Work Text:
The rattle and roar of the District Line train rushing into the station briefly halted Melanie’s racing thoughts as the all-consuming click-clack of the rails and hydraulic opening of the train doors cut through the stuffy, thick air of the London Underground.
Melanie led a step in front of Georgie, loosely holding onto her hand as she managed to find two seats on the moderately empty train. Georgie swayed into Melanie’s side as the train began to move, and Melanie placed a gentle, supportive hand on Georgie’s arm to steady her.
“So… get anything done while you were waiting for me?” Melanie asked, gesturing to Georgie’s laptop bag.
“Oh, yeah, uh… a bit. This cat food brand kept emailing me while I was trying to write, which was annoying, but if I write in a little promotion then that’s The Admiral taken care of for a few weeks.”
During Melanie’s therapy sessions, Georgie often liked to take advantage of the free Wi-Fi in the waiting room, and so she would bring her laptop and notes and work on editing scripts for new What the Ghost? episodes until Melanie was finished. It wasn’t exactly the most prose-inspiring environment to work in, but sometimes a change in pace from the tiny office setup in Georgie’s flat was a welcome thing, no matter the scenery. Most of the time, it was just her in there for the entire duration of the session.
“At least it can’t be worse than that one dating website. Ugh. Still creeps me right out, and creepy stuff is literally what I do for a living.” Melanie sighed in disgust at the reminder of both the company that Georgie had to narrate a weird ad for and at her own job. Which reminded her, she needed to have a serious conversation with Georgie.
Melanie had discussed subtly with Laverne about quitting her job earlier that day in therapy. She didn’t remember how exactly it had come up, but then again she felt as if most of her complaints lately had something to do with the institute. To discuss it with someone much more involved, both with the institute itself and with Melanie as a person, made her feel a little sick to her stomach.
With a deep breath, just like Laverne showed her, Melanie decided that the tube home was hardly the time or place for such a dialogue to happen. And while her body ached, hollow and sore, to go back to the archives where she could be stronger, Melanie took Georgie up on the offer for her to stay the night. Her therapist did say that she should consider taking more work breaks in order to maintain a healthy balance in life. Melanie could hardly call many things in her life “healthy”, but at least her spirits, if nothing else, would benefit from sleeping on Georgie’s couch.
Once Melanie and Georgie had managed to get back to ground level and into the cool evening air, Melanie found her hand wandering back towards Georgie’s. In the beams of lamplight, Georgie could pick out a certain look of irritation on Melanie’s face.
Georgie wanted to ask if Melanie was alright, but as she began forming the words she noticed how gaunt and sunken Melanie’s face looked. It seemed to be from more than just the stress of late nights at work. Georgie knew it had to be more than that, but she didn’t know if Melanie would be willing to divulge that sort of detail on the walk to the flat. Melanie’s gaze shifted as they crossed the street, now just a handful of steps away from Georgie’s front door.
The flat was dark when the door swung open, and The Admiral meowed as he recognized his owner, obviously vexed at the fact that he’d been left alone with no scratches or treats for half the day. To make it up to him, Georgie scooped him up and scratched behind his ears while Melanie dropped her backpack and coat by the door.
“Right, looks like we’ve got some leftovers from when we got curry on Monday, that should still be good…” Georgie said, rummaging around in the refrigerator while The Admiral stood on her back.
“Sounds wonderful,” Melanie replied, helping to set the table while Georgie scooped rice and curry from cardboard containers and onto two plates.
The faint hum of the microwave filled the otherwise silent kitchen as Georgie sat down at the table and Melanie leaned against the counter. They both sort of admired each other for a second, an instant of sparking, early romance washed in the warm lights of the kitchen.
Then The Admiral meowed again, feeling left out having not been served his dinner yet, and then the microwave beeped, and it wasn’t until Melanie managed to get the steaming hot plates out and onto the table and Georgie managed to feed the cat that they were able to look at each other again.
Melanie took a rather ambitious bite without attempting to cool it down first, which led to her hissing and spluttering until Georgie leapt up and got her a glass of water.
