the same.”

Rio cleared her throat behind Agatha, a signal to correct herself.

“It’s okay.” The pastor caught on. “I understand. I’m not trying to change your mind with this service, ma’am. But I do hope you’re able to take something from today.”

“Well, let’s not keep the big guy waiting, right?” Agatha languidly laughed, participating in this farce.

Mass was, well it was mass. It was what she always hated. The pomp and circumstance, the show, the empty prayers. If there was a god, he was cruel and spiteful. It wasn’t even the camp that made her stop believing, it was the years following.

She had to keep prompting Rio on what to do and when, obviously the woman hadn’t been psychologically scarred by religion.

Lucky bitch.

Near the end of the service, the congregation sat in the pews listening to the pastor's closing remarks.

“Before we adjourn, I’d like to share a poem. It’s one I have kept coming back to and I think it appropriate to share with you all today.”

Fuck, this woman really was gay. Lesbians loved their boring ass poetry.

The pastor looked down at the podium and began reading.

“You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting. You only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves.”

Agatha’s breath caught as she listened, silently fisting her nails into her palm and digging.

“Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine. Meanwhile the world goes on.”

She felt a familiar hand take hers, removing the nails from her skin, threading their fingers together. Agatha looked at her, only briefly, catching the way Rio barely acknowledged what she had just done. They were in the front row, a heavy wooden barrier in front of them. She let Rio’s hand stay, nobody would be able to see.

Agatha focused her line of sight back up front, catching the last lines of the poem.

“Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air, are heading home again. Whoever you are, no matter how lonely, the world offers itself to your imagination, calls to you like wild geese, harsh and exciting- over and over announcing your place in the family of things.”

Once service had ended, Agatha stood, mumbling something about how she needed a minute. She walked down a hall off the nave, not really sure where she was going. The sound of her heels hitting the stone beneath her feet didn’t stop her from noting the soft sounds of someone following her. She opened the first door she saw and strode in. It was obviously some clergy members office, maybe another pastor, completely empty.

“Agatha?” Rio quietly asked, following her in and shutting the door.

“I’m fine.” Agatha said.

“Is it the church? The service?”

She shook her head.

“Is it me?”

“It’s all of it.” Agatha leaned on the desk in the middle of the space, bracing one hand on each side of herself. “I just didn’t think it’d be this hard.”

“I’m sorry if I pushed too far-”

“You didn’t.”

Agatha had one boundary that she wouldn’t cross, this wasn’t it.

“What’s hard?”

“That fucking poem for starters.” Agatha gestured. “Felt a little targeted.”

“Why?” Rio stepped forward until she was a few inches away.

“Because,” Agatha huffed. “That pastor obviously read it with me in mind. She thinks I’m some broken down, tragic, pathetic-”

“That’s not what I got from it.”

“Oh?” Agatha cocked her head. “And what did you and your bachelors degree from Smith get from that poem?”

Rio grinned. “You do not have to be good, you do not have to suffer to enjoy indulgence. You do not have to endure the torture to claim your prize. You only have to let yourself want those things. The world won’t stop spinning because you’re not in agony.”

And the way she said it, with such certainty, made Agatha want to believe it.

Rio’s hands came back to her hair. “Wild geese. Fuck it.”

“Fuck it? That’s your analysis?” Agatha’s voice dripped with sarcasm, disguising the comfort she felt from Rio’s fingers playing with her locks. “Maybe I was too hasty with my praise for your work…”

“I’d barely call it praise.”

“Then impress me.” Agatha tilted her head upwards, keeping eye contact.

“I thought you couldn’t.” Rio moved in.

“Wild geese?” She asked.

Fuck it?

“Wild geese.”

Fuck it.

She had almost closed the gap when Agatha stopped her, resting her hand on Rio’s sternum where her tie laid neatly against her button up. “One condition, though.”

Her campaign manager quirked an eyebrow in response.

“Same deal still applies. The second I’m president…this is done.”

There. This is how this ends. They’d get it out of their systems in the next coming months, and then a clean break. No one gets hurt, no one gets attached, no one loses anything.

Good god, she’s a fucking genius. The fact she was not yet leading this country was a fucking travesty. One that she would say is absolutely on par with 9/11.

“Just some torrid affair.” Agatha smirked. “Based on mutual attraction, no mutual destruction.”

Her answer was the same as it was in that hotel room back in Tennessee. “Okay, Agatha.”

With the outlines of this arrangement clearly defined, Agatha shot forward, hungrily kissing the other woman. As Rio kissed back, Agatha let her hand wind around her tie, tugging her closer. Hands fell from her hair to her thighs, hoisting her onto the desk and spreading her legs.

Oh, this poor pastor's office…

Oh well.

Agatha broke away, yanking Rio’s tie and forcing her to the ground. “Down, boy.”

Her knees hit the carpet, eyes trained for Agatha’s next command, head obediently looking up. Rio’s pupils nearly took up her whole iris, copper barely shining through.

Rio liked this.

She liked Agatha being the one in charge just as much as Agatha liked being the one to submit last night.

“Undo my pants.” Agatha said and released Rio’s tie.

Rio’s hands flew to the button of Agatha’s slacks before pulling them down her legs, waiting for the next command.

Agatha lifted her hips. “Underwear.”

Again, Rio complied but did nothing more. Not without Agatha’s say-so.

She leaned down, placing her thumb on Rio’s chin, her index finger underneath. “Now beg.”

Agatha didn’t miss the way Rio’s thighs tensed together, the way her airflow stuttered. “Please.”

“Please what, baby?”

“Please let me taste.”

Agatha faked outrage. “In a church of all places?”

Rio smiled. “Let me repent.”

“This is not how one repents.”

Rio gripped at her thighs, “I can’t think of a holier place to kneel.” And placed a kiss to the soft expanse of skin. “Or worship.”

She fisted her fingers in Rio’s hair, pulling at the root. “By all means, find salvation.”

She bit her lip to stifle the moan that wanted to rip itself from her throat at the first contact from Rio’s tongue. It was skilled and eager and so fucking good. But they couldn’t be caught right now, not here of all places. At a rally? At least that wouldn’t be considered heresy.

Rio let out a low, quiet whimper as her head bobbed between Agatha’s legs, like she was getting eaten out right now. Agatha’s fingers scrunched in reaction when Rio’s tongue flattened.

“Stay just like that, baby.” Agatha whispered and ground her hips. “Let me use you.”

And to no one’s surprise, but Agatha’s utter delight, Rio stayed just like that, allowing her to get herself off on her tongue. Agatha ground her hips faster, searching for the exact right amount of friction to make her come. That was until she felt Rio incoherently whine while her body shuddered, hands clawing at Agatha’s legs.

Did she just?

No…

Right?

Agatha slowed her movements and pulled Rio’s head away.

“Did you just come?”

Hazy brown eyes looked back at her. “Gonna crucify me?”

“I’m ready to burn you at the fucking stake.”

Rio grabbed one of her legs and slung it over her shoulder. “I’ll say three hail Marys later.”

She ducked down and returned her mouth to Agatha’s cunt, only this time, that very skilled mouth had a fucking vendetta. Rio’s tongue swiped through before her lips wrapped around her clit and gently sucked, tongue flicking in synchronized intervals with the suction.

“Fuck.” Agatha groaned, hand nearly ripping Rio’s hair out.

Her campaign manager didn’t seem to care or even mind the pain, just continued on with her one singular goal.

To make Agatha come in the middle of the pastor’s office on a Sunday right after mass.

Now this? This was healing her religious trauma.

Having a beautiful woman on her knees, giving her head in the most inappropriate of places. God had fucked Agatha so much throughout her life, it only felt right to fuck him back.

And in his own house nonetheless.

“Rio, baby-” Agatha’s back arched into her mouth as her stomach pooled with heat, the heel of her stiletto definitely digging into Rio’s back.

Rio just gave an affirmative grunt in response.

And that’s what did it, the vibration of her fucking voice finally tipped Agatha over the edge. Coming on Rio’s face with a very, very, very silent scream.

She kept going even after Agatha had come down, lapping anything she could. Agatha had to forcibly remove her mouth.

“Sensitive.” She panted, looking down at Rio’s shiny face.

The other woman stood and kissed her slowly, deeply.

“You taste like pussy.” Agatha commented when Rio finally backed off.

“Way fucking better than those communion wafers.”

Chapter Text

Debate prep was in full swing.

Normally when preparing a candidate, Rio would set up a mock debate and go over potential questions or concerns. She’d make sure they knew the answer to every dig, or snipe, or comment.

This time, things were…different.

Ever since Massachusetts, her and Agatha had been maybe a little too brazen. Because for the life of her, Rio was starting to lose track of how many states on the east coast she had now had sex in. In her defense, they were still doing the debate prep, they were just also doing private prep after the regular prep. Usually in whoever’s hotel room was out of sight of hallway security cameras and furthest away from the rest of the team.

It was Delaware when Rio questioned her on immigration.

“What’s your plan?” Rio asked, watching as Agatha rode the strap.

She answered as she continued to move. “Three R’s.”

Rio nodded, gaze transfixed on the way Agatha’s body moved, how she felt, how she looked. Rio had one hand groping her ass and the other palming her breast.

“Which are?”

Breathlessly, Agatha began reciting them as she sunk back down. “Reform, reaffirm, f-fuck.”

Rio smacked her ass as a warning. “Try again.”

“God!” She moaned. “Reform, reaffirm…”

Another slap administered. “Struggling to remember?”

Agatha’s legs shook and there was a thin sheen of sweat coating her skin, hair wild from being at this all night. “Reform, reaffirm, Rio- shit!”

“Not the last R but I like hearing my name all broken like that.” She smirked before spanking her boss yet again.

“Keep doing that and I’m gonna come.” Agatha huffed.

“Not until you tell me the third R.”

Agatha rolled her eyes and sped up before reaching a hand out to Rio’s neck, squeezing just the way she knew Rio liked. “Reform, we need a coherent bill that protects children of immigrants and allows for easier pathways to citizenship for people here illegally.”

Rio fought to keep her eyes open as Agatha’s hand tightened. It wasn’t even the pressure that was making her lids heavy, it was the way Agatha took charge on a fucking dime.

Her hips snapped faster. “Reaffirm, more tax breaks and social security nets for immigrants living and working in this country, especially business owners.”

“Yeah-” Rio squeaked.

“Renew.” Agatha’s head lolled back, fighting falling off the edge until she got the rest of her words out. “Better, fuck. Better-” She let out a deep breath. “You get the jist, make me come.”

Rio hastily nodded before rolling them over.

It was Pennsylvania when they went over the economy.

“Mr. Stark’s economic plan has been proven to-” Agatha spoke evenly against Rio’s neck, hand between her thighs.

“By nobel-winning economists.” Rio added, hands clawing at Agatha’s back as she clenched around two very long, very boney fingers. Fuck, even her hands were hot.

“Proven, by nobel- winning economists, to send us into a recession if not an economic depression.” Agatha said in between little nips at Rio’s throat, fingers curling.

Rio arched off the bed. “Fuck!”

She’s pretty sure it was New Jersey when she tried to get Agatha to review abortion but she couldn’t get the woman’s mouth off her cunt.

“Baby,” Rio pleaded. “Gotta go over-”

Agatha’s mouth barely left her. “Wouldn’t you rather ride my face?”

And Rio’s only human.

She nodded as Agatha flipped them on the mattress, Rio now hovering over Agatha’s face. She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t fantasized about riding Agatha’s nose until she was on the verge of passing out, that was her American dream.

But unlike their first time, there were no sleepovers. There was no post sex cuddling. They got dressed and left.

Rio wouldn’t say she hated that part, just simply despised it with every fiber of her being. She liked holding Agatha, playing with her hair, running her fingers down her back and feeling the goosebumps erupt as a result. She craved it each and every time they were done fucking. But they had an agreement-

Just sex.

That’s what Agatha wanted, so that’s what Rio would do.

She’d known the woman for almost three months at this point and already she’d take whatever she could get.

Which brought them to today. They were in New York for a few reasons. One being Rio had her interview with The New York Times. Two, Agatha had a rally then an appearance. Three, New Yorkers fucking loved Lilia, felt a certain kinship with the woman apparently. She made the governor fly out here to meet them since they’d all have to go back to DC for a few days after this anyway.

“When you win, could you get us tickets to The Eras tour?” William eagerly asked as they all worked on the bus.

Agatha didn’t look up from her binder, glasses perched on the end of her nose. “Oh, sure!”

Rio needed the glasses to stay on one of these days.

Not the time to be thinking about that, she internally scolded herself, continuing her typing on her laptop in her seat next to the veep.

“Really?!” William squawked, leaning over the table that separated them.

Agatha looked up. “No.”

“Do you even know what The Eras tour is?” Wanda chuckled from where she sat next to William.

That annoying, fucking grating voice from that annoying, grating ass woman.

Rio had stayed professional with Wanda, mostly because violently and brutally killing her would be frowned upon.

The vice president looked at Wanda. “I know what an unemployment form is.”

Wanda smiled. “And I know what a wrongful termination suit is.”

Cunt.

“Did you guys see this?” Alice shouted from the front of the bus, turning up the volume on the tiny TV mounted in the corner.

Everyone turned their attention to the screen.

“I think it’s absolutely heinous that Ms. Harkness would tell such slanderous lies about her own mother.” Tony Stark’s wife, Pepper, proclaimed to a group of reporters. “Evanora is the perfect role model of what women today should aspire to be when it comes to child rearing-”

Agatha chucked a granola bar at the screen. “Shut the fuck up, your name is Pepper!”

“Could this hurt us?” Jen cocked her head and looked at Rio.

“Eh, mothers are a tough voting block.” Rio said. “Most of them are sane and want better for their children. But then you have the crunchy moms like Pepper who think red dye 40 and vaccines cause autism.”

“Which is so fucking insane, how are those people allowed to be parents!” Agatha shouted, ripping off her glasses. “How are those people allowed to vote!”

“Listen, it’s actually good.” Rio reassured. “If Stark’s parading around his sad beige wife, it means he’s scared. He can’t speak on motherhood so he’s making his wife fight his battles for him.”

“Fucking aryian poster child looking motherfucking cunt…” Agatha whispered under her breath. “Probably why he likes her, gets off on it.”

Rio placed her hand on Agatha’s thigh underneath the table. “We’ll respond at your rally today, double down on your mother.”

And it would be fucking glorious.

Rio wanted to corner that bitch and choke her out until there was no sign of life left. But again, that’s frowned upon.

“No.” Agatha shook her head. “No more talking about her. I did it once, that’s enough.”

Rio furrowed her brows. “Does this have something to do with Boston?”

The veep looked back down at her work, sliding her glasses onto her face. “No.”

Lie.

When would Agatha understand that Rio could see her?

That Rio knew her well enough, watched her well enough, read between the lines well enough, that lying wouldn’t work.

“It’s easy sympathy. Plus, it’ll reinforce that Stark has an abuser in his future cabinet.”

“Never said there was abuse.” Agatha hissed, very aware of the other people around them.

Right, Rio wasn’t supposed to know about the bruises Evanora had left, the ones that had now faded.

“The camp was abuse enough.” Rio replied.

“I think it’s really cool, actually, that you-” William began.

“Quiet.” Agatha ordered.

“Just think about it.” She gave Agatha’s thigh a gentle squeeze.

Agatha crossed her legs, effectively pulling away from Rio’s touch. “Already did. And no.”

“Why are you always so fucking stubborn?”

“Why are you?!”

“Because I’m trying to help you!”

“Find another way then because you’re not helping, you’re pissing me off!”

The screaming had not been remedied since they’d been sleeping together, Rio thought it might, but it seemed to be their love language.

“I’m pissing you off because you know I’m right and you can’t fucking stand not being the smartest in the room!”

“Just fuck about it already.” Wanda muttered.

Did Wanda technically know?

No.

But she definitely had suspicions.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, WANDA.” Rio and Agatha both screamed in unison.

But now that she brought it up….Rio wouldn’t say no…

“We’ll discuss this later.” Agatha ground out, jaw clenched.

And apparently Agatha felt the same, because that was code for meeting her in her hotel room tonight.

“Looking forward to it, madam vice president.”

Twenty minutes later, Rio and Alice were waiting in a big skyscraper while everyone else went to the rally. Rio insisted she could go alone but Jen thought it best to have at least one other staffer there. Plus, she liked Alice. The deputy comms director was cool, and sane, and way more level-headed than anyone else on the fucking team.

“I don’t have to media train you on the fly, do I?” Alice asked.

Rio chuckled. “I’ve been interviewed for publications before, I think I’ll be okay.”

“Yeah but that was for governors or senators, journalists are way more vicious about a presidential race. Especially one that involves a sitting vice president.”

“I’m a big girl, I got it.”

And fuck, was she right. The guy they assigned to interview her was basically an infant. Some fidgety twenty-something named Peter Parker, the boy was obviously out of his depth. His voice cracked and wavered, he was holding onto the questions like a lifeline. Rio just simply sat and waited for him to slowly get his shit together over the course of the interview.

It never really happened, not even near the end.

“And, uh, what- what’s it like being one of the youngest presidential campaign managers in recent history?” He blinked furiously.

“Washington could use more young blood.” Rio quipped. “My age gives me an advantage, the vice president knows that, it’s part of why this campaign works.”

“And what made you take on this campaign? It’s different from your past work. You usually pick the candidates that are harder to move.”

If only they fucking knew how hard it was to move Agatha.

“I wanted to work with Agatha Harkness.” Rio easily responds. “She’s the best and I wanted to see what it was like working with someone of that caliber. She’s resilient, and incredibly intelligent, and she genuinely wants to help Americans. I think that’s all you can ask for in a candidate.”

“You keep saying that you work with her. Not for her. Would you then say that you two are equals? Does she see you as a confidant?”

Huh, suddenly this kid seemed a lot less nervous.

“I advise the vice president, but at the end of the day, she’s still the one calling the shots.”

A good non-answer answer.

“Did you advise her to speak on her experience with her mother, senator Evanora Harkness?”

This fucking guy.

He was trying to get more info on the bullshit between Agatha and her mother, this interview was a cover.

But she couldn’t confront him, that’s not how these things work.

“The vice president made that decision on her own.” Rio lied. “Although I don’t see how that pertains to this interview.”

Peter grinned. “And what are your thoughts on the senator?”

“Evanora?” Rio blew out a breath.

She glanced over to Alice, the comms director just vigorously shook her head.

Agatha had made it clear that she did not want to speak about her mother, but that didn’t mean Rio couldn’t. She wouldn’t expose anything, or air out Agatha’s trauma, but she also was not going to let Evanora go unscathed.

“I think Evanora Harkness has proven that the people of Massachusetts deserve better from their elected officials. She does not serve them with their interests in mind, but her own.” Rio spoke calmly.

It was peanuts, crumbs really, she wasn’t going to give this wanna-be vulture something he could take a run with.

“Anything else?” He hopefully responded.

Rio smiled. “I guess I’ll give her props for raising the next president of the United States.”

“That confident, huh?”

“We have no reason not to be.”

After the interview, as Rio walked out of the building, Alice fell in step with her. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

Rio kept walking. “What? The stuff about that fucking harpy?”

“Agatha’s gonna fucking kill you.”

“Agatha said she wouldn’t say anything. Didn’t mention anything about me.”

“It’s implied!”

“Implications have no place in politics!”

“She might fire you when that article comes out.”

“I doubt it.”

“Rio.” Alice tugged on her arm to stop. “I’m serious.”

“I am too. I didn’t say anything as fact, only my opinion. I didn’t even bring up what she did to Agatha despite me wanting to find a fucking megaphone to publicly shame the bitch. I didn’t let that journalist have any more than what was already being said by anyone with more than two brain cells to rub together.”

Alice shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. I’ve worked for Agatha a long time, Evanora is like Voldemort for her. Pride was a big step for her. You’re gonna push her too far and she’s gonna snap.”

“Yeah, and I want to know why. I want to know what her mother said to her at HQ in Boston. I want to know what makes the woman so scary that even Agatha, who is arguably the scariest woman I’ve ever met, cower in fucking fear.” Rio whipped back around. “Nothing I said is in violation of my NDA, if Agatha has a problem with it, she can scream at me later.”

Maybe if Agatha snapped, Rio would finally have all the puzzle pieces. She could lock them each into place and get the full picture of what Agatha was so afraid of. What secrets she clutched like a kid with their favorite stuffy. Maybe if Agatha snapped, Rio could help her, make a plan, and stave off Evanora.

Rio had been patient, she’d made progress with Agatha. But just because they were fucking, didn’t mean she didn’t also have a job to do. And she couldn’t fucking do this goddamn job without the much needed context.

“I feel like I should give her a heads up.” Alice said, catching up to her.

“Do what you need to do.” Rio shrugged.

“I just think Jen’s gonna be mad if I don’t.”

“You do everything your girlfriend tells you to?”

“You do everything Agatha tells you to and you guys aren’t even fucking.”

Rio swallowed. “She’s my boss.”

Alice smiled. “And Jen’s mine.”

“Gross.” Rio muttered. “Just wait for the article to come out, I gave him so little, he might not even put it in print.”

Alice sighed. “Fine, but if shit goes down, I’m saving my own ass first.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

A few days passed and nothing more was said on the topic. Rio didn’t tell Agatha, neither did Alice. The rest of New York went to plan, and that was the focus, not Rio, not Evanora. They flew to DC for some bullshit event that Agatha had to be seen at, the morning they landed, the article dropped.

Rio didn’t even have to read it to know the Evanora quote was included, as soon as they were back in the Eisenhower building, Agatha grabbed her arm and yanked her into her office, the door slamming behind them.

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” Agatha held up her phone with the article. “I said-”

“I know what you said.” Rio said. “And I respected your wishes, I didn’t say anything that wasn’t already public knowledge. I didn’t slander her. I didn’t-”

“It doesn’t fucking matter!” She chucked her phone onto the couch. “You don’t comment on shit that you know nothing about!”

“Then tell me what I need to know!”

“Do you know what you’ve done? The kind of vendetta this’ll give my mother? The fucking nuke that you just gave her to launch at me?”

“No, please fucking tell me!” Rio shouted in earnest, pleading for an explanation. “You give me nothing and expect me to spin gold from your bullshit, Agatha!”

“Just because we’re-” Agatha lowered her voice. “Fucking. Does not entitle you to say and do whatever you want.”

“I’m not doing whatever I want, I’m trying to figure out why your mother puts the fear of god in you when you’re the fucking vice president!”

“She does not put the fear of god in me.”

Rio scoffed. “I watch you, Agatha. Just as closely as you watch everyone else. What did she say to you in Boston? Why do you keep protecting her?”

“I'm not protecting her.” Agatha spat. “I’m protecting myself.”

Just as Rio suspected, Evanora had dirt on Agatha, something that the veep was afraid she couldn’t come back from.

“What does she have on you?”

“Just keep your mouth shut, and it won’t be an issue.” Agatha steeled her jaw.

“No.” She said, simple and clear.

“No?” Agatha’s eyes bugged. “You work for me, you represent my campaign, you represent me. If I tell you to be quiet, you be fucking quiet.”

Rio would ignore that because she knew that Agatha’s bark was much worse than her bite. “Tell me what she has on you.”

“Rio.”

“Tell me.”

Agatha momentarily closed her eyes, gathering strength. “She knows about my gap year.”

This fucking gap year.

Rio stayed calm. “What about it?”

“She knows where I was, what I was doing.”

“Which is?”

“Not what I told you back when you asked.”

Yeah no shit.

“I need details, Agatha.”

Agatha walked over to the door, hand on the knob. “And I need to work, as do you, so…” She opened the door.

Not so subtle way of ending the conversation.

Rio blinked. “We’ll discuss this later.”

But it wasn’t code, it was a demand.

“Unless I’m lucky and get assassinated first.”

Rio didn't laugh or chuckle, just took her leave back into the bullpen.

It was literally only a few hours later when her phone buzzed, an old friend from college who worked in the Stark camp. She forwarded Rio a link of a press release ready to leak. Of course it had no connection to Stark, making it look like it came from an anonymous source, but it had Evanora all over it. Her eyes skimmed the text before she got up from her desk and stormed into Agatha’s office.

“Do I have to wear a dress to this shit?” Agatha whined, sitting at her desk as Jen stood next to her.

“You’ll look great.” Jen placated. “There are worse things-”

“You better start fucking talking!” Rio proclaimed, not breaking her stride.

Agatha looked at her. “What now?”

Rio’s body was literally vibrating with rage as she slammed her phone down on Agatha’s desk. Not because she was upset about what the release contained, but because if she had known about this, she could’ve gotten ahead of it.

This is precisely why she asks her candidates where the bodies are buried, so she can unearth them before a reporter or opponent can.

“This goes out tomorrow according to my contact at Stark’s camp, lucky for you, she has some morals.” Rio spit out.

“Not useful if you’re trying to make it in politics, but…” Agatha muttered before picking up the phone and reading. “Jen, could you give us a minute?”

Jen looked between them, “Fine, fuck me I guess.” Exiting with a soft click of a closing door.

Agatha’s jaw dropped as she absorbed the words on the screen. “Fuck-”

Rio slammed her hands down on the desk. “Why does that say you were in a mental institution, Agatha?”

She threw the phone down, head falling into her hands.

Rio let out a long exhale. “Start talking.”

Chapter Text

Agatha let her hand drop into her lap, looking up at where Rio stood on the other side of the desk.

“Okay, it sounds worse than it is.” Agatha tried to dismiss.

“Enlighten me then.” Rio impatiently waited.

“It was back in college, I had this friend who I was kind of competitive with.” Agatha took a shaky breath. “She was always stealing the people I liked, and one day she stole my fiancée and they got married. I just snapped. I gained a lot of weight and adopted like ten cats until I got evicted from my apartment. I was so obsessed with revenge on my friend that they institutionalized me-”

Rio clenched her fists. “Are you reciting the fucking plot of Death Becomes Her to me right now?”

Agatha pursed her lips. “I thought that was a little before your time…”

“It came out three years after I was born.”

She shrugged. “She stole my life, she made me cuckoo-” Agatha sing-songed.

“Agatha!”

“Are you not familiar with the musical?”

“Okay,” Rio huffed.

“You simply must see it. Sensational, really.”

“Are you done fucking around? Can you tell me the truth?”

“Fine.” Agatha leaned forward. “Before I do though, do you know the plot of Girl Interrupted?”

“That's it!” Rio combed a frustrated hand through her own hair, one hand on her hip. “I’m done. I’m done! I can’t help you if you refuse to be honest with me for even a second.”

Rio turned on her heel to leave.

Fuck, Agatha couldn’t let her go. Then she’d be double-fucked with a scandal about to break and no campaign manager.

More than that though, Agatha didn’t want to let Rio go.

“Wait.” Agatha called out.

Rio stopped and turned back to look at her.

“Fine. Fine.” She said as her heart rate spiked. “It really was in college.”

“Okay…” Rio spoke skeptically.

Agatha licked her bottom lip, something to buy her even a millisecond more time.

“It was my senior year, I was still fucked up from the camp…” Agatha idly used her thumb to fidget with a ring she had on her index finger. “I was still sleeping with guys, which was fucking disgusting, but-”

“The camp.” Rio quietly supplied.

“Yeah.” She gently nodded. “The school year was almost over, I found out I was pregnant. Fucker must’ve known the condom broke and didn’t say anything.”

Rio’s eyes widened, staring intently. Staring with so much fucking tenderness.

Agatha sharply inhaled as her eyes got glassy. “Maybe it was all the catholicism but I couldn’t bring myself to get an abortion, and the more I thought about it, the more I wanted it. The kid.”

Rio crossed the room, rounding the desk.

“I only told Jen. We graduated before I started showing so it was easy enough to hide from my mother. I figured I could be a single mom, I had an inheritance to fall back on. Could always go to law school part-time, get some cushy job at a nice firm, give my kid the childhood I never had.”

She tried to blink back the tears burning her eyes, but they were coming quicker than she could manage.

“Agatha…” Rio softly spoke, already filling in the gaps.

She didn’t look at Rio but rather at her own hands as she continued. “He was stillborn.” Her lip trembled. “Uh, Jen was in the delivery room with me. I just remember it being so fucking quiet.”

That memory was violently carved into her brain. The way nobody said anything. How there weren’t any newborn cries. Just the crushing absence of any sound. Like someone shoved her head underwater, just a void where her son should’ve been.

That was the day her faith didn’t just shake, but was torn away from her like flesh off her bones. If god was real, he took her son. If he wasn’t real, then what was all of it for?

She felt Rio take one of her shaky hands, gently running her thumb across Agatha’s knuckles.

Agatha sniffled, bringing her free hand to wipe the tears streaming down her face. “I, um- I,” She blew out a breath. “I wasn’t okay for a while afterwards.”

Maybe she was sugarcoating it. How there was more than one occasion where Jen had to peel her off the bathroom floor, or force her to get showered or dressed. How at twenty-three, Agatha was ready to let herself wither away. She never attempted anything, content to rot long enough that her body would give into the lack of sleep or the starvation. It made sense at the time, to want to be with her son. There was nothing left for her without him.

Maybe she was lying by omission, but it was better than admitting that she had wanted to die. That she had neglected herself so completely, Jen dragged her to a fucking mental hospital.

“I thought I had the records taken care of when I first ran for office.” Agatha finally looked at Rio. “My mother only knew because she was my emergency contact and they had to tell her where I was during the intake process. She thought it was a nervous breakdown. I didn’t tell her about him, I didn’t tell her it was postpartum bullshit whatever the fuck.”

She had been so careful up until then, she’d paid for her delivery out of pocket so it wouldn’t show up on her mother’s health insurance. But she was just so tired, so devoid of thought or care that she just let them call her mother.

“I was only there for a month.” Agatha croaked. “It was fucking 1996 so it’s not like the care was super top-notch. I did actually go to France once I got out, needed to run away, somewhere far. Jen came with, she said-” She grimly chuckled. “She said it was because she just wanted a free trip to Europe, but uh, we both knew she was only there so I didn’t fling myself off the Eiffel Tower or do some other stupid shit.”

Rio’s gaze held so much sympathy, like she was genuinely trying to understand. And Agatha searched for it, but she couldn’t find any judgement in those amber irises she’d memorized by now.

Agatha grinned, but it held no joy. “To which I informed her, committing suicide in France would actually be very chic of me. By the time we got back to the states, I wanted it to be over. I applied to Georgetown, got my degree, and never looked back. Figured, if I had to stay alive, might as well do something worthwhile.”

“What was his name?” Rio’s voice was delicate, like she was afraid Agatha would spook.

“Who’s?” She scrunched her face, her skin felt tight from the salt of her tears.

“Your son.”

Nobody ever asked that. Even at the treatment center. They focused on Agatha because she was the patient, they didn’t ask about her son beyond how he died. Like he was a problem rather than a person.

Then Agatha smiled, a small but genuine one. “Nicholas. But I always liked Nicky for short.”

Rio smiled too. “I like Nicky.”

“I know I should’ve told you, but, I knew you’d want me to use it for sympathy or as a part of my platform or-”

That was where Agatha drew the line in the sand. That was her boundary. She’d done a lot of shameless shit in her career, but her son was a non-negotiable.

“I’d never ask you to exploit the loss of your son.” Rio interrupted. “Who he was and what he meant to you is nobody’s business but your own.”

“Apparently not,” Agatha motioned towards Rio’s phone with the press release. “Soon it’ll be front page news.”

“They don’t know why you were there.” Rio told her. “If you took care of the records, maybe it’s all just hearsay. They might not have a smoking gun.”

“Doesn’t matter, either way it plays into the hysterical woman narrative.”

“We can spin this.” Rio assured. “We can turn the narrative around.”

“Rio, nobody wants to elect a manic-depressive basket case to the most powerful office in the world.”

“Okay, you’re none of those things.” Rio brought her hand to Agatha’s cheek, wiping away a stray tear. “We can still get ahead of this, I promise.”

She wanted to believe her, she did. But the only way Agatha might get out of this would be to tell the truth. And if it was her son or the presidency, Agatha would fade into obscurity in a heartbeat.

“You call me insane all the time.” Agatha pointed out.

“Well, you are…” Rio smiled, causing Agatha to chuckle. “But you’re not broken or any less capable.”

Really? Because Agatha felt pretty broken, felt shattered into a million microscopic shards, the type that cut your hand open when you tried to clean up the pieces.

“I’ll handle this.” Rio said with no room for argument. “Why don’t you go home for the day, I’ll deal with it.”

“I can’t-” Agatha began.

“Baby,” Rio’s tone was firm. “Go home.”

It felt suspiciously like pity, but Agatha agreed anyway. She knew she wouldn’t be able to keep it together for the rest of the day. At least there was a bright side to being ornamental as veep, nobody cared if she took a half day to go home and wallow.

The downside, she realized as she got home, was that nobody cared, period.

Jen was an option, but she’d done enough over the decades, Agatha couldn’t lean on her every time she felt sad. And that’s all this was, just a little sadness, she’d bounce back, she always did.

But then she walked into the foyer of the house that she fucking hated, and something changed. She looked around at the place, the décor, the floral wallpaper that she often wanted to rip off with her own bare hands. The entire home was Queen Anne style, ornate and colonial. She didn’t pick anything in this house, who fucking did, Agatha didn’t ask.

It was where every VP lived, so it’s where she lived. It was big and expensive, and so fucking lonely.

She was always alone.

Agatha never minded before, but now-

Now it felt like an emotional bitch-slap.

And she’s saying that as someone who has been physically bitch-slapped.

Being home didn’t fucking help, just made her painfully aware of everything she’s always avoided, it made her sit with everything.

She kicked off her heels, taking her stack of folders, binders, and proposals with her to her home office along with a bottle of scotch. Agatha sat for hours, working as the sun set, as the already quiet house became hauntingly silent. No random settling noises, no odd creak of a floorboard. Just the scribble of her pen underneath the one lamp she had turned on, darkness swallowing the rest of the office, the rest of the home.

There was a knock at the front door and Agatha’s ears perked up. She had secret service outside at all times, people couldn’t just drop by unannounced under threat of being shot on sight.

The knock came again and Agatha finally rose from her desk, walking through the cavernous halls of the house, turning on a light here and there as she moved.

She reached the front door, pulling it open.

“Did you know that it is a universally acknowledged truth that a lady cannot have an impressive or demanding job and have a healthy personal life at the same time?” Rio immediately said, hands behind her back.

Agatha stood in the doorway, jaw open in confusion.

Rio moved her hands, holding a pizza in front of her. “Hungry?”

“How the hell did you get past-”

“I know every one of your agents by name, I don’t think they’re concerned that I’m a threat to your life.”

“That pizza could be poisoned, you’re breaking like ten thousand different national security protocols right now.” Agatha commented.

“Not like we haven’t broken any rules before.”

Agatha moved aside. “I suppose you can come in.”

Rio gave a mock salute. “Aye, aye, ma’am.”

She snorted, laughing under breath and closing the door behind her campaign manager.

They sat in the only non-formal living room in the whole house, talking about nothing, about everything but what Agatha had told Rio today. Everything but what would happen tomorrow as that press release leaked.

They each had a beer in hand, laughing.

“That short?” Rio giggled over the rim of her bottle.

“Swear to fucking god. I mean, I’m like 5’9” in heels, but I could easily punt that man.”

“I knew he was wearing lifts in those ugly fucking shoes.”

“And so obviously gay.” Agatha chuckled. “I only met him once, but that man…”

“Well of course Putin’s gay, have you seen how many pictures he takes on horses with his shirt off?”

Agatha threw her head back and cackled. “And you just know he has a standing full body wax appointment at all times.”

“Gotta be as smooth as the nukes you swing around.” Rio retorted.

She smiled as she got up from the couch, grabbing their plates and heading to the kitchen to put them in the sink. Rio followed behind, taking off her blazer and throwing it on a chair before rolling the sleeves of her button up.

“I think I know the angle.” Rio spoke, coming behind Agatha at the sink. “If Stark and your mother have proof, that is.”

Agatha’s body went rigid, it was foolish, but she hoped the situation would just go away and Rio would drop it.

She didn’t turn, singularly focused on rinsing the already rinsed plate. “Oh?”

“I can’t stop it from coming out, but we can say that you went for PTSD from the camp. Everything gets thrown back at Evanora, you look like a saint.”

“I am most certainly anything but.” She muttered, finally turning off the tap, resting her hands on the edge of the sink.

“Is that really how you see yourself?” Rio’s voice came closer.

Agatha’s head dropped. “I try not to think about myself too much.”

Not in any meaningful way at least, not in any self-reflective or contemplative way.

She felt Rio’s fingers gently playing at the ends of her hair, and her whole body relaxed, calmed, releasing the tension she wasn’t even aware she had been carrying.

She didn’t make the conscious choice, but she heard herself moan softly at the contact.

“I think about you a lot.” Rio told her, fingers idly twirling.

This felt like more than just sex.

Agatha slowly turned around, meeting Rio’s gaze. It hadn’t changed from before. She still looked at Agatha the same way she always had.

And without thinking Agatha‘s hands shot out to cradle her face, suddenly needing the touch.

Rio’s hands settled on her wrists, thumb softly running over her pulse point.

She didn’t say anything because nothing felt adequate, instead she closed the gap and brought her arms around the younger woman. One hand on the back of her head, the other on her back, tucking her face against Rio’s shoulder.

Rio embraced her back without question, simply holding her.

And she knew that they’d had sex more times than she could count, but somehow this felt more intimate, more vulnerable.

“Where’s your bedroom?” Rio pulled away only enough to see Agatha’s face.

“Baby, I’m not really in the mood given recent events.”

“It’s not for sex.”

She furrowed her brows. “For what then?”

“Just lead the way.”

So Agatha did, lacing her hand with Rio’s and pulling her along as they made their way up the stairs, down a series of halls, and to her room.

As soon as they were in, Rio found the door to the adjoining bathroom. Agatha stood and watched as Rio found the bathtub and started running the water, checking the temperature. She turned back to Agatha.

“Strip.”

“Rio, I told you-”

“We’re not.” Rio came over to her and started undoing the buttons on Agatha’s shirt. “Naked doesn’t always mean fucking, sometimes it can just be a comfort.”

Not in Agatha’s fifty-one years of life.

She didn’t do comfort, nobody had really offered her that. Not like this. People didn’t expect it from her, and she never sought it out.

“Some might even call it intimacy.” Rio grinned, working the tails of the shirt out of Agatha’s slacks.

No, no she hated all that bullshit. The intimacy, the softness, that’s why she stuck to just sex. That’s why this was just sex.

Or why it was supposed to be just sex.

But she didn’t protest, didn’t stop Rio.

She let Rio help her get out of her clothes, let Rio help her into the tub, and let Rio climb into the tub behind her.

“C’mere.” Rio pulled her so her back was flush with Rio’s chest.

And something about the soft caresses of Rio’s touch made Agatha feel strangely at ease.

Like she’d never been handled with so much care.

It was when Rio’s arms encircled her waist and tender kisses were placed along her neck that Agatha broke, eyes wetting for the second time that day.

The bath was too fucking hot and she was losing her mind, there was no other explanation. It couldn’t be Rio, or the fact that she had a point about the whole comfort thing.

She bit her lip to stifle the cry but it was of no use, Rio clocked it the second it happened.

“Baby, it’s okay.” She whispered, placing another kiss to her shoulder.

God, she was so fucking tired, she was always so fucking tired. And this, right now, felt like the first time she was allowed to catch her breath in who knows how long. Decades, probably.

Agatha didn’t know why she was crying.

Her mother.

Her son.

The race.

The camp.

Didn’t really matter, all of it was coming out either way through the sobs now escaping her throat.

Rio held her a little closer as Agatha’s body softly shuddered. “It’s okay.”

And Agatha knew she wasn’t trying to say that everything would be okay, or that everything was okay, but that it was okay that Agatha needed this moment.

Rio knew she needed this before she knew she needed this.

She turned fractionally to rest her head in the crook of Rio’s neck, her cries now muffled against the skin of her throat. Rio’s lips moved to her forehead, her temple, all the while whispering affirmations that Agatha didn’t think she was worthy of hearing.

One of Rio's hands left her waist, threading through her half-wet hair. “I’m here, Agatha.”

God help her, but hearing that made her feel better.

She pried her eyes open, now swollen, and looked up at her. “Can you say that again?” Agatha croaked out.

She sounded pathetic.

She sounded desperate.

And yet, without missing a beat-

“Baby,” Rio met her line of sight. “I’m right here.”

Chapter Text

Rio might’ve woken up, but she didn’t fucking sleep.

After the bath last night, Rio helped Agatha into some pajamas and into bed. They didn’t even really speak, just a silent agreement as Rio slid in next to her, pulling her onto her chest, hair still damp.

She heard Agatha’s breathing slow, felt her head get heavier against her sternum. But Rio laid awake, eyes focused on the ceiling.

There was something more in what was left unsaid.

She didn’t even make the conscious choice to come over and see Agatha, it was just a knee-jerk reaction. Like there was no other option. And though Agatha would never admit it, she needed last night

Agatha needed to feel cared for, even if as Rio rolled over this morning, the other side of the bed was empty. The spot next to her cold and bedding disheveled.

Rio wasn’t surprised, one night wouldn’t change who Agatha was or how she operated. How she had to operate for the last three decades. What she had to compartmentalize in order to just survive.

Of all the things Rio suspected, a secret child who died before he even lived was not at the top of her list. Although it didn’t mean her heart didn’t break just the same. The library made sense now, as did the way Agatha’s eyes looked a little vacant anytime a kid spoke to her, or worse, a baby was thrust in her arms.

Now that she knew, Rio wondered how she had been so fucking blind.

She was snapped out of her reverie at her phone buzzing on the nightstand, another google alert, an article from The Hill. One that was quickly circulated to CNN, The Washington Post, The New York Times, and Fox News.

Shit.

The Stark camp kept their word, dropping Agatha’s personal medical history as though they were entitled to do so. As though something that happened almost thirty years ago was still relevant to who Agatha was today.

She steeled her jaw reading the article.

Standard boilerplate hit piece.

The word ‘sources’ rather than Evanora being used.

Speculations and undermining comments.

However, it seemed to all be hearsay. No proof other than an ‘insider close to the veep’ and the name of the facility, which had closed down years ago.

“Did it come out?” Agatha’s voice carried as she walked through the door into the bedroom.

Rio’s gaze shot up from her phone.

Agatha was in sneakers, a tank top, and yoga pants. Her hair was tied up and she was sweating.

She almost felt guilty for finding Agatha this fucking attractive post-workout. Rio wanted to lick the little droplet of sweat currently making its way down Agatha’s sternum.

Rio looked at the time. “It’s six in the morning, how long have you been up?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Agatha huffed.

Lie.

“I usually run every morning, campaign trail fucked up my routine.” She said, slightly breathless. “Thought I’d get one more in before the press swarms this place.”

Fuck, they had maybe an hour before every news outlet stood outside the perimeter of the home. Rio got up, she was still in underwear and one of Agatha’s old dark green Georgetown sweaters. “It leaked, but there’s no evidence.”

“No evidence…yet.” Agatha nodded. “Well, at least I was able to beat my secret service today.”

“What?”

“Oh, I try to run so fast they lose track of me.” She offhandedly explained. “I got like a 70% success rate.”

Rio smiled. “You try to outrun the people trained to protect your life?”

“How the fuck else am I supposed to make running fun?” Agatha smiled back. “Keeps them on their toes.”

“Okay, well.” Rio fidgeted with her phone. “I should probably go.”

She damn well knew Agatha wasn’t going to sit down and talk about last night or what it meant. She also knew better than to bring it up right now.

Rio started looking for her pants before halting. “Um, just one thing.”

Agatha pursed her lips. “Hm?”

“I need the date and hospital Nicky was born at.” Rio spoke. “Just to make sure those records are taken care of too.”

Agatha nodded again, posture deflating. “Uh yeah. It was McLean hospital. November 11th, 1995.”

“And,” Rio felt like a fucking dick for asking, but “Does he know?”

“Who?”

“The guy.” She motioned her hand like she was trying to find the right word. “The fucker who didn’t tell you the condom broke.”

“Nope.”

“Really, you didn’t tell him?” Rio asked, not out of judgement but surprise.

“He didn’t tell me about the condom.” Agatha shrugged. “He’s married now to some perfect blonde woman. Lives in Arizona with his four perfect children. I doubt he even remembers me…”

“Kinda hard to forget you had a one night stand with the vice president.”

“Is that a come on?”

Rio grabbed her pants off the floor. “We’ve done a lot more than one night.”

Agatha watched as she buttoned her slacks before starting to pull off the sweater. “Keep it.”

Rio stopped. “What?”

“Sun’s barely out. It's not even fifty degrees yet. You only have your blazer, just keep the sweater, I have like six more.”

And a normal person wouldn’t think twice about that, just agree and move on.

But she could read between the lines, and keeping a sweater in Agatha speak went deeper. It was a show of something she couldn’t verbalize.

“Okay, thanks.” Rio kept the sweater on and found her button up. “Meet at the office?”

“Yeah.” Agatha agreed.

Rio nodded, not really sure how to end this interaction.

For the first time in their relationship, she felt like they were in uncharted territory.

“Okay.” Rio repeated, devoid of something better to say. She started for the door, shirt in hand when Agatha’s hand shot out, grabbing her bicep and stopping her.

“Thanks.” Was all she said, so quiet that Rio almost questioned even hearing it.

She locked onto blue eyes. “Anytime.”

Agatha let go and Rio left the room, making her way downstairs and out the back door. Fuck Agatha was right, it was cold, and dark. How the fuck did she run in this weather? How the fuck did she outrun military grade agents?

“I recognize that sweater.” A voice materialized out of thin air.

“Jesus!” Rio flinched mid-step, recognizing the voice and the woman immediately. “Kate.”

The secret service agent, who’d obviously just accompanied Agatha on her run, grinned. “Just now leaving?”

Rio raised her brows. “What are you implying?”

The twenty-something year old looked so fucking smug. “Nothing. Just…it’s kinda my job to pay attention to the veep’s whereabouts. And miraculously, wherever she is, there you are.”

“I work for her.”

“In her hotel room at three AM? Or in her home all night?”

Rio fought the urge to swing at her because the woman was a federal agent. “You signed an NDA-”

“I’m not a snitch.” Kate shook her head. “Just be careful on main roads, I’ve already seen some news vans. Take side streets.”

Which is exactly why she parked two streets over last night. Damn, Agatha wasn’t even married and somehow Rio still felt like the mistress.

“Thanks.” Rio acknowledged and continued down the little pathway towards the back gate. “And-”

“I won’t say anything to her.” Kate said. “Pretty sure she’d rip my head clean off my body.”

That she would.

After getting home, showering, changing, and decidedly setting Agatha’s sweater aside rather than putting it in the hamper to be washed, Rio left for work. She expected some chaos, but nothing prepared her for what she walked into. The bullpen had several staffers all aimlessly running around, shouting out new articles with the story. Interns rushing around with stacks of folders, and the rest of the team.

“Did you fucking know about this?” Jen yanked her aside.

“Jen.” Rio sighed.

“You fucking knew, that's why Agatha kicked me out of her office yesterday, right?”

“I’m handling it.”

“Rio, you don't know the half of it-”

“Agatha told me.”

Jen dropped her hold, shock plastering her face. “She told you about…?”

“Gap year, McLean, chic French suicide attempts….” Rio said in lieu of Nicky’s name. “I have a plan.”

“I- I-” Jen blinked. “Shit.”

“How’s she doing?”

“You haven’t spoken to her yet?”

“Not since yesterday.” Rio lied.

“Probably best if I just show you rather than tell.” Jen turned for the veep’s office.

Upon entering, Rio was presented with Agatha and the fucking president of the United States in a screaming match.

“What the fuck, Agatha?!” Steve yelled across the room. “I endorse you, and you don’t have the wherewithal to tell me this shit?”

Agatha stood behind her desk, rolling her eyes. “I don’t know what to tell you, Rogers. Hike up your skirt, pull out your tampon, and grow a fucking pair!”

“You can’t say that.” William muttered.

Agatha whipped around to stare daggers at him. “Don’t start with me. Call me when your balls fucking drop!”

“Do you know how this makes me look?!” Steve continued.

“Like the golden boy has a loon for a second in command?” Agatha rhetorically responded. “Like you have a thing for mentally ill women?”

Oh, low blow.

Still, Rio had to hide her smirk.

“Do not bring up Peggy right now!”

“It’s not even true!” Agatha screamed.

“Don’t, don’t fucking give me that.” Steve held up his hand. “Where there’s smoke with Agatha fucking Harkness, there’s fire.”

“Oh, Steve.” Agatha grinned. “You flatter me.”

“If evidence comes out…” Steve grimly chuckled. “I’m not protecting you.”

“When have you ever fucking protected me?! I’m your fucking fall guy!”

“What the fuck, Harkness?!” Lilia stormed in, eyes widening as she registered Steve. “Mr. President.” She tilted her head before returning her gaze at Agatha. “You-”

“Calm down, bleeding heart.” Agatha waved a dismissive hand.

“I said I’d only agree to this farce of a fucking campaign if you told me everything!” Lilia’s voice shook with rage. “This didn’t seem important?!”

Agatha leaned against the desk. “I thought your party was all about mental health and bullshit.”

“Not when it applies to elected officials!”

“Just do that shit you always do, with the feelings and the understanding…”

“Empathy?” Lilia gawked.

“Yeah.” Agatha raised her glasses to sit atop her head. “Empathize n’ shit.”

“Agatha.” Steve cut in. “We have the Wakadan state dinner tonight and you’re fucking ruining it!”

The last administration might’ve said numerous racist things about the entire continent of Africa and subsequently started a tiny trade war with specifically Wakanda. Four painstaking years later, the Rogers administration had finally gotten the two countries to be neutral with one another again.

“I’m aware.” Agatha huffed. “Pulled me off the campaign trail for it.”

“They’re landing any minute and I’m dealing with this!” He panicked.

“Nobody is asking you to deal with it, Steve!” Agatha pointed out. “I have a team for that!”

“Why am I being asked to comment on you being institutionalized and why the hell did nobody tell me?!” Wanda burst in with Alice in tow, heels clomping. “What am I supposed to say?”

Rio rubbed her temple. This was a shitshow.

“Wanda-” Rio began.

“No comment, Po.” Agatha interjected.

Po, as in the red Teletubby.

Rio smiled.

“How the fuck do you know the Teletubby’s names?” Wanda cocked her head.

“I keep a running google search of red or ginger things and people to call you.” Agatha smirked. “Running a little low after four years.”

Wanda exhaled a frustrated breath. “I should’ve gotten a heads up before the press jumped down my throat.”

“This is literally your job.” Agatha spoke. “You wanna be White House press secretary? Here’s your trial run.”

“You stayed in a mental hospital and thought it wise not to tell anyone on your team?” Wanda wildly gestured. “Would’ve been nice to know that you’re not just insane, but clinically fucking insane.”

“You get weepy every year over the death of whoever.” Agatha dismissed. “You’re more hysterical than me.”

“You think we’re the same?” Wanda yelled. “That’s over the death of my brother!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Wanda! Sometimes-” Agatha started off yelling before her voice wavered. “Sometimes boys die.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Wanda’s face dropped in disdain. “The nerve-”

“Okay.” Rio finally cut in. “That’s enough.”

