Work Text:
Most of Keqing’s holiday seasons are uneventful, always politely declining invites to parties in favor of pursuing a lead she had found in work. But this one is marked with something unusual. A muffin, sitting on her desk and still steaming warm. The wrapper has christmas trees on it, red ribbon in curls around the treat. A pencil drawing of a round, black and white striped bird is attached. She looks around the office, curious. Keqing prides herself on being the first to arrive, and today seems to be no different. Quiet fills the stagnant air, and the yawning rays of the dawn sun are the only thing that she can see by. She admires it, orange and red streaking together; part of why she gets here so early is because of this tranquility. A moment stolen from the busy day she usually has running around the office. She gives the office another sweep, and with no sign of life she gives up. She picks up the muffin and turns it in her hand, before deeming it safe to eat. The first bite is warm, scintillating on her tongue. Cinnamon. A crunch of oatmeal. Her eyes close as something soft and fruity spreads across her palate. A pear? How curious. Her first instinct is to be put off, but the sweet gesture is enough to ward off her reservations. The entire thing is eaten, and she silently thanks whoever left it for her, as she had neglected to eat breakfast that morning. Keqing liked oatmeal, how practical and easy it was to prepare. The combination was one she hadn’t thought of before, though now she was intrigued and made a mental note of it. Work goes on uneventfully, and Keqing is left wondering who her secret gifter is.
The next day she is greeted with not a baked pastry, but instead a pair of earrings. Handmade, they looked. A pair of birds, different from the day before. Black and white still patterns the birds, but this time only on the neck. Red brown, the color of rust that sometimes lingers around the lobby door hinges, lines each of their feathers. It’s really quite lovely , she thinks to herself, holding them up so the morning light can wink off of them. It’s an unusual thought; she doesn’t wear earrings often, finding them to be cumbersome and distracting most of the time. The piercings are more a formality she tells herself, even as she finds herself in the office bathroom, admiring the pair.
Keqing is there again at the crack of dawn, curiously looking in every cubicle on her way to her desk. She is rewarded not with the identity of her gifter, but instead with a dust cloud that billows in her face as she checks an unused closet. Grimacing, she accepts defeat and trudges back to her desk. When she sees what awaits her however, she lights up. A note pad, three chickens on the bottom right corner pecking at the ground. Her last one had long been exhausted, the constant pile of work preventing her from finding time to find a new one. It was far from her yellow legal pad, but served its purpose just as well. She scribbled a note as a reminder to carve out some time in her schedule to clean out that closet herself.
By the fourth day, she has come to expect the gifts. She makes her way excitedly to her desk, and finds an envelope. It’s sealed with crimson wax, a five petaled flower pressed into it. Glaze lilies, she muses to herself. Ningguang had brought some to the office once; a gift from one of her many admirers. It had carried a light, floral scent that–Keqing realized as she opened the envelope–was wafting from the letter right in front of her. Another pencil drawing of the flowers, in the same careful, methodical style as before was on the front. She opened it, noting that it was unusually thick, and almost dropped it in surprise. Another four birds popped out from the card, singing sweetly at her. Her heart took a second to calm down and a smile unconsciously tugged at her face. Four calling birds. She wondered why she hadn’t caught it sooner. She read the letter, and familiarity tugged at her stomach. The stilted, tall handwriting was one she knew.
Ganyu crouched in the cubby, nervous. It had been a close call a bit ago when Keqing had searched the office, but thankfully she had swept by without seeing Ganyu. She had been a little apprehensive about spying on Keqing as she opened her gifts, but she just couldn’t resist. Keqing smiled so rarely, and these last few days had been like little gems gifted to her. She cherished each time her eyes lit up, committing them to memory and filing them away.
Normally, Ganyu would never have dreamed of being so forward. It had only been when Ningguang had been walking with her down the hall to print something when in an even, casual tone, she said,
“The holiday season is coming up. Are you planning to invite anyone?”
Ganyu chewed on her lip, and looked away. “N..no, not really.”
The printer whirred to life as Ningguang leveled her with a knowing look. “You know, Keqing likes you too.”
Ganyu gasped, the papers she was holding slipping out of her grip and flying everywhere. Ningguang bent down, a barely concealed smile on her face as Ganyu sputtered.
“That’s not… I don’t… Who told you…” Heat crawled up her neck and he tried desperately to fend it off.
“You’re not a very good liar. A mark of a good person, I should think. Keqing would’ve done something about it already had she not been so focused on work.”
The heat finally subsided as she fanned herself off and looked at Ningguang for a split second. “Yes that’s… I sort of figured that was the case. I wouldn’t want to distract her…”
“Good thing I’m in charge of both of your workloads then, isn’t it?”
Ganyu’s eyes snapped up, red orange glimmering in amusement back at her.
She couldn’t thank Ningguang enough for both giving her the courage and the idea for the gifts. The first day, as she furtively placed the muffin on Keqing’s desk, her heart was in her throat. Would she like it? Ganyu knew she wasn’t the biggest fan of sweets, and had made sure to go light on the sugar and instead spice it with warm seasonings instead. The way Keqing’s eyes had sparkled and the happy little hum she let out reassured her.
