Chapter Text
The townhouse was alight with the glow of, what Enid could only presume, were one thousand chandeliers. It was a ridiculous building. Four stories with expansive glass windows carved between ivy-laden red brick – slits into the soul of the looming monstrosity. It also happened to be the most beautiful building Enid had ever intended on entering, but that was semantically problematic, so she decided to ignore the awe stirring around her innards and clomp her way up the stone steps.
This was not going to be a fun assignment.
She knew that already. Why else would the client have hired her? She was ex-military, multiple tours, honourable discharge, a secret service rap sheet that would make most men blush (or vomit) and notoriously had never failed to complete a job.
Private hire life was easier than within the system, she found. She could come and go as she liked, disappear for months on end whenever she had the urge, and make money on the fly through the network of back-alley mobsters that always needed their messes cleaned up.
Of course, she wasn’t totally without morals. She had rules. She didn’t deal with kids. Ever. If the client couldn’t prove the target was over the age of eighteen, she wouldn’t take the job. She also avoided killing where possible. She wasn’t a hire to kill hitman; she preferred the term ‘retrieval specialist’. Sometimes she retrieved people, sometimes it was paperwork or jewellery or weapons. One time she’d retrieved a red 1965 Ford Mustang - the five-hour drive back was one of the best days of her life.
She had killed people. Mainly in self-defence but there had been times she’d witnessed evil in people so categorically irredeemable, pulling the trigger had been easy. The blood of the eternally damned had a distinct aroma; putrid and sour. She had never regretted spilling a single drop.
But this particular job? Must be a nasty one. She’d been given the basic details: Wednesday Addams, twenty-eight years old, investigative journalist working on a story that had led her to sticking her nose into the wrong people’s business. Someone somewhere wanted to speak with Miss Addams personally and Enid had been hired to take her there.
Picked up in one location and released in another. Nothing ethically ambiguous about that, Enid justified. Besides, if this journo wasn’t prepared to face the repercussions of her own actions, it certainly wasn’t Enid’s job to protect her from her own foolishness. A simple lift and drop.
In theory. Yet, Enid knew if she was the one hired for such a seemingly menial task, there must be something about Wednesday Addams that was going to cause some difficulties along the way.
With that in mind, she vigilantly checked the front door for hidden weaponry and boobytraps before she knocked, noting the cameras staring down at her from either side of the porch.
The brass raven knocker made a faint tap from the outside but presumably reverberated internally around the vast property, indicating to its mysterious occupant that she had company.
The light on the cameras blinked and Enid brushed her blonde bob back with one hand, waving nonchalantly at the darkened lenses.
A few minutes passed and no one came to the door. In their defence, it was the middle of the night, and Enid was a total stranger. Definitely a smart man’s move not to have willingly rushed to swing open the fortress barricades.
If the journalist had wanted to keep her presence in her home a secret, Enid would have recommended not leaving every single light on in the entire building, but hey, maybe the woman was scared of the dark or something.
Knocking again, Enid reached into her pocket and retrieved her (100% fraudulent) FBI identification badge and card. This wasn’t one of her finest plays, but the folder on Wednesday Addams, despite its brevity, had suggested that she would most likely require a healthy dose of heavy-handed half threats in order to force compliance. Was imitating law enforcement a federal offence? Absolutely. But so was kidnapping and murder, so really, the line was already blurred. And technically Enid did use to work intelligence, so it was only a fabrication of tenure, not skill.
Stretching one arm up, she presented her ID to the camera. “Miss Addams, I apologise for the unsociable hour, but I do need to speak with you quite urgently–the agency requires information on a case, and we believe you may be able to assist.”
The camera above her whirred, creaking slightly to the right as it tilted to get a better look at her badge. Clearly the woman inside was aware of her presence now and seemingly strategically examining the scenario.
Luckily, this was not Enid’s first rodeo, and she had in fact already completed a thorough examination of all the building’s entry and exit points. There was no way Wednesday Addams could extricate herself from this current predicament.
