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“Mmmph! Mmph!”
“Ugh, you really shouldn’t whine so much, you know?”
For most burglars, there was a point in tonight’s escapade that would have been too much. For some, it would have been the realisation that the occupant of the apartment, new-build white in central London, was in. For others, it would have been the moment it became clear that the occupant in question was awake, despite the late hour, watching YouTube videos by smartphone-glare. And for others still, it would have been the point at which it sank in that the occupant had a very familiar face, one on-display on several of the posters in the hall.
But not Reagan. Oh, she knew full well that a notorious thief was a thief with a short career, and robbing celebrities was an easy way to get such notoriety; but she also knew that rich and famous still meant rich, and well-known faces tended to own interesting artefacts, and even if they didn’t, there was always the crowd willing to pay for something ordinary just because it had been touched once by someone well-known.
“Hmmph.”
Her ‘host’ for tonight didn’t seem to appreciate that, though. Probably because they’d imagined spending their evening bundled up in the dark fabric of their oversized hoodie, watching some trashy videos and then turning off to sleep, instead of being grabbed by an intruder. Their present situation was probably quite uncomfortable, if Reagan was honest, but she was rarely honest, so she didn’t care; there was no use in taking chances.
So the young person was bundled up tightly. Shiny silver tape wrapped their hands into mittens, their wrists together, and their arms tight to each other and to their back; more kept their legs together, and while she’d tried to avoid getting the stuff on skin, they’d only been wearing soft shorts and white socks, so there hadn’t really been anywhere for the wrappings above and below their knees to go.
The pièce de résistance was their gag. By Reagan’s own standards, she’d been nice about it; she’d stuffed a clean sock in there, enough to shut them up without forcing their mouth wide open, and made sure to wrap the tape beneath the brown hair that hung, more than a little messy, from a middle part down to their shoulders. Not that they seemed to appreciate it.
No, they were still content to stew, glaring at Reagan from where she’d dumped them, on the end of their sofa, to squirm. And every time she touched sometbinh, or even considered it, there would come more muffled protests from that end of the room.
“Hmmph! Lmmm mm ghh.”
Reagan only rolled her eyes, deciding the Bluetooth speaker on the desk should probably go in her duffle bag. “Honestly, Bella, you’re being such a baby about this.”
Looking back, she found Bella Ramsey was now glaring at her, again, the young actor’s cheeks just a little flushed with defiance. She couldn’t help a smirk; if they were going to be ungrateful, then why shouldn’t she get under their skin a little?
“I mean, really,” she went on, drifting over to the wardrobe and pretending to peruse, “it could be a lot worse.”
“Hmph,” Bella snorted, peering up at Reagan as if to say “really?”
“Of course,” the thief scoffed, softly. “A young person, living all alone in their appartment, when a burglar breaks in…” Bella’s eyes narrowed again, and Reagan just went on smirking. “I’m sure there are plenty of people who would just love to have you in that position, and no end of people I could be selling your bathwater to as we speak.”
She shook her head. “And before you protest me calling you young, because I know you’re going to, little-mx-twenty-first-birthday, I’ll have you know I’m almost a decade older than you. So to me you’re a young person; a cute one, yes, but still.”
That got her a snort; only this time, it sounded less indignant. Behind tape and cloth, it almost sounded like the bones of a chuckle, and Reagan felt the tiniest rise of heat in her cheeks. “What?” she asked briskly, whirling back to face the sofa. “What part of that was funny?”
Bella only fixed her with that same look, back to irritation and defiance. And suddenly, quietly, Reagan found it all just a little bit less fun.
So she stepped over, wary dark eyes watching her approach. “I did mean that, you know? Not to say that I’d buy your bathwater, or whatever it is that freaks online want these days, but…” Their look didn’t change, all dubious. “Dammit, I’m trying to give you an honest compliment! Had enough of those, have you?”
Bella snorted again, mirth creeping in around their walls. “Mmmph,” they noted softly, before looking away, cheeks flushed a little behind the tape. And in the moment that followed, just for a moment, Reagan wasn’t quite sure what to say.
Was she really doing this? Was she really that bloody stupid? Was there no point at which she would stand up and say “nope, this is too much”?
“Maybe… you haven’t been quite as bad as I’ve said,” she began hesitantly. “Maybe… maybe you could have been much more upset about all this.”
“Mmmph,” Bella snorted dryly.
“…and maybe, then…” Dammit, why were her words suddenly heavier. “Maybe I can give you one thing back.”
She reached out, slowly; her hand was halfway to Bella’s cheek when the captive started back, letting out a wary “hmmph?” and watching her with deepening suspicion. Reagan couldn’t help a sigh; the words were getting heavy again.
“Look, I’m being honest here, which is more than I need to be to get what I want.” She reached out again, almost glacially-slow, making sure Bella could see what she was doing. “If you don’t want it, you don’t want it, but at least let me try? I promise, if it was something bad, I would have done it already; I’ve already had so long to mess with you if I wanted to.”
That seemed to do it. Bella didn’t trust her, definitely, but they did settle, letting that hand creep closer. Until, feeling more than a little ginger herself, Reagan was able to gently cup their cheek, her thumb brushing lightly over the tape. Traitorously, she found her teeth chewing at her bottom lip as she did so, and another admission slipping out.