She had been gathering her belongings at the end of the fourth day, another successful quest, when someone knocked on her door. She leaned her head towards the window of the door, curious. Through the blinds, a tall silhouette stood, all lean muscle and squared shoulders. Her breath caught as she saw a glimpse of a hairpiece, a tassel attached at the end. Her hands quickened, shoving papers into drawers and odds and ends into her bag. In her hurry, her hand brushed across a pen, rolling it across her desk and under. She crouched, her panic heightening and grabbing it quickly to stand back up as quickly as possible before– WHAM –she smacked the back of her head on the underside of her unforgiving wooden desk.
“Ow, ow oww, oh, Rex Lapis above…” She trailed off as her door opened.
Beidou looked as intimidating as ever. Long, silky brown hair tied back into a knot, black fingerless– it was the middle of winter, how could those provide any protection! Ganyu wondered– gloves, and the ever present crimson ribbon, covering her eye.
“You alright there, qilin?”
Ganyu groaned, rubbing her head. “Sorry, I meant to open the door but I was in the middle of sorting things and was rushing and…” She continued, babbling on to herself and barely taking notice that Beidou had walked beside her and was inspecting the quickly forming bump with a frown.
“Quite a hit you took there, huh? What, were you distracted thinking about that secretary you’re all moony eyed over?” Her tone was light, conversational, but Ganyu’s voice immediately died in her throat.
“Did Ningguang already tell you…? Or is it just that obvious…”
Beidou chuckled. “A bit of both. I’m back in town, and she asked me for a favor.” She reached into her pocket, revealing a hairpin. Gold winked at her, and she counted five small circles embedded into the metal clasp. She took it carefully, awestruck.
“It’s beautiful. I don’t know how I can repay you.”
A gloved hand waved her off. “Don’t. If someone had helped me while I was getting with you-know-who, it would’ve gone a hell of a lot smoother.” She barked a laugh, running a hand through her hair as she reminisced. “I’m surprised she struck your fancy, anyways. Thought you two didn’t get along.”
Ganyu grimaced, remembering her first meeting with Keqing. “You’re not wrong, really. We had very…conflicting viewpoints. It was one of the few things that disrupted my work, and it upset me.” Her eyes darted up to meet Beidou’s. So similar to Ningguang’s; not only in color, but in the way they both sparked with confidence. “But then…things changed. I talked with her some more. We’re more similar than I thought. Scary similar, actually. We think the same way, have the same work ethic. Just clashing personalities, I think. Or at first, I think.” Her mouth twisted, doubt snaking its way into her brain.
“Well, how’s she been liking the gifts? What’d she say?”
Ganyu blushed. “She…um. Well. It seems as if she likes them.”
Beidou raised an inquiring brow.
“I’ve kind of… been just. Leaving them on her desk.”
The other brow joined, climbing high on her forehead.
Ganyu gestured defensively, tripping over her words. “It’s just hard to face her, and she’s so busy all the time, and I don’t want to interrupt her, and I haven’t had an opportunity to–”
A hand settled on her shoulder, reassuring. “Relax, kid. I get it. I was the exact same.” Ganyu made a disbelieving noise. “Trust me. Just be sincere. You know she’s a good person. She wouldn’t be cruel to anyone.” Beidou stands up, her full height towering again. “Good luck. You’ve got two of the most powerful people in Liyue cheering for you, remember that.”
Ganyu nodded reluctantly, placing the hairpin back in its case and tucking it away. She would give it in person the next morning.
The day dawned bright, and as Ganyu realized with delight, snowflakes fell softly outside her window. She went to work, apprehensive and the gift in hand. Keqing wasn’t at her desk, though the workday had already started and people were filtering in. She frowned, doing a once over of the cubicles. No sign of her purple hair. She walked to her office, more out of instinct than any actual plan. The door swung open and Ganyu startled. The light was already on. She stepped in cautiously, before catching sight of who was in front of her.
Keqing, admiring a painting on the wall, and turning to face Ganyu as she walked in. A half smile on her face, her brow drawn back in embarrassment.
“Sorry for showing up unannounced. I had to speak to you.” She looked down at the case in Ganyu’s hands. “That’s for me, I’m assuming?” Ganyu nodded, speechless.
She stepped forward, enclosing Ganyu’s hands in her own. Warm, and thawing Ganyu’s hands from the cold outside. “I had to tell you, thank you. The gifts they’ve been wonderful, more than anything I could ever ask for. I knew the style of those drawings from somewhere, I’ve just been so overloaded lately that I couldn’t put my finger on it. The letter helped; I could recognize those looped y’s and g’s anywhere.” She paused for a beat, running her thumb over Ganyu’s fingers. “I meant to tell you sooner. That I felt…something beyond our friendship for a while. But I didn’t think anything would come of it. Work and Ningguang and just…myself. I wasn’t sure if I was ready.
“But when Ningguang approached me, and reassured me, I knew. All of your gifts have been lovely, but I can’t accept them.” Ganyu’s eyes widened.
“Not without proper repayment, of course. Would you like to discuss it? Over dinner, perhaps?” Keqing tilted her head, asking.
“Keqing, I… yes. Of course. A million times, yes.” Ganyu breathed out a laugh airily. She opens the box, reluctantly withdrawing her hands from Keqing’s. The box opens with a click, and slowly, she slides the pin out and tucks it into her purple locks, willing her hands not to shake. Keqing’s expression that follows is more than enough for her.