Chapter Text
The flight to Vegas seemed endless, with Agatha Harkness's aggressive typing creating an irritating percussion track against the dull roar of the engines. The woman behind her shifted for the hundredth time, trying to find comfort in the cramped economy seats that seemed designed for someone half her size. Rio Vidal's work-worn hands fidgeted with her seat belt, the smooth fabric a stark contrast to the rough tool belts and safety harnesses she was accustomed to handling.
The business attire felt like a costume – the charcoal pantsuit she'd bought specifically for this trip still had the tags tucked in the pocket, a reminder that this wasn't her world. Her usual uniform of steel-toed boots and a hard hat felt a lifetime away from the pinching dress shoes and carefully styled hair she'd managed to pull together for this weekend.
"Could you stop moving?" Agatha snapped without looking away from her laptop screen, her perfectly manicured fingers pausing their assault on the keyboard. "Some of us are trying to work." The words carried the practised edge of someone used to having their commands obeyed without question.
They both knew it was a lie – Rio had been watching Agatha's reflection in the window, noting how she'd been staring at the same Excel cell for nearly half an hour, the cursor blinking accusingly in the same spot. The spreadsheet was just a shield, a way to avoid acknowledging that she was trapped on a three-hour flight with someone she considered beneath her corporate notice.
At the company's annual meetings, Agatha had elevated forgetting Rio's name into an art form. It started with "what's-their-face" and evolved into increasingly creative variations: "hey... maintenance," "the construction person," and once, memorably, "you know, the one who wears the yellow hat." Each time, she'd deliver the slight with a smile that never quite reached her eyes, perfect teeth gleaming under fluorescent office lights.
Rio shifted again, this time deliberately, earning another sharp look from Agatha. She didn't want to be here – wouldn't be here if it weren't for Jen. But when your best friend marries someone from the corporate office and begs you to come to their birthday weekend in Vegas, you sometimes find yourself making questionable decisions. Like agreeing to three days in the desert with a group of executives who probably thought a hammer was something you only used in PowerPoint presentations to drive home a point about market penetration.
The Vegas strip materialised beneath them like a mirage, all glittering promises and neon dreams. Rio watched Agatha's reflection again as they descended, catching the slight widening of her eyes at the spectacle below. For just a moment, the corporate mask slipped, revealing something almost human underneath.
The first night in Vegas dissolved into a kaleidoscope of poor decisions, each one slightly more questionable than the last. Jen had rented out a decent bar – nothing fancy by Vegas standards, but several steps up from Rio's usual haunts. The drinks kept flowing, each round eroding the carefully maintained boundaries between corporate and construction, between executive and employee.
Rio found herself at the bar between rounds, watching Agatha hold court with a group of junior executives. Even several drinks in, she maintained that perfect posture, that calculated laugh. But there were cracks showing – her gestures were wider, less controlled, and her usually immaculate blazer had a slight wrinkle at the elbow.
"Another round for the corporate table," Rio told the bartender, surprising herself. Maybe it was the tequila, or maybe it was the way Agatha's laugh had started to sound almost genuine as the night wore on.
The tension that had been building between them all evening finally came to a head near the bathrooms, where the bass from the dance floor was just muted enough to allow conversation. Agatha cornered her there, swaying slightly in her designer heels, one perfectly manicured finger jabbing the air between them.
"You know what your problem is?" Agatha's words had a slight slur, but her eyes were sharp, focused. "You think you belong here. With us. With the executive team." She gestured vaguely toward the VIP section where most of the corporate office had gathered. "It's actually kind of adorable. Like watching a kid play dress-up in their parent's clothes."
The comparison stung more than it should have. Rio had spent years proving herself on construction sites, earning respect the hard way, only to have it dismissed so casually by someone who'd probably never held a tool in their life.
"And you know what your problem is?" Rio shot back, the tequila providing liquid courage and loosening her usual professional restraint. "You're so insecure about your MBA that you treat everyone in a hard hat like they're nothing. Like somehow having a degree from wherever makes you better than people who actually build things."
The words hung between them, heavy with truth and tequila. Rio expected anger, expected the kind of corporate ice that could freeze a career solid. Instead, Agatha laughed – a genuine, unexpected sound that seemed to surprise them both.
"You're funny when you're angry," Agatha said, her smile showing a hint of something real beneath the perfect veneer. "I hate that about you. I hate that you make me laugh when I'm trying to be intimidating."
As the music pulsed through the bathroom, Agatha's eyes locked onto Rio's, the air between them charged with a mix of anger and attraction. The stalls behind them seemed to fade into the background as they stood there, the only sound the thumping bass and their own ragged breathing.
Without another word, Agatha reached out and grabbed Rio's wrist, pulling her into the nearest stall. The door slammed shut behind them, enveloping them in a tight, dimly lit space that smelled of cheap perfume and stale air.
Rio's back hit the wall as Agatha pinned her against it, their faces inches apart. For a moment, they just stared at each other, the tension between them crackling like a live wire.
Then Agatha's mouth was on hers, hot and demanding. Rio felt herself melting into the kiss, her anger and frustration giving way to a raw desire that had been simmering beneath the surface all night.
As they kissed, Agatha's hands roamed over Rio's body, tearing at her clothes with a frantic urgency. Rio reciprocated, her fingers tangling in Agatha's hair as she pulled her closer.
The stall was tiny, but they made it work. Their bodies were pressed together, the heat between them escalating as they devoured each other. Agatha's hands slipped under Rio's shirt, tracing the curve of her waist and the swell of her breasts. Rio's nipples hardened under Agatha's touch, and she arched into the caress, her mouth still locked on Agatha's.
The music outside was a distant hum, a reminder that they were still in a public place, but it only seemed to add to the excitement. They were stealing a moment, sneaking around the rules and societal norms to indulge in their desire.
As they broke apart for air, Rio's eyes flashed with a mix of excitement and trepidation. Agatha's gaze was unapologetic, her pupils dilated with arousal. She didn't apologise or back down; instead, she reached out and yanked Rio back into another kiss.
This time, it was slower, more sensual. Agatha's tongue danced across Rio's lips, teasing out a moan as Rio surrendered to the sensation. The stall around them melted away, leaving only the two of them, lost in the intensity of their passion.