Work Text:
The work gloves were rough on Fareeha’s hands, the security guard finding herself tugging on the edges, absentminded as she looked at the front yard. The orange on the trees, the sharp chill in the air, the escaping daylight. No doubt about it, it was fall. The security guard took a deep breath of the cold air, gripping the rake in her hand as she walked down the front steps, the concrete already holding a light layer of frost. The front yard was covered in leaves of different colors, the small trees she had planted a few springs ago having shed their summer clothes. As much as the shades of yellow and red looked nice as a seasonal blanket, Pharah couldn’t have the lawn looking like a goddamn mess when spring rolled around. The ex-military bodybuilder rolled her shoulders before setting to work, trying not to think how many hours this was going to take.
“Babe, I’m not saying I don’t think what you’re doing isn’t important, but I really need your help with the yard.” Twenty minutes earlier, Fareeha drummed her fingers on the kitchen table, trying not to argue with her wife. Angela’s mouth pursed as she continued to tie braids into Dieter’s fur. She stopped, shifting her attention to her wife with a flicker in her eyes.
“Are you saying you’re not interested in my hobbies?”
“Babe, no, that’s not what I’m saying please listen to me.” Fareeha stopped herself from hitting the table, trying to convey the importance of raking the lawn. “It’s almost evening and the sun’s going to be setting soon. If we both worked hard it would take half an hour at most.”
“Oh, so now you’re saying I’m not already working hard? Is that it?” Angela glared at her beautiful wife, running a hand through the countless braids aligned on Dieter’s fur. “Why don’t you go ask Hana.” Fareeha sighed, nodding and lightly patting Dieter before standing up, choosing her battles as she headed upstairs.
Hana, meanwhile, was too busy analyzing next generation Pokemon to even consider doing anything else that day, barely raising a brow as her magnificently buff mother broke into her room. “Boy, I sure do love not mowing the lawn or whatever the fuck else you came here to ask me to do.”
“Hana, I could really use your cooperation and your mother isn’t being very helpful.” Fareeha leaned in the doorway, trying to sound hopeful as the celebrity gamer spun around in her swivel chair.
“ BOY, I SURE DO LOVE -”
“Okay I get the point you don’t have to be rude about it. Geez.” Pharah closed the door on her way out, Hana turning back to her computer as a large pdf of a sandshrew sat on her screen.
“God I love my job.” Hana smiled, opening a stream for nothing more than to show half a billion people a picture of a sandshrew. After twenty minutes she had enough money for a new sports car.
And so, here she was, working earnestly to get the lawn done by sundown. Stopping only to pick leaves off the metal spokes of her rake, Fareeha slowly formed several small piles of leaves in all the corners of the yard. Ten minutes later and she was leaning against one of the trees, taking a short break as the cold nipped at her ears. She could probably use some hot chocolate right now. Maybe Angela was cooking a wonderful dinner. Maybe Angela was waiting for her to get back so she could cook a wonderful dinner. Fareeha shook her head, intensely hoping that wasn’t going to be the case tonight. Finishing her break, Pharah looked back at her accomplished work, the current result rather disappointing. Time to get back to work. By herself. In the cold. Because some people are fucking lazy.
“She’s really working hard out there.” Hana and Angela watched from the kitchen window, sitting at the table with a fully-braided Dieter.
“She’s probably fine.” Hana felt her muscles ache just by watching her. “Pass me some more cocoa.” The teenager graciously held out her mug as Angela filled it to the brim, a pot of homemade hot chocolate sitting on the kitchen table. “God this is some good shit right here.”
“Do you think we should help her? It looks hard.” Angela raised her own mug to her lips, willing to go through hell and back for her beloved. If hell was mild physical labor.
“Mom, you answered your own question. Think.” Hana tapped her noggin, silently asking her mother if she was insane. “Have some common sense. You can help after you jump into the finished pile of leaves, duh.”
“.....That’s a good point. You are a genius, aren’t you?”
“Takes one to know one.”
“So anyway, I was wondering, are you going to be inviting that musician friend of yours over for the Halloween party? I know you guys aren’t….dating, but it would still be fun.” Angela gingerly looked at her daughter, trying to appear as motherly as possible. Hana groaned, throwing back the rest of her hot chocolate before responding.
