Chapter Text
Julie Kovalenko misses her friends. Three weeks of being away from home: first a week in Silicon Valley for her niece’s birthday, then to Napa to wrap up a case for a winery, and finally back down to Santa Clara to locate a runaway daughter. She wants nothing more than to sleep in her own bed and have a face-to-face conversation with her friends that’s longer than three sentences. One particular person has been on her mind as of late. Coincidentally she’s quickly notified of a text from said person.
[Didi] Are you in town this week?
Yep, back from Santa Clara on Wednesday
Hopefully
[Didi] Have you watched the princess bride?
What?
[Didi] I'm taking that as a no
[Didi] Emily gave me tickets to an anniversary screening on Friday, wanna join me?
Sure
She and Joel can't make it?
[Didi] Jace broke his ankle
Should've guessed. See you tomorrow :)
[Didi] See you tomorrow! I'll pick you up at 7, from your office.
[Didi] or would it be more convenient to pick you up from home?
From my place, thank you :)
Maybe her mother’s quest to get them both caught up on pop culture of the last two decades has rubbed off on Didi as well.
There’re worse ways to spend a Friday night, she thinks. Another ‘ding’ breaks her focus again.
[Emily] Have fun on your date! The princess bride is uber romantic <3
Not you too
[Emily] ???
Never mind. Thanks for the tickets :)
[Emily] Sure thing
[Emily] Weirdo
She’s weird? Everyone else is being weird, thinking they’re going on dates. This is getting ridiculous. But that doesn't matter, she just needs to wrap this case up so she can go home.
***
Julie Kovalenko has never been happier to see a beaten-up pick-up truck. She’s also never been happier to be in just about the middle of nowhere in said pick-up truck. Didi picks her up at 7 on the dot, surprising Julie both by driving and what she was driving.
“What couldn’t spring for a full stereotypical Subaru, so you had to get a serial killer pick-up truck?” she jokes.
“Nah,” she chuckles, “I like to go Walden-ing sometimes, easier to do it in a truck like this.”
“Didn’t think you were into that kind of thing, plus Thoreau was a wimp whose mother did his laundry,” she shoots back.
“He was, but so am I. For me, reconnecting with nature includes an embarrassing number of modern-day appliances.”
“He also died from tuberculosis so…”
“So yeah, can’t blame me now, can you?” Didi smiles.
She shakes her head, grin growing on her face, “no, I really can’t.”
“So, where were you doing in Santa Clara?”
“Case. Clients are parents of a missing daughter. Local PD wouldn’t take the case since there wasn’t any evidence that she was abducted. Ended up finding her at a community college in Santa Clara County. She had been planning to run for weeks, asked me not to sell out her location.”
“Did you?”
“Haven’t had the chance to choose, I meet the client on Monday,” she explains. She can feel Didi’s eyes on her, waiting expectantly.
She sighs, “I don’t want to give her up. She’s worked too hard to get away from all that. But at the same time, the clients are ultra wealthy elite, this could make for break the firm. The only thing I’ve decided on is telling them she’s alive, but even that feels too risky. I just, I don’t know, I can’t imagine not knowing if your own child is dead or alive, but the way they speak about her? She’s not really her child, she’s just someone to force into their expectations, a pawn in their chess match to remain among their elite. She just had enough and needed out, took whatever money and clothes she could and made out south, a bit stupid to stay in Santa Clara but she was desperate, can’t blame her much.”
“You’ll figure it out, you’ll do right by the girl without being torpedoed by her parents,” she reassures.
“How do you know that? How can you sound so sure?” she muttered, she was exhausted from all the travel, from the pressure of the cases, from the homesickness that burrowed its way deep into her bones like nothing before.
“Because-” she heaved, words like stone threatening to tumble out of her lips, “because I’ve seen how you stand up for the people in your corner, for the people who don’t always know how to ask for it. Because despite first impressions, you are without a doubt the most compassionate person I’ve ever met. You may not be the nicest, but you are undoubtedly kind.”
For all the passion of her ersatz-monologue, Didi had said it all barely louder than a whisper. Yet, Julie is taken aback by the weight of the words, the same thoughtfulness that had made itself known time and again.
“Thank you,” she whispers. Not daring to shatter the silence, Didi hums.
