Work Text:
Agent 4’s eyes creeped open as their owner was awakened by the loud heavy metal ringtone of her phone. She rolled to the side, reaching for it as it lay vibrating on her coffee table. She overreached, unfortunately, and fell off the sofa, falling face-first on the floor, knocking her forehead on her Agent uniform boots. Clutching her forehead, she cursed and pulled herself up, finally answering the phone. “Yes? Zoe here.”
“Oh hey, Zoe, you’re awake, great,” Agent 8 replied over the phone. “I just wanted to be sure that you’re still coming to join us for Squidmas.”
Agent 4 shook to clear her head. “Yeah, yeah, no worries, I’ll be there.”
“Great, wouldn’t want you to miss it. Thanks again for covering my shift, last night.”
“Don’t mention it,” Four replied. “I just hope the food is as good as you promised.”
“Will do!”, Eight said, and they both greeted each other and hung up.
Four smiled as she put the phone down. Eight had promised, out of gratitude to everyone for giving her so many chances since her return in March, that she’d make Squidmas dinner all by herself for everyone. A very ambitious effort, and she refused all willing help from Marina to help her out.
“Just hope she’ll have everything together,” Agent 4 said, before yawning and stretching. Sleeping on the couch always left her back stiff as a board. But she felt she had to, as her bedroom (and bed) was drowning in dirty laundry. Despite Agent 8’s new help in the Splatoon, she still hadn’t found a good sleeping rhythm and her apartment was still a dump.
She heard a rip coming from behind her. “Oh, not again!”, she yelled in exasperation. Her old Agent 4 coat was worn down to threads in so many places, but she had never considered replacing it. Sure enough, a fresh tear appeared down her back. “Cod, now I have to stitch this up...I still need to go buy Amy something tooooo...,” she lamented.
Eight’s return was great and all, it definitely relieved the stress off her work, but looking around at the crumpled up papers on the floor, the layer of dust on her furniture, the unwashed stacks of dishes on her table...her own state of living could use some work.
“I really need to start getting my life together,” she mumbled to herself, dragging herself to the bathroom for a quick shower.
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“You...sure you don’t want my help, Amy?”, Marina asked, worried as she observed Eight running frantically to and fro in the kitchen.
“No!”, Agent 8 reiterated loudly, “No, I’m doing just fiiiiiine,” she said, noticing her potatoes were boiling over and pulling away from composing the sushi to tend to them. “You guys have already given me more than enough help, I can do thiiiissss…,” she rushed to turn the oven off so her grilled salmon would stay warm but not overcook. She took a deep breath and turned back to Marina. “All good.”
“Alright, don’t overdo it,” Marina said and turned back to the living room. With Pearl’s cellphone locked in a safe for the duration of the evening (because she still didn’t trust Pearl to keep it turned off for longer than an hour), her loving wife was lying in the sofa watching TV.
In spite of her worries over the food, she was delighted to see Eight so eager. It meant those ten dreadful years were finally getting processed. Eight was looking for any opportunity to help Marina out these days.
The doorbell rang. Callie and Marie still went to their families in Calamari County, so the only one they were expecting was Agent 4. “I got it,” Marina assured Pearl, who was already getting out her seat.
Sure enough, it was her. With her coat open and a bag with a few presents over her shoulder, Agent 4 greeted Marina with a soft smile and entered the penthouse.
“You can hand me your coat, Pearl’s in the living room. Make yourself at home,” Marina said, taking the bag off Four’s hands too.
“Alright, sure,” Four said, thanking her and sliding out of her coat. It was clear she hadn’t gone shopping in several years. She was wearing her best button-up shirt, a white one with blue ends to her sleeves, but it was too small for her physique, frayed at the ends of her sleeves, and she hadn’t ironed it. Years of cocktail parties with Pearl had given Marina an eye for this sort of thing; it was clear Four still wasn’t treating herself the best.
Still, Four did as asked and sat down in the living room with Pearl while Marina put her stuff away.