Everyone grumbled, but surprisingly listened as Rio continued. “Lilia, say nothing.” She looked at Wanda. “You and Alice draft some bee-bopping nothing press release.” She then looked at the president. “And don’t you have a country to run?”

Agatha gave a tired smile.. “Yeah Rogers, go tend to the country. Or, you know, your broken shell of a wife.”

“You need to be sedated.” Steve spat.

“They tried at the institution! It only made me stronger!” Agatha dramatically widened her eyes.

“Really?” William piped up.

Agatha manically grinned. “I’m a biter.”

“Everyone out!” Rio said.

Everyone funneled out of Agatha’s office, leaving her, Jen, and Rio.

“You’d think it was a porno the way I was just ganged up on.” Agatha mumbled, body dropping to her chair. “And no happy ending!”

The rest of Rio’s work day was spent watching various news outlets discuss the article. Different anchors and pundits all weighing in, talking about how it could hurt Agatha’s chances of winning. Social media was a dumpster fire. Some showing their support, others going the route of the hysterical woman narrative.

All and all, it was bad.

Rio wanted to find Evanora a beat her to a fucking pulp. She also wanted to find that guy from college. And anyone else who inflicted pain on Agatha in the past. She wanted to fix this for her.

“Be honest.” Agatha said as they sat in her office that night. “Am I done?”

“No.” Rio responded without hesitation. “There’s still a lot of race left.”

“Ughhh.” She dropped her head down. “You think I could bail on the dinner tonight?”

Rio chuckled. “No. You need to act like nothing’s happened. Like the story is so far from the truth that you’d have no reason to hide.”

Also because a state dinner wasn’t just dinner. It was basically a gala happening in the White House with senators, congressmen, diplomats, and the entire Wakandan government.

Oh, and journalists.

From every major news outlet.

“Fuck.” Agatha groaned.

“Ma’am?” William knocked. “I have to collect you for hair and makeup.”

“Fuuuuuck.” Agatha groaned again, reluctantly standing from her desk.

“See you in a couple of hours.” Rio said as she stood, getting ready to go home and change before coming back.

“Maybe I’ll have a stroke.” Agatha replied halfway out the door.

The dinner was fine, Rio spent most of it trying to deflect journalists, laughing and saying “Let’s not talk shop tonight.” about twenty times an hour. Which was actually a win in her book because it meant she wasn’t gawking at Agatha.

And she was so fucking easy to gawk at.

The vice president had her hair pulled back into an effortlessly chic low bun, little strands framing her face, especially the gray ones. Her dress was long and black but more structured up top, with a very, very deep slit at her chest.

Again with the sudden urge to lick.

But, she had a job to do, so she kept her distance for most of the night. Staying close with the rest of the team and schmoozing who she needed to. She’d just gotten done dancing in the ballroom with an old contact, well not so much contact as a journalist Rio used to fuck from time to time. But the connection still came in handy.

She saw Agatha wrapping up a conversation before gliding over. “Did you just dance with Maria fucking Hill?” She whispered.

“Yeah…?” Rio scrunched her face. “I also danced with Lilia.”

“Right.” She said, but it held more.

“Do you wanna dance, Agatha?”

“And have it on page six tomorrow? No.”

Rio grabbed her hand and started pulling her to the floor. “You danced with Steve, Scott Lang of Vermont, and-”

“I’m not fucking either of them.”

Rio placed one hand on Agatha’s waist, upper waist, like how nervous middle-schoolers danced. “There’s nothing untoward on the surface, I don’t think one dance will give us away.”

That, and the photographers were long gone by this point in the night.

“Fine but,” Agatha moved Rio’s hand to rest on her shoulder. “Let me lead.”

“But I’m in the suit.” Rio smiled, but complied. “Right, couldn’t let ‘em think you're the one being bent over, or spanked, or-”

The band was playing loud enough that she couldn’t be heard by anyone but Agatha, so long as she spoke in hushed tones.

“Why were you dancing with Maria?” Agatha interrupted, not even annoyed at Rio giving her shit, more so about another woman. “She’s a fucking reporter.”

“Yes, and it’s good to have someone in your corner who can sway public opinion.”

“And you needed to have your hands on her in order to do that?” Agatha’s hold on Rio’s waist tightened.

Rio tilted her head. “Isn’t this song from the forties?”

Agatha blinked, caught off guard by the change in topic. “It’s Steve and Peggy's song. Insufferable man makes them play it at every event.”

It’s Been A Long, Long Time continued to be played by the band as Rio peeked around the floor, finding Steve and Peggy dancing in their own little world. “I don’t know, I think it’s sweet. They look happy.”

“It’s the drugs.” Agatha deadpanned. “Why’d you dance with her?”

“You jealous?”

“I just don’t want to catch a venereal disease.”

Rio tucked her tongue against her cheek. “Lie.”

Agatha let out a frustrated breath. “So you expect me to be yours, but the street doesn’t go both ways?”

“Are you?” Rio looked Agatha directly in the eyes.

“Am I what?” Agatha looked back.

“Mine.” Rio said so simply, so earnestly.

“I know my feminism might be a smidge archaic in your opinion, but even I know that’s not PC.”

“You’re deflecting.” Rio held eye contact.

Agatha shifted her gaze away. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

“Answer the question.”

“I don’t-” Agatha kept dancing, keeping her face neutral for the sake of being in public. “Rio.”

“I’d be yours.” She offered.

Agatha’s eyes snapped back to her.

“If you admit you want me to be.” Rio finished.

“Why?” Agatha seemed genuinely confused. “Why do you want me? Why do you want me to want you?”

“Feels good. Feels right. Feels inevitable.” Rio listed off.

“This isn’t the time or the place.”

“When is?” She asked. “Next time we fuck?”

Agatha didn’t answer.

“Did last night feel like just sex to you, Agatha?”

Because it didn’t to her.

It felt like more.

“This has an expiration date, Rio.”

“And until then,” Rio leaned in fractionally, enough for plausible deniability. “I’m yours.”

Agatha’s body relaxed.

But Rio wasn’t done. “So long as you're mine.”

The song ended and Agatha pulled away, dropping her hands from Rio’s body. She didn’t say anything as she left the ballroom, heading out the ornate doors. Rio followed.

She’d always follow.

She tried to make it subtle as she tracked Agatha up to the second floor. They were officially out of the public space of the White House, known as the residence. The actual home part of the White House.

There were no guests up here, just a stray maid or other random staff every now and again. She saw Agatha turn a corner into the library and Rio did the same.

The room was lined with shelves, floor to ceiling, all overflowing with books. The room was cozy, dark blue paint saturated the walls, plush sofas, a massive rug, and a fireplace.

As soon as Rio walked in, Agatha spoke. “Did you fuck her?”

Oh, the deja vu Rio got from that sentence.

“Who?”

“Maria.”

“Cameras?” Rio peered around.

“There are no cameras in the residence.”

Rio pocketed that information.

“There are no cameras in the residence.” She parroted.

“Did you fuck her, Rio?”

“A couple of times.” She closed the door, leaning her back against it. “Years ago.”

Agatha’s face twisted into something Rio couldn't quite pinpoint, maybe irreverence. “Fuck, you really have a type…”

“Sue me.” Rio didn’t move, confident that Agatha would come to her. “But that shouldn’t bother you, right? Cause I’m not yours.”

“I thought your generation were all supposed to be into no labels!” Agatha bit out.

“That’s the one after me.”

“Do you get off on this? Making things hard on me?”

“I could quite literally not make this any easier.”

Rio was the one putting it all out there to a woman who, as she so lovingly put it all the way back in Tennessee, has the emotional intelligence of a thumbtack.

Agatha strode across the room, stopping just shy of Rio. “Nothing about this is easy.”

“I’m aware of the risks.”

“And you’re still pursuing me.” Agatha was so close. “Why?”

And that answer was easy. For everything about this that was complicated, the baseline was clear as fucking day.

“I-” Rio physically held herself back from touching. “I can’t stop.”

It felt like there was a magnet between them, forcing them closer even though both were resisting the pull.

“Because I don’t want to stop.” Rio added. “Do you?”

Agatha shook her head. “And what happens come November?”

Her response fell from her lips before she knew she was saying it. “Wild geese?”

Even if it was temporary, even if there was an end date etched in goddamn stone, Rio would take what she could get. She’d live in the time they had and worry about the rest later.

Fuck it?

Agatha’s eyes softened, hands finally reaching out, sliding underneath the jacket of Rio’s suit. “Wild geese.”

Fuck it.

Agatha started to close the distance, but Rio stopped her, grabbing her face and holding it. “Say it.”

Her eyes bore into Rio’s, trying to convey what she’d probably never say.

That this was more than just sex for her too.

That she was also choosing to ignore the end they both knew had to come.

That there was something more in what was left unsaid.

“I’m yours.”

Rio gently pulled her closer, a breath away from actual touch.

Agatha continued.

“And you’re mine.”

And that was enough for Rio.

It had to be.

Chapter Text

I can’t stop.

Because I don’t want to stop.

It ran through Agatha’s brain on a loop.

I’d be yours.

Played like a broken record.

Say it.

So she did.

Like a prayer.

Agatha said it, gave Rio an inch, gave her more than she’d give anyone else.

Let Rio see more of her than anyone else had in decades.

So when Rio finally drew Agatha in, finally closed the distance and crashed her lips into Agatha’s?

It felt different than all the other times. It felt different than the bathroom or the beach house. Different from all the numerous hotel rooms.

It felt better.

It felt better when she pushed her body against Rio’s.

It felt better when Rio’s tongue brushed against hers.

It felt better when Rio sucked Agatha’s bottom lip and fisted her hands in Agatha’s hair.

Oh, fuck, her hair.

“Baby.” Agatha murmured between Rio reconnecting their lips. “Rio-”

The younger woman wouldn’t let her speak, not letting her break apart for long enough to get her words out. Usually Agatha wouldn’t fucking care and let Rio devour her, take what she wanted from her.

Agatha realized in that moment she’d never let anyone else have that. That kind of hold on her.

Different spiral for a different time, she internally scolded herself.

She lightly pushed Rio’s waist, pulling back, breaking the kiss.

“My hair.” Agatha breathlessly muttered.

“Love it.” Rio easily responded.

“No.” Agatha snorted. “Your hands-” She brought her hands up to Rio’s, gently untangling them. “I can’t be seen leaving the state dinner looking like I just got fucked.”

“Then we need to leave.” Rio’s hands skimmed Agatha’s sides, like she was trying to keep control over her own limbs. “Because if we stay any longer, it will most definitely end up looking that way.”

“I can’t just disappear.” Agatha said, tone laced with remorse. “Can you survive another hour? Meet back at mine?”

“Oh, I won’t be gunned down by your agents?”

“As if they haven’t caught on by now.”

Rio’s eyebrows shot up. “You know?”

“Of course I know. You slept over last night and they watch me like a fucking hawk. Can’t even charge my fucking vibrator without an agent knowing.”

“One hour.” Rio agreed. “Or I’m dragging you to the nearest supply closet.”

A chill ran down her spine, mostly because she knew Rio would actually do that.

Agatha kissed her one more time. “One hour.”

She lasted twenty minutes before her eyes drifted to Rio again across the ballroom. Was she actively in conversation with the Secretary of the Treasury? Sure, but Rio looked too fucking good in that suit. It was a deep forest green and double breasted, and her button up underneath had one too many buttons undone for a DC event.

Agatha politely nodded and smiled as the man next to her yammered on; she thinks he was talking about the debt ceiling when Agatha’s eyes tracked Maria Hill and Rio at the bar. A friendly conversation, Rio speaking with a practiced smile on her face, glass of champagne in one hand, arm resting on the marble bar top.

Agatha’s fingers wrapped around the stem of her glass, almost choking it. Maria had been a pretty non-offensive figure to Agatha for many years. Intelligent woman, good journalist, respected primetime news anchor.

Now though?

As she placed a hand on Rio’s wrist, threw her head back, and laughed. Maria Hill was suddenly the biggest slut in Washington. Agatha kept her face blank but her brain was already trying to calculate if she could physically fight the other woman.

No, that’s stupid, she did not need to fight the woman.

She could just launch a drone strike to her home.

Agatha had the means to do so.

Okay, she understood Rio’s possessive tendencies now.

“But they’ll just never go for it.” The man sighed.

Finally, he was done talking about…

Fuck, foreign aid?

Military spending?

Tax cuts?

Bailouts?

She couldn’t give a fuck less, honestly.

Agatha laughed, smooth and rehearsed. “Oh boy, you said it.”

“And then you have to consider-” He continued.

“I am so sorry.” Agatha interrupted. “I need to coordinate with my staff about matters of state.” She lied.

“Of course, madam vice president.” He smiled.

Thank god, she was free. She started to cross the room when a body blocked her pathway. A blur of red stood between her and Rio.

“I have several outlets wanting an interview with you.” Wanda spoke, hair in loose curls, scarlet evening gown swishing around.

And without thinking, Agatha responded. “What does Rio think?”

Wanda looked taken aback, blinking several times. “I haven't talked to her yet. She’s not the VP.”

That felt like a verbal slap across her face, because why was that her first instinct? She never asked anyone else’s opinion before. Agatha was the boss, end of story.

“Chain of command.” Agatha said. “And let’s talk about this on Monday, okay?” She peered past Wanda, watching Rio and Maria continue to talk, a faint blush coloring that fucking bimbo’s face. “Or, uh, umm…debate prep tomorrow…”

Rio and Jen had dedicated all of tomorrow, Saturday, to rigorous debate prep since the hit piece leaked. Agatha hadn’t really pushed back on it, especially since her and Rio’s normal debate prep always ended with at least one of them shaking. It’d be good for her to be asked questions while clothed for once.

Wanda followed her eyeline and grinned. “Is it worth it?”

Agatha looked at the woman in front of her again. “Hmm?”

“You’re jeopardizing everything we’ve worked for. Everything you’ve worked for.” Wanda’s voice didn’t even hold any malice, just fact. “Is she worth it?”

Agatha swallowed. “How long have you known?”

“Since the beach house.” She explained. “Heard you guys from the deck, you are loud.”

Explains the snide comments.

“Have you told anyone?”

“No.” Wanda looked at her with something akin to sympathy. “Weirdly, I think she gets you in a way none of us do. Match made in hell.”

“Thank you.” Agatha quietly acknowledged.

“Is she worth it?” Wanda repeated, a genuine question.

Agatha opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came.

And not because she wasn’t sure, not because Rio wasn’t worth it. But because it put things in a different context. When she was with Rio, her world filed down to just her. Her voice and her touch and her stupid fucking jokes. To how she made Agatha feel, how she made Agatha feel good.

Her brain briefly flickered to last night, the simple and quiet acts of care Rio showed her. The kindness, the longing, the affection. She hadn’t even kissed Agatha that night, not beyond a few simple ones to her neck or shoulder, Rio was gentle with her.

Agatha had fallen asleep last night more at ease than she had since before Nicky, since before the camp, maybe since she was a kid. She had felt safe enough to do so with Rio.

And that meant something, right?

But it also meant Agatha was still in the wrong, for wanting that, needing that. Rio was the one risking any type of viable future here, any future beyond Agatha.

And there would be for Rio, a future beyond Agatha, that is.

If Agatha lost the race, she still had a good run. Everything she wanted was within reach but when she let herself actually sit with it-

She didn’t know why she wanted it.

The power, yes. The title, for sure.

But was it worth it?

Was it worth Rio?

She supposed it didn’t matter now.

Yes, Rio was hers, but it was temporary.

Yes, she was Rio’s, but it was temporary.

Is it really a relationship if they know the end?

That’s not commitment. That’s a vacation, that’s a fling, that’s an escape.

Rio’s not Agatha’s to keep.

Agatha smirked, tucking all those emotions far, far away. “What happens on the campaign trail, stays on the campaign trail. Don’t worry about it, Wanda.”

“Hey,” Wanda smiled. “You used my name.”

“Yes, well I do know it.” Agatha deadpanned.

She looked over to the bar again, Maria was even closer now, body langue open, eyes all but screaming “fuck me.”

“I uh,” Agatha started walking again. “I gotta go, I’ll see you-” She didn’t really say anymore to Wanda, already trailing off.

Agatha heard the tail end of Maria and Rio’s conversation as she approached. “Surprised I even caught you,” Maria smiled. “Not too good for us mortals now that you’re almost to the oval?”

Rio chuckled. “You say that like you haven’t interviewed the last three sitting presidents.”

“They’re all boring white guys.” Maria sipped her drink. “What’s the veep like, really?”

Agatha hung back for just a moment, now curious to hear Rio’s response.

“Off the record?” Rio asked.

Smart.

“I’m three drinks deep, anything now would be a misquote and I’d be a fucking twitter meme.”

Rio let out a soft breath. “She’s kind of unhinged.”

Okay, fuck this.

“But in a strangely remarkable way.” Rio continued. “She’s passionate and witty, and tender when she wants to be. Agatha is tough but loyal, and I think that if more people knew the real her, the one I know, there’d be no contest for the oval.”

Agatha almost winced at the description.

A string of words she’s sure nobody else would use to describe her.

“She’s also super fucking smart and really fucking annoying.” Rio added.

Okay, nice moment over.

“You talk about her like she’s a god.” Maria grinned. “You get this look in your eye.”

Well, Rio had been on her knees enough to constitute worship, so.

“I’m trying to get a president elected, it’s the look of determination.”

Agatha made it the rest of the way to the bar, smiling like she hadn’t been eavesdropping. “Ladies.”

“Speak of the devil.” Maria turned her head. “Madam vice president.”

“I am so sorry, but I just need to steal Rio real quick.”

She wasn’t sorry at all.

“Oh, no worries.” Maria nodded, taking a step back from Rio.

“Wanda has some news outlets wanting to coordinate something, you have a moment?” Agatha looked at Rio who was obviously holding back a smirk.

She set her glass down, straightening out her jacket. “Lead the way, ma’am.”

“Lovely seeing you, Maria.” Agatha gritted out.

“You too, ma’am. Would love to have you on soon.”

Fuck off.

“Call my office and we can arrange that.” Agatha’s voice was dripping with false pleasantries. “Always happy to help a gal out. Glass ceiling and all that.”

Maria’s smile faltered at the insinuation her work was only valued based on a diversity quota. “Torches and pitchforks, right?”

But the quote wasn’t said diligently, it had that undercurrent of cattiness that women did. That Agatha had just done seconds prior.

“So, Wanda?” Rio chirped.

“Yes.” Agatha looked over to Rio. “Let’s track her down.”

So yeah, Agatha only lasted about half an hour before she mauled Rio in the back of a town car, partition up.

“You and her looked friendly.” Agatha rushed out, pushing Rio down in the backseat.

“You looked so fucking good tonight.” Rio sat up halfway nearly ripping at top of Agatha’s dress.

She took Rio’s wrists and pushed her back down, harshly pinning them to the expensive leather seat. “Nuh-uh.”

Rio’s eyes lidded at that, a lazy grin gracing her face.

“You don’t get to flirt with another woman all night and still get the privilege of touching me.” Agatha scolded.

Rio twitched underneath her, her thigh between Agatha’s own. “Yes, ma’am.”

God, the way her voice was already raspy, already desperate. Agatha had barely done anything and Rio was so pliant for her.

“Touch me and I stop.” Agatha spoke, releasing her hold and dropping her hands to the zipper of Rio’s perfectly tailored pants, opening them without care.

The woman beneath her nodded, canting her hips up to help. In doing so, Rio’s thigh brushed against Agatha, causing Rio to moan out at how soaked Agatha was through her underwear. She only focused on the friction for a second before slipping her hand into Rio’s pants and underneath the waistband of her underwear.

“Fuck.” Agatha moaned as her fingers met nothing but wet warmth coating trimmed hair and soft skin.

“Baby.” Rio dug her nails into her own palms, thigh flexing against Agatha.

“How long have you been like this?” She ground her hips down, might as well.

“Library.” Rio mewled when Agatha easily slipped two fingers inside her.

Of course she got wet from a simple make out session.

Agatha bent further down, starting to move her fingers as she whispered in Rio’s ear. “You were dripping for me when she was touching you?”

Rio’s gaze flickered between her face and the clear view she had down Agatha’s dress. “Yes.”

“Did you think about me when you looked at her?” She sped her hips, the friction was delicious, and something told her Rio was getting off more on the thought of Agatha using her like this rather than Agatha’s fingers fucking her.

“I only ever-” Rio threw her head back when Agatha curled her fingers. “Only ever think about you.”

“Only me?” Agatha cruelly smiled, pulling her fingers out and returning with three. The way Rio moaned at the feeling, the way she stretched to accommodate Agatha.

“Only you.” Rio dumbly agreed.

“You take me so well.” Agatha praised. “Did you take Maria like this?”

Rio rushed to shake her head, a vein on her neck popping out as she strained. “No, baby. Only you.”

“Were you this wet for her?” Agatha’s hips ground harder.

“Agatha-”

“Did you sound this desperate?” Her free hand came up to Rio’s throat, squeezing. “Were you pathetic for her like you are for me?”

“F- fuck.” She whimpered. “No.”

Agatha looked down at her with nothing but condescension. “No, what?”

Rio got the message. “No…” She whined as Agatha thrust harder. “No, ma’am.”

And the sick sense of pride Agatha got from that, the sense of control, made her crave more. She brought her mouth to Rio’s neck, biting down and sucking, ignoring how Rio cried out at the sharpness of her canines. There was always an unspoken rule that Rio couldn’t leave any marks on her. The veep couldn't be seen with a hickey or a bruise in a suggestive place.

But her campaign manager could.

Rio’s sex life was of no interest to the public.

Anyone could’ve left that mark.

“Good boy.” Agatha whispered against her throat.

Her back arched, her knuckles white as she kept her hands in fists. “Agatha…”

Rio’s walls clenched around her fingers, she was close. “Ask.”

“Please.” Rio’s voice broke. “Please can I come?”

Agatha moved her hand to cover Rio’s mouth and nodded. “Show me you’re mine.”

Rio’s stomach contracted as her eyes slammed closed, a muffled scream came from behind Agatha’s hand. That partition was not soundproof.

Thank fuck she had the foresight to think ahead because Rio’s orgasm hit her hard. Her hands flying to Agatha’s hair and scrunching, trying to find something to ground her as she pulsated around Agatha’s fingers.

Agatha’s movements didn’t stop, but slowed as Rio came down. Brown eyes fluttered open, a heavy blush on her cheeks. She slipped her hand out of Rio’s pants, grinning at the slight whine Rio let out as a result.

She lifted one hand while the one covered in Rio’s cum to the younger woman’s lips. Her campaign manager complied immediately, opening her mouth and sucking all three.

Agatha briefly looked over Rio out the window, noting where they were. “We’re five minutes away from my place. Think you can make me come in that time, pretty boy?”

And sure she might’ve pressed her fingers in a little more than necessary, causing Rio to gag. “Mmh.” Was all she could respond with.

Rio’s eyes welled, tears collecting and Agatha smiled. “On second thought,” She rolled her hips against Rio’s thigh with renewed purpose. “I think I can get off on the sight of you choking around me just fine.”

Fuck, she wanted to see how far Rio would let her go, the woman didn’t seem to have a limit to what she liked, what she’d endure.

“You’d let me do anything, wouldn’t you?”

Again, Rio made a garbled noise around her fingers.

Her hips didn’t stop. “You’d let me put out my fucking cigarette on you and thank me for it afterwards.”

Rio’s eyes almost rolled back in her skull.

“Are you a pain slut, Rio?”

Copper eyes were hardly copper, almost entirely black.

She felt that familiar coil in her stomach. “You like being my toy?”

Another useless whine.

“How badly do you wish you were touching me right now?”

Rio’s tongue weaved around her fingers, maybe trying to convey her answer, but Agatha didn’t want to hear it.

She knew the answer.

“Fuck.” She moaned, orgasm building. “Baby-“

And Rio almost looked pained. Not physically. But mentally, Agatha saw her internally clawing to help, to participate.

“God, Rio.” She shuddered out, locking eyes with her. “I’m-“

Agatha didn’t finish her sentence before the already frayed thread that was her sanity snapped. Her whole body tensed, stopping cold as she came. Rio’s hands fell to her thighs, pulling, trying to get closer as Agatha lurched forward, head buried against the crook of her neck.

She blew out a short breath as the car slowed, making the familiar curve up the driveway.

Oh, fuck, that was quick.

Agatha hastily removed her fingers from Rio’s mouth, looking down at Rio who was looking back up at her with something in her eyes. The something that Maria had talked about. She didn’t call her on it, instead bringing a thumb to the corner of Rio’s lower lip, collecting the spit that had collected there and placing a soft kiss to swollen lips.

“You okay?” Agatha quietly asked.

“Do that again.” Rio rasped.

She grinned as the car came to a complete stop, scrambling off her campaign manager and fixing her dress. Next to her Rio sat up, buttoning her pants and adjusting her jacket. Her driver came around, opening the door for her.

“Ma’am.” He mumbled, not making direct eye contact.

Not uncommon, most people who worked for her didn’t look her in the eye. She might’ve had a reputation for snapping…on occasion.

But this time it was different, like he’d heard what was happening on the other side of the partition.

Well shit.

“Thank you.” She briefly glanced at him before making her way to the front door, lingering for a beat as she heard Rio following.

She’d always follow,

Wouldn’t she?

Instead of letting that thought calcify in her chest, where it’d become heavy and inevitable, she opened the door and stepped aside for Rio to walk in behind her.

The moment the it shut, Agatha pounced, pinning her against the door, wrinkling her suit jacket by fisting her hands in the lapels, trying to siphon Rio’s fucking soul through the bruising kiss. Rio groaned, her hands coming to Agatha’s hair, finding little pins and unwinding them from strands. Slowly but surely freeing her hair from the bun.

Her hair fell unceremoniously, cascading down her back as skilled fingers combed through it, almost like Rio needed to feel it to ground herself in reality.

Agatha fumbled getting Rio’s jackets off before yanking her shirt open, buttons clattering to the floor. Her lips mouthed over the soft skin of Rio’s neck, that one little vein that always made itself known. Her collarbones, licking a small stripe in the divots. Her sternum, her tits, biting wherever she could. A sudden urge to mark her territory as Rio just held on writhed, heavy breaths filling the empty space.

She felt Rio pull at the zipper at the back of her dress, wrenching the track from the teeth. Her hands so warm, almost searing against Agatha’s spine.

The house was almost completely dark, only one lamp illuminating the hallway as they pawed at one another like teenagers.

“Upstairs.” Agatha nearly growled, grabbing Rio’s wrist yet again and leading her just like last night.

Rio obeyed, shirt hanging off her frame, dazed grin on her face. Agatha didn’t pay attention to how they got there, too wrapped up in the way Rio kept stopping them to grab Agatha’s ass or pull her into a kiss as they ascended the staircase.

They didn’t speak as they reached the bedroom, Rio kicking off her shoes as Agatha finally got the rest of her suit off. Her campaign manager nearly ripping the extremely expensive gown down Agatha’s body before dropping to her knees and undoing the buckle of Agatha’s heels.

She reached down and steadied herself on Rio’s shoulder as she stepped out of the first stiletto. She looked down as Rio undid the second, amber eyes filled with affection, adoration, an unrelenting willingness.

Devotion.

That’s the look, the fucking thing in Rio’s eyes.

It was devotion.

She ignored the tightness in her throat. The way her heart constricted, like it had skipped a beat at the revelation.

She prompted Rio to stand by tugging on her hair, kissing her again. Maybe she couldn’t say, maybe she never would, but hoping to convey that she didn’t hate the idea of it. The devotion.

She walked them until the back of Rio’s knees hit the mattress, sending her back with a soft thud. Agatha looked at her for a moment, really looked at her. Cheeks flushed, lips puffy and parted, eyes trained on her, chest rising and falling rapidly. Her body, everything so fucking ethereal, every part of her.

Agatha wasn’t graceful in her movements to rid Rio of her bra and underwear, but it wasn’t without care like before, it was laced with need.

Need to be close, need to touch, need to take, need to have.

She reached into her nightstand, plucking out the strap and harness.

Not Rio’s.

Hers.

Rio’s eyes widened for a moment, though not out of fear, out of anticipation. Agatha hadn’t been the one to wear the strap yet, to fuck Rio like this. However she was fairly confident the other woman was game as she hypnotically watched Agatha strip the rest of the way and step into the harness. Dark purple appendage now erect between her legs.

“Fuck.” Rio whispered at the sight.

“You want it, baby?” Agatha climbed onto the bed.

Rio smiled. “I don’t know, it’s definitely not made from solid gold.”

Fucking twitter lesbians.

“I keep that one at my villa in Spain.” Agatha smirked, crawling forwards.

“What about the harness?” Rio asked, eyes crinkling. “Italian leather?”

“I’m starting to think you started that rumor.” Agatha dragged her mouth along Rio’s stomach. “Maybe you’re running those accounts.”

“God forbid I have a hobby.” Rio’s breath hitched as Agatha’s mouth closed around her nipple.

Agatha let out a content hum, placing a hand on Rio’s hip to prompt her to flip over, when she spoke again. “Wait.”

Agatha pulled back. “What’s wrong?”

“Can we just stay like this?”

“Like what?”

“This.” Rio motioned to the two of them.

Missionary?

They didn’t really do that. Maybe for a minute or two before or after a different position. But never as the actual main means of fucking.

It felt too intimate to see someone’s face so close like that.

“Why?” Agatha furrowed her brows.

“I wanna see you.” Rio said it so plainly, like it was supposed to be obvious to her.

“You want to see me?” Agatha repeated.

“Yeah…?”

“God that’s really, really gay.” She muttered.

Rio chuckled. “What do you think?” She lifted herself up just enough so her lips brushed Agatha’s ear. “Fuck me, madam vice president. I need it.”

Agatha nearly choked at the title. It’s not like it hadn’t crossed her mind that it could be hot to hear it in this context. But hearing Rio say it as a plea rather than a demand or degradation made her fucking vibrate.

She braced the hand still on Rio’s hip, wrapping the other one around her thigh and pulled. Grinning at the girly yelp Rio let out in surprise.

“Say that again.” Agatha husked, lining herself up.

“Madam vice-” Rio’s words were smothered by an absolutely sinful scream as Agatha thrust forward, making sure Rio took her to the hilt.

“Again.” She demanded, one hand leisurely grasping Rio’s throat, the other digging into her thigh.

“Madam-” Rio shuddered as Agatha thrust again. “V-vice- fuck!”

She didn’t stop as Rio struggled to speak, just snapped her hips forward, watching the shaft disappear as Rio stretched around it.

“Agathaaaa-” Rio whined, fingers clasped onto her back, nails scratching.

She could have some lines tomorrow, the public rarely ever saw that part of her.

Agatha’s grip tightened around her throat. “Uh- uh.” She chided. “It’s either madam vice president or ma’am. Pick one and use it.”

Rio’s eyes flashed with recognition at the sentence, it's what she’d said the morning they fought in the GMA dressing room.

The younger woman let out a wanton moan as her jaw went slack. “Oh god.”

Her pace was brutal, but Rio’s sounds alone fueled her forward. “Say it again, drop the ‘vice’.”

The corner of Rio’s mouth tilted upwards. “Madam president.”

Fuck, that made her feel like a god amongst men.

Her breath stuttered as the words hit her eardrums, her hips however kept their pace. Upon the millionth scratch to her back she finally yanked Rio’s hands away, taking both wrists and pinning them with one hand, the other still on her throat.

“Such a good toy for me.” Agatha praised through her panting.

Rio’s eyes glazed over, not from the slight pressure Agatha was applying to her neck, but from what Agatha had just called her. “Y-yeah.”

“Say it.”

“I’m your toy.” Rio’s voice was hoarse but no less strong. “I’m your toy.”

“Do you like it when I use you, baby?”

“Yes.” She said with no hesitation.

“Yes, what?” Agatha raised her brows, an expectant look on her face.

Rio’s back bowed off the bed, pushing her neck further into Agatha’s grip. “Yes, I like it when you use me, madam president!”

Yeah, she might’ve been drunk on power, but she had a hot woman writhing underneath her, happily clenching around her cock and fulfilling her most egotistical fantasy, fucking crucify her.

“Who do you belong to?”

“I belong to you.”

“Who owns you?”

“You own me.”

“Who’s cock are you gonna feel tomorrow?”

“Yours, fuck! Yours!” Rio’s forehead had a thin sheen of sweat coating it, her breath was unsteady and Agatha could feel her legs shaking from where they sat hooked around Agatha’s hips.

“So obedient.” And it was meant as genuine praise, but came out as awe. Pure awe that Rio was so readily giving Agatha this level of trust.

And she might not admit a lot of shit, but even she’d recognize the weight that trust carried.

She snapped her hips faster, making Rio take all of it as she moved her hand from Rio’s neck to cradle the side of her face. She wanted to say something to convey that she didn’t take what was happening here lightly, but her brain couldn’t produce the right words.

She pushed that away, now wasn’t the time.

Instead she swiped her thumb along Rio’s jawline, letting it settle on her bottom lip, lightly pulling. Of course Rio complied, opening her mouth for whatever Agatha wanted to give her.

Agatha pursed her lips for a moment before letting a thin string of spit fall from her mouth directly to Rio’s, her campaign manager’s moans reverberating through the otherwise quiet home.

She watched as it landed on Rio’s tongue, waiting for her next instruction. Agatha smiled with pride as Rio watched with bated breath.

“Swallow.”

And on a dime, Rio did.

“So good.” Agatha whispered, dropping her head to Rio’s shoulder, trying to gather herself at how perfect Rio was for her. “So fucking- good, good boy.”

The way Rio sounded and moved, how the base of the strap was hitting Agatha’s clit just right-

God’s not real, but jesus fucking christ, this was a religious experience nonetheless.

“Baby-” Rio pleaded. “I’m gonna-”

Agatha turned her head, nose now buried against Rio’s neck. Fuck, she smelled how she always did but mixed with sweat and sex.

Intoxicating.

“Me too.” Agatha interrupted. “Shit, Rio…”

Rio’s wrists broke free, hands returning to her hair. Agatha dropped her hand between them, taking two fingers and circling Rio’s clit, keeping her hips steady despite the fact that she was almost shaking. She wanted to watch Rio come first.

The woman underneath her screamed and ear splitting shriek, like her voice was clawing against itself. Her whole body went rigid before little shock waves hit, head thrown back, neck vein popping. On instinct, Agatha ran her tongue along that vein, still fucking her through it.

She let herself look, really look, at Rio as it happened. Every curve, line, and slope on her face. She’d never analyzed her like that, so close, and Agatha came to the conclusion that Rio might’ve been the most beautiful fucking specimen to walk the planet-

No.

She was not going to do that, she was not going to think those thoughts.

See, this is why missionary is stupid fucking position.

Rio’s eyes fluttered. “Please.”

She was asking for Agatha to come like she would be able to feel it, like she needed it more than her own orgasm.

And that’s what sent her, or more accurately, violently fucking hurled her over the edge. “Fuck, baby.”

She came with Rio’s hand at the nape of her neck, holding. She came with Rio’s legs wrapped around her. She came with Rio looking up at her like there was no sight more precious.

Agatha’s hips stuttered as her body seemingly set itself on fire, her blood ran hot through her veins, her skin must’ve been a thousand degrees as she collapsed onto Rio.

She let herself stay like that for just a minute, completely enmeshed in Rio. Listening to her breath, feeling her limbs tangled with Agatha’s, noting the soft touches she administered as Agatha felt her orgasm ebbing away.

She almost let herself lean into it, like a cat nuzzling its owner.

Almost.

Agatha pushed herself back up. “Again?”

Rio smiled. “Again.”

Even her smile was sending a twisting, aching feeling to Agatha’s chest.

Oh, she’s so fucked.

Chapter Text

She woke up on Saturday morning in her boss’s bed with something warm and soft in her arms.

That thing?

Her boss.

Her arms were slung around Agatha, the veeps head buried in her chest. Rio brought a hand to her hair, twirling the ends like she always did. She enjoyed the few minutes of peace, Agatha relaxed and rested. The woman was always so rigid and animated that seeing her like this was a rarity.

Rio liked to consider it almost sacred.

And as soon as she thought it, she felt Agatha’s whole body tense as blue eyes fluttered open. She blinked a few times, registering her surroundings before her body went slack against Rio’s once more. Their limbs were tangled together and Rio could feel Agatha’s breath against her collarbones.

“Morning.” Rio spoke, Agatha’s hair still between her fingers.

“Mm, morning.” She grumbled, eyes heavy.

“You know you snore?”

“No I don’t.”

“You do. Like a foghorn.”

“I don’t snore.”

“Have you gotten that checked out? Because it could be-” Rio started teasing before being cut off by Agatha kissing her. It wasn’t heated or passionate, just a simple act of affection.

Agatha pulled back, groaning. “Morning breath.”

But Rio grabbed her face, not ready to let her leave the bed. “I don’t care.”

She snorted. “You should, yours is terrible.”

“Yours is worse, mouthbreather.”

Agatha attempted to get up. “Then I guess, I should go-”

“No.” She pulled her back.

“Rio…” Agatha lightly scolded.

And Rio engulfed her again, ignoring the admonishment. She never got this with Agatha and didn’t know when she’d get it again. Something as domestic as waking up with her at the same time, still wrapped up in one another, too focused on each other to brush their damn teeth.

“Just a couple of minutes.” Rio persuaded. “Then I’ll leave.”

Agatha let Rio hold her, sun barely peeking through the curtains. “You don’t have to…”

“We have debate prep.”

“Yeah, but not for a couple hours.”

Rio smiled. “You want me to stay?”

Agatha rolled her eyes and pried herself from Rio, finally standing.

Fuck, did she push her too far by asking that?

Rio shamelessly ogled a very naked Agatha, trying to memorize every fucking detail. It’s not her fault the vice president of the United States was quite possibly the hottest woman to ever exist, that cannot be on Rio.

Agatha crossed the room, heading for the bathroom without a word. Rio slumped back in bed, maybe she fucked up.

She heard the shower turn on, a silent indication for Rio to start leaving. She sighed before getting up, scouring the floor for her clothes. She had just picked up her underwear when she heard an echo-y Agatha call out from the shower.

“You gonna join me or what?”

Rio’s head snapped in the direction of the sound, dropping the fabric and bolting to the bathroom. She nearly tripped over the ledge of the tub as she opened the glass door, revealing the woman who monopolized her every thought.

Agatha grinned, hair wet, cheeks flushed from the steam, little droplets of water clinging to her skin. Rio grinned back, stepping in under the shower head and holding onto Agatha’s waist.

Agatha’s arms wrapped around her shoulders. “After this, we really are brushing our teeth, though.”

She chuckled and leaned in. “You’re the boss.”

Post-showering and teeth brushing, Agatha lent Rio clothes to change into since her suit was scattered between multiple parts of the house. A pair of jeans and a Harkness-Calderu ‘24 sweater. She dried her hair and almost basically fucking begged to let Agatha allow her to dry that mane that Rio had become minorly obsessed with.

Yeah, she said no.

So Rio briefly pouted before going down stairs to find something to make for breakfast. However, when she opened the pantry, it was nearly barren. Same with the fridge. Half a carton of eggs, a little soy milk, and a bottle of wine.

“Where the fuck is your food?” Rio called out through the house as she heard Agatha come bounding down the stairs.

“What do you mean?” She scrunched her face.

“Don’t you have a whole staff to go grocery shopping for you?”

“Yeah.”

“So,” Rio motioned to the pantry. “Where’s your food?”

“I’m one person.”

“Exactly, and you need sustenance for survival.”

Agatha just shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m not really that much of a cook.”

“What do you eat then?”

“Whatever I can microwave.”

Rio blinked. “You’re hoping to be the next leader of the free world,” She sighed. “And you survive off ramen?”

“Instant is best.”

“My god.” Rio muttered. “Okay, well alert your staff to buy real food because I actually eat like a real adult.”

“It’s not my fault.” Agatha scoffed. “It’s not like my mother cooked, or ate for that matter. We usually didn’t even have dinner.”

“She didn’t feed you?” Rio squawked.

“Father had a cigar for breakfast, mother had a cigarette.” Agatha bitterly chuckled. “By the time dinner rolled around, he was usually out with his mistress and mother would be through half a bottle of chablis. I always just grazed off of whatever I could find. Lots of peanut butter and crackers.”

“That’s awful.”

“Eh, in a fucked up way, that was something the camp actually did right. At least there I got three meals a day.” She said, so casually it wretched Rio’s heart.

“Sometimes you say the saddest shit and I wonder how Evanora hasn’t had karma or the end of a very sharp knife find her yet.”

Seriously, someone needed to take that old crone out behind the stables and put a bullet between her eyes.

“Karma isn’t real.” Agatha said. “C’mon don’t tell me you had a happy childhood.”

Rio just tilted her head, scratching her temple.

“Oh fuck you. I knew you were too well adjusted.” Agatha deadpanned. “What’d they do?”

“My mom was a teacher, papà worked at the power plant in town.”

“Ah, a real American blue collar nuclear family.”

“You don’t have to use politician speak, just say we were poor compared to you.”

And they weren’t even poor, they were middle-class.

Okay, maybe lower middle-class, but still.

“They retired now?” Agatha crossed the kitchen, stopping at the coffee maker.

Rio softly smiled. “Uh, no.”

“You said ‘were’...?” Agatha pressed a few buttons before connecting the dots. “Shit. Shit, sorry.”

Rio raised a hand to stop her. “It’s fine.”

“You’re so young though.”

Not really that young, but alas.

“Car accident, my junior year of college. Midwestern winters are fucking brutal.”

Agatha cocked her head. “You’re midwestern?”

“Iowa, baby.” Rio smirked. “Go Hawkeyes.”

“You went to Smith.”

“On a full ride, no less.”

“How does a nice midwestern girl with two loving parents end up in politics?”

“Uh, the Iowa caucuses growing up. I was fascinated and when I took poli sci in high school, my teacher suggested I look into it for college.” Rio motioned around her. “And here we are.”

“Did you grow up on a farm?” Agatha quirked an eyebrow.

Rio rolled her eyes. “No. Not all of the midwest is farmland.”

Agatha narrowed her gaze.

“I grew up on a plot of land, but-”

“You grew up on a farm!” She accused.

“It wasn’t a farm, it was a house in the country with some land.”

“Did you have animals?” Agatha asked, but it was like she already knew.

“No.” Rio defensively replied. “I mean, we had like two goats-”

“Ah!” She laughed. “You’re a hick!”

Rio mocked offense. “You’re an elitist!”

“Okay, just answer me this.” Agatha approached, placing her hands on Rio’s forearms. “What were the goat’s names?”

Rio tucked her tongue against her cheek before answering. “Sprig and Sprout.”

Agatha keeled over cackling, resting her head against Rio’s shoulder. “Oh my god, you’re such a hick!”

“It wasn’t a farm!” Rio chuckled. “We had a garden, but-”

“Like of…crops?”

“Some, yeah.”

Agatha descended into another fit of hysterics. “You hide it well, I’ll give you that.”

“Thank you. You’re very obviously a WASP.”

“Did you have cows?”

“No.”

“Chickens? Pigs?”

“No.”

“Was there a barn?” She bit back another laugh.

“...yes.”

“Naturally.” She giggled. “What about a silo?”

“Anyway,” Rio walked over to the coffee maker and found two mugs. “Should we get back to your traumatic upbringing and inherited eating disorder?”

“No way, mine's too cliché. I wanna hear more about yours.” She smiled, her genuine one.

Rio tried not to read into that, the fact that Agatha wanted to know more about her beyond the surface.

“I used to spend the summers working in the cornfields-” Rio mumbled.

“I fucked a hick!” Agatha fake pouted and came behind her. “Oh, baby…”

“I think your definition of hick is a bit skewed.”

“I’m sorry.” She sounded sincere as she placed a kiss on her cheek. “Is redneck more politically correct?”

“That’s southerners!”

“Same thing.”

“You’re mean.” Rio stated, feeling Agatha’s hands on her hips as she poured the coffee.

“You like it.”

Correction.

She loved it.

But she knew that’d scare Agatha off, so she went the safe route.

“Rich prick.” She sarcastically muttered.

“Better than a hick.”

“Stock your damn fridge.”

“Do you miss it?” Agatha spoke. “The country?”

This woman needed to stop trying to get to know her or Rio would implode.

“Sometimes. I got their house in the will, I still go every now and again. In between jobs. It’s nice to get away from DC.”

“Yeah.” She quietly agreed. “Tell me about it.”

And if Rio was dumber than she actually was, she’d suspect that statement held more. A longing.

“Do you ever think about what you’d do if you didn’t do this?”

Rio turned in her arms. “Why do you ask?”

“Just something Wanda said last night.”

“Um,” Rio considered for a moment. “I think maybe I’d teach. Follow in my moms footsteps.”

“You? A teacher?”

“Oh no, baby. Professor. I’d love to catch dumbasses using ChatGPT and make them cry until they drop out. Maybe in some quiet coastal town in Maine, somewhere I’d have a real house and a garden.”

“Hmm.” Agatha hummed back.

“What about you?”

“Don’t know if I’ve ever really thought about it. Especially not after Nicky.” Agatha said it evenly, but her tone was close to somber. “I suppose it doesn’t matter now though, right? Probably shouldn’t let the country descend into fascism.”

And Rio wanted to dissect that, but she had to pick her battles here. “Right.”

“Plus, I’m not sure who I’d even be without my constant quest for power.”

“A mortal?” Rio quipped.

“Don’t let them know that.” Agatha stage whispered. “I’m the mean VP. The soon-to-be wicked witch of the west wing. They can’t discover I’m human.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Rio gave her a quick kiss. “All of them are.”

Agatha swallowed, like she was physically choking back saying something. “Well, that’s the NDA.”

“Oh,” Rio smiled. “How I love when you bring that up.”

Agatha pulled away. “We should head out soon.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

“But like, not on a tractor, I know that’s your main mode of transportation down south.”

“It was Iowa!”

The next two weeks passed by in a blur after that. Between the campaign trail, the media circus, and actual debate prep, the entire team was spread thin. But the sleepovers became more common, in fact, some nights they didn’t even have sex. Content to just sleep in the same bed.

It was in Texas that Rio learned Agatha had the cilantro ‘soap gene’ and gave her endless shit for it.

It was in New Mexico that Agatha discovered Rio had broken her leg twice growing up. Once playing hockey, another time climbing a tree. And yes, she did give Rio shit for playing hockey.

It was in Arizona when Agatha told her about how Evanora had caught her and her teenage girlfriend on the couch after school one fateful day, and how the next night, she was ripped from her home.

And it was in Nevada that Rio showed Agatha a few childhood photos, just because she asked and because Rio had them on her phone.

“Your mom gave you thee bob?” She smirked, glasses on the tip of her nose, bundled in pajamas while they laid in bed together.

“Yes, with those stupid fucking straight across bangs.”

“She sounded like a cruel woman…”

“Truly heinous.”

“Mine might’ve smacked me around, but shit, at least she never did that.”

Although they were definitely up to double digits with states they had fucked in, and Air Force Two, and the campaign bus after one particularly successful rally.

There had been a few close calls, Jen dropping by Agatha’s hotel room unannounced, leading Rio to have to hide in a literal closet. An ill-timed hand squeeze before a rally that was almost caught on camera if not for the photographer walking by just two seconds later.

William and Wanda kept their mouths shut, so did the secret service detail, but Rio saw that smug look on Kate's face from time to time. Jen and Alice were oblivious, too invested in each other or the campaign to notice. Either way, the less people that knew, the better.

Rio didn’t know how to feel about that sentiment.

The less people that knew, the better.

She knew what she had signed up for, she was a big girl.

And Agatha was worth it.

So it didn’t matter that each day was just a countdown towards the end, because the end was nowhere in sight yet.

It was the night before the debate, they were in Agatha’s hotel room in Pennsylvania, watching some old movie on cable. Rio was in boxers and that Georgetown sweater, Agatha was in linen pajama pants and a ABBA t-shirt. She had Agatha laid against her chest, arms wrapped around her.

“You ready? For tomorrow?”

Agatha’s eyes didn’t leave the screen. “He’s a moronic trust fund baby who can barely string a coherent sentence together and I’ve been doing this for over a decade. I'll be good.”

“You’re also a trust fund baby.”

Agatha turned to look at her. “Don’t insult me. His daddy is new money tech. Tacky.”

Rio held back a laugh. “My mistake.”

Agatha looked back at the TV, watching as Julie Andrews started singing yet again.

“Never would’ve pegged you for a lover of musicals.”

“You don’t wanna peg me, baby?”

“I don’t think it’s pegging if you’re not a man.”

“Mmhh, you keep telling yourself that.” Agatha said and hummed along to another fucking song.

“How many times are they gonna do that?”

“Do what?”

“Sing.”

“It’s literally called The Sound Of Music.”

“Still…”

“You wanna watch Mama Mia instead? Or I’m sure I could find Showgirls somewhere.” Agatha goaded. “Oooh, or Burlesque if you’re in a Cher type of mood.”

“No.” Rio conceded. “No, this is fine.”

“I don’t know, I always liked musicals. They’re theatrical and dramatic. It’s a spectacle.”

“Do we wanna delve into the deeper meaning there?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m just saying it checks out.”

“Are you calling me theatrical?”

“You can draw your own conclusions.”

“Fuck off.” She gently pushed her elbow against Rio’s ribs.

“You’re a natural performer, baby. That’s all.”

“Maybe a little too much.”

Rio kissed the crown of her head. “No such thing.”

There was a beat of silence, the void only filled by the soft melodic sounds of singing.

“We should get ready for bed.” Agatha spoke.

“Yeah.”

Less than twenty-four hours later, they were backstage at The National Constitution Center in Philadelphia. Agatha was in hair and makeup along with the rest of the team and Rio got the lovely task of coordinating with the PAs. She was in the middle of doing so, when she heard a familiar voice hit her eardrums.

“Rio.”

She sighed, already exhausted. “Hela.” She greeted.

“It’s been a while.”

“And yet, not long enough.”

Hela was Tony Stark's campaign manager, a titan as far as DC standards went. Rio didn’t particularly like the woman, never had. Where Rio had at least a little bit of a moral compass, choosing to work with democrats exclusively, Hela worked for the highest bidder, and she was fucking good. She probably had a direct hand in leaking the hit piece on Agatha, it was probably her idea.

“Don’t be like that.” She chided. “I was looking forward to catching up.”

“I wasn’t.”

“How’s your girl doing?”

Rio’s stomach dropped at the wording, how the fuck did she know?

“What?” Rio snapped.

Hela furrowed her brows. “Your candidate? The vice president of the United States of America?”

Oh, she didn’t know. Crisis averted, Rio can breathe normally again.

“I don’t know, how’s your boy?” She passive aggressively replied, crossing her arms.

“Oh, we’re excited.” Hela manically smiled in a very unsettling way.

“Do you have any conscience at all?”

“Honey, I have dual citizenship, I don’t care what happens to this country.”

“Yeah thats pretty fucking obvious considering who writes your checks.” Rio scoffed.

