Favors
The doorbell rang. Ezri. It was funny, really, how often she rang the bell or knocked here, but not at other places, like Charlie’s for parties. Frankly, she probably felt that she was responsible for what she walked into, and knew that there was plenty here she might not want to walk into.
“Hey,” said Clara.
“Am I interrupting?”
“No, no, come in.” Holding the door open, but Ezri hesitated.
“Do you want to go for a walk?”
Which meant she wanted her alone. “Sure. Sure, let me just—” She found her phone where she’d left it on the couch and sent Jen, upstairs, a message, tucked the phone in her pocket, and shut the door behind them. They started walking. “What’s up?”
She suspected that it had something to do with Ezri’s… new prospect. More than a prospect; she knew that by the way they looked at each other. It had been nearly three weeks since they’d moved in together, and Ezri had held firm on the due process, because she was Ezri, but…
Ezri twined their fingers together, and a few paces later said, “I came to ask about a favor.”
“Anything.”
Ezri smiled a little, but there was the you don’t know what I’m asking for in it, and Clara thought you don’t know how I much I mean that. Still, she was curious what she'd just agreed to, at least.
“Well,” said Ezri finally, “Lalia and I have been drafting the Ownership contract. As is normal.”
Clara rolled her eyes. She didn’t need the as is normal. It was just Ezri’s way of trying to brush off how attached she was. “Okay.”
“One of the clauses being, if something were to happen—ending the dynamic in something other than release or sale. My death, what have you.”
Ah. Her heart rate picking up a little. “Yeah?” An attached document to her contract with Jen, an amendment, that if she died, Clara would go to Ezri. Of course, in reverse…
“And if it were… to happen, I’d want you to take her.”
“Me,” she echoed, confused enough to stop walking for a moment, though Ezri's grip on her hand tugged her along without trying to.
“You.”
“Oh." That was why Ezri wanted her alone. "But I’m not…”
“I know.”
“I’m an—occasional Top, not an Owner.”
“I know.”
“I don’t do power dynamics on that side.”
“I know.”
Well, she could only rephrase that so many ways. “Why me?” Which meant, Why not Jen? Or, a still strange but less strange scenario, even both of them.
“Exactly because slave is your main role. You understand exactly what she would need in that scenario. And you'd prioritize that. But… you’ve also got enough Switch in you that I think you could do it."
Her hesitant questions hadn’t meant no. And in a way she already knew what Ezri meant. And she liked Lalia, if she didn’t know her thoroughly, she knew she would—she could certainly think of enough things she’d like to do with—to—the girl if she had her for an afternoon, maybe a weekend—but that wasn’t the point. She was sweet, as bookish and clever as Ezri’s tastes could want, obviously attentive and dutiful—she cared. Clara saw no world in which the two didn’t sign that contract.
Did she want to be on the potential far side of it?
Want was a strong word. Willing was easy. Was she the best person for it? She was clearly Ezri’s top choice. And she had to admit to a feeling of protectiveness—at first of Ezri—it was strange when your best friend met their soulmate, and stranger yet when your last ex met their soulmate—but now, of both of them.
“I’ll have to talk to Jen,” she said.
“Of course. If you want me to talk to her, first or later, I will.”
Clara shook her head. She didn’t imagine this being a long conversation. Jen would say yes, for Ezri, and she knew that. The three seemed to trade strange debts—a convention hotel room, dinner out and dinner made in, catsitting and a Netflix password, a carpool here, a newly made flogger or a book loan there, a scene and a clean house, the dungeon for a night or Christmas at Ezri’s parents', and of course, Clara herself. But they all always owed each other something—even if it was their sanity—and this was just another favor in the grand scheme of it. Lalia was in that cycle now.
“Do me one more favor,” Ezri said, running a thumb over the back of her hand, “and don’t mention it yet. Tell Jen the same. She’d be… overwhelmed.”
“Of course.”
And truly, they hadn’t said much, but there wasn’t much else to be said. She’d covered it quickly. Anything. The silence between them was easy, walking back towards the house in no hurry, their hands swinging a little between them.
“Does she make you happy?”
Ezri laughed, in a way that told her it was a dumb question, which was good—she smiled to hear the sound. “Yes. Happier than I’ve ever been.” She squeezed her hand. Clara squeezed back. Maybe the words should’ve hurt, but they weren’t meant to, and they didn’t, at this point. And the answer was obvious. She just wanted to hear it one more time, for the same reason she smiled when Ezri laughed at the question.
“And you’re still head over heels?”
“Yes.” There was that laugh again. She gave her a look. “Are you still in love with Jen?” she asked, teasing.
Clara grinned at her. “More every day.”
“Then I think we both finally managed to do something right.”