She struggled not to care as she watched everyone else leave without her. No matter how many times she was left behind, it never seemed to get any easier, the ache in her chest never weakening. Maybe that was just who she was always going to be: the one on the outside, caring only to never be cared about in return.
Isobel sighed, trying to go back to her work, but the more she strived to focus, the harder doing so seemed to become, the words on her laptop’s screen all blurring together as she read the same sentence over and over, attempting to make progress without success. Somewhere in the back of her mind, the image of the others laughing, enjoying themselves at the bar without her, was slowly forcing its way to the forefront, determined to be acknowledged despite her desire to ignore it, and she was so distracted by the thought that she didn’t realize someone was at her door until it suddenly opened.
Her head snapped up in surprise, and for a moment, her heart forgot that it was supposed to beat at the unexpected sight of Maggie, who she’d watched leave with everyone else just minutes prior. “Forget something?” she asked, feigning a smile, at a loss for why she was back.
“Yeah, actually,” Maggie revealed, sounding a little breathless as she ventured further into the room, like she’d ran all the way there. “You.” This time, Isobel’s heart beat faster instead, as if to compensate for its neglect seconds beforehand. “Want to grab a drink with us?”
Yes, was what Isobel wanted to say. “If you’re sure I won’t kill the mood,” was what came out in its place, and she tried not to wince. She hadn’t wanted to sound desperate, to admit that she’d secretly been waiting weeks, months, for the invite, but almost trying to put Maggie off wasn’t what she’d intended to replace it with.
“I promise you won’t,” Maggie assured her gently, as though she recognized the very real doubt that laced her words, and the warm smile she spoke with was somehow enough to make Isobel believe her wholeheartedly.
“Alright,” she agreed, an uncharacteristically nervous flutter in her stomach. “Just give me a minute.” Despite not wanting to seem eager, she was already logging out of her laptop, work be damned. She could read emails and proposals at any time, but this chance would only come once and never again if she turned it down now.
“I’ll wait,” Maggie said, hands in her pockets as she leaned back against the table across the room. “We can catch up together.” Isobel nodded, drumming her fingers against her desk as her laptop shut down, deliberately pausing even after the screen went black before closing it, almost trying to pretend she wasn’t immediately dropping everything to go with Maggie. She rose to her feet a moment later, gathering what she usually did before going home but slightly faster, loath to hold Maggie up any longer than she needed to, especially when she’d come back here -- and just for her.
Isobel tried not to think about that specific part too much, freeing her coat from its hook and pulling it on. She could sense Maggie watching her, but she oddly didn’t feel rushed; more like she had all the time in the world. Not that she took it, collecting her bag and mindfully switching off her desk lamp before she wandered over to join her.
“Got everything?” Maggie asked, tilting her head slightly as she stood upright again.
Isobel nodded, quickly going over a checklist in her head and finding all the boxes ticked, but even if it did turn out she’d left something behind, it could wait until tomorrow. Nothing was getting in her way after all the lonely evenings she’d lost count of having. “Lead the way,” she instructed, gladly following Maggie out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind them. She didn’t know where the rest of them typically went to drink, and she’d never asked either, not wanting to risk doing something stupid like walking in on them just to make a point.
“So,” she started as they waited for the elevator, “any particular reason for the invite?” They’d spent months upon months never asking her, and as much as she didn’t want to care, she couldn’t help it; she wanted to know what had inspired the sudden change of heart, even if she wasn’t surprised that it had ultimately come from Maggie out of everyone.
“I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, actually,” Maggie admitted, a touch embarrassed it had taken her so long to get around to it. She wasn't normally the shy type, but this particular endeavor had screwed with her nerves in its own special way. “But I thought you probably wouldn’t be interested.” It had always seemed like something beneath Isobel, appearing so much grander and incomparable to the rest of them. While she might have been friendly enough inside the office, who was to say that meant she wanted to spend time with them all outside of it too? Even tonight, when ultimately going back for her, Maggie still hadn’t known which answer she was going to get -- yes, or no -- but she’d finally decided the potential humiliation of being turned down was worth at least trying for the opposite.
“What changed your mind?” Isobel asked, glancing over at her as the elevator doors opened, inviting them inside. She couldn’t pinpoint what she’d said or done to sway them, least of all when she’d started to distance herself again, getting the impression that she was standing just outside of a circle she’d never be able to step into but was too stupid to realize it.
“Well, you know what they say,” Maggie said, briefly freeing a hand from her slacks to press the button for the ground floor, prompting the doors to glide shut a second later. “You miss all the shots you don’t take.” She paused, scowling slightly with a faint sigh. “... And the others wouldn’t stop calling me a chicken.” Their teasing had been just the push she’d needed, stubbornly wanting to prove them wrong as they’d devolved into making actual chicken noises, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to thank them for her success.