“It’s not my fault the American public is so easily manipulated, you guys really need to improve the public education system here.” She had this sense of superiority in her tone. “And ironically enough, that’ll never happen when my candidate takes the oval.”

“Do you ever stop sucking your own dick?”

“I don’t have to, I get plenty of offers.” Hela winked.

Yeah, sure, they’d run into each other enough over the years that it had crossed Rio’s mind. And even though they had never done anything, it didn’t deter Hela from trying.

“Stark doesn't have a chance in hell, I can assure you.”

Hela tsk’d. “I wouldn’t be so sure, Rio. Those skeletons in the veep’s closet? Pretty damning…”

Rio’s body went stiff. “You’re talking out of your ass.”

Hela smiled. “Best of luck.”

She watched as Hela walked away, but something in her gut told her that Stark had ammunition.

Something nuclear.

Agatha, Jen, and Wanda all raced by her as the crew counted down the last sixty seconds before they were live. William was lint-rolling Agatha’s suit as Rio ran up to her.

“Agatha.” Rio lowly spoke. “Stark has dirt.”

Blue eyes locked onto her. “Which is?”

“I don’t-” She took a breath. “I’m not sure.”

“You took care of everything, right?”

“Yeah, of course.” She immediately responded.

Rio had made sure those records would never see the light of day. There was no paper trail. Nothing.

“Then whatever it is can’t be that bad.” Agatha cleared her throat. “I got it.”

And Rio didn’t feel confident in that, but with a few seconds left to air, she also didn’t have much of a choice.

“Yeah, you got it. You’ll be great.”

Agatha smiled, but it was the manufactured one. “I know.”

“Break a leg, I guess.”

“With that man?” She worked her jaw. “I’ll break something.”

A gangly dude holding a clipboard came sprinting up. “Madam vice president-”

“Yes, yes, thank you.” Agatha waved him off and looked back at Rio. “Wild geese?”

But this time it was an ask for reassurance.

And if she could, she’d kiss her.

But she couldn’t, not here, not anywhere without some sort of lockable door.

“Wild geese.” And she kept her voice steady for Agatha’s sake.

She watched as Agatha walked out onto stage, the announcer’s voice drowning out in her ears.

She convinced herself she was making it worse than it was, that Hela was just fucking with her.

But she couldn’t ignore it.

The calm before the storm.

Chapter Text

Agatha misses when men would go off to war and die in battle.

Because, jesus fuck, could this man fumble out fragment of a sentence after fragment of a sentence.

The debate was ninety minutes with two commercial breaks, they were currently on minute seventy-seven. One more commercial break and then closing arguments.

They’d already gone over the economy.

Which Stark blamed immigrants for.

They’d already covered immigration.

Which Stark said would be a non-issue because he’d stop violent illegal aliens from entering the country and using taxpayer dollars for sex change operations.

Agatha needed a moment after that claim, or a cigarette, or a gun.

They’d debated climate change.

Which Stark said wasn’t real.

How’d she get to this point in her life?

Arguing with an imbecile who had no prior political experience, all the while this is literally what she had done for most of her life?

Well, because even the most competent, qualified, decorated woman-

Still isn’t a man.

He hadn’t dropped any bombs, there were no explosive revelations. There were underhanded comments, remarks, accusations.

“She’s a Marxist, a communist!” He yelled at one point. “She wants to destroy America and everything we stand for.”

She actually audibly chuckled at that despite her microphone not being on at the time, that’d probably help her with the gen z vote.

So Rio had been worried for nothing. Agatha held her own, staying as calm as possible while refuting possibly the most odious man to ever live. She knew she had this, she knew there’d be no issue.

Smooth sailing.

“Moving on,” The moderator spoke. “Mr. Stark, you praised the supreme court's overturning of Roe v. Wade last year. You have vowed to be the country’s most pro-life president in American history if elected. You originally committed to a six week abortion ban before backtracking and claiming that it should be longer. However, just yesterday you said you’d support the six week window. Vice president Harkness has claimed that women shouldn’t trust you on the issue of abortion because you have changed your position so many times. Therefore, why should they trust you?”

Stark, as always, pulled his answer from thin air. “As you know, they are performing abortions up until the ninth month of pregnancy.”

Oh, if only his mother had done that with him.

“There are many reports coming out of radically liberal states saying this. The democrats are dangerous and are executing babies as soon as they are born.” He rambled like he was high on coke.

He probably was, she thought.

Agatha couldn’t control the way her face scrunched in confusion trying to follow his answers, which let’s be honest, was a pipedream.

“Even her,” Stark pointed to Agatha. “VP pick has said it’s okay to execute babies, kill babies after birth.”

No, but Lilia was obviously pro-choice.

She lightly shook her head. “Not true.”

Stark cocked his head to look at her rather than the moderator. “In fact, Harkness herself had a post-birth abortion.”

Her breath caught. “I can assure you-”

“There are records.” He interrupted.

Agatha’s eyes widened. “I don’t know what Mr. Stark is referring to.”

She vaguely heard shuffling off stage, presumably her staff scrambling.

A victorious smile graced his face, the studio lights beating down on his oily skin and shiny red tie. “A baby boy named Nicholas was born in 1995 at McLean Hospital. He died the same day. The birth and death certificates have the same time stamped on them.”

All the blood in her body rushed to her ears-

There was the fucking bomb.

There was the missile Rio was worried about.

A nuclear explosion on live television.

And what she hated most of all?

How her son’s name came out of his mouth.

How his memory was now political capital.

How he was no longer a person, he was ammunition.

Her son.

Stark continued, suddenly very coherent, certainly rehearsed. “No father listed, but the child’s mother? Agatha Harkness. But she is no mother, no mother would do to her child what she did to him.”

Her body went numb, she couldn’t feel her own hands from where they sat on the podium in front of her. Her chest ached, like the last piece of herself that she shielded from the world was violently ripped out of her.

“I have supported a six to ten week abortion ban to protect the innocent lives that Agatha Harkness and her supporters seek to destroy.”

It didn’t make sense, Rio said she took care of it.

“If we don’t implement stricter policy, women like her will continue to harm our children.” He manically waved his hands around. “How can women trust her? She sacrificed her own son!”

That felt like a harsh kick to her ribs.

He was already beating a dead horse, but might as well add a few more blows.

The studio lights started hurting her eyes, they beams of light were burning more than the tears pricking her eyes. She swore she saw herself on stage, as if she weren’t actually living this, just a version of herself was.

“Mr. Stark.” The moderator spoke.

“This evil woman sacrificed him for her own gain, for her own pleasure, for her own selfish pursuits. What’s to say she won’t do the same to anyone else’s child!” He looked at her from across the stage. “How many more children do you need to-”

She tuned out, not voluntarily, but because everything sounded like static as her legs threatened to give out. As if her blood ran completely cold, as if her lungs were now stone.

Evil woman echoed in her head.

“Unless you want a fucking defamation lawsuit from the office of the vice president of the United States, cut to fucking commercial!” Rio hissed at a PA off stage.

“Mr. Stark.” The moderator spoke again. “I’m afraid we need to cut to commercial, we’ll hear the VP’s response when we’re back.”

She couldn’t respond, there was barbed wire encasing her neck. Move too much and her skin would be sliced, her entire being split open. It felt tight, her throat forming its own noose. She couldn't speak.

“You are trying to censor me.” Tony accused as the lights shut off.

“Five minutes!” Some random guy behind the camera yelled.

But she stood frozen, her brain trying to conceptualize what just happened. She tried breathing but nothing came, everything inside her was twisted around. She felt as though her bones were wilting away, her muscles melting until her body was nothing.

Someone tugged on her, she didn’t pay attention to who.

All she made out were voices swirling around her, of the floor moving underneath her until they were back in the dressing room.

She sat on the couch with her head in her hands, hyperventilating. This wasn’t happening to her, this was happening to someone else. Because this could not be happening to her.

“How’d he find out?” Jen’s voice echoed.

“Is it real?” Wanda asked.

“It’s fake, right?” Alice added.

“They probably doctored records.” William said.

“Agatha?” Rio knelt in front of her, the first person to speak directly to Agatha rather than about her. “Agatha, can you look at me?”

No, she couldn’t, because the sight of her knees were possibly the most interesting view to her right now. Even if the image of them were blurred through the tears.

“She’s not talking.” Wanda stated the obvious.

“Thank you, Wanda.” Jen sarcastically replied. “That’s very helpful.”

Alice spoke. “We need to spin this.”

“Agatha.” Rio said again. “Look at me.”

She didn’t.

She was feeling too much.

Too much rage.

Too much heartbreak.

Too much sorrow.

Too much grief.

“We deny, deny, deny.” Wanda offered. “He’s probably bluffing.”

“He’s not.” Jen said.

“Okay we have four minutes to figure this shit out!” Alice snapped.

“Please.” Rio said. Her voice was like silk and Agatha wanted to be wrapped in it.

Everyone else kept screaming, panicking.

Rio’s voice dropped to a whisper, barely audible through the arguing.

“Baby, please.” Her hand came to rest on top of Agatha’s, lightly pulling it from where it had become tangled in her hair. “Look at me.”

Agatha snapped her gaze upwards. “They know.” Her voice broke. “Everyone knows.”

Rio nodded and turned to the others. “Guys, give us a minute.”

“We don’t have one of those.” Wanda huffed.

“Guys.” Rio’s voice suddenly went cold, steely. “Now.”

They all filed out, closing the door behind them.

As soon as the latch clicked, Rio sat next to her. “Agatha.”

“You said you took care of it.”

“I did.”

“Then how does he know?” She hissed. “I trusted you.”

“He’s a billionaire, he can pay off the whole registrar's office if he feels like it.” Rio’s hold on her hand didn’t waver. “I would never lie to you, I care about you too much.”

And Agatha knew Rio was telling the truth.

Rio wasn’t her enemy, but fuck, it’d be so much easier if she was.

She fought another wave of tears. “Rio-” But it didn’t matter, she crumpled, slumping against her.

“I know.” Rio held her, hand cradling the back of her head as she sobbed into Rio’s neck. “I know.”

Rio’s hand came to her face, propping it up. “Agatha, we have-” She checked her watch. “Three and a half minutes until you go back on that stage. What do you want to do?”

Agatha bitterly laughed. “Fucking pack it up. Tell everyone to go home. Suspend the campaign. I’m done.”

“Is that what you want?”

She pulled away completely. “Maine sounds good.”

Rio’s eyes were filled with too much affection as she gently smiled. “It’s tourist season right now, you’d hate it.”

“Then I’ll hide out in Salem!” Agatha stood.

“And what would that achieve?”

Agatha waved her hands around. “I don’t know, peace of mind!”

“From?”

She cocked her head. “You’re not serious.”

“You quit, he wins.” Rio stood too. “Every woman is forgotten about and dismissed. They’ll point to this for decades to come as a reason why women are too emotional-”

“It’s my son, Rio!” Agatha yelled. “He used my own son against me. He accused me of killing Nicky!”

“So tell them what actually happened!”

“I told you, I won’t use him for sympathy.”

“You don’t make it about him, you make it about you.” Rio said, the phone in her hand rapidly buzzing with news alerts. “What you went through. What every woman in this country will go through without proper healthcare access.”

She shook her head. “It won’t matter, the damage is done.”

“Why would you let them believe those things about you, huh?” Rio narrowed her gaze. “‘Bout Nicky?”

Agatha wiped her tear-streaked face. “Because the truth is too awful.”

“If you already think it's over, what have you got to lose?”

“Why are you pushing this?”

“Other than the fact that I cannot stand the idea of the public thinking of you as some baby killer villain,” Rio sighed. “You deserve better. He doesn’t get to win. Your vicious cunt of a mother doesn’t get to win.”

“My makeup is fucked.” Agatha said in lieu of agreeing.

“William could fix it.”

“Cause he’s gay?”

“I just know he can wield eyeliner like nothing.” Rio joked.

“They’ll know I’ve been crying.”

“Makes him look worse than you.”

“I wanna rip that man’s head off, strangle him till his eyeballs pop out.” She seethed.

“I’ll help bury the body.”

“You would, wouldn’t you.”

But it wasn’t a question.

Rio placed her hands on Agatha’s face, thumbs wiping away her mascara. “Like I said, I’m here.”

She wanted to grab Rio and run away. Maybe to Maine, maybe to a quiet town on the coast. Never to be seen again. Hide in a life of their very own.

Shit, no. That’s not what she gets. Rio was a person, not her ticket out of this.

“How much time are we looking at?”

Rio looked at her watch again. “One minute.”

“Okay, bring in the twink and the rest of the merry gay brigade.”

Exactly fifty-eight seconds later, she was back on that fucking stage. Her makeup was definitely still smudged, but it was better than looking like Alice Cooper in front of the entire nation.

“Welcome back to the 2024 presidential debate.” The moderator greeted. “We let off with vice president Harkness’ response. Madam vice president, you have two minutes.”

She let out a breath. “My opponent has lied to you tonight-”

Stark’s voice bellowed over hers. “Miss Harkness is the liar-”

“Madam vice president.” She cut him off.

He looked at her curiously.

“That is my official title, I expect you to adhere to it.” She kept her tone as even as she could. “My opponent has lied to you tonight. Not about my son, that is true. I got pregnant in college and I gave birth to him on November 11th, 1995 at McLean hospital.” She swallowed what felt like a stone in her throat. “He lied about my killing him.”

She saw the timer counting down.

“My son was stillborn. He died before he took a breath.” Her hands gripped the acrylic of the podium as though it was a shield. “And the worst part is, I’m lucky. I’m lucky I had the proper healthcare. I’m lucky he did not die inside me earlier, lucky I did not have to be treated as an incubator while my body decayed from sepsis. And with Stark’s extremist abortion ban, basic bodily autonomy will become rare.”

Her voice shook, but it didn’t break, hoping she could pass it off as passion rather than anguish. “To insinuate that people who experienced child loss do not want their children, do not mourn their children, do not wish to have their children with them every day. That is unamerican. That is hostile. That is the basis of who Tony Stark is and what he stands for.”

She had thirty seconds left. “I am a mother. I am a mother without a child. I am a mother-” Her breath caught, but she didn’t dare stop. “I am a mother who sought out the help of mental health professionals due to postpartum depression. I am a mother, and I miss my son every day. ”

Closing remarks came and went, the moderator signed off, the lights went out, the cameras were cut.

She was ready to haul ass out of there, ready to start drinking very heavily. But before she could, she felt someone at her side, she clenched her teeth as she looked at the vile man now standing directly next to her. The crew was dispersing, everyone else was waiting off stage.

“Good show, Harkness.” Tony grinned.

“Fuck you, you cocksucking prick.” She spat.

“Don’t be like that.” He held a hand to his chest as though he was wounded. “We both know your mother raised you better than that.”

“I’m two seconds away from making you impotent.”

“I come in peace.” He surrendered. “The media is gonna say you’re the victim, count this one in your favor. I have a proposition for you.”

“Every breath you take sickens me.” She tried to end this conversation, starting to walk away. “Do me a favor and find a revolver, put it in your mouth, and pull the trigger. You’ll know you’ve succeeded when the back of your skull is blown off.”

“A conservative justice is retiring.” He quietly said.

She stopped walking, turning around. “What?”

“He’s waiting until Rogers’ term is up, ensuring his seat stays red.” He nonchalantly explained. “I obviously guaranteed him I’d nominate someone who fit the bill.”

She blinked. “Why the hell are you telling me this?”

“I’m not naïve, you won this round.” He shrugged. “But a spot on the supreme court could do you a lot of good. Sure, I’d get backlash for nominating you but my supporters have the memory of goldfishes. You could bring back Roe, flip the court to a liberal majority.”

“I-”

“Drop out. Throw the race.” He listed off. “Take another vacation to the loony bin.”

“Yeah, I’ll flip the court.” She smiled.

“Glad we have an understanding.”

“When I’m president.”

He sighed. “Agatha-”

“Madam vice president.”

“Agatha.” His voice dropped. “I’d hate to see you out of your depth, that’s how someone gets hurt.”

“You threatening me, Tony?” She raised her eyebrows.

“No, no.” He shook his head. “Just don’t want to see you break a nail.”

He began walking away. “Or- wait. Your team usually keeps them short, right? Split an end then, I guess. Think about it!” He called out as he took his leave.

She stood there, frozen like a deer in headlights.

“What’d he want?” Rio said from behind her.

She scoffed. “He’s scared.”

In a sick way, Agatha was almost flattered at his attempt to strong-arm her.

“Good, the little bitch should be.”

Agatha turned around. “Let's go.”

An hour later, they were on Air Force Two. Flying far, far away from the humiliation of Philadelphia.

Everyone else was in the cabin while Agatha opted to isolate herself in the bedroom, well, the broom closet masquerading as the bedroom. She hated the confinement but she had nowhere else to curl up with the dusty bottle of vodka she scrounged from the bar cart. She didn’t even have the capacity to find a glass, instead taking pulls straight from the bottle, her suit jacket balled up behind her head as she sat on the cot that was meant to be a bed. Leaning against the wall, legs tucked underneath her. She’d rolled the sleeves of her button up around her elbows, staring at the ceiling.

The liquor burned and she usually detested clear booze, but beggars can't be choosers.

She was maybe on shot number three when the door creaked open, wordlessly Rio walked in, kicked off her shoes, and sat on the opposite side of the cot.

Agatha didn’t speak, just silently handed her the bottle, watching as she took it and drank.

It was eerily quiet, she assumed Rio would already be yapping, trying to dissect her every emotion.

However, this time-

“So,” She didn’t look at Agatha, just head on. “We live in Maine?”

She knew that’d come back to bite her in the ass. It was a moment of weakness.

“I wasn’t-”

“I vote for a cottage.” Rio downed more vodka and handed the bottle back. “Somewhere deep in the woods where we can’t be found.”

Agatha’s lips curled upwards. “So we can lure the unsuspecting townspeople to their untimely demise?”

“I’m a professor.” Rio continued. “You’re, what? A lawyer?”

“Don’t sell me short.” Agatha snorted. “I made partner years ago.”

“Okay.” She chuckled. “My mistake.”

“And if it’s a cottage it better be a big one.”

“Renovations? Again, honey?” She pouted like a frustrated wife.

“If you think we’re keeping that ugly crown moulding…”

“Whatever you want.”

“And you flirt with the checkout girl too much.”

“Midwestern charm is not flirting.” Rio didn’t skip a beat. “She’s a nice lady, works hard.”

“Well then you should’ve married her.”

She was definitely drunk because apparently now they were married.

“Baby…” Rio chided.

“Eh,” She lifted the bottle again. “It’s all just conjecture anyway.”

“Welcome to Maine, the way life should be.” Rio wistfully said.

“What?” Agatha asked through another swig.

“The sign. When you enter Maine. That’s the slogan.” She took the bottle back.

Agatha swallowed, staring into the dim room, the door barely open enough to let any light in.

“The way life should be.”

Rio nodded. “This vodka is shit.”

“Bet Maine has great vodka.”

“You hate clear booze.”

“Maybe Maine me could love vodka.”

Maybe Maine Agatha could love a lot of things.

Rio connected her eyes to Agatha’s, almost reading her mind as fast as Agatha could think the thought.

Before anything more could be said, the door swung open, producing Jen.

“I know you hate everything right now,” She climbed on the already cramped cot, situating herself between Agatha and Rio. “But you’re gonna love me.”

“Why's that?” Agatha rolled her eyes.

“Figured you’d probably want a cigarette right now-“ She rooted around in her pocket.

Agatha smiled. “Jennifer motherfucking Kale, I could kiss you.”

She ignored Rio’s subtle snarl around the mouth of the bottle when she said that.

“So,” Jen finally pulled out what looked like a very colorful USB drive. “Here.”

“What the fuck is that?”

“I stole William’s vape. One of them at least, that kid has a problem.”

“I believe one puff off that would literally kill me.” Agatha groaned.

“Well I don’t keep Marlboro lights on me like in college.” Jen deadpanned. “You want it or not.”

Agatha took the damn thing. “Oh how the mighty have fallen.”

Rio handed the bottle to Jen. “Seeing as I’m sufficiently buzzed now, I gotta go cancel all your events and appearances tomorrow. Think we all need a minute to breathe.”

“Thanks.” Agatha said.

“Of course.” She chirped, crossing the room and out the door.

“Told you so.” Jen smiled and raised the vodka to her lips. “She’s good for the campaign, and for you.”

“Yeah.” Agatha fidgeted with the little pink stick in her hand. “She is.”

Chapter Text

August came out of nowhere with a fucking vengeance.

With the latter half of July being filled with press, interviews, and some fucking embarrassing millennial podcast Rio made her go on, Agatha didn’t have time to think about the debate.

Not what had come out, that was actually all she talked about now. Over a very short span of time, Agatha had become the poster child for reproductive rights in America. Which made her feel a little spiteful because she volunteered with Planned Parenthood in college and had also openly supported a woman’s right to choose for decades. But now that her own child loss was public, she was suddenly a champion of women.

Dumbasses, the lot of them.

But those dumbasses spiked her poll numbers, so she kept talking, kept appearing.

It never got easier to talk about, but she was able to disconnect her politician self from her real one enough that it was bearable. Rio always double-checked that she was okay with the public spectacle of it all. She wasn’t, but she had to take whatever bump in popularity she could get, especially before the DNC.

No, what Agatha didn’t have time to think about was what had come out after the debate.

Fucking Maine.

Neither of them brought it up and she preferred it that way.

A drunken mistake on one of the worst days of her life, that’s all it was.

Since the DNC was in Chicago this year, Rio added more stops to Illinois and the surrounding states. When they were in Iowa, Agatha asked if they’d be near where Rio grew up. Rio smiled and told her no, but that they could visit her childhood home after the campaign was over.

Agatha smiled back and agreed, but they both knew it was a fantasy.

For one, Rio just meant the two of them going. Just her and Agatha.

And two, the end of the campaign hopefully meant Agatha elected president.

The president could not just disappear to a farm in Iowa.

She had just finished a speech in Minnesota, where in Minnesota? She didn’t fucking care. It was a blue state so the crowd was lively and eating up every single word she said. It was days like these that she remembered why she got into politics-

The massive fucking ego boost.

She was about to leave the stage, waving to the thousands of people, smiling like there was nowhere else she’d rather be, when Jen calmly walked onto the stage, followed by Rio.

Agatha kept her smile. “What the fuck?” She said under her breath.

“I’m going to tell you something, and I need you to act concerned.” Jen whispered.

Agatha furrowed her brows. “What is it?”

“Seriously, you cannot look happy. There’s hundreds of cameras on you.” Rio said from where she stood next to Jen.

“Okay.” Agatha let her mouth relax, her smile fading.

Jen took a deep breath. “Your mother had a stroke.”

Her lips immediately curled upwards. “Really?!”

“Cameras.” Rio reminded.

Agatha frowned, or tried to. “Is she dead?”

“No…” Jen spoke. “But she’s in the hospital.”

Then Agatha really frowned. “The bitch survived a stroke?”

“Try to look somber, it’s kinda why we did this on stage.” Rio prompted.

She threw her hand over her mouth like she was in shock. “I am somber. I’m very somber that she isn’t currently in hell being spitroasted by Columbus and Reagan.”

Jen held back a grin. “Aren’t we all? Now we need to get to Boston.”

“Why?”

“Wouldn’t look good for you to stand up your mother on her deathbed.” Rio started ushering her offstage.

“Oh my god.” Agatha’s face morphed into hope. “Do you really think she’s on her deathbed?”

“One can dream.” Rio smiled once they were secluded from the crowd.

A few hours later, as they stood in the hallway of Massachusetts general hospital, the doctor crushed that dream.

“She is by no means on her deathbed, madam vice president.” The doctor comforted. “But she did have a pretty severe stroke.”

Agatha wanted to curse god and ask him why, why must he continue to punish her like this. However, she remained neutral. “So what does that mean?”

“She’s on oxygen because she can’t fully breathe on her own. It was touch and go for a little while but we expect her to make a full recovery.”

Agatha gritted her teeth. “Great.”

“You can go in and see her now.” The doctor closed the chart and walked off.

She looked over to where the rest of her staff sat, waiting for an update. Rio noticed her standing by the door and got up, careful not to draw any attention.

“You good?”

Agatha shook her head. “The bitch is gonna live.” She raised her hands before dropping them to her sides. “Probably gonna outlive us all.”

“Do you want me to come in there with you?”

“No.” She sighed. “I’ll make my obligatory visit and we’ll go.”

Rio nodded and gave her hand a quick squeeze. “Say the word and I’ll come bursting in.”

“She’s an eighty year old woman who’s just stroked out, I think I can take her if necessary.”

Rio looked at her, opening her mouth for a second before closing it, then opening it again. “Yeah, okay.”

Agatha blew out a long breath and quickly entered the room, shutting the door behind her. If she took any more time to think about it, she’d pussy out.

The hospital room was dark, cold, and sterile, very fitting for Evanora in her opinion. There was a bed, a monitor, and a chair. She looked at her mother, seemingly asleep in a white hospital gown, hair more mussed than Agatha’s ever seen it.

She looked frail, unguarded, weak.

Her mother looked weak and Agatha blinked at the sight.

Evanora never looked so-

Old.

Agatha’s heels echoed as she made her way to the edge of the bed, sitting down in the rickety hospital chair, wondering how much time she had to sit here for it to be considered appropriate. She crossed her legs, swaying her foot back and forth.

She peeked at her watch, she’d lasted twenty seconds.

Well, good enough.

Agatha began to stand when her mother made a noise, followed by her eyes peering open, an oxygen mask snug against her face.

She blinked in disbelief. “Agatha?”

It was slightly distorted through the mask, but she could understand. “Mother.”

Agatha sat back down, steepling her fingers in her lap. “You look good.”

Evanora rolled her eyes. “I’m surprised you came.”

“Optics.”

“You still care about those? Could’ve fooled me.”

“Well like mother, like daughter.”

Evanora raised a shaky finger, accusing. “If you were like me, you’d be better. Your best was always my average.”

Agatha let out a bitter puff of air. “You didn’t call.” She tilted her head. “After the debate. Figured you would’ve wanted to gloat.”

“Stark’s effort was admirable, yours however…”

Agatha didn’t need her to finish the sentence. She knew the rest, she’d heard it all her life.

That she was unruly.

Disobedient.

Stubborn.

Difficult.

Selfish.

Evil.

“I really admire your consistency.” Agatha grinned. “Because most people would look back on their actions after a near death experience and try to make amends. But not you.”

“What do I have to amend for?” Evanora defensively questioned.

Agatha briefly looked down at her hands. “Do you remember when I was seven and spilled juice on my dress? It was frilly and white and the lace cost a fortune. I think it was at a fundraiser for father.” She looked at her mother. “And despite the fact that I was a child, you said I did it on purpose. You backhanded me without a second thought. Then again when I started crying.”

“Spare the rod, spoil the child.” Was Evanora’s reasoning.

“What about when I was ten and I skinned my knee? You yelled at me for bleeding on the rug.”

“It was a nice rug, Agatha.”

“Or when I was fourteen and you caught me smoking on the balcony. You locked the fridge and pantry for a month so I had nothing to eat. I survived off school lunches and gum.”

“You should thank me for that, you went from a four to a two.”

There was no reasoning with her, but somehow Agatha convinced herself otherwise.

“And when I was seventeen? Stacy, I think her name was. Barnes or Burke-”

“Burke.” Evanora croaked.

Of course she fucking knew.

“When I was seventeen and you caught me with my hand up Stacy Burke’s skirt,” Agatha felt the rage surfacing. “And you screamed at me until you lost your voice. Pretty sure I still have a tiny scar under my jaw from where your nail nicked me mid slap.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“And you hired men to kidnap me the next night, you fucking sent me away.”

“It was summer break, practically a vacation.” Evanora looked bored. “Do you have a point?”

“You have a fuckton of amends to make, specifically to me.”

“I have nothing to feel sorry for.”

Her jaw steeled. “I cannot believe it's your blood coursing through my veins.”

“Me either.”

There was no fucking hope here, in her fifty-one years on this planet there was never any hope. She needed to accept that and move on with her life.

“A pleasure as always mother, rot in hell.” She spoke, preparing to leave.

“Your son deserved better.” Her mother muttered.

The words hit her ears as she stood. “What was that?”

“I always thought so.”

“What do you mean ‘always’?”

Evanora chuckled as much as she could with the oxygen mask. “You don’t honestly think you hid the pregnancy that well, did you?”

“You knew?”

“I was not daft enough to believe you’d behave yourself on your own.”

Agatha loomed over the bed, staring down at her mother. “You had me followed?”

“Had to make sure you wouldn’t sully our name. You did, obviously.”

“You knew I had a child, your grandson, and you never thought to tell me?”

“I considered it, but once you got into politics I figured the dirt would come in handy.” Evanora casually explained. “And I was correct.”

Suddenly Stark having records made sense. “You kept my son’s death records as collateral?”

“He was never alive to begin with.” She dismissively waved her hand.

Agatha had to get out of here before she did something stupid like strangle her. “Goodbye, mother.”

“Did you ever consider it was god's will?”

Agatha willed her tears to stay in her eyes. “God’s will?”

“To take that boy away, somewhere safe away from you.” Evanora smirked. “Protect that poor innocent soul from being subjected to a life of sin with a mother who’d only disappoint him.”

“Nicholas would've been loved and safe. That’s more than I ever got from you.”

“You cannot love evil. You cannot keep evil safe, only keep others safe from it. You say you hate me, you say you resent my blood in your veins. But I made you, you are no better than me. You are the one that poisoned this family.”

“The bloodline went to shit long before me.”

“I never should’ve had children.” Evanora looked up at the ceiling. “They ruin everything.”

“That we can agree on.”

“You think you’re superior to me?” She zeroed her gaze onto Agatha, making sure her words stung. “Who do you have? You will die alone, unloved and unmemorable. A blip on the radar of this otherwise perfect country.”

Fuck, she’d hit every single one of Agatha’s insecurities with terrifying precision.

The dam finally flooded, the tears falling to her cheeks.

“You know mother, you're right.” She sniffled. “I’m not any better than you.”

Her eyes flitted to the tube of Evanora’s oxygen mask, and without considering the weight or the consequence, she grabbed it. Her fingers moved on instinct, pinching the tube to stop the airflow.

A second later her mother’s eyes went wide in fear. “Agatha-”

“If I’m evil, shit, it must be hereditary.” She spoke it so matter of factly, and almost to herself.

Evanora gasped. “Agatha!”

Her fingers relaxed for a moment, letting the air hiss through the tube once more. She watched her mother take a big inhale of oxygen.

“I’m never going to be good enough, am I?”

“You were never good to begin with.” Evanora choked out.

She nodded, letting the sentiment wash over her.

And just like that, she came to the conclusion that always lurked in the back of her mind, that she always wished she had the strength to do.

Agatha let her hand scrunch the tube again.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Her mother reached out a limp hand to smack Agatha’s away.

She leaned over, tightening her fingers around the delicate plastic of the tube. Staring daggers into Evanora’s eyes.

“God’s will.”

The old hag made a few more attempts to swat her away, but it was useless, her body was too debilitated to fight back.

“Ag- Ag-” Her mother’s voice tried, but her eyes were getting heavy, her hand dropping to the side.

“At least you’re not dying alone.” Agatha uttered, waiting for Evanora to stop moving. Listening to the beeping of the monitor slowly dwindle.

By far the most humane means of murder, Agatha thought.

She didn’t stab her, though she deserved it.

Didn’t beat her, though she deserved it.

Didn’t break her neck, though she deserved it.

No, this was the most peaceful way to go.

Like going to sleep.

Eternally.

Her hand didn’t relax again until the monitor’s beep was just one flat line.

She dropped the tube like it was ablaze, almost flinching it away.

Agatha sniffled again, looking down at her mother.

Her mother who could now longer hurt her.

She sat back down, trying to find the guilt or the remorse that she knew should’ve followed.

But she didn’t feel it.

She didn’t feel anything.

Agatha felt almost numb.

Numb to her mother’s cruelty and numb to her own actions.

Actually, that’s not true. She did feel something-

Relief.

She sat there for a minute, maybe two, before reaching over and pressing the call button rapidly. Feigning panic.

She rolled her shoulders back and flung herself over her mother’s body, burrowing her head against her own arm, sobbing.

A nurse rushed in, gasping at the sight and calling for a doctor.

More people rushed in as Agatha continued crying, it wasn't that hard to fake at this point. Not after fifty-one years of torture.

But Agatha was nothing if not a convincing performer.

“Mother!” She wailed. “Please, help her!”

Yeah, there was no helping this bitch.

Another set of scrubs pulled her away as the medical staff worked.

“I don’t understand, was her oxygen disrupted?” The doctor asked.

The nurse shook her head. “No, her oxygen was fine.”

“She must’ve suffered another stroke, or maybe there was a brain bleed we didn’t catch.”

“You didn’t catch it?!” Agatha yelled. “She’s my mother!”

“Madam vice president-” The doctor tried to speak.

“She’s gone!” Agatha crumpled against the wall, acting as though she were in agony.

And these imbeciles were eating it up.

Her acting must’ve been top notch because the next thing she knew, Rio and Jen rushed in.

Jen immediately walked over, throwing her arms around her. “I’m so sorry. I know you two had a complicated relationship-”

Agatha rested her chin on Jen’s shoulder, lowly whispering. “Jen, just let me work.”

She released Jen and looked back to the doctor. “I can’t believe she’s-” She hiccupped. “She’s really gone!”

“I’m so sorry madam vice president.” The doctor solemnly stated.

She wiped her face. “What- what happens next?”

Rio just stared, assessing what the hell was going on in this hospital room.

“Um, we send her down to the morgue. They do an autopsy to find out her exact cause of death-”

An autopsy was not happening.

Could they find out she suffocated out of the blue through an autopsy?

Agatha didn’t fucking know and she was not about to find out.

“No.” She resolutely stated. “No. My mother was a devout christian, it’d be against her beliefs to be sliced open in death.”

Bald faced fucking lie.

But religious grounds usually made medical professionals back the hell off.

“Madam vice president-”

Time to swing her dick around.

“Absolutely not.” She insisted. “And if you try, I will sue this hospital on the basis of religious discrimination.”

The doctor conceded. “Yes, ma’am. No autopsy.”

A lawsuit always worked like a charm.

“We’ll just say her cause of death was a stroke.” Another person in a white coat added.

“Thank you.” Agatha nodded. “My mother deserves her dignity.”

No, no she didn’t.

But she couldn’t risk it looking like she had just murdered her.

“If you want to come with me,” The doctor spoke. “We just need you to fill out some paperwork, ma’am.”

Several documents later, Agatha, Rio, and Jen left. Everyone else had already gone after Evanora flatlined.

They climbed into the armored SUV, riding in silence as Agatha used Jen’s compact to fix her makeup.

“I guess we’re staying in Boston for a few days.” Jen said.

Agatha closed the compact. “Why?”

Jen raised her brows in disbelief. “To plan your mother’s funeral?”

“Fuck.” She groaned. “Even in death she’s a pain in my ass.”

Rio hadn’t said much at the hospital. Even still, she just looked at Agatha, examining her.

“You can miss the first day or two of the DNC, people will understand.” Jen assured. “You’ll look like the perfect grieving daughter.”

Agatha brightly smiled. “Oh my god.” She looked at Rio. “Think of all the sympathy I’m gonna get.”

Rio blinked. “Yeah.”

Well that should’ve elicited a much bigger reaction.

Agatha brushed it off. Rio didn’t know and Agatha didn’t plan on telling her. Not because she was afraid Rio would talk, but because she was afraid it’d change how Rio saw her.

Hard to be a wounded dove when the wounded dove just committed cold blooded murder.

“I’ll call Wanda to draft up a press release, you know, we ask for privacy at this time. Blah, blah, blah.” Jen tapped on her phone.

Agatha leaned over her seat, knocking on the partition so the driver would lower it.

“Hi.” She smiled. “Could you do me a favor and play some music?”

He nodded. “Of course ma’am, any requests?”

And she could think of no better time, no better song-

“Are you familiar with No One Mourns The Wicked?”

Chapter Text

Agatha definitely murdered her mother.

It was clear to Rio from the moment she stepped into that hospital room.

Not because of Agatha’s acting, that was actually fucking superb.

No, it was obvious because Rio read her in a second.

Besides the fact that Agatha very openly hated her mother, her death didn’t make any sense. Call it a stroke, call it a brain bleed, whatever. Rio’s money was on Agatha fucking around with her oxygen since it’d be silent yet extremely effective. And the way Agatha fought the autopsy by leveraging her power?

Hot.

No.

It was obvious.

And hot.

Rio stayed quiet the rest of the day out of fear of spooking Agatha by confessing she knew about the murder, and that it also turned her on.

If she chose to analyze that too closely, she might start feeling a little icky about herself getting turned on by murder. That was not what one should get turned on by. But fuck, if the thought of Agatha stealing Evanora’s last breath didn’t make Rio’s pulse spike.

She wish she could’ve seen it, been there, helped-

Anything.

But instead, she bided her time.

The first day in Boston was spent organizing Agatha’s childhood home.

No, not home. Mansion. It was a goddamn mansion.
“How much money does your family have?” Rio gawked as the entire team walked into the grand foyer. Everything was ornate, antique, priceless, polished. The walls were covered in what looked to be expensive paintings, dark wood trim lining the hallway. The home was sprawling, Rio couldn’t actually take it all in at once, there was too much to look at.

Agatha sighed, eyes darting around like bad memories would jump out and attack her around every corner. “I don’t know, how much do the Kennedy’s have? Around there.”

Rio googled that question later, the answer?

Between 258 and 500 million dollars.

The rest of the team fielded calls and reorganized appearances, most importantly, the DNC. While Agatha went through room, after room, after room, tagging things with different colored sticky notes to be taken away or put into storage by movers. After several hours of being hunched over in the kitchen, Rio got curious enough to find her.

Agatha was in the living room, or one of them. To be quite honest Rio was not sure what room this was. It was on the ground floor, a huge grand piano off to the side in front of french double doors leading to the patio and the pool. Two settees were placed in the center of the room, a coffee table, and a fireplace.

Rio slowly approached, watching as Agatha stood by the piano, breathing shallow breaths.

“You-” Rio started.

“I’m fine.” Agatha said. “You have to stop asking me that every other second, it’s driving me insane.”

Okay, so whatever this room was, did not hold happy feelings for Agatha.

Got it.

“Sorry, you’re just kind of catatonic right now.” She playfully grinned. “Not usually the sign of someone who’s fine.”

Agatha kept staring at that stupid piano. “I hate this thing. Mother loved it.”

“Did she play?”

“No, she forced me to. Every time they’d have a political dinner or fundraiser she made me play for all their friends and colleagues.” Agatha ran a hand through her hair, pushing it behind her ear. “Made me take lessons on the shitty upright one in the den.”

“The gaull.” Rio deadpanned.

“She loved this piano. Some bullshit about it surviving the french revolution, which she definitely did not see the irony in.”

“It’s very pretty.” But Rio wasn’t looking at the piano, she was only looking at Agatha. At the way her eyes clouded over, stormy with remembrance of whatever happened in here decades ago.

“Yeah it is.” Agatha murmured before rushing out the double doors onto the patio.

“Agatha?” Rio called out, only to be met with Agatha storming back in.

She had a mallet in her hand, one left by one of the groundskeepers, the kind used to hammer stakes into the ground.

“Agatha?” Rio asked again, now a little more concerned.

“It’s very pretty.” Agatha repeated before raising the mallet and smashing the soundboard inside, followed by the lid prop. The lid of the piano crashed down, but Agatha had already moved onto the keys, bashing them until they were shattered and clattering to the floral area rug below.

Rio didn’t say anything, just stood out of her way. Maybe it was a kind of catharsis for her. She watched as Agatha kept going for longer than necessary, whacking the thing long after the damage had already been done.

She let out small grunts of frustration as she swung the mallet again and again. It was only when Rio saw her hand tremble on the next swing and her shoulders slump inward, that she came behind her. Gently taking the mallet from her hand and setting it on the ground.

Agatha didn’t acknowledge it as Rio came in front of her and embraced her. Agatha didn’t acknowledge that she was crying. Agatha didn’t acknowledge the way she melted into Rio’s arms and tucked her face in the crook of Rio’s neck.

“I’m sorry.” Rio quietly stated, devoid of anything else to comfort her with.

And Agatha seemed to know what Rio meant. That she wasn’t sorry about Evanora dying. Not in the way said to those in mourning. No, she knew Rio meant it as an apology for what she’s been through, what she’s endured.

A couple minutes later, footsteps echoed through the house, coming closer. Agatha scrambled away, wiping her face. Rio dropped her arms, but wished she hadn’t, wished she could’ve kept them around her longer.

“Okay, so I got off the phone with….” Jen trailed off as she looked around the room. The piano caved in, keys scattered on the ground, chunks of ivory strewn about. “What the hell happened in here?”

Agatha chuckled. “I was destroying my mother’s most prized possession.”

“Yeah and I watched.” Rio added.

Jen’s eyes flickered between the two. “....okay?”

The second day in Boston was spent planning the funeral.

Evanora had strict instructions for how Agatha was to prepare everything.

Evanora wanted an open casket, so Agatha had her cremated.

Evanora wanted a public service with as many high ranking politicians as possible, so Agatha decided to go with an intimate private wake.

Evanora wanted bright white calla lilies, Agatha chose cream colored daisies.

“They’re a poverty flower.” Agatha smiled as she signed the receipt. “That’s what mother always said.”

“Even nature is divvied up by class?” Rio smirked.

“Baby, everything is.”

Rio hadn’t heard the term of endearment in far too long, what with everything going on. They had barely touched in the past few days aside from her consoling Agatha, they hadn’t even slept in the same bed. Rio missed Agatha’s snoring and the way her hair always blanketed Rio’s face. She felt her cheeks get hot at the pet name, a blush coating them.

Day three in Boston was the wake. Tomorrow they’d all leave for Chicago after Agatha met with the estate lawyer. Turns out, you can pack up someone’s entire existence in under a week if you have unlimited funds.

The DNC had already started and Rio had Lilia doing most of the heavy lifting when it came to public appearances.

The wake was held in the east wing of the manor, yes, this fucking monstrosity of wealth had separate wings. There were drinks and hors d'oeuvres served by waiters. Altogether there were around one hundred guests, which Agatha said was small compared to the original invite list Evanora had drafted that included most of Washington.

Rio mostly stuck to the rest of the team, finding that interacting with creepy old conservative men often ended with them putting their hands on the small of her back. The old women weren’t any better, insisting that she’d be perfect for their sons. So she nursed her gin and tonic in the corner and subtly drooled over Agatha.

The veep almost never wore dresses, let alone ones that cinched at the waist, ones that clung to her hips. It was black and moderately conservative with a high neckline and a hem that came down to her knees. It was sleeveless and effortlessly tasteful in an old money kind of way.

She had stockings on underneath and Rio desperately wanted to know if they were clipped to a garter belt. Her heels were slingbacks, and despite the fact that almost every woman here was wearing heels, Rio could still pick out the exact cadence of Agatha’s. Her hair was in a neat ponytail, quite possibly the tamest Rio’s ever seen it, with her gray streak coiffed into a swoop that framed her face.

Yes, Rio was absolutely going to hell for ogling her boss while at her boss’s mom’s funeral. But that was a problem for the future, right now Rio just wanted to stare. And she did, for most of the afternoon and into the evening as Agatha worked the crowd and faked a smile or a laugh.

“The place is beautiful, dear.” An elderly woman told Agatha. “But daisies?”

Agatha feigned concern. “I was just as shocked, but it’s what mother wanted.”

Rio laughed to herself as she pretended to listen to William yap about the most ethical ways of body disposal.

“I think I’d want to be a tree.” He said. “Just throw my body in the dirt.”

“You’re a fetus,” Rio rolled her eyes. “Why are you worrying about this now?”

William began answering, but her attention was caught at the arrival of more people. Namely, Tony Stark and his wife.

Had they been invited, Rio wouldn’t give it a second thought. But they weren’t, literally publicly, they were asked not to come.

“Shit.” She groaned, leaving her drink and the boy in the corner.

She felt a pull on her arm, being spun around. “I better be having a stroke right now.” Agatha whispered.

“I don’t think you can say that considering the circumstances.” Rio whispered back.

Agatha peeked over to the foyer. “Jesus, it’s the whole motley crew.”

Rio followed her eye line, being met with Tony, his wife, and now Hela. “Fuck.”

“Okay, I greet Stark and his praying mantis of a wife, you take Hela.”

“Why do I have to take Hela?”

“Because it’d look bad if I didn’t say something to Stark and I’d rather not have to deal with all three of them at once.”

“Fine, divide and conquer.” She agreed as they went their separate ways.

Rio ushered Hela over to the bar, making surface level chit chat while Agatha spoke with Stark. The first thirty minutes were bearable, but the last?

She begrudgingly followed Hela into the library, continuing to listen as this woman bragged about the campaign and herself.

Of all the things she loathed about her job, and there were many, listening to megalomaniacs on a constant basis was one of the worst.

“I’ve been meaning to give you props on the debate.” Hela said as she stood in front of one of the several bookcases lining the wall.

“No thanks to you.” Rio muttered, standing on the other side of the room.

“And now Evanora’s dead and I’m sure the veep is just so torn up.” Hela deadpanned. “All that sympathy is temporary.”

“Good thing my candidate relies on more than just emotional reactions for support.”

“I hope you aren’t planning on dragging Evanora’s name through the dirt.” Hela spoke as she crossed the room. “Could be considered as disrespectful of the dead.”

Rio chuckled. “You just don’t want it to look like Stark gave an abuser a spot in his administration. Which is fucking futile because I doubt she she was the only one.”

“There’s no evidence for Agatha's claims.” Hela tilted her head. “Then it’d just be her word against his, when’s the last time that worked out well for a woman?”

“Every time I see you I think, ‘there is no way she could become an even bigger cunt.’” Rio said in awe. “And every time, you prove me wrong.”

“Just make sure Agatha keeps her mouth shut. The public doesn’t need her lies and baseless accusations.”

Rio’s entire body flooded with rage.

Especially after the marks Evanora had left the last time they were in Boston, the way Agatha reacted to that fucking piano.

“I’d advise you not to say that again.”

Hela smirked. “Or what?”

Rio balled her hands into fists, keeping herself in check.

“Everyone who knew Evanora knew her daughter was difficult. I mean can you really blame the woman?”

She saw it happen before her brain knew what it had done.

Hela clasped a hand over her face in shock, wide eyed.

Rio looked at her hand, now red, kind of tingly.

Oh, she hadn’t kept herself in check.

She had slapped the bitch.

God that felt good, she’d been wanting to do that for a while.

Rio didn’t feel particularly guilty, more so grateful that nobody else was around. She dropped her hand. “I told you not to say it again.”

“You fucking-”

“Say anything and I’ll deny it.”

Sure she’d slapped her, but not hard enough that there was a print, just a little red blooming on her cheek. Almost imperceptible.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Rio shrugged. “I went to public school.”

Hela scoffed and stormed off, leaving Rio alone.

Yes, it was unprofessional.

More unprofessional than she’d ever been.

Besides of course sleeping with her boss.

Caring about her boss.

Caring about her more than she should.

Rio would have never done that for another candidate.

Rio wouldn't have done a lot of the things she’s done for another candidate.

Never dreamed of running off to Maine with another candidate.

Fucking Maine.

Rio slumped against a bookcase.

The cottage and the crown moulding.

The checkout girl and the marriage.

Maine Agatha and her love for vodka.

Her love for a lot of things.

And Rio was sure that she loved a lot of things too.

She didn’t need Maine to know that.

That she loved-

“Rio?” Agatha called.

She pushed herself off the shelf, straightening her blazer and following the sound of Agatha’s voice.

She found her in the foyer, watching as Stark left with his wife and Hela.

Agatha looked at her, speaking through a tight smile. “You have any clue why Hela just came up to me and Stark saying you slapped her?”

“Doesn’t sound like me.” Rio tucked her tongue against her cheek.

“Really?”

“Sounds like a racial bias.”

Agatha pursed her lips, a tiny grin forming. “I’m trusting you had a good reason.”

“I had the best reason.” Rio said without hesitation.

You.

Rio furrowed her brows. “What’d Stark want?”

“To look like a good man.” Agatha sighed. “Give his false condolences. Make sure I wouldn’t talk about my mother’s many, many indiscretions.”

“And?”

“I don’t want to talk about her anymore. You can only say so much bad shit has happened to you before you’re the victim. Victims aren’t strong leaders.” She swallowed. “They’re pitied.”

“I don’t see you as a victim.”

Agatha cleared her throat. “I think it’s time to start wrapping this charade up.”

As the sun finished setting, the last of the guests left. The caterers cleaned up while the rest of the team sat by the pool, passing around a bottle of very expensive wine that Wanda had stolen. Agatha had disappeared a while ago, and Rio wanted to give her the space she probably needed. But dammit, she missed her. She missed Agatha and it was more than just bodily.

She saw Agatha every fucking day and she still missed her.

Once the mosquitoes started attacking, Rio excused herself, wandering aimlessly through the cavernous halls of the estate. She didn’t even know where she was when she passed by a door and heard shuffling. Rio stopped in her tracks, pressing her ear to the thick wooden door, trying to hear anything.

After a beat, she gave up, opening the door. Jesus, her eyes burned. It was an office. Obviously a man’s by the amount of ugly leather furniture and plaid accents. There were animal heads stuffed and mounted on the walls along with different photos of the same man with various politicians throughout the years. She looked forward and found Agatha sitting at the desk, feet kicked up, glass in hand. There was a bookcase behind her with an American flag draped across it.

“Wow.” Rio said.

Agatha pulled out a bottle of scotch, topping herself off. “I know.”

“Did your mother never touch this room again after your father died?”

“Nah.” Agatha shook her head. “Just buried it like everything else.”

Rio rounded the desk, spotting one of the two framed photos that sat on top.

“Is that-”

“My father with Nixon? Yes.”

“Who’s the woman? Evanora when she was young and possibly not evil?” Rio pointed to the other photo right next to it.

Agatha glared at that one. “My father and his mistress, Cindy. Or maybe it was Sandy. Sarah? Sally? I don’t know, I only met her a couple of times. Nice woman.”

“You met your father’s mistress?”

“He had a photo of her in the home where his family lived, they were obviously pretty serious.” Agatha almost laughed.

“And your mother was just…fine with that?”

“What was she gonna do? Leave him? Leave the money and the Harkness name?”

“The things people will do for status.” Rio leaned against the desk.

“Eh, I think the things people do for love are so much worse.”

“What do you mean?”

Agatha leaned back in the big leather chair. “Take Rogers for instance, he’s a one term president for love. That’s gotta sting.”

“How many drinks have you had?”

“Just the one, but I’m feeling particularly cynical.”

Rio grinned. “The booze at the wake not strong enough?”

“Wanted the good stuff, father always hoarded it.”

“$200 wine isn’t the good stuff?”

“Not even close, baby.” She winked.

Her heart fluttered at that stupid wink, that fucking name.

Rio reached over and took the glass, sipping it. “Fuck, that’s smooth.”

Agatha opened the bottom drawer of the desk, fishing out another glass. “Told you so.”