The rest of the drive is filled with mindless conversation as their surroundings turn from concrete metropolis to towering trees. Eventually, Didi shows a kid in a ticketing booth their tickets and parks on an open field, with a large projection screen a good distance away. She’s very confused by it all.
“It’s a drive-in,” Didi supplies helpfully, “people tune their radios to a certain frequency to watch. However, this clunk of junk doesn’t exactly have all that great of a radio anymore, so I have blankets and a portable radio so we can watch from the truck bed. I also brought snacks and ready meals depending on how hungry you are.”
“This is that thing from those teen movies from the 60s,” she realises.
“Yeah, it is.”
“Emily and Joel were actually going to do this? Geez, they’re so old.”
That makes Didi laugh. She’s making a bit of a raucous – her whole body shaking from laughter, even the curls of her hair bouncing as she laughs – but it doesn't really bother anyone, so Julie just works to brand the image in her mind, to keep the memory forever. She hopes that when she’s old and decrepit and if she ends up at a place like Pacific View or even in – God forbid – The Neighbourhood (though she has an inkling that as someone who relies on her intellect, cruel fate will find a way to make it happen), she hopes she has this memory forever.
“How do you know so much about this stuff anyway?” she asked.
Didi quickly sobered out of her laughing fit before answering, “I’ve been to a handful of them, probably around high school?”
“Ah, I see, you would bring your high school girlfriends to places like these. I can see it. You charm them with your gentlemanly manners and big beautiful brown eyes. Have them struck with want and then make out and make sweet, sweet, love in your car while the movie plays on,” she cooed.
“No,” she says, breathless, “everyone knows you don’t fuck at the drive-in; you wait until you can drive off and find an abandoned road to do all that after.”
Julie laughs, “like I said, you’re an expert.”
As soon as the movie starts, it’s clearly a favourite of Didi. She’s whispering along to the lines in perfect unison to the actors on screen (Julie is particularly enamoured by her impression of the clergyman at the wedding).
“You really like that movie huh,” she teases.
“It’s a cult classic; can you blame me?”
“No, it really was quite good, I might just rewatch it with my mom.”
“Really?” “Yeah! I’m not joking, I really did enjoy it. Thank you for bringing me,” she assures with as much sincerity as she can without reaching across the centre console and kissing her.
“You’re welcome,” she says, “so which part was your favourite?”
That launches the two of them just short of a full-blown dissertation. Between exchanging fun facts (“Did you know that the book it’s originally based on was published as the abridged or the ‘good parts’ version?”) to pointing out their favourite bits (“Was it just me or was Wesley launching himself as he rolled down that hill?”), they reach Julie’s apartment in a blink of an eye.
“Come on up? I feel like I haven’t talked to you in forever. Plus, it’s late, I don’t want you driving back this late,” she pleads. Didi easily agrees. Conversation flows smoothly as they catch each other up on the weeks they haven’t seen each other.
As the bottle of wine is finished off so too has the conversation. Julie finds herself bursting with nervous energy and knows not how to deal with it, so she hurriedly starts to clean up the coffee table. She’s just praying to whatever fucking deity is out there that the tremble of her hands and the resultant clinking of the glass don’t give her away.
"Stay the night?" she half-pleads and Didi graciously accepts, taking the proffered towel and toothbrush.
"Thank you for inviting me tonight, I had a great time."
"Yeah? I honestly didn't think this kind of movie would be your speed," she admits.
"I did, I promise," she assures, " it was a great movie despite the illogic."
Didi tilts her head to the side, confusion evident as she furrows her brow, "what do you mean by that?"
"Well, it’s mostly with Westley. He's supposed to be this really smart guy, but he stupidly says ‘as you wish’ to the girl he’s in love with like it’s obviously a declaration of love. The two things couldn’t be more unrelated! If he was really as smart and courageous as he was supposed to be, he would've just come out and said-"
"I’m in love with you," Didi finishes for her.
"Exactly!"
"Oh my god! " Didi chuckles, exasperation tainting her laughter.
"What?" Julie has no clue what’s gotten into her, and she hates not knowing if someone is laughing with her or at her. Though with Didi it’s likely to be the former rather than the latter.
"Nothing, just- just you, " she says with the slightest shake of her head.
