Chapter Text
“Love is born into every human being;
it calls back the halves of our original
nature together.” - Plato’s Symposium
The first time it happens is in the middle of Kate’s first final at University. She knew it was bound to happen sooner rather than later, but still, knowledge doesn’t mean readiness. The sharp and burning pain from her wrist all the way up to her elbow hits her so strongly that the pen she was holding ends up on the other side of the classroom. Worst yet is the loud wail that follows as she clutches her arm for dear life.
The other kids in the room barely spare her a second glance, too preoccupied in finishing the exam on time to pay attention to a colleagues’ wyrd . Nevermind it was her first.
Mrs. Gonzalez, a fifty-something renowned Criminal Psychologist, picks up the discarded pen and walks up to Kate’s desk. She has a soft, understanding expression on her face, which, if Kate’s being honest, only makes the situation more humiliating. She admires the woman more than any other professor, so to have her witness Kate like this, kind of, sort of makes the girl want to die.
“Do you need to go to the infirmary?” She asks, placing the pen on top of Kate’s exam sheets.
Kate shakes her head vehemently. She quickly unclutches her arm and picks up her pen again, ignoring when the movement pulls at her fresh scar. Mrs. Gonzalez makes a low hissing sound when her eyes find Kate’s forearm. The girl can’t blame her, it does look hideous; blotchy and red.
“Are you sure? I could give you an extension…”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Gonzalez, but thank you,” She says courtly. The older woman studies her face, but eventually relents, letting her go back to her exam, which she finishes with no further accidents.
The second time is more discreet. A paper cut on her right thumb while she is at the library. She sucks her thumb into her mouth, as if it’s actually open and bleeding, and continues her readings.
The third time is her fault. She’s surfing with her brother, Noah, during spring break and somehow manages to get knocked down by a wave hard enough that she scrapes her knees and elbows on the sand. As she washes it clean, she sends a small ‘ sorry ’ into the universe and goes about her day.
When she was little, the thought of having a “better half” made her heart flutter inside her chest, but later, the rose-colored lenses fell and Kate began to realize that maybe a soulmate isn’t all people hype them to be.
It all started during high-school, senior year. Life was good. She was doing amazing academically, had already been accepted into every University she applied for and the cherry on top: she had Alex, her awesome, smart, hot girlfriend. A girlfriend she really, really liked. A girlfriend that was gone the second she turned 18.
“Sorry, Kate. There’s no point really,” The girl had said with a shrug after she cut herself in the kitchen and Kate didn’t automatically scream in pain.
Fucking stupid ass soulmates.
After that, Kate fell into a rabbit hole, researching everything there was to know about soulmates and wyrds and, more specifically, if there was a way to stop it. She even made a cute excel sheet highlighting her most important findings. But the truth is, no one knows where they came from, when they first started, or, unfortunately, how to stop it.
While the myth of a soulmate has been around since Ancient Greece, the oldest record containing the word wyrd dates back to the early 1500s, where it's described as "fate's mark of love." Rumor has it that it's been around for longer, only under a different nomenclature. Since then, little has been discovered about the mythology of it, the purpose of it — other than reuniting two souls that are meant to be — and why it manifests the way it does, why it chose pain to connect soulmates. Everyone has their own interpretation of it; Noah, her friends, the old ladies in the coffee shop.
“It’s not really about the pain, though. It’s about the connection,” Noah, her brother, says everytime Kate complains about it. “Besides, you slap the back of my head all the time. Love is pain.”
She hated this one.
“Maybe it’s a warning,” Her best friend had pondered. “Or a preparation. To deal with the pain of losing them in the future.”
She hated this one even more.
The wyrds start as soon as you turn eighteen. From that point on, whenever your soulmate is hurt, you share their pain. It usually only happens when the injury draws blood, but there have been cases where, if in close proximity, a strong punch or a kick in the ribs has been felt by the counterpart. And if you are the one afflicted by your soulmate’s injury, you get a momentary nasty scar to commemorate the fact that someone out there is supposed to love you for all eternity. How exciting . They usually go away after a few hours, but the phantom pain remains until the soulmate is fully healed.
