One
It wasn’t the first time that Agatha came home late, smelling like adrenaline and the faint overbearing scent of dead witches. Sure, she may have specifically promised Rio she’d be home in time to help tend to the garden. It wasn’t necessary that either of them take the time to complete such a menial set of tasks (watering, weeding, deadheading the flowers), given that such a routine could be done with the snap of one witch’s fingers. It especially didn’t take the both of them to do it.
But Rio loves it. It makes her happy. And Agatha loves making Rio happy. So together, they spend the spring evenings tending to the garden that’s just starting to really bloom. Agatha had been a little late the past few nights. It was starting to wear on Rio’s nerves.
“Sorry, my dear, lots of witches out and about these days. I’d swear they were begging for me to find them,” Agatha apologized as she hurried through the garden, shrugging off her flowing coat.
“Ah yes. The horrid indiscretion of daring to be outside when Agatha Harkness is around. How dare they?” Rio teased as she tended to the rows of vegetables.
“I mean honey, come on, what am I supposed to do?
“Agatha, I love you in all of your witch killing glory. But I’ve asked very nicely if you could be home in time to garden. You have long days of dropping bodies. I have long days of picking them up after you. Is it really too much to ask for us to have some dedicated time together?”
Agatha could tell that Rio was annoyed. Not the kind of annoyed she pretended to be when she was really, very endeared. Actually annoyed. Still, Agatha never knew when to let up.
“We have plenty of dedicated time together,” Agatha scoffed as she threw her hands up, “some would say that an eternity bound to each other counts for a lot of dedicated time.”
Rio’s hands stilled from where she was weeding. She looked up at Agatha with steadfast eyes, her mouth set in a straight line.
“You’re being sarcastic. You think you’re being funny, but you’re not. We’ve talked about this. I like to take care of the garden. It relaxes me. I like to spend time with you because I love you. I’ve told you it would mean a lot to me if we could do this one thing together, just this one thing,” she said with a deep exhale, feeling more of an affectionate exhaustion than real animosity.
“I just don’t see why it matters so much,” Agatha retorted.
“Do you actually think that or are you just being stubborn? You’ve been so difficult lately,” Rio chided as she got to her knees, wiping dirt off the legs of her overalls.
The truth was Agatha knew she’d been kind of a horrible wife recently. Okay fine, definitely a petulant asshole. She didn’t really know why. Her and Rio had been doing great. Days filled with the song and dance of bodies fallen, nights spent wrapped together, and the moments in between where Agatha’s heart would dance whenever Rio looked at her. They’d argue, sure. All wives do. They’d even actually fight during some of their more heated moments. Because it was fun and because there’s no reason not to get some scratches in when your wife’s tongue happens to be able to heal wounds. But for all of their dramatics, their marriage was beautiful. Cosmic, even. So why was it that lately Agatha had taken every chance to get under Rio’s skin, poking poking poking until Death herself had to take a lap?
If Agatha were being honest with herself, she’d say it was because being married to Rio feels safe and comfortable… and that’s scaring the shit out of her. Maybe part of her keeps pushing just to see how far she can. Maybe every time she pushes and pushes and Rio stays, maybe one day something will click. Agatha will stop testing and just be happy. Maybe one day…
Agatha snapped out of her thoughts, looking up at Rio. Rio looked across the planted rows at her wife, “Is something wrong? Did I do something to upset you? I love bantering with you but it feels like we keep crossing some weird invisible line lately.” She stuffed her hands in her denim pockets and looked bashfully at the ground, furrowing her brows like she does when she’s trying to work through the foreign language that is human emotions, “I can’t help fix anything you don’t tell me is broken.”
Agatha winced, her chest tightening. She was so close to breaking down. Letting it out. Telling Rio that she loves her more than anything, more than she loves herself. That she’s the only thing that’s broken. But… just as she was about to say that… the classic Agatha walls, the ones built sky high from her lifetime of pain, they locked into place.
And more bullshit came out. Classic Agatha.
“Uhhhh. Well.” Agatha stammered trying to wiggle out of confessing her true feelings. “Maybe it’s my watch that’s broken? Yes that’s it, that’s why I keep getting home late. According to my watch, I’ve been right on time,” Agatha offered, flourishing her wrist toward Rio before snapping it behind her back. Because obviously her watch was not broken. And obviously this was a very childish response to Rio’s question.
“Agatha…” Rio sighed. And Agatha knew her wife’s seemingly endless patience was indeed running out.
Agatha couldn’t stay here. Looking at Rio’s face, hearing her exhaustion at the emotional ringer Agatha tended to put her through, she needed to go. She needed to breathe. She needed to figure her shit out. Maybe then, she could be the wife Rio deserved.
She’d fix this.
“Um. I just realized,” Agatha hedged as she pointed behind her and started retreating from the garden, “there’s something I forgot to take care of. Super important work stuff.”
Slowly, she walked backwards out of the garden, “I’ll be back in a flash baby.”
Rio watched her back away. She was annoyed, sure. Annoyed as she can be. She knows her wife… and her wife’s defense mechanisms. There wasn’t much of a point in stopping this classic Agatha exit. Rio knew she’d be back. Still, she wished she wouldn’t go.
Rio sighed. A deep breath in, and out, “Come home soon, my love?”
Agatha looked back at her favorite pair of big brown eyes, they were earnestly searching her own blue ones, looking for confirmation that this issue would be resolved.
“You know I will, beautiful.”