Peering up at the camera again, Enid scrunched her nose in amusement, wiggling her eyebrows at the lens, “I come in peace.” She joked, lifting her coat up to show the tenant her lack of holster. Concealing her gun in the most inconspicuous of spots had become a kind of game in Enid’s preparatory routine – today it was securely fastened to her right calf.
Static cracked through the air.
“Why am I of interest to the F-B-I?”
The voice was low, gravelly and, to Enid’s surprise, totally devoid of emotion. Clearly Wednesday did not spook easily.
Not to be deterred, Enid offered the camera a soft smile and, in her most saccharine customer service voice, spoke directly into the eye of the beast. “Good evening, Miss Addams. I hope I didn’t wake you? As I mentioned, we believe you may have some information regarding an active case of ours… I’m not at liberty to provide further details in such an unsecure location,” She gestured to her position on the porch, “If I could come inside for a moment, I would be happy to elaborate on how you can help?”
Enid was once again greeted with the stony cut of silence. Shifting on her feet, she pondered what her next move would be. She honestly had all night, all week, the rest of her life really, to wait Wednesday out, but it would be inconvenient to have to extract her during daylight hours when witnesses became plentiful. Technically, she had also agreed to present the woman to her day of judgement by midnight on Friday, which gave her all of two days to capture, transport and deliver the increasingly irksome package.
Just as she was starting to formulate a new and admittedly more forceful plan, the speaker crackled back into life.
“I will entertain your line of enquiry for no more than two minutes. Kindly take your leave from the porch whilst I prepare to facilitate your entry to my home.”
Only moderately perplexed, Enid nodded and stepped back from the door, making her way down the stone stairs back to the garden path. Keen eyes watched as a series of lights flashed before fading, the house’s defence system momentarily opening its jaws to the outside world. A slip in the veil of protection that separated her from her target.
Was it too easy? A wariness crawled the inside of Enid’s ribs, tickling her nervous system as she scanned the door for signs of attack.
A click, followed by series of metal clangs and a deep resounding thud followed before a crack of light haloed the dark mouth of the house.
Then Wednesday Addams stepped into view.
Now, Enid was well aware of what the woman looked like. She had an entire dossier of pictures taken from various events and institutional year books, but that didn’t stop the air rushing from her lungs as the journalist glowered out at her.
She was ghostly pale. Translucent even. Had Enid not known in advance there was a woman residing here, she might have assumed Wednesday was a heavenly apparition sent to haunt her in retribution for her crimes. It wouldn’t have been much of a punishment.
Her dark hair was neatly affixed in loose waves framing her cutglass jaw and she wore a perfectly tailored black suit draped impeccably over a crisp white shirt. She was immaculately woven together from sharp corners and shadowed hollows.
Honestly, Wednesday looked like she should be the one on a secret mission to abduct a stranger in the night more than Enid, who suddenly became very aware of her messy blonde mane and standard issue army surplus pants. It was intimidating in a way that made Enid feel small. A feeling she did not appreciate.
Plastering her token smile onto rosy cheeks, she made her way back up the steps with faux caution.
“Thank you, Miss Addams. I appreciate you letting me in like this. I am Special Agent Enid Murphy, but please just call me Enid.”
A fake name for anonymity, of course.
Wednesday nodded once, opening the door wider before stepping back to let Enid pass through the gap.
“I see you are already acquainted with my name, so I won’t insult either of our intelligences and waste time with further pleasantries. Take a seat and ask your questions.”
Harsh, cold and calculated. Enid was starting to understand why she was the one stood in the cavernous foyer and not one of her lesser-skilled peers.
She had a good couple of inches on the affronting woman, a fact she added to her mental list as her brain started calculating the best course of action for restraining Wednesday if necessary.
Nodding her head in acquiescence, Enid followed closely behind the journalist as she led her to the room directly to their left, a small sitting space with large armchairs and towering bookshelves. It was almost cosy and Enid felt a tiny twinge of guilt for what she was about to do. Ruining someone’s evening was hardly her favourite activity after all.
The feeling passed faster than it appeared. This was purely business.
