Chapter Text
Splat.
That was the sound that prison food made.
Debbie scuffed her way down the line behind a woman with a roll of toilet paper for a pet and sighed at the looks of todays fare. It was only her third day in the big house, but she could already tell prison was gonna keep her skinny.
Splat. Something green. Splat. Something between gray and brown. Was it beans? Was it rice? She supposed if she couldn't tell it didn't really matter. A crusty corner piece of cornbread and a tepid plastic cup of tap water completed the sad ensemble of her dinner. She sat down and tried some of the green stuff with her dull prison spoon. It tasted like spinach that had died and gone to hell. She swallowed it regretfully, her face scrunching up at the taste. God, she missed Lou.
Cooking. She missed Lou's cooking.
She did not miss Lou. At least, that's what she was telling herself.
Lou was a chef, once upon a time. She had a very refined palate. She never ate fast food and she rarely ordered entrees whenever they went to one of 'Debbie's places' to eat. Debbie teased Lou for being stuck up about it, but she really wasn't - she would always eat what she was served, even when it was Debbie's famously horrible grilled cheese sandwiches. Lou teased her right back for having zero taste. She supposed she was right. She had tried the French fries at every dive bar within a ten mile radius of any place they had lived, and she had what Lou considered a shameful passion for diner food.
When she and Lou moved into their first tiny two bedroom apartment, she had been surprised to see that Lou had a passion for something so... domestic. Even when they were soup sandwich broke, Lou would come home with fresh ingredients she had stolen from grocery stores and farmers markets. Before long, she had Debbie stealing them too. As a joke, she began bringing home the strangest foods she could find, challenging Lou with a smirk to make something edible out of the radishes, dragonfruit, and pickled garlic she had brought home. Lou never failed to make something amazing.
As she pushed around the gray mush on her tray, she missed all the times she had woken up to the smell of breakfast cooking, she missed watching Lou with her roll of sharp knives dicing onions and chewing on a toothpick and swaying to whatever record she had on. She missed the mornings after she and Lou hit the clubs, when Lou would go home and crash and she would take the long way home, stopping by the farmers market to steal food. She missed coming home to Lou sitting bleary-eyed at their kitchen counter in her flannel robe, drinking black coffee. She would open her coat like she was selling knockoff watches, and Lou would smile and come see what wild ingredients she had found. Lou stole food because it was the only way, Debbie stole food because she wanted to. She kept up the tradition long after they were no longer hurting for money.
She remembered the rainy day before an especially important job, when she went out and bought all of Lou's favorite things, staking her last 50 bucks on the fact that the job would come through, and in some ways, that their partnership would come through. It was a gesture of good faith, she supposed.
She came through the door as usual to see Lou sitting by the window, eyes closed, nursing a beer this morning instead of a coffee. Lou didn't look up or even open her eyes when she heard her come in.
"Hey." She called.
"Hey." Lou called back, finally opening her eyes and turning to look at her.
"I got you something."
Lou's eyes flicked to the bag, then back to her. She breathed deeply through her nose.
"Herbs." She said, smiling. It was a statement, not a question.
"Impressive" Debbie said, smiling back and putting the bags on the counter.
Lou unloaded the bags, oohing and ahhing over the food Debbie had brought home. She pulled out an impressive loaf of French bread and smelled it. "Oh my god." She said.
Then suddenly, she was very close. "You, are amazing." She said, taking Debbie's face in her bread free hand and fixing her with her steely eyes and that look that she had seen melt men and women alike to doing Lou's bidding. Debbies stomach dropped, all of the sudden very sure that Lou was going to kiss her. Lou pressed a kiss to her forehead and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thanks for this." She said, and she backed away, turning to the counter to start cooking.
It wasn't very often that someone left a member of the Ocean family dazed and confused, but she was rooted to the spot, her heart beating a lot faster than strictly necessary. She had run clubs with Lou for a long time; she had seen Lou pick up girls on jobs and knew that Lou could be charming when she wanted to be. But charming wasn't the right word, she thought. Lous was... compelling. She had just never had it directed at her before. She shook her head.
In the prison cafeteria, Debbie scoffed.
Little did she know.
Little did she know back then that the feeling that Lou was about to kiss her was one that she would spend a disgraceful amount of time chasing. And she knew that for all the fallout between them recently, she couldn't help but miss her partner in crime.