Chapter 3
A piercing ringing spiked in Rio’s ear. She thought she couldn’t breathe; her face was so smashed against the tarmac that it was becoming harder for air to reach her nostrils. She shifted, trying to get her arms to move so she could push off the ground. She and Agatha had to get out of there.
Against her muscles protests, Rio got her arms to work. She bit her lip to soothe the pain shooting up them as she pushed off the ground.
“Agatha?” She croaked.
The other woman was already on her feet, her right hand clutching at her side.
“We gotta-”
Rio cut herself off when people emerged from the other houses on the street.
Without a word, the two women made their way across the road before breaking into a run. They shot down the sidewalk, neither of them daring to look back to see if anyone was following them.
Rio thought at first, she was imagining it, until Agatha did it again. She laughed. It was breathless and choppy due to the running, but the other woman was in fact laughing. Before she could stop herself, Rio was laughing too.
They looked like maniacs. They were covered in blood, soot and dirt sprinting down the streets of Manhattan laughing hysterically. Rio bet people thought they had just escaped from a psych ward.
It felt like they had ran a half marathon before Agatha told her they should stop. Rio watched as the other woman hunched over, her hands resting on her knees.
She shouldn’t…but she did it anyway. “Are you okay?” Rio asked.
Agatha stood up. “Yeah,” she blew out.
Rio nodded, watching her fake wife stretch.
“And I’m fine too, thanks for asking.”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Agatha laughed. “I thought we only had one-sided conversations.”
She was talking about how Rio had acted in the café earlier. Rio stuck her tongue in her cheek as she let out a short laugh.
Sirens sounded in this distance and a chopper appeared in the darkening sky.
“We should clean up. We can’t have people looking for us.”
Agatha nodded.
The two women headed down the street to the Thai restaurant at the end.
Rio tried to ignore how hungry she was as soon as she stepped into the restaurant and was instantly hit with the smell of delicious food. How desperately she wanted to sit at one of the tables, order her favourite Thai dish (Thai green curry that was tempting her as she stared at the menu before her) and eat to her heart's content. She knew she couldn’t. She had literally just blown up a mansion.
“Do you have a toilet?” Rio asked the server at the door. “My wife and I fell over; we need to clean up.”
The server scrunched his face to let them know he called bullshit.
“Here’s fifty,” Agatha said, handing him a fifty-dollar bill.
The server accepted gratefully and pointed them in the direction of the toilet.
Something told Rio Agatha was accustomed to giving people money to get what she wanted. Who was this woman and what had her upbringing been like? Rio knew already that Agatha’s had been nothing like hers.
There was only one toilet, of course there was. The two women shuffled into the tight space and Rio tried not to gag at the smell, or the toilet roll all over the floor. And obviously, there wasn’t a mirror, the one thing they actually needed.
Rio pulled toilet roll off the toilet roll holder and turned the tap to dampen it. The water came out in drips no matter how loose Rio unscrewed the tap. She huffed in frustration before dabbing at her forehead with the tissue. She didn’t know if it was doing any good, she couldn’t fucking see.
“Would you like some help?” Agatha said after a while. “You’re just wiping blood all over your face.”
Rio bit her lip. She really didn’t want Agatha to touch her, but she couldn’t go out covered in blood.
“Yeah…please.”
The other woman nodded, walking over to where Rio stood with her back against the sink. She swallowed; Agatha was so…close.
Agatha’s fingers brushed the backs of Rio’s as she took the damp tissue. She tried to relax her body when the other woman’s finger gently slid across her forehead to tuck strands of hair behind her ear. She couldn’t help herself; she looked down and was met with a sea of blue staring up at her as Agatha swiped tenderly at Rio’s forehead with the soggy tissue.
She inhaled a shaky breath and forced herself to breathe properly when Agatha’s eyes began slowly flicking between hers. Something pulsed down below, and Rio dug her nails into her palms to steady herself.
“Done,” Agatha said moments later.
Rio had never been more relieved in her life…well, that was until she realised, she should return the favour.
“Do you want me to?” Rio gestured to her face.
“Please,” Agatha replied.
“Hold on, let me check your side first.”
“What-”
Before Agatha could finish her sentence, Rio was pulling up her blue button-up shirt. There was a deep purple bruise blooming on her right rib. She locked eyes with her wife, a silent request to touch. The other woman nodded and as soon as she did, Rio took two fingers and pressed them into Agatha’s skin, she hissed.
“Sorry,” Rio apologised. “Good thing is nothing's broken.” She let her fingers trail up and down the bruise. Agatha was so warm under her cold digits.
When she looked up, she saw blue and promptly snatched her fingers away, clearing her throat before reaching over to the toilet roll next to her and dampening a new piece. Rio then began wiping her fake wife’s face. She wasn’t covered in any blood; she was just dirty and Rio had to resist the urge to stick her thumb in her mouth and wipe away the dirt on Agatha’s face with her saliva the way her Abuela did her when she was younger.