If you asked Kate then what she thought about it all, her heartbroken self would’ve said it’s bullshit. Take her parents for example, the it couple among their friend group, always happy, always in love… until it was just them alone in a room. How would people react if they knew that, in private, their favorite couple couldn’t even stand being in the same room without attempting murder. Then you also have two of Kate’s closest friends at University, both with such awful soulmates that they ended up with someone completely different and, today, are as happy as they come.
Sure, there were soulmates that were happy together, Noah and Clara were one of them. But Noah dies when Kate is 23 and she gets to witness first-hand the devastation on Clara’s face. Watch how the pain drained the life out of her.
So whatever the outcome, Kate vows to never allow herself to go through those types of horrors. Fuck soulmates. She’s happier on her own.
It’s only on her 32nd birthday that the sentiment begins to fade.
Kate doesn’t talk to any of her University friends anymore, shut every single one of them out after Noah passed, and here, at her fancy job at the DoD, everyone is cold, detached — herself included. When you deal with so much bureaucracy and red tape, forming new connections, as small as they may be, just seems like an avoidable headache.
Don’t get her wrong, she’s more than happy with her own company, but the little gnawing feeling that stirs every time she crosses paths with a happy couple on the streets doesn’t seem to want to leave her alone. It makes her go out more often, to bars much like this one, as she tries to find another soul that doesn't mind fooling around before finding their one. Still, one night does nothing to quell the loneliness rising inside of her and despite her best efforts, that loneliness is not something she manages to get used to.
Thus, as she sits alone in this hole in the wall bar with a sorry excuse for a cupcake in front of her, she lets herself hope. She makes a deliberate cut on her thumb with her bottle cap and as crimson greets her eyes, she lets herself crave it. The connection, the company, the friendship, the love.
A couple days later, when her boss tells her they need someone to represent the team at a meeting in Hawai'i, Kate volunteers herself without even knowing why.
“Delaware?”
Kate looks in the direction of the voice, unsure if the question is being aimed at her or at another patron. Her eyes scan the room and land on a woman on the other side of the counter.
Fuck .
The question, one that Kate cannot remember right now, was most definitely aimed at her. By the most stunning woman Kate has ever laid her eyes on. Her curly brown hair cascades down her very muscular shoulders and onto her very exposed back — Kate tries not to let her eyes linger too long on the muscles there, and let’s not get started on those biceps! She has to make an active effort to tear her eyes away so as to not look like a creep.
Before she can even entertain the thought of how the red and orange pattern on the woman's blouse compliments her skin, or how kissable her lips look, Kate swallows hard and clears her throat, “Come again?”
“Where you're from,” The woman says, playing with the rim of her thick bottomed glass. "It's a game I like to play. I've never seen you in here before, so I'm thinking Delaware." Her lips turn upward in what can only be described as coy smirk, and Kate is hooked.
“You're close, actually. DC,” A smile threatens to break from her lips, she quickly suppresses it. The lust she can excuse, the woman is stunning, but she draws the line at giddiness. “I'm just in town for a meeting. Heard they do a good burger here.”
“Yeah. It's pretty good,” The woman says, not looking at her. She takes a beat, plays with the remaining Whiskey in her glass, then slowly turns towards Kate. “But their wings, that’s…” She winks. She fucking winks . “That's their secret weapon.”
The woman smiles like she’s proud of herself, like she knows the effect she’s causing — maybe she does, Kate’s cheeks feel uncharacteristically warm. She needs to turn the tables, regain some of the control that was never hers to begin with.
Feigning innocence, she starts, a bit louder than before, “It's kinda hard to hear you,” Then a pause. She counts, one, two, three, “Do you wanna… sit closer?”
Kate can see the exact moment the woman falters. It lasts for merely a second. A second that would probably go by unnoticed to anyone else, but Kate’s body, somehow, feels entirely tuned into this woman. Almost as if she could…
“Sure,” The woman’s response comes at the perfect time to stop Kate from venturing into dangerous, dangerous territory.
Getting up and walking towards someone shouldn’t be as attractive as this woman makes it out to be. She makes no eye contact, only picks up her purse, napkin and glass and moves to the stool next to Kate’s. Her bottom lip deliciously tucked between her teeth.
Kate draws a shaky breath and focuses on the burger and fries being placed in front of her. She thanks the bartender and waits until the woman is settled beside her to risk a glance, when she does so, she finds the woman already looking at her. Upclose, Kate can see the mix of lust and something else, curiosity perhaps, in her piercing amber eyes. If she hadn't thought this woman was attractive before, those eyes would've sealed the deal.