“Wednesday. May I call you that? I have some questions regarding the Galpin case,” she paused to gage the woman’s reaction but nary a flicker crossed her eye, “You see, the agency has come to understand you have familiarised yourself with the specifics of this case quite… Shall we say, intimately.”
Dark eyes narrowed at her and the pinkie finger of Wednesday’s left hand twitched minutely. It would have gone unnoticed by anyone else she was sure, but that was why Enid was the best. She saw everything.
“I am waiting for the question.” Wednesday deadpanned, her hands coming to clasp together in her lap.
Enid smiled again, “Of course, my apologies.” Her own hand was resting on her knee now and practice told her it would take her three point five seconds to remove her gun from the ankle holster and have it pointed at the woman in front of her.
“My question is fairly simple and I do appreciate your cooperation in advance,” She didn’t drop Wednesday’s eye for a millisecond as the gun was unholstered and levelled in front of her, “Will you come with me?”
To her credit, Wednesday didn’t even blink, her eyelids sort of drifted halfway shut at a pace Enid could only attribute to a snail before snapping back open. A quirk at the side of dark-painted lips Enid could have sworn resembled a smirk came and went before the blonde could register it.
“A kidnapping? How dreadful. It has been a while since I was levied with such a threat and with such impressive execution. Truly, Enid, bravo.”
Right. Well, that was unexpected. Enid stood, stepping forwards to press the muzzle of her gun to Wednesday’s forehead, “Ok, you’re really strange, has anyone ever told you that? Now please turn around so I can cuff you.”
Cocking her head to one side, the ghostly woman pressed her forehead further into the barrel of the gun and infinite eyes peered up at Enid from under hooded lids, “Now, where would be the fun in that?”
In a movement so graceful Enid would have been impressed in any other scenario, Wednesday’s hand shot up and hit her arm, knocking the gun away and carrying her back with the force.
Cursing, she stumbled a step or two before regaining her balance and immediately taking chase after the woman. Wednesday hadn’t managed to get far, barely into the foyer when Enid threw herself at with full force. They came down hard on the dark wood, tussling for the upper hand.
Pinning Wednesday with one arm, Enid grappled for the handcuffs on her belt, desperately trying to get them out and on the skeletal figure.
“Stop moving, for fucks sake,” she huffed, “Fucking gothic ninja, Jesus Christ.”
A leg spun up and over her torso, flipping her onto her back as the air forcefully left her body for the second time that evening.
Suddenly, the glint of a knife was flashing past her vision and the cold metal of a blade pressed to her throat, “This has truly been a pleasure, Enid. But unfortunately, you have overstayed your welcome.”
Blue eyes manically wide, Enid’s entire body heaved in anticipation under the barely existent weight of her target. Wednesday leant down to threaten her and every detail of her face was suddenly available for Enid’s eyes to greedily consume.
“Freckles.” She breathed out.
“Excuse me?”
And that was her opening. Her awe at the dusting of dark constellations marking Wednesday’s delicate skin had splintered the woman’s wicked concentration momentarily and Enid was able to use the hesitation to leverage her weight up and over the smaller body, reversing their position in moments.
A faultless move but for the shallow graze of the knife on her throat spilling a bead of blood onto pale fingers, before the blade was knocked away entirely and handcuffs slapped firmly around bony wrists.
“You have freckles,” she repeated, “They’re cute.”
The scowl on Wednesday’s face twisted into something grotesque at that, disgust marring the impressive canvas Enid had been mesmerised by. “I doubt you will be maintaining such sentiments when my knife is finishing the job it started.”
Enid scoffed, rolling back onto her knees to step up off Wednesday and brush herself down. “Interesting that you are the one threatening me and yet I am standing here free, and you are on the floor, shackled.” She spun around with her arms wide just to prove a point before retrieving a small metal container from her inside pocket, opening it to reveal a needle.
“This is a sedative. The needle is clean and the drugs are FDA approved. You will feel a slight pinch and then you will sleep for approximately three to five hours, but honestly, you’re so tiny I think we can expect the maximum effect.”
