Forever
Things muddled along somehow.
Ezri pined.
Clara couldn't stand it. She had little tolerance for watching people long for something that was right fucking in front of them, throwing themselves at them, without taking it. She was aware that when she had been the object in question, there was an inherently selfish aspect to it; but now she felt more righteous than ever.
Lalia pined.
Evidently feeling powerless after a few days of rough conversations, she kept her head down and threw herself into her actual training, which served as a poor distraction from the even more personal side of her relationship with Ezri. She seemed melancholy, yet continued to flourish—maybe moreso, in a way. Focused. If Ezri made a passing mention of an extra subject that might be useful, Lalia had learned the basics and Clara would find her shyly teaching it to the other trainees before Ezri had turned around again, a fact that, among others, Ezri seemed to have come to quietly count on.
They'd make a good team, in Clara's opinion, if Ezri could stop being an idiot.
...
Jen came with her one day, to visit Ezri. She was also running low on patience for Ezri's nonexistent predicament, but had the luxury of generally choosing avoidance.
Today, though, she seemed to be choosing confrontation. Westley had already been sold to their long time, now impressed crush, so given that sales were happening and that Ezri was absolutely right and should not keep one of the trainees again, Jen arrived armed with a very helpful list of potential takers for Lalia.
Clara didn't get to hear the conversation, though, off supervising Abigail's bootblacking, unfortunately out of earshot.
Not that Jen seemed interested in closing the door, or being particularly quiet. (Jen was never particularly quiet.)
After Ezri had made her lower your volume gesture she normally reserved for migraines a second time, Jen asked: "What? I thought the trainees got 'full transparency' about their prospects?"
"Your point has been made, Jenevieve," Ezri ground out. "And sit down." Jen had a way of standing up when she thought she was saying something important, and she thought that everything she had to say was important. And right now, she was thinking it was important right next to Ezri's wide open office door.
Jen did not sit down, but leant on Ezri's desk as a compromise.
"I've accepted my feelings. That doesn't mean I have to act on them. Not all of us propose four hours after meeting."
"Yes, now we've moved from the accepting the feelings to the accepting the actions stage."
"I don't—" She sighed.
"No, you don't accept the actions, which is the problem."
"You realize that some people have a thinking stage in the middle there? This is the stage I skipped with Clara. Why not just let me think without brandishing emotionally charged options?"
"Because this time you're taking is doing damage. There's a person on the other side of this equation who's watching you take weeks to decide if you give a shit about her."
"I do give a shit about her. That's not up for debate here."
"Then act like it."
"I am deciding," Ezri reminded her, "what the best way to show that is." Jen started to speak again, but Ezri cut her off: "I want her to be happy. I am deciding which path I think will make her most happy. That's what I do for all of them. What is so wrong with that?"
"Westley told you what they wanted. You signed the papers the next day. How hard was that? Lalia's told you what she wants. Why does that take weeks?"
"Westley did tell me what they wanted. And then I thought about it on their behalf—this was primarily an Internet friend, do they have the same chemistry in real life? Are they who they say they are? Are they a good long term match? Is there any exploitative element to the fact they confessed their interest now? What about the logistics? Do I really feel good about this? And I decided Westley was right."
"Yes. Overnight."
"And," Ezri continued, "in Lalia's case, I am too aware of my personal bias to trust my conclusions so quickly."
"You're always biased," Jen snapped. "You're biased by the trainees. You're biased based on their maybe Owner's demographics and first impression and what they have to offer you. Don't tell me you felt good about selling me Clara. You had pressure on you. You had me offering you anything you wanted. You were biased because I'm also White and queer and a woman and your age. There's always bias. You need weeks to decide for Lalia just because you think she's cute, you should've thought for Westley for two days."
Ezri was quiet. "It is more than cute," she said finally.
Jen just looked at her. "Weeks more than cute?" she asked finally.
Ezri sighed. "Evidently."
They were quiet.
"Well, great," said Jen. "Have fun deliberating." She swept out, and nearly ran straight into Lalia. Ah. Apparently not everyone was out of earshot.