Another glass of very expensive, very old scotch later, they were still talking. Rio sat on the desk with Agatha’s legs slung over her lap.

“And I literally had to force this fully grown man to go out there.” Rio laughed, recounting one of her various campaign stories.

Agatha snorted. “He was too coked out to debate?”

Rio tilted her head. “Well he’s governor now, so…”

She cackled, throwing her head back.

Rio loved that sound, and the way her nose scrunched a little when it happened.

Once she had settled again, through faint laughter, Agatha asked a question. “Why’d you slap Hela?”

Rio shook her head. “Not important.”

“C’mon! Did she make a move on you? Insult your prowess?” Agatha giggled.

“No, no. My ego is not that fragile.”

“Then what was it? I know she probably deserved it, so out with it.”

“She definitely deserved it.”

Agatha lightly pushed her heel into Rio’s stomach, not enough to do anything other than annoy her. “Riooooo….”

“It’s nothing-”

“Rioooo.” She sing-songed. “Tell me.”

“Agatha.”

“Rio.” She pouted.

“She just said some shit.” Rio said over the rim of her drink.

“About?”

Rio let out a deep breath. “You.”

“Me?”

“You.”

“What about me?” Agatha got serious.

“Just you. “ Rio fidgeted with her glass. “You and your mother, and I just got upset.”

Agatha’s legs left her lap as she sat up. “Upset about what?”

“The abuse.” Rio left it at that, if she tried to get specifics she might get worked up again.

“Why on earth would you slap her over that?” Agatha scrunched her face.

And the scotch was making her warm, and Agatha’s eyes were so earnest. Like she couldn’t compute a world where someone might care enough to defend her. So Rio spoke without thinking, she spoke without considering the consequences.

“The things people do for love, right?” She kept her gaze pointed towards her hands as she said it.

Not quite a love confession, not not a love confession.

Agatha’s hand came under her chin, tilting it up so Rio looked at her. “Don’t.”

Rio blinked.

Don’t what?

Don’t commit random acts of violence?

Don’t defend her?

No.

Don’t love her.

Rio stared into two pools of cloudy blue. She needed to change the subject, needed to distract her.

“How’d she die?”

Agatha’s hand dropped. “You know how she died.”

“No, I don’t think I do.”

She did, but she wanted to hear Agatha say it.

“She had a stroke.”

“Yeah, and she lived.”

“So she had another.”

Rio set her glass down, hooking her ankle around the chair and tugging it forward, one hand settling on the arm. She leaned in. “No she didn’t.”

Agatha pursed her lips, a breath away from touching Rio’s. “What are you implying?”

Rio smiled, though it wasn’t one of joy. “Baby, we both know you can fool everyone else. But when it comes to me, I see you.”

“So say it.” She easily replied. “Say what you think I did.”

“I think you provided mercy.”

Agatha’s eyes crinkled, almost studying that response. “Mercy?”

“If I was alone with her? If I’d had the chance?” Rio darkly chuckled. “I wouldn’t have been as nice…”

“Rio-”

“Suddenly the slapping seems pretty benign, right?” She flickered her line of sight to Agatha’s lips. “Compared to murder.”

The absolute second she finished speaking, Agatha closed the distance, grabbing her head and pulling it to meet her. Rio gave in instantly, settling her hands on Agatha’s wrists and returning it.

She’d lost track of how many days it had been since she kissed Agatha, too fucking many.

Her lips felt like coming home after a rough day, her skin was a familiar comfort.

She pushed back lightly, just enough to get her mouth on Agatha’s neck. Just enough to get more. Rio wanted to take, wanted to give Agatha a reason to put down all the weight she was carrying.

“Baby.” Agatha softly gasped, fingers tangling in her hair.

Rio dropped to her knees, yanking Agatha’s hips to the edge. “Say it.”

“Shit.” Agatha’s stocking-clad legs slung over her shoulders. “I killed her.”

She felt a bolt of heat shoot through her.

Finally.

And Rio thought she deserved a reward as she kissed Agatha’s calf, then her knee, then her thigh.

“How?” She asked, pushing her dress up. When it was finally bunched enough and out of the way, Rio nearly wept. A garter belt, the stockings were clipped to a garter belt, two pieces of black fabric molded to Agatha’s thighs. Dainty strings connecting it to her waist. Dark green lace panties being the fucking focal point.

“Oxygen.” Agatha huffed, pushing her head forward.

“Uh-uh.” Rio looked up. “Exact details.”

“You’re fucked up, you know that?”

“I’ve made peace with it.” She answered, pulling the lace aside, pressing her lips just above Agatha’s clit.

“Fuck-”

“Tell me.” Rio demanded, feeling herself get wet just at the prospect of hearing what Agatha had done.

Agatha’s hands pushed her harder this time, and she complied, opening her mouth.

“I grabbed her oxygen tube.” Agatha gasped as Rio’s tongue made contact, running through her.

“Good girl.” Rio praised against her already soaked cunt, at fucking murder. “Then?”

“I twisted it in my hand.” Agatha’s head dropped against the chair. “She struggled to breathe.”

And that’s when Agatha’s thighs tightened around Rio’s neck, constricting her breathing. If Agatha was trying to set the scene, mimic her murder, it was really, really working for Rio.

“Mmmh.” She hummed, obediently eating out the women currently strangling her.

Agatha’s fingers scratched at Rio’s scalp. “And I heard her try to get air…” Her thighs tensed further.

They were like two cobras coiling around her neck and Rio didn’t care if Agatha really would kill her, she’d die happy.

“So I let her get a little more, I know it’s impolite to play with your prey but-” Agatha spoke as Rio’s lips came to her clit. “God!”

Her head felt light, but it only heightened Agatha’s taste, the feel of her.

“Then I-” Agatha’s voice had gone breathy. “I did it again- the, the tube.”

Fuck, Rio wished had could’ve watched.

Her hands were steady on Agatha’s hips despite her own lack of oxygen.

“I watched as she suffocated.”

Rio’s clit pulsed. The murder, the choking, Agatha.

It was all too much.

It wasn’t enough.

Her skin was straining against itself, the pressure from Agatha’s thighs was brutal. But she didn’t stop, didn’t tap out, didn’t pull back. She’d sooner pass out than stop.

“She tried hitting my hand away, and I just watched.”

Rio grazed her teeth against Agatha’s clit, the way she knew Agatha loved.

“Fuck, baby!” Agatha whined, arching her back, clamping her thighs together.

Rio did briefly worry about her windpipe being crushed, but it was small in comparison to the euphoria she got from this.

From salvation.

Agatha originally meant it as a remark, a quip.

Rio fucking didn’t

Between Agatha’s thighs was the closest thing to the gates of heaven Rio would ever experience.

“I- I held the tube until I was sure she was dead.”

Fuck, Rio was dripping at this point.

Her vision was beginning to produce little spots.

If Rio didn’t get air soon, she would pass out.

Which, honestly, was not a deal breaker for her.

But if she passed out, she couldn’t do more.

She couldn’t fuck Agatha the way she wanted to.

The instructions were pretty clear; get Agatha off, Rio got to breathe.

She harshly sucked her clit, digging her thumbs into Agatha’s hip bones. The reaction was immediate, the veep’s body going rigid as a moan tore from her throat. Her hands nearly ripping Rio’s hair from the root.

Any pain only fueled her further, flicking her tongue as she sucked, prolonging Agatha’s orgasm.

Rio’s whole body stuttered, coming untouched. Purely from Agatha’s words, her sounds, the pressure on her neck.

Rio questioned if she’d ever not come from eating pussy. As long as it was Agatha’s, she didn’t like her chances.

“Rio!” She shouted as her hips bucked against Rio’s mouth, messily trying to ride it out.

A minute later, her legs went limp.

Out of pure survival instinct, Rio lifted her head, inhaling as much air as she could get.

“Was that too much?” Agatha looked down, concern lacing her tone.

Rio panted a few times. “Can you do that every time?”

Agatha smirked. “The murder or the suffocation?”

“Both. Either.” Rio tilted her head up, stretching for a kiss.

Agatha met her halfway, licking into her mouth and tasting herself. “Body count might get a little high if I commit murder every time we fuck.”

“It’d be hot though.”

“Would you still visit me in prison?”

Rio smiled. “I’d count down the days, baby.”

Agatha kissed her again, slower. It was still passionate but it wasn’t rushed like normal.

“I killed someone. You’re okay with that?” She asked.

Rio looked at her as though nothing else mattered. “That wasn’t killing.”

She reached behind herself to the desk, finding an old letter opener. It was sharp and looked to be an antique.

“Who needs this?” Rio furrowed her brows as she held up what was basically a knife.

“It belonged to some historical person several hundred years ago.” Agatha rolled her eyes.

“Wealth is wasted on the rich.” Rio held it with precision as she brought it against Agatha’s thigh.

“Rio…”

“You trust me?”

Agatha didn’t falter. “Yes.”

The corners of her mouth pulled upwards, moving the letter opener along the delicate skin. “That wasn’t killing, baby.”

She shuddered. “What was it, then?”

Rio methodically wedged the blade between her hip and the lace of her underwear. “It was justice.”

She pulled the blade up, slicing through the fabric and doing the same on the other side. She threw the letter opener to the floor and pulled the now destroyed lace off Agatha, discreetly shoving it in the pocket of her suit jacket.

“Justice?”

“I would’ve been worse.”

“Do you mean that?”

Rio’s voice dropped, holding Agatha’s gaze. “I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t.”

“You’d…?” She didn’t finish the sentence.

So Rio did it for her. “I’d kill for you, Agatha.”

In a heartbeat.

Without batting an eyelash.

At the snap of Agatha’s fingers.

Because if it was for her, Rio knew it was for good reason.

Now that was a love confession.

Agatha didn’t say anything, but Rio swore she knew what she was thinking.

For me?

Instead, she shot out of the chair, bringing Rio up with her, kissing her. This one was like the others. Rushed, messy, as if Agatha was physically saying what her words couldn’t.

Rio’s back met the edge of the desk, her hands grabbing Agatha’s hair. That stupid fucking ponytail. She couldn’t run her hands through it.

She broke away. “Take down your hair, wait here.”

Rio nearly sprinted across the room.

“Where are you going?”

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, my dick does not come attached to my person.” Rio explained. “Bend over the desk, gimme two minutes.”

She didn’t wait for confirmation, just ran down the hall.

Rio returned in under two minutes, which was a feat because her room was up a floor and in another wing but the need she felt apparently made her superhuman. When she returned, Agatha’s hair was down but she wasn’t bent over the desk. Instead she sat on top of it, back to the door, swinging her legs like she was bored.

Like she hadn’t just gotten head as she confessed to murder.

Rio needed to ruin her. Make it so that she couldn’t think about or feel anything but Rio.

She rounded the desk, standing between Agatha’s legs. “I thought I told you to bend over.”

Agatha’s hands reached for the zipper of her slacks, deftly undoing them. “I thought you’d want to see me.”

Rio inhaled a sharp breath at that.

They still didn’t do any position where they faced each other, not often.

And she knew why, Agatha didn’t like the intimacy.

Yet, here she was, suggesting it.

As close to a love confession as Rio would ever receive from Agatha Harkness.

They worked in tandem, Rio kicking off her shoes while Agatha pulled down her pants and underwear in one go. She shrugged off her blazer before reaching for the harness, Agatha’s fingers unbuttoning her shirt and pushing it off her shoulders.

The gravity of being left in just a harness and tank top hit Rio as she stood in the office of a man she’d never met.

At least it wasn’t a church, she reasoned.

Rio worked the top of Agatha’s dress down, kissing down her neck, shoulders, and sternum. She pulled the dress the rest of the way off, admiring Agatha in her garter belt, stockings, and lacy green bra.

The sight alone was worth killing for.

She left the heels on too, something about the ensemble made her feral.

Agatha threaded the strap through the O-ring, giving it an extra tug to make sure it was secure. Making sure it hit Rio’s clit as a result.

“Mmh.” Rio grunted, grabbing the length and lining herself up.

Agatha stopped her, “Wait.” And reached over for the lube that Rio did not think she’d need for this.

She raised her brows but didn’t say anything.

Agatha caught on. “I’m almost fifty-fucking-two, shut up.”

Yes, and thank god for that.

Rio smiled and stayed quiet, watching as she coated the strap.

Once the tiny bottle was thrown off to the side, Agatha wrapped her hands over Rio’s shoulders, canting her hips upwards.

Rio pushed forward as the length disappeared, until their hips were flush with one another.

“Oh fuck.” Agatha groaned, interlocking her legs around Rio’s back.

Rio had one arm wrapped around Agatha’s waist, the other holding her thigh. She leaned in until her lips brushed the shell of Agatha’s ear. “Tell me again.”

She pulled out almost completely, until just the tip was still inside.

Agatha’s eyes fluttered. “I killed her.”

Rio snapped her hips forward again.

She squealed, fingers gripping into Rio’s back, biting her lip to stay quiet.

“Good girl.” Rio harshly thrusted. “Then what?”

She made Agatha repeat everything in excruciating detail. Hanging on her every word as she fucked her with a brutality Rio wasn’t aware she could conjure.

Two more orgasms later and Agatha could still speak, was still able to think. And Rio wasn’t leaving without reducing this woman to a puddle.

She pulled out as Agatha whimpered at the loss. “Turn over.”

“Baby-”

Rio steeled her hands on Agatha’s hips, turning her. “Turn. Over.”

Agatha complied, resting her head on the desk. “Yes, sir.”

Oh, and Rio barely heard it but it hit all the same.

“What was that?” She asked rhetorically, hands on Agatha’s ass, spreading them.

Agatha moaned as Rio sunk one finger past the tight ring of muscle. “Yessir-”

“That’s my good girl, so polite.” Rio’s voice was dripping in condescension as she added another finger to help dilate. “So good.”

Agatha’s fingers clawed at the desk. “Please. Please, Rio.”

Rio bent down, pressing a sweet kiss to her shoulder before speaking. “Is my dirty girl begging me to fuck her ass?”

She saw the way Agatha’s jaw slackened. “Ye- yeah.”

And who was Rio to deny her?

She removed her fingers, reaching for the lube. The strap didn’t really need it but Rio was nothing if not a gentleman.

Rio returned, running the tip between Agatha’s cheeks, teasing. “Are you going to stay quiet for me?”

Any time Rio did this, Agatha inevitably screamed like a fucking banshee. And even with the others outside, Rio still wasn’t sure Agatha’s voice wouldn’t carry.

“Yes, sir.” Agatha croaked, pushing her hips back, shoving her ass up. “Please.”

Rio didn’t believe her for even a second, but she pressed anyway. The tip had barely sunk in before Agatha opened her mouth.

“ohmyfuckinggod!” She shouted in one long string of words.

So Rio pulled out, lightly scolding her. “That’s not quiet.”

“Sorry- ‘m sorry.” She replied, both of them knowing she wasn’t sorry at all.

“Okay.” Rio sighed like she was disappointed. She reached for her jacket, clean hand fishing out the useless lace that was once Agatha’s underwear. She leaned down. “Open.”

Agatha did but almost immediately spit the lace out in an act of defiance, smiling victoriously. “Either fuck me or point me in the direction of someone who can.”

Rio didn’t react, simply just grabbed the American flag from the bookshelf behind them. She worked as quickly as she could, knowing that Agatha would fight her otherwise. Once the flag was secure in her mouth, the ends tied behind her head, Rio smirked.

“Very patriotic.”

Agatha flipped her off, still pushing her ass as far as she could.

“If you need me to stop, just tap on the desk.” Rio pressed forward again. “Got it?”

“Mmmhmm.” Agatha nodded, looking back and rolling her eyes.

Rio gave her ass a heavy slap and Agatha buckled, groaning and letting her head drop against the wood again.

She watched as the outline of her hand bloomed bright red on the pale skin. “You look so pretty like this.”

Rio fed the strap very slowly, inch by inch, giving Agatha time to adjust.

The vice president moaned at the intrusion, face contorting and scrunching. “Mmmm.”

Once she had bottomed out, Rio gently pulled back and thrust forward. Agatha’s hips hit the edge of the desk and Rio had to restrain herself from going faster, from going hard enough that there’d be bruises on those hips by tomorrow.

Agatha’s hands dug into the desk, nails warping the wood on as her eyes lidded.

“I’m gonna speed up,” Rio warned, hands on her waist, tugging her.

She grunted in acknowledgement, body willing and pliant under Rio’s touch.

Rio snapped her hips faster, eyes glued to the way Agatha’s ass recoiled on each thrust.

“That feel good, madam vice president?” Rio asked before sinking her teeth into the muscle of Agatha’s back near her shoulder blade.

Agatha made pathetic sounds in return, muffled screams, muted whimpers. Rio made sure to suck long enough that there’d be a mark. It wasn’t necessarily allowed, but she couldn’t help herself, not when she had Agatha like this.

“My cock in your ass?” She kissed where the skin was now red and purple. “You’re so fucking greedy for it.”

Blue eyes welled and blinked and fought to stay open.

“Bent over and fucked out.”

And Rio almost didn’t catch Agatha’s hand slinking down underneath her stomach, trying to touch herself.

Rio only fucked her harder, grabbing her wrist and pinning it behind her back. She still had a free hand, though it was currently clawing at the desk.

“Oh, baby.” Rio pouted. “Is your cunt desperate for something?”

“MMMHMM!” Agatha yelled as much as she could.

“You wanna be full of me? Want to feel nothing but me?”

Agatha’s legs trembled and her head weakly nodded.

Rio yanked her back by the hold on her arm, simultaneously sitting back into the chair. Forcing Agatha along with her, forcing her to sit with Rio’s cock fully sheathed inside her ass.

Rio reached around and spread Agatha’s legs. “Go ahead, love. Ride.”

Agatha’s head lolled back, resting on Rio’s shoulder. She made a mewling sound but started moving.

Satisfied, Rio let her clean hand trail up Agatha’s thigh before running two fingers through her slit and gathering the shiny arousal. The way they were positioned made the strap grind against Rio every time Agatha moved. She pushed her fingers into Agatha, immediately matching the pace that the veep had set.

Her boss whimpered on top of her, her movements growing rigid as Rio pumped.

“C’mon baby,” Rio’s voice was breathy. “If you want it, you gotta work for it. Show me how much you love it.”

Agatha’s mascara was running as she feebly kept going, the flag now wet where it sat in her mouth.

“That’s it.” Rio praised. “My good girl.”

Agatha burrowed her face against Rio’s head, her hands clutching either arm of the chair.

Rio could feel her own orgasm about to slam into her and needed to make sure Agatha felt the same. She curled her hand, still fucking Agatha but letting her palm grind against her clit. Her other hand groping Agatha’s breast through her bra, overstimulating her in every possible way.

“Come for me.” Rio said, somewhat of a plea, somewhat of a demand.

And like an already frayed cord, Agatha snapped. Her muffled scream landed directly in Rio’s ear, movements becoming disconnected and uncoordinated. Her limbs going taught and shaky as she came.

Rio followed a second later, tensing underneath her and whispering soft praise. Her brain went fuzzy for a moment, only brought back to reality by Agatha tapping on the arm of the chair. Rio sprung into action, pulling her fingers out and deftly undoing the knot of the makeshift gag.

“Fuck.” Agatha hoarsely spoke, body limp in Rio’s lap.

“You did such a good job.” Rio said and pressed a chaste kiss to her lips.

“Can y-you do me a favor?” Agatha slurred a little.

“Yeah.”

“I need you to carry me to my room because I think you broke my back.”

Rio grinned. “Baby, I’m flattered-“

“No, Rio.” She winced. “You fucked up my back.”

“Oh, shit.”

After lifting Agatha off the strap, and checking to make sure the coast was clear, Rio got her to her room. Clothes haphazardly hanging off her frame as she helped Agatha to lay on the bed.

“What’s that about you being fifty-fucking-two?” She chuckled.

Agatha playfully swatted at her arm. “Shut up and run me a bath.”

Rio looked at her expectantly.

She rolled her eyes. “Please.”

Rio got into the tub when the water was ready, helping Agatha to sit between her legs. Her fingers idly massaging Agatha’s lower back.

“Mmm.” Agatha leaned into it, into her. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?”

Agatha hummed in approval again. “Missed this.”

Rio set her chin on Agatha’s shoulder, letting her muscles relax in the hot bath.

And she couldn’t say just how much she’d missed this or how much she dreaded the end.

That wasn’t allowed.

So she settled for what was allowed.

“Me too.”

Chapter Text

“Why the hell are you walking like that?” Jen curiously tilted her head as they all sat down in different areas of the jet.

Agatha sighed, a hand on the small of her back. “Tweaked it doing yoga.”

Rio bit the inside of her cheek to stop the laugh currently bubbling in her chest. Because Rio spent the morning applying Icy Hot to Agatha’s back in the hopes that she wouldn’t walk around the way she was right now, which was something akin to an old man without his walker.

Jen squinted her eyes. “You don’t do yoga.”

Agatha’s body dropped into her seat. “So you can imagine why my back is so fucked up.”

Rio sat next to her, paying more attention to her phone than necessary, trying very hard not to cackle in her face…mostly because she had already done that when they woke up together.

“Dry spaghetti.” Rio smiled, laying in bed with Agatha’s body slung on top of her.

“Rio.” She groaned.

“Do you prefer glowstick?”

“Jesus fucking christ.”

“Twig?”

“Yeah, you think you’re so funny.” Agatha shuffled around, still naked and still in pain. “Won’t be laughing when I stab you in your sleep.”

“That won’t work baby, I’d just get turned on and break your back like a KitKat again.”

“You’d get horny by bleeding out?”

“If it was because of you.”

Agatha smirked. “Noted.”

So after an undisclosed amount of time spent giving ‘I’m sorry’ head, Rio had possibly screwed everyone over today. Because Agatha’s whole body was stiff and rigid as she tried to get comfortable in her seat, huffing and twitching as Jen continued to talk about the schedule for the day.

“Do we need to get you a cane?” Rio cocked her head.

“Yes, that way I can thwack you whenever you piss me off.” She hissed.

Alice rubbed her temples. “Could you guys not bicker today, I’m hungover from all the wine last night.”

“No.” Jen interjected. “She can’t go on stage today with a cane, she’ll look frail and weak.”

“William.” Agatha barked. “Ibuprofen.”

The boy rushed over, handing her a few pills.

She looked down at her hand and back up at him. “And what am I supposed to take these with? Am I supposed to dry swallow them like a twink popping E at a rave?”

“Sorry.” He frantically rifled through his bag. “I have water in here–”

“Coffee.” She said, “The biggest vat you can conjure, preferably.”

“Got it,” He looked past her to Rio. “Coffee?”

Rio scrunched her face, because William didn’t usually offer to fetch things for other people on the team.

“No, I’m good.” Rio waved him off.

“I have tea too, earl gray right?” He looked in his bag again.

Yes, exactly right.

Rio rarely drank coffee and often opted for tea, specifically earl gray.

“What?” She blinked.

“You heard her, she’s good. Go.” Agatha rushed him away.

Rio watched Agatha for a beat, the woman next to her refusing to make eye contact. Out of sheer curiosity, Rio stood, following William to the back of the jet where a small coffee station was set up.

“Let me see your bag.” She whispered.

He didn’t look up from his task. “Hello to you too, Rio.”

“Bag.” She snapped her fingers. “Now.”

“No. This bag is for the vice president of the-” He was bluntly cut off by Rio elbowing him in the ribs so his shoulder slumped and caused his messenger bag to slide down his arm.

“Thank you.” She smiled, immediately opening the bag.

“Fuck.” He held his ribs.

She searched the pockets, and sure enough, tea packets. A few stashed away in the same pocket as a small tube of Aquaphor and a couple of tampons. Rio froze as her eyes relayed the information to her brain, because a couple of things stood out to her.

One, Agatha didn’t drink tea. In the three months Rio had known the woman, she’d seen her drink water, coffee, or alcohol. Never tea.

Two, Agatha didn’t use Aquaphor. Agatha used this expensive and admittedly delicious lip oil whenever her lips were chapped. Rio had tasted it on her mouth enough to know that she did not use something as common as Aquaphor. But you know who did? Rio.

Third, Agatha didn’t need tampons, she didn’t get her period anymore. And she sure as hell did not need the eco-friendly brand that Rio used and the same brand that was sitting snug in the pocket of William’s bitch bag.

And William wouldn’t know Rio drank tea, or what brand of chapstick she preferred, or what tampons she used. But she knew who would, Agatha.

Meaning Agatha quietly noticed all of those things and instructed William to start carrying them for Rio. Just in case Rio had chapped lips or was thirsty or was on her fucking period. Agatha noticed that and just did it.

She shoved the bag to William’s chest. “Why do you have all that stuff in the pocket?”

“What stuff?” He asked, catching the breath Rio had just knocked out of him.

“The tea and the tampons.”

“It’s the Rio pocket.”

“The Rio pocket?”

“Yeah, Agatha asked me to keep a pocket clear for you, just in case.”

“How long ago?”

“I don’t know, a few weeks maybe?”

“Like after the debate?”

“Yeah, around there.”

Rio’s breath caught. “Thanks.”

As she turned around to make her way back to the front where the rest of the team sat, her head spun. Because that was not the type of thing someone did for a casual hookup, that was something one did for the person they were dating. In Agatha terms, she had just given Rio a drawer in her dresser and a toothbrush in her bathroom. Agatha was not the type of person to go out of her way for a person she didn’t actually care about.

Rio silently slumped back into her seat next to the veep, hoping to give off the perfect picture of composure. Rio was cool, she could be chill about this, she was so casual and felt normal about this new discovery. She did not feel her heart pick up in affection, her cheeks did not warm, her palms were not slightly sweaty.

Between last night and today?

I thought you’d want to see me.

It’s the Rio pocket.

Maybe Rio wasn’t allowed to love her, but fuck if Agatha wasn’t making it easy.

“So Peggy’s speaking, then Rogers then you…” Jen spoke as she looked down at her phone.

“Right.” Agatha acknowledged.

“Then you go on, say your spiel.” Jen continued. “You bring out Lilia, cue music and balloons.”

William leaned over, handing Agatha her coffee. She reached for and hissed, a hand flying to her back.

“Motherfucker.” She harshly grabbed the coffee and leaned back again.

“Okay,” Jen clapped her hands together in defeat. “I’m calling a doctor to meet us in Chicago.”

“Jen.” Agatha rolled her eyes. “I’m not FDR, I don’t have a foot in the grave. I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not.” She said as she tapped on her phone. “You need some sort of painkiller or some shit stronger than ibuprofen.”

“Yes, dear.” Agatha said under her breath like a tired wife.

And Rio wanted that.

She wanted Agatha to ‘yes, dear’ her.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck.

She slumped even further into her seat, praying that she could just simply cease to exist in this moment. Rio couldn’t want nor have that, for multiple reasons. She did not want to be FLOTUS, she didn’t want Agatha to lose this race, she didn’t want to put that on Agatha.

Rio let her brain stew in that delicious little spiral all the way to Chicago, going through the motions and speaking only when spoken to. Letting her body go on autopilot until they were all safely in Agatha’s hotel room, waiting in the living room as Agatha got checked out by a doctor in the bedroom.

She did feel a tinge of guilt, knowing Agatha’s back was suffering because Rio had fucked her too hard. Although Rio was also aware she wouldn’t change a thing about last night and would kill a man in cold blood in order to do it again.

“Hi, yoga.” Wanda smugly greeted as she took a spot next to Rio on the couch.

“Fuck off, Clifford.”

As in Clifford the Big Red Dog.

Wanda’s face dropped. “Not you too.”

Rio grinned. “I’m just sorry Agatha isn’t here to witness it.”

“And here I was coming to tell you I fixed the Hela situation.” Wanda crossed her arms.

“You did?”

“Hela won’t talk about the slap if Agatha doesn’t talk about her mother.”

Considering Agatha had no interest in doing so, it was a perfect resolution.

And maybe it was because she was drowning in her own head, maybe she was just desperate to talk to someone about it. But on a whim, Rio blurted, “I have a pocket.”

Wanda’s brows crinkled. “I don’t need to know what you guys call each other’s-”

She couldn’t talk about it with William, so even though Wanda was not her first choice, Rio had no other option.

“In Agatha’s bag!” Rio elaborated. “William told me. Stuff that only I like.”

Green eyes went dramatically wide. “You have a pocket.”

“Precisely.”

“Hmm.”

“What do you think that means?”

Wanda blew out a puff of air. “She wants to marry you and knock you up in the White House rose garden?”

“Can you be fucking serious for a second?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Something helpful!”

“Rio,” Wanda started. “You have a pocket. It’s not a ring or an ‘I love you’ or fucking note passed during class. It’s shit you like taking up a fraction of space. That’s it. That’s all Agatha’s giving you and you’re acting like she got down on one knee. You take up a fraction of space in her orbit, we all do.”

“Okay, not fucking helpful.”

“Do you want it to mean more?”

Yeah, Rio was not doing this with Wanda of all people.

“So,” The doctor swung open the door, the presidential seal embroidered on his white coat. “No more yoga, right madam vice president?”

Agatha followed. “Never again. Cross my heart.”

“Good luck tonight, ma’am.” He smiled as he left.

“So?” Rio stood.

“Well, without an x-ray, all he could say was that it’s a probable muscle strain caused by overexertion.” Agatha spoke, very cognizant of everyone in the room. “He gave me a mild painkiller and told me to not fucking do that anymore.”

Huh, so Rio hadn’t broken her back, good to know. There’s always next time.

“Great!” Jen crossed the room. “You’re on in two hours, let’s get you to the convention center.”

And that is how she found herself packed into a greenroom with the entire team, plus the president of the United States. Rogers had just gotten off stage after finishing a very long-winded speech about how he admired Agatha, etcetera, etcetera.

“Rogers.” Agatha sighed.

Steve politely smiled. “Satan.”

“Aren’t you clever.” She sarcastically praised.

“Hey,” Jen rounded everyone up. “We need to move this along, Mr. President get the fuck out. Madam vice president, you got two minutes. Everyone else, in the wings or the crowd. Go, go, go!”

“You doing alright, Jen?” Rio asked, concerned for her mental state.

“Yeah, just my career has been kinda building to this whole moment, so-“ Jen said, body tense like stone. “I feel very calm!”

“Okay, I’ll meet you in the wings and then after the speech, I’m buying you a very large glass of whatever booze we can find.” Rio smiled.

“Right.” Jen nodded, grabbing Wanda and Alice. William followed, then Rogers, until it was just Agatha and Rio left.

“How are you feeling?” Rio came up behind Agatha, the vp still going over the hardcopy of her speech.

“You heard Jen, so I obviously feel no pressure whatsoever.”

“You’ll be great.” Rio’s hands rested on her hips, thumbs massaging her back. “Are the painkillers working?”

“Barely. The fucking guy didn’t want me foggy for the speech.” Agatha set aside her speech. “And has anyone seen Lilia today?”

“She’ll be here, I think she just wanted a day to rest after doing most of the heavy lifting while we were in Boston.”

Agatha turned around, her hands on Rio’s forearms. “It’s good practice for when I make her do all shit I don’t wanna do.”

“Very presidential, that mindset.” She grinned.

“How do you think I’ve made it this far?”

“Could that have something to do with me?”

Agatha smiled. “Baby, most things nowadays have something to do with you.”

Ask about the pocket, her brain muttered.

That fucking pocket.

A few pieces of fabric now haunted her.

Later, later would be better.

After the speech and after Agatha’s back wasn’t messed up.

That would be better.

Rio swallowed the words threatening to creep up her throat, leaning in and kissing her. Simple and slow, devoid of expectation or some earth shattering desire. Letting herself ignore where they were, who they were.

So neither of them heard the door open, or the footsteps of another person walking in. Agatha’s lips were against hers and the world didn’t exist anymore.

At least, in theory.

A throat cleared and Agatha pulled away like Rio’s skin had electrocuted her. Rio’s head whipped over to the source of the sound.

“Jen’s gonna lose her shit if you’re not on that stage in the next thirty seconds.” Lilia bit out.

“Uh.” Agatha looked at Rio for a beat. “Y-yeah.”

She gave Rio a nod before crossing the room, awkwardly brushing past Lilia, and leaving.

Lilia closed the door after Agatha before facing Rio, nostrils flared. “I’m done, find someone else.”

And there was no finding someone else, this was the DNC, Harkness-Caldedru was the fucking ticket.

“Lilia-”

“I won’t say anything, it’d violate my NDA.” She said with finality, getting ready to disappear out the door.

Rio’s legs carried her across the room in an instant, blocking the exit. “You can’t go, you’re-”

“What was my one condition?!” Lilia snapped, anger rising to the surface.

That Agatha tells her everything.

“I understand it looks bad.”

“It doesn’t look bad, it looks like a fucking shitshow!” Lilia yelled. “Do you two have so much as an inkling of how catastrophic this is?! Do you?!”

“We didn’t plan it!”

“First the mental institution, then the kid, and now this!” Lilia wildly gestured. “I’m out.”

“Lilia,” Rio pleaded. “I promise you it’s not like that.”

Lilia blinked before a bitter chuckle echoed in the otherwise silent room, the only other sound being Agatha giving her speech on the little TV mounted in the corner. “It’s not like that?”

“It’s not-”

“A Clinton/Lewinsky situation?”

“Is that how you think of me?” She asked, offended that the comparison was made.

“I thought you were smart.” Lilia muttered. “I thought you were going somewhere.”

Lilia’s words felt like salt in an already open wound.

Rio was smarter than this, she wasn’t a White House intern distracted by a powerful person deeming her worthy enough for a quick fuck.

That’s not what she and Agatha were.

Right?

“So you’re blaming the younger woman?” Rio chastised. “I thought you were a feminist.”

“This I expect from Agatha Harkness, but you?” Lilia looked like a disappointed mother. “Agatha won’t choose you.”

“That’s not-” She stammered. “I’m not asking her to.”

Lilia tilted her head. “You’re risking everything for an affair?”

The question was rhetorical, more of a jab than anything else.

“We’re both adults.” Was all Rio could say, because she really didn’t have a leg to fucking stand on.

“She’s a lighthouse, Rio.” Lilia said, a little softer, a warning. “When her light shines on you, it's warm and comforting. But once her attention is elsewhere? You’ll be left in the dark, you’ll be cold again.”

And to make her point crystal fucking clear, Lilia continued. “She won’t choose you over the power. She won’t hesitate to sacrifice you if she wins. You’re a blip on a much larger scale to her. I’d hate to see you get caught in the crossfire, a woman ruined at the hands of Agatha Harkness.”

Rio sucked back the tears welling. “You’re wrong about her.”

Last night, the pocket, hell, the fucking Georgetown sweater. There were signs.

“I don’t think I am.” Lilia told her. “How do you think this ends?”

It ends when Agatha’s elected, that was the agreement.

The very explicit parameters set to ensure Rio didn’t feel the way she currently did.

“Please, just don’t leave the campaign.” Rio ignored her question.

“And stay on this already sinking ship of an administration?” She almost cackled. “No. I’m going back to being governor and ignoring all this bullshit.”

“You won’t be able to ignore when Stark wins and your state’s federal funding is slashed because you refuse to comply with his demands.” Rio had one argument left, the only one she knew Lilia would respond to.

Agatha’s voice carried from the TV. “We have given so much to get to today. Sacrificed so much-”

“When Chicago is raided? When universities are sued? What then, Lilia? You gonna ignore that too?”

The governor crossed her arms. “You’re holding your hand to an open flame.” She brushed by Rio, opening the door. “Don’t be surprised when you check and you find yourself burned.”

Rio watched as Lilia diligently took her place in the wings, waiting for her cue.

She sat on the couch of the greenroom, Lilia’s words echoing in her brain while Agatha’s words loomed in the background.

She won’t hesitate to sacrifice you if she wins.

”And we won't stop here! I’m willing to give everything for this country, for the good of America.” Agatha’s speech on the TV taunted her.

She dug the heels of her palms into her eyes, hunching over.

Rio sounded deranged. She had no security here, nothing tangible or real. Yet she was delusional enough to believe otherwise? If Agatha loved her or wanted more, she’d say so.

The only thing Rio had to cling to was a pocket of shit in Agatha’s bag and the decency of being looked at in the eye during sex.

Agatha very obviously didn’t love Rio.

And if she had more self respect, Rio would end things. She’d stop and finish out the campaign before vanishing from Agatha’s life, moving onto the next job, shutting herself off.

But even that prospect felt like a worse fate than the alternative-

Which was loving Agatha until she couldn’t anymore.

How do you think this ends?

Rio foolishly let herself rationalize a fake scenario.

Maybe Agatha lost and they stayed together.

Maybe they didn’t have to hide anymore.

Maybe Rio kept her career and Agatha could find peace in a life without a constant quest for power.

How do you think this ends?

Or-

Agatha didn’t love her.

You take up a fraction of space in her orbit, we all do.

And she most likely never would.

The music cued up to play at the end of Agatha’s speech started blasting. The balloons fell. Lilia joined her on stage.

Then Agatha said her final statement.

“Thank you, Chicago! I love you.”

I love you.

Agatha won’t choose you.

“Rio!” Jen called. “You owe me a large glass of alcohol!”

She wiped her face, standing from the couch and meeting Jen in the wings.

“You okay?” Jen asked, noticing Rio’s bloodshot eyes.

She waved it off. “I think I’m PMSing, that speech just really got me.”

“You wrote it.” Jen deadpanned.

“Yeah, I’m really good at my job.” Rio weakly smiled.

“Okay, let's find you a big glass of booze.” Jen grabbed her arm, leading them away.

“Tequila, preferably.”

Chapter Text

“Hell no.” Agatha stated, storming down the hall towards her hotel room after her DNC speech.

Lilia followed close behind. “You shit where you ate, Harkness.”

She entered her room, hoping Lilia would get the message and fuck off, but the older woman just followed.

“This is your mess to clean up.”

Agatha threw her arms up. “And you think firing Rio would fix things?!”

“You’re being cruel by fucking with her future like this.”

“Firing her would only hurt her future, being kicked off a presidential campaign doesn’t exactly inspire confidence in one’s abilities.”

“She won’t leave, you know that right? She thinks you care about her.”

“Well I-” Agatha worked her jaw. “I do.”

Because she did, obviously. Agatha cared about Rio. She cared about Rio’s future not being tarnished by Agatha or their relationship. Maybe relationship is too strong of a word, tarnished by whatever the fuck they were doing.

“If that were true, you would’ve left her alone.” Lilia countered. “You wouldn’t have been thinking with your strap-on.”

“Why are you acting like I took advantage of her? We’re both consenting adults.”

“It doesn’t matter! You’re older, she’s your employee! The press will say you took advantage!”

“It isn’t like that, Rio’s-”

Rio’s smarter.

Rio’s not just some girl that Agatha wanted to fuck.

Rio wasn’t a dirty secret or a torrid affair.

And the worst part was, that’s exactly what Agatha had made her.

Rio deserved more than Agatha.

Lilia cut her off. “It is like that! Forget the optics about the first woman president spreading her legs for an underling, think about what’ll do to Rio.”

That’s all Agatha thought about.

Especially after her mother’s wake.

How Rio just accepted Agatha, scars and all. How Rio shouldn’t have accepted it.

She shook her head. “Good thing it’ll never get out.”

“Agatha.” Lilia scolded. “These things always come out.”

“Please,” She scoffed. “Do you know how many presidents have fucked someone on their staff? Me neither, none of us do. Because that number is definitely way higher than what the public knows.”

“Ending it now would be mercy.” Lilia’s voice was cold. “Before you crush her and destroy everything she’s worked for.”

At least Agatha wasn’t crazy, everything she’d been telling herself for months was now coming straight from Lilia’s mouth.

Because Agatha only ever thought about not crushing Rio, not destroying her career. And none of it would be an issue if Agatha didn’t constantly take. She took and took until there was nothing left to give. She was selfish and she knew Rio was in too deep.

The things we do for love, right?

I’d kill for you, Agatha.

She just hoped that the sex would distract Rio from admitting more, like something neither of them could come back from.

“Do you love her? Want to marry her?” Lilia interrogated. “Because if the answer’s no, cut her loose. You don’t get to play with people, not when careers and the entire country are on the fucking line!”

“I’m not playing with her.” She corrected. “We have an agreement that it ends when the campaign does.”

“Oh, well as long as you have an agreement!” Lilia sarcastically agreed.

“Listen, I’m not firing her, that’s a harassment suit waiting to happen. If she decides to quit, it’ll be on her own accord. Until then just keep your mouth shut about this.” Agatha spoke. “We’ll be more careful next time-”

“Next time?! You’re not even entertaining the idea of not sleeping with her?”

And something frayed and torn inside Agatha, snapped. “No! No, I won’t entertain it! Because everything about this fucking campaign has been nothing but bullshit! My mother, Stark, you! I know how many people I have counting on me, I know what’s at stake!”

She was well aware that William, Wanda, Alice, and most importantly Jen, were all depending on her for the next step in their careers. Agatha was supposed to elevate them, she was supposed to get Rio her flowers. As much as it was everyone else’s job to make Agatha look good, it was also her job to provide. Provide more for them, provide opportunity and success, provide their glory at the end of all this.

“But Rio just lets me put those things down for a minute. She makes me forget that everything is riding on me all the fucking time!” Agatha finished.

Lilia scowled. “Rio’s a person. Not an escape. I hope you realize that before she does.”

“Do I have to worry about you too or can you suck it up and do your job?” Agatha placed her hands on her hips, praying that Lilia would just fall in line.

Lilia shook her head, as if to indicate she was giving up on getting her point across. “No madam vice president, you don’t have to worry.” She headed for the door. “Although when this ends badly, like we both know it will, don’t expect me to defend you.”

With a soft click of the door, Lilia was gone and Agatha was alone. She let herself crumble, her head falling into her hands in sheer exhaustion. Agatha knew she was in the wrong here, knew she was the bad guy. Because how can you claim to care about someone and simultaneously be their demise?

She didn’t even make it to the bed, instead opting to fling herself onto the couch. What she and Rio were doing couldn’t be maintained, they were living on borrowed time. Maine was a fantasy, one that would never become reality. Agatha would be president, proving her mother wrong. Rio would be set for life in terms of political capital, a titan as far DC standards went. That was their end, the one they both agreed to.

And if something in the deep recesses of Agatha’s mind whispered that she wanted more? More than temporary, more than a few months with Rio? Then she pushed it down. Because what she should want was well within reach. She had the backing of the party, amazing poll numbers, and a shot in hell at winning. And it was all because of Rio, her hard work and skill.

Rio was good at her job and Agatha didn’t get to take it from her.

She didn’t get to keep taking.

Agatha also pushed down the tears currently flooding her eyes, she wasn’t the victim in this, she had no reason to cry.

But what made her feel the most guilty?

Right now, she wanted Rio. She wanted her and it was more than just bodily. She wanted her to tell her everything was okay. That they were fine and that she didn’t love Agatha.

Rio could not love Agatha any more than Agatha could love Rio.

That’s not what this was.

What’s more than casual sex but less than love?

Is there a label for that?

Mine.

They were eachothers.

That’s all they were.

She pulled out her phone and texted Rio to see if she’d come to her room tonight, but after waiting an hour for an answer, Agatha went to bed. The day drained her and Rio probably felt the same. She wouldn’t classify the sleep she got as restful, more intermittent spurts of rest. She had just woken up for the fourth time that night when a knock on the door echoed throughout her room.

Agatha got up, rushing over to the door at 3AM, finding a very obviously drunk Rio on the other side.

“Hi.” Rio lazily smiled, still in her suit from the speech hours ago.

Agatha yawned. “What the fuck.”

“I saw your text.”

“Yeah, that was when it was still yesterday, Rio.”

Rio wistfully sighed. “I suppose I can just go to my own room, aaaaaaaall the way down the hall.”

Agatha double checked that there weren’t any security cameras with a view of her door.

She bunched her hand in the lapel of Rio’s blazer, pulling her into the room. “C’mon.”

Rio let herself be tugged along, sitting down on the edge of the bed as Agatha worked off her jacket followed by her shoes.

“Why’d you get drunk? I’ve never seen you have more than one beer.” Agatha asked, popping the buttons of Rio’s shirt.

“Jen and I found a bar, tequila was had.” She replied, like that was an actual explanation.

Agatha chuckled, helping Rio shimmy out of her trousers. “And where does Jen think you are?”

“She ditched me for Alice once we got back to the lobby.” She spoke, now left in her bralette and boyshorts.

“Mhmm.” Agatha folded the clothing, setting it on a chair nearby. “I’ll get you some water, maybe check if the minibar has Advil for the hangover that’s about to rock your shit tomorrow.”

“Add it to the Rio pocket.” Rio said, slumping into the pillows.

Agatha froze. “The what?”

“My pocket in William’s bitch bag.” She clarified. “The one you didn’t tell me about.”

Agatha shrugged. “Didn’t want to make it a whole thing. It’s nothing.”

Whatever Agatha told William to carry was nobody’s business but her own. Fucking crucify her for wanting Rio to be taken care of too. It was purely practical more than anything. It was practical for Rio to have her favorite tea, earl gray, available. It made her job easier, same with the Aquaphor and the tampons.

“I want it to be a whole thing.” Rio groaned, sitting up. “I want you to tell me things, like explicitly.”

“Okay, Rio.” Agatha grabbed a bottle of water. “I am explicitly telling you, now is not the time to have this conversation.”

This was getting dangerously close to the ‘what are we talk’ and Agatha was going to outrun that shit for as long as humanly possible.

“When is?!” Rio shouted, more out of frustration than anger. “We don’t talk, we never fucking talk!”

“That’s not what this is!” Agatha furrowed her brows. “We’re-”

“Fucking? Sleeping next to each other most nights? Giving each other fucking pockets?”

“Yeah! I guess!”

“And you’re good with that? You want that?”

No.

Honestly, no.

That asinine voice in her brain told her she wanted more.

“That’s what we agreed to!” She sprawled out her arms. “Why are you picking at this?”

Rio’s face dropped, disappointment etching her features. “Agatha, you can barely look at me when we have sex.”

Not true, she had to force herself not to look at Rio during sex. Ever since the state dinner, things felt too real. The funeral sex didn’t help either but she wanted to give Rio something, wanted to feel closer to her.

She laughed, albeit, a bit cruelly. “Oh my fucking god.”

“What?”

Agatha tossed the water next to Rio on the bed. “Is this about Lilia? Did she spook you and now you’re finding shit to dissect? If you want out, you can just tell me.”

It’d feel like a shot through the heart but Agatha had survived worse.

“No. I just-” Rio’s voice broke. “I’m tired. I’m drunk. Forget it.”

Lie.

But one that worked in Agatha’s favor, so she didn’t call Rio out on it.

Agatha rifled through her suitcase, grabbing a Yale sweater. “Do you…?”

Rio didn’t really look at her as she reached out to take it. “Thanks.”

“I’ll go find some Advil.” She quietly said before leaving the room and searching the minibar.

Agatha found it almost instantly, but stood there for longer. Hoping that with enough time, Rio would pass out or just drop it.

And she knew Rio was hurting, but she also knew that letting Rio love her would hurt more. She’d meant it when she said there was nothing good for Rio from her, that morning they went to church.

Loving her was a burden that she wouldn’t wish on anyone. Because Agatha was a selfish, temperamental, conniving, power hungry leech. She’d ruin Rio and leave her destitute when the ballots were tallied.

Not necessarily because she wanted that, but because she wasn’t allowed it. The power, the pressure, the expectation all sat on her shoulders. It all mixed and melded together to sweep her at the knees and pull her under until there was nothing left of her. She couldn’t do that to another person.

But she couldn’t lose.

She wasn’t even sure who she was outside of politics, outside of this world she had encased herself in. DC was a block of resin, Agatha the very pretty butterfly trapped and frozen forever.

Did she want the power or was she just scared of who’d she be without it?

Vulnerable, weak, forced to face herself.

She walked back into the bedroom, finding Rio curled up on the farthest edge of the bed facing the wall. Agatha knew she didn’t sleep like that, Rio slept on her back so Agatha could lay on her chest.

Rio didn’t physically leave, but her body language communicated that she was at least mentally checked out. She set the bottle on Rio’s nightstand and got into her side of the bed. Agatha placed one lingering kiss to her temple, as if to say I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m like this. Don’t hate me.

Rio didn’t react, whether she was really asleep or pretending, Agatha couldn’t be sure. But she rolled over to her side anyway, clicking off the light and sinking into the mattress.

She woke up a few hours later, around six. Rio was already gone, as was her clothing from the chair. Now just replaced by Agatha’s Yale sweater.

Rio didn’t say goodbye or good morning or keep the sweater.

Agatha didn’t need it spelled out, Rio was done.

She briefly wondered if Rio faked being asleep and left as soon as she was sure Agatha had knocked out. The water left half drank on the nightstand, along with the unopened bottle of Advil.

Agatha got ready, specifically waiting to get into the shower to cry, less mess that way. She turned the water as high as it would go, letting it scold her until her skin felt raw. But even that didn’t burn in comparison to the tears streaking down her face.

Yeah, she had pushed Rio away, but Rio wasn’t supposed to listen. She never fucking listened to Agatha prior but decided to start now?

And even all the way back in Tennessee-

You have the emotional intelligence of a thumbtack, you know that?

Rio had seen her from the first minute.

And I’m here wasting my time, trying to make you into something that the average person could actually stomach!

An impossible task it seems.

When the team met in the lobby, Rio looked like shit. Even her vintage RayBans couldn’t hide the bags in her eyes, the puffiness in her face. But it wasn’t from the tequila, it was from sobbing.

“Rio.” Agatha greeted as she approached everyone.

“Madam vice president.” Rio said, completely professional.

No snark, no smile, no playful undertone.

Agatha ignored the sinking feeling in her gut, clapping her hands together with her fake politician smile locked and loaded. “Let’s hit the road, shall we?”

That’s how the next three weeks went, all the way into September. Agatha’s birthday had come and gone, spending the day on the trail before drinking half a bottle of scotch by herself in her hotel room.

They didn’t touch, didn’t sleep together, didn’t have sex. But Rio also didn’t leave or quit, she did her job to the perfect letter. As a result, they reverted back to where they began. Yelling, fighting, jabbing.

Not bickering, never bickering.

She kept the Rio pocket in William’s bag however, not wanting to face the finality of it.

Agatha didn’t sleep anymore, didn’t laugh. Just fucking ached.

She fought the urge to go to Rio’s room most nights, missing the way Rio’s breath soothed her. The gentle rise and fall of her chest beneath Agatha’s head.

Mid-September and Agatha was on the bus, fucking screaming at Rio for whatever bullshit she had booked Agatha for.

Screaming was easier than bawling, than crumbling because her thirty-five year old campaign manager didn’t want her anymore.

“No serious candidate does this shit!” She roared.

“Stark did it last week and his polling numbers skyrocketed!” Rio yelled back. “Just do the fucking gig and trust me!”

She bitterly chuckled. “Yeah cause that’s done me so much fucking good!”

“Please, Lilia would be top of the fucking ticket right now if it weren’t for me!”

“Shut up!” Wanda cut in. “All you guys have done the past month is bitch at each other!”

“Whatever.” Agatha spat.

