Work Text:
“Kay?”
Ema drops her investigating tote on the ground next to the front door, slipping off her heels and rubbing at the sole. Lots of ground to cover for the investigation. Bloody snow at a public playground of all places. Why can’t people murder people normally?!
But it’s fine, that’s tomorrow’s problem, she’s turned in everything she needed to and it’s only eight! Plenty of time to relax over a shitty romcom and a cheap glass of wine with her awesome and lovely girlfriend who currently — isn’t at home…?
Ema peeks over the kitchen counter, under the small dining table, into the hallway. The window isn’t open, so she probably didn’t leave through there, did she actually go out the front door? Must’ve been urgent.
To be fair, she still hasn’t asked Kay to move in with her. Both of them are too busy with work, whatever that is for Kay, and besides, what they have going on right now is enough. Sure Ema pays for the rent and utilities and food and entertainment, but at least Kay keeps her company, right?
“Oh my god.” Ema pulls out a dining chair and drops her keys on the table with a thud. “Kay’s like my cat.”
“Um, meow?”
Ema jumps, ironically, like a cat out of her seat and spins towards the sudden voice next to her. “KAY!”
Kay shrugs, though her poorly hidden laughter trembles through the motion. “Hey, maybe I should consider putting that on my resume.” She lifts a hand and waves it in an arc, saying: “Kay Faraday: cat-like reflexes and meow-volous intelligence.”
“Cat-like reflexes….?” Ema winces, glancing behind her and at the trail of mysterious looking liquid exposing her hiding place behind what looks to be a potted plant Ema doesn’t remember buying??? She picks up the fallen chair and stands it upright. She needs to sit down. “That’s not fish oil, is it?”
“Does it smell like it?”
“Wrong answer. But no, it does not. Is it going to stain the wood?”
“Does laminate stain easily?”
Ema sighs and rubs her eyes with one hand. “Not that I know of…”
“Then stop scrambling eggs that aren’t even there, Ema.” Kay huffs lightly, pulling her girlfriend into a tight hug. And Ema knows she can completely melt into Kay's powerful arms and shoulder without a single worry in the world. And she smells normal too, so at least it’s not a liquid that she should be worrying about, right? “I got you babe.”
“Yeah, what’s the liquid?”
“Hmm, good question.”
And so the moment is ruined as Kay lets go and inspects her back pocket, well, one of her back pockets. She pulls out a pen that has a cute vial charm at the end of it. “Oh! That’s right, I found this awesome charm that reminded me of you and I knew you would love it.”
“Well,” Ema winces, carefully taking the pen out of Kay’s gloved hand. She’s lucky her gloves are black. Or is that a risk/safety thing? She should really get around to asking what Kay does for a living. “You’re right, the charm is super cute. I’ll just transfer it to my tote bag after cleaning the ink.”
“Heh, sorry, Ema.”
“You’re fine, Kay.” And Ema means it, even when she has to grab a couple tissues from the dining table and hold it under the slowly leaking pen so she can wash it out in her sink. Man, this sink has seen some things. “Mind grabbing some wipes from under the utensils drawer?”
“I don’t know why it started leaking all of a sudden,” Kay continues, kneeling beside Ema with a pout. “It’s supposed to be an invisible ink pen.”
Ema laughs, running the water. “Looks pretty visible to me, but the thought itself was sweet, babe. Thank you for the gift.”
This is just like when a cat would bring dead animals inside their owner’s homes, isn’t it? “Hey Kay?”
“Yeah?” Kay calls out from past the counter, wiping the very visible splotches on the floor. Yeah, this thing is totally drained now.
“Um… would…?”
“Hmm?” Kay turns curiously at the silence, eyes wide.
“Would you ever consider getting a job…?”
“What kind of question is that?!” Kay gasps, jumping to her feet effortlessly. Like a— “If you keep thinking I’m a cat, one day you’ll come home to a real one and not your cooler and very romantic girlfriend.”
“Cats are pretty cute.”
“Cuter than me?!”
Ema bites her lip and pulls her shoulders to her ears. “Well…”
“So you hate me!” Kay sticks her tongue out and walks towards the front door with heavy steps.
“Wait, wait!” Ema laughs, dropping the pen into the sink and running to Kay’s side with her hands up, still dripping. “Noo, don’t leave, who’s going to cook dinner!”
“Is that all I am to you? A cook?”
“Kaaaaaay,,,!”
Kay resists as much as she can, turning her head away with a stern pout on her lips that Ema knows she can magically make disappear with a simple trick. If only she turned her way.
But all it takes is a single glance and Ema knows she’s got her hook, line and sinker. “.... And you’re telling me I have cat tendencies, I swear you have the craziest puppy dog eyes!”
“Is fillet mignon still on the table tonight?”
“Eh, close enough. Just warm up the rice and I’ll heat up the pan.”
“Yay!” Ema raises her arms in celebration, leftover droplets splashing on top of their faces and onto the floor below.
It’s just water, but they do try to dry the areas before getting to quick work. Filet mignon sounds fancy for cooked beef on the stove, medium cooked (or the best that Kay can guesstimate), but it still hits the spot after a long day. Even better when Ema gets to eat next to someone she loves, and knows loves her back. Probably. If only she paid rent.
“Ema.”
“Yeah, Kay?”
“Mind helping me move my stuff into our room?”
“Is this going on my payroll?”
“Better if you’re willing to wait.”
Ema hums deliberately, despite already knowing her answer. “... Mind paying half the rent?”
“You don’t even pay rent! You’re still living off of Lana!”
“No I’m not! I’ve been paying for everything since last year!”
“That was a month ago!”
“Still!”
“Oh my god,” Kay rolls her eyes, standing with her empty plate to put it in the sink. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Yeah, what about your cat-titude," Ema grumbles under her breath as she scoops another bite onto her spoon.
A ceramic plate is set down sternly on the counter.
— —
The lights are off in the main part of the quiet apartment. There are still splotches of glowing ink on the floor.