Work Text:
Laudna Vessar becomes an IT Manager entirely by accident.
She starts as a Level 1 Tech wasting her days away playing video games or lurking reddit threads or watching Netflix in between password resets and holding hands through simple tasks. It’s an easy paycheck.
Then the entire staff quits when Bertrand Bell is named the department director. Laudna is too new to have an opinion on him and too settled into a routine to want to find something new so she watches her coworkers leave her behind.
Bertrand is unbothered by the whole ordeal and Laudna isn’t sure why he considers her for the position in the first place—even though she is the only one left—but if she was to hazard a guess, it would be because he doesn’t understand a lick of anything about technology.
Her routine interview consists of a litany of questions about her personal life and then a series of anecdotes about his accolades. When he shakes her hand in the end, he offers her the job at a salary that makes her balk in surprise.
She came prepared to explain the damning gaps in her job history—ready to prove herself worthy of the position even though she is under-qualified as fuck—and then she is promptly handed the keys to the castle, the position of IT Manager, and set off on her own.
The first year she spends trying to unravel the absolute dumpster fire that is waiting for her.
Bertrand is unashamed when he does not have any of the answers to her questions and instead gives her a list of vendors who have basically been running the entire IT department in his stead. Considering Laudna is the only other member of the team, it wouldn't surprise her if he was paying for their over-priced services with the salaries of at least five of her previous coworkers.
It doesn’t take her very long to cut every single unnecessary contract and convince Bertrand to up her salary instead. He seems to think everything that she says or does is impressive and Laudna has long since been used to being shat on by everyone she’s ever worked with, so while he is absolutely insane to do so, Laudna appreciates him more than he will ever know.
The years fly by, Laudna learns until her brain is exhausted and on her third anniversary she’s got the entire department—just herself really—running on a tight ship with an army of scripts doing her menial tasks for her and a litany of Group Policy rules to lock everyone down to basics.
Bertrand is a terrible boss all things considered, unfit for being the head of a department he barely understands, but he lets Laudna do whatever she wants and it seems to balance itself out just fine.
Laudna is hardly one to look a gift horse in its mouth. Especially when the horse is signing her bonuses and raises without a concept of annual spending.
The day her life splits into a before and after is like any other and when Laudna looks back on it, she almost laughs at how easily her life spins on its axis—how easily she slips into a Before and an After.
She makes her coffee when she comes in from the fancy machine she convinced Bertrand to expense. He used it fairly heavily the first few months that it’d been here, but lately he has taken to working from home so Laudna gets it all to herself.
The basement she works out of is windowless, but Laudna convinced him to give her license to decorate—she had had a whole spiel prepared about decorated spaces boosting morale and being good for mental health—but he had cut her off with swift agreement when he’d thought of the ways he could decorate his own office.
Now the basement is less dreary—strung up in fun lights and coated in posters of puns that make her smile everyday—and sometimes she can’t quite believe her life has taken such a turn for the better.
Her office—really just a cubicle with partial walls—is her second favorite place in the world. The setup is one personally built by her. Initially, it had just been a wobbly desk, a shitty chair with a PC that almost vibrated its way off the desk when pushed, and a monitor so pixelated she was sure she’d wind up needing glasses after prolonged use. What it is now is surely out of every gamer’s wet dreams.
The PC is top of the line, connected to not one, not two, but three monitors in 4K quality and had cost the company several thousand dollars that Bertrand had not even blinked at. It’s not surprising considering he does not understand the cost of anything and the more bells and whistles to him, the more the cost is justified. Even if the bells and whistles are actually just polished pieces of shit.
Laudna’s favorite part, her pride and joy, is her chair. A splurge, truly, to test the bounds of what Bertrand would allow, but her pitch left him quite envious and his only stipulation was that she purchase one for him, too. So Laudna enjoys her days in the comfiest gaming chair on the market, a pleasant stream of music from the speaker system she mounted herself along the backs of her monitors, and it's almost just like paradise.
She runs through her daily tasks, checks her emails—which mostly consist of deleting spam since no one really contacts her—, makes sure there are no voicemails—there aren’t because everything runs in pristine working order now so no one really calls—, and generates a series of reports so she is left in peace for the duration of her day.
She continues on like normal and before 9 a.m. has even hit, she’s already two rounds into an online gaming session with her best friend.
“You’re awful at this game,” Laudna laughs into her headset, fingers working at her keyboard and mouse with practiced ease. They are both ergo-dynamic and expensive and her favorite parts are the light-up colors that cover the keys in a pulsing rainbow.
Ashton lets out a string of curses and her headset is so good and his so poor that she can hear the distinct sounds of his fingers mashing buttons. “Fuck these little fucking trolls—"
The smooth ringing of her phone—reprogrammed long ago because the shrill blast is just so startling—draws her attention away from her top monitor.
“Oh, hang on,” Laudna’s character dies the second she reaches for her office phone and presses mute on her headset. No matter, she is still better than Ashton.
“IT,” Laudna answers almost robotically.
“Oh hi,” a distinctly feminine voice, lightly accented, and entirely unfamiliar greets her immediately.
Laudna has a host of repeat callers. There's Chetney in purchasing who always locks himself out of his computer because his calloused hands press too many keys, or lovely old Zhudanna in HR who constantly loses her Word documents, but Laudna does not have this voice cataloged. It makes her tilt her chair back into an upright position in curiosity.
“I’m a new hire,” the woman says, a touch uncomfortable. “I was told to call you to get set up?” Her voice goes a little high in question and Laudna blinks in confusion.
“Oh,” Laudna says, phone slipping between her ear and shoulder as she double-checks her calendar.
Zhudanna must have forgotten to tell her—not for the first time, she is truly so old—and Laudna has absolutely nothing prepared. “I’m so sorry,” she says contritely, because she is. She prides herself on her tight ship and she hates setting up new hires during the day, hates leaving her safe little alcove at all really, so it is often a task she does late into the evenings when the office is clear.
They probably think her a little mouse leaving her droppings all over the place, but no one ever complains to Bertrand so he never brings it up to her.
“I don’t have any note of you,” Laudna says, a little perturbed at being caught unawares. “Uh, can I have your name please?”
“Shit—right—shoulda led with that—I mean shoot—Uh, sorry, it’s Imogen—Imogen Temult,” the woman says, a whole lot more flustered now, her accent thickening in response.
“Alright,” Laudna keeps her voice light, unaffected, trying to set her at ease, though she isn’t quite sure why. Laudna has often let people hang suspended in awkwardness over the phone sometimes just to see how long it takes them to break the silence with inane conversation or anecdotes. “What department are you in, Imogen? That’s a lovely name by the way.”
“A-Accounting,” Imogen practically squeaks. “Also, thank you?” Her voice goes high-pitched at the end again and Laudna feels her lips crease into a smile.
“If you’ll give me just half an hour I can meet you in the accounting department and get you all set up.” Laudna tells her and though she is actually dreading leaving her lovely little basement to venture into the main building, she finds herself just a little bit curious about matching Imogen’s face to her voice.
Laudna so rarely gets to do it and, well, it’s not like she has a minion to pawn it off on like Bertrand does.
“Okay,” Imogen says, a little more confident now. “Okay, yeah, sure, no problem. I’m uh—I’m on the fourth floor.”
“I know,” Laudna says, smiling now genuinely. What a lovely amusing creature Imogen is.
“Right,” Imogen sighs. “Okay I’m gonna—I’m gonna hang up now so I don’t say anything else stupid.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” Laudna says, because truthfully the blame is on her for not checking with Zhudanna anyway. Laudna knows how scatterbrained she can be. Maybe she has gotten too wrapped-up in playing her games with Ashton. Besides, if she did think Imogen was stupid she would have hung up long ago. She loves hanging up abruptly and then pretending she lost connection.
Imogen lets out a laugh that sounds incredibly strained and then she’s practically whispering a hasty thanks and hanging up.
Laudna calls Zhudanna promptly, toggling the speaker so she can work on building Imogen into her systems at the same time.
“Why hello, deary! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Zhudanna always greets her the same way every time, warmly and grandmotherly and Laudna is never unhappy at the end of their conversations. No matter how much Zhudanna seems to test the length of her patience.
“Zhudanna,” Laudna sing-songs, lips twitching in amusement. “Are you forgetting to tell me something?”
Zhudanna falls silent for a moment and then she sighs, “I forgot again, didn’t I?
“Mhm,” Laudna hums good-naturedly, “What will it be this time for Miss Temult?”
There’s the sounds of very obvious clicking and keys being pressed, Zhudanna humming under her breath like she normally does. “Oh!” she says in surprise. “Yes, Imogen Temult, Senior Accountant—You can mirror her off of Gene, she’s taking his spot.”
Laudna dutifully honors this request, “Physically as well?”
“Yes,” Zhudanna says. “Poor girl, it’s such an awfully placed office.”
Laudna doesn’t have an opinion one way or another. “Alright, well, please do let me know if you have any other new hires coming,” she says, a touch fondly because it really is so amusing how awful Zhudanna can be at her job sometimes. If it was anyone else, Laudna would have sent a passive aggressive email instead. Maybe CC a supervisor if she was feeling particularly spicy.
“I’ll draft the email now,” Zhudanna says, a touch sheepish. “Thank you, Laudna, you’re such a dear. Allura is so excited about this one, so please don’t scare her off,” she says with obvious humor. A funny joke, really, considering she knows Laudna seldom leaves her office.
Their conversation wraps up promptly; Imogen is waiting and Laudna would like to get back to her gaming unimpeded.
Speaking of—
Laudna unmutes her mic. “I have to go do actual work, please use my absence to get better at this game,” she mutes herself hastily, but Ashton’s cussing still reaches her ears when she pulls off her headset. Laudna cackles as she leaves her desk.
The walk to the elevator is the easy part.
Laudna is the only one on this entire floor and she knows that there’s a standing rumor that the basement is haunted. She has never seen a ghost herself, but it keeps people away, so she has never bothered to discourage the rumors.
She punches the number for the fourth floor and prays that the elevator will not make any stops along the way. She tries not to fidget, hands stuffed deeply into her khakis, which she promptly yanks out when she realizes her hair has flattened against her skull in a decidedly ridiculous way from her headset—even if it is kind of skewed with the elevator reflection.
She runs her fingers through the short strands, mussing them in a way that doesn’t make her skull look misshapen. Maybe she should have her sister cut it soon, since her stubborn curl falls a little too low against her forehead for comfort.
She re-tucks her shirt while she is at it, lest she comes off as a slouch, and makes sure her lanyard is around her neck. One time she forgot it and security stopped her for ten whole minutes while they confirmed her employment. Laudna has not made that mistake since.
Thankfully, the elevator does not stop until it reaches the fourth floor and Laudna steps off with a sigh of relief at the quiet accounting department that is mostly just a bunch of people Zhudanna’s age working incredibly inefficiently until they retire.
Laudna has only spoken with the department head twice in person before she started emailing Laudna instead. Allura is incredibly beautiful and Laudna is incredibly gay and it was a recipe for disaster. Laudna is still vaguely impressed by all the new software she wants to implement when all these dinosaurs retire.
Laudna is actually excited about the potential project.
She winds through the cubicles, intent on hiding her face so she isn't peppered for help as she makes her way to Gene's old office. It's a small space in comparison to the others. The back wall is comprised of a series of cabinets and shelves and the desk is moderately sized without taking up too much space. It leaves space for a small singular chair just in front of it for guests.
The office is on the farthest half of the floor. Gene had a habit of harassing everyone in a twenty-foot radius, Bertrand told her once, so he was exiled away from the pit of cubicles and placed right next door to Allura to keep him focused.
“Oh, Laudna!” Allura calls out the moment she catches Laudna lurking around the cubicles, before she can make an abrupt about-face and duck into Gene’s old office. “Can you come here for a second?”
Fuck. Laudna can already feel the flustered blush creeping over her ears. She obeys the command anyway.
Allura sits at her very large desk in her very large office and Laudna looks everywhere but at her in the hopes she will not tie her tongue into knots.
“I assume you're here to set Imogen up, yes?”
Laudna nods, her eyes falling on the framed photos of Allura and her wife. They seem such a happy couple and Laudna has to remind herself that Allura is probably twice her age—even if she has aged like fine wine.
Her eyes dart up to Allura’s quickly so she doesn't look like a complete asshole. “My apologies on the delay. Zhudanna did not give me advance warning this time.”
Allura smiles warmly and Laudna feels the blush creep over her cheeks. “I am not surprised,” she says around a fond sigh. “Do you remember the project I mentioned to you a few months ago?”
Laudna nods again, this time a little more confidently. IT talk is safe, Laudna knows IT things.
“Can you give Imogen access to it, too? She’s already familiar with it and I want her to take a poke around,” Allura asks her with very attractive cadence.
Laudna blinks, a little surprised at how easily Allura requests this. She is notorious for saying no to a litany of things that her subordinates have tried to pass through or request. Maybe Allura is excited about Imogen. “Of course,” she answers, only a little stilted. “If you think of anything else—”
“I’ll send you an email,” Allura finishes with a knowing grin. “Thank you, Laudna, that was all I needed.” The dismissal is clear and Laudna scuttles back out of the room quickly.
She will get over it one day, surely, the inability to not blush and stammer like a fucking idiot in the presence of a beautiful woman, but it seems that today is not the day. It takes several minutes for her blush to fade and her fluster to ease, but once it does she steps into Gene’s old office and—
“Fuck. Me.”
If Laudna thinks—If Allura is—Laudna is probably going to pass out.
“‘Scuse me?” the voice is undoubtedly startled, familiar and definitely belonging to one Imogen Temult.
Laudna is prepared for the face that matches the voice. Her hopeless crush on Allura Vysorren simply doesn’t exist anymore—her beauty is just a fallacy, Laudna is sure, because Imogen is—Imogen is gorgeous in a way that shouldn’t exist.
Wide gray-blue eyes peer back at Laudna around the edge of a tiny monitor, a spattering of freckles across her upper cheeks and the bridge of her nose, an adorable widow’s peak and lovely golden blonde hair hanging around her shoulders, a heart shaped mouth parted open in surprise, a tiny gap between two front teeth—
“What did you just say?”
Laudna feels her entire face erupt in a blush and then to her utter humiliation so does Imogen’s.
“Uh, nothing,” Laudna says quickly. “Nothing I was—he computer!” she gestures at it so frantically, almost dislocating her elbow in the process. “It’s old is all—I was surprised,” she finishes lamely.
Perfect. How embarrassing. Laudna will never live this down.
Imogen looks as bewildered as Laudna feels and the temperature in the office heats up to almost unbearable. Laudna longs for the comfort of her basement so badly.
“Oh,” Imogen says, brows furrowing together, her lower lip catching between her teeth. “Right, yeah, it was—it was pretty dusty in here when I came in so I had—I assumed.” Her lips twitch into the barest hint of a smile, nervous and shy and Laudna feels like her heart is going to fucking explode out of her chest.
Laudna almost can’t look away from her—like when you can’t stop watching an awful car accident—especially when Imogen stands up from her creaking old chair and walks around the desk to outstretch her hand.
Laudna’s eyes fall on the navy slacks that frame a very ample waist, the white collared blouse tucked into them neatly that is stretched a little tightly at the chest, the way her hair cascades down to almost her waist—
Fuck, she is so gay it is actually rotting her brain.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Imogen, the new senior accountant,” Imogen says and she seems to shake off her nerves just as quickly as they appeared. Laudna still flounders for a second before she remembers that she is supposed to shake Imogen’s hand in return.
Fuck. She hopes they aren’t clammy. They probably are. They’d been in her pockets for so long—
“Laudna,” Laudna manages to rumble out, shaking Imogen’s lovely soft hand and then yanking her own away to jam right back into her pocket into safer territory. “IT,” she says around a nervous curl of her lips.
How does one smile again—Oh—Like that—How fucking lovely—
Imogen’s smile widens, “Great, so you can get me set up? Allura said I got my work cut out for me and I’m ready to start.” She certainly sounds excited about it, even rubs her hands together for a beat before she seems to realize what she’s done and yanks them apart again.
Laudna blinks the stars in her vision away. “Yes,” she says, remembering that she actually does have a purpose here and it’s not to stare at the gorgeous fucking new girl who seems to have descended from the heavens themselves. Laudna expected an old crone, truly, maybe someone as old as Gene, even if Imogen’s voice sounded so, so lovely, but she had not anticipated this.
“Uh,” Imogen’s brow furrows slightly, her thumb jerking over her shoulder to point at the desk. “Do you need me to—”
Fucking Christ, Laudna is never going to leave the basement again.
“Of course,” Laudna says, snapping into motion. She gives Imogen as wide a berth as she can as she steps around her and walks over to the desk.
The monitor is too small, certainly will not do for a Senior Accountant, and the keyboard is too faded and Laudna will have to swap the mouse, too, so it matches and honestly—what fucking year did Bertrand purchase this hulking tower of shit—
“Do you think I could get a bigger monitor?” Imogen’s voice is so tentative, so soft, and when Laudna looks up at her in surprise, her fingers are knotted in front of her belly nervously. “I just—I have bad eyes,” she says with a self-deprecating kind of laugh. “And the programs already have such small text—”
“Yes,” Laudna says immediately. “Yes, I can—Uh, just give me—I’ll be right back.” She will give Imogen anything she fucking wants. Her steps are fast as she heads back for the entrance of Imogen’s office and just before she crosses the threshold she spins back around as a thought strikes her, “Do you want two? Three?”
Imogen’s eyes widen, the apples of her cheeks darkening, “Oh no! No, no! One is just fine—I’m not tryna be a pain—”
“I’ll bring three,” Laudna says with a decisive nod and then she scurries back to the elevator and punches the B no fewer than six times.
She will redo the whole set-up.
Imogen is a Senior Accountant. She should have top of the line everything. It would reflect poorly on the company if Laudna doesn’t give her everything she has in stock. Maybe she can order special monitors—Imogen has bad eyes, it certainly won’t do to stress them more—
Laudna is just being good at her job. It has nothing to do with Imogen being the most beautiful creature she has ever laid eyes on.
Nothing at all.
Laudna is inherently pleased with herself.
A record timing truly. It’s not even lunch time yet and Imogen is all set up. Laudna had only sweated a little bit.
“Laudna,” Imogen’s voice is awed, her hands hovering over her new wireless keyboard in a jittery wiggle of fingers, her face back-lit by the three monitors Laudna has mounted to her desk at the perfect height ratio so Imogen doesn’t have to strain her neck. “I feel like this is too much.” She looks back over her shoulder at Laudna, lovely gray eyes glittering—
“Do you like it?” Laudna needles and really it's ridiculous—she’s twenty-eight years old. She has a career, a child, a mortgage, and here she is waiting for the praise of a woman she just met like it will decide her worthiness—
“Fuck, yeah,” Imogen says, voice a little hushed and the corner of her mouth quirking into a sly grin. “I might not even have to wear my glasses now.” She turns back to her new computer, the latest model they have in stock that Laudna has not actually deployed to anyone yet. She clicks through her new mailbox and readjusts her programs on her screens to her heart’s content.
Laudna feels a grin spread over her lips, her ears heating up only a little bit. “Good,” she says and maybe a little pride leaks into her voice, but only because she has created such a respectable work station.
Not because Imogen is pleased. That would be— ridiculous and unprofessional. Honestly.
Imogen turns back to her and the smile on her lips is full, showing off the precious gap between her teeth that makes Laudna’s brain feel like it's sputtering to its blissful death. “Thank you so much,” she says earnestly. “I’m sure you have better things to do than—”
“It’s alright,” Laudna says quickly, a little frantic. “It’s my job. I’m happy to do it for you. For everyone,” she tacks on at the end, trying to fight the grimace of her lie. She actually would not do this for anyone unless it was dire and she had no other choice.
Laudna hates leaving her basement after all.
“Well, I appreciate it anyway,” Imogen says with a singular sharp nod, like that is the end of it.
Laudna scrambles for something more to say, for some way to extend this conversation because Imogen has truly been so lovely and she has been so kind to Laudna the entire time. She hadn’t even laughed when Laudna banged her head rifling around in a sea of wires and dust under her desk.
She’s about to speak again—maybe try and take some of Ashton’s advice and talk to a pretty girl like she is just a normal person and not a goddess that Laudna is surely unworthy of being in the presence of—
Until Allura interrupts them. Laudna can’t believe she ever had a crush on her.
“Laudna,” Allura’s eyes widen in surprise. “I didn’t realize you were still up here.”
“My fault,” Imogen cuts in, a wry smile on her face. “She was bein’ so nice helpin’ me.”
Allura’s eyes trace over Imogen’s desk, her eyebrow ticking up towards her hairline. “I see,” she says in faint amusement.
Laudna refuses to make eye contact, too busy trying to keep her face from starting her hair on fire.
“I was hoping to borrow Imogen,” Allura says and Imogen stands up from her chair immediately. Laudna hears a mournful little tune in her head—like a game show ticking out of time and the audience sighing in sympathy.
“I think we were wrapped up,” Imogen says, her voice lilting at the end in question.
It takes Laudna a second to realize they are both staring at her expectantly.
“A-All done,” Laudna says, face stretching unnaturally into a smile that feels too forced.
“Excellent,” Allura says and then she spins on her heel. “Imogen, whenever you’re ready,” she tosses over her shoulder and then she’s gone as abruptly as she arrived.
Imogen makes to follow her, but she stops directly in front of Laudna, as close as they have been all morning and Laudna feels her blush spread when she realizes Imogen also smells lovely—
“Thank you again,” Imogen says, her voice a little quieter in her earnestness. “For makin’ me feel welcome.”
Laudna’s eyes snap up to hers and holy fuck her eyes are even more gorgeous up close—How is anyone able to stare at her without wanting to fall on their own sword? Laudna doesn’t even own a sword.
“You’re welcome,” Laudna says. Then Imogen offers her a gap-toothed smile and trails out of her office. She turns slightly, wiggling her fingers in a wave goodbye before she disappears.
It’s not a second too soon because Laudna’s knees wobble and she has to lean against the wall to keep her balance.
What a fucking morning. Maybe she will leave early. She is already exhausted and sweaty.
It still takes her several minutes too long before she actually leaves Imogen’s office.
Ashton can’t game with her when she finally plops back into her office chair—safe and sound and a normal temperature again.