“Cute might be an understatement, you know?”
They flushed at that, despite it all, and that was all Reagan needed to go for it. So she leaned in, aiming for the frankly downright adorable impression of Bella’s lips just visible through the tape, and pressed her own to them.
For a moment, Bella was ramrod-straight, tense with what must have been surprise. But then they seemed to settle into it; even with the barrier, Reagan could feel them start to kiss back, closing their eyes and leaning in and letting themself enjoy it. And for just a moment, something was right, before the two of them pulled back again, blushing fiercely.
“Hmmph,” Bella murmured, flustered and frustrated, and Reagan couldn’t help herself; she went in for an extra parting kiss upon their forehead, revelling in the little muffled squeak they gave in response.
“Well, it seems like someone had fun,” she noted; Bella shot her a pointed look. “Not that I didn’t, of course. But I aim to please.”
“Mmph.”
“Was…” Quietly, Reagan cursed herself; she was the older party, and her counterpart was bound and gagged for crying out loud. Why was she the one acting the part of the awkward youngster? “Was that your first kiss with a girl?”
Bella flushed again, and their eyes averted. “Hht wsshnt mmch hhhv hh fssht tmm,” they mumbled, before giving a tiny nod, almost as-if ashamed.
Reagan looked at them for a moment, then down, down to the duffel bag she’d forgotten in the moment. Inside, her oh-so-traitorous heart thumped. Because dammit she’d been right; cute was an understatement, and needling was fun but really upsetting wasn’t, and now they’d kissed there was something there whether she liked it or not.
And if there was something valuable in this place, it wasn’t in mid-range electronics and keepsakes from old Netflix shoots.
“Well,” she said finally, with such feeling behind it that Bella’s gaze snapped back up to her. “I could always show you a real first time.”
That got her another “mmmph.” And another look, as if to say “really? You?” But it was less confrontational, now, more fed-up in a used-to-this way, in a way that Reagan found downright adorable. Dare she admit it, there seemed almost like there was a little veneer of trust there, now. Which meant that it was time to push things, obviously.
“I’m serious,” she soothed. “I’ll tell you what; I’ll give you some-”
“Mmph.”
“Most of your stuff back, if you let me spend tonight with you.” She held up both hands, anticipating the reaction. “That doesn’t have to mean pushing things any further, or it might, I leave that in your… probably normally very capable hands. To be honest, I don’t go in much for all that freaky stuff, but I can’t say your current predicament doesn’t add a more-than-a-little to that cuteness you insist on demonstrating.”
Bella flushed again, and this time, it almost looked like they were smiling just a little, flustered all over. “Hmmph.”
“Either way, let me steal you away for one night, and we can… see what we find out about each other?” If she was really honest, that was probably the most earnest Reagan had been since she was about twelve. But she didn’t like being really honest, except for when Bella’s presence somehow forced it out of her, so she smothered that thought.
Bella didn’t reply verbally, not that they could. Instead, they just sat there for a moment, seemingly lost in thought, and then did the one thing Reagan was absolutely not expecting at all; they scrunched their eyes shut, and leaned in, and kind-of bumped their gagged lips against the side of her cheek in an awkward and yet adorably earnest imitation of returning the kiss.
And Reagan just about short-circuited at the contact.
“Right… right,” she managed after a moment, not missing the sudden glimpse of mirth in Bella’s dark eyes. “Well, I’m glad… no, that’s not it, but I don’t really have the right words to express the feeling so glad will have to do.”
“Hmmmph,” Bella snickered, still flushed.
With a fondly frustrated sigh, Reagan reached out again. “So… I should probably let you at least a little bit out now, if we are going to work this out.” Her hand drifted back towards the gag, something bubbling in her chest at the thought of kissing them for real. “Assuming I can still trust you not to make anymore fuss, of course.”
“Yhhh cnn,” Bella mumbled. Then they looked away, shifting back a little, the red in their cheeks refusing to go down. “Bhhht… mmm hhlrght thh sthhhy lcck thssh, nmmm hh knhh yhrr nht shh bhhd.”
“Not so bad?” Reagan scoffed, but it was all fond now. “After how kind I’ve been to you? You have some cheek, you know that?” Bella just rolled their eyes; the fondness only grew. “But… fine, fine, I can oblige you that, cutie.”
“Rhhhly?” did come out in full this time, accompanied by more infuriatingly appealing blushing.
“What? It’s not my fault you’re adorable, and doubly-so tied up, now is it?” Reagan teased. “Some day, I will have to kiss you properly, I hope you understand that. But for now… of course you can stay; we can stay just like this, if you want?”
With that, she reached out; this time, her arm wrapped around Bella’s shoulders, and the young actor let out a teeny yelp as they were pulled into an exaggerated squeeze against her side. But, after a moment, they seemed to accept it, settling into the touch. And so Reagan did the same, letting herself nestle in with them; they had the whole night, so what was a little time just snuggled together?
Feeling that bubbling rise again, she leaned over, and on impulse planted another little kiss, right on the forehead of her…
Captive? Friend? Partner?
Whatever, Reagan decided, it didn’t matter. What mattered was the tiny yelp they gave in response, and then the gentle brush of tape against her own cheeks.
She could figure out the rest in the morning.