Chapter Text
Harper had been going to this cafe for weeks before she sees her.
In Harper's defense, her attention was on the marijuana dispensary across the street. She was biding her time, doing her research. Robbing a place wasn't easy. It wasn't spur of the moment. At least, not if you didn't want to get caught. She could roll with the punches, think on her feet of course, and she was good at it. But a good plan was a good plan, and she didn't plan on going to jail any time soon.
Harper lifted her coffee (black, scalding) to her lips to take a sip. But then a flash of red had caught her eye, and for the first time since she was a teenager, Harper froze.
Grace had been going to this cafe almost every day for years. The staff greeted her by name, and she was returned the favor without checking their nametags. Today, as she had with the past couple of weeks, she watched the cafe's new regular out of the corner of her eye.
One coffee, the cheapest kind, nursed all day? Grace remembered being young, fresh out of college, and not exactly flush with cash. That wasn't true now, of course. She'd been left an unexpectedly large estate by her dearly departed fiance, who loved her art. He'd left her a large house nearby, and enough money to make sure she never had to work another day in her life. So she didn't. Grace whiled away her time painting, and at home; something she had though would never be possible as a fresh graduate.
If Grace wasn't afraid that it would scare her away, she'd buy the young woman a muffin. A cupcake. Something.
Instead, Grace turned back to her sketchbook, waiting for the right opportunity to introduce herself to the cafe's new regular.
A few more days passed, and Harper was ready for her interview. She was spending one last morning at the cozy coffeeshop before she walked across the street to the wee dispensary, just in time to be early.
But, as Harper finished her coffee, the redhead that had caught her eye (and refused to let go), suddenly began packing up her things, shoving everything into her bag before rushing out. Harper wondered at it, staring after the swiftly retreating back of the woman before turning back.
The con artist could have so easily missed the notebookbook when she turned away. But she didn't. Harper caught sight of it almost under a couch, and she picked it up, rushing to follow the redhead to return it.
She went quite a way before she turned back, and when she got back, she had missed the interview at the dispensary. Harper looked at the notebook in her hands and sighed.
Grace returned to the cafe the next day, thoroughly embarrassed. Lactose intolerance was not very dignified; she'd had to rush home to use the restroom. The cafe had its own restroom, of course, but she could only use her home bathroom for... lactose-intolerance related digestive issues.
No doubt the staff hadn seen her hasty retreat. She was already dreading today; she knew she would have to field some invasive, but ultimately well-meaning, questions later.
An unexpected highlight of her day, though, was when the young lady who sat at the window all day returned the notebook that Grace had thought she'd lost forever.
"They're really pretty," the curly haired young lady said ans she handed the notebook back.
Surprising both of them, Grace replied, "Thanks! Want to come over to my house to look at some of my other work? It's just a couple of blocks away,"
'I have no idea why I'm actually here,'
Harper was in this stranger's home, and she wasn't there to rob it.
It was kind of the perfect place to rob, though. No security system, single occupant who regularly spent time outside of it. There were so many valuable items lying around. Nothing annoyingly ostentatious, but more like... signs that someone was comfortable in the house. A pair of earrings, a watch, a laptop, strewn about the living room.
The house was practically begging Harper to come back and plunder it's treasures. She should, just to teach Red a lesson. Take a few things, nothing the obviously wealthy woman couldn't replace.
"Do you prefer muffins or cupcakes?" A friendly voice wafted in from what Harper assumed was the kitchen.
...she wasn't going to rob this place.
This house was very big. Certainly the biggest property Grace had ever owned. it was probably bigger than she would ever have been able to afford. Prettier too. Grace had never lived in a house that had a color scheme before.
And empty. It was so empty. Grace spread out her belongings as much as she could, left her belongings all around the place, even though she was mostly neat otherwise. She turned on the lights, played the radio, cranked up the volume on the TV... but there was no filling the void where another person should be.
Harper Rose, as the helpful young lady had introduced herself, was a delight to have around the house. Under the pretext of wanting help with some chores Grace had found a good way to keep her around. And it was mostly pretext, as Grace was sure they were both aware.
Grace needed some company; Harper needed somewhere to stay. There wasn't any reason not to meet those two needs at the same time, right?
It had been weeks, and Harper was still in Grace's stupid-big house. She was pretty sure she just...lived here now. From her closer vantage point in Grace's life, she could see why the older woman wanted someone to keep her company so badly. As far as Harper could see, she was the only one Grace had any prolonged contact with.
Oh, Grace was friends with the staff at the cafe where they met. And now they knew Harper as well. But Grace went there to draw people, not talk to them, and the cafe staff had jobs to do. Harper, left to amuse herself, chatted with the patrons when she wasn't watching Grace create art.
And the cafe was the only place Grace went. Even her groceries appeared on her doorstep. Like clockwork, a delivery person brought them to the house every sunday.
It was as if Grace was playing hide and seek with every other person in the world, keeping herself hidden for some reason Harper couldn't understand. It was a pity. Grace was funny, and lively, and had a wit as quick and as sharp as anything. And all the things she painted were just stored somewhere in the house. Harper thought it was a pity; they were so beautiful.
Maybe it was a bit vain, but Grace was tickled pink by the way Harper so obviously liked her paintings. Even the copies she made of works made by famous painters. Harper didn't look down on it all.
"It takes skill to switch styles so easy, you know," Harper would tell Grace. Grace thought so too, and was glad to hear that Harper agreed.
One day, Harper turned to Grace as she was painting en plein air, a twinkle in her dark eyes.
"You want to do something fun?"
(Something fun turned out to be going to a checking into a fancy hotel and switching out the room painting for one Grace had painted. It was thrilling)
TIMESKIP
Harper didn't know how they got to this point, but she looked down at her hands, and yup, this really was a Monet she was holding.
Looking at the priceless piece of art, all Harper could think of was how much she was going to love watching Grace make this masterpiece. How much Grace was going to enjoy the thought of slipping her own painting in its place, playing a little prank on someone who kept something that should be for everyone.
She was out of the wealthy businessman's McMansion before she realized it.
'I love Grace,'
Harper could definitely believe it. There was nothing about Grace that wasn't lovable. Harper didn't doubt it for a second. With determination, Harper decided that all that remained was for her to woo the woman of her affections.
How hard could that be?
A few months later, a wealthy stockbroker in his spacious home watched the news with confusion as 'a previously lost Monet was donated to the Met this morning by an anonymous donor...'
Wasn't that the one he had in his safe?
A quick trip down to his basement confirmed that, yes, his painting was still there.
He took a moment to examine it, every detail the same as he remembered it. It really was a beautiful painting.
Even if was just a replica, it seemed a shame to keep it in his safe.
Something so beautiful shouldn't be hidden away.
Grace sat in her living room, browsing through the a book as she waited for Harper. They were going to the park this morning, and to the museum again in the afternoon.
A knock on the door.
"Hey, I'm here,"
"I'm ready to go!"
A smile.
"Want another adventure?"
"What adventure is it this time?"
"It’s not fun if I tell you in advance,"
Two hands find each other, as their owners walked into a brand new day