She secretly hoped if she pushed Rio enough, her campaign manager would give in. Hell, Agatha had even worn more skirts with stockings to try to tempt her.

Nothing worked.

So, she did the damn gig.

Reading tweets, specifically the horny kind.

It was one of those bits for one of those Jimmy late night shows.

Something about it humanizing her and showing she had a sense of humor, or in her opinion, show she was fine being objectified if it meant the public fucking voted for her.

She sat on a stool in front of a camera, a smile plastered on her face. She laughed when she needed to, adding witty little comments.

“My body, her choice. Or whatever the saying is.” Agatha read off the phone, chuckling. “That’s definitely not the saying, but I appreciate the effort and the interest.”

She swiped to the next one, it had a picture of her and her team then another that zoomed in on Rio standing next to her. It was around the time before the debate and Agatha looked happy.

She cleared her throat before reading the tweet. “Do they need a third?”

Agatha gave a hollow laugh, choking back any real emotion. “Well, considering I don’t even have a second, I think you’ll be disappointed. Also I can hear HR calling my name right now.”

The next one, “Is her campaign manager single? Or in need of a dog, I can bark.”

Agatha tucked her tongue against her cheek, a habit formed from Rio. “Again, HR you guys…”

The rest were more tolerable, they didn’t include Rio or make her feel homicidal. Stark had gotten a few about Hela so Agatha supposed she should’ve seen it coming. Once her torture had come to an end, she sat paralyzed as as a PA undid her mic. The only thing that snapped her back to the real world was the PA speaking to her.

“Sorry, I’m just a huge fan.” The pretty twenty-something PA smiled.

Fan?

‘Fan’ made it sound like Agatha was a reality TV star rather than the vice president, however she smiled back anyway.

“Thank you, dear.”

“I canvassed for you all summer, door to door.”

Agatha didn’t give a fuck, but she worked her charm. “In New York of all places? Oh my god, you must be a saint.”

The PA blushed. “No, it was nothing. Also it’s really easy to get people to vote for a really smart, really hot woman.”

Oh-

The PA had a crush on her.

Agatha normally would’ve clocked that sooner but everything with Rio had her off her game.

Speaking of-

Agatha giggled, resting her hand against this woman’s wrist, innocent enough. “Aren’t you a sweetheart…”

And she didn’t have to check, it’s like Rio just intrinsically knew that she had touched another woman, because Agatha felt her eyes from across the studio.

The PA said something back, didn’t matter what, because Agatha already knew Rio was pissed. Pissed enough to do something about it? Agatha sure fucking hoped so.

After five minutes of mind numbing chitchat, Agatha was ready to give in. To accept that Rio had resolved not to bend to her will anymore. Things were over and it was for the better-

A clean break.

That’s what Agatha wanted after all, to tie this all up in a neat little bow and move on. No broken hearts, no bad feelings.

See, that'd be believable if Agatha had felt anything good in the past three weeks. But even knowing she could still pull a dumb twenty-something didn’t make her feel good, just empty.

“Ma’am?”

Agatha looked to her side to find Rio standing and waiting, trying to seem professional.

“Yeah?” Agatha asked, not looking away from the PA.

She heard Rio scoff before her hand shot out to grab Agatha’s arm, pulling her away. Agatha went willingly, she couldn’t go kicking and screaming in front of all these people, no matter how much fun it would be to get a rise out of Rio because of it.

Once they were safely inside what looked to be an equipment closet, Rio pounced. Shoving her against the nearest wall. And though Agatha wasn’t a fan of tight spaces, her brain couldn’t seem to panic with Rio standing right in front of her.

“What the hell was that?” Rio growled, crowding her.

“What?” She played dumb, “Every vote counts, right?”

Rio’s hands came to the hem of Agatha’s skirt, thank god she had decided to wear one today, gliding up her thighs. “Three weeks and you’re this needy?”

Agatha leaned back further into the wall. “I wouldn’t be if you had been fucking doing something about it.”

One of those perfectly toned thighs that Agatha often dreamed about came between her own, immediately applying pressure to her cunt.

“I don’t care if it’s been a year.” Rio pulled at her hips, forcing her to grind. “You’re still mine.”

She stifled a moan as her hips rolled. “Then act like it.”

Agatha reached her hands out to anchor themselves on the lapels of Rio’s blazer, when Rio stopped and pulled back. “Turn around, I don’t wanna look at you right now.”

I wanna see you.

I don’t wanna look at you right now.

She swallowed the hurt, turning around and placing her hands against the wall. Rio’s body pressed against hers, a hand returning beneath her dress under the waistband of her underwear.

“You think that fucking tween out there could do this?” Rio spoke against Agatha’s ear as her fingers ran through the already sticky hair, landing directly on her clit.

“Shit.” Agatha’s head fell forward against the wall, “Yeah, actually I do.”

She didn’t even know why she was patronizing Rio, it was just easier than the alternative.

“Oh baby,” She could hear the fucking smirk on Rio’s lips even if she couldn’t see it. “Nobody can touch you like I do.”

Agatha’s heart strained at the pet name, the one she hadn’t heard in three weeks and missed more than she knew.

Rio’s middle and ring finger massaged her clit, it was like muscle memory for them at this point. “Say it.”

Agatha huffed. “Fuck off.”

Rio’s mouth no longer brushed the shell of her ear, moving to her throat, teeth clamping down on her neck. Simultaneously, Rio’s fingers pressed down, making Agatha involuntarily buck into the touch. She bit her lip to muffle the wail that tore from the back of her throat at the delicious pain.

“Say it.” Rio commanded again, running her tongue along the indentations she’d just left.

“Nobody-” She spoke through wrecked breaths. “Nobody can touch me like you do.”

“Good girl.” Rio praised, though it dripped with condescension. “Who do you belong to?”

Rio’s fingers sped up as Agatha’s clutched the wall. “You.”

“Next time,” She whispered against Agatha’s now bruised neck. “I leave something more permanent.”

“Fuck.” Agatha whimpered at the threat because it only turned her on more, the thought making her tilt her hips, giving more of herself to Rio. “Please.”

“Oh now you wanna have manners? Could’ve used those twenty minutes ago when you were whoring yourself out for my attention.”

Agatha’s stomach twisted, in arousal and in guilt. “I’m sorry.”

“Not sorry enough.” Rio said, but it didn’t sound like she meant it in this context, in this way.

“I’m still yours.” Agatha almost whispered. “I- I’m still yours.”

Agatha knew she was close, and judging by the way Rio’s fingers worked, she knew it too.

“Please.” Agatha pleaded, though she wasn’t confident what for, whether it was about finishing or about them. “Please, Rio.”

She started to buckle, her legs growing weak. “Baby…”

Just when Agatha couldn’t take it anymore, ready to break, Rio’s hand fell away completely. Her body separated from Agatha’s.

Agatha blinked, dumbfounded by the lack of-

Well, of fucking anything.

She whipped around, facing Rio. “What the fuck?”

Rio’s eyes were glassy, like she had some sort of come to Jesus moment while playing with Agatha’s clit.

“You don’t get to keep taking.”

Agatha furrowed her brows. “So you steal my orgasm?”

Like saying it aloud would help it make sense in her mind.

Rio didn’t seem remorseful or guilty or even regretful. “You left me in the fucking dark.”

“What are you talking about?” She was trying to follow but Rio was speaking in a secret code that Agatha didn’t have the key for.

“Your attention was somewhere else and I’m fucking cold again, Agatha!” Rio barked before storming out the door, slamming it closed behind her.

Okay, whatever that fucking meant.

She fixed her skirt, exhaling a heavy breath and slumping against the wall. She replayed what had just happened, trying to put the pieces together.

They didn’t even kiss.

Yeah, the unsatiated ache between her thighs was killing her.

But the one in her chest was aiming to take her out altogether.

Agatha didn’t know what love should feel like, but she had a sneaking suspicion it shouldn’t be this hard.

She needed to get out of this fucking closet.

Chapter Text

The last Friday in September, Agatha met Jen for dinner at a restaurant in DC. It was the team’s last free weekend before election day in November. Agatha proposed that Jen just come over to her place for dinner, but Jen insisted it’d be good for Agatha to be seen out in public as a private citizen and off the campaign trail. As if Agatha eating dinner would remind the public that they too eat dinner and feel connected to her and subsequently vote for her.

The veal looked good so Agatha didn’t complain, until Jen told her to order a less controversial meat. Apparently the gen z crowd were a bunch of gay vegans living off chickpeas and tofu so Agatha had to suffer and ended up ordering a salad.

And she hated salad.

Halfway through the dinner, around seven, after discussing nothing but work Jen finally dropped the bomb that Agatha knew was coming eventually.

“I’m gonna ask Alice to marry me.” She said over her own salad.

Agatha choked on her spinach. “What?”

“After the election.”

She swallowed. “Why?”

Jen’s face dropped. “Because I want to…?”

“You barely know each other.”

“We’ve been together a year and a half and I’ve known her for four.”

“Yeah…exactly.”

Jen smiled. “Not all of us want to grow old alone.”

“My plan wasn’t to grow old alone.” She waved her fork around as she spoke. “My plan was to platonically grow old with you and let my hair go completely gray and scraggly and trick the neighbor kids into thinking I’m a witch.”

“You can still grow old with me.” Jen agreed. “It’ll just be me and Alice, hopefully.”

“No way, I’m not being the Shawn to your Cory and Topanga. It’s cute when it’s two of us, but I’m not third wheeling it into retirement.”

“Fine, but just find someone. Even Shawn had Angela.”

Shawn and Angela didn’t even end up together in the show, he was too much of a dumbass to keep her around.

Agatha picked at her plate, “How’d you even know? That you wanted…that.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, one person forever. Aren’t you gonna get sick of each other?”

“Haven’t gotten sick of her yet.”

“But-” Agatha’s tone was genuine. “Why take the risk?”

Jen shrugged. “Love?”

She chuckled. “Love? You’re ivy league educated and it comes down to love?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t it?”

“Love’s temporary.” Agatha simply stated. “People come into your life and when they leave, the love leaves with them.”

And now it was Jen’s turn to laugh. “My god that is so fucking bleak.”

“How is that bleak?! That’s practical!”

“Love isn’t finite. It has nothing to do with object permanence, Agatha.”

“Show your work.” Agatha quirked her eyebrow in disbelief.

Jen leaned back in her chair, taking a moment before locking eyes with Agatha. “Nicky’s not here anymore, do you still love him?”

Her jaw dropped. “Of course I do.”

“There you go.”

“He’s my son, that’s a different thing.”

“Okay,” Jen tilted her head. “What if I disappeared tomorrow? Would you just stop loving me?”

“Bold to assume I love you now.”

“Bitch...” Jen deadpanned.

“Fine, no I wouldn’t.”

“Love isn’t this tangible thing that breaks down or cracks apart at the first sign of tension or pressure, it’s a feeling.” She spoke, “It’s wanting to show up, be with this person, support them whether they make it easy or not. Whether they annoy the shit out of you some days and cheer you on from the sidelines on others.”

“And you’re not scared you’ll wake up one day and regret it?”

“If I do, that’s life. But I can’t see that happening with Alice, she’s…” Jen had this cheesy grin on her face. “She’s-”

“Perfect?” Agatha snorted.

“God no. She steals the covers and has the coldest feet known to man.”

“And you want that for the rest of your life?”

“It’s flaws and all. It’s the imperfections that make her her and I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

Agatha had to change the subject before her brain took this shit and fucking ran with it.

“I guess I just don’t see the merit.”

Then Jen snorted. “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Agatha, I’ve known you for over thirty years. You weren’t exactly an open book even before Nicky. But after? You closed yourself off entirely. You locked yourself up. It’s why no relationship you’ve had was ever longer than a month.”

“That’s not true.”

“Isn’t it? You’d find a woman, date casually for a few weeks, and as soon as she wanted more, you bolted.”

“Well that’s because she’d do something unforgivable. Like say ‘okey dokey’ instead of ‘okay’.”

“I’m just saying, you haven’t really allowed yourself that.” Jen said. “And I think you deserve to grow old with someone.”

“Who’s gonna date me now? Be ‘the wife of’?”

“Plenty of lesbians would love to be your FLOTUS.”

She didn’t want plenty of lesbians, she wanted one specific lesbian and she couldn’t fucking have her.

“Who am I going to meet as president?”

“Foreign diplomats? Pundits? CEOs? Lawyers? Doctors? DC is filled with power dykes.”

“Yeah and then they’d give it all up for me.”

“It’s a flaw.” Jen shrugged. “The right person won’t see it as a dealbreaker.”

They should.

“I wouldn’t do that to another person.”

“Just keep it in mind?”

Agatha pushed around her ruffage. “Yeah, let me just make another pass at Wanda.”

“Okay aside from that being a spectacularly heinous idea-”

Oh, she had no fucking clue how heinous Agatha felt about it.

“You wouldn’t last even a month with Wanda.”

Agatha cocked her head. “Why’s that?”

“She’s too sweet, too agreeable. You need someone who challenges you, stimulates you.”

Agatha smirked. “That’s inappropriate-”

“Intellectually, dumbass!”

“I think you’re the only person who could pull off calling the vice president of the United States a bitch and a dumbass in the span of five minutes.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna keep doing it when you’re president.”

“Jennifer Kale,” She sighed. “You keep me humble.”

“Damn right.”

Agatha softened her face. “I’m happy for you, you know.”

“I know.” Jen grinned. “And I’ll be happy for you when it’s your turn.”

Yeah, Agatha highly fucking doubted that, all things considered.

Jen would have Agatha’s head if she ever found out about Rio.

Not that Agatha thought about Rio when she thought about love.

No, not after that fucking equipment closest.

They hadn’t spoken since, the line between them gone icy. The only positive was how Rio still thought of Agatha as hers. It made something in her warm to know that no matter how thick the fog between them was, she still belonged to her.

“I have a feeling you’ll be waiting a while.” Agatha said.

“Oh, before I forget. You’re my maid of honor.”

“Nooooooo.” She groaned. “I’m going to have to hold your dress while you pee while I'm president?”

“Unless you lose.”

“You think I will?”

“Fuck, I hope not. That’d kill me almost as much as it’d kill you. But at least then Alice and I will be unemployed together.”

And Jen had done so much. She picked Agatha up after Nicky, after her first time losing the presidency. Jen was always there and if Agatha could repay her with this? Why shouldn’t she?

“Well,” Agatha looked down at her plate. “I’m…not stuffed at all. This sucked.”

“Gotta get those socialist votes.” She winked.

“Let’s get the check instead.”

“Yeah. I’ll write this off as a campaign expense.”

“Smart.”

After that, Agatha stopped at her favorite used bookstore in DC. It was only her favorite because she’d known Herb for years and he didn’t judge her for buying primarily erotic thrillers. She liked the suspense and she liked not feeling shamed for it.

It was dark out but the inside of the store was cozy and shabby and she loved it. A small comfort in an otherwise uncomfortable city where she couldn’t go anywhere or do anything without it being a news article.

Her secret service detail waited outside, book shopping was a solitary activity. As she walked down the aisles, looking for her next read, nothing stood out. Maybe the real life murder changed her tastes but suddenly a homicidal pyschosexual drama didn’t call to her anymore. So she wandered aimlessly for about twenty minutes before finding herself in the poetry section.

She almost felt more embarrassed to be in this section than the one where people fucked about crime, but she kept scouring the shelves anyways. Nothing, absolutely nothing. That wouldn’t work, she could be alone with her fucking thoughts about Rio and love and how the two were suspiciously correlated to one another in her mind.

She reached the middle shelf when something caught her eye-

Devotions by Mary Oliver.

Agatha knew that name, it was the author of that poem from church-

Wild geese?

Wild geese.

Corny ass lesbian poetry…

So fucking stupid…

She bought the damn book.

“Good to see you branching out, ma’am.” Herb smiled as he handed her the receipt.

“You tell anyone about this,” She held up the book. “I know people who can make you disappear without a trace.”

Herb’s face dropped. “Understood.”

Once home, she made herself a bowl of instant ramen and curled up on the couch with the waste of fucking money she’d just aquired. She jumped around at first, skimming the pages. Then she sunk a little deeper into the couch, glasses on the tip of her nose. At one point she found a pen, making little notes, highlighting certain lines.

She stayed on that couch for an unknown amount of time, reading and reading these devotions. In her opinion, the best were in the New and Selected Poems: Volume One, 1992 part of the book. For some reason, they called to her, resonated with her.

One in particular, that being When Death Comes.

When death comes like an iceberg between the shoulder blades,

When it’s over, I don’t want to wonder if I have made my life something particular and real. I don’t want to find myself sighing and frightened, or full of argument.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.

Agatha snapped the book shut after her fifth reread of that stupid fucking poem. Only then realizing her ramen had gone cold on the coffee table.

“Fuck.” She muttered, throwing the book down and standing. “Kate!” Agatha aimlessly called, already making her way to the stairs.

A minute later Kate appeared, poking her head out. Agatha often let her hang around the house rather than outside, she’d taken an unfortunate liking to the very annoying twenty-something year old.

“Yeah?”

“We’re going on a run.” She stated, not looking back as she ascended up the staircase.

“Uh-” Kate babbled.

Agatha whipped around. “What?”

“It’s just like 9PM…and it’s supposed to rain soon.”

“Guess we better run fast then, get changed.”

Yeah, they did not run fast enough to outrun the rain, or more accurately, the torrential downpour. Kate repeatedly asked if Agatha wanted to turn around, but each time she waved her off.

Agatha didn’t mind the rain, even if it was soaking through her leggings and Yale sweater. The same Yale sweater Rio left behind the morning she left Agatha behind. Left Agatha behind without a fucking word, not so much as a post-it saying ‘I’m out’.

Agatha didn’t leave Rio in the dark, it was the other way around.

She may have been mean, fine.

I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.

She may have minimized Rio’s feelings in the process of minimizing her own, fine.

I’m just saying, you haven’t really allowed yourself that.

She may have been too quick to dismiss Rio’s affections, fine.

Love isn’t this tangible thing that breaks down or cracks apart at the first sign of tension or pressure, it’s a feeling.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t love her.

Wait-

You need someone who challenges you, stimulates you.

Agatha’s legs became lead as she stopped mid-sprint.

“Oh thank god,” Kate shouted through the sheets of rain falling on them. “Are you done? Can we get a car to take us back please?”

“Kate.” Agatha shouted back, her hair now sopping wet in its messy ponytail.

“Whaaaat?” She whined, clutching her abdomen.

Fuck, how fast had Agatha been going?

“I think-” Agatha stumbled on her words. “I think I maybe love her…a bit.”

Kate’s face went from confusion to annoyance. “That’s why you dragged me out here?! Fucking duh, madam vice president!”

“How was I supposed to know?!”

“Because you two are so gross about it, as someone who’s heard shit through a hotel room door!” Kate wildly motioned. “I don’t know what you guys do, but I need therapy because of it.”

“That’s sex, that doesn’t mean-”

“No! I mean yes, at times I’ve genuinely been worried for your safety only for you to scream ‘harder’ but I’ve also heard you singing along to your musicals in front of her. You couldn’t waterboard me enough to deal with that and she does for you. Or the way you always look for her in every crowd, I track your eyes.”

“You knew and didn’t tell me?!”

“I thought you knew, like internally! That’s how love works! Usually people don’t need to be told when they’re in love!”

“Nobody ever told me that!”

“Can we stop screaming in the rain now?!”

“I can’t feel like that, it was supposed to be a fling.” Agatha ignored her question.

“You can’t decide how you feel and when you feel it.” Kate scrunched her face. “That’s not how humans work.”

That’s how Agatha worked.

That's how she used to work at least.

But the more she fought it, the more futile it became.

“Jesus fucking christ, fine!” Agatha yelled before taking off again.

“Noooooo.” Kate whined again, diligently running after her. “This has to be an OSHA violation! Is there a union leader I can report this to?!”

Did she know where Rio lived? Yes. Only because she had access to every background check database virtually ever. Agatha got curious enough one day to see what Rio’s life looked like outside of her, outside of the campaign, outside of politics. They were an easy twenty minute run from Rio’s condo, a brownstone, way more expensive than Agatha would’ve expected.

Kate complained the whole time, pleading to call a car when the thunder rumbled and the lightning struck. Agatha didn’t let up though, she may be a lot of things, but she was nothing if not determined, some have even said stubborn.

She only came to a halt when she saw that familiar brownstone, ivy grown all over on the sides, a few lights on throughout the house. Her brain noted the roses planted out front, the azaleas, the multitudes of other flowers.

Fucking hick, she thought as her face warmed.

Agatha panted as she stood at the front gate, brick fencing encasing the front yard. She placed her hands on her knees, catching her breath.

“Okay, you’re obviously losing it.” Kate spoke from behind her. “I’m calling it, we’re going back.”

Yeah, Agatha was definitely fucking losing it.

She was drenched, sweaty from the humidity in the air, and completely focused on one singular thought-

Seeing Rio.

Agatha turned around. “You’re going back. I’m staying here.”

“Umm,” She tilted her head. “Well no, because if you get hurt I’d lose my job-”

“I’m already hurt!” Agatha snapped. “I’ve been hurting for weeks and I’ve ignored it because it’s not physical!”

“Agatha, whose house are we in front of right now?” Kate raised her brows.

Agatha pursed her lips. “That’s private information…”

“Is this Rio’s place?”

“...Maybe.”

“I cant-” Kate groaned. “I can’t leave you here, it’s breaking several thousand protocols-”

“Kate, level with me here. Have a heart.”

“I have one! But-”

“You have a girlfriend, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“What if you couldn’t get to her? Couldn’t see her? Talk to her? Wouldn’t you go a little insane?!”

“You can’t appeal to my humanity, I work for the federal government.” Kate crossed her arms.

“Fine.” She stepped closer. “Go back to mine, pretend you have eyes on me, cover for me, and whatever position you want when I’m president is yours.”

“Like- Like head of your detail?”

“Sure.” She shrugged. “Why not.”

“Are you serious right now?”

“As the JFK assisnation.”

Kate looked conflicted for a moment. “Do I get a raise?”

“You can have whatever you want just go!”

“I have to run back?”

“Yes!”

“Fucking dyke drama…” She mumbled before nodding and starting a brisk jog down the street.

Agatha turned to face the home again, watching a silhouette pace back and forth through the curtains of the front window. She reached out a frigid hand, undoing the latch on the front gate.

She tried to not acknowledge how desperate she felt, how pathetic this all seemed. Finding herself on Rio’s front step like a stray begging to be given a chance.

Please. Let me in. I can be good.

The things we do for love, right?

Right.

Agatha exhaled a harsh breath, lifting her still shaking knuckles to the door, knocking a few times in quick succession of one another. Nervously shifting her weight between her right and left leg.

What if she was too late?

What if Rio decided she wasn’t worth the trouble?

What if she finally saw Agatha for all that she is, and decided it wasn’t enough?

Or decided she was too much?

She waited, knocked again, nothing.

Fuck, what was she thinking? It was past 10PM on what was technically a weeknight, anyone sane wouldn’t open their door to a strange and unwelcome knock. Agatha took a couple steps back, back into the rain, down the steps.

She could accept defeat, that it was over.

That she loved someone who wasn’t hers.

Who’d never be hers, not to keep.

Not to grow old with.

No it’s good, it would force her to grow.

She didn’t want to fucking grow.

She wanted Rio.

Her sneaker had just hit the bottom step when hinges creaked, a soft light pooling out.

“Agatha?” Rio’s voice called.

She winced at how gentle Rio’s tone sounded, almost concerned.

Agatha apprehensively turned her body, walking up the steps.

When she arrived at the top one, she looked into Rio’s eyes. They were big as ever, overflowing with that fucking thing-

Devotion.

Or maybe love.

Probably love.

Definitely love.

Rio’s eyebrows were knitted together, her hand clutching a phone to her shoulder, like she was on a call and making them hold while she dealt with her unstable boss/not technically ex-girlfriend.

Agatha bunched her fingers around the cuff of her rain-seeped sweater. The harsh pitter patter of water hitting the cement below her feet grounding her, taking in a gulp of air before giving a weak smile.

“Hi.”

Chapter Text

“Hi.”

Rio blinked before putting her phone to her ear. “Te llamaré de nuevo. Sí, lo sé. I can’t-” She listened to whoever was on the other end for a beat. “Es trabajo, tengo-”

Agatha’s smile faded as she stood, she didn’t even know Rio spoke Spanish. She’d never heard her speak it before and didn’t want to assume.

How much did Agatha not even know about the woman she claimed to love?

“My god.” Rio gritted out. “I will call you back tomorrow, te amo.”

I love you.

Was that a friendly ‘I love you’ or a romantic ‘I love you’?

Rio slipped her phone into the pocket of her sweatpants, fixing the hem of her t-shirt that had ‘Call me the twin towers the way her Bush got me going down’ written across it.

“How are you here right now?” Rio looked past her, trying to see if there were any agents in her front yard.

“That shirt is so stupid.” Agatha smirked, trying to relieve the tension.

“Where’s your detail?”

“Not here. Who were you on the phone with?”

“My cousin. Did you pull a jailbreak?”

“Can I come in?”

Please let me in.

“Did you run here?”

“Yeah. I-” She held onto her sweater like a security blanket. “I missed you.”

“It’s pouring rain…” Rio stated the obvious.

“Oh is it?” Agatha deadpanned.

Please let me in.

“If you’re just here for sex, I can’t-”

“I’m not.” She didn’t elaborate further, her heart was thrumming and her legs felt like the aforementioned twin towers and their below average structural integrity.

“What are you here for then?” Rio tilted her head, eyes burrowing into Agatha’s.

“You’re gonna make me stay out here with the rain til’ I answer?”

“Agatha,” Rio’s voice dropped, serious but not unkind. “What do you want?”

Please.

Let me in.

“I wanted to see you, talk to you.” It may have been simple, but at least it was true.

“Why?”

Agatha inhaled an unsteady breath. “Because I’ve been miserable this past month.”

Shit, she already felt tears welling.

Whether it were the unshed tears or the admission of feeling an emotion that had Rio moving out of the way and ushering Agatha in, she couldn’t be sure, but she wasn’t about to ask.

Her sneakers squeaked as she walked in, looking around at the place Rio lived when she wasn’t with Agatha. The floor was hardwood, probably original. The walls were a deep green color, covered in various photos or different campaign memorabilia. If Agatha thought the flowers in the front yard were damning, the inside was worse. Rio must’ve had fifty different plants scattered between the entryway, hallway, living room, and kitchen.

“How the hell can you afford this at thirty-five?” Agatha darted her eyes around.

“Do you not know about a concept called renting?” Rio furrowed her brows. “Only place I could find that’ll let me renew the lease three months at a time and close enough to the White House.”

“Why three months?”

“DC is temporary, don’t want to commit to any roots yet.”

Agatha’s throat involuntarily constricted. “Smart.”

No it wasn’t, Rio had been working in DC for years now and she didn’t see herself here long term?

“Not unless I had a reason to at least.” Rio quietly spoke, already moving down the hall and opening a linen closet.

“Managing a winning presidential campaign isn’t enough of one?”

Rio grabbed a towel and handed it to her. “Yet to be determined.”

Agatha took it, wringing out her hair. “What would? Determine it?”

“What did you want to talk about?” Rio crossed her arms like she was protecting herself.

She slung the towel over the banister of the staircase, taking a step forward. There was still plenty of space between them but she wished there wasn’t. Wished that this wasn’t so fucking hard for her. Wished that she could just be the fucking person Rio needed her to be. That she wanted to be for Rio.

Agatha set her jaw, forcing herself to look into Rio’s eyes as she spoke. “I don’t want to end up simply having visited this world.”

She scrunched her face. “Huh?”

“So you’re the only one who gets to use vague and confusing metaphors?”

“I-”

“I don’t want to look back on what could have been and hate myself for it. I don’t want to lose you because I can’t deal with my own shit. I-” Her voice shook. “I can’t take you being pissed at me or not talking to me. I’ve tried, and frankly, it fucking sucks.”

“Yeah, it does.” Rio agreed.

“You shouldn’t have left-”

“And that’s usually your move, right?” Rio dropped her arms, face covered in shock. “You left first, maybe not physically but emotionally, you were gone. From the very beginning it was me making the compromises. It was me picking my battles. You were never fucking there to begin with, Agatha!”

She flinched at the accusation.

At the accuracy of Rio’s argument.

“I never left.” Rio continued. “I did my job even though it hurt like hell not to see you. Really see you.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“Because it’s obvious that this means more to me than it does you! It always has! I’m fucking Monica and you’re Bill and in a couple months you’ll be president and there will be a Hillary and-”

“No-”

“At the end of this you get your prize and I’m left behind! I saw the writing on the wall so I took myself out of the equation.”

“I liked you in the equation!” Agatha snapped. “And comparing yourself to a fucking intern is bad, but comparing me to Bill Clinton is an actual hatecrime.”

“You said yourself at the wake-”

Don’t.

“I know what I said, but I was trying to protect you.”

“You think hurting me like that is protection?” Rio’s eyes were wet, her mouth twisted in a snarl. “You were never mine, not really.”

And Agatha wanted to sob at that, at Rio ever believing it.

She felt the tears coming and her instinct was to pull back, to retreat. But she couldn’t regress, not if it cost her Rio.

“That’s not fucking true. I was yours, I am yours.” Her voice was surprisingly steady for how fragile she felt. “More than I have ever been anyone else’s.”

“You can’t say that when everything is on your terms, it always has been.”

“My terms?!” Agatha almost shouted. “Everything has been for you! Your future! Your reputation! Your career! I only ever cared about how this affected you! So that you wounldn’t be Monica or Marilyn or whoever the fuck else!”

“But did you actually ever care about me?”

Agatha squeezed her eyes shut, feeling the tears track down her face before she opened them again. “I thought- I thought if I didn’t say it, then it wouldn’t be true. That it wouldn’t hurt.” She took another step. “You’re what I care about most these days.”

“Didn’t feel like it.”

“It’s been hard showing it. The feeling.”

“And how do you feel?” Rio genuinely asked.

Agatha bit her lip, summoning courage that she could say everything without sounding like a fucking idiot.

“Agatha,” Rio took a step, the gap growing smaller. “How do you feel?”

Okay, there was no getting around this, so-

“Like when I’m giving a speech and I know you’re in the crowd and I zero in on you, I pretend I’m saying everything just for you and no one else. Like I’ve never been a morning person but I hate them even more now because it’s when you go and I can’t lay on you anymore. Like sleep is a punishment because I’d rather stay awake and have more time with you, but I’ve also never slept better.” Her voice broke. “Like I miss you all the fucking time and pushing it away only made the pain worse. Like you’re the first person who doesn’t judge me for how irrevocably fucked up I am.”

Rio chuckled at that one.

“I know I make it really hard to love me and for some unidentifiable reason, you do. And I wish I had realized sooner, I wish I could know who I would’ve been if I hadn’t been forced to just survive for fifty years.” She paused, choosing her next words carefully. “But you’re not a fling, and you’re not an affair. You wanted more and I bolted. I cut you off emotionally and I am so sorry, Rio. You didn’t deserve it.”

Rio’s face softened, her body relaxing as Agatha spoke.

“But I also can’t drop out of the race, I can’t do that to Jen-”

“I’d never ask you to.”

“And I wouldn’t ask you to quit. I can’t keep taking, and Ican’t quit.” Agatha’s face was etched with heartache. “But then nothing changes and you’re still forced to be a secret. That’s not fair to you. I don’t- I don’t-”

Rio didn’t allow her to keep stumbling, her hand coming to Agatha’s cheek. “Do you love me?”

Her whole body soothed at the touch even if her heart lurched at the question. Agatha could count the amount of people she’s truly loved on one hand. Nicky, Jen, Rio.

“Won’t it just make the end hurt more if I say it?”

“Will it hurt any less if you don’t?”

No.

It’d tear her apart just the same.

That fucking shot through the heart.

Agatha’s hand rested on Rio’s wrist. “If I win-”

Rio’s eyes flickered with something that Agatha could only classify as sorrow. “When you win, you’ll be great.”

“And what about us?”

She held her breath as she waited for Rio’s answer.

“We appreciate the time we had?” Her voice was as unsure as Agatha felt. “Even if it’s just for the meantime, I’ll take you however I can get you.”

“So what, we just love each other until we pretend we didn’t?”

Rio’s lower lip wobbled almost imperceptibly, honestly Agatha wouldn’t have caught it if she didn’t have every inch of Rio memorized by now.

“I don’t see another way.”

“And that doesn’t kill you?”

It was killing Agatha.

“There’s always Maine.” She gave a somber smile. “But I’d rather love you now while I still have you and feel the pain later, than feel the pain of not being able to love you while I’m still with you every day.”

“There’s less than two months until election day-”

“Do you love me, Agatha?” Rio repeated her question.

“It’s fucking eating me up inside.” Agatha croaked. “It’s carved into me.”

Rio’s other hand settled on Agatha’s face, cradling it. “So we enjoy the time we have.”

“That’s how this ends?”

Rio didn’t look confident, she didn’t look like she wanted to agree, but she did anyway.

“Yeah,” Her voice wavered as another tear fell from an amber iris. “That’s how this ends.”

Love isn’t finite. It has nothing to do with object permanence, Agatha.

“How does that not scare the shit out of you?”

“Because,” Rio easily replied. “At least I’ll have known that it was time well spent.”

Agatha’s eyes felt swollen, red, and irritated. And she could end it here, walk away and claim that Rio’s love wasn’t worth the pain.

But it’d be a lie.

It’d be a cop-out.

It’d be what Agatha had done most of her life, deflecting anything that would hurt.

But it wouldn’t make her love for Rio any less real.

It wouldn’t remove that love from the forefront of her mind. Wouldn’t make it evaporate into thin air.

She couldn’t ignore what seemed inevitable.

Agatha’s hands squeezed Rio’s wrists before she said what Rio deserved to hear, despite her own self preservation.

“I do, you know.” Agatha leaned into Rio’s space. “Love you.”

Rio’s thumb swiped a stray tear off Agatha’s cheek.

“I love you too, baby.”

Baby.

It was like a shot of adrenaline, the final straw that propelled her forward until her lips met Rio’s.

A month without this, without something as mundane as a kiss, had felt like centuries. Rio’s hand slid forward as she returned it, fingers threading through Agatha’s damp hair as much as they could with it still being up.

Agatha tried to deepen this kiss, tried opening her mouth wider, but before she could, Rio pulled back.

“The fact that you ever tie your hair back is a fucking crime.” She said as she unwound the hair tie, letting Agatha’s hair free.

“There’s too much of it.” Agatha rushed out, trying to get back to what they were just doing. “Need a trim-”

“Touch it and I kill myself.” Rio pouted, running her hands through it.

“Touch me before I kill myself.” Agatha yanked Rio as close as possible, kissing her again.

“Upstairs?” Rio asked against her lips.

Thank fucking god, yes.

However-

“Where’s the kitchen?”

Rio cocked her head, taken off guard. “Uh, down the hall, to the left.”

Agatha took off momentarily, reaching the kitchen and scanning the countertops until she found what she needed. She grabbed it before meeting Rio in the hall again, presenting her spoils.

“Baby…” Rio raised her brow. “You sure?”

“You said you’d leave something more permanent next time.” She held up the small peeling knife, the blade maybe only two inches with a razor sharp point. “It’s next time.”

“I don’t want you making a decision you regret in the heat of the moment-”

She was fucking trying to get to the heat of the moment, if Rio would let her.

Instead of explaining that, though, Agatha wordlessly held up her left hand. Bringing the knife in her right hand up and quickly slicing her palm open, a superficial wound at best. Just enough to bleed without having to worry about scarring.

Rio’s pupil ate her entire eye as she watched the blood seep out of the angry red line.

The sick fuck was standing there almost drooling over Agatha’s hand…

She needed Rio to fuck her-

Now.

Before Agatha could so much as blink, Rio’s body stood flush against her, grabbing her injured hand. Her tongue darted out and went flat against her palm, licking the blood while keeping eye contact.

God damnit, that might’ve been more gratifying than the declaration of love. Agatha’s breath stuttered, a moan catching in throat as Rio’s tongue kept going, only stopping when Agatha’s fingers had ended.

“Upstairs?’ Agatha parroted Rio’s question.

She nodded, a feral look in her eye as she lurched forward, kissing Agatha and slamming her into the nearest wall. She wasn’t even sure if it was the wall itself that had knocked the wind out of her or the way Rio’s hands found her thighs and hoisted her up. Forcing Agatha to lock her legs behind Rio’s waist, trusting her.

Because she did, she trusted Rio.

Agatha wouldn't trust anyone else to not drop her.

Agatha wouldn’t trust anyone else to hold a blade to her skin.

Agatha wouldn’t trust anyone else to love her.

It was only her.

It was only ever Rio.

She didn’t pay attention to the layout of the home as Rio seamlessly pulled her from the wall, keeping their lips connected as she carried her up the stairs. The second floor had another hallway, one the Rio kept stopping in to press Agatha up against whatever wall they were passing by, picture frames and décor falling to the ground in the process.

Her hands were slung over Rio’s shoulders, one holding onto the knife, the other resting on Rio’s neck, smearing blood against it. It’s fine, she’d lick it off later.

They never really did gentle, but it seemed love only made things more volatile. And Agatha couldn’t fucking wait to see just how unhinged Rio could get, how rough she’d be just to prove her love.

They made it to the bedroom eventually, Rio finally dropping her onto the bed with a soft thud. Agatha momentarily dropped the knife, letting Rio pull her sweater over her head, followed by her sports bra, both still soaked through from the rain. Rio threw them elsewhere before dropping to her knees between Agatha’s legs, hooking her thumbs into the waistband of her underwear and leggings before peeling them down her legs.

She reached out to tug off Rio’s shirt, that stupid, stupid shirt that made Agatha smile. She made a move for Rio’s sweatpants next, then her underwear, her hands greedily pulling at Rio.

Rio got the message, climbing on top of Agatha, wedging one of her thighs between Agatha’s. She tried to find purchase in Rio’s hair, just anywhere to touch her, but as Rio kissed and sucked down her neck, she pinned Agatha’s wrists down.

She had to make a mental note to do more than cardio because the ease with which Rio overpowered her was starting to piss her off. Her hips started moving on their own accord, grinding against Rio’s thigh.

Agatha kept trying to free her wrists, but Rio wouldn’t budge, god damnit.

“You’re squirmy.” Rio noted, teeth sinking into Agatha's collarbone, resulting in a high-pitched whine.

“You haven’t fucked me in a month-”

“Not true.”

“To completion.” Agatha rolled her eyes. “Which, if you ever do that again, I will stab you and not in a sexy way.”

Rio looked down at her and smirked. “Yes ma’am.”

Agatha kept her hips rutting, her arousal smeared against Rio’s thigh. “Now, either fuck me or cut me, dealer’s choice.”

Rio didn’t say anything, just released her wrists before getting up and walking to her dresser.

And even though Agatha definitely did not mind staring at her ass while she dug around for something, “What did I just say?” She groaned, propping herself up on her elbows.

“Relax.” Rio hid whatever she had in her hands behind her back as she approached, climbing back on the bed. “Give me your hands.”

“Why?”

“Because you keep squirming and I need both my hands.”

Agatha confidently held out her wrists, honestly whatever would get this moving along was more than fine with her.

Rio’s fingers worked quickly, the very familiar and worn fabric being methodically wrapped around Agatha’s wrists, binding them together.

Rio stole the fucking flag from her dad’s office.

“Oh you utter fucking freak.” She smirked as Rio checked her work, making sure the flag wasn’t tied too tight.

“It’s our sex flag now, I’m very sentimental.” Rio pushed Agatha to lay flat against the mattress, arms above her head.

“And patriotic, apparently.”

“May god bless the USA. Feel okay?”

“Yes, the American flag that we have now desecrated twice feels amazing, thank you baby.”

She chuckled before leaning down, kissing Agatha with a tenderness that was a stark contrast to what they were about to do.

“I love your lips.” Rio murmured, dropping her mouth further down. “And your jaw.”

Agatha tilted her head back to give Rio more access. “Uh-huh.”

“Your neck and that one little vein that pops out when you’re pissed.” Rio spoke before running her tongue along that specific vein, gently nipping at it. “I wanna bite it every time I see it.”

Agatha’s hands twitched against the flag, involuntarily trying to reach out.

Okay yeah, she was squirmy. But Rio was torturing her, all the anticipation, none of the action.

“Your collarbones.” Rio continued, placing a chaste kiss to the teeth markings she’d left earlier. “The hollow of your throat…”

“Rio, if you don’t do you don’t do something soon-”

The threat fell on deaf ears, Rio simply just moving her mouth to Agatha’s chest. “And your sternum.” Rio’s hands came up to her breasts, palming them. “Your tits, especially that one little freckle underneath your left one.”

At least her fingers started rolling Agatha’s nipples as she spoke, giving her some sort of stimulation. She arched her back into the touch, hoping to a god that didn’t exist that Rio would give her more before she started dripping onto the sheets.

“Please.” Agatha husked. “I need more.”

“You’ll get more,” Rio reassured, hands sliding down Agatha’s waist. “Just wanna appreciate my canvas first.”

She almost cackled at the sappiness of it, of Rio treating Agatha like she was a deity to be worshipped rather than a mortal waiting to be sliced open.

But as Rio’s eyes met her own, worship seemed accurate.

Deity, more than possible

“I love your stomach, the soft slope of it.” Rio said as her finger trailed lightly against her abdomen. “Love how it clenches when you ride, the stretch marks around your hips.”

Agatha didn’t like those marks, the ones she got from carrying Nicky. But she never missed the way Rio looked at them, kissed them, traced them whenever they had sex.

“They’re a close second to the ones on your ass.” Rio dragged her blunt nails around Agatha’s hips to her lower back, where her back dimples were, where the stretch marks were.

Agatha didn’t particularly care for those ones either, the ones that came from aging. It’s not that she hated them, just didn’t really think about them. But Agatha always felt Rio specifically place her hands on them whenever she fucked Agatha from behind.

One of Rio’s hands trailed back around, falling between Agatha’s thighs, cupping her cunt. “Your pussy, I think it’s the most perfect one I’ve ever seen, or tasted.”

“Think?” Agatha hissed, she snapped her legs shut, unapologetically crushing Rio’s wrist.

She winced. “Know, I know it is.”

Agatha relaxed her legs again. “Thought so.”

Rio’s hand stayed there though, her nails combing through the barely trimmed hair, spreading Agatha’s arousal and making it sticky. “And your bush-”

“Yes, I saw the t-shirt baby.” Agatha said, canting her hips to try and get Rio to do something.

“But yours has some gray in it, I drool any time I find a new one.”

Well yes, because Agatha wasn’t about to dye or shave her bush. “You should feel honored you even get to see it.”

“I do.” Rio placed a fleeting kiss to her mons before tilting her head and resting it against Agatha’s thigh. “I’m not worthy.”

Agatha looked down at Rio lolling her head against Agatha’s thigh, gigantic copper eyes staring at her like she was something holy. Something to live and die and kill for. Something to love.

Something good.

Before she could respond, Rio was already turning her head to bite at the soft flesh of her leg. “And your thighs, I would’ve happily died between them.”

“Take any longer and you will.” Agatha said in lieu of how Rio’s love made her feel. Everything was too soft and nice and she needed them not to be.

“Promise?” Rio smirked, sitting up again.

“Finally.” Agatha said under her breath, watching as Rio grabbed the knife and situated herself so she was straddling Agatha’s stomach.

Rio tucked a lock of hair behind Agatha’s ear, “Let me know if you need me to stop.”

“Highly doubt it.” Agatha acknowledged, arching her back. “I trust you.”

She smiled, that stupidly endearing tooth gap peeking through curled lips. “I love you.”

Agatha didn’t respond as the fine point of the blade came to her skin, right next to that freckle under her left breast that Rio loved so much, right next to her heart.

Rio’s eyes flickered up, waiting for Agatha’s cue, simply holding the knife without pressing.

“Do it.”

On Agatha’s command, Rio pressed down, blade piercing flesh. Agatha kept her torso still, but threw her head back as her skin was severed from itself like thread from fabric.

Rio’s hand stayed steady as she made the first line, blood pooling out. “Good?”

“So- so good.” Agatha breathed out, because she was certain if she had any stimulation against her clit right now, she would’ve come on the spot. “Keep going.”

Agatha felt tears well again, not from pain, not from anything external. But from the knowledge that even if they were temporary, Rio’s love wasn’t. A tangible reminder carved into her that proved that Agatha Harkness did have a heart, and that it belonged to Rio.

A way to carry Rio with her always.

She felt the next line, the curvature of the next one. She felt the blood steadily drip down her ribs, flowing past the slope of her waist, down her stomach.

Rio lifted the blade once more before finishing her final line. “Now your body reflects it.”

Agatha felt dazed, and not from the minimal blood loss. “Reflects what?”

“That you’re mine.”

A single, bloodied R now stood out against pale skin. Red and raw and all because of Rio.

Agatha blinked a few times, trying to clear her view from tears. “Good.”

“Oh baby,” Rio leaned over, pressing lingering kisses to her cheeks. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

“Rio, touch me.” Agatha’s voice broke, desperate. “Fuck me.”

“Anything you want.” Rio nodded, setting the knife aside. “How?”

“Strap, I wanna be full of you.”

She grinned, getting up and coming back at breakneck speed, harness on and strap attached.

“Do you want to flip over?” Rio asked, bending over and licking the blood trickling down Agatha’s body.

Agatha shook her head. “I want to see you.”

Rio’s eyes locked onto Agatha’s. “You do?”

“Please.” Agatha begged.

Rio gazed at her all too tenderly, placing one last kiss to the wound before lining up the strap. “Baby, you’re dripping-”

“I wonder fucking why.” Agatha scolded, hands straining against the flag, wanting to pull Rio closer.

Her hands dug into Agatha’s hips as she did just that, pulled her closer, sinking into Agatha with no resistance.

A feral whine ripped from Agatha’s throat as Rio bottomed out, pulling back and thrusting forward. She draped her arms over Rio’s shoulders, her bound hands essentially trapping Rio on top of her.

If she contorted her hands, she could brush them against the ends of Rio’s hair. And though they had fucked more times than Agatha could count, this time felt like it held something more. As she peered into those dark brown eyes with little gold flecks around the iris, this time felt different.

“I missed you.” Agatha moaned as Rio picked up the pace. “God, fuck-”

“I missed you so much, baby” Rio said, one hand supporting herself and the other still on Agatha’s hip, making sure she felt the full force of each return. “So fucking much.”

This might’ve been missionary and they might’ve done it before, but the way their bodies were intertwined made it brand new. How Agatha looked at Rio as the strap hit deep inside her. How Agatha allowed herself to look at Rio, how she allowed herself to have this.

“Rio…” She whimpered, “I’m not gonna last.”

She knew she wasn’t, she was painfully close ever since that fucking knife got involved. Rio’s forehead rested against Agatha’s, her nose nuzzling against Agatha’s.

She didn’t hesitate, dropping her hand to Agatha’s clit. “Come for me, mi amor.”

Oh-

The pet name, the Spanish-

Agatha’s eyes screwed shut as her orgasm tore through her, screaming bloody murder. Rio didn’t stop, she kept going before Agatha could come down, lightly pinching her clit and forcing her to come again.

“Good girl.” Rio whispered against her ear.

She fluttered eyes open when she had come back down to earth, lazily smiling. “If you untie me, I’ll suck your cock.”

Rio’s face flushed as she awkwardly pulled out before undoing the bindings around her wrists.

Agatha flipped them over, Rio now on her back. She finally made good on her promise to lick the dried blood off Rio's neck, the metallic taste of herself covering her taste buds. She trailed her mouth down further, taking one of Rio’s nipples into her mouth and sucking.

“Shit.” Rio hissed, threading her hand in Agatha’s mane.

Agatha smirked when she got to Rio’s abs. “I’m gonna ride these one day.”

“Please.” She moaned at the image, at the thought of Agatha using her to get herself off.

“Another time, baby.” Agatha murmured, briefly getting up before dropping to her knees beside the bed, patting the mattress to indicate where she wanted Rio. “C’mere.”

Rio scrambled to sit on the edge, gazing down at Agatha with unbridled lust.

“Hold my hair back, love.” Agatha told, feeling a hand collect the strands and hold them in a fist.

She ran her tongue from the base of the strap, along the shaft, tasting herself. Agatha looked at Rio as she did so, the other woman slack-jawed and winded like she had just run a marathon.

Agatha placed a hand on either one of Rio’s thighs before opening her mouth and taking the length of Rio’s cock. She didn’t really have much of a gag reflex, but that wasn’t any fun. So when the tip hit the back of Agatha’s throat, she gagged anyway.

Rio’s hand started pushing down at the same time, hips rocking. “Good girl, madam president.”

Agatha’s eyes nearly rolled back in her head as spit seeped out of the corners of her mouth, a distorted whine filling the room.

“So fucking good on your knees for me,” Rio praised. “Drooling around my dick.”

She clenched her own thighs together, the blood flow from Rio’s words hitting her clit.

Agatha extended her thumb so the grind pad at the base of the strap would push against Rio’s clit, and relaxed her throat as Rio fucked it.

Apparently, she had saved all of her energy for this, because Rio thrust harder than she did before. Maybe it was the image of having a powerful woman on her knees, but Agatha suspected it had more to do with it being her. With it being Agatha on her knee and not just the vice president of America.

“Oh god.” Rio moaned, hips stuttering. The tip of the strap was almost certainly going to lightly bruise her soft palate tomorrow, but it was worth the look of euphoria on Rio’s face.

Agatha pushed her head as far as possible, letting her nose brush Rio’s stomach.

“F-fuck.” Rio’s hips came to a halt as the strap sat in Agatha’s throat. Her hand had a vice grip on Agatha’s hair as she came, softly moaning as her stomach tensed.

Rio pulled her back after a moment, leaning down to kiss Agatha's swollen and spit-stained lips. Agatha expected Rio to let go but instead she just pulled her up and onto the bed by the hold in her hair. Forcing Agatha to lay on her stomach, the blood from Rio’s cut spilling onto the duvet.

Rio positioned herself behind Agatha, snapping her head back to speak against her ear. “How turned on did that make you? Are you desperate again just from choking around me?”

Fucking, obviously.

Agatha pushed hips back. “More.”

“How about this, I put my cock in you again, write something else.” Rio’s voice was deadly. “And if you can behave, I’ll fuck you until you tap out.”

Agatha grinned. “You just wanna see my ass bleed.”

“Is that a no?”

“Pick up the fucking knife.” Agatha propped herself onto her elbows, resting her weight on her knees. “Do your worst.”

And though she couldn’t see Rio, she was sure her face looked similar to a kid’s on Christmas.

Rio shuffled around for a minute before the tip of the strap parted her again, filling Agatha to the hilt. Rio rested one hand on the stretch marks she loved so much, the other holding the already bloodied knife.

“Stay still.” Rio instructed while six and a half inches deep.

“Quit stalling.” Agatha huffed.

“As you wish, my love.” She rasped, resting the blade on the high point on her right asscheek.

Agatha sharply inhaled as Rio dragged the knife down, creating the first line. For some reason, this time felt more intense than the first. She involuntarily clenched around the strap, head dropping against the bed, fingers clutching the sheets.

