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Weak Spots

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“Here.” Emily drops a plastic bag on Andy’s desk, on the scattered papers and notes. “I got you your ridiculous sweets - even though I am on a strict diet”, she says with the air of a rather accusing martyr. “I hope you’re happy.”

All she gets is a mumbled “thanks”, but not even an acknowledging look. Andy, huddled in her silly grey hoodie, is absorbed by whatever probably terribly brilliant thing she is typing.

After a few seconds of being so thoroughly underappreciated, Emily huffs. “Oh, alright, take me for granted. I have nothing better to do than grocery shopping, it’s not like there’s about a billion things I should have done instead.”

As she shakes her head to walk away, Andy jumps up and holds her back. “No, no no no, Emily, wait!”

With a dramatic sigh, Emily reluctantly lets Andy pull her back. “Didn’t you get the part where I said that I am busy-...”

Andy interrupts her with a kiss on the cheek. “Em, you are the best”, she says, with emphasis, and puts her arms around Emily’s neck to pull her closer.

“Flattery will get you nowhere”, is the flat answer, but still, Emily allows her to give her another kiss.

“You’re my savior”, Andy continues undeterred, placing kisses on the tense corners of Emily’s mouth, “What would I ever do without you.”

“I can’t even imagine”, is the exasperated answer, yet her expression softens as she gracefully accepts another smooch.


Nobody knows better than Andrea that Emily’s job is the worst. Not that Emily would ever allow her to call it that. Stressful, maybe. Eating her alive. But Emily wants no pity.

And as she likes to point out, just because Andy works at home, too, doesn’t mean she isn’t preoccupied by her articles most of the time, so they are both busy. You have to make some sacrifices.

Still, sometimes a miracle happens and Emily gets home early, and it’s precious time that should not be wasted. Andy should know that, too.

 Yet for some unfathomable reason, this is the exact day that Andy is on a trip somewhere to meet someone for some article and of course, she is late.

After a few hours of sitting in front of the TV and sulkily drinking most of the bottle of wine in the fridge on her own, Emily decides to not wait any longer, who knows when Andy will show up, and goes to bed.

She had just huddled herself into the blankets when she hears the keys in the door, but Emily rolls to her side, facing the window and pretends to be asleep. Andy has definitely missed her chance.

Then she softly enters the room.

„Em“, she says, sweetly, imploringly, as she sits down on the bed.

“Don’t call me that”, Emily scoffs, forgetting that she was pretending to be asleep. “I’m mad at you.”

“Em”, Andy says again, softer, as she moves closer. “I’m so sorry.”

Gentle fingers ghost over her neck, carefully brush her hair aside before she kisses her on the neck.

“I really am.”

Another strategically planted kiss, and Emily inclines her head a bit despite herself.

“I swear I’ll make it up to you”, Andy is smiling that smile of hers, she can hear it in her voice and feel it against her skin, and damn her, it makes her melt like butter. “Forgive me, please?”

“We’ll see.” It comes out as less cold than intended. “That depends on how you plan to do that.”

 “How do you even put up with me”, Andy yawns and puts her arms around her still rather huffy girlfriend to cuddle up to her, the show of regret not really convincing anymore.

 Emily sighs and closes her eyes, as the warmth is lulling her in, but before she gives in to sleep, she says pointedly, “I don’t know.”


Usually, it’s Emily who falls onto the couch after hours in the trenches, exhausted and stressed, and more than grateful for Andy and her skilled fingers when she massages her sore feet and is an oasis of soothing optimism and never gets tired of gently kneading her neck, kissing her and telling crude stories about her day to make Emily laugh.

But when deadlines pull closer, it’s Andy who is still awake in the middle of the night, hunched over her laptop, gnawing her lip and messing her hair up absentmindedly, apparently stuck and desperate. 

When she notices Emily in the door frame, arms crossed and a frown on her face, Andy waves her hand to shoo her away. “Go back to bed, you have work tomorrow. I just need to finish this, I’ll be over soon.”

Emily shakes her head. “That’s what you said hours ago. It’s four in the morning.”

“Already?”, Andy bites her lip again. “Shit”, she mumbles, and when she repositions her laptop, she looks so tired, her eyes puffy and red, that Emily has enough.

“If you will be dead if this isn’t finished by tomorrow, I’ll make you a coffee and stay right here until you finish”, she announces. “But if this isn’t a matter of life and death, you go to bed now, no discussions.”

“But-“, Andy starts in vain.

“Does it have to be an all-nighter?”, Emily asks, with a terribly stern air.

"Well, I think I could, I don’t know, finish it tomorrow and miss the deadline just by a few hours-…”

“Good”, Emily cuts in. “To bed. Now. No buts.”

When Andy hesitates, Emily comes over to take the laptop of her and holds out a hand.

“You are stuck anyway, what you need is sleep”, she says, and gestures with her hand for Andy to finally take it. “Come to bed. I’m freezing.”

Andy gives her an exhausted smile and takes her hand so she can help her up. “Okay”, she yawns. “But only because you asked so nicely.”