Laudna would probably be absolutely horrendous anyway, with the way her nerves are still rattled.
The rest of the day passes in a haze and Laudna knows it’s ridiculous, but Imogen’s face has already seared its way into her memory and if she thought her crush on Allura was bad—
Something tells her Imogen is going to be much, much worse.
Laudna leaves at a respectable 4:30 p.m. despite the small number of new hires starting at various points in the next two weeks. She has worked hard enough for one day. She deserves to flee this building and not have to return until tomorrow.
As she walks through the parking lot, she can’t quite help wondering which car is Imogen’s, and then banishes the thought almost immediately, heat brewing in her cheeks because Jesus fucking Christ how stalker of her—
Laudna blares music the entire way home so she can’t hear herself think.
On Mondays she has a routine. She gets home from work, loads her child into his leash, and walks two blocks down to her sister's house for dinner.
Pâté is undoubtedly excited to see her and Laudna doesn’t even chastise him for tugging on his leash and trying to eat the grass.
The walk is lovely for soothing her nerves and by the time she’s strolling up the sidewalk to her sister’s home, she’s much more at ease. She regains her faculties enough to not trip over the sea of toys littering the pathway and crumpled pieces of chalk along the way.
Laudna’s lips twitch into a reflexive grin when she rings the doorbell and hears a chorus of shrieking voices. Pâté’s tail thumps a mile a minute against her leg, feet tapping anxiously against the homemade front door mat emblazoned with Ashari in neat script and dotted with little handprints and dog prints.
The door yanks open and Laudna’s eyes immediately trail down to her oldest niece.
“Auntie Lala!” Vilya says around a big smile, two front teeth missing and Trinket hot on her heels. “Hi!”
Laudna steps through the threshold, unclipping Pâté’s leash before he takes off into the house to wrestle her sister's dog in affection. Vilya is already reaching for her the moment her hands are free and Laudna is dutiful as she lifts her up and props her on the hip. She runs her finger down Vilya's nose to make her giggle.
“You are not supposed to open the door without a grown-up, little miss,” Laudna tells her firmly, but really Vilya is so cute that she can’t quite help the way her lips crease in a smile.
Vilya's eyes, green and twinkling and very much not a Vessar staple, widen innocently. “I had Trinket.”
Laudna kicks the door closed behind her, humming thoughtfully. “He is kind of old, isn’t he?”
Vilya giggles, “Yeah!”
Trinket is certainly older than Vilya's six years.
Laudna makes it out of the foyer before there are two blurs of dark hair barreling into her legs with twin shrieks and grabbing hands.
“Hello, tiny children!” Laudna greets boisterously much to the twins' delight. They grin up at her with tiny teeth and rosy cheeks, dark eyes and Vessar mischief dancing in them. She almost can’t believe that they were tiny squirming bundles at one point.
Emilia and Elliot, both in diapers, step on her boots and try and tug their way up her pants. Vilya spits her tongue at both of them.
“They’re so little,” Vilya says haughtily, arms curled tight around Laudna's neck.
Laudna feels her cheeks ache with the size of her smile. She loves her nieces and nephews like they are her own. Monday nights are her favorite.
Her sister barrels around the corner then, eyes wide and worried and maybe a little frantic until she spots Laudna just outside of her foyer and all of her children clinging to her in some form or fashion.
Vex’ahlia’s hands promptly slide over her hips. “Vilya Ashari, did you open the door without an adult?”
“I had Trinket!” Vilya cries out earnestly.
Vex’ahlia softens, lips curling in amusement. “A human adult, darling,” she says in gentle reprimand. “You know that.”
Vilya crosses her tiny arms over her chest and Laudna cups the side of her head and pulls her closer. “She’ll have an adult with her next time, right Vilya?”
Vilya nods eagerly from where Laudna has smooshed their faces together. “Yeah!”
Vex’ahlia rolls her eyes. “Well, since you're here now, come help me with dinner,” she says, turning on her heel and heading back into the kitchen. “The twins have been on a tear since we got home.”
Laudna urges Vilya onto her back, the little girl going willingly with a little peal of giggles and Laudna bends into a squat and wraps her arms around the twins to prop on either of her hips. She doesn't buckle under all the weight, but she does feel the pull of muscles she doesn't use while sitting all day.
“All aboard,” Laudna calls out in her most official train conductor voice. “Miss Vilya are you holding on tight?”
Vilya's arms tighten and Laudna only just manages to hold back her cough at her windpipe being crushed in surprising child strength. At least she is secure.
“Yeah!” Vilya giggles and, really, it’s not the first time they’ve done this so Laudna chooses to trust her grip.
She rises slowly to not jostle Vilya off her back and then she does her best impression of a train as she walks them all to the kitchen.
“Next stop: kitchen!”
Vex’ahlia turns when they barrel in, Vilya deposited safely in an empty chair and the twins squirming and giggling in her arms. The smile on her face lights her eyes and darkens her cheeks in a happy glow that Laudna is pleased to see.
It disappeared for a while there. Postpartum had not been kind to her.
“Oh, is that my delivery?” Vex’ahlia asks in amusement.
“If your delivery is two unruly babies,” Laudna answers wryly when Elliot tries to stick his fingers up her nose and Emilia tries to tug her ear off her skull. She is used to being tugged and prodded, so it barely registers at all.
“Exactly what I ordered,” Vex’ahlia says with a soft grin and fondness all over her face. Elliot reaches for her and Vex’ahlia is quick to pull him into her arms.
Laudna helps her prepare dinner by entertaining all of her children so she can work in peace. Her sister's home is never quiet, not in the way Laudna's is, so she soaks up every ounce of noise she can get. She cajoles the kids into a frenzy, doesn't even bat an eye at the baleful glare Vex'ahlia sends her when they're singing a kid’s song at the top of their lungs.
She loves them. They love her. It's warming in the best way possible.
“Where’s Keyleth?” Laudna asks sometime later. She helps her sister bring the plated meals to the table, makes sure there are drinks and placements in place and everyone has their silverware. The twins don’t even wait until she has fully placed their dishes down on their high chairs before their tiny little fingers are digging in.
No sooner than the words exit her mouth is a key scraping in the lock and the front door bursting open in a flurry of motion. The dogs bark and Keyleth greets them a touch distractedly. There's a series of thumps, from tails or Keyleth setting down her bags or both, before Keyleth finally turns the corner to join them.
"Sorry, sorry, I know I'm late," Keyleth rushes out with a small measure of fluster in her voice. Her royal blue scrubs are wrinkled and her face is set into exhaustion, but she steps into Vex'ahlia's already open arms like that has been her destination all along.
"It's alright, darling," Vex'ahlia soothes with a quick kiss. She rubs almost absently at Keyleth's belly and Laudna's eyes fall on the small swell growing there with vague interest. Four is ambitious. Laudna wonders what they will do if it’s twins. She is just as excited this time around as she was for the first two.
"Go and change, Kiki. Laudna and I will wait for you," Vex'ahlia instructs softly. She cups briefly at Keyleth's cheek, kisses her again for good measure and then lets her eyes slide over to the twins in their highchairs consuming their dinner with the voraciousness of starvation. The smile on her lips is wry as she says, "I cannot say the same for the twins."
Keyleth huffs an exhausted laugh as she lets her head fall into the crook of Vex'ahlia's neck. Her sister is dutiful as she rubs at her wife's lower back and when Keyleth stands tall again, there is love and warmth shimmering all over her face. Laudna has always loved that about her most. She is so free with her expressions, with her love, with her kindness, that she has thawed the frost around her sister's heart with little effort.
"Okay," Keyleth says, a determined set between her brow, but she doesn't disappear just yet. She rounds the table to give her greetings, plants kisses to everyone's foreheads as she goes—Even Laudna's, much to Laudna's chagrin. She flushes red hot when Keyleth tugs at a lock of her hair and says, "Haircut soon, huh?" before she's kissing her wife once more and darting off to change.
Laudna takes her place on the side of Vilya and closest to Elliot and Vex’ahlia sits opposite her on the other side of Emilia. Dinner only begins for them when Keyleth rejoins them in sweatpants and a tank top and her red hair loose around her shoulders.
It's just a standard dinner, nothing really out of the norm, so Laudna is surprised when her tongue tangles up in her mouth when Vex'ahlia asks her customary—
"Anything interesting at work today, Laudna?"
And Laudna blurts out, "We got a new hire today," before she can stop herself.
Vex'ahlia's narrow like a shark who has smelled blood in the water. "Did you?" she says in that special kind of purred delight that means Laudna's either about to be forced into a blush of embarrassment or anger or both. "Is she a very pretty girl?"
Fucking bitch. Laudna can't believe her sister is married to a woman and bore her children and still Laudna is the useless gay loser. Seems unfair. Like Vex'ahlia sucked all of the confidence out of the womb and left none for Laudna.
Laudna's face flushes red and Vex'ahlia grins with all her teeth.
"What's her name?" Vex'ahlia asks knowingly and Laudna stubbornly tilts her chin and refuses to answer. She can't make fun if she doesn't know any information and Laudna will guard it close to the vest just to spite her.
"Wouldn't you like to know," Laudna fires back in a snit and then she looks to Keyleth with her sweetest smile, "Kiki, my favorite sister, how was your day?"
Laudna is in the middle of a very important Google deep dive on a series of rumored leaks from one of her favorite shows when her desk phone goes off beside her. She is still engrossed in her reading when she fumbles blindly to put the phone on speaker.
“IT,” Laudna says brusquely, a touch annoyed at being interrupted during such a riveting read.
“Hi, Laudna,” Imogen’s voice sounds sheepish from Laudna’s phone.
Laudna scrambles for the receiver, sitting upright and slamming her knee into her desk so hard it rocks the bobble head Vilya got her for her birthday last year—it is a medium-sized Santa and she was insistent that Laudna wanted it. It is one of Laudna’s most precious items.
“Imogen,” Laudna breathes into the phone, eyes as wide as saucers surely. Fuck, maybe she shouldn’t have had that second coffee; her heart is going to beat out of her chest—
“Sorry to bother you,” Imogen says softly. “But I, uh, I think I messed up my email.” The following sigh is a touch embarrassed.
Laudna blinks owlishly, her brain speeding up and then slowing down in a reverb that vibrates her ears. “H-How,” she clears her throat roughly, shakes out her shoulders because truly get a fucking grip, “How did you do that?”
Imogen lets out a hum that carries a distinct guilty note. “I was just clickin’ shit—I mean stuff— sorry—uh, I think I clicked the wrong thing,” she says abashedly.
Laudna flicks Vilya’s bobble head just to expel the anxious press of frantic energy. “Alright,” she says slowly, heart pounding now. “I’ll be up in just a second.”
“Oh,” Imogen’s voice is a little louder now, surprise coloring her tone. “Okay. I’ll see you in a second then!”
God, what is Laudna fucking doing?
Two times in one month?
Her walk to the elevator is decidedly slower. There is no actual reason for her to go up to Imogen's office physically. She could just remote in and fix whatever is wrong without ever leaving the small sanctuary she built for herself.
Laudna presses the four on the elevator panel anyway.
This time, Laudna is not lucky enough to ride alone.
The elevator goes up one floor and then stops. She feels her body stiffen, eyes darting away as a grimace of what she hopes is a polite smile creases her lips, but thankfully whoever it is is content to ignore her anyway.
Laudna watches them stare down at their phone distractedly from the corner of her eye. She wonders if they feel it, too—the way the air in the elevator grows incredibly stifling, the silence an almost uncomfortable third body growing and growing and growing until—
The elevator dings and the person gets off, looking at Laudna as they go with a “Have a good day,” tossed easily over their shoulder.
The door closes on Laudna’s flustered and caught off guard response. “Uh, you, too.”
Fucking Christ. Now she exchanges pleasantries? This is a disaster. What is Imogen doing to her?
The accounting floor is quiet, just the tapping of keys and clunks of coffee mugs on desks and Laudna sneaks her way through the cubicles until she finds Gene’s old—well, Imogen’s office now.
Laudna knocks tentatively on the open door, heart rocketing around her chest at the sight of Imogen's intense frown as she busies herself with her computer screens. It eases away when she looks up and then—
“Your hair—" Imogen’s cheeks are bright red, her eyes wide and her lips parted softly as she stares at Laudna.
Laudna feels her flush creep all the way down her neck.
Her fingers reach for the short-cropped hair at the sides of her head, shorter than she normally does on her temples, but Laudna had the genius idea to let Vilya try and cut it over the weekend and she had somehow slipped the guard off and almost shaved Laudna’s hair down to her skin.
She doesn’t hate it honestly, especially after Vex evened it out and left a nice crop of fluff on top that doesn’t curl onto her forehead, but—is it—does she look okay? Vex was—sometimes Vex lies to her to protect her feelings and even Keyleth said she looked nice, but—
Imogen swallows very audibly in the pin-drop quietness of her office. “It looks real nice,” she says, like the words are sticking to the roof of her mouth. “You have a real sharp jawline,” she almost sighs the words out and then she stiffens up immediately after and her flush spreads up to her forehead and Laudna’s—
Laudna’s probably going to stop breathing. Fuck, she is already dizzy.
“Thanks,” Laudna says, voice strangled as she sucks in a deep breath of much-needed air. Her fingers fidget on the insides of her khakis and she pulls one hand out and gestures vaguely at Imogen’s desk, “What’s—Show me what’s going on?”
Imogen snaps to attention. “Right, yeah, sorry— I just—" she grumbles something to herself and Laudna can’t quite hear her with the pounding in her own ears, but she could swear she hears something about being hot? Maybe the central cooling is on the fritz again. It does feel warm in here.
Imogen plops into her chair, which creaks ominously, with a small adorable huff. She wiggles her mouse quite violently to wake her screen before she gestures vaguely at her email app hanging out on her right side monitor. “It’s all little.” She sounds incredibly distressed about it, too, and Laudna feels a smile crease her lips.
Easy-peasy fix. Won’t take more than two clicks, honestly.
“Do you mind if I—" Laudna gestures vaguely at her mouse.
Imogen jolts, chair scooting to the left to give Laudna a little more space. “Yeah—Of course—please do, it’s startin’ to piss me—I mean—frustrate me,” she says her last words slowly and when Laudna’s eyes dart over to her she’s got an incredibly innocent smile on her face even if it seems a little strained.
Adorable. Laudna wants to know every little idiosyncrasy about her.
“Because you should be wearing glasses?” Laudna says softly, trying the joke on for size.
Imogen’s shoulders relax, a wry smile on her face, but the gray of her eyes practically sparkle in mirth. “My eyes work alright enough,” she says, her lips twitching into a small pout.
“Allegedly,” Laudna says around a hum. It takes two clicks indeed to restore Imogen’s email to the proper view sizing.
“How the fuck—" Imogen cuts herself off abruptly, cheeks flushing red again. “Please don’t tell my boss—“
“That you have a potty mouth?”
Imogen’s lips purse and her eyes widen beseechingly and Laudna feels her mouth curl into a grin.
“Your secret is safe with me,” Laudna tells her and maybe she says it just a little too softly for the moment, but her words are honest. Imogen could rob the company blind and Laudna would not utter a peep. Imogen probably has good reason for whatever she does. She seems very—
“I knew I liked you,” Imogen jokes, then her face immediately flushes red. And because Laudna takes a second to register her words, Laudna's face erupts into a delayed blush two seconds later.
Laudna stands up straight, hand rubbing at the short hairs at the back of her neck just to have something to fidget with. “Is there—Is there anything else you need?”
Imogen studiously avoids her eyes. "Nope, that was, uh, thank you very much," she says, her voice edging incredibly high and nasally.
Laudna practically bolts out of her office.
Laudna’s not counting the number of days since the last time she saw or heard from Imogen.
She’s not.
But if she was, it would be six entire business days, eight if you count the weekend and Laudna is seriously considering heading to the fourth floor in a way that is absolutely insane and out of character.
Laudna feels guilty about her plan for all of fifteen minutes, her finger hovering over her mouse in indecision, before her own selfish desire wins out.
It takes thirty painstaking minutes before Laudna’s office phone rings.
“IT,” Laudna chirps.
“Hey, Laudna,” Imogen’s voice is undoubtedly wary and Laudna almost feels a flicker of remorse, “Do you think you could come look at my computer? All of my little— All of my little icons are gone—" she still sounds a little breathless in surprise and Laudna hums in sympathy.
“No worries, Imogen, I’ll head up now.”
“Thanks, I really don’t—they were there a second ago, I swear.”
Laudna believes her. It only took her two seconds to hide them all to begin with. Any guilty feelings vanish away on the elevator ride up, gnawed up by the almost anxious anticipation of seeing Imogen again.
Imogen is already up and out of her desk chair when Laudna crosses the threshold into her office. She's wearing a dress today, black and form-fitting with a tiny white belt wrapped around her midriff like a present ready to be unwrapped.
Laudna exhales a sharp breath to steady herself and tries to drag her eyes up to Imogen's face so she doesn't appear impolite. She fails. It should be illegal to have curves like that. "Hello, Imogen," she tries to sound normal and estimates she only half succeeds.
Imogen's arms are crossed over her chest as she leans back against the counter of the full wall bookshelf cabinet conglomeration taking up the entirety of the back wall of her office. "I think I might be cursed," she says flatly.
Laudna looks at her face then, feels her brain ooze out of her ears when she sees—"Glasses."
Imogen lets out a shy laugh, her fingers reaching up to fiddle with the sleek wire-framed lenses covering her eyes. "Told you my eyes were bad, didn't I?" She looks up at Laudna through her lashes and Laudna lets out a strangled breath and pinches her thighs through her pockets so she doesn't pass away.
Laudna blinks and then blinks again and then blinks one more time when Imogen's cheeks start to darken. "You said—" she clears her throat roughly, tries to swim through the muddled chant of hot hot hot hot hot looping in her brain, "You said 'they worked fine enough' last time." She hopes her smile isn't as wobbly as her knees feel.
Imogen's lips curve into something that could be a smirk, her arms uncrossing and shifting to catch her body weight as she leans a little further onto the desk. Her booted heel crosses over her ankle as she passes her tongue across her teeth.
Laudna is going to pass away. Her body will keel over any moment.
"Remember that did you?" Imogen's voice is teasing, almost coquettish.
Laudna can feel sweat dampening at the back of her neck. "I remember a lot of things," she says without really thinking about.
Imogen lets out a small hum of intrigue, "Well, isn't that fun, so do I." She leans onto one palm and Laudna feels a little shameful at the way her eyes track the sway of Imogen's breasts as her weight tilts to one side. She gestures vaguely at Laudna's chest, "I like your new lanyard."
One of Laudna's hands slips from her pocket to tug at the new lanyard indeed. "My niece got it for me," she admits freely. It was an apology gift for almost skinning Laudna's head. It is Minecraft themed. Laudna loves it. Vilya said the creeper reminded her of Laudna. Laudna likes to assume it is the height and nothing else.
Imogen softens immediately and Laudna swears she can see the way her eyes go a little rounder, her shoulders sagging. Her brain supplies the 'aww' drawled in Imogen's lilting accents all on its own.
"That's sweet," Imogen tells her with a close-lipped smile and then Laudna watches her throat bob before she asks, "Do you have a lot of them?"
"Nieces?" Laudna double-checks, momentarily distracted again when Imogen's weight shifts back onto two hands and her forearms flex.
Imogen nods quickly.
"Two nieces," Laudna supplies, smiling on instinct as she hears their shrieking chaos and imagines their beaming baby grins. "One nephew, one undetermined." It's quite frankly the most she has ever shared with anyone in this building. Even her interactions with Zhudanna remain mostly superficial and work-related, despite the familiar teasing.
The smile on Imogen's face is wistful, "That sounds real nice."
"It is," Laudna agrees, her fingers tugging on the lanyard around her neck once more before her hands find her pockets again.
There is a beat of silence, comfortable even, and then Imogen's eyes widen to almost saucers, her posture stiffening enough to make Laudna shift on her feet in alarm.
"I'm so sorry," Imogen blurts out. "You—shit—" she gestures at the computer meaningfully and Laudna jolts into action, feels her face flood with heat because she came up here for a reason—even if Laudna manufactured the reason to begin with—God, she had already forgotten—she still needs to her job—
"I shouldn't have distracted you," Imogen says in a contrite little whisper. "Askin' you personal questions and stuff." Her fingers ring nervously in front of her belly and Laudna stops just before she settles into Imogen's desk chair. "You're probably so busy," she says around a sigh that sounds a little breathless, her eyes doing a head to toe sweep of Laudna's body so fast Laudna isn't sure it's not imagined.
"It's alright," Laudna says in a voice much calmer than the fluster roiling in her belly and chest dictate. "You can ask me anything you want."
Imogen's smile is bashful at best, the precious gap between her teeth on display again, "Yeah?"
Laudna nods empathically.
"Horrible decision on your part," Imogen says around a sheepish laugh, the apples of her cheeks still tinged pink. "I'm pretty nosy."
Laudna has to sit in her desk chair then because the wobble in her knees at Imogen's laugh does take her out. She turns to Imogen's computer and jiggles the mouse to wake it. The little screen with Imogen Temult and her sign in box comes up immediately. "Password?"
"Oh here let me just—s'kinda long—"
Laudna feels every muscle in her body tighten into a stone like stillness and feels every hair on her body stand on end when two slender arms bracket across her shoulders to reach for the keyboard in front of Laudna. She isn't even sure she remembers how to breathe.
Imogen's breath is steady against the shell of her ear, warmth radiating off her in a way Laudna can feel. Laudna's mouth almost salivates at her so close, at the soft scent of lavender and something citrusy infusing Laudna's nose.
Imogen taps the enter key and then her arms slide back, brushing against Laudna's shoulder so briefly and yet—
Laudna pulls at her shirt and forces her mouth to swallow. Fuck, is it hot in here or is it just—
Imogen gestures at her computer again, a pointed jab with her hand, "See! They're all gone!" The audible pout in her voice has a smile tugging at Laudna's lips. She decides then and there that there truly is not a thing she wouldn't do to see Imogen Temult. Sabotage is only the minimum.
Laudna lets out a considering hum. "Yes, I see," she says like this is something grave. She hears the way Imogen shifts behind her.