Two smaller lines were added, then another longer line. In her head, Agatha suspected the letter M.

Another line, then three more. Agatha let out pathetic whimpers and stifled shrieks. Willing herself to stay put despite leaking around the strap, despite the desire to push back and gain some friction.

“Jesus.” Agatha moaned. “Writing a- a fucking novel back there?”

Rio chuckled but kept going, careful with each incision.

She fought, she really fucking did, until she was almost home free. Until the last line of the last letter that ended dangerously close to her hip. The piercing of flesh so close to bone was delicious, the pain making her clench again, coming without Rio having done anything.

A pornographic moan left her lips, her body shuddering as her orgasm violently crashed into her, hands tearing the sheets in her grasp.

“Did you just come?” Rio sounded astonished rather than angry.

“I- I couldn’t control it.”

Rio didn’t hesitate, dropping the knife and bringing her hand down to the fresh cuts, harshly spanking the bloody wound.

“Fuck!” Agatha screeched, pushing back to get more. “Again.”

“Dirty girl.” She muttered, making contact again, holding her hand there and grabbing the aching flesh. “Now who’s a pain slut?”

“Rio-”

“Say it.” Rio moved her hips fractionally, just enough to incentivize.

“I’m a pain slut.”

Another smack, slick and blood dripping down Agatha’s trembling thighs.

“Again.” Rio demanded.

“Oh fuck, I’m-” She began when Rio pulled out almost entirely before sinking back in, causing her to hiccup in her response. “Pain slut.”

Rio’s pace picked up, brutally fucking into her as she brought her hand down against the angry skin. “Again.”

Agatha lost track of how many times she said it, how many blows she took, but each one felt like ecstasy. Her whole body boiling down to nothing but Rio. Rio’s voice, Rio’s touches, Rio’s scent.

Eventually, after another orgasm or three, the sentence had morphed.

“I’m your slut.” Agatha whined, drooling onto the duvet.

Rio must’ve felt herself starting to wane, folding her front over Agatha’s back intertwining her bloodied fingers with Agatha’s as she thrust.

“One more, baby.” Rio softly spoke. “Can you give me one more?”

Agatha weakly nodded. “Y-yeah.”

Rio placed a kiss to her shoulder, moving with renewed purpose, her hips snapping furiously. “Good girl. You’re taking it so well.”

The pain was a faint feeling now, the throbbing below her breast and on her ass a distant memory as she clenched one last time, giving everything she had left to Rio.

Her vision went blurry and her body went numb as she came for possibly the hundredth time. Going limp on the bed, body fucked out into the matress. Rio’s body tensed behind her before pulling out completely.

She twitched at the emptiness, suddenly a foreign feeling.

Agatha stayed paralyzed on the bed as Rio ran around the room, discarding the strap and the knife before coming back to her on the bed.

“How’re you feeling, love?” Rio’s voice was gentle, as was the hand she placed on Agatha's back.

Agatha shot up a thumbs up. “Didn’t break my back this time.”

“Makes sense because I definitely fucked up my hip.” Rio smiled.

“Now who’s old.” Agatha finally opened her eyes, finding Rio still there, still in love.

“Bath?”

“My legs don’t work.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Ugggghhh.” She groaned, halfway sitting up to have Rio help her. “Your sheets are fucked.” Agatha said as she noticed the fucking crime scene splattered across the bed.

“I have a spare set, I’ll change them before we go to bed.” Rio spoke, hoisting her up.

She leaned on Rio during the short walk to the bathroom, watching as Rio drew a bath. Agatha looked at herself in the mirror hung above the sink. Hair snarled, bruises on her neck and collarbone from Rio’s teeth, R carved on her ribs, dried blood staining her abdomen. She turned around and twisted her body to see the blood on her thighs, bright red ass, and MINE etched into her skin.

“Subtle.” Agatha pursed her lips, eyes heavy with exhaustion.

“C’mon, baby.” Rio tugged her over to the tub, helping her assume their regular position.

Rio leaning against the back of the tub and Agatha leaning against Rio. Rio washed her hair and her wounds, careful not to irritate them further. She got out first, pressing a kiss to Agatha’s temple before getting up and going to change the sheets.

When she returned, she helped Agatha out of the tub. Treating her with a care that Agatha hadn’t received in decades, maybe ever. She bandaged the cuts, considerate in the way she applied an antibiotic cream. Rio leant her an XXXL t-shirt to sleep in, one that said ‘She Cuban on my missile til I cry, sis’ which made Agatha giggle.

“Do you own any normal shirts?”

“Targeted ads are a bitch.” Rio laughed as she pulled the worn fabric over Agatha’s head, dressed in boxers and a tank top. “And only the ones I wear to work.”

Oh, right-

Work.

There was still work outside of this.

Agatha was still a presidential candidate.

Agatha was still vice president.

And yet, this felt better than either of those titles.

Not that it meant anything, Agatha was also sure heroin would feel good too.

Rio found a new toothbrush for Agatha, brushing her teeth while Agatha peed, then vice versa.

Agatha rested her head on Rio’s sternum as Rio clicked off the lamp when they got into bed.

Her body was tired, her brain even more so.

“Agatha?” Rio spoke into the darkness of the room.

“Hmm?”

A silence followed, a pause.

Rio's arms around her squeezed a little tighter.

“I love you.”

Agatha let her eyes shut, the rhythmic up and down of Rio’s chest lulling her.

“I love you too.”

The next part of the admission went unspoken, but both knew what it was.

Dangling over them like a sword ready to drop.

For now.

Chapter Text

Rio blearily opened her eyes, flashes of the night before flooding her now conscious brain.

Agatha standing at her door in the pouring rain.

Like sleep is a punishment because I’d rather stay awake and have more time with you, but I’ve also never slept better.

Agatha arching into Rio’s knife like it was a soft caress rather than a harsh blade.

I want to see you.

Agatha in Rio’s home, in Rio’s bed, in Rio’s t-shirt.

I love you too.

She untangled herself from the sheets and Agatha’s limbs, kissing her cheek before getting up. Rio winced at being upright, clutching her hip on her right side. It had felt a little strained by the end of last night, but now it was sore. But Rio could play through the pain, crossing the room and shoving the bloodied sheets and Agatha’s workout clothes into a laundry basket.

Rio went downstairs, throwing everything into the washing machine. Well, everything except for Agatha’s underwear. If those happened to go missing, Rio wouldn’t know a thing. She definitely wouldn’t have tucked them away into an undisclosed location to enjoy at a later date.

No, definitely not.

She also cleaned the strap and the knife, though she was pretty sure she’d never be able to use that peeling knife again without blushing.

Rio debated waking Agatha up, but decided that her body probably needed the rest considering everything it had gone through last night. However, she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t just a tiny bit excited to see Agatha try and sit down today.

Spanking her actively bleeding wound shouldn't have been as erotic as it was, but Rio knew she’d be jacking off to that memory for years to come.

Years she wouldn’t have with Agatha.

Years of Agatha in an absolute position of power, where Rio couldn’t reach her.

Years, presumably eight, where Rio would watch from a distance. Where she would be in the shadows, waiting for Agatha’s light to shine on her again.

And she could live with that, she had to.

Because she said she would.

Rio walked (hobbled) into the kitchen to start breakfast, knowing Agatha needed something substantial to eat when she got up. Luckily she had some coffee left over from a ‘welcome to the campaign’ present Jen had gotten her, it also included a very shitty little plant that Rio nurtured back from the brink of death.

As she heated the pan on the stove top and popped a few ibuprofen, Rio wondered just how serious Agatha was last night.

Not about the love or the sex, but about everything else.

I wouldn’t ask you to quit.

But then nothing changes and you’re still forced to be a secret.

And Rio was telling the truth then, that she’d take Agatha however she could get her. Because at least she knew it meant something to Agatha, that she meant something to Agatha.

I wouldn’t ask you to quit.

Rio wouldn’t even know how’d she respond if Agatha did ask her. Two months ago she’d cackle in Agatha’s face. One month ago she’d give a barely audible chuckle and decline. But now?

Now she’d hesitate.

She’d fucking hesitate, which was saying a lot for someone who had spent their entire adult life pursuing one career, one goal.

Rio also wouldn’t ask Agatha to give up everything she had been working towards for decades. Agatha shouldn’t have to sacrifice her career either. Powerful women were always expected to make themselves smaller in their relationships and Rio didn’t want that. Rio loved Agatha because of her ruthlessness, not in spite of it.

Yes, there was the chance that Agatha could lose, but Rio didn’t want to think about it. She didn’t want to think about how much of a relief it would be. How it’d be countless jobs axed, a country in shambles, and maybe even a shot at that life in Maine.

There’s always Maine.

Agatha could retire, write a memoir that she would get an obscene amount of money for.

Rio could get that professor gig.

A cottage in the woods.

A life where Rio cooked breakfast while Agatha slept.

She pushed around the spatula, zoning out as her mind wandered.

Rio would have a garden, a big one. She’d have plants and herbs and flowers.

Agatha could have her own study, filled to the brim with her numerous trashy books.

And they’d spend their nights together, only to wake up the next morning the exact same way.

She heard the stairs creak, the sound of uncoordinated footsteps coming closer.

“Baby?” Agatha’s raspy morning voice called.

Rio smiled. “Kitchen!”

A minute later, Agatha shuffled in, hair wild and shirt hanging off her frame. She was blinking like the sunlight coming in through the windows was a personal attack on her eyeballs. “Coffee?”

Rio set down the spatula, holding up the freshly brewed coffee.

“God, you’re such a fucking millennial.” She pointed at the french press. “Fucking hipsters…”

“Good morning to you too, my love.” Rio snarked, placing the press and a mug on the island in front of Agatha.

Agatha groaned, hands reaching out for the coffee. “Morning.”

Rio turned back to the stove, clicking it off and grabbing plates.

She knew the exact moment Agatha tried to sit on one of the stools at the island because-

“Ssssssssss-” Agatha hissed, “-on of a bitch.”

Rio laughed to herself, bringing the plates over and placing them down. She leaned in, giving Agatha a chaste kiss. “How’s your ass?”

“Wouldn't you like to know.” She spoke, white knuckling her mug of coffee.

Rio sat down next to her. “I would, yes.”

“That bus is going to be torture, thanks.” Agatha finally looked down at her plate. “You made me breakfast?”

“Well, I usually like to treat a lady after making her bleed. I’m a gentleman like that.”

Agatha twitched, putting more weight on her left side than her right, trying to avoid where MINE was carved into her.

“How’s your hip?”

Rio grinned. “Better than your ass.”

Agatha lightly smacked her shoulder. “Should’ve strangled you when I had the chance.”

“I’m not stopping you.”

She let out an unholy moan as she took a bite of her food. “Oh my god.”

“Good?”

“Mother of fuck, yes.”

“It’s just an omelet baby, not a blade. No need to have an orgasm about it.”

“Shit,” Agatha took another bite. “If this is what marriage is like, I understand the appeal.”

Nobody had mentioned marriage.

“Something tells me you’d still be the one getting on your knees to do your wifely duties.”

Agatha didn’t even take the bait, just kept eating. “Yeah, actually. You want head?”

Rio chuckled. “Maybe after we finish eating.”

“What’s in this? It’s delicious.”

“Peppers, mushrooms, seasoning…the usual.” Rio tilted her head. “I think part of it might be you running several miles in the rain last night before experiencing blood loss.”

“It also didn’t help that Jen forced me to eat a salad.”

“You ate a salad?!”

“The cruelty still astonishes me…”

After breakfast, they went back upstairs and into the bathroom so Rio could redo Agatha’s bandages. That led to Agatha being bent over the counter with her ass in the air, which led to Rio dropping to her knees and eating her out. Which led to Agatha turning around and pushing her to the floor before situating herself between Rio’s legs and returning the favor.

Rio’s face flushed, not from Agatha’s tongue inside of her, but from Agatha’s hands on her hips. They weren't stationary, her fingers were massaging the muscle as her tongue worked. Giving Rio head while simultaneously trying to relieve some of the pain in her hip.

That led them back to bed where Rio silently thanked herself for remembering to clean the strap this morning. Ultimately, that left them breathless and sweaty because apparently love made Agatha more insatiable than before. And yeah, Rio’s hip was killing her, but again, she’d play through the pain.

After lunch and a shower, they retired to the living room, dressed in more of Rio’s nonsensical shirts and boxers. Rio sat behind Agatha because she had offered (begged) to help her do her hair. The TV was on, but neither of them really watched it.

Rio’s focus was on making sure the braid she was currently forming was nothing short of perfect. Her fingers worked as Agatha let out content hums of approval, her head tipping back further and further.

“You don’t strike me as the braiding type.” Agatha said, a smirk evident in her tone.

“My mom always did mine for hockey, I used to watch in the mirror and I picked it up.”

“Your mom did your hair?”

Rio fondly chuckled. “Yeah, it was the only ‘girly’ thing I’d let her do.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“She gave up eventually, got me and my papá a matching pair of overalls when I was ten.” Rio kept the strands precise. “I think she got tired of wasting money on skirts when all I wanted to do was climb trees and play in the dirt.”

“Play in the dirt?”

“I helped my papá garden a lot. It was our thing.”

“At least she didn’t force you.” Agatha genuinely reasoned.

“I did wear a dress to my prom, I thought it was the least I could do.”

“The least you could do?”

Rio sighed. “My mom gave up a lot to be with my dad.”

“Oh?” Agatha tried turning her head, but Rio’s hold only tightened.

“Uh-uh.” She scolded. “You’re not ruining my hard work.”

“Then speak faster.”

“My mom’s very white and conservative family weren’t exactly supportive of the fact that she was marrying a latino man. It was middle of nowhere Iowa in the seventies-”

“So they were racist.”

Rio almost snorted at Agatha’s bluntness.

“Yeah, they were.” Rio crossed another lock over itself. “They told her if she married him, they’d disown her. Never speak to her, wouldn’t see any kids she had as their grandchildren, yadda, yadda.”

“Jesus.”

“She didn’t talk about it a lot but I knew it must hurt. So I figured if she wanted me to wear a dress for one night, then fine. She never asked anything of me before and she just wanted a nice picture to show off to her friends.”

“Did she ever regret it?”

“Regret what?”

“Giving that up? For your dad? The sacrifice.”

The energy shifted, because this was no longer just about Rio’s parents.

The things we do for love, right?

“No.” She swallowed. “They were grossly in love my whole childhood. Papá used to make bouquets for her from his garden, he’d always let me pick which flowers. And she’d give him a hard time for tracking mud into the house but when he handed her that bouquet…”

“What?”

“She’d just- she’d get this smile. Like she never even considered the alternative. Like he was worth the loss because she gained so much more from our family.” Rio finished the braid, tying it off. “Honestly, them dying together was a kind of a comfort. They wouldn’t have done well without one another. One of them probably would’ve died of a broken heart a few months later.”

“Sounds grim.”

“What?”

Agatha sunk against Rio, head falling against her shoulder and looking up. “Being so in love with someone that you couldn’t live without them.”

“I think it just means that you’ve found your other half.”

Agatha blinked. “People are born whole to begin with.”

“Doesn’t mean others can’t be a part of you. My parents will always be a part of me just like Nicky will always be a part of you.”

Just like Agatha will always be a part of Rio.

She cleared her throat. “Did you get to come out before they passed?”

“Oh, yeah.” Rio’s arms wrapped around her waist. “Papá said he loved me, my mom asked me to marry a girl who she could get her nails done with.”

“I think they'd be proud of you.” Agatha quietly murmured.

“I think Nicky would be proud of you.”

“Pfft.” She scoffed. “Sure.”

“Hey,” Rio looked down at her. “I’m proud of you.”

Agatha gently shook her head. “Keep the praise kink to the bedroom.”

Rio was more than aware that love wouldn’t magically fix Agatha’s emotional avoidance, that’s not how love worked. But she was making progress and that’s what mattered.

“I don’t need to be fucking you to praise you.”

Agatha grinned. “Yeah but it’s so much better that way.”

“Hmm.” She leaned down, kissing her languidly. For the first time in their relationship, they didn’t have to rush back to reality. Rio could take her time as she kissed Agatha, intertwined and lazily sprawled out on the couch on a Saturday afternoon.

Once the sun had set, they ordered in from the Thai place around the corner from Rio’s brownstone. They sat on the floor and ate at the coffee table, Agatha sat on a throw pillow because the hardwood was too brutal for her otherwise.

“Is Kate ever coming back for you?” Rio asked as Agatha laid on top of her, head turned towards the TV playing Heathers on one of those ‘throwback to the 80’s’ channels. It was around 10PM and Rio couldn’t remember the last time she had spent a whole day doing nothing with another person.

“Who knows.” Agatha slow blinked like a cat when they're trying to convey affection. “Why? Are you kicking me out?”

“No.” Rio twirled the loose ends of Agatha’s braid around her fingers. “Just wanna prepare for-”

She went quiet.

Agatha filled in the blank. “For when this ends?”

Rio had truly meant it only in the context of this weekend, but everything came back to that stupid fucking expiration date.

Agatha spoke again. “I regret wasting a month now.”

“Me too, I even had a gift for your birthday wrapped and everything.”

“Gift?” Agatha perked up like when a dog hears the word ‘treat’. “Go on…”

“I think I’ll save it for a different occasion.”

Like her inauguration.

“So I just get nothing now?”

“I’m sure Jen got you something.”

“Jen spent the night with Alice.”

“What did you do?”

Agatha shrugged. “Treated myself to an insanely expensive bottle of scotch in my hotel room.”

“That’s it?”

Rio had almost cracked the night of Agatha’s birthday, so much so that she stood outside her hotel room door trying to gather the strength to knock. She didn’t, obviously. Convincing herself that it probably wouldn’t matter to Agatha.

“It’s the usual way I spend my birthdays…or most holidays.” Agatha quickly corrected herself. “Minus the soulsucking hotel room.”

“Okay, that’s grim.”

“How do you spend your birthdays?”

“Um, I make plans with my cousin-” Rio sighed. “Fuck, I forgot to call her back today.”

“Yeah, about that…when were you going to tell me you speak Spanish?”

“I didn’t think you’d care.”

“Why wouldn’t I care? It’s a part of you and it’s also really fucking hot.”

Rio raised her eyebrows. “Yeah?”

“Mi amor?” Agatha smiled before biting her lip. “Hot.”

“Yeah, baby?” She leaned in at that, her lips brushing the shell of Agatha’s ear. “Me encanta tu sonrisa.”

Apparently Agatha understood. “My smile? Are you twelve? Give me something here…”

“Me vuelves loca.” Rio smirked, placing her lips to Agatha’s neck. “Te deseo.”

“How could you not?” She tilted her head for Rio before sitting up, straddling her.

Rio pulled her closer. “Te tengo ganas.”

“So take me.”

They didn’t make it back to the bedroom before Winona Ryder killed the main guy, honestly Rio wasn’t paying attention to the movie any longer as Agatha writhed on the couch with Rio’s fingers inside her.

Sunday morning came, as did Agatha as they fucked for quite possibly the fiftieth time in the span of less than forty-eight hours. It’s like they were trying to stockpile time and orgasms.

Rio’s hip was in fucking agony but as Agatha screamed and cried and whimpered, Rio didn’t really give a fuck. She was fully collapsed on the bed, hair splayed against the pillow, wavy from the braid of last night.

Agatha’s hands were digging into Rio’s ass, holding on as Rio drove the strap into her over and over.

“Fuck-” Agatha strained. “Fuck! Fuck, Rio- baby, god!” She babbled with Rio’s hand around her neck.

Rio felt her hip starting to-

Click?

Was click the right word?

It kind of felt like when you eat pussy for too long and your jaw starts locking. Although in Rio’s opinion, eating pussy for too long was a concept that didn’t fucking exist.

“Shit, Agatha.” Rio huskily groaned.

Agatha’s back bowed off the bed, nails dragging against Rio's ass and lower back. “Harder, baby.”

Rio complied, forcing her body to obey the command of the goddess currently underneath her.

“Good boy.” Agatha praised through unfocused eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“Agatha- Ag-” Rio spoke through tears pricking her eyes. “Baby…”

Agatha’s eyebrows furrowed. “Baby?”

Rio thrust again and something snapped.

Like, physically inside her body.

“GOD!” Rio’s body went down as she let out a blood curdling scream at the pain, crushing the goddess currently underneath her.

“Rio?!”

“Fuck! Fuck!” She winced, fully sobbing.

Her hip was on fire, the kind that sends tiny shooting pains. A million spiders were all biting the bone at once, coiling themselves around the nerve.

Agatha gently rolled her over, staring down at her with terror. “Baby, talk to me. What the fuck is going on?!”

Rio clutched at the spot. “My hip.”

“You hadn’t said anything about it since yesterday morning!”

“It’s fine.” She gritted her teeth. “You’ll just have to ride.”

“Are you fucking with me right now?”

“No. Just-” Rio felt faint, “Just c’mon…”

“Oh my fucking god, you’re serious?!”

“You were close.”

“Yeah, and it would’ve been number three. You should’ve said something.” Agatha spoke hastily, undoing the harness. “We have to get you to a hospital.”

“I can’t drive like this and you can’t be seen driving me or even coming in with me. Hell, your license has been expired for years.”

She rolled her eyes, flinging the strap on behind her. “Where’s your phone?”

Agatha didn’t have hers, it was back at her house.

“Nightstand.” Rio said through her cries. “I think I might’ve fucked it up really bad, baby.”

“You think?!” She cocked her head, scrambling over Rio and grabbing her phone.

“Who are you calling?”

“Shut up.”

An hour later, after getting dressed and looking as presentable as possible, Agatha helped Rio down the stairs.

She had changed back into her leggings and Yale sweater from Friday while Rio wore Agatha’s Georgetown sweater and jeans. They found an umbrella for Rio to use as a makeshift cane, easing some of the weight Rio normally put on it.

Each step hurt like a bitch, but it was either this or calling an ambulance. And besides the thousand dollar bill from simply just getting a ride to the hospital via ambulance, they couldn’t risk paramedics seeing the vice president of America in Rio’s home.

There was a knock on the door, and Agatha opened it.

“Hi guys!” William smiled, waving around the keys to his Subaru. “I heard someone needs a ride.”

“If you utter one word of this, I will cut off your balls and mount them on my wall like a buck’s head, got it?” Agatha hissed.

“Yes ma’am.” William’s smile faded.

“Kate’s coming to get me any minute, so it’s just you and Rio. Go in with her and report everything back to me. Everything.”

“Got it.”

Agatha looked at him expectantly. “Go start the car!”

“Right!” He ran away.

She turned around to where Rio sat on the bottom step, crouching down. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“Revenge usually isn’t fun.”

“You’ll never let that go, will you?”

“You bragged about breaking my back, I get to be a dick about your hip.”

“At this point we’ll kill each other having sex.”

“Hmm.” She winked. “What a way to go though.”

Rio chuckled despite the searing agony she was in. “Fuck off.”

“I love you.”

Her breath caught. “I love you too.”

“Hiiiiiiiiii.” Kate barged through the front door. “I’m here to collect you from your sexcapade, madam vice president.”

Agatha scoffed but gave Rio a kiss, then another, then one more. Like she didn’t want to part from her.

Blue eyes looked into hers, just as glassy with tears but for a different reason. “Te amo.”

Rio kissed her one more time too, slow and purposeful. “Te amo, cariño.”

“Stop with the Spanish or I’ll break your other hip.”

“Mmmmh, tempting.”

“Gross.” Kate fake coughed.

“Okay, fuck!” Agatha finally backed away, wiping her eyes. “Let’s go.”

As they left, William ran back in, helping Rio to the car.

Rio wished they had sat in silence, instead she suffered as William blasted Phoebe Bridgers the entire drive to George Washington hospital.

They waited in the ER after Rio filled out the paperwork.

“What happened to your hip?” He cluelessly asked.

“Agatha didn’t tell you?”

“Nope. Just said you hurt yourself doing strenuous activities.”

“William.” She deadpanned.

“Yeah?”

She raised a single brow. “William…”

He blinked, then pinched his lips. “What?”

Rio smirked. “Will-iam.”

His eyes bugged. “Oh it’s sex!”

A few people in the ER gave the two some odd looks.

“Dude, shut the fuck up.” Rio whispered. “But happy you got there eventually.”

Once she was actually admitted, she had to go through the mortifying process of explaining her injury.

“I was um, working out.” She nervously scratched her head.

The poor, exhausted intern scribbled something down. “What exactly?”

“Uh, thrusting.”

“Like with weights?”

“...Yeah.”

“How fast?”

“Very. Like…very.” Her cheeks went red. “Just…yeah really, really fast.”

The intern tilted her head. “Sex?”

Rio clenched her jaw. “Yup.”

“You could’ve just said that, you know how many people come in here with sex injuries? A lot.”

“Excuse me for wanting to keep a little mystery alive.”

“When did the pain start?” The intern stayed unamused.

“Friday.”

“And did you do anything to combat it?”

“Ibuprofen.”

“Anything else?”

“My-” Rio knew the word she wanted to say, but it felt strange to verbalize it. “Girlfriend tried massaging it.”

“And did the pain subside?”

“No.”

“So did you do anything else?”

“No…”

“And kept having sex?”

“Yes.”

“Right…” The intern scribbled more down.

“Okay, well when you put it like that, I sound stupid.”

“If the shoe fits…”

“Listen, my girlfriend isn’t in town a lot. We don’t get that much quality time together.”

“And where is she now?”

“Had to go back to work.”

The intern bitterly laughed. “We’ll run some tests but personally, sounds like you need a new girlfriend.”

Rio almost fell off the exam bed. “Is that your official diagnosis, doctor?”

She looked up again. “Hey, don’t you work for the VP?”

Rio wanted to die at this point. “Yeah.”

“I love her, really scary and really hot.’

Rio curled her hands into fists by her side. “Okay.”

“Like I’d trust her to run this country, but I also want her to spit on me.”

Agatha spit on Rio, and Rio alone.

If it weren’t for her hip, she’d consider suckerpunching this bitch. “So the tests or….?”

“Right.” She clicked her pen shut and left the room.

As Rio waited, she scrolled her phone, mostly catching up on the latest news cycle she had neglected over the weekend.

Out of pure curiosity, and definitely nothing more, Rio opened a new window and typed in First Ladies.

Simple enough.

Innocent even.

Obviously the first thing that came up was the White House archive listing off every FLOTUS ever.

But then she kept scrolling.

Correction, doom scrolling.

First Lady: a feeble, sexist, and outdated job

Accurate.

FLOTUS Peggy Carter: what you should know and why she rejected taking the last name Rogers

The fact that Peggy never took Steve’s name was a big talking point when he got elected, the public claiming it emasculated him. God forbid a woman keep the name she was born with, the one she built herself upon.

Peggy Carter’s style and what it costs taxpayers

The taxpayers didn’t pay for Peggy’s dresses, just bombs.

FLOTUS pregnant or letting herself go?

That one didn’t even make sense, if anything Peggy looked scarily thin and sickly from the drug habit. Not that Rio particularly blamed her with headlines like these. The scrutiny alone would make Rio drink her own body weight in booze.

Public reacts to First Lady Peggy Carter’s White House Christmas décor

Yeah, Rio remembers people getting upset that it wasn’t religious enough.

Then she clicked on one posted a few days ago.

Peggy Carter, the downfall of Steve Rogers

She locked her phone after that one.

Rio could see the headline now-

Rio Vidal, the downfall of Agatha Harkness

“Miss Vidal?” A nurse popped her head in, rolling in a wheelchair. “Ready for some tests?”

As if life wasn’t testing her enough.

“Yeah.”

On Monday morning, Rio walked into the office with a minimally torn ligament and a cane.

Chapter Text

“What the hell happened to you?!” Jen gawked as Rio entered the office.

Now, Rio had thought about lying.

Tennis.

Pilates.

Yoga.

But ultimately, she didn’t need to, because she wasn’t the vice president and she could break her body having sex.

“Strapped someone too hard.” She smiled, ignoring the daggers her lovely girlfriend was no doubt shooting at her.

Alice burst out cackling, holding a folder over her mouth to try and stifle the sound. “Are you seventy?”

“How does someone in their mid-thirties break their hip during sex?” Wanda added, all-knowing grin on her smug fucking face.

Rio mindlessly twirled her cane against the floor. “It’s not a break, it’s a ligament tear. And it’s ‘cause I fucked up my hip back in high school when I played hockey. You dive a lot as goalie. Had to be on crutches for like six weeks.”

Agatha, noticeably choosing to stand at her desk rather than sit, peered up from a document in her hand. Her hair was down and she had a turtleneck on to cover all of the many, many hickeys Rio had left over the weekend.

She pushed her glasses up to sit on her head. “I thought you played offense.”

Rio internally blushed at Agatha remembering her hockey position. “I did but then my coach kept getting complaints that I was too aggressive, had to switch me to goalie. I was just too good at slamming girls against things.”

Alice scoffed. “Calm down there, grandpa. Whose vagina broke your hip?”

“It’s not broken!” Rio corrected. “And a gentleman never tells.”

“It was Maria Hill’s.” Jen answered her girlfriend's question with ease. “They were cozy at the state dinner and the next day at debate prep, Rio walked in looking like she got mauled.”

Rio quickly peeked at Agatha across the room, lithe fingers now strangling the poor piece of paper in her hand.

But she couldn’t tell the truth, so-

“Was it?” Alice questioned, eyes wide.

“Yeah, Rio.” Wanda sarcastically repeated. “Was it?”

“Unimportant.” She settled for, fearing sending Agatha on a rampage. “May you live until you die.”

“What?” Agatha snorted.

“May you live until you die.” Rio nonchalantly explained. “Like carpe diem or live fast, die young. Live each day like the last…”

“Oh, it so is!” Jen laughed. “Maria Hill. Good for you. She’s hot, smart, fun-”

The sound of paper being torn echoed through the room, everyone’s heads turning to locate the source. Agatha stood behind her desk, paper now ripped to shreds in frustration.

“You good?” Jen asked, confusion lacing her tone.

“Yeah. Yup, just-” She held up her fists full of crumpled paper. “Had a typo.”

“O…kay.” Alice scrunched her face. “We could’ve just gone in and fixed it.”

“Nope.” Agatha dropped the paper shreds. “Not good enough. Home stretch, people. We need to be better than this.”

Jen narrowed her gaze. “It was a typo…”

“And I’m trying to be president, so fuck your typos.” Agatha hissed before looking at William and pointing at the mess on her desk. “Go get a new copy.”

“Do you want them to fix the typo first or…?” He nervously began.

“Now! Go! Go! Go!” She barked, clapping her hands in accordance with her words.

William nodded before bolting out of the office.

Agatha slammed her hands down on her desk. “The incompetency in this office is stagg-er-ing!” She yelled as she flopped down into her chair. “Fuck! Jesus, motherfucking-”

Rio tucked her tongue against her cheek.

Someone forgot about the carvings on her ass.

“What?!” Jen shouted in annoyance. “What now?!”

“Nothing!” Agatha pouted, crossing her arms over chest, sinking farther into her seat. Which undoubtedly meant more pressure on her wound. “Fuck!”

“My god.” Wanda muttered, looking at her phone. “Have you guys seen this?”

“Seen what?” Rio walked over, lurking over Wanda’s shoulder. “Alice, could you turn on the tv? CNN.”

Alice found the remote, flicking it to the correct channel.

“Two different women have come out alleging affairs with Tony Stark.” Ironically enough, Maria Hill reported on the tv. “One in 2010 while his wife, Pepper Potts, was pregnant with their child. Another just two months ago, a staffer on his presidential campaign.”

“Holy shit.” Agatha muttered, idly chewing on her fingernail.

“A staffer?” Jen reiterated. “How fucking stupid do you have to be?”

Rio made a very poignant effort not to look at Agatha at that moment.

“These allegations come just one month before the presidential election.” Maria spoke. “Though these are unconfirmed as of right now, the Stark camp has refused to comment.”

“How hard is it to keep it in your pants?” Alice laughed.

“My guess is with his age, it can’t be all that hard.” Jen smirked. “Viagra is a miracle drug. Keeps the perverts going long after nature has told them to stop.”

William rushed back in, paper in hand. “I saw! This is good right?”

Everyone looked at him in silence.

“I mean-” He stammered. “Not- not for like, the women. But for us.”

Agatha extended her hand. “Paper.”

“Nobody will vote for him now.” William explained. “Isn’t his whole thing traditional values?”

Agatha smiled, though it was one of disbelief. “Because terrible, hypocritical men have never risen to power before?”

“Your girlfriend did help us, though.” Jen said. “Stark’s gonna have a fuckton of damage control to do.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Rio replied. “And all Stark will have to do is say God and Pepper forgave him and he’s golden again.”

“Please god, let there be a secret lovechild.” Agatha murmured.

“Until then,” Jen stood. “We have a meeting with Scott Lang in twenty.”

“Why?” She pouted.

“Cabinet position, we have to start putting one together.”

“Which one is this?”

Jen took the folder from Alice, opening it. “Uhh, education. He’s a former science teacher so it’ll look good.”

“Fine.” Agatha stood again. “But I want Danvers for secretary of defense. She’s smart and Californians like her, it could help get more liberal votes.”

Rio furrowed her brows. “Why not veteran affairs? And Sam Wilson for defense?”

Agatha put her glasses back on. “Works for me.”

Agatha was already strutting out of the room when Jen gave Rio a sideways look. “What the fuck have you done to her?”

Rio nearly choked on her own spit. “What?”

“She just agreed…with no argument.”

“Maybe because she knew it was a good move.”

“No.” Jen shook her head. “Even when she knows someone else is right she still bites back.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Jen.” Rio fidgeted with the handle of her cane. “Guess she trusts me.”

“Jen!” Agatha called from the hall. “Let’s get this over with!”

Jen got moving but not without one more curious glance, studying Rio.

“See you on the plane.” Rio smiled, rapidly tapping her thumb against the smooth metal of the handle.

With the election being a month out, the next four weeks were packed with various stops. First, the south: Texas, Florida, Louisiana, all the places where Agatha never stood a chance. Then the midwest, especially the swing states like Michigan, Wisconsin, and Iowa. This was crunch time, any chance they had at securing votes, Rio was going to fucking take.

An hour later, after Agatha and Alice had to help Rio up the steps onto Air Force Two, they went over the itinerary for the day.

“NO.” Agatha ordered, stepping out from the bedroom fully decked out for the Texas state fair. She was in boots, jeans, a button up with tiny roses embroidered on the shoulders, turtleneck underneath, and a cowboy hat.

“I look like Annie fucking Oakley.” She cocked her head.

Rio chuckled, mostly because of how ridiculous she looked. “Be grateful I decided against the bolo tie.”

“Be grateful I’m not actually a sharpshooter.” She sneered.

“I think you look cute.” Alice smiled. “You can pull off a cowboy hat, not everyone can say that.”

“So my ability to run a country is dependent on my head shape?”

“People will find you less intimidating if you assimilate.” Jen spoke. “It’s one day.”

“I like being intimidating. And it’s not one day, it’s been months of assimilating and I’ll tell you what, America is not that special. Every fucking region has it’s own morose quirks and none of them are charming!” Agatha took off the hat. “And we wonder why the rest of the world hates us!”

“People need to find you relatable.” Jen tried to placate. “They want a president they like, that they can drink a beer with.”

“Beer is disgusting and they should not try to relate to me!” Agatha shouted. “I’d have the nuclear codes, that’s not relatable! I’m educated and actually understand how the government works, most of America cannot say that!”

“Okay,” Rio said. “You’re right, but this is the game. You said it yourself, it’s the home stretch.”

Agatha exhaled a deep breath, shoulders slumping. “Should’ve just let Mexico keep the fucking state…” She hissed, turning back around and heading towards the bedroom.

“I’ll talk to her.” Jen started, setting her laptop aside.

“No, let me.” Rio fought her way into a standing position. “I got it.”

Jen relented, flicking her hand dismissively. “Fine, your funeral.”

With the Maria conversation this morning, Rio almost agreed.

She tentatively opened the door to the bedroom, finding Agatha pacing back and forth.

“Permission to enter, partner?” Rio asked in an awful southern accent. “Or is this town not big enough for the two of us?”

Agatha stopped, her lips curing into a nearly indistinguishable grin. “Pretty sure they’d deep fry you if they heard your impression of a Texan.”

Rio closed the door behind her. “What’s wrong?”

“I just,” She threw the hat onto the cot. “I’m just tired.”

“Of?”

“The campaign trail, I guess. Ready for it to be over.”

“We all are, William keeps writing which state we’re in on his hand in sharpie so he remembers.” Rio joked. “That boy is confused about 99% of the time.”

“It was easier before.”

“Before what?”

“Before you and Maine and the…” She took a breath. “I didn’t realize how wrapped up in everything I was until I was out of it for a weekend. And coming back to it…has been kind of jarring.”

The irony that Rio had unraveled a woman she was supposed to keep tightly wound didn’t evade her. That she had inadvertently worked against herself.

“Yeah, for me too.”

“Yeah?”

“You think I like Jen assuming I’m dating Maria Hill? Taking credit for your hard work?”

“As if your ‘girlfriend’ could achieve that.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.” Rio raised her brows. “My girlfriend currently looks like she’s ready for the rodeo.”

Agatha didn’t chuckle like Rio thought she would. “And that would be me?”

“Who else would it be?”

Agatha started pacing again. “I don’t know if you should say that, especially with the Stark bullshit-”

“Hey.” Rio walked over, blocking Agatha from making another pass across the room. “You’re not him, you know it’s not the same.”

“Please, I’m sure he told that girl he loved her. I’m sure he said things.”

“He’s married and wanted to get laid.”

“He destroyed that girl’s future.”

“And you think that’s us?” Rio whispered. “You think you’re destroying me?”

“I’m afraid I will.” Agatha quietly admitted.

“I’m afraid of the same thing.” Rio reached out for Agatha’s hand. “That I’ll pull a Peggy and ruin you.”

Agatha interlaced her fingers with Rio’s. “Unless you’re a secret drug addict, I don’t think that’s plausible.”

“And unless you’re lying about loving me, I don’t think you should let Stark get to you.”

“I’m not…” Agatha looked down at her hand, currently wrapped up in Rio’s. “Lying.”

“I know.” Rio smirked. “So let me call you my girlfriend.”

“Can I be a girlfriend at fifty-two? Sounds a little juvenile.”

“You’re right. I’ll just call you my companion.”

Agatha snorted. “Fuck, that is so much worse.”

“Gal pal?”

“Shut up.”

“Secret lover?”

“Rio.”

Rio snapped her fingers as though the perfect term had just popped into her head. “Presidential cowgirl womanfriend.”

“You’re annoying as shit.” She smiled. It was the real one, the one that reached her eyes.

“And yet, you still love me.”

“To be determined.”

“So can you go out there today and mingle with the rednecks?”

“I suppose.”

“You’re going to have to drink a beer.”

“It’s moldy bread water, it’s awful and you’re dumb for liking it.”

Rio gave her hand one last squeeze before reaching for the hat on the cot, placing it back on Agatha’s head. “There’s that southern charm I hear so much about.”

Agatha adjusted the brim while pouting. “They have too much pride for a state that lost the war.”

Rio pushed the brim up just a bit, leaning in. “Careful, baby. They’re real loose with the death penalty down here.”

“Mmmh.” She hummed, meeting Rio in the middle and placing a quick kiss to her lips. “Death sounds like a dream compared to a state fair.”

“A real woman of the people.”

“The people suck.”

Rio stole one last kiss before breaking away. “Yup and soon you shall rule them all.”

She turned to leave when Agatha caught her arm. “And don’t think I’m letting the Maria thing slide, as soon as your hip is healed it’s my turn with the knife.”

Rio swore she felt her blood rush at the words, watching as Agatha passed her towards the door.

She let her hand swing out, smacking Agatha’s ass where she knew the carvings were. “Okey-dokey, Annie Oakley.”

Agatha jumped, looking at Rio like a pissed wife. “You better pray for your other hip.”

“Promises, promises.”

Once they had landed and gotten to the fair, Agatha pulled through the same way she always did. Pretending to be hospitable and endeared by customs that Rio knew were making her cringe internally.

She listened to a local farmer as he pointed to a pig being spitroasted. “We kill ’em and cook ‘em ourselves.”

Rio bit her cheek from afar, holding her composer as Agatha fought her own face from reacting. Instead, giving a false smile and laugh.

“Well that’s just…” She spoke with a honeyed voice, “Bless your heart.”

And she did drink that beer, clinking her pint glass with the owner of a local brewery for the press.

“And it’s made with wheat grown right here in the great state of Texas.” He smiled.

Agatha choked her sip down. “Well I should hope so, y’all have got so much of it down here.”

Rio stifled a cackle.

Y’all?

“Aren’t you a southern belle…” Rio whispered as they left the fair grounds that night.

“I’ll hogtie you, a very nice rancher showed me how today.” She glared as they headed for the bus.

“You’ve gotta find better threats, cariño-”

“That was great!” Jen squealed as the rest of the team caught up to them. “I think you actually fooled some of those people.”

“Thanks.” Agatha whipped off the hat and shoved it towards William. “Burn it.”

“Yes, ma’am.” William agreed.

“Okay, but did you guys try the pulled pork because it was actually really fucking good.” Alice said as the doors to the bus opened.

“I tried to eat as little as possible,” Agatha groaned. “I don’t trust fair food and didn't want to relive my youth by making myself upchuck.”

“We can eat at the hotel, there’s a steakhouse attached.” Jen followed Alice onto the bus.

“Can I order veal this time, mom?” Agatha deadpanned, climbing the steps.

And since bending her leg in any way was near impossible for Rio, Agatha turned around without a word and stretched out her hand. “C’mon.”

She had helped Rio onto the plane earlier, but something about her doing it again without a second thought made Rio warm on the inside.

“How long is your hip going to be like that?” Wanda asked from behind her, waiting to board the bus.

“Like, a month.” Rio hoisted herself towards Agatha's grip, making it to the first step.

“Hope it was worth it.” Wanda said as she looked directly at Agatha rather than Rio.

Rio snickered and looked back. “Worth every bit of tissue.”

Wanda rolled her eyes and made a gagging motion.

“Yes, your dick is very big, now come on.” Agatha yanked on Rio’s arm to get her to take another step. “I need a shower, I smell like barbeque and the public.”

Rio lowered her voice so as not to alert anyone else of her question. “Can I join?”

“If you hurry the fuck up.”

“Yes, my womanfriend.”

“Jesus christ.”

After dinner, in which a waitress gave them all sweet tea in place of water, Rio went to Agatha’s room.

“Do you need your cane for this?” Agatha asked as she turned on the shower and undid the buttons on her top.

“I’m not immobile, it makes it easier for me to get around but I can still hold myself up.”

“Aw, it’s like I’m robbing the grave now.” Agatha sympathetically frowned, yanking the offending garment off. “We need to talk about the things you make me wear.”

“It worked didn’t it?” Rio took off her blazer and shirt, hand dropping to her pants.

“But at what cost?”

She tried to bend over and pull her slacks down, but winced in pain as she did so. “Shit.”

“Here.” Agatha tugged at the fabric, letting the fabric pool at Rio’s feet. She crouched down, helping her step out of them. “What was that about not being immobile?”

“I’m not!”

“Sure…”

Rio spent most of the shower leaning against the tile, the weight of her own body making it difficult to stand. At least she got to see Agatha naked and soapy, she figured as her girlfriend pulled her under the water, letting Rio settle against her to wash her hair.

By minute twenty-two Rio had to tap out, giving Agatha a kiss before getting out of the shower and limping into the bedroom in a towel.

“Only baths from now on!” Rio shouted from where she laid on the mattress.

“Old man!” She shouted back from the bathroom.

Rio scoffed, turning on the TV and switching on the news.

Agatha turned off the shower a few minutes later, changing into her silk camisole and matching pajama pants.

“I like you better in my t-shirts.”

Agatha quirked an eyebrow. “You like anything with easier access.”

“No.” Rio sat up. “Well, yeah. But I also like seeing you relaxed, less rigid.”

“Baby, you’ve seen me the most relaxed I’ve ever been.” She walked over, straddling her.

Rio snaked her hand under Agatha’s top, holding her waist. “Also, I should point out that I accessed this very easily.”

Agatha was about to speak when the TV caught their attention. Maria Hill’s face graced the screen, words running across the bottom.

“In other news, the Stark campaign has released a statement about the allegations that broke just this morning.” The quote came on screen next to her head as she read it verbatim. “I want to apologize to my family and supporters. It was a lapse in judgement and does not reflect my values. I have consulted with my pastor and my wife, we ask for privacy in this time of crisis.”

Agatha scowled, moving off Rio. “You called it.”

“Jesus and a good woman.” Rio retched. “And they eat it up every time.”

“The Harkness campaign has yet to comment, the vice president being seen at the Texas state fair-”

Agatha found the remote, shutting off the TV. “If that woman gets a cough in three days, just know it was me.”

Rio leaned over, brushing her lips against Agatha’s. “Are you going to kill someone…again?”

“Mmh,” She pursed her lips. “Not worth prison."

“But it’d be so hot.”

“I can let you watch this time.”

And even though Rio knew it was a joke-

“You’re my dream girl.”

Agatha snorted, sinking back into the pillows. “Go get ready for bed, your dream girl is exhausted from pretending to be nice.”

Chapter Text

Agatha’s hips snapped, her underwear and pajama pants discarded long ago. Her hair was tousled, her camisole was pushed up over her tits, greedy hands palming them as she rode Rio’s abs. Her glasses sat on the tip of her nose as she held her phone to her ear, fighting to keep her tone neutral despite her currently dripping onto her topless girlfriend below.

In the week since Rio had started using the cane, they had to get more…creative with how they had sex. Rio’s hips couldn’t really move let alone thrust so Agatha had to do most of the work, essentially using Rio to get herself off. Which yes, was hot, but that didn’t mean she didn’t miss Rio fucking her into the mattress.

Yeah, the fucking things we do for love.

“I understand that, Carol.” Agatha spoke in her politician voice, looking down at Rio who was having the time of her fucking life. That would change soon. “But I would be honored if you considered the position.”

“Secretary of veteran affairs means something to me, madam vice president.” The representative from California replied. “I served myself and veterans in this country are not taken care of.”

Rio’s index and middle finger rolled Agatha’s nipple before pinching, making Agatha stifle a whine. “I- I agree. That’s where you’d come in, you’ve lived it.”

“I’m talking about a radical expansion of benefits, ma’am.”

Rio’s other hand dropped to her ribs, thumb digging into the minimally healed R. The pain sent a bolt of pleasure straight to her clit, clenching her jaw as she raised her free hand up to Rio’s neck and harshly choked. She squeezed the sides of her girlfriend's neck without mercy, knowing that Rio didn’t want any.

“And I fully support that proposal. I assure you, I can be very flexible.” Agatha husked, clearing her throat. Poor choice of words given she was literally flexing against the contours of Rio’s stomach. “Without veterans, we’d be nowhere.”

Honestly, she wasn’t exactly sure what she was agreeing to, but the sooner this call was over, the sooner Agatha could come. They only had two hours before they needed to back on the bus for a full day on the trail.

Agatha kept grinding, the muscle tissue of Rio’s abdomen like steel. “I want a better future for the men and women who’ve served.”

“That means a lot coming from you.” She heard Carol smile over the line. “I’ll outline a proposal of benefits I’d want to implement and send them your way, but I’m confident that we’d work well together.”

Agatha pressed hard, a certain divot hitting just right. “Happy to hear it. I’ll be on the look out for your email.”

“Amazing.”

Rio’s hand left her ribs and reached around to smack her ass where MINE was etched, spanking her and sending shivers down her spine.

“T-take care, Danvers. Be in touch.” Agatha ended the call before throwing her phone onto the bed. “You sadistic fuck.”

Rio grinned, fingers kneading the flesh of her ass. “I’d take that as an insult if you weren’t humping me like a bitch in heat.”

Agatha gripped Rio’s throat tighter, moving her hips as she yanked her girlfriend off the pillow and bringing their faces mere inches apart. “Be a good toy for me and shut the fuck up.”

Rio’s eyes were unfocused as her lips twitched upwards, the pressure on her throat making her feel euphoric. “Úsame, cariño. Uh, Agatha, fuck! I’m gonna come!”

The vibrator currently tucked into Rio’s boxer briefs was, apparently, doing its job well. Agatha patted her hand around in the sheets until she found the remote, pressing a button and clicking it off.

“That’s not shutting the fuck up.” She thrust her hips faster, her bush and Rio’s abs now glistening with her own slick.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Rio whimpered, her hands coming to rest on Agatha’s waist, pulling and trying to help her get off.

“Neither is that.” She reprimanded, dropping her hold on Rio and letting her head fall back into the pillows. “Make your mouth useful.”

Agatha shuffled up the bed, fisting Rio’s hair at the root and shoving her face in between her legs. Forcing Rio’s mouth to her cunt and bucking on her girlfriend’s tongue.

“Good boy.” Agatha sighed contently, enjoying the sensation and the silence.

“Hey, Agatha?” Jen knocked on the door of her hotel room.

Jesus fucking christ, how hard was it to get another orgasm in before starting her day?

“Yeah?” She shouted, still holding Rio in a vice grip against her pussy.

“William needs you for a few videos for socials, something about a trend. I don’t fucking know…”

“Gimme a minute!” Agatha rasped, so incredibly close.

“C’mon, we need to do it before we leave for Florida.”

Rio’s tongue flicked her clit before her lips closed around it, sucking while her nails scratched at Agatha’s lower back. Everything came to a halt as she finally came undone, thighs shaking through her orgasm.

“I’m coming!” She reassured, “I’m- I’m coming!”

“Just meet me in the lobby in thirty.”

Agatha pried Rio’s mouth away, clicking the vibrator back to life, though not at full power. She clapped a hand over her girlfriend’s mouth before answering. “Make it an hour, I have elbows to rub.”

The elbows in question were that of many congressmen, senators, and high-profile Washington elites, all handpicked for her potential cabinet. Agatha had started early this morning before Rio pulled her onto her lap while speaking with her future secretary of energy. That led to Agatha shucking off her pants and wrapping up that call before slipping a vibrator into Rio’s underwear and telling her she couldn't come until Agatha was finished working.

“Fine.” Jen huffed, footsteps receding.

Three calls and three orgasms in, Agatha felt fucking amazing. Rio, on the other hand?

“Please, baby.” She wheezed, uselessly clawing at Agatha’s thighs.

Agatha knew she was close, she always was after she ate her out. Also the four stolen orgasms might have something to do with it.

“Clean up the mess you’ve made first.” Agatha cynically grinned, shoving Rio’s face back between her legs.

And obedient as always, Rio’s tongue got to work.

Unlike Agatha, Rio didn’t fight back when she didn’t have the power. She was happy to submit and serve however Agatha desired. And in a very sick way, one that she would not be analyzing, it only made her want to push Rio farther.

Rio whined against her cunt, something that was supposed to be words. Agatha tugged her away, furrowing her brows.

“What?”

“I’m- it’s sensitive.”

“Aww,” Agatha coo’d, letting her hand leave Rio’s hair and come to caress her cheek. “Do you need to come, sweetheart?”

Rio eagerly nodded, eyes wet with frustrated tears.