“Could use some more hot sauce,” she croaked, and Georgie couldn’t tell if she was joking or not, so she let her know it was in the cupboard if she needed it. Melanie didn’t get up and grab it, though, so Georgie suspected she wasn’t actually all that serious.
There was, however, an air of seriousness about the stilted, awkward silences that punctuated the small bursts of conversation over supper. However, it seemed that as much as Melanie didn’t want to start talking about whatever it was she needed to get off her chest, Georgie equally didn’t want to be the one to pry at an inappropriate time. And, Georgie figured, if Melanie decided this still wasn’t the right time and place, that would be just fine. Georgie doubted that whatever Melanie had to say was going to change the fact that she found her absolutely lovely. Unless, the faint apprehension prickled like a spark in the back of her mind, Melanie was going to break up with her. Then Georgie might find her just a smidge less lovely, but would still respect her decision all the same.
All this thinking barely left Georgie with much of an appetite, and her tofu paneer had cooled down considerably by the time her plate was empty. The window of opportunity seemed to be fading as Georgie dropped two dishes into the sink, resolving to scrub the remnants of the sauce off of them later.
“Are we still hungry? I’ve still got some carrot cake from last week’s stress-baking sesh,” Georgie offered, although the cake didn’t seem particularly appealing to her as a tense pit finally settled in her stomach.
“I’m full for now,” Melanie replied from the armchair by the TV. The Admiral sat on one of the arms, purring and flicking his tail as Melanie patted his fluffy rump.
Quietly, Georgie let herself feel some small, merciful bit of relief that the rather ugly-looking carrot cake, borne of a midnight deadline gone wrong, would get to stay in the back of the refrigerator for another night. The joke was on her, she supposed, for thinking trying to single-handedly run a podcast would be easy.
The soft, worn sofa welcomed Georgie as she sat down, slumping against the high-backed cushions. As she laid back, The Admiral hopped up and curled up next to her, much to Melanie’s dismay.
“Sorry!” Georgie grinned. “Cat mum privilege.”
“Ah, hang on! I’m his mum too!”
“Yes, but I’ve been his mum for longer. Seniority counts, you know.”
“But I’m older!” Melanie tried fruitlessly to beckon the cat back over to her, but he’d already settled into a rather comfortable nap pressed up against Georgie’s stomach.
Georgie chuckled, combing through the fur on The Admiral’s exceptionally fuzzy belly. “By ten months. And you said you were more of a dog person.”
“Yes, well, people change! Admiral here is very persuasive, you know.”
“Oh, don’t I know it. Yes, don’t I know it, do I?” Georgie’s voice raised an octave as she tickled her cat’s tummy, getting louder and deeper purrs as a reward.
Melanie sighed, defeated. “Fine, you win. He just bites me if I try to pet his belly.”
“See? Mummy privilege.”
After the cat discussion came to a lull and the most prominent sound in the room was the contented purrs of a sleepy, well-loved cat, Georgie accepted that it was about time to go to bed. Despite whatever hours Melanie decided she would give herself for work, Georgie did actually have a to-do list that needed to get done, and the longer she stayed up in the living room waiting for something that slowly but surely seemed to be growing more and more unlikely, the more difficult it would be for her to get out of bed in the morning.
“Right, I think I’m gonna head in for the night.” Georgie said with a sense of finality, jostling a now-aggravated Admiral as she got up.
“Oh, uh… wait a second? Sorry. I just wanted to tell you something,” Melanie stammered, shrinking in on herself.
Laverne told her about this in therapy. A doorknob confession, it was called. When someone waits until the very last second and then finally bites the bullet and lets the whole truth come out. Melanie was doing one of those. It was apparently frowned upon in the clinical psychology scene, but luckily Georgie was no clinical psychologist.
“Y-yeah, go right ahead,” Georgie sat back down, just perching slightly on the arm of the couch, but hopefully giving Melanie enough attention that she felt safe and heard.
