Chapter Text
Maya sat on the edge of her bed holding her phone in her left hand and fiddling with a wrinkled scrap of paper in her right. She turned it over and rubbed her thumb over the writing. The ink had smudged, but she could still clearly make out the 10-digit number.
She didn’t know why she kept it. She should have just thrown it out. It wasn’t like she had any intention to call. Instead, however, Maya left it on her bedside table where it lay untouched for four days.
It was only Carina’s lasagna which drew her attention back to her phone number.
She groaned as she recalled the woman exiting her office and leaving the container behind. Maya had stuffed it in her gym bag to avoid any questioning about its origin from her nosy peers and smuggled it home from work. Then, she deposited it in her fridge, where it remained as she debated what exactly to do with it.
On the third day, she stared at the glassware with the fridge doors open letting icy air escape. She couldn’t bring herself to eat it knowing it had been given to her under the premise that there was some sort of romantic connection between her and Carina, or that Maya was going to continue seeing her. She shivered at the thought. Or perhaps from the cold blasting in her face. She also felt too guilty eating it. After turning Carina down, it would be like taking advantage of her. But she couldn’t bear the thought of letting it go bad and wasting an entire home cooked meal.
Before she could change her mind, Maya had transferred the food to a plastic takeout container, warmed it in the microwave, gone out for a run, and given it to the first homeless person she saw. Upon returning home, she washed the glass in her sink and left it in the drying rack.
The only reason Maya was even contemplating calling Carina now was because she had yet to give the container back to her.
I’m just being nice. It’s just the nice thing to do.
It was a better plan than adding it to her own tupperware collection, anyway. That was out of the question. She couldn’t bear the reminder staring at her in the face every time she went to put leftovers away.
Maya chewed on her lip. Before she could stop herself, she was punching in the numbers on her cell phone, and it began to ring.
Once.
Twice.
Her chest suddenly squeezed with panic, and she quickly moved her thumb to end the call before Carina could pick up, but then the line stopped ringing and the call connected.
“Hello?”
Shit. Shit!
“Is someone there?”
Carina’s voice was just as pleasant over the phone as it was in person.
“Uh, hi, yes, sorry. This is Maya. Maya Bishop? Um…”
“Maya.”
She sounded surprised, but not excited. Definitely not excited. It wasn’t like Maya expected Carina to be thrilled to talk to her, but something in her was disappointed. Great.
“What…? Um… why…?”
“Your lasagna. Dish. You left it at the station. I was calling to return it, cause I didn’t want to steal it, or anything like that, because that would be bad, so…”
“Oh. Did you like it?”
“…Like what?” Maya asked.
“The lasagna.”
“Oh! Yes, it was really good,” she lied.
“Good, I’m glad.”
Awkward silence filled the gap in conversation.
“Should I… maybe come over to get it later? I finish my shift at 8.”
No. Definitely not. Nope. Say no!
“Sure.”
Goddamnit.
Maya was going to wear a hole in her floor with her pacing.
She should have just told Carina to meet her at the station tomorrow. Wait, no. Then, her team might see them together and get suspicious. What she really should have done is snuck it to Carina at the hospital when dropping someone off at the trauma bay in the ambulance. Then, they had an excuse for being in the same place at the same time. On the other hand, there was nothing coincidental or casual about Carina coming over to her place of residence at night after work.
Maya had stress-cleaned her entire apartment from dusting the ceiling to wiping down the hardwood floors, tossing her clothes (previously strewn everywhere) into her closet and rapidly shoving books onto shelves. Cleaning was just what you did when you had guests coming over, even if those guests never made it inside and all they were there for was a simple hand-off.
A knock sounded at the door, and Maya almost dropped her phone.
“Coming!”
She shuffled in her socks to open the front door, letting a swirl of snow blow in and melt in the warmth of her apartment heater. A thin layer of icy snowflakes stuck to the blades of grass outside and the steps leading up to her porch were frosted.
“Hi.”
“Hi,” Carina smiled.
Carina was bundled up in a thick jacket and a scarf and beanie with a yarn pom pom. She danced back and forth on her tippy toes, trying to introduce some warmth into her muscles, her hands shoved deep in her pockets. Maya thought it was kind of adorable. Only a little bit, though. Not that much. Not any significant amount.
“I’m s-sorry, it’s s-s-so cold, can I come inside?”
She did look freezing; her teeth were chattering. It was only then that Maya realized she had been staring.
“Yes! Yes, I’m so sorry. Um, come in.”
It was just the nice thing to do.