"Did I fuck it up?" Imogen whispers like she is wincing through her words.
Laudna softens considerably. She turns in the chair so she can offer Imogen a reassuring smile. Laudna takes it back; she would certainly not make Imogen feel guilty for something Laudna herself did. "No," she says earnestly. "Windows sucks," she adds, and then she right-clicks on Imogen's desktop to reveal all her icons once more.
Imogen lets out a triumphant noise. "You're so quick!" she says in genuine awe.
Laudna feels heat descend over her ears. She rises from Imogen's chair slowly. "It's an easy fix," she says sheepishly, maybe a little embarrassed by her own scheming, but it fizzles away in a pop and becomes her best idea to date when Imogen reaches for her.
Imogen's fingers barely graze the outside of Laudna's wrist, but Laudna feels the touch burn into her flesh. "Thank you, Laudna," she says sincerely and then that same hand is reaching out to yank playfully at her gifted lanyard with a wonderfully beautiful smile on her face.
Laudna rides the high of that interaction for four entire days.
Laudna gets a little needy in the middle of a Wednesday the week following her theft of all of Imogen's icons, and she is still a little embarrassed about resorting to such an act, but it had yielded such sweet fruit the first time.
Laudna doesn't even feel guilt when she locks Imogen's computer account. She won't be able to sign in once she notices and Laudna can't actually go up to the fourth floor this time with the way she’s running a series of reports and can’t actually leave the task of babysitting but—
A phone call would suffice. Just a quick fix and Laudna could get back to her job unimpeded. Maybe even with a little pep in her metaphorical step.
It takes seven agonizing minutes before Imogen notices.
The phone rings like clockwork and Laudna picks it up with a particularly cheerful, "IT."
"Laudna," Imogen's teeth already sound like their clenched tight and Laudna feels a sharp tug in her belly at the sound. "This—" she lowers her voice into a harsh whisper, "—fucking computer—" normal volume again, "—hates me."
Laudna sucks her lips into her mouth to keep from laughing outright. "I'm sure that's not true, darling," she says playfully. After all, the computer is kind of an extension of Laudna at this point and Laudna is increasingly fond of Imogen.
Imogen stutters around a sound Laudna can't quite place before— "I can't sign in. Says, uh, 'your account is locked please contact your administrator,’" she reads off in a perfect monotone drawl.
Laudna wishes she could see her face so very badly, but the mental image of Imogen with her hand pressed to her forehead in exasperation, her desk phone cradled between ear and shoulder, would have to do for now.
"Well, luckily for you I am, in fact, your administrator," Laudna says and she taps her keys at random, pretends like she doesn't already have Imogen's account pulled up and the glaring 'unlock' button looking right at her. "It'll take just a second," she says and then, "So, how's your day going?"
Imogen huffs a little laugh and Laudna thinks she hears her chair squeak like Imogen is leaning back into it. "Oh, you know," she says vaguely, but amicably, "Numbers and emails and emails and numbers. How 'bout you?"
"Very much the same," Laudna says with a short laugh. "Maybe a little bit of tinkering to keep my mind sharp."
Imogen lets out a hum of intrigue and Laudna wonders if she is twirling a lock of her hair around her finger like Laudna imagines.
(She is.)
"Do you get to work with your hands a lot?" Imogen asks in a fast blurt, like the question falls out before she can censor herself.
Laudna presses more keys at random. "Sometimes," she answers, "but not very often here. I do woodworking at home."
There is nothing but silence on the other end for so long that Laudna looks briefly at her phone with a frown to make sure it's even still connected. The timer continues to run on their phone call.
"Imogen?"
"Sorry—" Imogen squeaks abruptly, clearing her throat roughly like there is something lodged in it. "Sorry—I was—your hands are probably, like, really strong, huh?"
Laudna lifts her hands from her keyboard, surveys them with a furrowed brow as she flips them palm up once and then back over again. She thinks her fingers are kind of long, can see her bones protruding, but doesn't think them particularly special.
"I think they are normal strength," Laudna says demurely.
Imogen lets out a laugh that is shaky at best, "Right, 'course, that was—that was a weird thing to ask. Sorry."
Laudna almost balks. "Imogen," she says just shy of firm. "We already talked about this, remember? You can ask me whatever you want."
"Yeah," Imogen says around a relieved sigh. "Yeah, you did say that."
Laudna takes mercy on her and finally unlocks the account despite wishing she could extend this call somehow. The last thing she wants is for Imogen to think she’s incompetent. "You should be okay to sign in now, Imogen."
Laudna hears the clacking of keys in a fast staccato and then Imogen is letting out a small noise in affirmation.
"That worked," Imogen confirms and her voice is exceptionally soft as she says, "Thanks a bunch, Laudna, you're a lifesaver."
"You're very welcome, Imogen."
There is no reason to remain on the phone for any longer, but Laudna does not hang up and Imogen doesn't either. It isn't until her phone signals another incoming call that Laudna regretfully has to end it.
"I have another call coming in—"
"Shit, right, sorry—I'm always keepin'—Okay, bye, Laudna, thank you again—" and then the phone cuts out.
Laudna feels a particular mournful tune echo in her head as she accepts the next call. "IT," she says miserably.
"Laudna!" Chetney from purchasing barks down the phone. "I can't get into my damn account," he says in a shrill old man voice that normally brings Laudna great amusement, but now only barely twitches her lips.
"Do you want me to reset the password or do you want me to stay on the phone with you while you enter it very slowly?" Laudna drawls, clicking out of Imogen's profile and into Chetney's with ease. She pulls up a small info tab and sighs at the fact he has entered his password wrong twelve times already.
Chetney lets out a small dubious hum, "Better reset it, can never remember the damn thing."
The next time Imogen reaches out to her, it’s not by phone, but through Teams.
Laudna has already packed up her things for the day. She isn't doing anything other than watching the clock tick closer to 5 p.m. while she whittles idly at a piece of wood. She isn't sure what she wants it to be yet, but her hands move like they already know without her. The chime of her messenger startles her into almost whittling a piece of her skin off.
Her head turns in the direction of her computer, idling with the way Laudna has not touched the keyboard in ages. Her eyes almost bug out of their head when she sees the flash of Imogen Temult on her screen. She rips her crossed legs off of her desk to sit upright and almost swipes her monitor and bobble head straight to the ground in her haste.
Imogen Temult 4:37pm
are you still in office?
Laudna Vessar 4:37pm
yes
Imogen Temult 4:38pm
can you come up here?
i would have called but i'm on a conference call with Emon
please please please
Laudna Vessar 4:38pm
be right there
She leaves her chair swinging with how fast she moves. She cannot know with any certainty, of course, because tone is often lost with written communication, but her gut tells her Imogen is panicked and so Laudna does not wait for the elevator.
Laudna is sweaty by the time she makes it to the fourth floor, but her gut is correct with the way she can see Imogen pacing at a run inside her office already.
Imogen waves her in quickly, her eyes large enough that Laudna can see the edges of her contact lens. She reaches for Laudna's wrist with both her hands, "I'm next to present and I can't open the fuckin' document. Help me." It's the first time Laudna has ever truly seen distress and Laudna locks the fuck in.
The conference call continues on speaker as Laudna slides herself into Imogen's desk chair.
"Every time I open it, it crashes," Imogen whines, both hands running through her hair in an anxious flurry of movement.
"Okay," Laudna says soothingly, "Just give me a second—"
The conference call moves quickly to another analyst and Imogen lets out a low whine of distress. "Laudna," she says urgently.
"I know, darling," Laudna says soothingly, even with her heart beating a little quicker beneath her skin. Her brain moves a mile a minute as she tries to work through this quickly for Imogen's sake. The first two tricks do not work and Laudna is worried for a second that she will have to uninstall Office entirely—a process way too lengthy for the way anxiety rolls of Imogen in waves.
Small mercies must still exist because the document pops open and Imogen barely gets to breathe a sigh of relief before—
"And Miss Temult? What have your reports found?"
Laudna tries to scramble away from her desk chair so she can sit, but Imogen's hand presses against Laudna's shoulder to guide her back down gently. When Laudna looks at her in surprise, Imogen's face flexes into something pleading. "Stay," she commands and then, "please."
Laudna does not move an inch.
Imogen clicks the phone off of mute, one of her hands resting flat on the desk and the other holding the back of the chair. When she speaks, there is not a trace of worry anywhere to be found. She launches into the spiel about her report, telling Laudna when to scroll the document with a vague gesture of her hand that Laudna obeys without thought.
Laudna knows she likes women. She knows she likes smart women. She definitely likes confident women. Two of those things together are lethal alone, but Imogen?
Imogen is all of those things with a lovely commanding undertone. Laudna is sweating for an entirely different reason by the time Imogen's report is done and she's fielding questions. The call goes well past 5 p.m., but Laudna does not move a muscle. She does not want to be anywhere that is not right here listening to Imogen use phrases like: "In the company’s best interest," and "with my experience," and "—unmitigated windfall—"
It's wrapped up quickly and Imogen's posture sags the moment the red light of an active call blinks into nothing.
"Fuck me," Imogen grumbles, her hand running through her hair again. "That was almost a disaster."
Laudna's lips part open, a strangled breath and no words falling out because she can't decide on fluffing Imogen's ego with compliments or asking Imogen to marry her. She doesn't get to do either because, to her absolute horror, her belly lets out a tiny rumble of hunger. It sounds like a ravenous roar in the quietness of Imogen's office.
Imogen's head turns to her abruptly, surprise raising her eyebrows.
Laudna flushes at the ears and all the way down her neck. "Sorry," she says in absolute humiliation, "I skipped lunch."
Imogen's brows tightens for a moment, something like realization on her face, and then she's blurting out, "Can I buy you dinner?" like it’s just as autonomic as Laudna's stomach.
They stare at each other in surprise and Laudna is sure Imogen's going to take it back with the way even her neck splotches red. Only she doesn't. She stares back at Laudna expectantly and Laudna isn't sure whose voice says, "Yes, that would be lovely," but she supposes it’s hers with the way Imogen grins wide enough to show all her teeth and squint her eyes.
Laudna feels sweat collecting beneath her arms as she waits for Imogen to arrive. It shouldn't be very long, they left at the same time after all, but Laudna wonders for a fleeting moment if Imogen has changed her mind. There would be no way for her to tell Laudna since they don't have each other’s numbers.
It would not be the first time Laudna has been stood up and even the idea that Imogen could have turned around and gone home with Laudna none the wiser has something like dread rippling deep in the pits of her stomach. Imogen did not seem the type, but Laudna has been wrong before.
She doesn't get a chance to spiral too deeply into her worry when Imogen's tiny white sedan pulls up next to Laudna's Jeep. Imogen offers her a too-enthusiastic wave and almost rolls into the parking spot in front of her for her trouble. Laudna offers her a shaky thumbs-up when she has to reverse a little to get back within the painted lines.
Laudna is not sure who blushes deeper.
They walk up to the small diner together and Laudna makes sure to use the span of her arm length to her advantage to hold the door open for Imogen. The pleased little smile on Imogen's face as she presses a little closer than is strictly necessary to enter beneath it sears into Laudna's brain forever.
Laudna expects it to be awkward with the work setting firmly several miles behind them, but Imogen doesn't show any signs of discomfort, so Laudna tries not to either. She wonders if Imogen has been here before with the way her eyes feast on the menu, the way she chews her lip in thought—
"You know what you're gettin'?" Imogen asks and then her eyes find Laudna's and the steely gray-blue feels like a lightning strike straight to her heart.
It is criminal to look that good against a shitty diner background. Rude and uncalled for and Laudna is going to think about her for the rest of her life.
"Yes," Laudna says and then she tries not to fidget under Imogen's stare. "Would you like a recommendation?"
Imogen's eyes widen in delight, the precious gap between her teeth on display as she smiles, "Absolutely."
"Any allergies? Aversions?" Laudna asks, her eyes drifting to the menu as a slew of suggestions pop into her head. It is still early enough that Laudna is unconcerned with offering up one of the heavier options.
She looks up at Imogen after a beat of silence and thinks Imogen's smile might be particularly rakish as she says, "No, I'll eat just about anything."
Laudna feels her ears heat at the implication. Her hand points at the menu, a necessary distraction from the imagery of Imogen eating—"I think you would like this," Laudna says quickly. It's a classic bacon cheeseburger with all the fixings and something tells her Imogen will quite like it.
Imogen does not glance at Laudna's suggestion, only says, "Okay, I trust you," and the pleasant buzz of that warms Laudna from head to toe.
Imogen leans back in the booth after they've placed their orders, shifts like she is crossing one leg over the other and surveys Laudna with a supreme kind of interest. "So, where did you go to college?"
Ah, the dreaded pleasantries. Laudna is awful at these. She never has interesting enough stories and always feels her life a bore in comparison to peers. Sometimes she forgets to ask the right questions and sometimes she goes on tangents about things of little interest to the opposite party. She does not think she would be able to stomach it if this meal goes poorly.
"Whitestone University," Laudna tells her demurely, a little embarrassed at the way Imogen's eyes widen.
"Prestigious," Imogen says, and then with a half-smirk that boils Laudna from the inside out, she adds, "Makes sense. You're, like, real smart."
Laudna fidgets with her straw wrapper until it is wound in the tiniest tightest ball. It’s probably a mirror of the nervousness coiling in her belly. God, Vex'ahlia is hardly going to believe Laudna has actually gone out with someone. Even if it isn't strictly expressed as a date.
"I'm just good with computers," Laudna refutes and she shifts in her seat, leaning forward as she realizes she gets to ask Imogen questions, too. She tries not to look as eager as she feels, thinks she might fail when Imogen regards her with a soft smile and knowing eyes. "What about you? Where did you go? A senior accountant at twenty-six is quite impressive, you know."
Imogen's smile deepens, a dark blonde brow raising in question. "Yeah? How'd you know I was twenty-six?" she asks with a tone that could border on smug if Laudna wasn't about to keel over and die.
The truth is she looked at Imogen's employee file. Not in a creepy way, of course. She would never use the information for anything untoward or than embarrassing herself apparently, but she was just so curious. The file was right at her disposal.
"We have a birthday calendar," Laudna says quickly. "Company wide. I—I manage it." There is absolutely no such thing. In fact, Laudna could not think of anything worse than a constant bombardment of birthday reminders for people she does not give a single second thought about. Or a first one either.
"Uh huh," Imogen's mouth is still curved in that damn half-smirk and Laudna has to look away for her own sanity. "I went to Emon," she answers anyway, seemingly letting Laudna off the hook unscathed.
Laudna tries not to sip her water too fast to portray her truly worrisome amount of nerves.
"If I'm real honest," Imogen tells her in an almost conspiratorial tone. "I only really cared about partyin' those first couple semesters."
Laudna's eyes widen, "Really?" and oh, isn't that a delicious piece of information she wouldn't be able to find in an employee file. Imogen doesn't look it— well, maybe not at first glance with the soft countenance and general good-girl aura.
Laudna is starting to think it a ruse. Maybe Imogen is the type to consume another person alive. Laudna longs to be digested by her pretty pearly white teeth.
Imogen shrugs sheepishly. "I'm from a small town," she says in mild defense. "Goin' to Emon was like a culture shock, like lettin' a kid loose in a candy store." She seems entirely unrepentant about this. "Plus finance majors?" she blows a sharp raspberry. "No one parties harder."
Laudna leans her chin on her palm, utterly fascinated by this tiny woman and her electric eyes and all her undiscovered pieces. "What small town?"
"Gelvaan," Imogen says around a grimace, portraying exactly what she thinks about her hometown. "Did you grow up in Whitestone?" she asks around a curious little smile.
"Yes," Laudna tells her, smiling faintly and then her lips twitch into something much softer. "I enjoyed it for the most part, even if it was a little lonely. There's an age gap, you see, between me and my siblings. They went away and I stayed."
"Couldn't imagine," Imogen says in gentle understanding. "I was an only child."
Well, that sounds horribly lonely in its own way.
"So, you understand an empty home," Laudna realizes.
There is a familiar kind of shadow around Imogen's eyes as she smiles sadly and says, "I sure do."
They talk about lighter things after that. They talk about nothing and everything until the restaurant is set to close and Laudna can't believe it's already so late. She can't believe that she has spent this long in another person's company who is not blood-related to her.
"Ah, shit," Imogen grumbles when she realizes the time. She'd started to slouch over in the booth and now she sits up straight again. She fishes into her purse and pulls out several bills to toss onto the table. "Sorry, Laud, I didn't mean to keep you. You probably got someone back home waitin' on—"
"I don't," Laudna cuts in quickly, her voice maybe a little too loud. She feels the flush creep up her neck almost instantaneously. "There's no—There's no one waiting for me. It's fine. I had a lovely time." The only thing waiting for Laudna back at home is Pâté and Laudna already scheduled a last-minute dog walker to take him out the first time she ducked off to the bathroom.
Imogen stares at her in wide-eyed surprise and then a slow smile blooms across her lips. "Alright," she says softly, something a little anticipatory under her tone. "Me either," she adds quickly.
Laudna swallows nervously. "That's good," she says reflexively until she realizes how that might come across. "I mean—not that it's good that you're alone. Unless you like being alone! Which—nothing wrong with that! I like space myself, you see, it's comforting! I only meant—I only meant—" she is not quite sure what she meant.
That's a lie. She meant good in the sense that Imogen could hang out with her for longer if they both wish it, or even—Laudna thinks with a blood humming thrill—hang out again at a later date.
Despite Imogen's face being fire engine red, she smiles at Laudna sweetly. "I got it, Laud," she says around a short laugh.
"Right," Laudna trails off weakly. She is sure that’s far from the truth.
"Can I walk you to your car?" Imogen asks after a moment of hesitant silence. The restaurant is already set to close, Imogen has already paid, and yet neither of them have made a move to actually get up.
"We parked next to each other," Laudna reminds her, faintly amused.
Imogen's smile only widens, "So, let me walk you anyway."
Laudna can hardly disagree.
They wind up getting dinner the rest of the entire week and Laudna gorges herself on all the things she learns of Imogen as much as she does all the lovely food.
She learns that Imogen had a horse in her youth.
"I wanted one so bad," Imogen tells her, her eyes a little lost in the thought. "I cried like a fuckin' baby when she died," she informs and Laudna feels her heart break a little when Imogen's eyes shimmer with tears.
Laudna reaches for her hand across the table and Imogen accepts it immediately. "What kind of horse was she?"
Imogen sniffles, her smile loaded with grief. "A palomino."
"I'm sure she was lovely and I'm very sorry for your loss," Laudna tells her earnestly and Imogen squeezes her hand even as her lower lip trembles.
She learns that one time Imogen got so drunk at a party she fell asleep on a roof and got a sunburn.
"I don't drink vodka anymore," Imogen tells her with a flush on her cheeks. She pushes her glasses up her nose sheepishly. "Or smoke weed while I drink."
She is embarrassed about this account, but Laudna feels like her brain chugs to a halt at the bad girl Imogen it paints for her. She did not think Imogen could get hotter and yet—
She learns that Imogen really isn't a picky eater at all and doesn't even have an aversion to spice.
"You're going to burn your taste buds off," Laudna says without thinking as she watches Imogen upend way too much hot sauce onto her burger.
Imogen's eyes practically sparkle as she looks up at Laudna. "I like when it hurts a little."
Laudna promptly chokes on her own tongue and does not mention it again.
She learns that Imogen really does like her job, really does enjoy numbers in the same way Laudna likes computers.
"And so I was telling him, you gotta calculate it without the damn computer sometimes," Imogen is lamenting and Laudna has lost track of who has said what because Imogen's eyes are particularly wide and her hands fly around as she explains. She watches Imogen intently with her chin held aloft in her palm and a serene smile on her face. "Just you and the numbers, ya know."
She learns that Imogen is more unguarded outside of work.
Imogen's elbows lean on the table as she regards Laudna seriously. "I'm so fuckin' hungry, I could eat a whole cow and then the cow that birthed it, too," she says apropos of nothing.
Laudna feels a laugh bubble up her throat. "Did you skip lunch again, darling?"
Imogen heaves a big breath, her arms crossing over her chest in a perfect display of petulance. "Maybe," her smile grows a little impish as she leans back against the booth. "You gonna tell on me if I say yes?"
"If I haven't by now," Laudna drawls slowly, and Imogen bursts into a carefree little laugh that warms Laudna from head to toe.
Imogen is also good at learning things about Laudna in turn or rather extracting information out of Laudna like she is the only one with the manual to Laudna's brain.
She tells Imogen about falling into her current role without leaving a single thing out.
"So, now I just run everything," Laudna is acutely aware of motor-mouthing her way through answering Imogen's question and she tries not to sweat at the realization that she probably could have dialed back a few of the parts—
"Holy shit, Laudna," Imogen's eyes are wide in awe, her lips parted open in surprise. "You just—without even—do you know how fuckin' smart you are?" The genuine tone of Imogen's voice and the serious slant to her brow has Laudna flushing down to her chest.
"Imogen—"
"No seriously, Laud. You think right place, right time to land the job, sure fine whatever, but to actually do it—successfully, too! Jesus—" Imogen keeps her wide eyes on Laudna even as she leans back in the booth. "Didn't know I was gettin' dinner with a genius. You think it'll rub off on me?" She smiles at Laudna then, a smirk curling the corner of her lips and a decidedly mischievous look on her face.
Laudna is too flustered to come up with an answer.
She tells Imogen about Pâté.
"He's my soulmate," Laudna says seriously. She almost pulls out her phone to show Imogen a picture before thinking better of it with the way both their hands are covered in barbecue grease.
Imogen nods just as seriously with sauce smeared across her upper cheek.
"I bought my house because I knew he would like the backyard," Laudna goes on. "I even built him a food station set to his height so he doesn't have to strain his neck. He's my best friend." She has run into weird stares about it before. She has watched people balk at the time and effort she lends Pâté, the way Laudna centers her days around him and not the other way around. She shouldn't be surprised at the way Imogen only smiles at her softly.
Imogen's shoe taps softly against Laudna's shin to make up for the way she can't reach across with her meat-covered fingers. "Don't make me jealous of your dog," she says around a mock pout. "Unless you make me a feeding station, too."
"Maybe," Laudna says teasingly, growing more comfortable with it now. "I could make it three-feet tall? Maybe four if I'm being generous."