If looks could kill, Enid would have been dead the second the front door opened, and if they could maim, she was sure her innards would be staked to the ceiling right now.
“Goodnight, Wednesday. Don’t worry, I’ll lock up behind us.”
Wednesday was as intimidatingly beautiful in slumber as she had been awake, tucked under blankets and secured down by seatbelts in the backseat of Enid’s rental. It was annoying. Enid was annoyed.
Not only was she sore from their fight but the scratch on her neck was stinging and the whole encounter had delayed her plans by at least an hour.
She had an intermediatory location waiting for them to hideaway in once morning came. She would wash up there, feed them and get some rest before setting off again at dusk. Only move under the cover of darkness. Always. That was how it went. Hide in the day, move at night.
But now, because of Wednesday’s self-preserving antics, Enid would be forced to stay awake an hour longer than necessary. An hour of precious sleep time, lost to the whims of some dark-angel evil genius.
Since when did journalists know black belt level hand-to-hand combat? Who was teaching tiny ghost women how to yield knives and apply appropriate pressure? Ridiculous. This had not been in the files.
The sparse paperwork noted that Wednesday was a bookworm, spent hours at the library, rarely entertained company and was almost always swamped by a long black leather coat. Not once did it say, oh also, by the way, she is laced with concealed knives and can succinctly disarm a trained ex-military agent without breaking a sweat.
This was one for the history books. Enid was going to take a vacation after this job. She’d been in the game too long without a break. She deserved it.
The highway was devoid of life at this time of night, the occasional headlight beam filtering past, casting a momentary glow across the stricken landscape before vanishing, engulfed by the darkness behind them.
Enid had been driving for several hours when the mound of blankets in the back started to stir. It wasn’t the most convenient timing. She really needed to avail herself of the facilities after having downed four red bulls to stay awake; however, silver linings, she could now be a considerate kidnapper and see if Wednesday wanted anything at the gas station.
Luckily, there was no one around to nosy into her affairs as she pulled into the roadside stop – what with it being the middle of the night and bumfuck nowhere an’ all.
“Hey there, sleeping beauty,” Enid chirped, “you’re just in time for a snack break.” Twisting round to peer into the back, she watched as the journalist blinked herself back into consciousness.
Confusion swum through obsidian, quickly consumed by fiery indignation. Wednesday sat abruptly, only having to battle blankets and seatbelts for three undignified seconds as she rose, all the while under Enid’s amused gaze.
It was actually unfair that someone could look so, well, adorable, after having been drugged and forcibly removed from their home. Raven hair was mussed around sleep-softened features and drool smeared lips pouted sulkily. She looked like a five-year-old Enid had just woken from a nap.
“Where are we?” Wednesday demanded immediately, eyes darting around to try and garner some kind of geographical marker.
“Um, that’s a great question! A gas station. By the highway. Somewhere in the U-S-of-A.” Grinning, Enid unbuckled herself and stuck her tongue out at her passenger. “Now, did you want anything or not? I’m afraid I can’t actually let you get out of the car, ‘cause, you know, you’re kind of a flight risk… But I’m trusting you not to do something totally stupid and unwise in my absence, ok?”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed to slits and the vein in her temple pulsated in barely contained frustration.
“Ok. That means no yelling, banging, attempts at forceful exits, etcetera etcetera. Capiche?” Then, just for the hell of it, she stretched a hand forward and tapped the tip of a freckled nose. “So, no snacks?”
Devoid of a reply, she shrugged and murmured, “Suit yourself.”
With the doors and windows securely locked and the glass tinted to prevent any further interference to her journey, Enid all but sprinted inside. She did not trust Wednesday to follow orders and was sure an escape attempt was currently unfolding. But hey? When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go.
It took her three minutes and thirty-four seconds to use the bathroom, grab a selection of food and drinks, pay the dim-witted attendee and powerwalk back to the shadowy corner of the lot where she’d parked.
In that time, Wednesday had used her teeth to dismantle the handle of one door and was midway through attempting to rewire the locking system by touch only, her hands still cuffed behind her back.