This is a bad idea.
Carina sighed in relief and relaxed as soon as the door was closed behind them.
“Grazie. I’m really sorry. I won’t stay for very long, I promise.”
Maya took her hat and coat and hung them on a hook as Carina looked around her space. Her eyes fell on the bookshelf as Maya led her into the living room.
“I didn’t know firefighters read books,” Carina smirked.
“Hey! We do, in fact, read books! I’ll have you know that training to be a firefighter requires reading a very thick manual, and as captain of a fire station, I read a lot of municipal code.”
“Ah, so you read boring books?”
“Rude. They may be boring to a fancy doctor like you, but it’s important.”
“Surgeon.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m a surgeon. Obstetrics and gynecology.”
Carina took Maya’s offer to sit on her couch to wait while Maya retrieved the container from her drying rack.
“Well, if the shoe fits,” Maya mumbled under her breath as she walked towards the kitchen.
“Pardon?” Carina turned her head to look at Maya, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
Fuck, did she just say that out loud?
Maya pivoted in the doorway.
“Um, I just mean that, you know, you’re a doctor for vaginas, and you probably look at vaginas all day, and you’re also a lesbian.”
Thankfully, Carina didn’t seem to be offended as she quickly brought her hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter.
“I’m bisexual, actually.”
“Shit. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed…”
Maya couldn’t possibly stick her foot further down her throat if she tried. She coughed awkwardly.
“Um, could I maybe get you a hot chocolate? ‘Cause you’re cold. And to apologize for making a total ass out of myself.”
“You don’t need to apologize, but I won’t say no to a hot chocolate.”
“Okay, be right back.”
Maya all but ran to the stove to click the burner on, cursing as she stubbed her toe on the corner of the kitchen island on her way to get a pot from her cabinets.
Carina was in her apartment. On her couch. The last time she was here, in her apartment, they did things. Sex. Casual sex. Which certainly didn’t mean anything and which definitely wouldn’t be happening again because it messed with her head so badly it made her unable to do her job. And because more than once definitely meant more than nothing.
Just five minutes ago, Maya was dreading every second she would have to see this woman again and regretting all decisions that led her here. She was fully prepared to have the interaction last no longer than it practically needed to. But now, inexplicably, she found herself inviting her to have a casual chat on her couch and making her a drink.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
“Maya? Is everything okay?” Carina called from the living room.
Carina’s voice shook her from her thoughts, and Maya realized she had been standing at the kitchen counter staring blankly at the sink.
“Yes, sorry! Everything is fine.”
She should at least try to act normal.
Maya grabbed the milk carton from the fridge and poured some into the saucepan, then let it warm slowly on a low heat, sprinkling spoonfuls of cocoa powder and sugar once it reached the perfect temperature. She transferred the liquid into two mugs and topped both with marshmallows.
Maya took a deep breath, plastered on a well-practiced smile, then carefully carried the steaming mugs into the living room. She set them down on coasters on the coffee table and lowered herself onto the couch, feeling some relief and a bit of surprise that she hadn’t spilled anything or burned herself in her state.
“Oh, I should have asked if you wanted marshmallows,” Maya said.
“It’s okay, I think the correct answer to that question is always yes, no?”
Carina leaned forward to take her mug from the table then settled back into the cushions, taking a slow sip.
“Mmmm,” she sighed. Her eyes fluttered shut.
“Good?”
“So good.”
Carina’s tongue darted out to lick the line of marshmallow foam printed around the edge of her lips. Maya’s eyes lingered.
“Thank you for the treat. I feel all warmed up, now.”
Maya’s face felt warm, too.
The small distance between her and Carina on the couch suddenly felt suffocating.
“Uh, you need to go,” Maya blurted out. “Sorry, I almost forgot, I have an early shift tomorrow. It’s late. I should get some sleep.”
“Oh. Of course, it’s no problem, I understand.”
“Let me get you your dish.”
“Yes, please, thank you.”
Maya retrieved the tupperware from her kitchen and ushered them to the front door, opening it as Carina gathered her coat and hat from the rack.
“Um, okay, bye.”
“Ciao, Maya.”
Carina wrapped her scarf around her neck and took the lasagna container from Maya as she turned to walk down the porch toward her car, the path lit by the eerie glow of the porch lamp.
“Wait,” Maya said. “Drive slowly. The roads are icy.”
“Sì, I will.”
Maya watched as Carina opened the driver’s side door and her car disappeared down the block. She shivered from the snowflakes blowing in across the threshold, and shut the door behind her.