“Are you close?” Agatha clicked the remote again, amping up the power.

“Fuck!” She arched off the bed. Agatha took the opportunity to duck her head down and litter kisses along Rio’s chest, working her way across the expanse of skin and adding more bite marks to the growing collection.

Since the team had taken it upon themselves to keep making Maria comments, Agatha only saw it fit to make Rio suffer. That took the form of her teeth clamping down on once unsullied skin. Particularly on her chest and thighs, but the purple and blue indentations could be found most places that Rio’s clothes covered.

Shit, she really needed a knife and soon.

“Ag-Agatha, please.” Rio’s voice was raw and desperate.

She lightly bit down on Rio’s nipple, appreciating the sheen of sweat coating Rio’s body.

“I c-can’t.” Her girlfriend whimpered, fingers holding onto Agatha as a lifeline.

Agatha pressed another button, the vibrator going still again. She heard a pathetic cry ripped from Rio’s throat, a stray tear running down her cheek.

Agatha brought her knuckles to Rio’s face, wiping away the tear. “Mmmh, I still have one more call to make. Think you can handle it?”

And yes, Rio was twitching and close to weeping, but she also could’ve easily communicated that she couldn’t take anymore. She could’ve called yellow or red and Agatha would listen without hesitation, but she didn’t and Agatha knew she wouldn’t.

In addition to being a pain slut, Rio was also a glutton for punishment.

So long as it was by Agatha’s hand.

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“Good boy.” Agatha praised, finding her phone again and sitting up. She dialed and waited as the line trilled, clicking the remote again and snapping her fingers in a demand. “Two fingers.”

Rio’s hand, trembling but steady cupped her cunt and let two fingers sink into Agatha. At the same moment, the line picked up. “N-Natasha, how the hell have you been?”

It was maybe only another five minutes, Agatha chomping on her lip through another orgasm while simultaneously securing her secretary of housing and urban development.

As soon as the call ended, Agatha bent down, delivering a kiss much too tender for the current situation.

Rio pulled her fingers out, tears now visibly streaming down her face. “Pleasepleasep-please-”

Agatha clicked the vibrator to the highest setting, whispering against Rio’s lips. “Come for me, pretty boy.” And took Rio’s wet fingers into her mouth, sucking her own taste off them while gazing down into familiar warm copper.

Her eyes screwed shut once she got permission, her body convulsing underneath Agatha as a lewd moan dripped from her mouth.

Agatha let Rio’s fingers go, looking down and finding a wet patch at the crotch of Rio’s briefs. And not the kind one gets from just being wet.

“Oh, those are ruined.” Agatha chuckled.

Rio’s eyes fluttered, her voice hoarse. “Off, god, starting to hurt.”

Agatha hit the off button, snaking her hand beneath Rio’s underwear and pulling out the toy. It wasn’t just shiny like she had expected, it was saturated. She set it aside, curling next to Rio and resting her head on her girlfriend’s chest. Rio’s breathing was rapid, her face flushed.

“Good morning, indeed.” Agatha languidly kissed Rio’s neck, smiling against the column of her throat.

“Morning.” Rio breathed out, a lazy grin spread across her features.

An hour later, Agatha met Jen and William to do the insipid social media videos. Some consisted of Agatha asking if people were registered to vote, others were worse. Like the one where William asked the camera to watch his boss for a minute, placing the screen in front of a very confused Agatha.

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Just look annoyed or confused.” William prompted.

“I am annoyed and confused.”

“Perfect, so we shouldn’t have to do another take.” Jen sighed.

They arrived in Florida a few hours later, the humidity was suffocating. And it was fucking October.

“Fucking swap state.” Agatha muttered.

A notification sound went off on someone’s phone.

“So, you have a meeting with a pro-choice organization. They help women find clinics across the state after the six week abortion ban. Raise money for women to cross state lines if need be, in order to receive basic fucking care.” Rio hissed, scrolling through her laptop while they made their second stop of day. “Then a youth center that specializes in finding housing for homeless LGBTQ teens.”

Another notification.

Agatha let out a tired huff of air. “Okay, we need to sever this state off from the rest of the country. The climate is hell. Both political and environmental."

Another notification.

“Okay, who sounds like they just shoplifted a whole sex shop worth of vibrators?!” Agatha snapped, vibrators on the brain apparently.

"Sorry." William’s face went bright red, hastily pulling out his phone and silencing it. “My Grindr won’t stop pinging.”

Agatha clapped her hands together. “Florida in a nutshell.”

It was at the end of the night when they all shuffled back onto the bus to head to the hotel, Agatha, Rio and Jen huddled at a table, overhead light illuminating their game of war. It was a card game of chance, but somehow, Jen was still winning.

Wanda, Alice, and William were all knocked out elsewhere.

“Ha!” Jen gloated. “You guys suck at this.”

Rio sat next to Jen, Agatha across from the two of them. “How can you suck at war?”

“Ask JFK.” Rio chuckled.

They all threw down a card, Rio winning that round and sweeping them into her deck.

As Jen set down her next card, she looked at Agatha. “Did I tell you I found a ring?”

“Nope.” Agatha threw down her own.

“Wait-” Rio shuffled her body to angle towards Jen. “You’re proposing?”

“Yup, after the election.” She smiled. “It's this vintage ruby, silver band. Not too flashy but enough of a statement that I didn't cheap out.”

“That’s great, Jen.” Rio genuinely smiled. “I’ve heard you two fucking enough that you should put a ring on it…”

“Yeah,” Jen furrowed her brows. “You’re eerily quiet for almost always getting the room next to us.”

Agatha cleared her throat. “We going to war, or what?”

They went another round, then another.

Jen tossed hers onto the table. “What about you, Rio?”

Rio followed suit. “What about me?”

“You and Maria serious? Marriage on the horizon?”

Agatha all but slammed her card down. “I win.”

Rio smirked as Agatha collected her cards. “Maria, no. Marriage in general? Maybe one day.”

Agatha swallowed, acting as though she was barely paying attention.

“Why maybe?” Jen straightened her stack of cards.

“Not like I have a job that allows me to be home a lot, let alone keep a partner.”

“Okay, but if you did?”

Agatha’s lungs inflated with air that had yet to be exhaled as Rio answered.

“Then, yeah.” Rio shrugged. “If the right woman came along.”

And Agatha was painfully aware that she was not the right woman. She wasn’t someone to come home to at the end of the day. Wasn’t the sweet, doting wife who made dinner. Not that she thought Rio wanted that, but it’d be nice to be able to offer something.

“And Maria’s not the right woman?” Jen scrunched her face.

“I like a challenge, always have.” Rio didn’t let her eyes drift to Agatha, but fuck, she wished they would’ve. “Maria’s not her.”

“Maria’s not who?”

“Her. You know, my hypothetical wife.”

Agatha wasn’t her either.

She rapidly blinked, keeping the tears at bay. Every day closer to her prize was a day closer to a life without Rio. And she most unfortunately thought about that fact every single day.

All three of their phones buzzed at the same time. A news alert sending their screens ablaze in a flurry.

Rio grabbed hers first, unlocking it and clicking on whatever had dropped.

“Fuck.” She turned her phone so Jen and Agatha could see the headline.

Stark staffer claims the candidate forced her to receive an abortion

“Oh my god…” Agatha whispered.

Jen snapped her neck to look at Agatha, eyes bright with joy. “You’re going to be fucking president!”

Her stomach dropped as her mouth stayed in a straight line.

A conservative running on outlawing abortion only to be exposed for forcing the very antithesis of his platform on his mistress? Three weeks out from November?

Yeah, the man was most likely toast.

The religious nutjobs Stark relied on weren’t going to take that news well.

Which meant Agatha’s probability at winning just skyrocketed. She was already ahead in the polls, already considered the frontrunner. People actually liked her now.

The weight of reality smacked her.

She would win.

She would win, and lose Rio in the process.

Five months ago, this news would have made her want to run through a wall like the Kool-Aid man. She would’ve felt fucking invincible.

Now?

Her heart beat out of time, life suddenly falling into slow motion as her gaze shifted to Rio.

Her eyes were hollow.

Her mouth contorted into something resembling a smile.

But Agatha knew better.

“Agatha?!” Jen shook her with glee. “Did you hear me? You’re going to be fucking president!”

Fuck, she wanted to melt into the earth until all that remained were the atoms that created her.

“Yeah.” Agatha croaked, feeling like her coffin just got nailed shut.

“Okay,” Jen turned around, waking everyone up. “We need to celebrate!”

She looked to Rio as Jen went around shaking the team awake. Her girlfriend just stared back as if to say ‘we should be happy’.

Agatha tilted the corners of her mouth upwards in an agonizing smile.

The shock and awe of the others faded out as Rio smiled too, but it was one of obligation.

There was a high-pitched ringing in her ear, one her own mind was definitely producing. But as two pools of amber glazed over, Agatha swore Rio heard it too. It was too much, all of it. Rio and Stark and the fucking campaign.

“Bathroom.” Agatha rasped, her voice eluding her. She got up, rushing to the cramped restroom that she fucking hated. It was too small and always made her feel like it would cave in on her at any moment.

But her mind was already shot to shit, so another layer of anxiety didn’t phase her.

She closed and locked the door behind her, hastily opening the toilet lid and lurching. She retched into the bowl until all that remained was the harsh sting of bile at the back of her throat, flushing and slamming the lid back down. She hoisted herself back up, wiping the corners of her mouth and stopping in front of the sink. Agatha looked at her own reflection in the mirror.

In three weeks time, the ballots would be tallied.

In three weeks time, that infographic would appear on the screen with her face, and name, with projected winner scrawled across.

In three weeks time, she’d be president elect.

And in three weeks time, Rio’s job would be done.

She sniffled as she washed her hands, cradling some water in her palm to rinse out her mouth.

The muffled cheers of her team on the other side of the door were deafening. The gentle sway of the bus against the road. Agatha ran a hand through her hair, attempting to compose herself.

At first glance, Agatha appeared as she always did. Strong, commanding, ruthless. But if someone who saw her, really saw her examined her current state-

They’d see her crumbling, her internal thread coming loose and snagging.

Rio would see it and hold her and try to make it better.

And no one could make it better, no one could fix it.

Agatha had done what she always did, she chased power at whatever the cost.

And that was fine, her whole life had been leading up to this. This was what she wanted.

Until this moment, where she had to accept that the power cost her something greater.

Until it cost Agatha her heart.

Until it cost Agatha that stupid fucking emotion that constantly stabbed beneath her ribs, lodged like a dagger.

Until it cost Agatha love.

Until it cost Agatha Rio.

Jen’s version of celebrating was making the driver pull over at the nearest liquor store and buying several expensive bottles of champagne. None of them waited until they got to the hotel, popping a bottle once back on the bus.

Jen held up the bottle, everyone else mirroring her with their own plastic cups. “To madam president Agatha Harkness and to us! We fucking killed ourselves and that man is cooked!”

Everyone hollered, throwing back their drinks. Agatha had forgone that, grabbing a whole bottle and popping it before taking a long pull, averting her gaze from Rio. Jen and the others were too wrapped up in the prospect of victory to notice her emotional turmoil, and Agatha couldn’t blame them.

She held onto that bottle as they arrived at the hotel, as she got to her room, as she waited for Rio.

When she heard a knock, she opened the door and stepped aside for her girlfriend to enter. As Rio did so, she swiped the champagne, cane in one hand and bottle in the other.

She didn’t really speak and neither did Rio.

It’s not that there wasn’t anything to say, but too much.

They sat on the end of the bed, passing the booze back and forth. Rio took off her suit jacket and flung it across the room, rolling the sleeves of her button up. Agatha laid back, bottle resting on her stomach with one hand sluggishly making sure it didn’t tip. Rio laid on her side, looking at Agatha while Agatha looked at the ceiling.

She wondered what they looked like from a birdseye view. A seemingly apathetic woman and her devoted employee? Girlfriend? Soon-to-be stranger?

Rio’s hand cradled her jaw, a soft pressure making her turn her neck.

“I’m sorry.” Fell from her lips, apologizing for doing exactly what she promised she would do.

Make Agatha president.

Her memories drifted to this morning, it was a good one. They all were with Rio.

“Me too.”

Rio brushed some gray strands behind her ear, her voice breaking with her next sentence.

“I love you.”

Agatha felt the salt of her tears pool, escaping before she had a chance to register them. She let her eyes close for a beat, nuzzling into Rio’s touch. She’d miss the warmth. She’d miss the way those hands treated her with care, the way none had before. She’d miss that cocky grin and the owlish eyes. She’d miss her laugh and her scent. She’d miss their hypothetical future together and Maine. She opened her eyes again, and she’d miss the way Rio looked at her too. Like she was worthy of the love Rio held for her.

Rio looked at Agatha like she was good. That all the facets that made who she was, were something to be admired. To Rio, Agatha was more than just the sum of her parts. She was more than a politician, she was hers and that’s all Rio needed.

She had kissed Rio, dug her own grave. She had fucked her, burying herself in the soft unassuming soil. She had fallen in love with her, handed Rio the shovel and let herself be encased in her own tomb.

The writing on the wall had been scribbled in Agatha’s own blood, sweat, and tears. Hell, it’d been written by Agatha herself.

Agatha’s own voice cracked as she responded.

“Me too.”

Chapter Text

“Welcome back to election night in America.” Maria Hill's voice echoed through the room. “We are two hours away from polls closing on the west coast…”

“Does it ever get weird seeing your girlfriend on live TV?” Alice raised her eyebrows at Rio.

“No, because my girlfriend isn’t on TV because it’s not Maria.” Rio muttered.

Agatha zoned out as she sat on the couch, glass of scotch in her hand. Jen thought it was her first drink when it was actually her second. She needed something to numb the emotions. Which didn’t work, she wasn’t even buzzed.

The past three weeks were…rough to say the least.

Personally, not professionally.

Professionally, Agatha was the best she's ever been.

The Stark story just kept getting bigger and bigger. The abortion, explicit texts, nude photos. Everything leaking through the glorious 24 hour news cycle. It did lead Agatha and Rio to erasing their texts from the past six months, though. No photos had been taken or exchanged for obvious reasons, the stupid fucking iCloud sees all. Hell, they didn’t even have normal photos together, not ones that weren’t campaign related.

Personally, Agatha had spent the past twenty-one days clinging to Rio every chance she got. She wouldn’t have even considered herself an affectionate person until this relationship, but something in the deep recesses of her mind just always wanted Rio. It could be as innocent as them interlocking pinkies underneath the table while on the bus, or playing footsie when nobody was paying attention.

Personally, Agatha had spent the past twenty-one days with a nauseous feeling in the pit of her stomach. Opting to ignore it in the hopes of it going away. Her gut was quite literally screaming at her at all hours of the day. You love her, just cut your losses and step down. There’s always Maine. Which was a sick fucking joke because there was no stepping down, this was it, November 4th—

Election night.

Personally, Agatha had spent the last twenty-one days holding herself together by one single thread. The thread being Rio. Scared that someone would pull it and Agatha herself would unravel so completely, she’d never recover. So, she drank. Might as well prep for the next four years anyway.

Yeah, it wasn’t fair to Rio that she was essentially throwing in the towel and accepting defeat, but what else was she supposed to do? Profess her love for her employee publicly and propose after six fucking months? Confine Rio to a life of Christmas decor and event coordination? No. No, Rio deserved better. So, Agatha just…let everything happen.

Everyone around her was on the edge of their seat as each state was called. The blue states going blue, the red states going red. Which is why the swing states mattered so much. The race to 270 electoral votes.

And Agatha just sat as her life happened without her.

As Wanda and William managed socials.

As Jen and Alice paced and riled each other up.

As Rio sat on the opposite side of the couch, her gaze burning a hole in the side of Agatha’s head.

The only emotion she showed was anger when Michigan went red.

Fucking Michigan of all places.

Agatha slammed down her drink before grabbing a vase nearby and lunging at the TV with it.

“I sweet talked those inbred lumberjacks for nothing?!” She screeched as her arm reared back with the vase.

“Agatha!” Jen scolded, catching her arm and confiscating the vase.

“Raaaaagghh!” She incoherently yelled.

That was what confused her the most. She wanted to win, she did. She hadn’t eaten solid food all day because of just how badly she wanted to win. But then her own brain would conflict with itself and make her question that want.

Is it worth losing Rio? Do you want it more than you want her?

And yeah, Agatha isn’t perfect, but at least she isn’t him.

The glory and the power.

Did they out weigh the love and the longing?

She had this dream nestled away in the cavity of her chest, safe and sound. Of losing and making a life somewhere far away from DC, far away from being who she was.

Of being happy.

“Stupid fucking red mirage!” Agatha screamed, backhanding the flatscreen tv and then wincing when her knuckles had hit a little too hard. “Go to college!”

“That’s classist.” William mumbled.

“Oh is it?!” Agatha turned to him, eyes brimming with rage. “Then maybe, I don’t know, we should pay for everyone to go to fucking school!”

“Yelling at and wrecking inanimate objects won’t change the votes.” Lilia sighed, glass of wine in hand.

“I know he’s small and portable but William isn’t an object, Lilia.” Agatha half-joked. “I need a cigarette.”

“They called Pennsylvania for you!” Jen smiled, pointing at the projection on the tv.

Agatha fished out the pack of cigarettes she’d made William get specifically for tonight from his bitch bag.

“Yippee, didn’t see that one coming.” She deadpanned as she headed out to the terrace of the hotel room they were in. It was in Boston, close to her campaign headquarters, right next to a convention center with thousands of rowdy Harkness-Calderu supporters.

She closed the sliding glass door behind her and lit the Marlboro light, inhaling as much smoke as possible. Convincing herself that if she focused on the burn in her lungs, she could ignore everything else.

She heard the door open and close behind her, not even checking to see who it was.

She already knew.

“Those things will kill you.” Rio spoke, coming up next to her and resting her hands on the railing. She set her cane aside, she barely needed it now anyway.

“One can only hope.” Agatha replied, taking another drag.

“At least you look hot doing it.”

“Mmmh.” She hummed, not looking over.

“I think Jen will have a heart attack before the night is through.”

Agatha rolled the cigarette between her index and middle finger. “Can’t say I blame her. It’s a big moment in her career.”

“It’s a big moment in your career too, Agatha.”

“Yeah,” She exhaled some smoke. “Too bad I can’t enjoy it.”

“Am I-” Rio’s voice cracked. “Am I just fucking everything up for you?”

Agatha finally turned her head, her heart thumping faster at the sight. “Why would you say that?”

“Because, I pushed and now you can’t even pretend that you’re excited about the possibility of winning. And I want you to. I- I don’t want to take that from you.”

“Rio,” Her free hand came to rest atop one of her girlfriend’s on the railing. “You have given me more than I think you could ever realize.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re marching to your own certain doom?"

Agatha’s fingers gingerly laced themselves with Rio’s. “‘Cause that’s what it feels like…without you.”

“I’m still here.”

“Yeah, for how much longer?” She brought the cigarette to her lips, inhaling. “The expiration date has arrived.”

Rio’s eyes welled. “Maybe Stark wins-”

“More and more major metropolitan cities are being tallied.” Agatha bitterly smiled. “That mirage is vanishing quickly, my love. You’re too good at your job.”

“It’s not fair.”

“Is life ever?”

The door opened again, Agatha letting go of Rio’s hand as a result.

“Agatha,” Jen started, unaware of the conversation being had. “They’re about to call Georgia.”

She flicked her cigarette onto the ground, stomping it out beneath her stiletto. She spoke to Jen but kept her eyes on Rio. “Yup. Coming.”

Rio gave a pitiful excuse of a smile, watching as Agatha walked back inside.

Georgia went blue, as did Wisconsin.

Damn, pundits weren’t fucking around about the probability of a blue wave.

It was almost one in the morning when a sprawling infographic came across the screen, Maria Hill of all people delivering the news–

She stood frozen in the middle of the room, praying.

Praying for what, she couldn’t be sure.

And why she was turning to god, she couldn’t explain.

Old habits she supposed.

“Nevada is still counting, Clark county notoriously taking the longest to come to a final tally.” Maria’s face broke out into a smirk and Agatha’s stomach sank. “However, CNN can confidently project Agatha Harkness as the winner of the 2024 presidential race.”

Joyous wails broke out amongst the team, Jen literally falling to her knees in relief.

But Agatha had yet to move even a millimeter.

“For the first time in 248 years, America has elected a female president.” Maria proudly stated. “I’m sure the vice president is over the moon tonight, folks.”

Agatha closed her eyes, a single tear tracking down her face, sliding over her cheek before dripping down to her jaw.

Certain doom.

And her body wasn’t her own, not as the others celebrated her victory.

Her victory, not her.

Celebrated what she could provide, what the politician could do for them. All the while, the human in her wanted to run, to sprint to the ends of the earth in the hopes that might just fall off it.

People touched her, she wasn’t sure who. A pat on the back, a squeeze of the forearm. Hushed congratulations and elated smiles.

It was when a familiar presence brushed against her shoulder, a choked voice whispering–

“Congratulaions, my love.”

That Agatha settled back into reality.

Jen rushed over, phone in hand. “It’s Stark, he’s conceding.”

She blinked dumbly, taking the phone and holding it to her ear. “Tony?”

“Agatha.” He sounded tired. “It seems congratulations are in order.”

“Yup.” She clipped her words, wondering how much time she had spent standing in this same spot. Could’ve been five minutes, could’ve been twenty.

“You know why I’m calling.”

“Sure do.”

“Wow, I would’ve assumed you’d be gloating by now.”

“It’s late.”

“You don’t sound like a winner, Harkness.”

She didn’t feel like one either.

“In shock, I guess.”

He sighed. “Well, I’ll keep this brief then. Congrats on your win. But I’m nothing if not a man of my word.”

She snorted. “Tell that to your wife.”

“Good luck Agatha, god knows you need it.” He said, line going dead immediately after.

She couldn’t even process what that could mean, Jen crowding her and taking the phone. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you chew him out and make him cry?”

“It’s late.” Agatha repeated the same excuse. “Comin’ up empty.”

“Well, you’ve got a convention center full of drunk liberals to speak to.” Jen chuckled. “So knock one back and let's go, madam president elect.”

Agatha did not knock one back, too scared to drink anymore and vomit all over the stage. She hadn’t even eaten all day due to her nerves, waving off William as he tried to ply her with granola bars and trail mix.

She didn’t even get a chance to catch her breath before being ushered next door to the convention center. Falling back on her natural instincts to mask, to perform. A bright smile plastered across her face as she waved at the crowd. Her cheeks hurt and the sheer amount of people was overwhelming. Her nervous system was a wreck, Agatha had lived enough of her life in fight or flight mode to know as much.

Her eyes welled, and she hoped it was being perceived from the outside as joy or gratitude. Not the bone-aching sorrow she was barely keeping at bay. She kept checking for Rio, who was diligently following along with the rest of her team, but the emptiness behind her eyes cracked something open within Agatha. A sense of guilt maybe. Guilt that she had put Rio in this position. Guilt that she had already begun to mourn their end before it had even arrived. Guilt that she chose to commiserate rather than do something earlier.

And she should have.

Back in June when they first fucked.

Or after her mother’s wake.

Or in August before the DNC.

Or in September when Agatha sprinted in the rain just to tell Rio that she loved her.

She should’ve fucking done something.

Anything.

So in addition to being a selfish, power-hungry leech, she was also a fucking coward.

Fanfuckingtastic.

Her hands shook as she waited in the wings backstage, someone hyping up the drunken crowd before she spoke. She stood behind the rest of her staff, trying her hardest to get her shit together before every major new outlet in the country got a clip of her having a mental breakdown as the newly elected leader of the free world.

She paced back and forth, trying and failing to breathe but the world was caving in on her.

“I need a minute.” Agatha announced out of the blue before briskly striding away.

“Agatha!” Jen called after her, she didn’t stop though. Her body wanted to run, her mind wanted to sprint…so she did.

Nice to know it’ll always be flight.

Good to see she hasn’t grown or evolved at all.

She poured out into the hall, storming down the corridor, glancing up at the monitors mounted on the wall displaying the live feed from the stage. Everything around her was so loud.

Her eyes burned with tears she would not allow herself to shed, her lip being chewed raw. She didn’t even know where she was going, far away maybe. Which way to the end of the earth?

“Agatha.” Rio’s voice filtered through the anxiety weaving itself through every inch of her.

She stopped walking, whirling around. Sniffling and hyperventilating as Rio jogged down the hall, wincing lightly at the strain on her hip.

“Baby…” Rio’s voice was soft as she reached her hand out.

“Don’t.” Agatha took a few steps back.

“Wha-”

“God,” Her lip trembled as the floodgates burst. “I’m so sorry, Rio. I’m so fucking sorry.”

“Cariño.” She cautiously reached her hand out again, her fingers sliding over her wrist and curling around in a delicate hold. “Never apologize for your success, you’ve earned this.”

“No. I didn’t. The fake fucking persona I present to the public won this.” Agatha’s ribs heaved with the weight of her sobs. “And it’s costing me you. It’s cost me everything. You, my happiness, my own humanity. It’s all gone because I needed to prove something.”

“Sweetheart,” She cooed, her eyes brimming with care. “I promise you, I am here. I’m right here.”

“You shouldn’t have to be, you shouldn’t have to deal with this-”

“I’m where I want to be.” Rio stated without hesitation. “Wherever you are, is where I want to be.”

“Please stop.” Agatha pleaded through the spit in her throat and snot in her nose. “Please, I can’t handle you being nice to me. I don’t deserve it.”

Rio tilted her head as her face fell. “Agatha, that’s not true...”

“And now you’re comforting me, when I’m the one who fucked it all up!” Her voice was in pieces, much like her sense of self. “I should’ve done more, stepped down-”

“I didn’t want you to.” Rio interrupted. “I want this for you because you worked your ass off for decades and you deserve the recognition. Agatha, you are the most whip-smart, determined, stubborn, ruthless person I have ever met. And our time together has been a privilege, one I do not take lightly.” She pulled them aside and around a corner, placing Agatha’s hand on her sternum and mirroring the action with her own. “Just breathe for me, okay?”

Agatha felt Rio’s lungs expand, and she did the same, mimicking the motion.

Rio took another deep inhale before speaking. “Don’t you dare feel guilty about your talent. You’ve survived. You’ve made something for yourself and you don’t get to minimize that.” She made sure she had Agatha’s eyes on her for the next part. “I love you because of who you are, not in spite of it.”

The words felt like novocaine to her wounds, a warm blanket bundled around her frayed nerves. And that made it all the more bittersweet. To have the power in her hand, safe and sound, all the while her body tore itself limb from bloody limb to keep it.

Once her breathing had regulated, and her tears stopped, Rio let go of her hand. “So, you’re going to go out there and accept the presidency.” She smiled that lopsided smile that made Agatha’s heart swell. “Because you fucking did that.”

And what else was Agatha supposed to do? Grab Rio and bolt?

Fuck, that sounded like an amazing plan.

But they had agreed on no mutual destruction at the beginning of this, and fleeing would be dousing everything in kerosene before throwing a match down to watch it all go up in flames. And though she might’ve happily curled up on the ashes of her former life, she couldn’t ask Rio to do the same.

“Okay.” Agatha croaked. “Okay, okay.”

Her girlfriend wiped her face, her thumb brushing beneath her eyes to collect any smudged mascara. She finished by placing a quick kiss to her cheek, her hands cradling Agatha’s head. “Knock ‘em dead, baby.”

And Agatha knew if Rio had done that, it was because she already scanned the place for security cameras. It was second nature at this point. To hide something as innocent as a peck on the cheek.

“Thank you.” Agatha whispered.

“Anytime.”

After a few more minutes of composing herself, Agatha rolled back her shoulders. Stupid fucking public persona. She despised the bitch with every fiber of her being.

“Let’s go.” She said, voice steady.

“Lets.” Rio’s hands fell away, the phantom comfort lingering on Agatha’s skull.

When they returned to the wings, Jen looked like she could’ve wept. “Thank fucking god, that dude has been out there vamping like an asshole for-” She checked her watch. “Twelve minutes!”

“Needed a sec.” Agatha spoke off-handedly. “So I just go this way?” She started walking, or more accurately sauntering out onto the stage.

“Agatha, wait-” Jen tried to catch her but she was already gone. “Bitch doesn't have her speech…I’m gonna kill her. I’m gonna kill her-”

“Calm down, babe.” Alice soothed, placing her hands on Jen’s shoulders. “The hard part is over, she can't be impeached for a shotty speech and most of the people out there are wasted.”

The crowd roared as she appeared on stage, throwing up her arms and waving, grinning without a care in the world. A PA ran up to her with a microphone since she had been too trigger happy to receive one before strutting out.

“Hello, Boston!” She held her head high. “What a night!”

She filled the time at nearly three in the morning.

Democracy.

Country.

Resilience.

The crowd ate it up because of course they fucking did.

“And finally, I’d like to thank my team,” She motioned for them to funnel on stage, which they did like ducklings in a neat line. “They say no man is an island, and that doesn’t elude me.” She heartily chuckled. “So thank you to Alice Wu-Gulliver, Wanda Maximoff, and William Kaplan.”

She waited for the applause to die down before continuing. “And of course, thank you to my amazing chief of staff and friend of over thirty years, Jennifer Kale.” She sobered for a moment. “And…and I would be remiss if I didn’t express my gratitude for my campaign manager, Rio Vidal..” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “To whom I owe this victory. Thank you, Rio.”

Agatha didn’t let her gaze settle on the woman for too long, she couldn’t right now, not with thousands of people in the convention center and millions more watching on live TV. “And of course, my VP, Lilia Calderu. My partner in crime-”

The ride home was silent, the rest of the staff opting to go out and celebrate before crashing back at the hotel. Agatha had insisted on spending the night at her place in Salem, and Rio came along with her overnight bag. They had never discussed what the end would look like, but she didn’t expect it to be this. Their fingers intertwined in the back of a towncar as it drove the forty minutes to her own home, with her own bed.

It was almost four when they walked in the front door.

“You hungry? I can make you something.” Rio offered, hand still clasped around Agatha’s.

“Later.” She chirped, pulling Rio up the stairs, cane hitting each step with a dull thud.

It was both a sick joke and a full circle moment to be back at the same place where they had first hooked up. Or, maybe ‘hooked up' was too casual of a term considering Agatha felt like she was being dismantled by Rio that night in late June. And the gentle but continuous way Rio had kept breaking her down for the last six months. Shattering barrier after barrier within Agatha, taking a bulldozer to the once impenetrable wall she had spent decades tediously building. And Rio had just–

Burned it all down.

As soon as they were in the master bedroom, Agatha pulled Rio in by the lapels of her suit jacket, kissing her as though it were the last time. And though Rio returned it, threading her fingers through Agatha’s hair, she pulled away when Agatha’s hand made a play for her belt buckle.

“Not that I’m not game,” Rio spoke breathlessly. “But are you not tired? Hungry? It’s been a long day. We don’t have to have sex out of obligation.”

Agatha almost laughed, almost. “Do I seem like the type to fuck when I don’t actually want to?”

“Agatha, you had a panic attack. You became president elect-”

“I don’t want that right now.” She said, feebly tugging on Rio’s jacket. “The title, the power. I want my mind to shut the fuck up. I want you to be rough and I want you to make me beg and cry and scream until I can’t take it anymore.”

More often than not, Agatha had the power in the exchange, it didn't matter if she was giving or receiving. She always had the fucking power and after today, she had never resented it more.

“Oh, baby…” Rio let her hands drop down to cradle Agatha’s face, understanding washing over her. Understanding that Agatha needed this right now, she needed to have someone else take on the weight of the expectations. “I can do that, but you have to very explicitly tell me what you want. I want you to trust me.”

“I already trust you.”

Agatha did not give away her power or autonomy freely, but she trusted Rio with it. She trusted her to carry it, she trusted her to take care of it all. To take care of her.

“Words, my love. Use them.” Rio softly curled her lips upwards.

Agatha’s eyes flitted to the cane Rio currently had hooked around her elbow. “Use it on me.”

Rio’s brows shot up. “Really?”

“Like you haven’t thought about it.”

“I mean, it’s crossed my mind. But I figured that what is essentially a wooden rod swinging against you…wouldn’t feel nice.”

Agatha disagreed, to her, it sounded like heaven.

“Rio, I don’t want to think. I want to take simple orders and follow them.” Her voice shook, not out of anxiety but out of desperation. “Be mean, be strict. I know there's a full fledged sadist in there somewhere.”

And her girlfriend didn’t even try to hide her smirk. “Fine, but we need an actual safeword then.”

They had avoided picking one, not that they often needed one. Most of the time they communicated just fine, anything heavier and they used the traffic light system.

“I can just call red if I need to.”

“No. I’m not doing anything without a concrete safeword.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, scoffing. “Okay…electoral college.”

“Electoral college?” Rio chuckled. “Really?”

“Can you think of anything less sexy right now?”

“Mmmhh,” Rio thought, “Red pill.”

“Thoughts and prayers.”

“Back the blue.”

“Woke.”

“Patriot.”

“Patriot?” Agatha snorted. “Now we’re just dicking around.”

“Better than electoral college.”

“Fine. Patriot.” Agatha released her hold on Rio’s blazer.

“Great.” Rio’s hands dropped too. “Put your hair up and take off your clothes.”

“My hair…?”

“Easier to grip.”

Agatha’s stomach flipped at that, but she obeyed. Finding a hair tie and pulling her hair back into a half-assed ponytail before stripping herself of her heels and wrinkled pantsuit that she had been wearing for twenty-hours at this point.

Rio patiently waited, making no move to do the same or help. “Underwear too.”

She reached around her back, undoing and discarding her bra. Then hooking her fingers in the waistband of her panties and pulling them down her legs. Rio’s eyes roamed every inch of her as if they hadn’t a hundred times prior, assessing her. The analytical gaze made her feel like she was in trouble, like Rio was calculating just what exactly she was going to do to her. Thank fuck her underwear were already gone because that look alone would’ve made her ruin them completely.

Rio licked her bottom lip, strangling the cane in her dominant hand. “Hermosa.”

Agatha flushed. “That’s not mean.”

“Bed.” Rio motioned with her head, briefly setting her cane down to take off her blazer.

As Agatha approached the mattress she heard another order.

“On all fours.”

Rio’s tone had lost its normal warmth, its affection. Now replaced by blunt commands. The anticipation sent shivers down her spine as she did as told, getting on her hands and knees near the end of the bed.

She briefly peeked over her shoulder, watching as Rio rolled the sleeves of her button up to her elbow. She didn’t do anything else before making her way to Agatha, purposely keeping her clothes on to add another layer to the growing power imbalance.

A familiar touch came to her back, nails slowly scraping over the expanse of her vertebrae before stopping at the space between her shoulder blades. Rio pressed down, a silent instruction for her head to meet the sheets as her ass stayed in the air. Agatha complied, fingers splayed against the duvet.

“Good girl.” Rio whispered as her lips ghosted against the shell of her ear. “Now, how about you tell me exactly what you want to happen.”

Agatha’s head was turned to the side, cheek resting against the bed. “I want you to fuck me.”

Rio’s hand wound itself around the length of her ponytail, snapping her head back with a harsh tug. “Speak up.”

The tension was delicious, her mouth dropping. “Oh fuck.”

“Told you, easier grip.” Rio’s teeth grazed her ear. “Try again.”

Agatha’s brain slowly but surely quieted, whittling down to giving her answer. “I want you to fuck me. Use me. Hurt me. I don’t care. Anything.”

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already this fucking needy?”

Finally, the degradation she craved was starting to come out.

“Yes.”

“Yes, what?”

Her breath hitched. “Yes, sir.”

Rio let go of her hair, allowing Agatha’s head drop back down carelessly. “There we go.”

Agatha peered over her shoulder to see where Rio was going, but a smack to her ass startled her.

“Ojos pa’lante. Si no haces caso, està noche no vas a venir.” Eyes forward. You disobey and you won’t be coming tonight. Her girlfriend reprimanded, holding the flesh and pinching to elongate the sting. Agatha was silently thanking god that she had learned Spanish back when she picked up Latin during law school. “Amaría dejarte un desastre gimiendo.” I’d love to leave you a whimpering mess. “Edge you again and again with no relief in sight.”

A whine formed in the back of her throat, subconsciously moving her hips back towards the touch. That apparently wasn’t allowed, another slap landing on her ass as a result.

“Rio-”

“You don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.” Her voice was lethal. “No moving, no looking, no complaining. You’re not in charge right now. You’re nothing. Understand?”

There’s the sadist.

Her eyes looked at the headboard as her blood rushed to her clit. “Yes, sir.”

Rio’s voice got further away but Agatha didn’t look, another spank was enticing but not if it meant not getting to come. She needed an orgasm or six after the day she had.

She heard some slight shuffling before Rio returned behind her, and Agatha expected Rio to start. She expected to feel the pain of a cane baring down across her ass. Instead, she felt the cool, brushed metal trailing up her inner thigh. She bit her lip as it teased her, her legs spread wide on the bed, vulnerable.

Agatha strangely didn’t feel scared, she knew there was the chance of it, giving over this much control to Rio. But as the rectangular metallic handle of the cane inched tantalizingly closer to the apex of her thighs, her thoughts went static.

Rio hovered the handle right over her now glistening cunt, but didn’t make contact. Tempting Agatha to try and move her hips back again. She didn’t take the fucking bait, if only for the sake of her release at the end of this.

A whimper was emitted into the room as the phantom sensation of something to grind on was removed.

“Fist your hands in the sheets, cariño.” Rio spoke, pulling the cane back. “You’re going to need an outlet.”

Her fingers curled into the comforter, exhaling the air from her lungs.

“I don’t even need to restrain you, so obedient. Didn’t have to gag you either.” Rio crooned lovingly. “Where was this all those times I had to subdue you? Where’s my bratty girl?”

Agatha’s brain buffered for a minute, was she supposed to answer? She wasn’t meant to speak unless spoken to, which technically she was, but it sounded rhetorical. Rio had deemed her lack of response inadequate, another swat landing on her ass. That one was going to leave an outline right over MINE, but any bruises left by the cane would most likely cover it.

“I asked you a question.”

“Not here. Please.” She said through gritted teeth.

“Please, what? What are you begging me for?”

And she passed the point of shame a long time ago. “Please, spank me.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, mi amor.” Rio grabbed her hip, fingers curling around possessively. “That’s not all of it.”

“With the cane.” Agatha amended. “Spank me with the cane.”

“Mmmmh.” Rio hummed while debating. “You think you deserve it?”

“Please, I’ll do anything. Please, sir.” She croaked.

“Would you let me fuck you til you collapse? Put the vibrator in you and make you come til you beg me to stop? Would you let me tie you up and use your mouth to get myself off? Would you bow down to me and plead for me to use your throat? Be my own personal cock slut?”

Fuck, any of those sounded good to her.

“Anything, sir. Anything, anything.” She chanted, hoping to get her sincerity across.

“God, you’re so pretty like this.” Rio dug her nails into the soft flesh, biting at the bone. “Desperate and pathetic.”

That fractured something within Agatha, something feral. Her thoughts no longer plagued about the outside world, just consumed by Rio.

She didn’t respond, that was an observation, not a question.

“I’m going to take it easy at first, I need you to tell me if it's too much or not enough. Got it?”

Even as she was about to strike Agatha, the care seeped through. Rio took purpose in the power she was currently wielding, putting Agatha first. She always put Agatha first.

She nodded against the bed. “Got it.”

Agatha didn’t flinch as she sensed Rio’s upswing of the cane, her muscles were relaxed, ready to take it. Upon contact, she moaned, the lacquered wood was exactly what she hoped it would be. Unlike Rio’s hand, it wasn’t an obnoxious stinging sensation but rather, a dull burn that worked itself to the muscle. There was more weight and momentum with an actual object instead of skin on skin.

“Love?”

One strike and she scrambled to give Rio the answer she knew she was waiting on.

“Not enough.” Agatha shuddered. “Harder.”

Her girlfriend lowly chuckled. “Why doesn’t that surprise me…”

And normally, Agatha would fight back with some retort along the lines of ‘because I literally fucking asked for it’, but slipping further and further into the gentle silence in her head felt better.

A few more practice strikes, Rio got the feel for how to swing it and how hard. The last one being particularly harsh and causing Agatha to actually tremble. And knowing these weren’t even the real ones sent arousal coursing through her veins, her inner thighs becoming increasingly sticky.

Rio leaned over, pressing a reassuring kiss to her shoulder. “Still okay?”

“I’m perfect.” Agatha smiled, wiggling her ass. “Gimme your worst.”

Rio stood up straight again, scoffing. “I’m thinking ten-”

“Twenty.”

“Ten.” She said again. “You’re going to count each one and thank me for it. If you want more after the first ten, then we’ll discuss it.”

“Whatever.” Agatha dumbly agreed. “Just, please, please do it.”

Rio had made sure the skin was already tender, so as she let the first real blow make contact, Agatha cried out in a mix of pleasure and pain.

“One.” She swallowed the drool pooling at the corner of her mouth. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Rio preened, waiting a beat before letting the cane whizz through the air again.

Another crack against her skin, another moan, another thank you.

Rio made sure to disperse the impact so that no particular point on Agatha’s ass would hurt more than any other. Meaning, no matter which way she wiggled or shuffled tomorrow, sitting was going to be a bitch.

The type of hurt the cane offered was cathartic to Agatha, the pain burrowed itself beneath her skin to eat away at muscle. It wasn’t sharp but bruising, the only other ache as bad was on her clit. By strike five, she was writhing and struggling to stay upright. Agatha bared her teeth and fought the instinct to grind against the mattress for some sort of stimulation. She didn’t, that wasn’t allowed and she wanted to behave for Rio.

Another blow administered, and Agatha’s knuckles were white from her grip on the sheets, her breath ragged. Her cheeks were hot, hairline sweaty, the hairs at the back of her neck stuck to the skin.

“S-six.” She choked out.

A minute passed with nothing before Rio’s hand shot out and lightly slapped her cunt, causing her to yelp. There was already so much blood flow focused in that area of her body, any contact felt like a bolt of lightning.

Her girlfriend’s fingers collected the dripping wetness before two came to her clit, idly playing with it. A pathetic whimper tore out of her, staying still for Rio to do as she pleased.

“You forgot something.” Rio scolded, fingers then pinching the swollen nub.

“F-fuck-” Agatha whined through shockwaves. “T-thank you.”

“Let's try that again, okay?” But it wasn’t a question, it was an order. Rio took her hand back, removing any stimulation.

The cane was brought down again, this time a little harder. Her eyes fell shut as she cried out in ecstasy, her body beginning to sink into the mattress.

“Ssssix.” Agatha slurred. “Thank you.”

“It was actually seven, but I’ll let it slide since you’re too horny to think properly.” Rio spoke, her hand gently caressing the skin now blooming with purple and blue. “My poor girl, too much of a slut to count.”

And Agatha felt wonderfully fuzzy by now, taking the hits and degradation and shutting everything else down. She wasn’t her job right now, she was Rio’s and nothing else mattered. The lack of control gave her a certain freedom to just be and let Rio handle and manipulate her.

Rio’s fingers kneaded her bruised ass, causing an ache to crawl through her body and make her tremble even more than she already was. A soft cry fell from her lips, her eyes beginning to overflow as tears dripped onto the sheets.

Rio’s fingers stopped, leaning down in obvious concern. “Baby, color?”

“Green, green.” Agatha communicated. “They’re good ones. Feels good.”

Her girlfriend made sure to catch her gaze, assuring Agatha wasn’t lying just for Rio’s benefit. Which she wasn’t, she’d rather be sobbing due to how turned on she was than the current state of her life.

Rio smiled, reaching down and swiping her thumb along Agatha’s cheekbone, collecting the tears. She brought her thumb to her mouth, sucking off the saltwater like one does with the bone marrow of a perfectly cooked duck.

She moaned lewdly, letting her digit release with a wet pop. “Eres tan linda cuando lloras.” You’re so pretty when you cry for me.

Agatha rapidly blinked, forcing more out in the hopes to be rewarded. Rio laughed at the display, taking a step back and getting into position with the cane.

“Look at that.” Rio spoke, her tone laced with condescension. “Estas llorando para mi aqui abajo también.” Your cunt is weeping for me too.

Agatha wailed as the wood struck her again, her own slick running down her thighs. If she hadn’t bought such high quality sheets, her nails would’ve ripped through them by now from the way her fingers were twisting.

“Eight.” Her voice shook. “T-thank y-you.”

“Two more, mi vida.” Rio announced. “You sure you want ‘em?”

“Please.” Agatha’s body burned as it struggled not to collapse. “Please, please, please-”

“Calm down, baby.” Rio said, “You’ll get what you need.”

Another crack against her skin, another moan, another thank you.

Rio let the ninth blow linger before she administered the tenth. “You gonna take the last one like a good girl?”

Agatha’s vocabulary was limited by now, her intellect was gone. “Please, I can be good.”

As if she hadn’t been this whole time.

“I know, sweetheart.” Rio purred. “You’ll get your reward soon.”

Upon the tenth strike, Agatha felt herself involuntarily drip onto the duvet below. “Tttt-en.” She hissed. “Ten. Thank you.”

Rio whirled the cane to its opposite end, the handle returning to her cunt, this time pressing against the puffy folds. “You did so good, pretty girl.”

Agatha didn’t move as the smooth metal glided through her, just mewled desperately to convey her need.

Rio’s hand choked up on the cane, giving it more tension behind it. “Go ahead. Show me how pathetic you are.”

She didn’t need more permission before moving her hips, grinding her neglected clit against the length. It wasn’t enough but it was more than nothing, so she didn’t complain. She didn’t want to chance asking for more and being denied.

“Dirty girl.” Rio's voice carried a darker undercurrent. “Humiliating yourself just to feel something. You know, this cane is vintage and you're rubbing yourself on it like a misbehaving bitch.”

Yeah, Agatha fucking knew it was vintage because she gave Rio shit for being pretentious enough to order a cane that ‘went better with her outfits’ instead of the one the hospital gave her. Now that she was nearly fully healed, Rio basically used it as an accessory, claiming it gave her a certain swagger. Which, it did, but Agatha wouldn’t give her that satisfaction.

Tomorrow she’d snap that fucking cane and use it as kindling just out of fucking spite. But for now, she let the words wash over her and pushed her hips back for more pressure.

She sobbed out a plea as she bucked. “Please, sir, I need more.”

The use of the title was always a safe bet to get her way, she knew how it affected Rio. How it made her feel like a god.

“Aww,” Rio tsk’d. “You want to be filled, mi amor?”

“Yes.”

Rio’s grip twisted, the longer end of the handle jutting upwards, gently parting her. “How badly?”

Agatha didn’t care if it was the handle, Rio’s fingers, or Rio’s strap. She needed to feel more, in whatever form that came in.

“S-so badly. Please, please-” Her tears streamed down her face as she begged, unabashedly asking for Rio to do it.

“Shhhh.” Rio pushed the metal, coated with Agatha’s slick, just a little further. There was a slight stretch, but it was definitely thinner and shorter than three fingers or Rio’s cock. “I got you, baby.”

Agatha’s cunt greedily swallowed the first inch, immediately pulsing around the curvature of the handle.

“More.” She husked, her clit bumping against the high point on the other end of the length. Of course it was perfect for someone's hand to rest against, but damn it was good for this too.

Rio let out a low snicker as she pushed it further into Agatha’s entrance, the thicker part pushing in with ease. “You’re taking it so well, cariño. Could you come just from this? I can feel you squeezing around it.”

The handle was stationary as her hips moved, her walls clenching around it. “Y-yeah.” She lifted her head when her neck started to stiffen. “Wish it was you.”

Rio pushed the rest in, probably no more than five inches. “Show me how desperate you are and I’ll let you choose how I fuck you.”

Agatha moaned at the thought, grinding back with a renewed sense of energy. She wanted Rio inside her and if all she had to do was come in order for that to happen, then all the better.

Rio’s free hand rested on her ass, gently pulling enough to expose her asshole. She felt the warm sensation of spit dripping onto it and Rio’s thumb massaging it around the tight ring of muscle before sinking in.

Agatha keened at Rio’s thumb working in her ass and the cane stroked along her walls, her clit being rubbed raw along the engraved vines of the handle.

“Feel full, baby?”

Agatha’s only response was a filthy whine as she contracted around the length inside her, her nervous system being overloaded. Rio’s thumb pumped faster, the friction adding a slight pain that drove Agatha closer to the edge.

Her tense thighs, stiff knees, and cramping fingers were barely noted by her brain as she worked toward her one singular goal.

“I’m gonna-” She breathed out as her clit thrummed, the low heat pool in her stomach. “Gonna come.”

And Rio didn’t stop, didn’t pull away, content to let Agatha have her reward. “Go ahead, mi alma. I want to see it.”

At Rio’s word, Agatha’s orgasm pulled her under. It wasn’t like others, it was stronger. It fucking suckerpunched her over and over again, threatening to choke her lungs of any air they might’ve once held.

But her mind went deliciously blank as she snapped her eyes shut and everything went searing white. A sob ripped out of her as her body crumbled onto the bed, Rio diligently removing her thumb to support her hips as they twitched.

“Good girl.” Rio whispered, coaxing her through it. “I’m so proud of you, my love.”

Agatha’s voice didn’t exist as her body went slack, her girlfriend gently pulling the handle out and setting the cane aside. Rio slowly lowered her onto the bed, letting her stomach fully rest against the duvet while she caught her breath.

Rio kissed her sweat sodden head, fingers twirling around the ends gathered by the hair tie. “Do you need us to stop?”

And the concern and care was appreciated, but one orgasm did not have her tapping out. Her eyes fluttered open. Finding Rio hunched over the side of the bed, still dressed, looking down at her.

“You said I’d get to choose how you fucked me.” Agatha quirked a brow. “I want the strap.”

Rio smiled down at her fondly. “Greedy girl.” She placed one more kiss on her temple before backing away. “Give me a minute.”

Agatha flopped over onto her back, wincing at the minimal pressure of the soft mattress cradling her battered ass. The ache of sitting down tomorrow caused a shudder to pass through her, her thighs pressing together.

After washing her hands, stripping, and situating herself in the harness, Rio returned. She stood at the end of the bed, snapping her fingers to get Agatha’s attention.

“C’mere, baby.” Rio said as Agatha sat up. “Crawl over and get me ready.”

Her mouth watered as she complied, crawling until she was sat right in front of her girlfriend. The strap positioned right slightly below her as she was still elevated by the mattress.

Rio’s hand found her ponytail again, winding it around her knuckles. “I’m not going to be gentle, so three taps on my hip if you need things to stop, okay?”

Agatha splayed her hands on Rio’s hips, lowering herself down. “Yes, sir.”

Her girlfriend’s free hand wrapped around the base of the strap, running the tip over Agatha’s bottom lip. “Open.”

Agatha parted her lips and dropped her jaw as Rio fed the strap into her mouth, the silicone heavy on her tongue. Rio kept the hold on her hair, a makeshift leash as her other hand fell away from the base. She looked up as she started bobbing her head, Rio’s pupils wide as fucking saucers as she watched.

She only gave Agatha about a minute to adjust before her hips started moving, snapping the strap forward as Agatha tried to pull back. She let out a sound of surprise, but it wasn’t unwelcome, the force.