“Wednesday! Not cool! This is a rental, that’s going to come out of my deposit.”
Pale hands froze in their ministrations. The journalist at least had the decency to look a little sheepish although Enid didn’t sense much sincerity behind it. “You were aware I was going to attempt to escape.”
Enid nodded, “Duh.”
“I suspected as such. It would have been disappointing had I not caused at least minor vehicular damage, would it not have?”
A long sigh left peachy lips and Enid acquiesced with a smile, “I suppose you’re right. I’m still annoyed though. I have half a mind to revoke your snack privileges.” Shifting through the plastic bag on her lap, Enid retrieved a few items and placed them on the pile of blankets next to Wednesday. “Good thing I’m not that cruel.”
Wednesday scoffed and raised an eyebrow in disbelief, “You had a loaded firearm held to my head not hours ago.”
“Potayto, potahto, Wednesday,” Enid brushed her off, “I’m going to move your cuffs to the front so you can eat, do you promise to be a good girl and not do anything reckless?”
If Enid wasn’t mistaken, Wednesday’s deathly hue was tinctured with a barely decipherable flush in response to her words and a puff of indignant air left her nostrils.
“Alright, alright. Here we go.”
The kidnapper was grinning practically maniacally, using every inch of her willpower to not tease her would-be escapee further. Clearly someone in this car had a thing for praise, and it sure as hell wasn’t Enid.
Every muscle in Wednesday’s body tensed as Enid carefully unlocked the cuffs, absentmindedly brushing her thumbs over the red welts the metal had stained on pale skin during the escape attempt, snapping them back into place before another similar event could occur.
“I wasn’t sure what you liked but from your general demeanour I assumed you were more of a savoury girl than a sweet,” she gestured at the pile of junk food, “Water, chips, coffee, croissant… Take your pick.”
Admittedly, it was a tad risky to let the woman have even restricted use of her hands, but Enid had also cuffed her legs prior to placing her back there, so any attempt to flee would be painfully slow and humiliating enough that she felt secure in the knowledge Wednesday wouldn’t subject either of them to the ordeal.
She couldn’t exactly let the detainee starve before the client had received the package, could she?
One eye on the rearview mirror, Enid steered them back onto the deserted highway and began the rest of the journey to the safe house. She munched on her own snacks happily, supressing a smirk when Wednesday helped herself to the canned coffee and pastry.
“Thank you.” The soft muttering of gratitude drifted over her shoulder to which she shook her head in bewilderment.
Wednesday Addams was turning out to be her most intriguing delivery yet.
Driving for eight hours straight without a break wasn’t ideal but a common occurrence in Enid’s line of work. She’d probably racked up more hours than most truckers at this point. If she really considered it, she kind of was a trucker, delivering her little packages from A to B.
Maybe that would be a more satisfactory lifestyle? She could get a truck and decorate the cab to her liking, have soft, clean bed sheets and a portable stove for cooking. She would be able to park up wherever she wanted, see all the National Parks and make friends with other nomads. Maybe she’d even find someone she could dote upon a little.
Her life was not currently set up to allow for attachment. Sure, she had one-night stands here and there – meaningless romps to fill her physical touch cup up – but she had recently found herself yearning for more. She was born with affection bubbling from every orifice and had no one to direct it towards.
A resigned sigh left her lips and she shook her head free of impossible daydreams. She was a lone wolf now.
“I can practically hear the mechanisms of your cerebrum in motion,” A droll voice filtered in from the back, “Care to share with the class?”
“With you? Not particularly.”
Silence, then a huff.
“You have yet to request further information regarding the knowledge I obtained that landed me in these,” Wednesday gestured around, “Inconvenient circumstances.”
Enid snorted, “Yeah and that’s the way it’s going to stay. I don’t want to know anything about it. If you want to play with fire, that’s on you, but I’m sure as hell not involving myself in your mess.”
She paused for a moment before meeting Wednesday’s eye in the rearview, “I’m the clean-up crew, Wednesday. If you wanted a partner-in-crime, you should have thought about that before you waded into the proverbial sewer without a hazmat suit. I’m simply here to hose you down.”