“Well, it’s just, I finally figured out what I’m going to do. About my job.”
Georgie nodded.
“Jon helped me a bit, so… credit where credit’s due, I suppose. Doesn’t make me dislike him any less.”
Melanie’s breathing became slightly faster, and Georgie could see the way she interlaced her hands so tightly that her knuckles went pale.
“Well, um, turns out the only way you can… can really leave a place like that is… it’s extreme. And I understand if you think it’s a bad idea. But… I don’t think it can possibly be worse than the alternative.”
The lingering silence and the unknowingness that consumed Georgie’s thoughts seemed even more stifling than before.
“How extreme is it?” Was all Georgie could find the courage to ask. She just wanted answers.
“Um… yeah, pretty extreme. It’s, uh… oh, God, you’re going to freak out. Basically the way you sever your connection to The Eye is… just that? You sever your connection to… your own eyes?”
Georgie wished she reacted better, honestly. She supposed her reaction definitely could have been worse, but staring at Melanie, mouth agape in an odd caricature of horror… it didn’t seem right at all. She didn’t know whether she wanted to get up and hug Melanie and tell her it would be okay, or if she just wanted to listen. Georgie desperately wanted to go to her, reassure her that there could be another way, but deep down she knew as well as Melanie did that there really wasn’t. It was that or death.
“So… you’re going to… what, gouge out your eyes?” Georgie cringed saying it out loud. It felt borderline crude coming out of her mouth, and she deeply hoped she hadn’t offended Melanie.
Instead, she was met with perfect calmness. “Yeah, I guess so. But, um, I guess that leads me to my next thing. When I’m… done… with the archives, I reckon I’ll need someplace to stay. Now, by all means, if you aren’t amicable, I totally—”
“Oh my God, ‘ amicable ’? You sound like Jon!”
That seemed to insult Melanie far more than anything else said in the conversation.
“What—I—I do not!”
Georgie’s laughter carried on for a little longer than necessary, but really the last couple seconds or so were just the last of the built-up tension finally melting out of her body. That was when she knew, more solidly than she knew most things, that no matter what, she loved Melanie. And if this was what it would take for Melanie to be happy, for Georgie to bring Melanie a cup of tea in the morning and see her genuinely smile, then it was the right choice.
“But the answer is yes. Of course you can stay with me. I’m sure a certain somebody will be thrilled to have another full-time mum around.”
To that, The Admiral chirped, brushing up against Georgie’s legs.
“Thank you, Georgie. And, uh, sorry I’ve kept you up late. I should probably get to sleep too.”
Melanie got up out of the armchair, her spine popping as she did so, and settled her pillow at one end of the sofa.
“Melanie?” Georgie asked, a hand brushing tentatively over Melanie’s. “If you wanted, you could sleep in my bed tonight.”
“No way, I’m not letting you sleep out here, it’s your bed.”
“I meant… both of us. Yeah?”
A blush spread like wildfire across Melanie’s face. Oh, Georgie could certainly get used to seeing that more often.
“Yeah,” Melanie agreed, stepping closer to Georgie to press a soft kiss to her jaw.
Georgie returned the favor by turning her head and kissing Melanie on the lips, slowly threading her fingers through her choppy, Superdrug-dye-teal blue hair. At their feet, the cat stretched up and let out a long meow.
“Oh, okay, you don’t like it when your mums kiss. Too bad, baby boy,” Georgie singsonged as she picked him up, cradling him in her arms. Melanie kissed his furry little forehead gently as Georgie carried him off to bed, plopping him right between the two pillows.
Melanie laid down first, getting comfortable with The Admiral curled up right next to her. Georgie sat on the edge of the bed, adoring the two loves in front of her, washed in the dim glow of the bedside table lamp.
“Everything comfortable? Need anything?” Georgie asked one final time before turning out the light.
“Everything’s perfect,” Melanie said, nestling her face into The Admiral’s fur. “Everything’s perfect.”
Curled up with her cat and her girlfriend, Georgie decided, the future couldn’t really be all that bad.