“Heya,” Pearl said, smiling, “Merry Squidmas,”
“Same to you,” Four replied.
A loud crash came from the kitchen. “I’m fine!”, Eight called out right after. “Just dropped some plates.”
“That’s it! I’m helping her,” Marina sighed, rushing into the kitchen and cleaning up the broken plates despite Eight’s protests. “You keep track of the food,” Marina instructed her.
“Amy's been strung tight in the kitchen all day. Marina’s practically been begging to let her help,” Pearl said.
“Strung tight, huh?” Four said, finally turning her attention away from the kitchen. “Sounds like me.”
“Not anymore though, right?”, Pearl asked. “I mean, you two have been working together again for, what...about 9 months now, right?”
Four pondered. “Damn, really? That long? Huh.”
Pearl chuckled. “Yeah, time flies, don’t it?”
Four nodded. “Well, I guess so, she definitely relieved work pressure, but still. Old habits die hard. I still feel responsible for everything that goes down these days.”
Pearl observed Four’s clothes properly now too. “And that’s keeping you from taking care of yourself, huh?” She edged closer to Four. “Is it lack of time? Procrastination? Or just the stress?”
Four recoiled slightly. “Since when did you become a psychologist?”, she said, jokingly.
Pearl relaxed and sat back again. “Since Marina’s been trying to get my own schedule under control. You know I used to overwork to hell and back, I’ve been taking it easier. But it’s not easy shaking off that responsibility.”
“You’re telling me,” Four said.
“But Marina made me understand that, well...people can do their own jobs, you don’t need to breathe down their necks all the time. You see Amy back there?”, she gestures to the kitchen where Ayano was still frantically trying to line all the dishes up so the serving time worked out.
“Yeah?”, Four said, turning back to Pearl.
“Do you think the sad, terrified little octoling that came back to us back in the spring would be pulling all this off?” The two looked at the kitchen again. “Granted, she’s not...inspiring confidence, but she’s getting by.”
Four didn’t have to think long. “No, she wouldn’t be. She’d be overwhelmed.”
Pearl nodded confidently. “And now she’s handling herself fine. I think you can ease off your responsibility a good bit.”
Four smiled. “Yeah, she...she has made a lot of progress.”
“Marina and I are really proud of her,” Pearl smiled.
“Yeah, me too,” Four said.
“So yeah, take some time for yourself. I’m sure Marina wouldn’t mind dropping by to help you out, right?” Before Four could answer, she turned around in her chair and asked Marina, who was now laying the table (Eight had finally conceded that much): “You wouldn’t mind, would you?”
“Oh yeah, anytime. Just ring me up,” she replied graciously.
“See?”, Pearl continued.
Four chuckled. “I dunno if she’ll be as enthusiastic when she sees what she’s up against. My place is...kind of a pigsty.”
“Well, that’s half the work right there. You’re going to be in a much better state of mind when your place is not as much of a pigsty,” Pearl replied.
“It’s fine,” Marina said. “You should see Pearl’s desk whenever she needs to work from home for a few days. Doesn’t get much messier than that.”
“Alright, first course is ready,” Eight announced exhaustedly, when they’d gotten the laughter out of their systems. The three went to sit down and Eight brought out a large sushi platter, just as exquisite as you’d get from the finest restaurants Pearl could get reservations in.
“Man, you really put your heart and soul into this, Ayano,” Four commented.
“Thank you.” She hesitated for a while. “I guess...this is my thank you, for all you guys have done to help me this last year. I’ve...I’ve never felt better, and I owe it to you guys.”
“No, Amy,” Pearl said, standing up, glass of wine raised in her hand in a toast. “You owe this to yourself. You’re the one that made the step to come back and get yourself and your life back together. All we did was give you the chance to.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Four said, standing up herself for a toast.
“Here’s to you, Amy,” Marina followed suit.
Ayano blushed fiercely and had to wipe a tear from her eyes but she joined in the toast as well. “Merry Squidmas, you guys.”