Gaunt features tightened as the journalist allowed Enid’s words to wash over her. The criminal was smarter than she looked, Wednesday was impressed.
“I admit that is a wise choice. I’ll have you know I would never stoop so low as to enlist the assistance of a partner,” her lips curled around the word with distaste, “Partnership breeds fragility and liability. I work alone.”
Blue eyes sought black in the mirror again. “Ok, Miss Doom and Gloom. I share similar sentiments when it comes to work, but I do think it would be nice to have company sometimes.”
“Boredom is for those who lack complex and fruitful interior lives.”
Enid shook her blonde mop, “It’s not about boredom. It’s about wanting to share things with someone, have a laugh with someone, you know? To grab a coffee with a friend and start the conversation with, ‘remember that time’… Like, a shared history. Someone who will remember exact details of your life when you’re gone.”
Deathly silence greeted her and Enid balked, realising she’d shared too much. “Forget it. You wouldn’t understand.”
Their eyes met in the reflection once again before Enid swiftly averted her gaze back to the road.
“No, perhaps I would not.”
A few hours later, just as the sun started to crest the horizon and the first early birds took to the streets, Enid pulled them off the highway and wove the car down a bumpy track cut into thick woodland.
She winced at the desolate scenery as they pulled up in front of a small cabin, “This looks murder-y, I’m aware, but I promise we’re just here to rest until nightfall. I have no intention of ending your life today. Or tomorrow. Mainly, just, like, never… To the whole killing you thing.”
Wednesday’s eyes rolled around her sockets at the reassuring thumbs-up Enid sent her way and waited in total stillness as the blonde practically bounded from the driver’s seat to fling the backdoor open.
Scrunching her nose in half-apology, Enid reached inside to unbuckle and tug Wednesday towards the edge of the seat. A startled sound left the journalist’s throat before she could stop it. “Enid!”
“I know, I know, I’m sorry. Needs must, Wednesday, needs must.” With that, she stooped forward and leveraged the smaller woman over her shoulder, securing her with one arm whilst she retrieved the cabin key from her pocket.
Wednesday struggled against the restraining arm, “Enid. I demand you put me down this instant.”
“I hate to be the one to break it you, but you’re not really in a position to be making demands right now,” Enid huffed, treading heavily down the gravel path and swinging open the door of the lodge wide enough to fit them both through.
Once inside, she deposited the captee into the closest armchair and stood to evaluate their surroundings.
The cabin was furnished for utility not comfort; just one small double bed, a couple of armchairs and a single chest of drawers adorning the wooden interior. An ominous taxidermy owl perching proudly over the doorway the only decoration.
A thick layer of dust coated the place indicating it hadn’t been used in a while. Enid was relieved more than disgusted. Dust meant solitude and solitude meant she wouldn’t have to navigate any unwanted visitors in the next twelve hours.
She didn’t own the hideaway. It was available on a by-request-only basis with a local service known only by certain echelons of society; aka, it was part of the large web of underground criminal enterprises she had embedded herself within.
Assessment over, she turned back to Wednesday, meeting her stony glare head on. It was clear that as she had taken inventory of the property, her prisoner had been taking inventory of her and a practically devastating glint developed in near black eyes.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” Wednesday deadpanned, one eyebrow cocking in challenge.
Enid resisted the urge to stomp her foot. “Like you’re the one in charge! Must I remind you that you are enroute to almost certain distress… I don’t know what you found out about this case, Wednesday, but these people weren’t fucking around when they asked me to retrieve you for them.”
Scoffing, Wednesday shuffled to sit up straighter, “I will not wilt under imbecilic threats, Enid. Fear is for the weak and I am anything but.”
Reckless. Arrogant, beautiful and reckless.
“Fear is for the living. The dead don’t scare easily.” Enid rebutted, turning away to lock the door and draw the curtains, tired of being prodded by vicious gaze.
The cabin settled under a thoughtful silence. It was dark all but for a few rays of sunlight piercing through the hole ridden curtain fabric. Probably caused by moths, possibly by bullets.