If pressed Julie would blame it on whole plethora of things; the late night that had turned into the early morning, the once full bottle of wine that had turned empty in that time between and the buzz it had made as it coursed through her, the days that turned into weeks apart. truthfully, it was how absolutely gorgeous Didi looked in the low light of her apartment, soft curls bouncing gently as she shook her head. Her blinding smile and the timid laughter that was leaps and bounds away yet a perfect match to the same raucous laughter she had heard time again.
In a moment of inspired by all this and Westley's courage, she closes the gap between them to kiss Didi Santos Cordero's stupidly beautiful face.
She had resolved to run into her bedroom and lock herself in there forever when she felt Didi go stiff as a board under her. She turned to take off when Didi grabbed her hand and pulled her closer once more.
Their second kiss was nothing like their first. where there once were timidity and disbelief, now stood passion and release.
“Finally,” Didi breathes before placing her hand at the back of her neck continuing her mission to map every part of Julie’s mouth with her own.
Jesus fuck she can kiss she thinks. Julie is so very ready to give into Didi and her follow-up mission to explore the rest of her with her tongue. A moan threatens to escape when Didi nips at her lower lip. Her hands tangle in dark curls as wandering hands tease her nipples through the cup. Sweet surrender entices her and the prospect of giving in becomes more attractive when kisses are gently planted down her throat and a dark mark is sucked into her pulse point. Heat begins to pool low when her brain finally catches up and she pulls away for just a moment as the realisation finally dawns on her: “What do you mean by ‘finally’?”
Didi looks equally confused as she feels, which is a relief if nothing else.
“I was starting to wonder if I had read things wrong,” she sits on her haunches, “I mean the first date sure, but after the third, I was a little worried there.”
“I’m sorry after the what now?”
“Jules, what did you think I meant when I asked you to grab a drink with me sometime?” she says, trying to mask her amusement.
“Friendly drinks! Friends have drinks!” she attested.
“Ok sure, the first one could’ve been pretty platonic if you didn’t pick up on the fact that I was flirting with you for half the night!”
“The bar was loud?”
“On our second date you walked me home then sent me a picture from your bath!”
“I didn’t want you to worry about being an imposition or I didn’t get home safe.”
“From the bath?”
“Seemed important to you that I rested well.”
“Well on our third date you brought me to an apartment nobody knew about, I cooked dinner for you then we drank wine on your neighbour’s gorgeous balcony and watched the sunset together.”
“I almost kissed you that night,” she admits
“I know, I almost kissed you so many times that evening too.”
“I should have; I tried all night to convince myself you didn’t seem at all disappointed when I didn’t.”
“I really thought I had misread things that night, so imagine my surprise when you not only texted me first but texted asking to see me again. These things get you broken up with Julie Kovalenko,” she teases.
“I’m going to kill Megan,” she seethes.
“For making the big bad boss lady seem a little less scary?”
“Oh my god, she was the first one to say these were dates. Fuck, even Virginia knew they were dates. Charles even asked me! Straight up!”
“Bro, you got out-investigated by your own employees,” she teases.
Julie claps a hand over her mouth, “First, you are spending way too much time with Emily’s boys. Second, you just had your tongue down my throat do not call me ‘bro’.”
“Okay, okay, but can I ask just one more thing,” she asked. Julie sighs but lets her anyway.
“Do you really think my eyes are beautiful?”
“What?” she asks, confused. “At the drive-in, you called my eyes beautiful,” she explained.
“No,” she professed, “I think they’re gorgeous, and even that doesn’t truly cover it.” In an instant, Didi’s hands are reaching out for her once again.
Her top is off by the time she thinks to mention, “if I had known the trip to the museum was a date, this would’ve happened a lot sooner.”
“I showed you a painting of a girl trying to resist the ecstasy of love, if you didn’t know that was a date, it’s not my fault at that point,” Didi defends as she nips, kisses and sucks a line of marks down her body.
Julie’s hips jerk as Didi’s knee presses into her centre, she shifts again, craving even more contact, “You’re so annoying, shut up and kiss me.”
“As you wish,” she jokes, undoing the button of her pants, “by the way, tonight was totally a date.”
Julie huffs in frustration, then laughs. “Yeah, I figured,” she says, then stands and offers a hand to Didi, “bed?”
Didi doesn’t answer, just slips her hands under her ass and carries her to her bedroom.
Julie Kovalenko is an idiot. But she’s an idiot in love; and there’s nothing else she’d rather be.