Rio did the best she could with the limited water, but it wasn’t enough.
“I think we’re just going to have to leg it home.”
“We’ll split up,” Agatha told her. “We’re less recognisable then.”
She nodded.
“Wait, take off your jacket.”
Rio arched an eyebrow which made Agatha laugh.
“No, I mean we should change our appearances as best we can.”
Oh…obviously, Rio thought. She didn’t understand why she was second-guessing everything Agatha said and did. She hadn’t made a move on her and yet Rio thought everything she did was just that.
She shrugged off her jacket. Her white top was covered in dirt and blood.
Agatha’s eyes widened. “Oh…erm…here.” She started shrugging off her own blazer. “Take the top off and put this on. I’ll climb out the window and you go out the fire exit down the corridor.”
Rio took the blazer from Agatha’s outstretched hand. “Okay…thank you.”
Agatha smiled. “You don’t have to say thank you, we’re married. What’s mine is yours.”
She didn’t want to, she really didn’t, but Rio couldn’t help it. She smiled back.
“See you at home?” Rio asked shyly.
“Where else would I be?” Agatha replied as she started climbing out of the window. “Really anticlimactic, huh.”
Rio laughed before the other woman disappeared into the night.
She stripped off her long-sleeve top and disposed of it in the bin next to her. She then pulled on Agatha’s blazer and did up the middle button to cover herself. It smelt of Agatha, of her perfume. Rio didn’t know what it was, but it smelt like power. Like sex and seduction. She pressed her nose further into the blazer, she would stand in that bathroom sniffing her fake wife’s clothing all night if she could. The scent was addicting, Rio craved it, she…
Shit.
Rio was in big. Fucking. Trouble.
***
On the subway home, Rio thought about how best to tackle this situation. She had been doing so well this morning, she was blunt, she hadn’t let Agatha get to know her, and the conversations had been work-related. It was just the way Agatha had taken care of her in that bathroom. Rio was usually the one looking after the people she cared about, mind you that only really meant her Abuela, and more so in the moments leading up to her death.
Either way, Rio didn’t get looked after, and now her fake wife had done just that. And the way Agatha had looked at her when she did so, with such patience and understanding.
No one had ever looked at Rio the way Agatha just had.
But that wasn’t anything special…right? That was just fake wife stuff…?
She twisted her clasped hands. Her professionalism was slipping away by the minute.
What Rio really wanted to do when she got off the subway was to walk around Central Park for the next hour until she had solidified a plan of action, but she couldn't. She was on a potential watchlist right now and she needed to get off the evidence of her involvement (the blood and dirt on her body).
She entered her house and was met with nothing, had she gotten home before Agatha?
“Agatha?” Rio called as she put her keys into the key bowl.
No response. She either wasn’t home yet or was in the shower, which is exactly where Rio wanted to be.
Rio had been in the shower for an hour and a half when she finally got out, she was as shrivelled up as a raisin. She didn’t care, she wanted the grime gone. This was a practice of hers after every mission. Rio would make sure the water was scolding before she’d spend over an hour in the shower scrubbing herself raw. She didn’t know what it was about it, but it helped her feel clean, helped her move on.
Helped her detach.
Rio pulled on grey linen sleep shorts and a red Spider-Man t-shirt she had, had since she was a teenager, wrapped a towel around her head and walked out of her room towards Agatha’s. She wanted to see if she had gotten home…it was for no other reason.
Rio knocked and was met with silence. Against her better judgment, she frowned.
“Agatha?” Rio said as she pushed her fake wife’s bedroom door open.
She wasn’t there, the room was empty.
Rio was sure she was home. She had been in the shower for over an hour. Rio walked to the elevator and pressed the button to the first floor. When she stepped out, she was hit with the scent of food. Rio’s mouth salved at the smell.
“Hungry?” Agatha’s voice called from the kitchen.
Rio rounded the corner to see Agatha clean and, in her pyjamas, another silk set except this time it was navy blue.
“Starving,” Rio replied, walking over to their island that was covered in various takeaway containers.
“I got a mix of dishes because I don’t know what you like yet, but,” Agatha licked orange sauce off her thumb before she handed Rio a container. “This ones yours.”
Rio’s jaw dropped in disbelief. “How…how did you-?”
Agatha laughed, “I saw the way you were staring at it on the menu back in the restaurant. You were practically drooling.”
She blinked at the Thai green curry in her hands.
Not once in her life.
Rio could feel herself crossing the line between professionalism and not.
She didn’t care.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“That’s okay,” Agatha replied as if it were nothing.
But to Rio, this was everything.