When the woman doesn’t say anything else and just stares at Kate, the silence starts to get heavy. Kate, one who has never been comfortable in those, finds herself opening her mouth before her brain is able to filter what’s coming out of it, “So in DC I go to this place called John’s hole in the wall. Supposedly where they planned Watergate.” She is particularly proud to know that fact, but not so proud of how dorky it sounded. In order to pretend that comment didn’t just happen, Kate diverges the subject and starts talking about her burger of choice. “Double Patty, double cheese, smothered in thousand island.”
The woman is looking at her with her mouth slightly open. She seems to be holding back a smile, but there’s also something similar to awe in her eyes. Kate will take that as a win.
“Huh. You don’t seem like a ‘smothered in thousand island’ type of gal,” Her eyes travel down Kate’s body as she says it. If it was anyone else, the comment would’ve annoyed her, but there’s a small smile on the woman’s lips that Kate finds herself mirroring it.
“Yeah. Well, you know. I don’t seem like a lot of things,” She has never been so proud of a delivery before. It’s smooth and flirtatious and it has the other woman licking her lower lip while staring at Kate’s. The blonde has to take a sip out of her own glass to stop a stupid giggle from coming out.
“So uh,” The woman prompts, leaning a bit closer to Kate. Her eyes shining. “What is watergate?”
⤫⤫⤫⤫⤫
Two hours later, they find themselves tucked into one of the corner booths, the woman's thigh pressed firmly against hers. No, not the woman . Lucy. The name rolled off her tongue with a delicious southern twang that almost made Kate blush. Almost. It didn’t take long for her to reveal she was from Texas, a fact that was apparently a source of immense pride. Kate had teased her about it just before making the mistake of asking her what could she possibly love so much about her home state.
Eh, who is she kidding, it wasn't a mistake. Lucy is captivating. The more she talks, the more enthralled Kate feels. Her passion for everything Texan shines through her entire face. It almost makes Kate wish she was from Texas, if only to be something worthy of such devotion.
Kate briefly mentions that she lived in Chicago and Illinois before DC and Lucy, for some reason, seems to find that fact delightful.
The conversation flows easily. Too easily. Lucy is kind and interested, she is incredibly funny and smart too. She pays attention to every word Kate says, and the sound of her laughter has Kate working overtime to keep listening to it again and again. Most importantly, she makes Kate feel good. Really fucking good. She can't remember the last time she has laughed so hard, or felt this comfortable with another person. There isn't a single moment since they’ve started to talk properly where she thinks about soulmates, wyrds , or all the woulds, coulds and shoulds. She is just happy being here, enjoying this nice evening with a pretty girl by her side.
Eventually, Lucy's hand finds its way to Kate's thigh resting comfortably there, the warmth of it permeating into Kate's jeans. Following Lucy's lead, Kate musters enough courage to drape an arm around the back of Lucy’s seat. The brunette immediately shifts closer, cozying herself up against Kate. It feels too normal, like a dance they have practiced for years instead of just a few short hours.
All it takes is another drink for the question Kate has been wondering how to ask all night to come flying out of her mouth, "Do you wanna go somewhere quieter?" It sounds cringey and cliché, but she's tipsy and she really wants to kiss Lucy, so cut her some slack.
A grin slowly forms on Lucy’s lips, "Thought you'd never ask."
“You could’ve asked, you know,” Kate huffs, getting up from her seat.
Lucy, who is following Kate out of the booth, gasps, “I would never. I’m a lady!”
The laughter that bursts out of Kate is entirely accidental.
“I resent that! You know what, I think I might just go home.”
Kate stops in her tracks and slowly turns towards Lucy. The brunette stands with her hands on her hips and a cocked eyebrow.
"Fine. Your loss," Kate says. She spares Lucy one last heated glance before strolling out of the bar and into the parking lot. It takes less than two seconds for Lucy to scream "Hey, I was just kidding. You are so mean!" and dash out after her.
Kate is positively sure she hears a muffled, 'You're lucky I'm into the whole hot mean girl thing' before she hails a cab.
Lucky she is indeed. For two blissful nights and three wonderful days.