Imogen guffaws a laugh, her shoe stabbing a little harder at Laudna's shin. "Dick," she mutters affectionately. "Sorry I'm not a six-foot-tall god—"
"I'm not six feet tall!"
"Tell that to my neck!"
She tells Imogen about her brother.
"It was really sudden," Laudna says and the press of pain is still there and the gloss covers her eyes, but she focuses on Imogen's thumb rubbing over the back of her knuckles and not a single tear falls. "We didn't—we thought he was just running late. It took two entire days before anyone showed up to tell us. Vex knew though—they were—they were twins." It's been years since Vax'ildan's accident and Laudna can still imagine the haunted, pained look in Vex'ahlia's eyes like it was yesterday.
"I'm so sorry, Laudna," Imogen's voice is a little thicker, her fingers gripping tighter to Laudna's hand. She means her words with all the weight of a kindred spirit in loss. Laudna has been told sorry more times than she can count and she has never quite felt it like she does with Imogen.
There is a gentle silence after, until Imogen's hand squeezes hers again.
"When my mama died, I was really angry," Imogen tells her, but when Laudna looks at her, her gaze is rooted to their linked hands. "It took me a while to realize I didn't have to be okay about it. 'Cause it fuckin' sucks and it's not fair and you're allowed to be pissed about it. If you ever need someone to not be okay with, I'm always here for you."
Laudna is not sure where Imogen Temult has come from, but it’s hard to think her brother has not guided them right together. She squeezes Imogen's hand tightly. "Thank you," she says, and only hopes it carries all the weight it means to her.
Most of all, she learns that Imogen is as gorgeous on the inside as she is on the outside and Laudna thinks it's inevitable really that she falls in love.
Late Monday afternoon rolls around the following week and with it disaster.
"Hey," Imogen says as she flounces into Laudna's office with familiarity, an easy-going grin on her face that makes her look particularly youthful. "I was thinkin' pizza tonight. That place we saw a few days ago is runnin' a deal and I'm in the mood for—"
Laudna's face must do a thing with the way Imogen's excitement fizzles and her words trail off into something a little more unsure.
"Do you—do you not want pizza?" Imogen asks quietly, her eyes zeroing in on Laudna's face.
"I can't tonight," Laudna says hesitantly and though Imogen tries to recover quickly, Laudna still watches her face crumble in disappointment. Imogen takes a quick step backwards, her fingers knotting in front of her belly like a child being scolded for speaking out of turn.
"No worries," Imogen says around a strained smile. "You—that's fine—I should have—it's cool," she says, but even Laudna, who sometimes gets confused on certain behaviors and word combinations, can tell that it is very much not cool.
Laudna rises from her desk chair slowly, extends her hand and feels her belly flutter in a riot of butterflies when Imogen laces their fingers with no hesitation. She still looks incredibly disappointed, but she still manages to offer Laudna a smile. The way it is so threadbare, how it doesn't shimmer in her eyes, almost makes Laudna want to bring her along.
A truly ludicrous idea for more than one reason.
"Monday night is family dinner," Laudna tells her softly. "With my nieces and nephew. I never miss it." She fell asleep at her desk once, had woken to her cellphone buzzing insistently in her pocket from Vex'ahlia calling and the stricken panic in her voice as she demanded to know Laudna was okay. Well, Laudna had not made the same mistake again.
Imogen's face flexes into something like relief before it smooths away quickly into soft understanding. She smiles at Laudna like she is the most precious thing and tugs at Laudna's lanyard fondly. "Tomorrow then?" she questions shyly, looking up at Laudna through impossibly long lashes.
"Tomorrow," Laudna promises, squeezing Imogen's hand in a reassuring pulse.
"Is dinner not to your liking, little sister?"
Laudna jolts minutely at the sound of her sister's voice. Her tone is a touch teasing, but when Laudna looks up from the shredded, unconsumed remains of her dinner, there is a concern tightening her sister's brow.
"What?" Laudna asks ineloquently.
"No dessert for Auntie Lala," Vilya sing-songs and Laudna tries not to balk considering she's a child and doesn't get to tell Laudna what to do. She's also holding her spoon wrong. So.
Vex'ahlia's lips part into a grin that borders on smug. "That is the rule. No dessert if you don't finish dinner." Her brow raises briefly like this will somehow goad Laudna into finishing her food. Laudna lost her appetite watching Imogen's car pull out of the parking lot without Laudna following and has not returned since.
Keyleth turns her head in Laudna's direction from where she is wiping at the cheeks of their messy little boy. "You can have dessert if you want, Laudna," she says with a fond roll of her eyes. "Don't listen to them."
"But really, darling," Vex'ahlia chimes back in and this time the playfulness has receded from her face. Her eyes narrow as she stares back at Laudna in a way that makes her knee jangle beneath the table and her skin prickle with unease. She has always been so fucking good at pulling things out of Laudna without Laudna realizing. It’s annoying. It’s sometimes liberating. "Is something the matter?"
Keyleth's eyes fall on her, too, and something about the way there is genuine concern, an attentiveness to whatever Laudna is willing to offer up, makes Laudna feel like she's fit to burst any moment.
They won't push, not if she doesn't want them to, but maybe it would do her some good to share. She has barely eaten her food with the way thoughts of Imogen crest and ebb in her mind. She thinks she might be in love and the feeling is so large she feels like she will buckle under its weight.
"How do you know you're in love?" Laudna blurts instead of answering their question or assuring them that she is alright. She isn't sure that she is. Not having dinner with Imogen makes her feel a little hollow inside and for the first time in forever she is anxious to get home so she can go to sleep just to see Imogen again tomorrow.
Vex'ahlia immediately chokes on her next bite of food and Keyleth is quick to turn to her and beat between her shoulder blades until Vex'ahlia regains her breath.
Laudna waits expectantly.
"Why in God's name would you ask that?" Vex'ahlia grinds out around a raspy voice.
Laudna blinks, her shoulders hunching forward. "Are you not in love? A qualified expert in the matter? Why wouldn't I ask you?" Her sister had been married to Keyleth for years now. They are the only reason Laudna believes that there truly is a partner meant for you. Keyleth softens all of Vex'ahlia's hard edges and Vex'ahlia is a marvel at firming up Keyleth's backbone. They are a lovely pair. Maybe Laudna wants that for herself now.
Vex'ahlia blinks slowly. "That's not what I—I'm hardly an expert," she tries for demure in a way that doesn't suit her, but is genuine with the way her cheeks grow a little darker. She immediately turns to her wife for rescue.
Keyleth looks back at her in slight exasperation. "But you know what being in love is like, don't you?" The pointed edge of her tone only flusters Vex'ahlia further and Laudna gobbles up the interaction with vigor.
"Of course I do, Kiki," Vex'ahlia says softly, her eyes exceptionally moony and large. Laudna wonders briefly if this is how she looks at Imogen. How embarrassing. "I've never loved anyone as much as you."
Keyleth's cheeks rouge at the centers, taking away her freckles along with it. "Sweet talker," she mutters, but her attention is drawn away to their son again when he squawks and reaches for Keyleth with dirty fingers. "It's different for everyone," she says to both of them. "Tell her how you knew, Vex, and then I'll tell her how I knew."
Vex'ahlia looks momentarily put out before she shakes it off. She looks back at Laudna then, a glare tightening her brows and a familiar 'if you repeat this you'll regret it' look about her face that has Laudna straightening up on instinct.
"I knew I was in love when I didn't want to f—" Vex'ahlia cuts off abruptly with a grunt and Laudna doesn't know what Keyleth hits her with, only that she does it without turning away from their son or using her arms. The look on Vex'ahlia's face is petulant at best. "I knew I was in love when I only wanted to have—" her eyes cut briefly to Vilya and then back to Laudna— "sleepovers with Keyleth."
Laudna blinks. She tries to imagine Imogen sleeping in the same bed as her and is a little horrified at the way her face heats to almost inferno proportions. She's never shared a bed with anyone, not in the way Vex actually means, and the realization that she wants to with Imogen—
Laudna clears her throat roughly. "Unsurprising," she says flatly to save face. "I think you were the last person to figure that out."
Keyleth lets out a rumble of laughter at Vex'ahlia's expense. It's remarkable the way Vex'ahlia and Vilya look the exact replica as they pout and pick at their dinner.
"What about you, Kiki?" Laudna asks expectantly. She is better at matters of the heart than Vex'ahlia is. Or maybe she is better at explaining it in a way that Laudna can understand.
"I knew I was in love," Keyleth starts, spooning food into Elliot's mouth and swiping the excess that dribbles from his lips swiftly with his bib with familiar ease. "When I thought about nothing but your sister. Everything I did somehow came back to her. Not in the sense that I wanted her to dictate everything I did, but in the way that I thought of us as a pair. Like a team. She made me feel braver than anyone." Her head turns in Vex's direction, an exceptionally sweet smile on her lips.
Vex'ahlia stares at her like she is the only one who has ever existed. It's so tooth-rottingly sweet that Laudna can't even bring it upon herself to poke fun.
"I knew that with her at my side I could do anything." Keyleth continues on, her eyes on Vex'ahlia now. "When I realized I didn't want to do anything without her, that's when I knew I was in love." There is a charged moment between the two of them that Laudna feels like she can reach out and touch with her hands. They love each other so much, have three manifestations of that very love as constant reminders, and even after all this time, it’s still palpable.
"The sleepovers were a big help, too," Keyleth adds on with a cheeky smile.
Vex'ahlia tilts forward and kisses her wife on the lips and really that's all the answer Laudna needs. She goes home from dinner with the surety that she is falling in love with Imogen.
By Tuesday night's dinner, Laudna is practically ravenous.
They carpool this time for a reason Laudna doesn't remember Imogen stuttering her way through with the way her heart pounded in her ears. She has to make a conscious effort not to crash her Jeep with the way her eyes keep drifting to Imogen tucked into her passenger seat.
Imogen touches everything she can get her hands on the entire ride. She fiddles with the radio, runs the pads of her fingertips along the badging etched into the dashboard, keeps swapping between turning her torso in Laudna's direction to talk to her and then facing out the window and watching the city pass around them. Laudna wishes she could stare at her without compromising their safety.
"It's weird being so high up," Imogen says during a lull in the music. She's already connected her cellphone and added the device to the favorites like she plans on this being a reoccurrence. Laudna tries not to think about it for fear of crashing her Jeep.
"You get used to it," Laudna tells her, stealing another glance at Imogen to find her already looking in Laudna's direction. "I could—" she tears her eyes away from Imogen and back to the road, her throat bobbing nervously as she says, "I could help you get in next time. If you want, of course. Just until—just until you get used to it."
Imogen exhales a shaky breath that gets gobbled up by the next song playing in earnest. "Alright, deal," she says softly, but Laudna doesn't have to look at her to know there's a smile on her face.
Their dinner goes like any other until Laudna is reaching into her pocket for the small wooden horse she has whittled away at since the moment Imogen told her about Flora. She is nervous to give it to her, considering how deeply the wound of losing Flora still is for Imogen, but she is willing to take the consequences on the off-chance that Imogen will cherish a little piece of her childhood.
"I have something for you," Laudna blurts as they wait for their meal to be delivered to their table.
Imogen is busy checking emails on her phone, but her foot taps against Laudna's shin every so often so Laudna knows she hasn't truly forgotten her presence. They have hung out so many times by now that the silence that settles between them is comforting and warm. Laudna is still getting used to not feeling incredibly awkward about it.
Imogen's head tilts up from her phone, her brows rising in surprise, but Laudna feels comforted by the almost excited glimmer in her eyes. "Laud," she drawls, her voice airy and sweet. "You didn't have to get me anything."
Laudna thinks she loves this shade of Imogen best. She is so good at playing at demure, but Laudna knows enough about her now to know that sometimes it truly is an act. She is surprised Imogen isn't already making grabby hands across the table. "I wanted to," Laudna tells her, her fingers spinning the wooden horse beneath the tabletop. "I felt bad about canceling so abruptly yesterday."
Imogen's face sobers, her smile softening. "Laudna, you don't have to apologize for that. I shouldn't have assumed I was entitled to your time." Color blooms at the apples of her cheeks like she is still mildly embarrassed about the whole thing.
Laudna would give Imogen every second of her time without a second thought. She would let Imogen be entitled to whatever she wanted. She hardly thinks it appropriate to say such a thing, so instead she pulls the wooden horse from beneath the table and sets it very gently between them.
"I hope I did her justice," Laudna says quietly, her fingers pushing at the back end of the horse to show Imogen that it rocks back and forth. She is proud of the detailing etched into such a hand-sized carving, but it wouldn't matter if Imogen doesn't like it, too. "I know you said you didn't have very many mementos, but you can take this one with you everywhere, if you wanted."
Imogen's hands tremble as they reach for the tiny wooden Flora. She runs the pads of her fingers along all the spots Laudna is most proud of and Laudna wants to look at her face so badly, but she is petrified of what she will see.
"Laudna," Imogen's voice is nothing short of reverential and something about it being Laudna's name that she says so sweetly has Laudna flushing hot at the cheeks and ears. "She's beautiful."
Laudna finally looks up then and she feels like her bones melt into liquid at the glossy blue eyes staring back at her. They are wide and soft and Laudna has never really been looked at with so much affection before. They stay locked into a stare and Laudna feels like they are Sims characters with plus marks and hearts hanging over their heads. It's horribly embarrassing despite the blooming warmth.
"Thank you," Imogen says earnestly, her voice breathy and suffused with gratitude.
"You're very welcome, Imogen."
Imogen reaches across the table with her right hand and Laudna reaches for it with her left without even thinking about it. They don't stop holding hands even when their food is placed in front of them and Laudna has never been more grateful for left-handed dominance existing.
Later, when Laudna has paid for their dinner and offered Imogen her arm to get into her Jeep, Laudna knows that she is irrevocably fucked. There is not a thing she won't do to keep the pleased smile on Imogen's face and the feeling is as dangerous as it is freeing.
"Do you want to meet my friends?" Imogen blurts one afternoon as she takes refuge in Laudna's office.
Laudna is regrettably only paying half attention to her. She does actually have to do her job sometimes and with as often as Imogen has taken to visiting during the day, it is only inevitable that Laudna's job and Imogen's visits overlap. It takes several seconds for the question to register and even when it does, she only lets out a small, distracted, "Hmm?"
Imogen's fingers tug at a lock of hair curling against her neck.
Laudna whips around to face her. There's a smug little smile on Imogen's lips now that she has so effectively gathered Laudna's attention, but it slips away into something a little more shy now that she has Laudna's attention.
"Do you want to meet my friends?" Imogen asks again, somehow quieter than the first time, but Laudna is looking her dead in the face now, so she hears it clearly. Imogen looks away from Laudna after a beat, her fingers reaching for Laudna's lanyard to straighten it instead. She is constantly in motion in a way that rivals Laudna's own fidgeting.
Laudna feels like her heart is going to beat right out of her chest. "You want—you want me to meet your friends?"
Imogen tugs at the lanyard affectionately, "Yeah, Laud, 'course I do. Plus—" Her cheeks rouge a blood-red all the way back to her ears. "They're wonderin' where the fuck I've been every night. Fearne thinks—" she huffs a small laugh. "Fearne thinks I'm lyin'. Thinks I made you up."
Laudna blinks slowly as her brain digests that information. There is a pocket of warmth that grows in the center of her chest, a riot of butterflies kicking up in her belly at the fact that Imogen has mentioned her to other people. There is also a preening kind of pride at being invited out, mostly because Laudna is never really invited out anywhere. She doesn't count zoo trips or birthday dinners with her sister and brood. They are family, they have to love Laudna. Imogen is under no such obligation.
"Alright," Laudna says after a thick beat of silence. "Alright, sure. You can—you can text me the time and place?" Her voice lilts a little higher than she wishes for the way she is trying to stay calm, cool, and collected.
They do not have each other's numbers yet and Laudna tries not to freak out at the realization that that will change. All because Imogen wants Laudna to meet her friends.
Imogen's lips part into a grin as she tilts forward to scoop up Laudna's cell phone hanging out in the desk stand Laudna places it in while working. She swipes at the screen to wake it, her eyes flickering down as she murmurs, "What's your password?"
Laudna, who has several certifications in cybersecurity hanging behind her, tells her without a second thought.
Imogen lets out a small sound of intrigue. "Oh my god, is that Pâté?" She lifts the phone closer to her face like she is trying to get a closer glance.
Laudna tries not to squirm in her seat. "Yes," she answers swiftly. "We were on a hike." The photo is several months old, from an unreasonably lovely Saturday where Laudna thought it criminal to keep Pâté indoors. They had a lovely time and Laudna propped her phone up on a tree with a timer to commemorate and remember the sun setting in front of them. Her arm is wrapped around Pâté’s shoulders and he leans into her side heavily. It is one of her favorite photos.
Imogen's tongue comes out to moisten her lips, her eyes flickering to Laudna briefly. "You're real athletic, huh?" There's an almost wistful quality to her voice that makes Laudna flush hotter.
"Not really," Laudna demures, but it hardly seems to make a difference to Imogen. She watches Imogen swipe at her screen and type with her thumbs with bated breath. After an agonizing amount of time, Imogen passes Laudna's phone back to her with a shy smile and pink cheeks.
Laudna is a little breathless at the Imogen 💜💰staring back at her. It is much too much power in the palm of her hand. The idea that she could just text Imogen, call her, all without the guise of work hanging over them. It makes her as breathless as it makes her nervous.
"Now you have to text me," Imogen says, the corner of her lips quirking. "So I can have your number, too."
"Uh," Laudna's eyes flit between Imogen's gorgeous face and an empty message screen with mounting trepidation. "What would you like me to say?"
Imogen lets out an airy giggle. "I don't know," she drawls. "But make it something good." She tugs at Laudna's lanyard sharply before she gets up entirely. She lets out a small sigh, stretching her back and teasing Laudna with a strip of skin at her hip that looks suspiciously colored before it’s gone away again. "I have a meeting so I should probably go but—" she looks down at Laudna's phone still aloft in her slackened grip, "—text me when you're ready for dinner?"
The smile on her lips is smug and Laudna can't even get her sluggish brain to respond before Imogen is sashaying off and waving at Laudna before she disappears.
Criminal. It is criminal for Imogen to exist the way she does.
Laudna stares down at her phone in indecision for longer than she cares to admit. She thinks she might be putting too much stock in the first message she will send to Imogen Temult. She only hopes it's nowhere near the last, either.
She types her message slowly and hits send before she can change her mind.
Would you like to meet Pâté?
Imogen responds within mere seconds.
I would be honored.
Imogen meets Pâté later that evening. Instead of Laudna scheduling a dog walker for him, Imogen follows Laudna in her sedan to Laudna’s house. The plan is to take him for a short walk before their outstanding dinner plans. The entire drive home Laudna manages to wind herself into a ball so tight she worries any movement will snap her threads.
It’s the most important introduction of her life. Pâté is her everything. He is her most precious creature. Sometimes she forgets that they didn’t enter this life together. She knows she has told Imogen of him before,
“I should warn you,” Laudna starts abruptly. “Pâté is—he’s not like other dogs.” Her grip tightens on her keys until the jagged metal bites into her skin.
Imogen stares at her calmly, nonplussed by this warning outside a faint twitch of her brow. “Laud, I’m more worried about Pâté likin’ me than me likin’ him. He’s your boy. I love him already,” she says earnestly.
Laudna’s eyes sweep anxiously over her face. She thinks it would break her heart into pieces so small she will never be able to recover them again if Imogen is not telling the truth. It threatens to ruin this careful thing that Laudna has grown so fond of. Still, Pâté comes first.
“He won’t bite,” Laudna tells her softly. “Even if he looks scary or barks. He’s harmless.” It isn’t entirely a lie, of course. Pâté never bites or threatens unprovoked. He is lovely with her nieces and nephew and gentle despite the grotesque nature of his face.
“I trust you,” Imogen says easily. She smiles up at Laudna in reassurement, but her hands twist together like she is nervous. “I like all animals, really,” she tells Laudna in a fast blurt. Whether it’s meant to remind or reassure is lost the moment Laudna summons her strength and pushes open the front door to her home.
Pâté is on them the second Laudna’s foot crosses the threshold. He is undoubtedly excited to see her in a way that never fails to melt her heart. His breathing is a heavy obnoxious rattle, atypical for dogs even of his size, that she imagines might be concerning to new ears. Vilya likes to say he sounds like ‘Tia Zahra’s big bike!’ She is not wrong in her assessment.
“Oh,” Imogen says very, very softly.
Laudna kneels to take the brunt of Pâté’s excited wiggles. Her fingers wrap around his collar to hold him steady, but he drops into a sit like the perfect gentleman he is. She rewards his good behavior with a vigorous pat to his head, all the while acutely aware of Imogen’s silence. She does not look up for fear of what she will see.
Pâté is not like other dogs because he is better than all of them. His misshapen muzzle, the way he cannot close his jaw entirely because of the missing bones, the constant roar of his breathing, all make him that much more special. He is scary and unsightly—to others. He is Laudna’s soulmate.
“Pâté,” Laudna’s voice only shakes a little. “This is my friend Imogen,” she tells him gently, her hand scratching at his fur. His breath is hot against her face as he tilts his head to stare at Imogen. She holds her breath, dread and worry and indignation swirling in her belly just as heavy as Pâté’s breathing.
“Hi, Pâté,” Imogen greets cautiously, but no less genuine. Her hand floats across Laudna’s peripheral vision, outstretched towards Pâté like she is encouraging him to sniff. Laudna exhales a breath she had not known she was holding.
Laudna holds very still as Pâté noses at Imogen’s fingers. He makes an awful sucking sound, but Imogen does not withdraw her hand in fear. He seems to find her just as lovely as Laudna because his tongue comes out to lap at her hand and his tail thrashes against the hardwood floor.
Imogen lets out a quiet laugh, something relieved lilting along the edges. “That’s good huh?”
Laudna swallows against the tight knot in her throat. “Yes.”
Imogen ups the ante of their introduction when she brushes her fingers along the fur between his eyes. Pâté’s head lowers just a fraction, his eyes blinking closed slowly. She coos at him softly, stroking along his head in earnest now. “What a handsome boy,” she murmurs and Laudna detects not a hint of a lie.
