Work Text:
Low orange and yellow light fills the station house as the constables are packing their things for the night. And Iona walks into the main room to see Olivia Leeming gathering her supplies.
She takes off her gloves, her gaze fixed onto Olivia, and Iona doesn’t seem to realize she’s staring until Olivia looks up from her desk,
“Iona,”
“Olivia,”
Just a few months ago, they referred to one another as “Ms. Berger” and “Ms. Leeming.” Iona can’t seem to put her finger on exactly when the shift was made. And yet somehow she doesn’t question it, or why referring to Olivia by her first name rolls off the tongue so easily. It’s a habit she didn’t realize she had built up, and its a habit she doesn’t mind keeping up,
“I thought you’d have packed up by now,”
“I still have some things to gather,”
“You know, me and Llewellyn are going to the Starbright, after this,” Olivia says,
“Well, you do know how I feel as a morality officer about an establishment with drinks and mixed company,” Iona says, and she doesn’t question her words until Olivia replies,
“About that, Llewellyn told me that just after the station house had closed down, you and some of the other members had gone to a bar. And you ordered a drink,”
For a moment, Iona stands there in a mild state of shock, how did Llewellyn remember that? She scrambles to come up with something to explain away her breaking her own rules,
“Well—the bartender kept insisting that one of buy drinks, so I did so to keep him at bay,”
She herself barely believes the words coming out of her mouth, and part of her knows that her excuse won’t hold up if Olivia presses her further. But she stands with her hands in front of her and hopes that it’s enough to convince her,
“Hm, I see,”
“I—do they serve anything other than…liquor at the Starbright?” Iona finds herself asking, meeker than she wants to come off.
“If I remember correctly, they do serve some occasional spruce beers, and ciders, and music takes up a good portion of the club,”
It’s not whether or not they serve drinks that’s the problem. She’s been in much worse places than the Starbright, and even that slightly dingy bar that her and the other constabulary members gathered at. But she has an image to uphold, even if she can’t always hold herself to the standards that she holds others to,
“Then I suppose that it wouldn’t hurt to give the establishment a chance, but do know that I’ll still be in uniform while I’m there,
“Trust me, morality officers have done much worse,”
“I’m aware of the hypocritical nature that some morality officers tend to have, and I’m alos aware that it’s part of my job as a special constable to not violate my own rules,”
It’s true, she’s heard the tales of morality officers that get caught out for things like possessing pornography when they persecute others for so much as looking at a suggestive painting. She’s heard of them drinking and all kinds of things that would get any person a fine, or worse. But she vowed to herself that she wouldn’t fall prey to those traps.
“So, does that mean you’ll go with me?” Olivia asks, much more direct than she’s been in their back-and-forth.
“I suppose so,”
It isn’t until Olivia is mere inches away from her face that she realizes how close they’ve managed to get over just a few minutes of conversation. And the silence doesn’t help the fact that she can hear her heart racing in her ears. Or that slight rush of heat that makes it’s way to her cheeks.
She remembers when they were standing like this, just some time ago. Except they were much further, until Olivia had partially closed the gap as she shared her sketches of the dog and of Detective Watts.
Olivia starts to turn around, making her way towards the door, but something in Iona lights up. A nagging feeling that she can’t let her get away this easily, that she still has something on her chest that she needs to get off,
“W-wait,”
Those words get Olivia to turn around, and suddenly, they’re closer than Iona thought they had already gotten,”
“I—”
“Can I…kiss you?”
The silence is deafening. Mentally, Iona wants to slap herself silly for even suggesting what she had just asked. Part of her hopes that she can play off her request, but Olivia seems amused. Like she had somehow expected her to ask this question,
“In a station house?”
Iona turns her head from side to side, the station house is empty as far as her eyes can see. And the door is a portal to the outside with no one standing in front of it.
“I don’t see anyone around,”
“As a morality officer?”
“I’ve done worse,”
For a moment, Iona has no idea where this could be going, but part of her anticipates that Olivia may or may not fulfill her request. She doesn’t remember the last time that anyone had kissed her, and she wouldn’t be surprised if she figured out that it had never happened. And so, she sort of stands there. But still somewhat ready in case Olivia leans in,
“If you say so,”
Iona closes her eyes, and suddenly, she feels the warmth of Olivia’s lips on hers.
Her hands dangle at her sides, she’s not sure if she should do anything. All she does is linger in the moment, her heart flutters. And something about their faces being pressed together feels so…correct.
When she opens her eyes, Olivia gently pulls away, looking at her with a smile on her face. And Iona can’t help but to give in to the smile tugging at her lips.
“Wait…can I do it again?”
She’s not sure if she’s saying it to get a do-over on her previous kiss, to make up for the way she awkwardly stood there doing practically nothing. Or if she’s doing it to simply feel Olivia’s lips against hers again.
But when their lips meet, she has no further questions in her brain.
She tries to do a little more, putting her hands behind her back and leaning in, prolonging the moment a little longer. If not so she has a little more to remember when she inevitably reminisces on the moment before she goes to bed. As she can only predict, she will.
The first time is never perfect, she’s told herself, but between the two moments that she’s just shared with Olivia, she’s not sure which one could be more perfect.
“So are we going to the Starbright, or do you feel like staying here a little longer?”
Part of her wants to say the second, she can see it, pressing her lips against Olivia’s as many times as she’ll allow, but part of her is curious about the Starbright. She’s heard the tales of the dancer, and the music, and the fancy interior.
“We’ll go to the Starbright,”
As Olivia starts to walk away, she finds herself walking up to her,
“Before you go, can I just…”
For the first time, she leans in. Iona closes her eyes without fear, she holds onto Olivia, placing her hands on her shoulders like she’s done so her whole life. And she can feel Olivia’s hands on her waist, like they were meant to be in this pose, this position, the whole time.
“You know, the second part of my offer’s still up for grabs,”
“I know, we’re still up for the Starbright, but I just need a moment to get my things,”
“Alright, I’ll be waiting outside, Iona,”
“I’ll be right there with you, miss leem—I mean Olivia,” For a moment, she stumbles over her words, the term “Ms. Leeming” feels so far away, but she can only assume the force of habit made her slip up.
She gathers her gloves, putting them on over her hands, she hears Olivia’s chuckle as she makes her way to the door. And in that moment, Iona simply lingers in the air of the empty Station House, and the door in front of her is open with Olivia on the other side. She revels in the reverie of the events that just transpired.
She’s made her vow not to be such a hypocrite. But if she can look at a nude drawing and order a drink from the bar, surely the law will make an exception for her deciding to kiss a dear friend of hers.
When she sees Olivia leave through the front door, she decides to follow.
