Chapter Text
Stella Gibson smartens her silk shirt in front of the mirror, thankful that no one can see her heart trying to escape from her ribcage beneath it. Nervousness is something she generally associates with coming face to face with a serial killer, except that she’s off-duty tonight, and meeting Reed in some unfamiliar bar. Reed, the thought of whom has successfully managed to send Stella into a panic, practising her words in her head and replaying scenarios that might never happen. This is ridiculous, she tells herself time and time again but at this moment she just can’t rationalise her thoughts. She has never felt like this around anyone before, nor has she ever wanted someone this much. Stella’s never been one for relationships, preferring one night stands followed by a termination of all contact but Reed is proving to be the exception to this rule. She’s certainly never ended a night with no more than a kiss before and it’s a kiss she can’t stop thinking about.
Stella gets to the bar before Reed and picks a seat in the corner, mostly concealed from the eyes of others. She gets herself a drink for courage, and downs it in one, letting the alcohol burn away the last of the December night’s chill. She waits in apprehension of the other woman’s arrival and when she does see her figure in the doorway her breath hitches oddly in her throat. Reed is dressed in black from head to toe, her dark hair loose over her shoulders and making her way over to where Stella is sat.
“Hey,” she slips in to the seat beside her, a small smile twitching in the corner of her mouth. Stella is only slightly reassured by the fact that she’s nervous too.
“Hi,” comes her automatic reply, “Would you like a drink?”
Whilst she’s ordering Reed a drink at the bar, Stella starts to overthink things again. She’s putting herself in a situation where she’s bound to get hurt again, but a surprisingly large part of her doesn’t mind. Reed has made it perfectly clear that she doesn’t feel like Stella does, so she’s just setting herself up for heartbreak. It’s illogical to think that Reed might be worth that pain, but that’s exactly how she feels. It was a bad idea for her to ever agree to this in the first place yet here she is. She picks up two glasses, carries them across to the table and as she sits herself back down she knows that she’s just going to have to go with the flow.
Their chatter isn’t quite awkward for the first few drinks but it’s clear that there’s something they’re avoiding. The conversation continues to drift back to work and Rose Stagg and Stella begins wishing they could talk about anything else. The guilt she’s feeling isn’t doing anything to put her at ease and she’s sure the same can be said for Reed. They’ve spoken about more cheerful matters whilst stood over a corpse. She doesn’t begin to relax until she’s on her fourth drink and Reed’s on her third.
Until the other woman pipes up with: “What are you doing next week?”
“Working.” Stella replies in a split second because she hasn’t even considered doing anything else.
“On Christmas day?” The pathologist stares, horrified but Stella just sighs.
“We’ve got to be one step ahead of Paul Spector. Even if he takes a day off, I can’t afford to,” she admits.
Reed continues to press her. “Surely one day wouldn’t hurt? You could, you know, come to mine?”
“I… I…” Stella is taken aback, “I couldn’t possibly impose myself upon you like that. Your family…”
“It’s just me and the girls this year and I couldn’t bear for you to be lonely.”
“I don’t mind being lonely.”
“Well, I mind for you. Say you’ll come.” She tilts her head slightly, a small smile turning up the corners of her mouth. Stella allows herself to be convinced.
“Okay, I’ll come.”
“Good, my girls are so excited to meet you.”
“Have you spoken to them about me?”
“A little.”
“What have you said?”
“Nothing bad, honestly.”
“But you have told them about me?” If Stella is truthful with herself, she’s flattered.
“They… Well, the kind of have… I told them that you fight bad guys. And now they think you’re Ireland’s answer to the Black Widow… My eldest loves the Avengers, you see.”
A smile creeps on to Stella’s lips and half a laugh escapes. Reed looks bewildered and it occurs to Stella that she might have never seen her like this before.
“What?” The pathologist inquires, her voice confused.
“Nothing, it’s just that that’s so far from the truth but it’s still adorable.” Reed smiles too, at this.
***
“I really should get going,” Reed’s watch shows the time to be hurtling towards midnight.
“Me too,” Stella replies, although she has nowhere particularly to be.
Wordlessly they shrug on their coats and walk towards the door together. It’s only when they are hovering beneath the porch that Stella realises she doesn’t want to leave.
“That was nice.” Stella echoes her own words.
“Yes it was,” Reed laughs, “We should do this again some time.”
“Does next Thursday sound good to you?”
“I’ll have to check my diary but I’m pretty sure I’m free.”
“Thank god, I’m not sure when else I could fit you in,” Stella jokes, eyes fixed on the other woman.
But Reed isn’t looking at her, she’s focussed on something a few feet above Stella’s head, struggling to supress a grin. Stella looks up.
She isn’t sure who initiates the kiss but within a second of seeing the mistletoe their lips are touching and it’s more than Stella could have wished for. When Reed pulls away, though, there’s a worrying sadness in her eyes.
“What’s the matter?”
“I’m sorry…” Stella holds her breath in fear of Reed walking away again, but she doesn’t move. Stella doesn’t ask her to elaborate but she does, “… About last time I mean. I’d never… it’s not that I hadn’t thought about it, about us, before but I wasn’t expecting it, when you kissed me and I’ve never done anything like that before and I thought I could just relax and go with the flow but I couldn’t. It was too fast for me, I’m sorry…” She trails off, her dark eyes large and scrutinising Stella for a reaction.
“It’s okay.”
This clearly isn’t the one she’s expecting. “Pardon?”
“It’s okay. I rushed you and I shouldn’t have. I knew that I was making you uncomfortable but I acted on a selfish whim.”
“I wasn’t uncomfortable exactly, not kissing you.”
“You weren’t?” The words slipped from Stella in surprise.
“No, else why would I have kissed you again.”
“I suppose that’s logical,” she smiles, reaching out to tuck a stray hair back behind Reed’s ear.
And all of a sudden they’re kissing once more, in the doorway of a bar in central Belfast where the entire city can see them. The passers-by and the cold don’t bother Reed, not when she has one hand on Stella’s waist and the other in her hair. They bother Stella even less; even a harsh wolf whistle from the other side of the street can’t divert her attention. At that moment it was just her and Reed, beneath the mistletoe one night in December.