“He is,” Laudna says quickly, her hands rubbing vigorously at his neck. “He’s the best boy.”
Imogen hums in agreement. “C’mon then. Let’s take the best boy out. He’s probably gotta piss or something,” she says around a short laugh.
Laudna’s knees click as she stands. She looks at Imogen to already find Imogen looking back at her. There’s a gentle smile on her lips, her eyes a little larger around the edges. Her smile edges into something a little bit more mischievous the longer Laudna stares at her.
“Can I hold the leash?” Imogen asks with a smirk curling around her lips.
Laudna lets out a laugh, her worry and anxiety rushing out with the expel of air. “No,” she drawls slowly. “You and a leash?” She shakes her head playfully and Imogen’s smile only widens.
Laudna expects her to make another joke, something juvenile and borderline X-rated, but Imogen holds her tongue. She watches Laudna clip a worn leather lead to Pâté’s collar, takes a step back to compensate for Pâté’s tight whirls of excitement, and smiles at the whole ordeal.
Laudna burns the small fond smile on Imogen’s lips into her brain to hold forever.
Pâté is once again on his best behavior as they take their short walk around the block. Imogen picks up on a conversational thread like nothing has changed about their nighttime routine at all. In fact, she seems almost disappointed when it’s time to leave for dinner and Pâté is left behind.
“He’s really sweet, Laud,” Imogen tells her later when they’re standing under the parking lot lights of a familiar diner. “I wouldn’t, uh, I wouldn’t mind doin’ that again. If you wanted, of course.” Her smile almost edges on nervous as she darts her eyes across Laudna’s face.
Laudna’s fingers still where they are playing absently with her key ring. “Taking Pâté for a walk?” she clarifies just to make sure she has not made it up in her own heart-sick delusion.
Imogen bobs her head. “Yeah,” she says softly, like it’s no big deal, like Laudna’s heart isn’t fit to burst out of her chest. “Up to you,” she says when Laudna can’t form any words. She offers Laudna one last smile, serene and lovely, before she ducks into her car.
Laudna gets herself back home despite the dazed stupor. It feels remarkably like having her cake and eating it too. She thinks Imogen deserves something special for the way she has handled Laudna’s most precious thing. She thinks about so many things she could say, so many things she could build with her own bare hands, and nothing seems to hold the weight of how much it means to her.
In the end, Laudna decides on chili's has a new appetizer on their menu my treat and Imogen responds with a heart react and god I think you're my favorite person ever so Laudna thinks her messaging hits the mark anyway.
Laudna: You can't eat a burger three days in a row, Imogen
Laudna: Think of your arteries!
Imogen 💜💰: i am thinking of my arteries! they deserve bacon grease
Imogen 💜💰: god im drooling just thinking about it
Imogen💜💰: laudna im getting a burger idc
Imogen💜💰: pry it out of my hands if u dare
Laudna: Maybe I will
Laudna: What if you also had a vegetable?
Imogen💜💰: i am
Imogen💜💰: lettuce and tomato
Imogen💜💰: a pickle
Imogen💜💰: omg fried pickles…
Laudna: What am I going to do with you? Lol
Imogen💜💰: buy me a fucking burger i hope
Laudna: Fine! But no coke
Imogen💜💰: deal
Imogen💜💰: im gonna get a beer :)))))
Imogen💜💰: allura is actually so scary did u know that
Laudna: Yes, I've heard she's very capable at her job. She's done wonders for the finance department as a whole
Imogen💜💰: ????
Imogen💜💰: u like her or something?
Imogen💜💰: she's married
Laudna: No! I'm just saying!
Laudna: I've met her wife. She is also scary but in a different way
Imogen💜💰: what?? kima is a sweetheart!
Laudna: Have you seen the size of her fist?
Imogen💜💰: are you gonna call me gay if i say yeah?
Laudna: Imogen! Of course not!
Laudna: Wait are you?
Imogen💜💰: ur actually so funny
Imogen💜💰: u been in my office, laud
Imogen💜💰: u think all those pins are for an ally?
Imogen💜💰: i earned them :)))
Laudna: Yeah?
Laudna: How'd you do that?
Imogen💜💰: sry gotta go allura is staring at me
Imogen💜💰: use ur imagination genius
Laudna: What if I turned off the internet?
Imogen💜💰: do it
Imogen💜💰: we can get early dinner
Laudna: I'm thinking about it very seriously.
Laudna: Just so my phone doesn't ring again.
Imogen💜💰: busy morning?
Laudna: Like you would not believe. I hate password expiration month.
Imogen💜💰: just come up here and hide
Imogen💜💰: i can break my monitor
Imogen💜💰: or what if i start cutting cables
Imogen💜💰: think ill get electrocuted?
Laudna: Please do not do that
Laudna: I'll be up in 10 minutes
Imogen💜💰: what do u do on the weekends?
Laudna: Usually woodworking. I'm building a toy chest for the twins currently
Imogen💜💰: yeah???? let me see????
Laudna: Attached 1 image
Laudna: I still have to sand it and add the top hinge but I'm halfway there!
Imogen💜💰: ur so talented
Laudna: It's just a box, Imogen
Imogen💜💰: that u made with ur bare hands!
Laudna: Yes and they have suffered for it lol
Laudna: Attached 1 image
Imogen💜💰: jfc
Imogen💜💰: in broad daylight???
Imogen💜💰: no warning???
Laudna: You asked for pics, Imogen
Laudna: Do you want me to unsend it?
Imogen💜💰: fuck no
Laudna: What do you do on the weekends?
Imogen💜💰: i usually hang out with fearne and dorian
Imogen💜💰: we get mani pedis mostly
Imogen💜💰: sometimes we go to the mall cuz someones always got a date
Laudna: Oh. That sounds very busy
Imogen💜💰: yeah
Imogen💜💰: i mostly just tag along
Imogen💜💰: fearne will pay for my nails sometimes cuz she feels bad i never go on dates lol
Laudna: Why don't you?
Imogen💜💰: laud when would i have time to go on dates lol i spend all my time with u
Laudna: Should we cancel dinner tomorrow? I don't want to keep you from anything
Imogen💜💰: dont be ridiculous
Imogen💜💰: ive wanted pizza for 2 days
Imogen💜💰: ur not keeping me from anything
Imogen💜💰: i want to hang out with u
Imogen💜💰: nowhere else id rather be
Laudna: Do you want to see something funny?
Imogen💜💰: yes
Imogen💜💰: this call is dragging
Laudna: Attached 1 mp4
Laudna: My sister sent me this this morning
Imogen💜💰: LMAO omg!!!!
Imogen💜💰: oh i bet she was pissed
Laudna: She was lol
Laudna: The caption that came along with the video said "I'm packing him a bag right now. Hope your house is baby proof!"
Imogen💜💰: lmao well is it?
Laudna: God no
Laudna: I have a pc tower disassembled on the dining room table
Imogen💜💰: ur such a nerd
Laudna: Says you!
Laudna: You think math is fun!
Imogen💜💰: math IS fun laudna
Laudna: Some people would say it doesn't get any nerdier than that
Imogen💜💰: some people huh?
Laudna: Yes
Imogen💜💰: are u saying that laudna
Laudna: Perhaps
Imogen💜💰: hmmm
Imogen💜💰: hmmmmm
Imogen💜💰: hmmmmmmm
Imogen💜💰: guess ill eat dessert by my lonesome tonight
Imogen💜💰: guess ill tell pretty not to make those maple ginger cookies for u then
Laudna: WHAT
Laudna: IMOGEN DON'T BE SO HASTY
Imogen💜💰: im texting him rn
Laudna: I don't think you're a nerd! I think you're a wonderfully intelligent woman who has accomplished more in your years than most people do in a lifetime.
Imogen💜💰: damn
Imogen💜💰: u must really like those cookies
Laudna: What?
Laudna: Oh yes. I take my maple ginger cookies very seriously
Imogen💜💰: im gonna come hide in ur office
Imogen💜💰: tired of people talking to me
Laudna: Sure
Laudna: Want me to make you some coffee?
Imogen💜💰: ur my favorite person
Imogen💜💰: have i told u that?
Laudna: Only 3 times. So 2 less than you did last week
Imogen💜💰: its cuz people keep fucking talking to me!!!!
Imogen💜💰: im getting in the elevator
Laudna: Okay see you soon
Imogen💜💰: i should have listened to u :(((
Laudna: Not even one hour Imogen
Laudna: You didn't even last an hour
Imogen💜💰: i only regret it a little bit
Imogen💜💰: jfc i should have listened to u
Laudna: I'm going to remind you of this next time
Imogen💜💰: u don't feel bad for me?
Imogen💜💰: :(((((
Laudna: You want me to feel bad for you after you ate your ice cream cone and mine despite me telling you not to?
Imogen💜💰: uh huh
Laudna: I'm sorry you gave yourself a tummy ache Imogen
Laudna: Would you like me to bring you some tea in the morning?
Imogen💜💰: omg
Imogen💜💰: yes
Imogen💜💰: yes pls
Laudna: I'll even bring you a croissant too
Laudna: Maybe next time you'll listen
Imogen💜💰: LOL
Imogen💜💰: laud these ears are for show ive never listened a day in my life
Imogen💜💰: want to meet my friends tomorrow?
Laudna: Are you sure you want me to meet your friends?
Imogen💜💰: lol why do u sound so surprised
Imogen💜💰: laud ur like my best friend atp
Imogen💜💰: i talk to u more than i talk to fearne
Imogen💜💰: ofc i'm sure!
Imogen💜💰: but i get it if ur busy or u don't want to
Imogen💜💰: actually it's okay u don't have to forget i asked
Laudna: I would love to meet your friends, Imogen
Imogen💜💰: cool cool cool
Imogen💜💰: 8 work for u?
Laudna: That works perfect
Imogen💜💰: :))))
"Oh hello, darling! To what do I owe this unscheduled FaceTime—"
Laudna does not have time for pleasantries as the call connects and her mouth is blurting out, "What the fuck do I wear to the bar?" before she can process the brusqueness of her own tone.
There is a measured silence on the other end of the call and Laudna looks down at her viewfinder to find Vex'ahlia staring back at her. The surprise on her face is not comforting and Laudna tries not to squirm out of her skin.
"You're going to a bar?" Vex'ahlia questions immediately, her eyes narrowing.
"Yes," Laudna answers. Her hand runs through the wet mess of her hair as a fresh jolt of anxiety roils in her belly. She still has two hours to get her shit together, but suddenly everything in her closet is awful and suddenly she has never left her house ever and suddenly she is scared Imogen will never talk to her again—
"Alright," Vex'ahlia drawls slowly, almost like she can sense the impending freak out. "Do you have something in mind already?"
Laudna, who is only in a pair of boxer briefs and a sports bra in the center of her bedroom, shakes her head no.
Vex'ahlia's lips twitch into a smile, fond and slightly exasperated. "Okay, well, do you have a color scheme planned?" Another head shake. "What about a specific shirt or pants? Shoes even? Something to build around?"
Laudna blinks at her in growing distress. She rubs at the back of her neck, her eyes darting to her open closet and then back to the viewfinder again helplessly.
"Oh for fuck’s sake," Vex'ahlia finally huffs. "I'll be there in ten minutes. Pick out a pair of shoes that you can comfortably wear all night and we'll work around that. I'm not having another heeled boot fiasco." The call disconnects before Laudna can even whine about her bringing it up again. She wore a new pair of leather boots to a concert one time and Vex'ahlia has never let her forget how much she complained about her feet hurting.
Still she moves to her closet to follow instructions. She stares at the rows of shoes in indecision before panic-choosing a pair of Doc Martens when she hears the front door opening. She listens to Vex'ahlia greet Pâté and mentally prepares herself to be a doll until they both agree on a proper combination.
Vex'ahlia appears in the doorway with her hands on her hips and sweatpants rolled and slung low enough for Laudna to see a peek of stretch marks marring her tummy. She has clearly left in the middle of her night time routine with her wife and children, but Laudna is too wound up to feel bad about it. The look in Vex'ahlia's eye is particularly determined and it somehow sets her at ease.
"Is this a date?" Vex'ahlia demands.
"I don't know," Laudna whines, running both hands through her hair now.
"How do you not know if it's a date?" Vex'ahlia's brow raises again, her mouth pursed into something displeased.
Laudna shrugs her unsureness with a violent wiggle of her shoulders.
Vex'ahlia only sighs in exasperation. "Alright, we'll split the difference." She gestures at Laudna's bathroom, "Go do your hair, I'll find something for you to wear."
Laudna hesitates for a beat, "What do I do with it?"
Vex'ahlia blinks. "You have all of six inches of it, Laudna, I'm sure you can figure something out," she says with a pointed tone and a raised brow and when Laudna only stares at her helplessly, Vex'ahlia huffs. "Okay, fine. I'll talk to you like Vilya, then. Go and re-wet it, comb through it again—do not forget the ends." She shoos Laudna away, shouting, "And use the paste I got you for your birthday last year!" as she disappears into Laudna's closet.
Laudna promptly turns off her brain and lets her sister make all the decisions. She is better at this kind of thing than Laudna. When Laudna decided to chop off all her hair, Vex'ahlia was the one with the scissors. When Laudna decided she hated the fit of her old clothes, Vex'ahlia took her to buy new ones. When Laudna decided she hated the floral scent of perfume on her skin, it was Vex'ahlia who gave her a set of masculine scents to try.
It seems fitting that Vex'ahlia be the one to help her for her first hangout with Imogen outside of a shared meal.
When she has finished with her hair, Vex'ahlia is reemerging from the closet with a bundle of clothes. She tosses Laudna a pair of black ripped jeans and tells her to put them on with her boots.
"Are you going out with Imogen?" Vex'ahlia asks her as she hands Laudna a belt. She lets Laudna get it through four loops before she seems to change her mind and tugs it right back out of Laudna's grip. She hands Laudna a different one promptly after.
"Yes," Laudna exhales sharply, her voice trembling as she adds, "she wants me to meet her friends."
Vex'ahlia's eyes bounce between her own, her expression unreadable. "And you want to do that?"
"If Imogen wants me to," Laudna answers honestly. She doesn't understand the spasm of Vex'ahlia's cheek in response, but Vex'ahlia doesn't say anything more and she hands Laudna a shirt, so they move on.
They cycle through four different shirts before Vex'ahlia deems the winner a loose black button up with red buttons and cuffed sleeves. Vex'ahlia scrutinizes her from head to toe. She rearranges Laudna's shirt on her shoulders, pulls the chain from beneath Laudna's tank top so it rests atop her shirt. She gestures for Laudna to turn and Laudna obeys dutifully. Her hands tug Laudna's pants sharply to the left before she pulls the excess fabric along Laudna's legs to fall properly against her boots.
By the time Laudna is dressed, she only has thirty minutes to get to the bar.
"Invite her to dinner soon," Vex'ahlia tells her as she slips her wallet into the pocket of her jeans and reaches for her keys with the other. "I want to meet this girl."
Laudna stares at her with wide eyes, "You're serious?"
"Only because you are," Vex'ahlia rebuts immediately. "You're going on a date with her. To a bar. In the middle of the work week." Her tone conveys the gravity of the situation in a way Laudna can't think about or she will never leave the safety of her home.
"It's not a date," Laudna defends weakly.
Vex'ahlia only hums dubiously. "Maybe this one isn't, but maybe the next will be." It does nothing to assuage her nerves but even she can't deny the bubble of excitement that comes with it.
Dating Imogen Temult? Only in Laudna's wildest dreams.
The bar is in full swing when Laudna finally arrives.
The din of clinking glasses and voices overlapping and music playing in the background is almost enough to make her turn and leave. She catches a cascade of dark blonde hair and promptly changes her mind.
Imogen is easy to spot among the crowd, her back turned to Laudna as she stands just in front of a small table with what Laudna assumes are her friends. The little black dress amplifying every curve of her body in a way Laudna can see from this much distance makes her all the more nervous.
She approaches them slowly, already planning what she will say in the hopes of making a good impression. She hardly expects to be catcalled before she can even open her mouth.
"Damn girl, who let you out of the house looking that fucking good?" One of the occupants of Imogen's table calls out in a high-pitched lilt and when Laudna makes the mistake of looking her in the eye—molten green and lovely, but not steely-blue and thus unremarkable—she thinks she understands the tale of Medusa and her stone-making snakes.
The woman's grin is predatory, the planes of her face soft, but the glimmer in her eyes is dangerous. She stares back at Laudna unabashedly, her hair piled high on her head and dyed a vibrant green that somehow doesn't clash with her eyes.
Imogen whirls around in an instant and Laudna is released from her stare to look at Imogen instead.
"Oh my god, hi!" Imogen cries out immediately, her hands reaching for Laudna to draw her into a hug.
Laudna is momentarily bewildered by the action until she catches the waft of tequila when Imogen pulls away. The grin on her face is a little sloppy, but Laudna is enamored by this side of her, too. She is used to a table between them, a desk even, or the overbearing lights that remind them they are at work. She isn't quite sure what to do with the closeness.
Imogen hardly seems to give it a second thought as she runs her hand down the length of Laudna's arm until she can lace their fingers. Laudna tries not to combust on the spot. "I'm so glad you're here," she says earnestly. "Let me introduce you!"
Laudna lets herself be dragged the rest of the way to the small bar table and tries not to cow under the amused stares of Imogen's friends. Maybe she should have asked Ashton to come with her. She was too flustered to think clearly about anything.
"This is Fearne!" Imogen proclaims, her hand still tangled with Laudna's and her free one addressing the woman with green hair. "And this is Dorian!" she gestures at the gorgeous man to Fearne's left with a neat and orderly beard and long dark hair that Laudna is kind of in awe of.
"Hi," Laudna tries not to feel out of place as she offers Imogen's friends a jittery wave. They are as attractive as Imogen is and Laudna fights through the familiar unease of being an ugly duckling among swans.
"This is Laudna, guys," Imogen says with such a delighted, pointed tone that only serves to make Laudna feel a little more awkward. She curls herself around Laudna's arm, pressing their bodies so incredibly close together that Laudna has to take a deep breath so she doesn't freak out.
The warmth of Imogen beside her, the feeling of their palms intertwined—
"Laudna," Fearne drawls, a wide smile on her lips. "You look like you could use a drink."
Laudna thinks she could use two, in fact.
"Oh my treat," Dorian chimes in immediately, a charming grin on his face as he asks Laudna. "Light or dark, Laudna?"
Laudna blinks, "Uh," she huffs out a nervous laugh and looks down at Imogen for help without really meaning to. She is only further unmoored at the big blue eyes staring back at her. She is so close that Laudna can see the rings of her pupils, the way they dilate the longer Laudna stares—
"Probably light, Dorian," Fearne laughs, amused and musical and carefree. "Dark is only gonna make Imogen worse."
"God, you're probably right." Dorian is equally as amused as his voice carries away.
"What are they talking about?" Laudna whispers, the corner of her mouth curling into a sheepish smile. It's almost like they exist in a pocket just the two of them and it's certainly enough to let some of her nerves dissipate. She tries to remember that Imogen wants her here. Even if Laudna feels like she is a touch misguided in wanting it.
"Shots," Imogen chirps easily, her smile exceptionally sweet. "You have to catch up," she says very seriously, clinging a little tighter to Laudna's arm as she sways gently back and forth.
Laudna's smile deepens, a little burst of affection eating up her anxiety for the moment. "Do I?" she drawls. "How many shots have you had, darling?"
Imogen sighs contentedly, pulling Laudna's arm against her chest. "Four," she answers without shame and then her smile grows a little wicked. "And I forgot to have dinner."
Laudna rolls her eyes fondly. It is entirely ridiculous that Imogen seems to not care about eating unless Laudna is in her presence. She often jokes that she would just stop altogether if it meant getting Laudna to hang out with her. After all, Laudna couldn't let her wilt away.
"It's all fun and games until you get pissy," Laudna says firmly, but she's smiling too much for it to be effective.
Imogen's smile only grows larger. "I would never," she presses her fingers to the delicate notch of her throat, fingernails a deep purple, as she puts on a faux grave tone. "I'm sweet as apple pie," she thickens her accent on purpose and Laudna's heart thumps a little harder in her chest.
"Of course," Laudna nods placatingly. "The sweetest. No bite at all."
"Exactly," Imogen drawls, her eyes practically shimmering in the bar's lights. "I'm glad you understand."
"Hi, I'm still here, if you wanted to know," Fearne chimes in suddenly.
Laudna jolts at the sound of her voice and Imogen's head turns in Fearne's direction. There is a look that passes between the two of them and Laudna has been a third party to so many between Vex and Keyleth that she understands a warning look when she sees it. Imogen huffs in annoyance when they do finally break eye contact and while she backs out of Laudna's space she doesn't let go of Laudna's hand.
"Thank you," Fearne says to Imogen with a pointedness Laudna does not understand. She steeples her fingers together to rest beneath her chin, the jewelry on her wrists shifting with the movement. Her eyes are a little less friendly when she looks at Laudna again.
"So, Laudna," Fearne drawls, mocking Laudna's accent in a way Laudna hopes is good humor, but can't quite be sure with the otherwise unreadable expression on her face. "Got any kids?"
"Fearne," Imogen sighs in exasperation.
"Uh, no," Laudna laughs awkwardly because Fearne looks like she wants Laudna to answer that question seriously. "Not unless you count my dog."
Fearne's face falls into something a little more amicable for a second before it's right back into unreadable. "What about a wife?"
Laudna balks, "Oh god, no."
Fearne's brow raises, "Don't want to get married?"
"No I—" Laudna's tongue tangles impressively and it doesn't really help that Imogen also looks at her expectantly like she wants to know the response to this, too. "I would love to get married someday. Just to—just to the right person," she finishes lamely.
She looks towards Imogen again, can't really help the way her eyes always slide back to her like a moth and a flame, a constant temperature gauge to make sure she is not fucking anything up. It is starting to feel dangerous. Imogen's smile is encouraging, her hand squeezing Laudna's again reassuringly, and Laudna tries to settle her rocket of nerves.
Fearne lets out a small hum. "Smart. Divorces are very messy," she says with the air of someone who has been through a messy divorce.
Laudna doesn't get to ask her about it, to try and switch the attention away from her, before Fearne is starting up again.
"Got any hobbies?"