Isobel bit into her bottom lip, suppressing a laugh, but the corners of her mouth still curved upward, betraying her amusement. “I mean, it’s not like any of them asked me,” she pointed out, trying to make Maggie feel better by highlighting their hypocrisy, even if she knew it hadn’t been malicious. She suspected they, too, had all thought she’d turn them down, but at least Maggie had been audacious enough to approach her in spite of that.
Maggie shrugged. “They knew I wanted to,” she revealed, almost certain that OA was behind the rest of them knowing. She’d told him, a few times, maybe more, about her interest in inviting Isobel to join them, wondering if anyone would mind, and then if having it be just the two of them would be better or worse, and he’d evidently shared it with the class, leading them to collectively suspect what Isobel, at least, thankfully didn’t seem to.
Isobel quirked an eyebrow, looking over at her just as the elevator stopped. “Oh? How come?” she asked as they stepped out, heading for the stairs down to the lobby. Maggie might have always been the likeliest candidate to invite her, if anyone ever did, but she couldn’t work out why it coming from her was so important that the others appeared to have deliberately avoided doing it themselves. (Oh, she had an idea, of course, vaguely reminded of highschool, when groups would collectively goad a friend into talking to their crush, but the chances of that being the case here were so impossibly far-flung, and yet Isobel still couldn’t help the way her stomach somersaulted at the thought, like she'd stepped over the edge of a cliff. There was always dreaming.)
Maggie chuckled, grinning to herself slightly as they made their way downstairs. “Yeah, sorry, but it’ll take at least a couple drinks to get that answer out of me,” she apologized, hands still in her pockets, never free, hidden just like whatever else she was keeping quiet about.
“Then I guess I'm buying,” Isobel decided, too curious to let the question go unanswered. The lobby was quiet, empty save for the requisite security, their footsteps echoing faintly in-time with each other as they neared its floor.
Maggie scoffed slightly. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said, finding her offer to be just that despite its generosity. “I invited you, so the drinks are on me.” Even if she hadn’t, and even if it had been Isobel’s twelfth time joining them as opposed to her first, that would still be the case if Maggie had a say in it. Isobel did so much unmentioned for them behind the closed doors that guarded her own bosses, and if Maggie could buy her a few rounds, give her the overdue break she deserved from bureau politics and the assholes who punched down, she happily would.
“Just consider them a thank you, then,” Isobel suggested, walking in tandem with her across the lobby. Was it sad? That she almost felt the need to thank someone simply for inviting her to spend time with them? Perhaps, but she tried not to see it that way, knowing that Maggie wouldn’t. She'd only ridicule her for it if she found out she did.
“You don’t need to thank me,” Maggie said, right on cue as they left the building. It was dark out, and Isobel failed to suppress a shiver, chilled by the nighttime air enough for Maggie to notice. She glanced over at her, frowning slightly, almost concerned. “Cold?” She didn’t feel it herself, but Isobel was slimmer than her, all lithe limbs and perfect curves, like the ballerinas that danced in jewelry boxes, and even if she clenched her jaw and pretended she didn’t feel it, the temperature bit at her bones in a way it didn’t Maggie’s.
Isobel smiled wryly at being caught. “Just a little,” she confessed, burying her hands in her coat’s pockets for warmth before they could have a chance to go stiff. For a moment, Maggie stayed quiet as they walked down the street, eyeing her wordlessly, thinking, hesitant, before freeing one of her own hands and reaching an arm around Isobel’s figure. She almost jumped at the contact, heart bruising her ribs as Maggie drew their bodies flush together, rubbing her hand up and down Isobel’s upper arm to try and generate some sort of warmth.
“It’s not far,” she assured her, outwardly pretending to be unfazed, casual, cool, like the air that had given her the same opportunity as stretching and pretending to yawn during a movie. “Anyway, the pleasure’s all mine, and so’s the tab.” Maggie almost wanted to wince at her carelessness, tight-roping dangerously on the verge of what she’d claimed wouldn’t be drawn from her without alcohol, mind and body already uninhibited by Isobel’s own brand of intoxication, inebriating even if only to Maggie.
“If you insist,” Isobel relented, refusing to argue; not now, not tonight, not even if it would never turn serious. She smiled faintly, leaning against Maggie, shoving her ever so gently, just enough to make her move, in a quiet playfulness nobody at work knew she was capable of. “But I’ll get the reason out of you one way or another, Bell.” She’d push until Maggie told her to stop, almost yearning to uncover the unspeakable reason that had made her want to invite Isobel out when nobody else had ever really cared; not without some sort of ulterior motive, not unless they’d thought it would culminate in them sleeping together, not just because they’d wanted to be around her.
Maggie shook her head slightly, a touch afraid deep down, but not enough to say don’t, glad Isobel didn’t know that all it would take was too little space and the low tone that always stirred something in her chest. Two simple elements that were innocuous to most but as good as a truth serum to Maggie, more than enough to make her spill all unbridled, no matter what Isobel asked, and as they turned the corner, shoulder-to-shoulder, both were painfully unaware that the other’s face was colored by more than just the cold.