series ft. bees
Yang sighed as she tried and failed again to catch Blake’s attention. She was working on the last book in her series and was determined to get the ending just right. Blake had holed herself up in the office in the morning with a large tumbler of tea, with a simple “Good morning” to her and Weiss. Ruby was out with Penny, filming the process of whatever their latest invention was, so she hadn’t come home last night, and thus the house was much quieter than usual without her machinery going off at odd times or gods forbid, exploding.
Ruby liked to insist that it only happened twice, but that was twice too many and Wiess had insisted she and Penny move their workshop over to Penny’s house.
Yang made her way over to the kitchen, rummaging through the pantry and fridge to see what she could make that was filling but also mess-free. If she somehow managed to get Blake to eat today, which would be a miracle in it of itself, Blake would most likely crucify her if she made a mess of her laptop. Normally it wouldn’t be much of a problem, but knowing Blake, anything larger or messier than bite-sized finger foods would most likely require too much of her attention and she’d drop it on her laptop or something equally as damning, and lose her train of focus or worse yet--her work.
She let out a quiet “yes sir!” when she found a carton of eggs and was struck with inspiration. Yang carefully placed the eggs on the counter next to the refrigerator and rummaged around for a bit more, moving stuff around the shelves, peaking in containers for the dip she knew should be in one of these somewhere, maybe in the last yogurt container-
“Yes! This will go nicely, now for a limeade or some type of drink…”
Yang scrunched her face for a second before shrugging and going back into the fridge and squatting down, opening one of the bottom drawers and taking out a couple of limes and placing them on the counter. She closed the fridge and stood back up, hearing her back pop and wincing slightly, imagining how Blake was feeling. Yang had been moving around quite a bit today, and she was still a little still after a small amount of time of inactivity, so Blake having spent hours frantically typing and combing over her manuscript over and over-
She turned towards the island and bent to shuffle through the pots and pans, doing her best to stay quiet, which was hard since all their pots were precariously stacked on top of each other. Yang went for the second smallest pot they had, flinching when the smaller pot slipped out of her reach and clattered against the other pots for what seemed like forever before it stopped. She peeked over the island into the office, but it didn’t look like Blake had moved at all.
She filled it with water and quietly hummed to herself, swaying gently back and forth on her feet as she set the water to boil, dropping in her eggs. Six should do the trick. Blake was going to be hungry, and Yang couldn’t remember for the life of her if Blake had eaten breakfast or not that morning before setting herself up in her office. Wiess had cast a sympathetic glance at the closed office door before grabbing her purse and heading out for the day. She would have rather stayed home and helped Yang keep an eye on Blake, but she needed to go to her office in person, some intern had royally fucked up and now Wiess needed to redo a major project before things truly went down in flames.
Yang turned her attention back to the stove when she heard the water boiling, and went to grab a bowl plate, not trusting the eggs to not roll away the second she let go of them. She drained the water and let the eggs cool a bit while she set up the plate and made the limeade. She squeezed the limes into a cup and added water and a small spoonful of sugar before mixing it all together. Yang started singing softly under her breath while she freed the eggs from their little cages of a shell and cut them in halves and added a dollop of dip on them and then placed them on the plate.
She grabbed the cup and bowl plate and made her way over to the office, making sure to knock, even though she knew there was a very little chance of Blake looking up.
She managed to get the door open while only spilling a little bit of the drink and quietly made her way around the desk while trying to find an open spot within Blake’s reach that was open where she could put the food. Finding one on her left, she gently put the plate down, making sure not to let any of the eggs slide out, and then with her newly freed hand, moved a couple of papers away to keep from staining them with the drink.
She had read the previous books in Blake’s series and was looking forward to finding out what happened to the protagonist in the last book, as the previous one had not ended on the best of notes. Blake had always told her she could ask and she’d let her read the manuscript, but Yang always turned her down, saying “Spoilers, Belladonna!” and Blake would laugh and give her this look that almost made Yang wish for more, wish for a story to be written about them, about their feelings, to somehow take the words Yang couldn’t bring herself to say and immortalize them on paper.
She smiled at Blake with uncensored adoration, holding the woman before her in the highest regard.
Yang was so lost in thought she didn’t notice Blake snap out of her trance when she reached for her papers and instead found her drink. Blake looked at Yang and knew full well what thoughts were running through her best friend’s head. Or she liked to convince herself she did.
She had a story saved on her computer, a story she’d written of the both of them, though she was pretty sure she’d be the only one who’d ever read it. How she dreamed of taking the words she wrote for herself, for others, and saying them to the one who deserved that and so much more, much more than could be expressed with saying that were more often than not, overused.
Blake moved to stand and startled Yang out of her trance, just in time to grab her arm and help her regain her balance that’d she’d lost after sitting for so long, and one of her legs was all pins and needles to make things worse.
“I think I’m done with it Yang, no need to worry.”
Yang stared at her, thoughts running through her eyes, much too fast for Blake to try to decipher.
Yang grinned and pushed the plate of eggs towards her.
“Here. I know you’re hungry, but I wasn’t sure how hungry, and I didn’t want something too messy, though now that I think about it, the dip might have been a bit much, but I’m glad.”
“Glad?”
“Well, now that you’re finished writing, you can eat a full meal! And stretch, maybe let me give you a massage? You cannot possibly be comfortable after sitting ramrod straight for hours Blake. My back hurt from watching you!”
Yang internally winced at how her mouth kept moving, kept speaking, why, why, why on remnant were words still coming out of her mouth?
Blake nodded and popped an egg half into her mouth, a delightful look passing over her face as the dip provided a nice punch in contrast to the soft egg. She slid her hand into Yang’s and lead her out towards the living room and onto the couch.
“You owe me a massage now, Xiao Long, I hope you’re ready for that!”
Yang grinned and deftly moved Blake’s hair off of her shoulders as she began working on the tense muscles the woman had developed over the day.
One day, she’d remember that day, and laugh at the absurdity of it all. She’d turn to Blake sitting next to her, working on a rough draft of the second book in a series—though this time it was their series—and recall the memory with her and they’d both laugh at the cluelessness of their previous selves.
If Yang could wait a bit longer, she’d get her series alright. Her series about her and the love of her life—written by the love of all her lives.