"I dabble in woodworking."
"Are you allergic to peanuts?"
"No?"
"Good. You can't trust someone with a nut allergy. Are you into weird porn?"
"I don't—well, what constitutes weird—I'm not—I'm not really in the business of yucking someone else's yum so to speak but—No? I don't think so—"
"Diplomatic, I guess. Alright. Ever been arrested?"
"No."
"Do you steal?"
"Not unless you count food."
"Favorite color?"
"Red."
"What's your blood type?"
"O positive."
"Universal donor, interesting. Why are you still single?"
"People think I'm off-putting and weird."
There is a thick silence that descends over the table then and Laudna cringes at the slip. She only feels worse when Fearne seems to do the same. She blames the rapid-fire questions for this fatal over-share. She had barely enough time to think of her true answer let alone lie or skirt the truth. She fears that might have been the entire point.
"Fearne," Imogen grinds out through clenched teeth, her tone not one Laudna is as familiar with. It makes Fearne straighten up considerably, her face already flexed in an anticipatory wince. "Your questions are over now," Imogen says flatly and the glare she levels Fearne's way is spine-quaking at minimum. Laudna almost pities her.
Fearne's face flexes into an apologetic smile, meek now in the face of Imogen's ire. "Sure, yeah," she agrees immediately, her eyes bouncing over to Laudna. "Sorry, Laudna. You can ask me anything you want to make it even." She is almost pleading to make it even, her ears growing red the longer Imogen stares at her and Laudna takes pity on her.
She wants to be a good sport about it so she agrees. She wants to prove that she is made of tougher stuff, that she is worthy of being Imogen's friend, that she can dish it out and take it. Her track record historically does not reflect that, but the only person who can call her on it—Vex'ahlia—is not present.
It's only because she wants to be a good sport that she agrees. She makes her questions more and more ridiculous and Fearne answers every single one with levity and graveness until they're all laughing together.
The rapid-fire questions finish up the second Dorian returns with a tray of drinks.
Laudna still worries she has fucked it all up. She worries that she will be found out as off-putting and weird after all and Imogen will never want to hang out with her again. She doesn't have to sit in it long before she is set at ease when Fearne plucks two shots from the tray and hands them to Laudna with a grin. She snags one for herself and then raises it in Laudna's direction.
"A toast to Laudna," Fearne proclaims and it must mean something with the way Imogen straightens up and Dorian looks between the two of them in surprise. "I like her," she says with complete and utter confidence.
Laudna perks up at that. She feels like she has passed some kind of test even if it feels like it's been by the skin of her teeth. She isn't mad at Fearne for trying to judge the caliber of her character—though the methods are odd—because she understands the stakes. Imogen deserves only the best of the best surrounding her.
Laudna raises her shot glass in kind. "To new friends," she adds, with a nervous twitch of her lips. Her addition is accepted with a clink of glasses and her anxiety smoothed away with the back-to-back burn of tequila.
The rest of the night passes quickly from there. There are more drinks to had and more stories shared and Laudna isn't sure why Imogen tucks herself beneath Laudna's arm, but once she is firmly nestled in, Laudna can hardly move her.
It results in Fearne pulling out her phone to snap a photo and Laudna blushes bright red when Imogen coos over it like it's the holy grail.
"Send that to me," Imogen demands as she passes Fearne her phone back. The image is already ingrained in Laudna's brain—Imogen's head against her shoulder, a pleased smile on her lips, Laudna looking down at her, besotted and disbelieving.
Laudna is surprised when the night is called and she feels disappointment.
"I have an early flight," Dorian says with a rueful twist of his lips. "Plus, you guys have work tomorrow," he tacks on, pointing jet-black painted nails in their direction.
Imogen immediately blows a raspberry, her hand flinging out and her thumb pointing downward as she cries, "Boooo! You're a buzzkill."
"It is kind of late," Laudna realizes, a little floored when she checks her phone to see that it's almost two in the morning. She is never one to stay out so late and as she sees the triplicate of messages her sister has sent her, she realizes she is not the only one to know that.
Imogen's tune switches in an instant. "Yeah, okay," she complies easily. "Sorry, Laud, didn't mean to keep you out so late." She misses the exasperated glances Dorian and Fearne send each other, but Laudna does not.
"Don't be sorry," Laudna tells her, her fingers reaching out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind Imogen's ear. The liquor has made her freer with touch and Imogen seems to seek it out in equal measure. Laudna would never deny her a thing. "I had a lot of fun." She is a little breathless to find how much she means it.
Imogen's grin certainly rivals the sun. "I'm just gonna make you come out with me again," she says like it’s meant to be a threat, her tone pleased like she has somehow suckered Laudna into her whims.
All Laudna hears is that she wants to spend more time together.
"Are you sure you're good to drive?" Fearne asks sometime later.
Dorian has long since left them after paying the entire tab like a perfect gentleman and Laudna accompanies Fearne and Imogen as they wait for a Lyft.
Imogen's arm is hooked over Laudna's waist, still nestled beneath Laudna's arm like there's no place she'd rather be. Fearne's grip is tight against her chin as she manipulates Laudna's this way and that, like she can gauge Laudna's sobriety by staring at her eyes at different angles.
"Yes," Laudna says confidently, an amused huff of laughter expelling from her lips when Fearne pinches her cheeks sharply. She is fine, of course, because she has waited the requisite amount of time after consuming the requisite amount of water. She has hardly had as much as the two of them.
Still, it's sweet of Fearne to check. Laudna thinks they might be friends, after all.
The Lyft arrives and Laudna pops the door open for them. Fearne enters the SUV first, a smirk at the corner of her lips as she flutters her fingers along Laudna's arm and purrs, "Goodnight, Laudna, have sweet dreams."
Laudna hardly gets to process the way the action elicits absolutely nothing before Imogen is suddenly in front of her. Her heart picks up speed, knocking painfully into her ribcage at the soft smile on Imogen's lips. Her makeup is smeared at the corners now, her cheeks a soft pink that has remained the entire night, and Laudna doesn't think she can ever get more beautiful until she does. It's truly hazardous on her poor useless heart.
Imogen leans up on the tips of her toes and presses a kiss to the corner of Laudna's mouth. She lingers long enough for Laudna to register the heat of her lips, smell the sweet lavender of her shampoo, and feel the curl of her palm around the side of Laudna's neck. Her belly does a dangerous swoop, a minor implosion of her entire nervous system and then—
"Night, Laud," Imogen murmurs sweetly. "See you tomorrow." She slips into the SUV promptly after and Laudna doesn't know how much time she stares after the vehicle retreats in motionless surprise. If she was not sure she was in love with Imogen before, she is sure now with the way warmth pools lower than she is used to.
Laudna can still feel the press of Imogen's lips long after she falls asleep.
They're having dinner the following Tuesday when Laudna's phone rings insistently in her pocket. She doesn't even look at who it is before she's silencing it.
Imogen's eyebrow raises in question, her jaw slowing down from chewing some of the truly sickening amount of cookie pieces that obscure her bowl of ice cream. "It's like nine," she says, like there isn't a window next to their booth and the dark night sky broadcasting this information.
Laudna shrugs, "Probably a wrong number," she answers unperturbed. She doesn't often get phone calls in the first place and the only person who would call her is Vex. If it is truly important or pressing then Vex would just call—
Her phone rings again and Imogen stops eating her ice cream altogether.
Laudna fishes her phone out of her pocket and sighs at her sister's contact card glaring up at her. The photo is often how she remembers Vex'ahlia in her mind—twenty-two and flashing Laudna the double bird for no other reason than Laudna daring to look at her.
"Apologies, darling," Laudna starts to get up from their booth, but Imogen's leg kicks out beneath the table to bar her legs.
"You don't have to go," Imogen says and though her tone is light, sweet even, the calculated look in her eyes does not match. "Just answer it here."
The rings feel like they get more insistent and Laudna doesn't have the multitasking skills to figure out why it matters to Imogen in the first place. She swipes to accept the call before it drops for the second time. A third phone call would only annoy Vex'ahlia into peppering her with more questions.
"Hello," Laudna answers warily.
"Why aren't you at home?" Vex'ahlia says immediately, "I just pulled into the driveway and your car is missing."
"Why did you pull into my driveway?" Laudna asks instead of answering. She is acutely aware of Imogen's eyes on her and when she furrows her brows in question, Imogen spooks like she's been caught doing something naughty and then focuses on her mountain of sugary ice cream.
"Where are you?" Vex'ahlia snips back just as easily. "It's nine p.m."
Laudna rolls her eyes in exasperation. "Did you need something or—"
"I'm grabbing your blow dryer," Vex'ahlia informs her, normal-toned now and Laudna is treated to the sounds of her walking up the driveway and letting herself into Laudna's home. She listens to Vex'ahlia greet Pâté and feels a pocket of annoyance well in her chest.
"What's wrong with yours?" Laudna demands and it doesn't matter, truly. Laudna's hair is short enough that air drying it hardly takes any time, but her blow dryer is her own.
"It smells like it’s burning," Vex'ahlia tells her. "I'll buy one tomorrow, but I have a meeting in the morning. Laudna, where the fuck are you?" she cycles so quickly into her question that Laudna answers honestly before she even remembers she doesn't want to answer at all. As a matter of principle.
"I'm out with Imogen."
Imogen's lips curve into a smug little smile before it goes away with her next bite of ice cream.
Vex'ahlia lets out a considering hum before she says, "Put her on the phone."
Laudna balks immediately, recoiling so hard that Imogen looks up at her in concern. "What? No!"
Vex'ahlia laughs merrily at this response, but she does not let it go. "I'm serious," she drawls. "Have you invited her to dinner yet? I can do it for you if you don't have the balls."
"I'm going to call Keyleth," Laudna threatens, her cheeks flaring with heat and her eyes shifting away so she doesn't watch Imogen watch her be embarrassed by her own flesh and blood.
Vex'ahlia guffaws a laugh. "For what?" she drawls. "To tell her I've invited you to dinner? Go ahead, my dear, she's hardly going to spank me over it."
Laudna's blood pressure skyrockets, her teeth nearly grinding together. "I'm going to hang up on you."
"If you don't ask her, I'm going to show up to your job and ask her myself," Vex'ahlia tells her and though her tone is airy, Laudna knows it's not an empty threat. Still, she remains stubbornly silent. She has never won a battle of wills before and the longer Vex'ahlia doesn't yield and the longer Imogen continues to stare at her in concern, the closer Laudna gets to losing.
Imogen's shoe taps against her shin like she is trying to get Laudna's attention; it’s somehow this that breaks Laudna's restraint.
"Would you like to come to dinner with me on Monday?" Laudna blurts out like the words are burning her from the inside out.
Vex'ahlia laughs long and laughs hard from the other end of Laudna's cell phone and Laudna is sure her blush rivals the stop lights. "I didn't mean right this instance you dolt. All you had to do was say 'yes I will ask her, Vex' and I would have hung up," she bursts into a peel of laughter again and this time Laudna does hang up on her.
Imogen's eyes are wide as she sits in stunned surprise across from Laudna. "I thought Monday's were family dinner."
Laudna tries not to squirm out of her skin. It is too much. It is too big an ask. She is going to murder her sister for goading her into this. Maybe if she cries to Keyleth, Vex'ahlia would get spanked.
"You want me to come to family dinner?" Imogen questions softly, disbelief all over her face. The flush that rises over Imogen's cheeks only makes Laudna's need to fidget worse.
"I would love for you to come," Laudna manages to work free of her mouth. "I—-I understand if you don't want to. I just—my sister asked. Last time. She was—" she clears her throat roughly when Imogen's eyes only widen further— "She was just calling to remind me."
"That was your sister? I thought—" For some reason Imogen's entire face flushes beet-red as her words trail off and Laudna is sure they generate enough heat between the two of them to completely melt their ice cream.
It's the first time that their silence edges into awkward.
"Do you want me to come to dinner?" Imogen asks, after she takes a measured breath. Her face is unreadable in a way that means Laudna will have to be honest and not know if honesty is the right move.
"Yes," Laudna says. "It was—last Monday was kind of boring without you, if I'm honest. I think I'm used to our routine," she informs Imogen sheepishly. Maybe this information would soften any potential social faux pas.
Imogen's smile blooms slowly, but Laudna is rewarded with the precious gap between her teeth and her eyes squinting with the rise of her cheeks. "Alright," she murmurs softly. "I'll come to Monday dinner if you want me there."
Laudna blinks. "You're serious?"
Imogen picks up her spoon and takes a hardy bite of her melting ice cream. "Yeah," she answers genuinely and then Laudna is losing her to her dessert.
Monday dinner rolls around and Laudna is sure she is more nervous than Imogen. She waits in her office for Imogen to change into something not business casual because "Laud, I'm wearing a skirt. What if the kids want to play and I accidentally flash my thong?" and Laudna short-circuits at thong and isn't able to recover before Imogen leaves to the bathroom.
She busies herself with bombarding her sister with text messages instead.
Laudna: Please don't be weird
Laudna: Please don't embarrass me
Laudna: Don't talk about your glory days!
Laudna: Or about the twins getting stuck in your birth canal!
Laudna: Do not fuck this up for me! I will never forgive you Vex'ahlia!
Laudna: I'll tell Keyleth about that time I walked in on you and Zahra
Vexxx 👹: First of all, you know I hate rules
Vexxx👹: Second of all, I'll talk about whatever I want in the house my wife pays for
Vexxx👹: Third of all, Keyleth joined us after anyway
Vexxx👹: And most importantly, kiss my ass
"Okay, how do I look?"
Laudna pauses in thumbing out a truly brow raising text message to look up as Imogen re-enters her office. Any thoughts of keeping her sister on a tight leash flee in an instant.
Imogen stands with her fingers knotted in front of her belly in blue denim jeans and an incredibly soft-looking sweatshirt with Emon University emblazoned on the chest. She has even removed her contacts and swapped them for her glasses.
Laudna wants to bundle her up and make a space for her right in the center of her own chest.
"Beautiful," Laudna says breathlessly.
Imogen's lips twitch into a smile, demure but not an act this time. Her cheeks take on a rosy hue that Laudna will never tire of seeing. "Okay, I'm ready then."
"Right," Laudna snaps her attention back to her phone. "One sec, darling, and then we can be on the way."
Laudna: We're on the way
Laudna: Vex please behave
Laudna is a mess of nerves the entire drive to her sister's home. It's only a short amount of time, but it's enough to make her insides feel like a tight ball of yarn.
"Laudna," Imogen broaches softly when they've sat in the driveway behind Vex's SUV for much too long. "You don't have to be nervous. I'm really good at bein' charmin' when I want to."
Laudna guffaws a laugh, her head turning in Imogen's direction to find a knowing grin on her lips. "I somehow do believe that. I must be special to only get the gremlin version of you," she teases in kind.
Imogen's smile only softens. "Real, real special, Laud," she confirms and then she pops the door open to Laudna's Jeep before Laudna can even turn the car off. She watches in mild confusion as Imogen walks around the front of the car and then opens Laudna's door for her.
"What are you doing?" Laudna questions breathlessly.
Imogen's voice is incredibly patient as she instructs, "Turn off the car."
Laudna presses the button to stop the engine.
"Come on," Imogen says, offering her hand with a sweet smile that Laudna would follow to her death willingly.
It's a little odd to be led up the familiar path of her sister's home, and even odder when Imogen knocks on the door herself, but Laudna is grateful for the anchor of her hand all the same.
Keyleth's smiling face is the first to greet them and Laudna sighs audibly in relief.
"Hi!" Keyleth greets, tiny green eyes poking suspiciously from around her hip. "You must be Imogen. I'm Keyleth, Laudna's sister-in-law. This is Vilya, she's suddenly decided to take after me in shyness."
Imogen extends the hand not holding Laudna's with practiced ease. "Real nice to meet you. Thank you for invitin' me to dinner." The manners remind her of the first time they ever met and Laudna tries to relax with the knowledge that Imogen's probably already seen Laudna at her most awkward. She has not run screaming yet. The trio of children wouldn’t scare her off. Laudna hopes anyway.
Keyleth's smile twitches into something sheepish. "Oh, don't thank me yet. You haven't met the rest of the clan." She steps aside then to let them in and Laudna frowns as Vilya moves with her. She stays behind Keyleth and when she makes eye contact with Laudna, the glare is almost like looking into Vex'ahlia Vessar's eyes.
"Vilya," Laudna calls out, "I want you to meet my friend Imogen."
Vilya wrinkles her nose. "No, thanks," she says flatly and then she darts away before Laudna can catch her.
Keyleth's smile is wry, "I think we prepped the wrong one," she tells Laudna sympathetically and then she gives her shoulder a comforting squeeze before she follows after her eldest daughter.
Imogen hardly looks perturbed even though Laudna feels a low ball of dread erupt in the pits of her belly. Vilya is always attached to Laudna's hip whenever she comes over. She is often the most well-behaved in Laudna's presence.
"I'm sorry," Laudna says immediately. "She's usually much more outgoing."
"She's like what? Six?" Imogen shrugs without bother. "They're fickle."
The twins, at least, aren't. They barrel around the corner with Trinket hot on their heels and they seem to not mind Imogen's presence at all. In fact, Emilia seems particularly taken with Imogen and even raises her arms to be picked up.
The sight of Laudna's niece perched on Imogen's hip, the almost domestic aura about her, hits on a fantasy Laudna didn't even know she had. She is so caught up in feasting her eyes on the sight that she doesn't hear the approach of her sister. She instead watches the way Imogen's eyes widen behind her glasses, the way her posture stiffens up, and a murmur of goddamn falls from Imogen's lips.
It feels remarkably like ice has been dumped straight down her back.
She turns to see her sister standing in the threshold of the room and her belly roils in nerves at the way Vex'ahlia doesn't even pay her any regard. Her eyes fall on Imogen and stay there and Laudna knows she is analyzing every detail with painstaking judgment. It feels like the sentence will be passed to her, too.
"You must be Imogen," Vex'ahlia says in a smooth purr that Laudna has seen countless people crumble under.
Imogen offers her a smile, catching Emilia's wrist gently between her fingers and drawing her hand away when she tries to pull Imogen's glasses from her face. "I am, yeah. You must be Vex. It's nice to meet you," she says easily, like all of the nerves in the room exist solely in Laudna's body. She jostles Emilia on her hip playfully, "Cute kids."
Vex'ahlia only softens marginally, "Thank you. They take after my wife."
Keyleth is quick to intercede as she draws Vex back into the kitchen under the guise of help. She is only buying Laudna so much time before the inquisition begins. It makes her fluttery and nervous as she entertains Imogen with her nieces and nephews while they wait for dinner to finish. It only grows more so when Vilya emerges from her hiding place and makes it a point to sit on Laudna's lap and ignore Imogen entirely. It wouldn't be so bad if she wasn't also hellbent on staring at Imogen like a zoo animal, too.
"You think it's the blonde hair?" Imogen jokes, unaffected by Vilya's behavior in a way that makes Laudna fall just that much more in love with her. "Maybe my eyes?"
"Maybe she just thinks you're pretty," Laudna says and the blush that blazes across Imogen's cheeks is worth it even when her own face heats in kind.
Things get a little more personal once they're all sat for dinner. They don't even make it three bites into their food before Vex'ahlia starts up.
"You went to Emon University?" Vex'ahlia asks, her voice almost dubious in tone.
Imogen's brow raises briefly. "Summa cum laude," she confirms and Laudna watches with bated breath as the two of them seem to size each other up before Imogen is breaking it. "Did you go to Emon?"
Vex'ahlia takes a measured sip of her glass before she deigns to answer. "I did, yes. I got an MBA in finance."
Imogen's lips quirk into the barest hint of a smirk. "That's funny. So did I."
There is a genuine spark of interest in Vex'ahlia's eye that she tries to tamp down for the sake of whatever power play she is working at. Laudna is grateful she is not the only one who notices with Keyleth's lips curve into an exasperated grin. The fond roll of Keyleth's eyes is directed right at Laudna.
"Did you?" Vex'ahlia asks evenly. "And what do you do now?"
"I'm a senior accountant," Imogen chirps easily.
Vex'ahlia's eyes narrow. "You look like a twenty year-old." There is a thump from beneath the table, but Vex'ahlia does not take it back.
"Twenty-six, actually," Imogen corrects with an unaffected laugh.
Laudna grows a little worried when Vex'ahlia seems to take this as a personal slight. She peppers Imogen with questions that Laudna guesses must increase in difficulty, but that she loses track of rather quickly. It's remarkably like being present for Imogen's group conference call if the stakes were jacked up to a hundred.
Imogen takes everything Vex'ahlia throws at her and doesn't seem to crack at all. She answers confidently and correctly if the growing pout on Vex'ahlia's face is anything to go by. She doesn't break a sweat or blush and Laudna is so incredibly enamored with her she is sure it's visible from outer space.
In the end, Vex'ahlia relents and once the conversation switches from Imogen being grilled, she turns to Laudna with a proud smile. She offers Laudna a wink and Laudna's cheeks burn for the rest of the night.
All in all, it's a raging success.
They spend the next few weeks only parting when it’s time to sleep and even that grows torturous. They become regulars at all the 24-hour spots and it’s only the axe of work in the morning that keeps them from all-nighters.
Imogen comes to family dinner three Mondays in a row and even Vilya seems to warm up to her. It seems fitting that Laudna reaches new depths of a high before she's tumbling right back down to earth.
It happens on a Tuesday because Laudna has made the fatal error of ordering new equipment.
There is a delivery person who is assigned to their building and Laudna knows her most of all because her office is placed closest to the bay doors and her office phone is only one number off from the loading dock desk.
She's a spunky woman, maybe Laudna's age, but Laudna has never actually asked. She engages Laudna in conversation every chance she gets and she certainly talks enough to fill Laudna's awkward silences.
On this day, Dusk has a series of packages for Laudna.
"Hi, Laudna!" Dusk greets with a massive grin on her face. She pushes her sunglasses back as she leans against the silver steel dolly that has two large cardboard boxes stacked atop each other. "Big order today, huh?" she pops her gum in her mouth and Laudna feels her eye twitch at the noise.
"Yes," Laudna says, her fingers curling in her pockets. She leans up against the door to prop it open and only just manages to pull her hand out to gesture broadly at the vacant space of her back room. "Come on in."
