Chapter Text
I swear to God, Amélie thought to herself as she desperately tried to find a good foothold on the third floor ledge, I am never going drinking with Gabriel and Sombra ever again.
She didn’t mind that Sombra had taken her keys. She’d had two glasses of wine, done a tequila shot with Gabriel, and a tumbler of something Sombra had called ‘The Last Word’ made with limes, chartreuse, and some kind of bitter, almost kerosene smelling liquor that had made her head swim after she’d finished her drink.
She was in no shape to drive, and getting an Uber home with them was the responsible thing to do. But once they’d reached her building, Sombra was supposed to give her keys back so she could get in.
“Naaah,” Sombra had cheerfully declined, the bobbing of her head the only clue to how far gone she was. “You kept telling Gabi that you used to do that parkour shit. Like being Spider-Man! Well. Spider-Woman.”
Amélie crossed her arms over her chest. “I don’t see what that has to do with not giving me the keys to my own fucking apartment, Sombra!”
Sombra giggled. “I wanna see!” Walking around the building, she gestured at the windows. “Which one’s yours?”
It took a moment for her booze addled brain to connect the dots properly. “Which - Sombra! I am on the fourth floor! I don’t have rope, I am in the wrong shoes, I am still drunk , do you want me to get killed?!”
“C’moooon, you can do it! You’re all...leggy. I don’t even know why you wear the ‘fuck me’ heels anyway. You don’t need the help and you’re way too picky about the guys who try to pick you up.”
Amélie sighed. “That is because I learned the hard way about such men, and why are we having this conversation instead of you just giving me my keys?”
“Oh,” Sombra laughed as if she’d just told a hilarious joke, “that’s because I don’t have them! I snuck them into Gabe’s pocket before we got out of the Uber.”
“J'en ai ral le cul! Gabriel lives on the opposite side of town, Sombra!”
Sombra rolled her eyes. “Oh, whatever, he’ll bring them over in the morning - and if your window is unlocked you’re fine!” Amélie was about to start swearing again when her (alleged) friend raised her hand. “Look, just try once! If you don’t get in, or if anything happens, I’ll take you back to my place down the street and you can take it out on me in the morning.” She paused to give a half serious leer at the outfit Amélie had chosen to wear to the bar. “Or tonight, if you’re feeling interested.”
Amélie flicked her fingers out at her. “Even if I was going to give you a chance, you clearly ruined it with these...antics.”
Sombra shrugged. “Had to try! Now c’mon, araña, show me something.”
Muttering darkly to herself, Amélie started to kick off her shoes and socks so she could get good toeholds for the climb. “T'es rien qu'un petit connard.”
“I have no idea what you just said, but I love you too, amiga.”
She had to admit that getting off the ground hadn’t been too bad. She might have even smiled a little when her running leap had carried her to the top of the air conditioning units, and from there she’d been able to pull herself up to a second floor balcony. She was reasonably sure she was aiming for the correct window as she worked out the next part of her ascent, but the lack of balconies on the higher floors would make it tricky.
She’d decided to chin herself up to one of the wider windows that looked into the elevator lobby, then carefully began testing some of the decorative features of the building’s fascia to figure out what would support her weight.
There had been a moment of panic when her foot had slipped from the ledge as she’d tried to bring herself up to the fourth floor, but after a bit of a scramble she’d managed to get onto (slightly) more secure footing, and could see her window.
Amélie carefully placed her hand flat against the windowpane and pushed the glass upwards and in slightly, breathing a prayer of thanks that she’d always left her bedroom window unlatched.
The window slowly opened, and once she could get her fingers underneath the bottom, she adjusted her grip so she could push it completely open.
Almost there. Thank you, God, for protecting me and please give Sombra a hangover tomorrow.
Pulling herself into the open window frame, Amélie ducked her head so her ponytail would not catch on anything as she hauled herself inside, pushing herself inside with one last heave that sent her crashing painfully to the floor, but at least she was in her own bedroom.
Groaning, Amélie sat up to look around, and suddenly realized she was in a bedroom, but it wasn’t hers. There was some fairly nice art she didn’t recognize on one wall, a photograph of some kind of aircraft in flight, a wide dresser that had at least one pair of panties sticking out of a half opened drawer...and a brunette and a redhead snuggled together asleep in the bed.
Oh, fuck me.
She thought she recognized the redhead - she’d seen her on the elevator. Didn’t she live three doors down?
She must have counted the window ledges wrong. Swearing silently at herself as she stood up, Amélie was torn between trying to go back out the window and risk the wrong place again, or to just quietly let herself out through their front door and walk to her apartment. Even without her keys, she could at least call the super and claim to have accidentally locked herself out.
(Which, she realized with painful clarity, was exactly what she should have done instead of going along with Sombra’s stupid games.)
She’d just decided on risking that plan when she realized the brunette was sitting up and staring at her with sleep fuzzed eyes.
“Um...excuse me, but are you a burglar?”
Amélie felt her face go hot. “What?! No!”
“Shhh,” the brunette put a finger to her lips, “you’ll wake her up, keep your voice down.”
“Sorry,” Amélie whispered back as tears began to fill her eyes, “I...this is ridiculous . A friend stole my keys because I was drunk, and then she left them with another friend and dared me to get into my apartment without them and I thought this was my bedroom and this is all Sombra’s fault.”
“Hey, now.” The brunette slipped out of the bed and crossed the floor to give her a hug, which made this even worse. “No need to cry, luv, it’s all right.” She giggled softly. “Believe me, I’ve got some proper bellends for friends, too.”
“I’m...I…” Amélie couldn’t figure out what to say, and settled for relaxing into the hug. “Merci beaucoup.”
“Oo. That’s French, innit?”
Amélie couldn’t help herself from laughing as she tried to wipe the last tears away. “Oui.”
“Aw, you’ve got a pretty laugh.” The brunette giggled. “And the look on your face! ” Stepping back, she stuck out a hand. “I’m Lena.”
Amélie wasn’t quite sure what was going on now, but she had the good manners to take Lena’s hand and shake it. “Amélie.”
“Right, then, Amélie.” Lena looked around the room. “You’re very pretty and I’m half convinced I’m dreamin’, what with bloody tall French amazons showin’ up in our bedroom, but I’ll make you a deal. You didn’t take anything, right?”
Amélie was still working over the implications of ‘you’re very pretty’ when she realized Lena had asked her a question. “What? No, of course not! I just want to get home and go to bed!”
Lena nodded. “Figured. An’ you didn’t break anything either?”
“Nothing aside from my pride.”
Lena giggled again. “Oh, trust me, I’ve done worse.” Her eyes swept the room. “OK, so here’s the deal then. I’m gonna let you out the front - and I won’t call the Filth - and you give me a call tomorrow and we can have lunch or something and a good laugh about the whole thing. Sound good?”
Amélie nodded. “That sounds...nice?”
“Sure it does,” Lena agreed as she picked up a pair of jeans off the floor and pulled a sharpie marker from the pocket, “Here, hold out your arm?”
Amélie frowned, but did as she was asked. “I could just give you my phone.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Lena’s hands were warm and strong as she took her wrist to hold Amélie’s arm steady, quickly writing out her name and number, along with a somewhat ragged looking cartoon heart. “Right, there we are then!” Letting go and capping the pen, she walked over to the bedroom door and it suddenly occurred to Amélie that Lena had been standing there in a pair of boy shorts and nothing else this entire time. “C’mon, I’ll show you to the door.”
Blushing furiously and trying to keep her eyes focused on Lena’s impressive case of bedhead, Amélie let herself be lead back to her own apartment.