As soon as they got into the cab, they were all over each other. Who made the first move was anyone’s guess. Kate was aware that they were somewhat in public, not that the driver seemed to be paying too much attention to them, but the mere thought should’ve been enough to make her pull away, or, at least enough to make her feel embarrassed. Maybe, if it was any other woman, she would’ve, but Lucy kissed like she did everything else: attentively, carefully and passionately and Kate couldn’t even fathom stopping her. So they kissed and kissed and kissed all the way from the bar and up to Kate’s overpriced hotel room that they’ve barely left since.
The only time they did drag themselves out was when Lucy decided she needed to show Kate her favorite spot on the island: a Texan barbecue restaurant. Because, of course, why would Kate ever assume it was a scenic view or a nice, cozy spot at the beach when there was a Texan BBQ restaurant around? How silly of her.
The food was delicious, though. Just not as delicious as the dessert.
Being around Lucy was easy. Her charm and humor made Kate feel way more comfortable than a regular one-night, or two-nights-three-day, stand usually did. It was such a great amount of fun that the thought of missing out on all those waves during the one weekend she had to enjoy them, didn’t phase Kate nearly as much as it should've.
It helps that they’ve kept things as superficial as they could and that in no moment Lucy tried to “accidentally” hurt herself to see how Kate would respond like many others before her did. If anything, Lucy is twice as cautious, not rushing into anything that might cause an accidental wyrd — which, if Kate's being honest, is a loss. She really wanted to feel the burn of Lucy's nails scratching down her back.
It's endearing. Even though, paradoxically, it makes Kate wish she'd do something. Test me , she caught herself thinking after Lucy flicked her tongue just in the right spot. Test me, she thought after they went out and Lucy’s hand didn’t leave hers. Test me , she thought again when Lucy almost made Sprite pour out of Kate's nostrils with a Dad joke. Test me. Test me. Test me .
It goes without saying that it made her panic and she spent every following hour trying to convince herself that it was simply the oxytocin and dopamine clouding her brain. She is fine. Lucy is fine. They are fine. This is fine.
“I fell from a tree when I was 15,” Lucy’s voice pulls Kate away from her thoughts. It takes her a while to understand the reason for the comment, but when she does, she recoils her hand as if burned. It's 12:30PM and Kate has a flight at 4. She should be getting ready to go to the airport and not laying naked in bed, tracing a scar on Lucy's forearm with her index finger.
“I— I’m sorry. I didn’t—”
“It’s fine,” But the smile she gives Kate doesn’t quite meet her eyes. “You’re the first one who didn’t ask.”
It doesn't matter. I don't care about it, is what Kate wants to say. It’s what she should say. But after an extended weekend spent with Lucy staring intently at her, studying her features at any given chance, Kate’s afraid the woman would be able to catch the lie too easily. She doesn’t care that it sounds insane, to her paranoia that is entirely possible. So instead, she opts for what she hopes it’s a nonchalant shrug and a swift change of topic.
“I’m gonna go shower,” She says, proud of how steady her voice sounds. “Care to join?”
Lucy opens her mouth to answer, but her stomach interrupts her with a loud gurgle sound. Kate never thought hearing such an unsexy sound in what should be a sexy moment would make her so happy, but it pulls a carefree laughter from them that is enough to break the remaining tension in the air so she has to be grateful for it.
“Have your shower. I’ll order us some food,” Kate nods before disappearing into the spacious bathroom.
Without Lucy there to distract her, Kate goes through her shower routine more thoroughly than she had during the last couple of days. She takes some extra time with her hair, untangling the knots there, then straightening it and tying it in a high ponytail. She needs to be in full Whistler mode as soon as she steps foot in the airport, the extensive amount of reports and emails she has neglected this weekend are ready and waiting to occupy her for the long ten-hour flight.
However, as she stares at her reflection in the mirror, she sees anything but Whistler. The exhausted, hollow-eyed person she's so used to having reflected back at her is no longer there. In its place is someone lighter. Free. It's almost distressing. For the first time in the last three years, she wonders if she had done the right thing giving away a position at the FBI in order to work protecting the type of intel that could've saved her brother from walking into an ambush.
Kate shakes herself out of her self-pitiful thoughts. Where did that come from? There's no way this fleeting thing with Lucy is making her second guess her career choices on top of everything else. No. She’s good, thank you very much.
She gathers her toiletries into a small bag and goes to leave the bathroom. As luck would have it, her left foot slips on the rug on her way out and she smashes her elbow on the vanity.