Dusk's grin widens and she makes quick work of pushing in her dolly. "So, how have you been?" she asks in her normal needling tone. "Working super hard, I bet? Hey, you know the other day I helped my grandma add email to her phone and whew—" she exaggerates a puffed breath as she rolls the dolly dangerously close to Laudna's boots "—it sucked. You must be so patient!"
Laudna actually isn't. She is just good at pretending to be.
"I try my best," Laudna says demurely. She gestures to an empty spot she has cleared for this particular arrival. It's only more monitors and desktops with their peripherals included because for once Zhudanna has remembered to inform her of an influx of new hires. Apparently, they now need a social media marketing team.
Dusk continues on, her mouth working a mile a minute as she comes back and forth until Laudna has her grand total of twelve boxes. It's mildly impressive the way that Dusk doesn't even break a sweat and Laudna wonders if she might be willing to share her workout routine.
She remembers the flash of Imogen's eyes the last time she had shown a little muscle. Maybe she is into that kind of thing. Laudna's woodworking keeps her plenty capable, but she fears the definition is missing.
"Do you work out?" Laudna asks abruptly, only slightly guilty as she cuts off the uninteresting anecdote about one of Dusk's coworkers.
Dusk comes to a freeze, her hands still on the small electronic pad that Laudna was meant to sign soon. She looks up at Laudna, a bashful smile curling her lips and her eyes a little wide. "You noticed?"
Laudna nods. "Yes," she gestures vaguely at all the boxes. "Impressive."
Dusk softens, her boot digging a small circle into the ground. "I could—I could show you," she offers and again she looks up at Laudna with round eyes and soft lips.
Laudna hikes a thumb over her shoulder, "I have a pen and pad at my desk."
"Oh," Dusk's smile dims just a fraction, but she perks up just as quickly. "Yeah, sure, I could give you my number."
Laudna blinks. Right, of course, the weights would be important even if Laudna might have to downsize. Maybe Dusk would factor that into her equation.
"I'm still a beginner," Laudna says as she leads Dusk up the small hall that leads to the empty offices and eventually to Laudna's cubicle. "You should know that before you give me any numbers."
Dusk lets out a strangled sound, her voice oddly high as she says, "That's—That's alright. I can—I mean, I've—I'm not the most experienced myself. I mean—I'm no slouch, of course, but we can—I'm sure you'll be great at it."
Laudna smiles over her shoulder, "I'll just have to take your word for it." After all, Dusk had barely been winded and even Laudna still struggles under the behemoth of some of the PC boxes. She produces the pen and pad once they make it to her desk and Laudna excuses the way Dusk gets too close on account of her helping Laudna in the first place.
Dusk lingers after she scratches out a series of numbers on Laudna's pad and Laudna's brows flex together as she tries to piece together what more she could want. She is just about to ask when the keycard beeps and the door to the IT department is flinging open.
She watches Imogen bustle in, a wide grin on her face and her lips parted like she's going to launch into a spiel of some kind like she normally does. It's equally perplexing when Imogen's smile melts away, her eyes narrowing on Dusk and the way she is leaned casually against Laudna's desk.
Laudna is sure she's not supposed to find the way her features darken and her mouth purses adorable and yet. She is still wonderfully beautiful even if she looks pissed. Maybe the Emon counterparts have infuriated her again. Laudna couldn't wait to hear all about it.
"Hi, Imogen," Laudna says, her lips curling into an instinctive smile.
"Hey," Imogen greets, her tone a little flat, her lips barely twitching. "I can come back if you're busy."
Laudna's brow twists, her jaw hinging open to tell Imogen she is never too busy for an impromptu visit. Only Laudna's words are eaten up by Dusk.
"Thanks," Dusk says, her head twisting in Imogen's direction and her hand reaching out to cup Laudna's shoulder. "We were kinda talking about something important."
Imogen bristles, her posture going ramrod straight. She stares at Dusk for a long moment and then her entire face falls. "Right," she says slowly, falling on her back foot as she takes one step away. "Sure."
"I'll text you when we're done," Laudna tells her, a little stab of anxiety curling in her belly at the look on Imogen's face. She would just send Dusk away and meet Imogen in her office. Maybe the Emon counterparts have really pissed her off.
Imogen exits just as quickly as she arrived and Laudna hears a mournful little tune as she goes, like an audience sighing in collective disappointment.
"So, anyway," Dusk says, waving her hand like she's clearing the air. "Do you wanna get dinner sometime?"
Laudna balks, "Oh, no, thank you." She stands abruptly, "Did you have anything else or are we done here?"
Dusk blinks "Uh, no," she cards a hand through her hair sheepishly. "No I guess I'll just wait for you to—" she gestures at the pad on Laudna's desk with a wide smile.
"Right, of course," Laudna thanks her again for the assistance, even walks Dusk back to her truck and feels proud of herself for a social interaction well done.
The collection of numbers hardly makes sense when Laudna looks it over again and Laudna wonders if maybe she'd been mistaken by asking Dusk for help to begin with. She thinks maybe Ashton will make better sense of them—they were into fitness at one point, Laudna thinks—but she hardly feels better when Ashton responds to her text with a series of question marks.
Laudna sends him a voice note recap as she slinks her way out of her office to find Imogen. Only Imogen's office is empty and her text is left on delivered.
"Oh, hello Laudna." If Allura thinks it odd that Laudna is loitering just outside Imogen's shut office door, she certainly doesn't say. "Were you looking for Imogen?"
"Yes," Laudna sighs in relief. "Yes, I was."
Allura's smile is sympathetic. "I'm afraid you just missed her, my dear. She went home early, said she wasn't feeling well."
Laudna feels a pocket of unease well in her gut. She only just saw Imogen twenty minutes ago. Did she come down with something that quickly? Or maybe Imogen was coming to tell her she didn't feel well to begin with and Laudna had just sent her away—
"Thank you," Laudna squeaks out. "I'll just—" she points vaguely behind herself and Allura offers her a singular nod and a knowing smile before she heads back into her own office.
The buzz in her pocket is almost a relief until she realizes it's not Imogen who has texted her.
You're such a dumb ass, Ashton's text reads. That's literally a phone number
So, she missed hanging out with Imogen and didn't even have a usable workout plan to impress her either?
It only serves to add insult to injury.
Laudna: Allura said you went home sick. Are you alright?
Laudna: I can send you some food. The restaurant we went to last month has really good soup!
Laudna: You probably want to rest
Laudna: I hope you feel better Imogen
Laudna: Did you want to get lunch today?
Laudna: Pretty's has a burger special and your favorite beer on tap
Laudna: Imogen, are you okay? I'm starting to get concerned
Imogen💜💰: Sorry, I got pulled into a last minute meeting. I'll have to skip on lunch today. Thanks tho!
Laudna: Dinner?
Imogen💜💰: Prob gonna be working late you should just go without me
Laudna: I can wait?
Imogen💜💰: No its alright
Imogen💜💰: Hey I had something come up and I can't make it to Monday dinner
Imogen💜💰: I'm sorry
"Where's Imogen?"
Laudna smiles and feels like it tugs unnaturally at her cheeks. "She had something come up. She sends her regards." She hopes her lie is enough. She hopes that reaching for Elliot from Vex's arms is enough to throw off the bitter scent of melancholy that she feels like clings to every pore. She hopes that Vex'ahlia will not notice anything amiss at all.
Dinner is like going through motions long familiar through muscle memory while her mind strays to the glaring emptiness she feels center mass. She cannot help the feeling that she has done something wrong and she is exhausted from the mental gymnastics of trying to figure it all out.
It feels as though she is missing something. The longer it evades her, the tighter she winds herself in knots.
By the time dinner is wrapping up, Laudna is ready to sink into her mattress and sleep for the rest of her life. She should have known the moment freedom is right in her reach that her luck would run out.
"What happened?" Keyleth asks knowingly and when Laudna stares at her silently, Keyleth's face softens. "I won't tell her if you don't want me to." She even sticks out her pinky for a promise so Laudna knows she is serious.
Laudna tells her everything.
"You should just ask her," Keyleth tells her after they have sat in silence listening to Vex'ahlia chase after unruly babies for bath time and pajamas. "Maybe something else happened. Maybe it has nothing to do with you." She doesn't even sound like she believes it herself, but Laudna clings to the belief with both hands.
"Alright," Laudna agrees. "Do I just—" she gestures vaguely and Keyleth lets out a short laugh.
"Ask exactly what you mean," Keyleth says and she reaches for Laudna's hand to give a tight squeeze. "We're here for you no matter what, okay? Whatever it is. Well, you're a really good person, Laudna, and you'll find someone eventually. I just don't want you to be jaded over this if it doesn't go your way."
Laudna ruminates on that in silence. It would be the hardest thing in her life to lose such a precious thing. It only makes her more determined to fix it all.
Vex'ahlia barrels back down the stairs in a mini stampede. The second she locks eyes with Laudna, she says, "And now what the fuck is wrong with you? Where is Imogen? Why do you look like someone called Pâté ugly?" The questions come so rapid-fire that Laudna can only huff a laugh to buy herself time to think.
Keyleth comes to her rescue once more. "She was just leaving, baby," and she winks at Laudna as she heaves herself up from her chair with an exaggerated sigh. "Do you think you can run me a bath? My back is killing me."
The distraction works perfectly because Vex'ahlia reaches for her to help her up and Laudna is placed on the back burner as Vex'ahlia fusses over her pregnant wife.
"Of course, darling. Do you want lavender or Epsom salt? I can make you some tea as well."
Laudna slips out unquestioned by the skin of her teeth.
Laudna spends most of the morning psyching herself up to walk to Imogen's office, but it isn't until late in the afternoon that she actually manages to get up. She is undoubtedly worried about what she will say when she finally sees her again, has already thought of a series of things she could have done wrong to have deserved this, and she is partially in a frenzy as she calls the elevator down to the first floor.
Imagine Laudna's surprise at Imogen Temult's equally-surprised face as the doors ding open.
For a moment, Laudna feels hope well in her chest at the idea of Imogen coming down to see her. It's dashed away in the next second when she realizes Imogen looks like she is going home.
Her purse hangs in the crook of her elbow, a purple lunch bag dangling next to it that Laudna eyes in barely-concealed contempt. Her keys and phone are clutched in her left hand and the coffee cup in her left hand almost buckles under her white knuckle grip.
"Laudna," Imogen breathes out in surprise, "What are—what are you doing?"
"I was coming up to see you, actually," Laudna informs her flatly. "Are you—" she checks her watch briefly to assure herself that she is not going insane. 3:57 p.m. "Are you leaving?"
Imogen's face flexes into a grimace. "Uh yeah."
"It's not even four," Laudna says slowly, heat brewing in her cheeks alongside the coil of anger in her belly.
The guilt that flashes across Imogen's face does nothing to assuage her. "I—I switched to—I switched my hours." Her eyes dart frantically over Laudna's face, almost like she is desperate for something Laudna doesn't have the wherewithal to piece together with the way her heart pounds in her ears. "For—For my meetings," she tacks on weakly, like she has not spent the last two weeks actively avoiding Laudna.
The elevator doors ding to signal the call of the elevator to a different floor. Laudna's hand reaches out to grip the door before she even processes the movement.
Imogen lets out an audible gulp.
"Yes, you seem to have a lot of those as of late." Laudna can feel the bubble of disappointment welling so thickly. It has been so long since she has felt it, it almost threatens to topple her over. She never considered it would be Imogen as the cause.
Imogen's eyes gloss immediately, particularly shimmering in the elevator's lights. Red splashes across her cheeks and splotches down her neck "I've been busy," she defends weakly, but even Laudna can tell that she doesn't believe her own words.
"Of course," Laudna doesn't even attempt a smile. She pulls her hand away from the elevator doors and steps away to give Imogen space to step out. "My mistake. I wouldn't want to keep you." She spins on her heel to leave before her anger can turn to embarrassment and her embarrassment can turn to tears.
"Laudna, wait," Imogen calls out desperately and Laudna hates herself for grinding to a stop and turning to face her. She looks particularly miserable, but her lips part open and nothing comes out besides a squeaky little, "I'm sorry." She practically flees down the exit hallway and Laudna watches her go.
She stares after her for so long, cycling between indignation and heartbreak and anger and frustration until she is so full she can't breathe. She is moving before she can think better of it. She chases after Imogen's footsteps, paying no mind to the icy blast of rain when she pushes the door to the parking lot open.
The rain barrels down in thick sheets, loud and thunderous and perfectly synonymous with the way Laudna's head is full and tired and hurt and confused. She spots Imogen immediately.
"Imogen!"
Imogen's head snaps up, her eyes wide as saucers as she fumbles with her keys. "Laudna, what the fuck are you doing? It's pouring out here!"
Laudna hardly cares as she eats up the distance between them. She shuts Imogen's car door on instinct.
"Laudna!" Imogen bristles in indignation, but she doesn't open the door herself.
"What did I do?" Laudna demands. Keyleth said to ask exactly what she meant. Laudna needs to know. If she knows, then she can fix it. If she knows, then she can fix it and everything will go back to normal.
Imogen's eyes widen. "What?"
"What did I do?" Laudna asks again and this time she cannot help the plea in her voice. "Why are you avoiding me? Imogen, just tell me what I did. I'm sorry, I can fix it, just tell me." She can't even bring herself to feel embarrassed about her own desperation. She just needs to know where she went wrong, why Imogen is shutting her out—
The rain pelts down on them in icy spikes, but Laudna hardly feels it.
Imogen's face flexes into something so miserable that Laudna feels her breath hitch. She reaches for Laudna's hands, holds them tight in her shaking grip. "You didn't do anything, honey," she assures firmly. "It was—It was my fault. I misunderstood. I'm sorry."
"What did you misunderstand?" Laudna questions immediately. If Laudna could just know what went wrong then she could fix it.
Imogen grimaces, "Laudna."
"Please," Laudna whispers, her heart hammering in her throat. "Tell me." She can fix this.
Imogen looks like she has to visibly steel herself, such a brave, brave girl and Laudna misses her like a limb that has been cut from her own body. She would do anything to get back to where they were.
"I thought—I thought you were as interested in me as I was in you," Imogen says, her voice a little hoarse with tears, but her chin juts out like she is prepared to take the consequences that come with that statement.
Laudna waits a beat, makes sure her brain has heard properly, that she has not made this up in some kind of anxious hallucination, but Imogen remains in front of her, stubborn and all the more miserable for it.
"I am," Laudna declares and then there is nothing but the rain sheeting down around them.
Imogen blinks, droplets of water collecting on her lashes. "What?" she says around a hitched breath. She blinks again like she does not believe Laudna is real and Laudna reaches for her cheeks. Imogen's fingers wrap around Laudna's wrist like an anchor, but she doesn't pull Laudna off of her.
Laudna presses closer, their foreheads practically touching. "Can I kiss you?" she asks like a man dying of thirst begging for water, "Please?"
Imogen is already leaning up before she murmurs out a desperate little, "Yes."
Laudna has dreamed of kissing her for so long that she almost forgets to move her body. She leans down to connect their lips and she thinks she finally understands what everyone is always harping on about. She thinks she finally understands why the movies always have the firework explosion with the kiss scenes.
Kissing Imogen is like every nerve in her body lights up. Kissing Imogen is like being aware of every atom in the universe because it slows just for them.
Laudna never wants to do anything ever again but this. Their kiss heats up despite the cold slither of rain along their skin and Laudna feels warmth bloom in her chest and radiate outward.
Imogen's hands are curled around her cheeks so tightly, like she is scared the second she lets go that Laudna will move away. Laudna will never leave her alone after this.
Laudna doesn't dare to pull away, even when her head swims from a lack of oxygen, even when a groan rumbles its way out of her throat. It’s Imogen in the end who separates their lips, but she barely moves back at all.
"Do you wanna come back to mine?" Imogen voice has gone throaty, her fingers tracing over Laudna's lips and the stormy gray-blue of her eyes thinned in desire.
"My place is closer."
It’s a mad rush to get out of their wet clothes that is hindered by the way they cannot keep their hands off of each other. Poor Pâté almost gets trampled over in his exuberance to greet them before he seems to realize they are not playing with him. He sulks his way to the couch in a huff that Laudna promises to soothe way, way later.
Laudna flattens Imogen against every available surface on the way, marvels at the way Imogen is perfectly submissive one second and then backing Laudna up to be pinned the next. It’s horribly arousing in a way that has Laudna's heart pounding between her legs like she's never quite experienced before.
She is only partially mournful about not being able to give Imogen the full tour until Imogen is peeling off her shirt and Laudna feels her brain grind to a halt.
There's a wet sheen across Imogen's bare flesh, faint goosebumps rippling along her skin from the chill, and her bra is a lovely, lovely lavender, but Laudna feels her eyes widen at the tattoo ink covering Imogen's skin.
The tattoo curves under the swell of her breasts and connects to the valley between them. It's floral in nature, flowers and vines sprawling into the face of a dragon laid perfectly symmetrical in the center.
Her fingers trace along the ink with growing curiosity and Imogen leans into the touch.
"I didn't know you had a tattoo," Laudna breathes out. The knowledge settles warmly below the belt. Imogen is such an enigma—soft and rebellious and wild and orderly.
Imogen's lips curve into a cheeky smile as she reaches for the top-most button on Laudna's shirt. She is slow and methodical as she loosens each button from its hole, like she is giving Laudna plenty of time to stop her if Laudna so wishes.
Laudna does not want her to stop.
"Do you like it?" Imogen asks and Laudna blinks down at her with her heart roaring in her ears. The smile on Imogen's face grows amused. "My tattoo," she clarifies when Laudna can only stare at her dumbly.
Imogen pushes Laudna's button down off her shoulders, her hands smoothing down Laudna's torso until she can reach for the band of Laudna's tank top, but she doesn't pull it off just yet.
"Mhm," Laudna manages to squeak out.
Imogen's smile deepens and then she's peeling Laudna out of her tank top. The damp fabric hardly hits the ground before Imogen is on her again. She kisses Laudna hotly, their skin pressed together and warming quickly.
"Wait until you see the rest," Imogen murmurs impishly against Laudna's lips. She presses at Laudna's hips to separate them and then reaches for the clasp of her bra. Only she turns at the last second, her back to Laudna as she peels it away and tosses it to the floor.
Laudna is hardly prepared for the entirety of her back to be tattooed, too. It's a lovely expanse of color, what looks like a night sky in the midst of a storm in purples and reds and grays. It's the most beautiful tableau of imagery Laudna has ever seen.
"Fuck," Laudna can't help but breathe.
Imogen looks over her shoulder with a roguish grin. Her hands work at the band of her jeans. "Yeah? That doin' it for you, baby?" She climbs out of her pants with a wet slap.
"Maybe," Laudna answer honestly. "I—I think—I think you're the most beautiful creature I've ever laid eyes on."
Imogen softens, her smile a little besotted as she closes the gap between them again. She knocks Laudna's frozen fingers away from her own buttons and undoes Laudna's pants swiftly. She doesn't even have to look away from Laudna's eyes as she does. "You don't have to keep sweet talkin' me, I'm already gonna fuck you, honey."
Laudna lets out a strangled squeak, "Oh." Imogen presses gently against her belly until Laudna is sprawled back onto her own bed and Imogen makes quick work of pulling her pants all the way off her ankles. "That—That's nice of you."
Imogen lets out a huff of laughter. "God, Laud, you drive me crazy," she says around a shaky exhale.
Imogen straddles her lap with purpose, lacing their fingers together and pinning their joined hands above Laudna's head. She fuses their mouths together again, her body slinking closer and writhing against her with no question of just how far she wants to take things.
"Wait—" Laudna breathes around a heaving chest. As loath as she is to grind this to a halt, the confession burns at the back of her throat until it spills out of her lips, "I've never done this before."
Imogen ceases the hot line of kisses she was peppering against Laudna's jawline, her hands loosening on Laudna's hands as she draws back with a worried expression on her face. "Like… at all?" She looks down at Laudna with flushed cheeks and a visible gulp.
Laudna shakes her head slowly. She is nervous once again that she has ruined this before it can truly begin, but the worry is fleeting with the way Imogen softens.
"We can slow down," Imogen says sincerely, her fingers tapping gently at Laudna's wrist.
Laudna swallows thickly. "I don't want to."
Imogen blinks, a slow smile blooming across her lips. "Yeah?"
"Yeah," Laudna says and then with much more confidence she has ever felt in her life, she works an arm around Imogen's waist and flips them so Imogen is flat on her back.
Imogen lets out a girlish giggle, her hair fanning out around her and her hands lifting to cup the sides of Laudna's neck. "Smooth," she says on a shuddering exhale.
"Will you tell me?" Laudna whispers, nudging her nose against Imogen's and then kissing her because she can't help herself. "What you like and if it feels good?"
"Mhm," Imogen squeaks out, "Yes, you bet."
They both call in sick the next day.
They spend most of the morning in bed together. The sun has risen high enough in the sky to draw them from sleep, but neither one of them is particularly inclined to get up just yet.
Pâté dozes at the edge of the bed and Imogen rests against her chest while Laudna's fingers run a trail over her naked, tattooed back. It's the happiest Laudna has ever, ever been in her life and she almost pinches herself to make sure she isn't dreaming.
"Can I ask you something?"
Imogen lets out a lazy hum of agreement, almost like she could fall asleep at a moment’s notice.
"What happened?" Laudna asks and it’s truly only the tranquility of the morning, the knowledge of everything they've done the night prior, that she even dares herself to ask.
Imogen stiffens minutely, but she doesn't pull away. She turns her head on Laudna's chest, a sheepish smile on her face as she tells Laudna, "Thought you weren't interested in me."
Laudna guffaws a laugh. "Impossible," she says. "I've thought of nothing but you since the moment we met."
Imogen's face colors gorgeously, her cheek pressing a little further into Laudna's skin like she is trying to hide away. "Yeah, same," she says around a wistful sigh.
"So, then you had to have had a reason to think that," Laudna muses. "What was it?"
Imogen lets out a low grumble, "Does it even matter now? You've already fucked me. It's not like I'm gonna let you go." She sounds particularly confident about this and Laudna thinks she should be embarrassed about being so thoroughly snared, but it only makes her pleasantly warm. She would hardly put up a fight, but it is nice to know that Imogen wouldn't let her leave without one.