***
The two women sat on opposite sides of their largest leather couch. Rio had brought down blankets from their storage cupboard and Agatha had plated up their Thai food into pasta bowls. Jazz music played from the record player in the corner of their living room that Agatha had figured out how to work.
She had noticed that Rio kept stealing little glances at her. Did she have something on her face? She must’ve done. The way Rio had acted this morning made it clear she had intended to toy with her and that was it. Agatha wanted to feel the same.
She wasn’t sure she could.
It was all so…easy, with Rio. Did that make her stupid? Agatha thought so. This was day two of their marriage and she barely knew the woman, but it was just the way Rio had laughed at her antics earlier, the way she had taken over back at the mansion when Agatha had been close to choking someone, the way she had looked at her in that bathroom.
Like she was grateful for Agatha being there. That she wanted Agatha there.
It had been a long time since Agatha had felt wanted by anyone…well, except for him.
Agatha hadn’t had much luck in the love department. She hadn’t gotten it from her parents during her childhood, she hadn’t committed to anyone in her teens only fucked around with almost every girl in her very catholic private school and had only been in one relationship, and that had ended in utter shit.
Why would Rio be any different? It was evident her fake wife wasn’t interested in her past their mutual attraction…
But then why was she staring at her?
Agatha huffed, “What? What is it?”
“What do you mean?” Rio said around her mouthful of spring roll.
“You keep looking at me.”
Rio coughed before swallowing her food. “Was I? I don’t think-”
“You know, for a secret agent you really are bad at lying.”
“I…” Rio started. “I’m not bad at lying when it counts.”
Agatha laughed at that. “So, this doesn’t qualify?”
Rio bit her lip as Agatha watched her try to suppress a laugh.
The women settled into silence until Rio said, “I know I’ve already asked but how are you doing? How’s your ribs?”
Agatha fought off the urge to smile at her fake wife’s newfound concern. “They’re fine. I’m okay, not my first explosion.”
“Tell me about it,” Rio said shifting to sit up further like an eager kid preparing to listen to a bedtime story. “About your first explosion.”
Agatha laughed. “Okay. My partner and I had to disable a bomb in this warehouse. I can’t remember what happened exactly all I know is one of us accidentally set off the timer. We had to get out, there wasn’t enough time for us to disable it. It was the first mission I ever failed. I promised myself I wasn’t going to make it a habit.”
Rio nodded.
“But I did get a cool scar,” Agatha put down her food on the table and lifted up her shirt to reveal a zig-zag line on the edge of the left side of her pelvis.
Rio bit her lip at the sight of Agatha’s exposed skin. “That’s…yeah…that is a cool scar,” she got out.
Agatha pulled her shirt down. “What about you? What was your first explosion?”
“Erm…this was it. I don’t think the practice tests we did in FBI training count.”
“They do if you want them to,” Agatha smiled. “Okay, since we are no longer having one-sided conversations let's start again. Tell me something about yourself.”
Rio stirred. Agatha could tell by her face that there was a conflict Rio was fighting in her head. She watched the other woman in silence, letting the jazz music fill the void. Agatha wouldn’t push Rio she realised. If she didn’t want to talk that would be okay, she would wait until she was ready.
Rio cleared her throat, “I grew up in Brooklyn, my favourite colour is green, and I like cats.”
Agatha quirked an eyebrow, a smile on her lips. “Wow, you really hit me with all the deep stuff.”
Rio laughed at that. “Now your turn.”
“I grew up in the Upper East Side, my favourite colour is purple, and I also like cats but prefer rabbits.”
“You…like…bunnies?” Rio gaped in disbelief.
“Yeah?”
Rio let out a short laugh. “I’m sorry that was unexpected. You look like you would own a Rottweiler or a Doberman Pinscher or something.”
“I do?”
“Yeah. You’ve got that intimidating look, those type of dogs match the vibe.”
Agatha laughed. “The vibe?”
“Exactly.”
“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not but thank you.”
“It is,” Rio reassured her. “Beautiful women with scary dogs,” she kissed her fingers the way chiefs did when they made a meal that tasted good.
Agatha smirked; she couldn’t help herself. “You think I’m beautiful?”
Rio’s face fell as she shrank into herself after she realised what she’d said. She bit her lip nervously before her expression turned into a scowl. “You own a mirror.”
Agatha laughed.
“I think one of the neighbours has a cat so look out for it, I saw it in the garden this morning.”
Agatha stood up, walked to the other side of the couch where Rio sat, lifted up her legs, sat down and replaced Rio’s legs on top of hers fixing the blanket over them.
She was being very bold, and she knew it, but Rio hadn’t shown any signs of being uncomfortable.
“I took a photo, I’ll show you, so you know what it looks like,” Agatha said, pulling her phone out of her pocket.
She clicked it on and was about to tap on the camera roll icon when both women froze. The contact ID Baby popped up on Agatha’s screen.