“I really need to get some sleep if we’re going to make the rest of the drive tonight. I would suggest you do the same– I don’t know what’s waiting for you tomorrow but I’m guessing it won’t entail a great deal of rest.”
Leaving Wednesday in contemplative taciturnity, Enid retrieved her duffle from the trunk of the car and fussed around securing a couple of perimeter alarms across the door and window. Nothing fancy, just enough to cause a minor commotion should anyone try and enter whilst they slept.
Once she had ensured they were secured for the day, she utilised the small bathroom to freshen up and sterilise the cut across her throat, dressing for the next day in advance. Preparation was the key to success after all.
An inquisitive gaze was fixed firmly on her throughout her ministrations, tracking her around the small space. “Enid.”
The blonde hummed in response, already prepping a larger dose of sedative to incapacitate Wednesday for the next eight hours. It wasn’t ideal. She’d prefer the woman remained awake should they need to flee the scene in a hurry, but she had already proved herself to be inclined to escapism and Enid couldn’t take the risk.
“Enid.”
Looking up from her work, Enid finally let their eyes meet again, “Can I help you?”
“I… I need to use the facilities.” The woman seemed almost embarrassed by the admittance of succumbing to universally necessary bodily functions.
Enid allowed herself to smile softly at the awkwardness tinging the declaration. “Of course. Here, let me.”
Much to Wednesday’s chagrin, Enid scooped her up bridal-style this time and walked the few metres to the bathroom, plopping her in front of the toilet.
“I’m going to unbutton your pants for you, ok? Then the rest is on you.”
She waited for a permissive nod, not wanting to cross a boundary decidedly well out of her contractual remit, before reaching out and manoeuvring the button open with a decisive flick.
Her fingers accidentally brushed against the cool, smooth flesh of Wednesday’s stomach as she retracted them and she heard her own breath stutter.
On her part, Wednesday didn’t flinch, jaw clenched and eyes alight once again. “That will be sufficient. Thank you.”
Throwing up her signature thumbs-up, Enid swivelled and stepped the singular pace to the bathroom doorway. “I’m afraid this is all the privacy I can offer. I promise I won’t listen.”
A resigned sigh filled the space behind her followed by the sound of fabric dropping to the floor. “Ritualistic humiliation is beneath you.”
“Shut up and pee so I can sleep.”
Once hands were sufficiently washed and pants resecured, Enid redeposited Wednesday onto the bed.
“How presumptuous,” A wicked expression crossed pale features, “At least buy me dinner first.”
Enid chose to ignore the snarky remark and returned from her bag with the sedative. “You wake before me, I’ll know. You move from this bed, I’ll know. You so much as think about escaping, I’ll know… And I did technically buy you dinner already, so I guess you’re all mine now, hey?”
Wednesday’s eyes narrowed, fists flexing in frustration. Not being in control was clearly torturous to the surly journalist. “I think further sedation is unnecessary. I am perfectly capable of natural slumber-”
The needle was in her neck before she could finish her sentence. “Yeah, no, we’re not doing that. Sweet dreams, Wednesday.”
Enid gently lay the cuffed woman’s head down on one of the pillows, pausing to brush a stray strand of hair away from her eyes. Wednesday truly was remarkably beautiful. The freckles she had noticed earlier were painted across pallid cheeks, nose and forehead, dark in contrast to her practically luminescent skin tone. She had surprisingly pouty lips for such a stoic woman, relaxed now in drug-induced rest and curved minutely at the corners, as though being sedated by foreign substances had brought her some modicum of delight.
Intrusive thoughts flooded Enid’s brain before she could stop them. Musings on what it would be like to feel those lips pressed against her own; to spend an afternoon bathed in sunlight tracing the shape of the constellations that made up the galaxy of her face.
“Stop being weird, Enid.” She whispered to herself, lying her weary body down on its side softly beside Wednesday and allowing her eyes a few more moments to wander across the shadowed figure beside her.
What mess had this foolish woman gotten herself in to? And why did Enid care?