“Told you I’d use your mouth.” Rio rasped, hips picking up speed. “Voy a usar tu garganta” I’m gonna fuck your throat raw.

Agatha clamped her thighs together, praying that it’d somehow give her even a small amount of stimulation. Rio, however, received constant stimulation from the grind pad at the base of the strap. Agatha knew when it’d hit against her clit particularly well because Rio’s hips would get a little jerky in their pace.

At one point Rio held Agatha’s head stationary as her hips did the work, literally fucking her throat for her own pleasure.

“You were made for this, baby.” Rio grunted, abs contracting. “You’re a natural at sucking my cock.”

Agatha's throat felt used, it felt raw, it felt as though she were just a hole for Rio and nothing more. And she loved it. Having no power, simply a toy to aid in Rio getting herself off.

She counted Rio having two orgasms before releasing her hold on Agatha’s hair, drool seeping out of her mouth and dripping down her chin. Rio smirked down at her as she inhaled a gulp of air through her mouth after only breathing through her nose for so long.

She brought a hand to Agatha's chin, tilting her head upwards. “Open.”

And Agatha did, wondering if this was just a break before Rio stuck the strap back down her throat.

“Tongue out.”

Agatha did so without question, the neurons in her brain firing rapidly to obey.

Rio pursed her lips before spitting onto Agatha’s tongue, keeping her thumb and forefinger on the dimple of her chin and watching her for a moment. Agatha made no move to do anything with the spit now pooling on the muscle.

“Swallow.”

Agatha retracted her tongue and let the spit coat her abused esophagus, eyes trained on Rio’s reaction.

“Good girl.” Rio proudly grinned. “On your back.”

And like the pet she currently felt like she was, Agatha listened. Falling onto the bed on her back, legs hanging off the side. Rio sank to her knees, hoisting Agatha’s legs over her shoulders.

She looked down and furrowed her brows in a silent question. Rio licked the arousal staining her inner thigh before speaking. “

“This part is just for me.” Rio explained, letting her teeth sink into the soft flesh as though the action punctuated the sentence.

She arched off the bed as her hands fisted, her knee-jerk reaction was to grab Rio’s head but she didn’t know if that was allowed. When Rio had deemed enough hickies littered her thighs, her mouth came to Agatha’s cunt, her fingers gently parting her. Brown eyes looked on hungrily, watching as Agatha leaked around nothing.

“You can touch, baby.” Rio said before diving in tongue-first.

“Oh, fuck-” Her hands flew to Rio’s hair, fingers threading. “Thank you.”

Rio’s mouth moved like she was trying to drink Agatha down, her tongue curling inside her as she slurped up whatever she could get. She was careful to avoid Agatha clit, refusing any friction that could lead her to an orgasm. Rio meant it, she was eating for her own pleasure, not Agatha’s.

Rio didn’t seem bothered as Agatha arched and twitched above her. Rio didn’t address the desperate pleas and pathetic noises that Agatha let out. Rio treated her cunt as entertainment for herself and Agatha writhing around as nothing more than a minor inconvenience.

When she did resurface, face shiny, Rio slowly crawled on top of her. Scooting Agatha back until her head was on the pillow, legs spread wide. Out instinct, Agatha canted her hips up, silently asking for Rio to fuck her.

“You want it, angel?” Rio asked, but she could already tell by Agatha’s make up stained down her face, wild hair, and uneven breathing pattern.

Her voice shattered, now hoarse from her throat being used. “I want it.”

Rio gently caressed her face, her dominant side easing if only slightly. “You’ve been so good for me and you’ve done so well. You can come as many times as you want. You don’t have to ask, tell me when to stop, okay?”

The praise made her preen, a languid smile spreading across her face. The sunlight through the windows was just starting to shine through, the shadow of the blinds projected onto their bodies as Rio lined up the tip of the strap.

Agatha slung her arms around Rio’s shoulders as she pressed her hips forwards. The entire length of the strap easily sank to the hilt, causing Agatha to groan while stretching around Rio’s cock. She was wet enough that there was no resistance, but it was larger than the handle of the cane.

Her first orgasm happened with Rio driving into her ruthlessly, a hand around her throat as she screamed for more. Rio didn’t allow for a reprieve after that, ducking her head down to lap at and bite down on her nipples, littering her chest with marks that matched the ones on her thighs.

Her second orgasm slammed into her before the first one had subsided, bowing off the bed as Rio’s hips smacked against her own. Her girlfriend jerked on top of her as she rode the wave of her own orgasm. Agatha mindlessly dug her nails into Rio’s back, angry red lines being left in their wake.

By her fifth orgasm, she was no longer able to hold onto Rio, her muscles were too weak. Her legs were sprawled apart as her eyes grew heavy, her body limp as her ribs shook with every inhale of oxygen. Her girlfriend took note and came to a stop, her own body glistening with sweat.

And though Rio had already noticed Agatha flagging, she said the safeword anyway. Her mind may have been muddled, but she wanted Rio to know that she could communicate her own limits.

“Patriot.” Agatha croaked, head lolling against the pillow.

Rio was pulling out before she had even finished the word, undoing the harness and dropping it to the floor. She laid down next to Agatha, pulling her into her arms and against her chest.

“I’m so proud of you, mi vida.” Rio whispered in between gentle touches and soft kisses. “You were so good.”

Agatha nuzzled further into Rio’s neck. “Good?”

“So good.” Rio repeated, knowing it’s what Agatha needed to hear. “So perfect.”

Her eyes closed as she wept, not from anything Rio did, but at the catharsis. Of not having the stress or expectations weighing her down, smothering her. Of Rio’s arms wrapped around her and holding her through it without complaint. The tears threatened to glue her eyes shut, her body begging for rest, for sleep.

Her girlfriend caught on, pulling back fractionally. “C’mon, baby. Bath time.”

“Mmmh.” She waved a flaccid hand around to dismiss the proposal. “I’m tired. Lemme sleep.”

“No, let me take care of you. We’ll take a bath and get some food in you, then bedtime.”

“Rio, I’m fine. Stop fussing-”

“Agatha.” Rio stated, waiting for her to open her eyes again. “I need this too.”

And as she came back to reality, that wonderfully blank part of her mind vanished. Her head began to ache as everything rushed back in, remembering all the troubles she’d escaped for the past however long they’d been fucking.

Agatha blinked, she was in no mental or physical state to fight against Rio’s giant puppydog eyes. “Okay.”

“Okay.” Rio slid off the bed, holding out her hand for Agatha.

“I don’t wanna moooooooove.” She pouted, maybe if she just laid still as a rock Rio would give up.

“Fine, I’ll carry you.” Rio leaned forward, one knee on the bed as her hand gripped Agatha.

“You’re not strong enough-” She said, but was swiftly interrupted by Rio dragging her to the edge and throwing her over her shoulder. “How the fuck-”

“You’re 5’4” and weigh a hundred twenty pounds.” Rio’s hold was steady as she cut across the room to the en suite.

“I’m five-foot fucking five!” Agatha growled.

“Sure you are.”

And fine, maybe Rio had a point about the bath. The hot water soothing her sore body as Rio sat behind her and massaged the parts that particularly hurt. However the water also stung like an absolute bitch on her ass, the skin was tender and battered. She rested more and more of her body against Rio as her girlfriend washed her hair, letting her nails softly scrape her scalp.

The tub was heated so they didn’t have to worry about the water going cold, spending far too much time enmeshed in one another as the water lapped over them. They fell into a comfortable silence, Rio’s fingers drawing mindless patterns against her stomach as her head rested on her girlfriend's shoulder.

“You know,” Agatha spoke, her voice like gravel. “I’ve been thinking.”

“How?” Rio quipped, “It’s dawn.”

“This doesn’t really feel like it’s ending.”

Rio’s chin was sat atop her head. “Not if the past few hours have anything to do with it…”

“Technically,” Agatha pursed her lips. “We said we’d stop when I became president.”

“Right…”

“And inauguration day isn’t until January…”

Rio’s head ducked down, copper eyes meeting hers. “You mean-”

“I mean I wouldn’t mind getting two more months, would you?”

“I definitely would not mind.” Rio smiled. “But how are we going to explain my continued presence on the team?”

“Helping with the transition of office?”

“And Jen will buy that?”

“You underestimate how manipulative I can be, my love.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I’d be a dumbass to underestimate you.”

“Yes, you would.” Agatha tilted her lips up to give Rio a chaste kiss. “But you’re not. Lucky me.”

“Obviously I am all for this, but take a beat and sleep on it.” She pressed her lips to Agatha’s forehead. “You’re tired and I just put you through the ringer, hell, the country as a whole put you through the ringer.”

“So?”

“So, I don’t want you making big decisions right after something so intense.”

And Agatha didn’t like how that felt like a rejection. “Fine. Nevermind. Just fucking forget it.”

“Agatha.”

“No, it was-” She felt herself about to cry for the twentieth time today. “It was stupid anyway.”

Rio grabbed her face, hand cupping her cheek. “Hey, you know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, I don’t. I actually don’t know anything.” Agatha hissed. “I’m just a dumb slut who can’t count, right?”

Rio’s face fell. “That was just dirty talk. It wasn’t real.” Her lip quivered with guilt. “I love you. I don’t actually think that.”

Oh, fuck.

Dick move.

“Shit,” Agatha sobered. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, that was fucked up of me.” She sat up further, placing her hand on Rio’s wrist. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you only said it because I asked you to, I shouldn’t have thrown it back at you like that.”

Rio’s eyes welled. “So why did you?”

Agatha sighed, knowing exactly why she did it. Being self aware fucking sucked. “Because it felt like you didn’t want me, so I snapped.”

“Agatha, all I want is you.”

“And for the life of me, I can never fucking figure out why.”

“Baby, you have so much love to give. I know you pretend that you don’t, but you feel so much. And you choose to give that love to me. You choose to feel that much for me. Even when shutting down would be easier.” A stray tear fell down her cheek, one that Agatha quickly wiped away with the pad of her thumb. “Mi alma, you are so loved. You are so good.”

And that made Agatha feel worse, because all Rio did was everything asked of her and Agatha still lost her temper. Like a stray that’s brought into the home, showered with love and loyalty, only to bite at the first upset.

“I’m sorry.” Agatha repeated. “I’m really, really sorry.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

As if that made things better.

But right on que–

“I love you too.” Rio whispered. “How about we eat something?”

“Okay.”

After they had gotten out, Rio applied some soothing lotion to help with bruises on Agatha’s ass. This was becoming habit-forming. There’s a very special type of intimacy in rubbing healing ointment on your partner's ass on a semi-regular basis.

They got dressed, Rio helping Agatha get on one of her stupid XXL t-shirts. And as it hung off Agatha’s frame, Rio grinned.

“See, doesn’t that worn out polyester feel so much better than genuine silk?” Rio asked as she stood dressed in the Georgetown sweater and boxers.

“I’m gonna strangle you with genuine silk.” She deadpanned.

“Hot.” Rio dramatically wiggled her eyebrows. “Kinky.”

Agatha waited on the bed while Rio went downstairs to scrounge up something to eat. Technically breakfast, as it was seven in the morning on November 5th. She waltzed back in, two waters in one hand, a plate in the other.

“So somehow, I really don’t know fucking how, this place has an even worse selection of groceries than the home you actively live in.”

“What gourmet meal did you prepare this time?”

Rio climbed on the bed, handing her a water. “An omelet is not gourmet.” She presented the plate. “And neither is this peanut butter toast but it was the best I could do.”

“It’s carbs and protein. Two out of four major food groups isn’t bad.” Agatha grinned.

“Well then, bon appetit.” She flourished her hand over the toasted white bread smeared with peanut butter. “M’lady.”

Agatha had one piece, then another at Rio’s insistence. Once half her water was gone, they got ready for bed. Rio closed the blinds, shuttering themselves away from the outside world. Agatha knew there’d be press and responsibilities later, but for now, she curled up under the covers with her head on Rio’s chest.

“I did mean it.” Agatha’s voice came out small into the dark, quiet room. “About two more months.”

Rio pulled her in closer, not that it was really possible, but she did so anyway. “I’ll take however much time with you I can get.”

Agatha curled her lips upwards, burrowing her nose against Rio’s neck. “Goodnight, my love.”

“Goodnight, mi amor.”

“I’m gonna snap that cane in half.”

“Agatha, it’s vintage.”

Chapter Text

Dating the vice president of America was one thing, dating the president elect? Whole new ballgame. Over the past few weeks since election day, Rio and Agatha had to become even more covert than before. Without the luxury of being on the campaign trail with access to hotel rooms 24/7, they formed their own routine. The routine being, Rio sneaking into the veep’s residence late at night, and sneaking out early in the morning. The only exception being November 11th, the anniversary of Nicky’s death.

Rio had gone into the office that morning completely unaware, when she asked Jen where Agatha was, the chief of staff simply said ‘personal day’. But something was off, she could feel it. After approximately seven unanswered texts and two missed calls, it finally dawned on her. She faked cramps and took a half day, arriving at her girlfriend’s doorstep with an arm full of reusable tote bags filled to the brim with groceries. And though Agatha insisted she was fine, because of course she did, Rio knew better. The redness eating away at the sea of blue in her iris, the quiver of her lower lip, the Yale sweater and a pair of Rio’s boxers adorning her body.

They spent the day watching Agatha’s comfort movies, no surprise, they were nearly all musicals. Rio learned that Nicky was cremated, his ashes tucked safely away in an ancestral locket that Agatha never wore out of fear of it getting damaged or lost. When evening came, Rio cooked her a homemade meal. It wasn’t anything impressive, a half-assed lasagna, but comfort food nonetheless. Her girlfriend scarfed it down without complaint, most likely because it was the first thing she had eaten all day. Rio noticed when things got bad, Agatha stopped taking care of herself. Her knee jerk instinct was to neglect her basic needs, as if she didn't deserve to have them met. And Rio didn’t say it, she probably never would, but she was certain Evanora had something to do with it.

It was only 9PM when they climbed into bed, Agatha happily embedding herself into Rio’s side. She engulfed Agatha in her arms, offering her a small piece of solace where she could. Rio called out sick the next day, as did Agatha, but Jen didn’t seem to make the connection. Too preoccupied with being newly engaged, having proposed two days after the election. In her mind, Rio’s period was killing her and Agatha was mourning her son. Which was only half true, but Rio didn’t want to leave and any work that was absolutely necessary could be done from her laptop in Agatha’s bed.

Jen also didn’t have any suspicion about Rio staying on staff, agreeing that she should be rewarded for all her hard work on the campaign trail. Not that Agatha would have listened if Jen had disagreed anyway.

From then on out, Rio snuck in and out about two or three nights out of the week. Most of the press was uninterested in stalking Agatha’s home given just how many interviews she was giving on a constant basis. So, with Kate’s help, Rio was able to spend the night with her lovely girlfriend at her leisure. Finding that nights spent alone felt…off? She’d been alone most of her life after her parents died, the majority of her family still living in Puerto Rico. But now, her bed felt empty. It didn’t smell like Agatha and she didn’t wake up smothered by hair, being alone suddenly felt so lonely.

Even when she did go to Puerto Rico for Thanksgiving (putting that lightly since her family avidly hated everything that Thanksgiving encompassed), she missed Agatha. And she couldn’t even say that she missed her girlfriend because, god forbid, her abuelita overheard and started badgering her about when she’ll bring a girl home to the family. All of her cousins were disgustingly married and domestic, huddles of small children running around and bouncing off the walls. Even her one other gay cousin had a husband, they were open, but her abuelita didn’t know that and Rio wasn’t a snitch. She called Agatha that night, speaking in hushed tones as her girlfriend ranted about whatever bullshit DC event she had to attend, Agatha ending the call with a genuine “Miss you, baby. I love you.” after saying goodnight.

The silver lining in all this being, Agatha had finally let go of whatever was holding her back. Maybe it was the extended timeframe, maybe it was that time still felt fleeting. Either way, she’d become more comfortable with Rio after the election, softer. Which was saying something, because Agatha was as soft as a fucking beartrap on a day to day basis. But with Rio? She was just softer.

It was the first week in December, a Sunday, and Rio was sprawled out in Agatha’s king-sized bed. The sheets were tangled around her still naked body from the night prior, as she roused, she immediately clocked the lack of warmth from her girlfriend’s breath and the frigidness of her feet. The woman always had fucking freezing feet, ones she pressed against Rio’s shins in the middle of the night. She propped herself up on her elbows, slowly coming back to earth and scanning the room for signs of her love. Rio was about to get up when Agatha’s footsteps could be heard in the hall.

The door creaked open, as if she was trying to be mindful of Rio still sleeping. When she walked in, she stopped dead in her tracks. She was in her purple and green silk robe, plate in hand, unamused look on her face. “Damnit. I was trying to surprise you.”

Rio lazily smiled. “With what?”

Agatha held up the plate as she crossed the room to the bed. “Breakfast!”

“You made me breakfast?” Rio’s brows furrowed, her girlfriend didn’t cook. Rio wasn’t even sure she’d ever seen Agatha turn on an oven, let alone use it.

“Yes, because I’m the perfect woman.” She stated, sitting back down next to her in bed. “A chef in the kitchen, a slut in the bedroom. That’s what they say, right?”

“It's an acrobat.” Rio lightly chuckled, sitting up and surveying the plate.

“Who the fuck wants an acrobat in their kitchen?”

Rio’s grin widened as she took in the meal her girlfriend had prepared. “Are these eggo waffles?”

Agatha picked one up and bit down, resulting in a crisp crunching sound. “Even splurged for the buttermilk ones, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you’re too generous.” Rio picked one up before flopping back down on her back, popping part of it into her mouth. “And it’s cooked all the way through.”

“I can work a toaster.”

“I always knew you could, querida.” She winked as Agatha lightly elbowed her. “Is there a special reason for the princess treatment this morning?”

Agatha pursed her lips, getting slightly bashful. It threw Rio off, her girlfriend was never bashful. “I just figured, you’re always taking care of me. You deserve to be taken care of too, I wanna be better about that.”

A simple explanation, but add in the emotionally repressive, ex-catholic factor, and that statement held a lot of weight. Because Agatha left a fuckton unsaid, and Rio understood why, but hearing her verbalize even the easiest of things, made her giddy.

“Thank you, baby.” Rio said softly, taking another bite of her eggo. “I appreciate it.”

“I also wanted to ask you something.” Agatha muffled through another bite of waffle. “Not that I expect anything, and you can say no–”

“What is it?”

Agatha blew out a breath, summoning courage. “I know you usually spend the holidays with your family in Puerto Rico, and I usually spend them holed up here. But seeing as this is the last free Christmas I’ll have in the next four years,” She looked down at her partially eaten eggo. “I was wondering if you’d want to spend it together…with your birthday being close and all.”

Rio’s lungs tripped over themselves, twisting in shock. Consequently, she started hacking on her waffle, the squishy food snuggly fitting itself in her windpipe. She hastily sat up, coughing and fighting to get air. Agatha lurched forward in concern, patting Rio’s back to try and dislodge the eggo. Because of all the things Agatha could have asked, Rio did not expect it to be that. After sputtering for another minute, she finally swallowed, her breath becoming even again.

“Should I take that as a no?” Agatha rose a singular brow, her tone playful but in a way that let Rio know she was compensating.

“No.” She wheezed. “No, no. Sorry, I- I wasn’t expecting that.”

Agatha didn’t say anything back and Rio could see her internally retreating, rebuilding that fucking wall brick by brick. She dropped her waffle back onto the plate, bringing her hands to hold Agatha’s face.

“I’d love to, baby.”

Agatha’s blue locked onto her brown. “Yeah?”

“Of course, I’m surprised you wanted to.”

“You said you’d show me your childhood home after the election.” She smirked. “It’s after the election.”

Rio’s eyebrows shot up. “You want to go to Iowa?! Hickville USA?”

“Well the allure is just so charming when you put it like that.”

“Seriously? You want to spend your last Christmas of freedom in the midwest? In the middle of nowhere? In Iowa?”

“If you keep putting it like that, I might have to rethink my decision.” Agatha let her hands rest on Rio’s wrists. “And it’s better than spending it alone, or not seeing you on your birthday. We already fumbled mine, might as well try and improve on yours.”

Rio’s lips curled upwards, her eyes misting over. Agatha was not a person who did anything she didn’t want to do, except when it came to Rio.

“But how are you going to sneak away?” Rio tilted her head. “You can’t just disappear.”

“Rogers handles all the main stuff, but after the 23rd, I don't have anywhere else to be until the 27th.” She said, “I can whittle down my detail to just Kate if I’m stubborn enough.”

“And Kate’s okay with going to Iowa for the holidays?”

“Her mom is dead. What else is she going to do?”

“She has a girlfriend…”

“So?”

“So, she might like to spend it with her girlfriend.”

Agatha pursed her lips for a moment. “I’ll tell Kate to bring her then, I’m assuming your house has more than one room?”

Rio smiled. “Yes, and a barn which I've been renovating into a guest house for when my very extended family visits.”

“A guest house? Okay, top one percent.”

“You really want this?” Rio’s thumb glided along her cheekbone, tenderly coaxing her into a genuine sense of security.

“I really do.”

God, her heart ached. The way Agatha was communicating now compared to when they first got together were stark opposites of one another. Ensuring that even if this was temporary, Rio knew Agatha loved her. Knew that this meant just as much to Agatha as it did to her.

She didn’t say anything else, she didn’t have to, opting to lean in and let her lips brush against Agatha’s. They’d had softer kisses before, more gentle, but this one stood out. Because as Agatha’s tongue darted out, gliding into her mouth, it wasn’t a power play. It wasn’t one or the other vying for control.

Rio opened her mouth wider, trying to get as much of her girlfriend as humanly possible. The kiss turned passionate, but not out of some undying hunger, it was out of an overarching need to be close. After a few minutes spent craning their bodies, Rio finally tugged Agatha onto her lap. As her girlfriend straddled her, the plate clattered to the ground, breakfast forgotten entirely.

Neither of them seemed to notice, not with Rio’s hands snaking underneath her robe and Agatha’s fingers twisted in Rio’s hair. She undid the belt that kept the robe together, pupils dilating at her favorite sight being revealed to her again. Agatha’s shoulders, breasts, tummy, and thighs taking over her vision. And that’s what Agatha was to her, a fucking vision. She looked back up to Agatha’s face. Her flushed cheeks and bright smile. Her untamed bedhead and perfect nose that gods must’ve wept while creating.

“I’m so fucking lucky.” Rio whispered, hands caressing her girlfriend's hips where the fabric of the robe had pooled.

Agatha pulled her closer, her nose nuzzling Rios. “Most people would think so with a naked woman in their lap.”

“No,” She said, breath ghosting over Agatha’s lips. “I’m lucky because I have you in my lap, cariño.”

The other woman’s lips grazed hers as she spoke. “God, I love you.”

The admissions of love were getting less and less rare, the words rolled off Agatha’s tongue without much effort anymore. And Rio would never tire of hearing them, of those words being directed at her.

Agatha dove in before Rio could say it back, not that she needed to, her girlfriend was already aware. Those full lips kissed with so much honesty, so much trust, moving as if it were second nature. Her mouth then traveled to her neck, lazy and unhurried, hair curtaining her face before moving down to lap at Rio’s collarbones. Agatha’s tongue dipped at the hollow of her throat as Rio’s hands slid up from her hips to rest on her back, refusing to let her touch part from Agatha for even a minute.

Because even a minute would be too long.

Agatha shuffled back, using a hand to discard the robe, tossing it carelessly on the floor alongside their eggos. She ducked back down to land on Rio’s chest, littering kisses before taking an already hardened nipple in mouth, lavishing it with her tongue. The neglected breast being palmed before Agatha switched her attention to it. Rio arched in response, getting as close as humanly possible and letting out a muted moan at the sensation. There was a notable absence of teeth or sucking, not aiming to claim Rio but rather, praise her.

Her heart thundered against her ribcage as Agatha moved lower, languidly mouthing down her stomach, nose brushing over the faint happy trail on Rio’s abdomen. Agatha’s hands were gentle, savoring the feeling of the pad of her fingers running down Rio’s waist, down to her hips. Rio’s legs, which were already sprawled out, spread further to accommodate Agatha nestling herself between them.

Rio looked down at this woman, the one currently trailing her admiration through the trimmed thatch of hair, dragging her lips towards where she knew Rio needed them most. Agatha’s eyes flitted to meet Rio’s, endless crystal blue without a cloud in sight. There was no power, or control, just simplicities. She didn’t make Rio beg and Rio didn’t want to, this wasn’t that.

It wasn’t a carnal need to be fulfilled, it was an act of love.

She bunched the face-framing pieces of Agatha’s hair back, wanting an unobstructed view. Agatha’s fingers wrapped around her hips as her breath ghosted against the apex of Rio’s thighs, already wet and waiting. She wasn’t surprised, her body was always reactive for Agatha, her brain subliminally communicating that this was everything. The lazy Sunday morning spent in bed with toaster waffles, planning the holidays, a gorgeous woman between her legs.

And not just any gorgeous woman, but her gorgeous woman.

Rio let out a strangled whine as Agatha’s tongue made contact, flat and slow licks at first. Their time together was limited, but Rio would never know that by the care that Agatha showed. She steadily worked Rio up, her movements purposeful as Rio let out unrestrained sounds in response. A low moan, a soft whimper, a gentle “More, baby.”

And Agatha didn’t hesitate, her mouth picking up speed as she brought two fingers beneath her chin, the digits sinking into her. That’s when Rio’s fingers flexed, nails digging in at the root to keep Agatha right where she wanted her. On the next return of her fingers, in tandem with lips wrapping around her clit and sucking, Rio broke. A shuddering scream leaving her throat as her stomach contracted from the pleasure, legs closing around her girlfriend's head. Her veins flooded with heat and Agatha didn’t stop, content to stay camped out between her thighs.

“Agatha!” Rio cried as she let her girlfriend continue to overstimulate her. “Mi amor…” She panted, peering down and watching as Agatha devoured her wholly and completely.

“Mmmhhh.” Her girlfriend's voice reverberated against her cunt, eating to satiate a hunger that was more than just bodily. An internal flame being drenched in gasoline and threatening to burn everything in its unforgiving wake.

And if Rio’s life was reduced to mere ashes as a result, then it couldn’t be bad. Because all it meant in the long run was that she had Agatha, that she got to keep a woman who had wedged herself underneath Rio’s skin. Whose presence and love and words had branded her, through the epidermis and right to the fucking bone. Creating scar tissue that she hoped never healed.

She’d thought about it of course, giving up her career and cutting her losses. Letting herself believe the fantasy of Maine and being Agatha’s wife rather than her ex. Rio’s brain played it on a loop, that dream. Where mornings like these were the default, where two or three nights a week wasn’t enough.

It only took a few more minutes until Rio came again, shattering into a million pieces that were caught and cradled diligently by Agatha. She pulled at the strands in her gasp, tugging Agatha back up and reconnecting their lips in a desperate kiss. Tasting herself on Agatha’s tongue and flipping them over, running her hand down her girlfriend’s stomach and cupping her. Rio’s fingers ran through sticky hair and dripping folds, hearing a small gasp from Agatha in response.

She could listen to those indiscernible noises for the rest of her life, the sound of jumbled moans and disconnected whimpers as Rio’s digits sunk in. She could watch Agatha’s jaw drop and her eyes bug until the day she died, her girlfriend's cool exterior cracking beneath her touch.

Agatha clung to her, back bowing of the bed while Rio buried herself in the crook of her neck. She wanted that scent forever, the one of Agatha’s skin. It was sweet and uniquely her, it was addictive, especially when she was sweating like she was right now, the milky soft skin flooding her sinuses in the purest way.

“Rio,” Agatha bit out, hips tilting up for more. “O-oh fuck, fuck.”

“I got you, baby. I got you.”

She kept going until Agatha’s body snapped like a rubberband did when the tension became too much. Muffled affections fell from her love’s lips as she came, nails gently raking up Rio’s back. Weighted breaths filling the air as Rio turned her attention to Agatha’s throat, letting her mouth do physically what she couldn’t do emotionally. When she pulled her head back up, those eyes she had engrained into her memory looked up at her so earnestly.

She kept her fingers going, this time adjusting her thigh so her thrusts had more power behind them. And Agatha’s gaze didn’t waver, not as her head tipped back in ecstasy. Not as her lashes fluttered, not as Rio brought her to the brink again. Her gaze never left Rio’s.

The intimacy was simple, but no less meaningful. The touch was straightforward, but no less filled with love. The moment was easy, but no less significant. Any life lived with her, with Agatha, with the love she’d never truly let go of–

Was time well spent.

It was time she’d want back again and again.

The vignettes her mind would compile and cement at the forefront of her memory. Her undying devotion calcified in her chest until her final breath.

Her body melded against Agatha’s as her girlfriend reached her peak over and over. Only coming to a halt as her frame began to tremble, the sensation too much to take.

As they laid in bed, out of breath and glimmering with a thin sheen of sweat, Rio let out a tiny chuckle.

“So, Iowa?”

Agatha smiled back, a blush coating her cheeks. “Iowa.”

Monday morning came, and Rio went back to pretending that Agatha was just her boss and nothing more. She always would, that was the deal. They were walking through the White House to the west wing, Agatha had a meeting with Steve about something having to deal with the transition of power. She and Jen were speaking as everyone else followed, Rio trailing along in the back.

As they made their way down the hall, Rio fell behind as she saw Peggy speaking with numerous other White House staff. Seeing as it was December, she had to decorate the place. There were already some decorations up, but it was made clear that the process was taking longer than expected. Rio stopped walking as she noted the light smolder out of her eyes, shoulders deflating. Agatha and the rest of the staff kept going, unaware they’d lost a member.

“I suppose whatever upsets the masses the least.” Peggy’s accented voice spoke, idly twirling some ribbon in her hands. “I couldn’t care less.”

And Rio couldn’t blame her for her callous attitude, hell, if she were in Peggy’s place she’d probably be worse. The first lady’s gaze pivoted when she felt Rio staring, furrowing her brows for a moment before striding down the end of the hall to where Rio stood. As auburn curls bounced confidently in her direction, Rio considered whether or not she could bolt.

“We’ve never formally met.” Peggy spoke in her heels and perfectly tailored dress, ribbon still being strangled in her grasp. “Rio, right?”

Why the fuck did Rio stop? What did she stand to gain from this? A morbid curiosity put to rest? “Uh, yes.”

“Your work on the trail was commendable. I was telling Steve as much when we spoke at the DNC.”

“Oh, thank you, madam-”

“Please, call me Peggy.” Her voice carried an undercurrent of resent. “I’m sick of titles.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Rio politely smiled. “I should probably-”

“However,” Peggy cut her off, “I do wonder what has made the veep keep you on staff without a permanent position in her administration. Unless I’m uninformed and she has offered you a job.” And took a step forward. “I’ve had a good amount of free time on my hands, four years to be exact. And when you find yourself that bored, you start people watching.”

“Hmmm.” Rio nodded. “Well-”

“Like the chief White House usher for instance, he has no clue that I know about his flirty back and forth with one of the cleaning staff. Both of them make googly eyes and smile at one another, and yet they think nobody knows.”

Rio steeled her jaw. “Fun.”

“Kind of like you and the veep.”

“Excuse me?” She asked somehow despite her ears currenting ringing and her soul exiting her body. “I think you’re mistaken.”

“It’s not an accusation.” Peggy’s voice remained calm. “I haven’t told anyone, not even my husband. He doesn’t need to throw another tantrum in Agatha’s office.” She smiled. “But I have seen the way you look at her, how she looks at you. After reading people for so long as a lawyer and then a judge, I was already pretty great at it. But turning into a symbolic housewife with nothing better to do really honed my skillset."

“Peggy, I would really appreciate it if we could not have this discussion.”

She didn’t listen, instead continuing. “I’m not judging, I get it. The drive and the power are attractive qualities.” Her brows furrowed as her mouth scrunched. “My only question is, what’s the end goal?”

“The end goal?”

“You don’t seem like the FLOTUS type.”

“Neither do you.”

“I’m not and I can tell you that this job is built for someone who is not me.” Peggy's eyes flickered to the wall adorned with portraits of past presidents. “I often find myself wondering how many women felt the same way I do. Trapped because of who they married. What the former first ladies gave up so the men could have all the glory.”

“Lucky for me, there is no man.” Rio half heartedly chuckled. “Kind of the whole point.”

“But the same issue still stands, does it not?” Peggy zeroed in on her. “She’s about to be president and you’re not her wife. And if you were, you’d be relegated to the same fate as all the rest of us. Unless of course it’s just a fling, in which case I understand that too.”

Rio swallowed her discomfort, crossing her arms in order to shield herself. “No, it's not a fling.”

Peggy wasn’t even being malicious, just genuinely trying to understand. “So then, what is the end goal?”

“You have a lot of interest in a total stranger, huh?”

“I told you, I’m bored.” She tilted her head. “And detoxing from a drug habit isn’t fun, I have to make my own entertainment. Now, the end goal?”

Rio shrugged, the explanation now feeling empty. “Enjoy the time we have and go our separate ways after the inauguration…?”

“But you said it wasn’t a fling.”

“It’s not.”

“Sounds like one.”

“It’s the responsible thing to do.”

Peggy scoffed. “Oh, I’m so fucking sick of duties and responsibilities. This place is a fucking prision, breeding misery everywhere you go.”

“You’re gonna be a riot in rehab.”

“You’re telling me that you’re in a real relationship, one where I presume you love one another, and you’re ending it for what? Matters of fucking state? That is bleak.”

“I’m not making Agatha give up her dream just for me.”

“Have you asked her to?”

“No.”

“Has she asked you to give up your career?”

“No, of course not.”

Peggy dryly chuckled. “Sounds like she actually cares about you then.”

“She does.” Rio knew she did, without hesitation.

“Then my god, do something!” Peggy’s hands, fidgeting with the ribbon, nearly tore the fabric.

“You’re too invested in this.”

“You’re not invested enough.” She shot back. “I love Steve, but if I could go back in time and ask him not to run, I would.”

“You’d ask him to give that up for you?”

“If it came down to me or the presidency…” She reasoned. “He’s choosing me now, isn’t he? I supported him on the trail and through his term, and I’m proud of him. Unbelievably proud, actually. But it has cost me too much. Love shouldn’t break you down, it shouldn’t make you suffer.” Peggy took a step back. “If Agatha asked you to quit, would you do it?”

Rio didn’t answer, because she already knew.

Yes.

Peggy read her, quite flawlessly actually. “Thought so. And what about her? Would Agatha give it all up for you?”

And Rio had a suspicion.

Yes.

Peggy cocked her head, not judging but surmising. “So then, what the fuck is the end goal?”

“I already told you-”

“I know we don’t know one another that well, but let’s not bullshit, okay?”

“I don’t want to make Agatha give anything up. I don’t want to be her downfall, I don’t want to be her-”

“Her me?” Peggy finished for her. “Don’t want to be the woman who took down a president, I get it. But what will your silence cost you, hm?”

Everything.

“Have you ever considered that her dream has changed?” The first lady questioned. “Have you considered that you’ve changed her dream?”

If Agatha’s dream had changed, it still wouldn’t discount the fact that she hadn’t told Rio as much. She hadn’t differed from their agreement—

Besides elongating the timeline.

But that wasn’t Agatha asking her to be her first lady, or run away, or accept a permanent position on staff.

She hadn’t proposed any of those options, even though Rio would’ve accepted any of them.

Fuck, she’d barely admitted that to herself, how could she even begin to admit it to Agatha? Admit that maybe her dream had changed too.

That the career she’d fought for years to get, couldn’t even begin to compare to a life with Agatha.

She’d give it all up, for her. Just to have her. Just to keep her.

Rio couldn’t stand the thought of being Agatha’s ex, a chapter to close and move on from. Inversely, it made her sick to think of the scrutiny and the backlash Agatha would face for screwing her staffer.

At the end of the day, Rio was a liability.

“Rio?” Jen’s voice carried, footsteps following along until she appeared at the end of the hall. “Oh, Agatha’s asking for you.” She tilted her head to acknowledge Peggy. “Madam first lady.”

Peggy sighed, giving a tired smile. “Good to see you Jennifer.”

“If you two are done here…?” Jen looked between the two, trying to piece together what they could have in common that would cause a conversation.

“By all means, we were just discussing whether the garland should be real or synthetic.” Peggy unwound the ribbon, dismissing them both with her hands. “It was lovely to meet you, Rio.”

She nodded. “You too, Peggy.”

“I hope everything works out.”

“Thanks.” Rio spoke before letting her legs carry her towards their destination, her heart pounding erratically.

Jen fell in step next to her. “What was that about?”

“Guess I just have a knack for décor.” She lied, omitting eye contact.

“Please tell me you went with the real garland, synthetic looks tacky.”

“Maybe you should be first lady, Jen.”

“Oh, I’d fucking kill it.”

“Yeah,” Rio’s voice wavered. “Wish I could say the same.”

Chapter Text

The night of the 23rd, Agatha hopped into her awaiting towncar. She’d just left a holiday party/fundraiser for the democratic party. The champagne was awful, the company even worse. But this was her life and she had made her own bed, so she grinned and bared it, even if she missed Rio. She felt stupid, she’d see Rio in a few hours to fly to Iowa, but she couldn’t justify bringing her to this. The only who made the cut was, unfortunately, Wanda. Jen and Alice were already at Jen’s parents for the holidays, so was William, so Wanda it was.

They sat in silence in the car, both still dressed in evening attire. Agatha was idly twirling her ankle while looking out the window, Wanda was tapping on her phone before locking it. The screen went black as Wanda spoke, “The director of the CIA seems sharp, smart.” and turned her head towards Agatha.

“Valentina Allegra de Fucking whatever?” She chuckled, “Oh, that woman is a narcissist.”

“How can you tell?”

“I may not be a full blown narcissist, but I’ve spent enough of my life chasing the glory to recognize when someone else is doing the same. Hell, I was raised by one.”

“You’ve spent half a century on your goal and yet, you’re still seeing Rio?” Wanda’s features crinkled, all-knowing glint in green eyes. “At least Valentina isn’t fucking her subordinate.”

“Okay, first things first.” Agatha barked, suddenly very protective over her relationship. “You don’t get to judge me or Rio considering what happened months ago in Michigan between us. Two, we don’t know who Valentina is fucking. Sure she has a husband, but the way her assistant looked at her? I know lesbianism when I see it.”

“You said it would stay on the campaign trail, Agatha.” Wanda’s voice was cold. “Your inauguration is three weeks away, and you’re choosing a girl over our lives? This administration will be doomed before your first hundred days in office, and you want to know what happens? Jen, Alice, William, me– we’re all fucked because of you.”

“Cry me a fucking river, Clifford.” Agatha scoffed, no longer looking at the woman sitting next to her. “You’ll survive.”

“If you don’t end things, I’ll–”

Agatha groaned, “You’ll what?” And spun around to burrow her glare into Wanda’s person. “What will you do? Because as much as you hate to admit it, all of you would be nowhere without me. I’m the reason all of you are here today, and if I want to fuck Rio then it’s my god given right as a fucking American! What you don’t seem to understand, Wanda, is that you have no power. Yours is dependent on mine. So what will you do? Go to the press and implode your own career? Be remembered as the whistleblower who’s bitter because the president decided not to fuck her? What? Please, tell me, what you will do!”

Agatha didn’t ask for much in this world, all she wanted was the presidency and Rio. She had both, she wasn’t going to let one slip away, especially when she had lost them both before. Why couldn’t she just have those two things? Was that too much to ask?

Wanda didn't answer, her jaw clenched as she looked forward, crossing her arms. Agatha lowly chuckled, “That’s what I thought.”

Once the car dropped her off at her place, she hauled ass to get changed and grab her bags. She wasn’t exactly stoked about Iowa, but if it meant a holiday spent with Rio, being lazy and curled up around fire, yeah she’d go to fucking Iowa. Kate pulled up in a black SUV, honking a few times. Contrary to popular belief, presidents and vice presidents could refuse the protection of the secret service. It was generally frowned upon, but when it came to their private lives, they couldn’t exactly be forced to accept a bunch of armed men trailing around. So Agatha taking Kate along was actually very nice of her, she was being cooperative if she really thought about it.

Agatha climbed in the back upon noticing a figure in the front seat, oh right, the girlfriend. She didn’t care for meeting new people, but whatever got her to Rio, she supposed. Kate loaded the last of Agatha’s luggage before climbing into the driver’s seat, motioning next to her whale looking back at Agatha.

“Ma’am, Yelena.” She beamed, then looked at the platinum blonde in the passenger's seat. “Baby, this is Agatha.”

The woman craned around the seat, a goofy smile plastered across her face. “Hi!”

Oh fuck, they were both perky?

Yelena continued to speak even though Agatha hadn’t said anything back, “Kate has told me a lot about you.” A heavy eastern European accent coating her words. “But I doubt you are as scary as she makes you seem.”

Agatha blinked. “Kate never told me you were Russian.”

Kate threw the car into drive. “Yeah, I didn’t want you threatening to deport her because I pissed you off.”

“I wouldn’t–”

Kate looked at her in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised as if to say Really?

“Okay, but I wouldn’t actually do it!”

“See?” Yelena chirped, slumping back into her seat. “Not so scary.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, ignoring the lovebirds up front as they drove to the tarmac. The way Kate held Yelena’s hand with the one not on the steering wheel, the googly eyes, the soft grins. Fucking nauseating.

They got to Air Force Two, Rio already waiting near the steps. Agatha let Kate handle all the bags, because well, not her job quite frankly. She couldn’t look overeager, she couldn’t run and jump into Rio’s arms. Though they were purposely traveling under the cover of night, she never knew if there was a camera somewhere that could take her down. So she simply walked over to Rio, leaving some distance between them.

“Hi.”

Rio gave a soft grin. “Hi.”

“Yeah, I got the fucking bags!” Kate grumbled.

Yelena climbed out of the car, peering at the trunk and her girlfriend. “Thank you, milaya.”

Agatha ignored them, as she would for the proceeding four days, and started up the stairs. Rio followed after, immediately grabbing Agatha’s wrist and pulling her to the nearest seat available. That ended with her in Rio’s lap as her girlfriend reached a hand to cup her neck, pulling her down into a kiss. Agatha smiled into it, grabbing Rio back and pressing her lips more firmly.

“Missed you.” Rio breathed out before reconnecting for more.

“It’s been a day.” She snorted, letting Rio deepen the kiss.

Rio didn’t justify the logic with an actual answer, just continued to move her mouth against Agatha’s. It wasn’t even desperate in a sexual way, more so in a longing way. As if going twenty-fours hours without Agatha had physically pained her.

A throat cleared and they broke apart, Agatha’s brain struggling to switch gears when it didn’t want to. Kate had been the one to make the sound, standing in an oversized purple hoodie and jeans. Yelena stood next to her, wearing a black tank top and matching pants, holding her girlfriend's hand and stifling a giggle.

“We’re not even in the air.” Kate cocked her head.

“Oh,” Agatha pursed her lips in a dismissive manner. “We’ve already joined the mile high club.”

Kate’s face twisted. “You two are sick.”

“I think it is sweet.” Yelena spoke, looking at Kate. “They are like, um….” She thought for a minute. “I do not have the English translation, because it is a stupid language and I do not respect it. But, lyubovnyy tuman…?”

Kate blinked and buffered. “The fog of love.”

“Yes, that.” Yelena nodded. “They are foggy with love.”

“You know Russian?” Agatha tilted her head.

Kate shrugged and sat down, bringing Yelena with her. “You know Spanish.”

Agatha did not appreciate the inundation that she was the same as a twenty-something, all lovey and soft for her partner. Agatha was not soft, she was almost the leader of the free world. Rio’s hand snaked around her waist, holding her and giving her googly eyes. “She got you there, mi vida.”

Agatha rolled her eyes, faintly chuckling. “Callarse la boca.”

“Mmmh, say it again.” The woman beneath her teased.

“Foggy.” Yelena murmured.

Rio finally relaxed at Yelena’s comment, changing the topic. “Where does the travel log think you’re going?”

“Iowa.” Agatha stated. “For an Iowa democrats holiday soirée.”

“What is so special about this Iowa?” Yelena tilted her head curiously. “I googled it and it does not seem important.”

“It’s where I grew up.” Rio explained before pointing to Yelena’s exposed arms. “It’s gonna be cold, did you bring a jacket?”

“I am Russian.” Yelena replied, “I do not get cold.”

“She’ll steal something from me.” Kate muttered.

“I do not get cold!” Yelena insisted.

“Sure.” Kate said, unconvinced.

An hour later and they were almost in Iowa, Rio and Kate were up front, talking about something that neither Agatha nor Yelena cared about. She found herself playing chess with the blonde near the back of the jet, if only to kill the time.

“Check.” Yelena spoke, now dawning her girlfriend’s hoodie because of the cabin’s AC.

Agatha sighed. “Fuck.”

“You are about to lead this country and you cannot beat me?”

“It’s only check.” She said, analyzing the board.

“Still, you should be better than me, no?”

Agatha rolled her shoulders back. “And what is it that you do for work, Yelena?”

“I am a counselor. Mostly intrafamilial trauma.”

“Oh, went with a real happy career path then.”

“My childhood was not happy, so I decided to study why I felt the way I did.”

“You didn’t just push that shit down?”

“I did, but it did not serve me in the end.” Yelena briefly looked at Kate. “I was a mess when we met, very distant.”

“So the love of a good woman saved you?” Agatha cackled, moving her piece across the board.

“No, of course not.” Yelena picked up her piece. “Only you can do the work, but support is vital.”

“I don’t like therapists.” Agatha huffed. “They’re shifty, the mindgames, the tactics…”

“Sometimes distraction helps.”

“The kind of therapy I had wasn’t exactly approved by the American Psychological Association, if you catch my drift.”

“I do not.” Yelena deadpanned. “What was your childhood like?”

She studied her next move rather than looking at the woman. “Bad.”

“How so?”

“My father was absent and my mother was abusive.” Agatha spoke, picking up and placing down her queen. “And I’m only telling you this because it’d be very stupid of you to blab.”

“You are distant too.” Yelena observed. “You push it all down.”

“Play the game.”

Yelena made a move on the board, a minor one. “Does it not interfere with your relationship?”

“Nope.” She grit out, not taking her eyes off the game.

“So you do not feel insecure in your attachment? Or the need to deflect your true emotions out of a fear of Rio not accepting them? You can communicate your wants and needs in a healthy manner?"

“What the fuck, dude?” Agatha looked up, sprawling out her hands. “Be cool.”

“And there is the deflection.”

Agatha inhaled a frustrated breath. “It doesn’t matter, it’s a temporary thing.”

“But the love fog–”

“Yelena.”

“It sounds like you are ignoring the underlying issue of what you want with the excuse of your relationship having an ending date.”

“It’s end date.”

“English is my fourth language, give me a break.” Yelena moved her pawn one space over, elongating her victory. “And you are not answering my questions.”

“Okay. Yes, I feel secure. No, I don’t deflect. Yes, I communicate. Happy?”

“You are pushing down again.”

“Play the fucking game!”

“My dad used to say something–”

“Of fucking course he did.”

“He is meathead, but he has his moments. You cannot be surprised when you have a boot on your car and it makes it harder to drive.”

“What?”

“It sounds better in Russian. Better flow. But the point stays the same, you’re trying to drive around with a boot on your tire and wondering why you are not getting anywhere.” Yelena moved one more piece. “Checkmate.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Agatha pouted, “And there’s no boot.”

“Your silence is the boot. Your relationship is the car. You will not get anywhere with your current situation.”

Rio walked over with a nervous smile. “We’re about to land.”

“Okay,” Agatha smiled back. “We’re done here anyway.”

“Yes, I beat the president in a game of chess. Perhaps I should run the government.”

Agatha didn’t respond, biding her time until they landed. After a short drive to who fucking knows where, Rio pulled off a main road and onto a dirt one, essentially driving through the middle of the woods.

“No….” Agatha petered off as she took in just how remote this vacation was about to be, she was not built for the outdoors.

“Yup.” Rio stated, turning the wheel again and pulling onto a gravel driveway. The house was about a mile up, white with a wrap around porch.

“It looks like the houses in American movies! Like the Metal Magnolias!” Yelena preened, nose pressed against the glass of the window in the backseat. “I always wanted a house like this.”

“Steel Magnolias, baby.” Kate gently corrected. “It’s…quaint.”

“Okay, rich kid.” Rio shot back. “It’s not a penthouse in New York but it’s still nice.”

After unloading everything, they walked in, and Agatha tried really hard to keep her face neutral. She did. But everything was so…compact?

The kitchen fed into the living room, which fed into the hallway, which fed into the staircase. She dropped her genuine leather overnight bag, peering around. The weathered floral wallpaper and scratched hardwood flooring did have a certain cozy ambience. The photos packed on the walls, Rio as a kid, her mom and dad smiling. There was one Agatha locked onto, Rio couldn’t have been older than ten, a cheesy grin flashing to the camera. Her hair was in a mangled braid, hockey uniform askew, and front tooth missing. Her father was holding her up, as if to show off her bravery after a game. She assumed her mom had taken the photo, hence her absence in the picture.

Agatha stared a beat longer than she should have, because she didn’t have any childhood memories like that. Ones taken to remember a happy moment, ones with proud parents.

“Baby?” Rio’s voice pulled her out of her reverie. “You okay?”

Agatha whipped around, three women all looking at her. “Yeah, just, the frame needs dusting I think.”

Rio’s eyes flickered with recognition. “Probably.”

“So where do we go?” Yelena asked, slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“Um, there’s a loft in the barn. It’s heated, furnished, and has working plumbing. Figured you’d guys want some privacy.” Rio explained.

“Works for me.” Kate said, picking up her own bag and then taking Yelena’s for her. “Goodnight.”

It was almost one in the morning, so any holiday festivities would have to wait. Once Kate and Yelena were gone, Rio picked up her and Agatha’s bags and started for the stairs. “C’mon.”

Agatha’s head was on a swivel as she followed, taking in every aspect. The home was worn and obviously well loved. There were knick knacks and scuff marks, it was clear that unlike any home Agatha had lived, people actually lived here. A concept foreign to her. Agatha had houses throughout her life, this place was a home.

The top floor had four doors, a bathroom, and three bedrooms. Rio pointed to different ones as they walked down the hall.

“That one was my parents, which I figured we probably shouldn’t sleep in for obvious reasons.” Rio chuckled. “That one was mine, and this one is the guest room.”

She stopped in front of the last door, jimmying the tarnished knob until the door creaked open. She allowed Agatha to walk in first, waiting in the doorway as Agatha took in the space. It was simple, a bed with a wooden frame, covered with a knitted blue afghan. Two end tables, a woven rug, and a dresser. Very small.

Not that it mattered. She had expected it to be, as Kate so eloquently put it, quaint. She was here, and away from DC, and with Rio. Nothing else was important.

“What do you think?” Rio anxiously questioned, placing their bags in the corner, hands in her pockets like she was afraid of Agatha’s answer.

“It’s perfect.” She responded, approaching her girlfriend and cradling her face. “Very rustic.”

Rio smirked. “You’re trying so hard to be nice right now, aren’t you?”