Laudna feels heat spread across her cheeks, a wry smile tugging the corner of her lips. She brushes her fingers along Imogen's jawline just because she can. "You are so crass."
Imogen only grins. "It's part of my charm," she says smugly and then her smile gets a whole lot more coquettish as she asks, "Do you like it?"
Laudna thinks she likes the needling tone of her voice best of all. She wiggles her way down until she can kiss Imogen on the lips, is hardly surprised but entirely delighted when Imogen deepens it immediately. She is entirely insatiable, but Laudna has limitless energy saved up just for her.
Imogen's hands curl into her hair, her nails raking against Laudna's scalp and Laudna doesn't mean to find her way between Imogen's legs, but she lands there anyway. Caught and snared. Maybe she should give Imogen more credit for being sneaky. She pulls away before Imogen can get too carried away.
"Are you going to answer honestly?" Laudna murmurs against her lips. She thinks maybe it doesn't matter, not if the end has gotten them here, but Laudna is not in the business of repeating mistakes so—
Imogen lets out a sigh. Her hands fall from Laudna's mess of her to instead cup the sides of her neck. She looks particularly chagrined. "Promise you won't laugh at me?"
Laudna's lips purse. "I want to say yes," she drawls teasingly. "But I wouldn't want to lie either."
"Cheeky," Imogen huffs, but she lets Laudna off the hook. She looks away from Laudna's face then, a pout falling across her lips. "I thought you were into that delivery driver," she practically grinds out, her brows flexing together in annoyance before they smooth out once more.
Laudna blinks down at her in confusion. "What delivery driver?"
"The one with the hair," Imogen grumbles, her fingers twisting into the curling hair at the nape of Laudna's neck. "With her stupid hand on your shoulder," she shoves Laudna away by the shoulders suddenly. "You let me think you were into her! Were you trying to make me jealous?"
For a moment Laudna thinks she is joking. There is no way Imogen actually thinks Laudna was into Dusk. Except Imogen is staring at her expectantly, her eyes narrowed in a glare, and Laudna is suddenly glad Imogen had not made her promise not to laugh with the way she feels laughter rising up her throat.
"Laudna!" Imogen whines, shoving at Laudna's shoulder again. "It's not funny! I thought you guys were fucking down there!"
Laudna only laughs harder. She reaches for Imogen, who halfheartedly pushes against her before acquiescing when Laudna bundles her up in her arms. "I wasn't," she clarifies when she is finally able to stop laughing. "I wish you would have said something."
"Yeah, well," Imogen grumbles. "It hurt my feelings."
Laudna hums, but is only partially sympathetic. "You avoiding me hurt mine."
Imogen sighs, pressing a kiss to the underside of Laudna's jaw. "I'm sorry," she says sincerely. "I didn't know what to say and I was worried I'd, like, burst into tears or something if I saw you. I must have typed out a hundred text messages and then never sent any. It sucked without you," her voice is suspiciously thick, but Laudna only holds her a little closer. "I ate a fuckin' salad yesterday, Laudna, it was awful."
Laudna smiles into the crown of her hair. It's bolstering to hear that Imogen was just as miserable as she was. It is lovely to know that her feelings were reciprocated the whole time. "I should make you eat a salad again for the years you've shaved off my life," she says flatly.
Imogen's back shakes in her grip, but her laughter is quiet. Her hand cups the side of Laudna's neck, her lips pressing to Laudna's jaw again but with a lot more teeth. "Let me make it up to you," she whispers against Laudna's skin. "I'm shit with words anyway."
Laudna is hardly one to deny her.
They manage to roll themselves out of bed eventually because Imogen gets a hankering for ice cream and Laudna has never been able to say no to her while she was clothed, let alone when she is naked and lying on Laudna's chest. They pile into her Jeep and over to the closest ice cream parlor despite not even having breakfast.
There is something to be said about the sight of Imogen in one of her T-shirts and the smallest pair of shorts Laudna can scrounge up, but her brain is too busy trying to process the sight in front of her to form words.
"I'm thinkin' vanilla," Imogen clings to her forearm with one hand and keeps their fingers laced with the other. She rocks up onto the tips of her toes to look into the case of ice cream and Laudna is sure she's still fucking dreaming.
She feels different and not. She feels like she has given away a piece of herself, but collected a piece of Imogen in return. The memory of Imogen naked, the memory of the way Imogen sounded, the memory of the way her hands had felt—
"What 'bout you, baby?"
Laudna blinks, cheeks flushing red as Imogen's head turns toward her expectantly. She smiles up at Laudna with her steely-blue eyes and innocent little smile, but Laudna knows it’s all just a ruse. The heat in her cheeks only deepens.
"Laudna," Imogen laughs, her lips curving into a smirk that edges on knowing. Her nails dig briefly into the skin of Laudna's forearm, only a touch lighter than the way she'd raked them down Laudna's back—
"Are you even listenin' to me?" Imogen's voice sweetens as she draws closer. The swell of her breasts press against Laudna's arm and now that Laudna has a very clear image of what they look like—
"Yes," Laudna manages to squeak out. "Ice cream."
Imogen lets out another laugh, her forehead colliding with Laudna's bicep affectionately. "I need you to focus," she says when she looks up at Laudna again. If this was before, Laudna would have thought her exceptionally soft with the way she flutters her lashes along her cheeks. "We're in public," she reminds, but her eyes dart pointedly to Laudna's lips.
Laudna lets out a stuttery exhale. "Right, yes," she looks away from Imogen's lovely face in the hopes of clearing her own thoughts. Maybe the ice cream would do well for the way she feels hot and spiky all over.
Imogen leans up on her tippy toes, her grip on Laudna's arm tightening as she brushes her lips along Laudna's jawline. "You can fuck me later. Promise."
Laudna is sure she won't survive. She has gotten the very thing she has yearned for for so long and she won’t even live long enough to enjoy it. Her greed will be her own downfall.
"C'mon, honey," Imogen is sugary once more, dragging Laudna further down the display case now. "I'll even buy it for you."
Laudna manages to pull herself together once Imogen orders for them. She adds so many toppings to her own ice cream that Laudna's fondness wells much larger than the liquid heat in her veins. By the time they are sitting in a small booth ducked in the corner, Laudna can almost pretend everything is normal.
Imogen's shoe still taps against her shins, her hand still reaches across the table to hold Laudna's. Everything is as it once was. Except for the fact that Laudna's mouth has sucked a bruise into the column of Imogen's throat that looks worse in the daylight. Except for the fact that Imogen is wearing Laudna's clothes because hers were wet and she spent the night. Except for the fact that they both called in to work to lounge naked—
"Do you wanna talk about it?" Imogen asks softly, but she does not look away from where she is rooting around her ice cream bowl for more chocolate pieces.
Laudna is not sure she contains the capacity to put thoughts into words.
"'Cause we can if you want," Imogen continues on and this time she does look up. "The starin' is—You're kinda freakin' me out, baby, just tell me what's on your—"
"We had sex," Laudna blurts out. "We had so much sex."
Imogen's lips twitch almost like she is going to smile before her mouth forms a serious line instead. She nods very gravely. "We did," and then her voice goes a touch wistful, "Really, really good sex, too." Her shoe taps against Laudna's shin in quick succession before falling away. "Sure you were a virgin?" Her tone is clearly teasing, but—
"You don't care that I was?" Logically, Laudna knows that the entire night has come and gone. They have already reached a point of no return and while they have yet to part from each other's side, Laudna still can't believe it is this easy.
Imogen softens, her focus shifting from her ice cream to Laudna's face. She squeezes reassuringly at their intertwined palms. "Only in the sense that I wanted it to be good for you," she says earnestly. "I don't mind teachin', baby. You're a quick learner," her smile dips into something a little smug for just a second before it edges into something soft and sweet, like she is taking this conversation seriously, like she cares about Laudna—
"You've called me baby three times," Laudna informs her, her heartrate up-ticking just a fraction.
Imogen is nonplussed. "Uh huh," she confirms. "Do you like it? I've got a whole list to try out."
Laudna does, in fact, like it. She thinks any pet name Imogen can think of would still make her feel warm and fuzzy just because it is Imogen bestowing it upon her. It doesn't change the fact that Laudna is unsure where they go from here. There is no awkwardness, no mad rush on Imogen's part to flee, and while Laudna knows logically everything is alright, it feels a little too good to be true.
"Imogen," Laudna says abruptly and then much to her horror her words fail her.
Imogen only squeezes her hand again, the smile never faltering on her face. "Laudna."
Laudna swallows thickly. Her eyes bounce between Imogen's hand holding her own, her sweatshirt hanging off Imogen's shoulders, the bruise at the notch of her throat, the shimmer of affection in Imogen's eyes and she thinks she knows the answer, but—
"What are we doing?" The words rush out of her before she can stop them, before she can filter the cringe high school-esque mindset, and for a second she wishes she was more like Vex. She is effortlessly cool in a way Laudna can only dream of. She wouldn't sit across from someone she knew intimately and ask for clarification. She would just know and Laudna wishes—
Imogen clears her throat, pink brewing in her cheeks and a nervous smile creeping over her lips. "I was kinda hopin' we were datin' now. Like exclusively. Like," she swallows again, the flush in her cheeks deepening, "Like I want you to be my girl."
The heat rises to her own cheeks instantaneously. There is nothing but sincerity on Imogen's face despite the shy curl of her lips.
Laudna's knee bangs against their table with the sudden lurch forward. "Yes," she says breathlessly, almost halfway across the table in case Imogen has suddenly lost the ability to hear. "Yes, I would—I would like that."
"Cool," Imogen chirps, her entire face a soft pink now. "Cool, yeah—so that's—so you're my girlfriend now—sorry my hands are sweatin'—" she makes to pull her hand back, but Laudna only latches on tighter.
"And you’re mine?" Laudna has to ask, has to check, has to be sure. It is too good to be true. Surely, she has schemed too hard, surely she has tricked Imogen into—
Imogen softens, "Yeah, baby, I’m yours."
The grin spreads across Laudna's face without her permission. It's too wide, too bewildered, but Imogen smiles, too, until they are both giggling over melted ice cream.
Laudna truly can't believe her own luck.
It's like a bottle being uncorked. Once it's been popped, there is no resealing the bottle.
"Fuck," Imogen pants for breath, her hand flapping at Laudna's shoulders to draw her up. "God, how are you so good at that already?"
Laudna kisses her way back up Imogen's quivering belly, a smug grin curling at her lips. "You taste good," she says earnestly and Imogen guffaws a laugh and kisses Laudna until they both laugh.
"I've always kind of been obsessed with your mouth," Imogen sighs dreamily, her thumb brushing across Laudna's lips. "But now for a different reason."
"Oh?" Laudna hums in absolute delight. "Is that all you're obsessed with?"
Imogen flips Laudna onto her back, a predatory grin on her lips as she kisses her way down Laudna's taut abdomen. She nips at an already-purple bruise in the shape of her mouth with relish.
"Not even close, baby."
Going back to work is particularly torturous, but they agree to no funny business on the clock.
That rule goes up in flames two days later when Imogen shows up to their lunch date—it is actually a date now, isn't it—in a fucking mini skirt and thigh-high boots like she is the definition of the word temptation.
Laudna tries. She really truly does. It's just as much Imogen's fault when Laudna bends her over her desk and blows through the entirety of their lunch hour before they even eat food.
It happens again when Imogen wears a flowing dress and sits herself atop Laudna's desk. She crosses one leg over the other cheekily and Laudna's anecdote stutters to halt when she catches the flash of nothing underneath.
"You do this on purpose," Laudna gripes as she sinks to her knees, her hands gripping tight enough to Imogen's thighs to dent the supple flesh beneath.
Imogen grins down at her breathlessly, her fingers curling into Laudna's hair as she re-balances on her palm. "They're just gonna get wet anyway," she tells Laudna unabashedly. "No sense in wearing them anymore."
Laudna winds up bruising her knees, but it's worth it in the end.
By the end of the week, it’s habitual. A Pavlovian response even when Laudna hears the beep of the keypad. She feels her belly swoop low in anticipation when the door swings open.
She slides her desk chair from behind her desk, watches Imogen walk down the hall towards her with an extra sway in her hips and a very familiar glimmer in her eye.
"You super busy?"
Laudna shakes her head slowly, her hands already clawing a grip into the leather armrests of her chair. "No," she says softly and she doesn't get to ask why before Imogen is climbing into her lap.
"Think you can make me come in twenty minutes?"
Laudna manages it in ten, but only because she tries to take her time.
They still have dinner every night, but now Laudna gets to take her home after, too. They all but abandon Imogen's car in the work parking lot until Imogen's giant purple spend-the-night bag grows empty.
It’s a horribly domestic slice of life and Laudna still can't believe it's real.
Imogen even loves Pâté. She thinks him adorable and lovely even though Laudna knows his misshapen muzzle can be distasteful.
"You never ask about it," Laudna comments one night.
They are lounging on Laudna's couch. Imogen's naked back is pressed to her front, a throw blanket wrapped around the both of them. The remnants of their dinner sits demolished on the coffee table and Pâté has settled atop their legs now that the food is all gone.
Imogen's hands pet vigorously behind his ears, semi distracted as she responds with, "Ask what, honey?"
"About his mouth," Laudna clarifies. She lets her hand join the fray to pet the top of Pâté's head and though he enjoys Imogen very much, he moves his head firmly into Laudna's hand.
His muzzle is disfigured, the remnants of a devastating blow to the face with a bat at the hands of owners who'd abused him. He'd been abandoned at a shelter and scheduled to be euthanized before Laudna had adopted him—garish muzzle, vet fees, and all.
"Doesn't matter," Imogen says firmly and she cups his jowls in her hands and lilts her voice into a coo that works Pâté's tail into a frenzy. "He's just a sweet baby boy. Aren't you, Pâté? So handsome, just like your mama." She looks back at Laudna then, an impish smile on her lips that only grows when Laudna blushes hotly.
"Flirt," Laudna grumbles, even though the line works on her anyway.
"It could be fun," Imogen says, her chin hooked around Laudna's shoulder as she watches Laudna fiddle with the strap-on harness she brought over in her overnight bag.
Laudna understands it logically, is even a little more than curious about it in a way that isn't just faint interest, but still. "What if I'm not good at it?"
Imogen lets out a laugh that is much more raspy than her normal one. Her nails rake a trail across Laudna's shirtless belly. "Something tells me you're gonna be a natural," she says around a breathy little sigh. Her fingers dip just below the band of Laudna's boxers to tease. "I can do all the work if you want."
How is Laudna supposed to say no to that?
Imogen is right, as it turns out, and Laudna can't even be mad at her smug little smile as she curls around Laudna's pillows.
Eventually they have to take things seriously. It's not even Laudna who brings it up, but Imogen, and Laudna feels warmth blossom in her chest at the realization that Imogen values their relationship and sees it working for the long haul.
"Ready?" Imogen asks with a slightly nervous smile. She refolds the collar of Laudna's shirt, adjusts Laudna's lanyard so it is tucked neatly beneath it, and then smooths her hands down Laudna's chest like she is trying to soothe herself.
"Yes," Laudna says and then she lets herself tuck a lock of Imogen's hair behind her ear, thumbs at the stud in the second set of earring holes. "It's alright to be nervous."
Imogen smiles sheepishly. "Just never done it before is all," she tells Laudna, pressing her face a little more firmly into Laudna's palm. "I don't know what to expect."
"Well," Laudna tells her, leaning down to brush her lips against Imogen's forehead. "I'll be with you the whole time," she promises and Imogen smiles exceptionally sweetly so Laudna has to kiss her on the lips this time.
Zhudanna looks momentarily confused at the sight of both of them in her office, but then her lips part into a very large grin when Imogen stammers her way through asking for a written formality for their relationship.
Laudna stands beside her holding her hand with a stupid grin and pride dripping off her in waves.
When they are finally finished and back in the safety of Laudna's office, Imogen exhales a huge breath of relief. She curls herself onto Laudna's lap and smiles like she wasn’t halfway to a panic attack.
"That was easy," Imogen declares and Laudna is so in love with her it almost hurts.
"I don't know why you're so nervous," Laudna notes gently. "You've met them already."
Imogen whirls away from where she is ripping apart the two drawers Laudna has gifted her. The overnight bag was not giving Imogen enough outfits to last the entire duration of a week and Laudna cleared the two biggest drawers of her dresser without even being asked.
"This is different, Laud," Imogen whines. "I'm your girlfriend now. It's serious." She looks a little ridiculous standing in only her underwear in front of a fully-dressed Laudna. They even left work early to give her more time to get ready.
"Sweetheart, they're not going to care what you're wearing," Laudna tries to diffuse. She rises from the bed with her hands outstretched placatingly. Imogen pouts, but she doesn't push out of Laudna's reach.
Laudna cups her hips with gentle hands and presses a kiss to her extended lower lip. "Why don't you wear the first dress? It looked very lovely."
"Yeah, but what if the kids want to play?" Imogen dismisses immediately. "I don't wanna flash my thong!"
Laudna's lips curve into a fond smile, "You could wear shorts."
Imogen huffs, pushing warningly at Laudna's belly, "Laudna, be serious."
"Imogen," Laudna says softly. "What is this really about?"
Imogen doesn't say anything for a long moment. She keeps her gaze downcast, but toys with the buttons of Laudna's shirt. After a long moment, she says, "I missed Monday dinner."
"Yes," Laudna agrees easily. "But I understand why you did."
Imogen's eyes find hers, narrowed at the edges and a little more serious than Laudna expects. "Do you?" she questions sharply. "It doesn't make it okay. It means a lot to you and I know after your brother—It just—It was stupid of me—"
"Imogen," Laudna cuts in gently, shifting her grip so she can cup Imogen's cheeks instead. Her heart fractures just a little at the glossy sheen to Imogen's eyes. "It's alright," she says genuinely. "I forgive you."
Imogen's lower lip wobbles dangerously, but she pulls herself together remarkably quickly. "Do they know we were fightin'?" she asks almost inaudibly. "That I was bein' a bitch to you—"
"You were not a bitch," Laudna says sharply and Imogen cows, but doesn't take it back. "But no, they don't know what happened. It doesn't matter, Imogen, I want you there." Just in case her words are not enough, she leans down and kisses Imogen until the tension floods from her body, until Imogen's nails are digging into the back of her neck, until they are both breathing a little heavier.
"Alright," Imogen agrees softly. "Whatever you want."
They are received warmly despite Imogen's nerves. The children are all excited to see her and none of them seem to even remember Imogen's absence to begin with. Vex'ahlia is on her best behavior, but Laudna assumes it’s more to do with Keyleth being glued to her side than anything else. She seems to be erring on the silence end of ‘if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all,’ but Laudna doesn't press her on it.
There is only a moment of brief friction as they sit at the table, but Vex'ahlia is remarkably more amenable with Keyleth's hand tangled in her hair. They eat in relative ease and when it’s time to clear the dishes, Imogen jumps up to volunteer. It's unnecessary, but she insists. No sooner than Keyleth relinquishing her hold on Vex does Vex pop up to join her. She and Vex disappear for a while and Laudna wants to check on them, but she is immediately accosted by three screaming children, so she misses her opportunity.
Imogen returns to her eventually, looking no worse for wear despite the pink in her cheeks and ears. "Hi," she breathes as she sits down onto the ground beside Laudna.
Elliot is stepping over her lap to get in her face in an instant. Imogen hardly bats an eye as she steadies him by the hips and smiles at him big and toothy.
"Hi," Laudna greets slowly. "Are you alright?"
Imogen leans over to kiss her firmly on the cheek. "Peachy-keen, baby."
Vex'ahlia rejoins them eventually and then it’s just them all playing with the children without an ounce of tension hanging over them.
Laudna is sure this is what dreams are made of.
"Can I tell you something and you promise you won't get mad?"
Imogen looks over at her immediately, her eyes narrowed behind her glasses suspiciously. "This where you finally confess to tryin' to baby trap me?"
Laudna grins despite herself. "You're incapable of being serious, sweetheart, are you aware of that?"
The smile that Imogen sends her is bright enough to rival the sun that is shining on them. "Yeah, but it makes you laugh so," she shrugs happily and her momentary lapse in attention in front of her is paid for by a jolt of the leash in her hand. "Hey, cool it, Pâté You tryin' to rip my arm out its socket?" She leans forward to tweak at his tail affectionately.
Pâté continues to trot along the sidewalk without a care in the world. He has gotten really comfortable with letting Imogen hold his leash and Laudna's heart feels fit to burst anytime she sees the two of them together. The realization that there will be more weekend walks with Pâté and Imogen than there will have been without her sits warmly in the center of her chest.
"Are you going to promise?" Laudna needles, swinging the hand she has intertwined with Imogen's.
Imogen huffs a small laugh, squeezing her palm in a reassuring pulse. "Sure, honey," she says easily. "I promise."
"When you first started working I used to tamper with your computer so you would call me and I had a reason to talk to you," Laudna blurts out in a fast rush.
Imogen slows to stop, her head turning so she can stare at Laudna intently. Her face is entirely unreadable.
Laudna tries not to fidget as she waits. It was weighing on her as of recently. It was hardly something to break up over, she hopes, anyway.
"You sneaky fuckin' dog," Imogen's smile is slow to bloom, but Laudna is treated to every single one of her teeth with the width of her grin. She reaches out to curl her fingers into Laudna's belt and drags them close enough that her head has to tilt back to look at Laudna's face. "You're so obsessed with me," she breathes out in absolute delight.
Laudna expels the last of her nerves. She nods in agreement, her hands sliding to Imogen's hips. "Yes, quite," she admits easily. "But you're the one with my lips tattooed on your body."
Imogen's tongue comes out to moisten her lips, her pupils dilating quite visibly in the broad daylight. "Yeah," she says wistfully. "Yeah."
Laudna is so in love with her it makes her brain stutter. She presses her lips to Imogen's forehead, lets them linger and hopes her love pours itself straight into Imogen's mind, heart, and soul. "Come on, you lush, we have to go or we'll be late to family dinner."
Imogen guffaws a laugh, steals a quick kiss, and then laces their fingers once more. "I'd follow you anywhere, baby," she says with a roguish grin.
Laudna doesn't doubt it in the least.
~