"Motherfuc—" She yelps, clutching the throbbing elbow until realization hits, freezing her into place.
Oh no.
Closing her eyes, Kate mentally prepares for the fact she might’ve ruined this wonderful, wonderful time at the very last second — or maybe not, Lucy seems to care about soulmates as much as Kate does. But one can never be too sure. She counts to ten before pulling her hands away. No cuts, no blood. She would do a happy dance right now if it wasn’t for the fear of slipping again.
She leaves the bathroom to find Lucy on the balcony, curled up on a chair with her cheeks full of what's probably an obscene amount of malassadas. The view is so adorable that it takes Kate a few minutes to realize all the other food scattered across the table, chair and floor. Her soft smile immediately turns into a mix of horror and shock.
"You cannot possibly think we can eat all this…"
Lucy jumps, not having noticed Kate's approach. She looks like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. How is this sweet, precious thing the same woman who was making Kate see heaven less than an hour ago?
"Hair. Straight," Lucy says, ignoring Kate’s comment altogether. Her mouth is still full and her eyes are fixated on Kate's ponytail — and neck. She swallows the massadas and, apparently having given up on forming actual sentences, smiles and says, "Hot."
Kate doesn't have time to blush because Lucy's eyes finally travel from her neck and hair down to her arm. The arm she has been absent-mindedly rubbing. The arm whose elbow just got smashed into a sink. Kate sees Lucy's brow furrow.
"Just a bump," Kate says, forcing out a laugh. Why she makes a point of showing Lucy the uncut elbow, she doesn't know. It's not like it matters anymore. She's leaving.
"Right," Lucy elongates the first syllable, looking a shade paler than normal. "Uh, y-you ok?"
"Barely hurt," She lies, she can still feel it throbbing. The weight of Lucy's gaze is making Kate feel a little self-conscious, so, once again, she shifts the subject. "So what's all this?"
It takes Lucy a beat to answer, "Food."
"I can… see that?"
"Sorry," Lucy shakes her head. "It's your last day on the island, so I thought it called for a last food voyage."
"You do know we are just two people, right?"
"You do know I'm from Texas, right?"
"That cannot be your answer to everything."
"Yes. Yes, it can."
Kate rolls her eyes playfully, but her feet remain glued to the spot until Lucy pats the chair beside hers.
"C'mon. We've got a lot of ground to cover."
⤫⤫⤫⤫⤫
The drive to the airport is quicker than Kate would've liked. Even so, she is more than glad that Lucy volunteered to drive her. She would never admit it out loud, but she wasn't ready to say goodbye to her very own version of paradise just yet.
"Here we are," Lucy says, parking the car in front of the departure gate. She exhales loudly and the hand that's been resting on Kate's thigh during the entire ride, squeezes gently.
"Here we are," Kate parrots, but makes no move to open the door.
Lucy smiles at her. It’s soft and genuine, but it’s also sad, lacking the brightness Kate has grown so used to. It scares more than it comforts Kate to know Lucy seems to be as reticent about this whole goodbye thing as she is. If Lucy wasn’t looking at her like that, she may be able to gaslight herself into thinking that these absurd feelings are nothing but the longing for something more that has been playing tricks on her lately. But Lucy is looking at her like that and the feelings that it’s stirring inside her are becoming increasingly difficult to deny.
"Have a nice flight, Kate. Thanks for the…" She wiggles her eyebrows in a playful manner, a bit of sparkle returning to her eyes.
"It was my pleasure," She says, making sure her voice is as sultry as it can be. She doesn't know what the etiquette for saying goodbye to your three days and two nights stand is, so she contents herself into leaning in and brushing her lips against Lucy's cheek. "Have a nice life, Lucy."
Before she can second guess herself, Kate turns to open the door. Lucy seems to have other plans though. She catches Kate’s wrist and pulls her back, kissing her hard enough to bruise. Her fingers scratch Kate's scalp as she pulls her closer, her teeth sinking into Kate's bottom lip. They both half gasp, half moan at the feeling of it. She doesn’t want to stop, wants to let the fire from the kiss consume her, but she needs to leave. If she misses this flight she’s not sure she’ll be strong enough to board another. So with every single ounce of strength left in her body, she pulls away. She kisses Lucy's forehead, opens the car door and leaves.
She doesn't look back.