Seizing the opportunity, she told her, "Eavesdropping is a terrible habit," and pulled her into the nearest empty room with an open door and shut it while Lalia was still frozen with a deer in the headlights expression.
"Right, well, here's the thing. Ezri's being an idiot and is in denial about any change to her status quo as usual. She has no ability to just say yes and can overthink almost anything she wants until it becomes somehow unethical. Complicated by the fact she's been burned by this exact situation before. All you need to do is give her a push and tell her the status quo has already been changed either way because of her feelings and that you're not Clara and that she's not, like, a cradle robber or whatever. Any questions?"
Lalia made several confused noises. Then, "Have—have we met?"
"Oh, Jesus Christ." Jen got the door, gave her another pull into the hall, and then another push into Ezri's office. "You sit down," she told Ezri, who had stood up in alarm. "Sit," she told Lalia, who froze again, still standing. Hmm. Possibly not allowed to sit. Ezri, at least, sat, if also confused and cautious.
"All right. One more time. Both of you—" gesturing between them "—are crazy about each other. She—" gesture at Ezri "—needs you—" gesture at Lalia "—to tell her this is a safe and ethical decision, and she—" add on gesture at Lalia "—needs you—" gesture at Ezri "—to realize you have the power here and make up your fucking mind. Have fun!" She closed the door somewhat loudly behind her.
Ezri let out a breath in the quiet after the flurry. "She's right," she admitted. "As usual, her methods are questionable—" she gave a perfunctory push to her office door, which, apparently expectedly, did not open "—but her heart's in the right place."
"... Does she lock you in here often?"
"I mean, I don't know about often." She stood. "Come here."
Lalia approached with yet more caution. Ezri held both of her hands in hers. "I—this is—so—the thing is—" Lalia squeezed her hands. She kind of loved her for it. "I don't want you to leave, either. I... I want you to stay here. With me. Like for a consideration contract. And then, maybe—probably—I'd like to own you forever. I mean, if you want," she said quickly. And then, "God, that was so dramatic. What I mean is—what I really want is—" she traced her throat, where a collar would sit "—you."
Lalia smiled, flustered but thrilled. "I'd like that."
"Really? Not just because we're locked in here?"
"Really."
"I don't want you to feel pressured."
"I don't."
"You have options." She reached towards her desk. "I do have this folder of people who—"
"You can get rid of it."
"Really?"
"Really."
Ezri laughed. Relief started to set in. She stroked Lalia's cheek. "May I kiss you?"
"I think that would be reasonable."
So she did. Then, beaming, knocked on the inside of her office door.
"—Are you engaged yet?"
"Will you settle for consideration contract?" Ezri called back through the door.
"Hmm."
"Jenevieve."
"Fine." The door opened. Lalia still hadn't figured out how it had locked.
"Congratulations," Jen said to Ezri.
"Fuck you," Ezri said politely.
"Congratulations," Jen said to Lalia, and held out her hand. "I'm Jen, by the way."
Lalia shook it carefully, as if she expected to be shocked. "I... put that together."
"Excellent."
Clara materialized next to her. God only knew where the other trainees were. She gave Ezri a bittersweet smile.
"And were you in on this?" Ezri asked her.
"Well, seems I've successfully made myself obsolete," Clara said blithely in lieu of an answer. "Pity, that."
Ezri rolled her eyes. "Don't get too excited. We still have two trainees not spoken for."
...
But Fiona got sold to Natasha and Zack within days, having hit it off with them at the party the trainees had gotten to serve at. Then Abigail.
And, all trainees spoken for, Clara got to go home and largely stay there.
So they were alone, at the table, when they signed the—still painstakingly drafted—consideration contract. Ezri first, then Lalia. She set the pen down and looked at the papers in wonder.
Ezri took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. "Mine."
"Yours." Lalia shifted to face her properly.
"At least for now. We'll see about..." She traced the end date on the contract.
"I have a pretty good feeling about forever," Lalia said bravely.
Ezri smiled helplessly. She gave her a kiss on the lips, which still made her heart flutter. "Me, too."