“Obviously I’m inviting him, he’s my friend! I’m not gonna refuse to hang out with him just because we aren’t dating. I swear you spend half your time thinking about sex, christ.” Angela brushed some hair from her eyes, unable to respond to the unnecessarily true statement. “The real question here is do you plan to invite your mother? Mother-in-law, whatever.”
“...She invited herself and already said she was bringing Reinhardt.” Angela zoned out as she spoke, dreading her mother-in-law’s arrival. At least she could get drunk with Wilhelm. Drunk enough to phase out of whatever card game Ana would insist they play this time.
Fareeha looked upon her finished yard work with a small sense of pride, the large pile of orange and yellow leaves standing tall as a result of her work. All that was left was to put it in a wheelbarrow and take it back to the compost heap by the backyard. Of course, Fareeha knew better than to leave her hard labor unattended. Not only could she see her wife and daughter talking through the kitchen window, but if this was anything like last fall, Mercy would want to take full advantage of a vulnerable pile of leaves. The military veteran clenched her rake as she steeled her mind. Never, not again. Never would she let another disaster like last year occur ever again. Pharah remembered the aftermath in vivid detail. An extra four minutes of work, because honestly jumping into a pile of leaves doesn’t scatter them too much and this is Angela we’re talking about here, really.
Still, Fareeha formed a countermeasure. With all the ingenuity of a Vietnamese tiger trap, she carefully underlaid her rake in the pile of leaves. Genius. She almost burst out laughing at the idea of Angela being taught a lesson. Although being mildly concerned about hurting her wife too much, Pharah stepped back from her work, leaning against one of the trees as she waited. Eventually the front door cracked open. Out came her wife, looking amazing as always with a grey windbreaker and scarf to match. She was doing her best to look inconspicuous as she approached Fareeha and, more importantly, the pile of leaves.
“Heeeey, sweetheart. Just got done with Dieter. I think you’ll appreciate it. Anyway, came out here to see what you’re up to, if you needed any help. I see you already got everything cleaned up. It looks nice.”
“Thanks, babe. Took a lot of work. A LOT of work. Copious amounts of labor and sweat. So much work.” Fareeha spoke with mock exasperation, pulling off her work gloves as Mercy stepped closer and closer to the pile.
“Is that so. Then it would be a shame if something were to happen to it.” Angela didn’t give her wife time to respond as she jumped into the pillowy pile of nature, leaves cascading down from the sky as the doctor relished in her victory. Fareeha stood by, speechless. Her plan had been perfect. She wouldn’t stand for this.
“Get up, babe. Get up. Babe.” Fareeha pushed the snickering Angela aside, the doctor giggling at her from the ground. Everything should have gone according to plan. Pharah jumped into the pile, the rake popping up as she landed, the hard wooden stick catching the side of her head. Black.
Fareeha groaned as she slowly opened her eyes, a groggy vision of the living room ceiling above her. She held her head, a throbbing pain on the side of her face causing her to close her eyes again. The security guard felt something soft on her legs, opening her eyes and blinking as Angela sat on the couch.
“What...happened?” Fareeha did her best to sit up, rubbing her eyes as her vision came back into focus.
“That rake got you good, knocked you out immediately. How are you feeling?” Fareeha
flinched as Mercy reached out, lightly touching the dark bruise on her face. Pharah let out a small grumble.
“Like I got hit by a rake.”
“Accurate.” Angela agreed, giving her wife a kiss on the cheek before getting up off the couch. “Hana and I finished up the yard, you did a good job.”
“Yeah, thanks to some people.” Fareeha turned over on the couch, mildly irritated. Her head hurt too much to be upset, but she wasn’t exactly happy with her family, either. Angela sighed, knowing she had messed up. Probably one of the only times she would admit that.
“Here, let me get you something. Hana and I weren’t just goofing off, you know.” Mercy gave her beloved a pat on the shoulder before disappearing to the kitchen. A few minutes passed, Fareeha staring at the ceiling before Angela came back, the doctor carrying a pot and a pair of mugs. Pharah propped herself up on the couch as Angela ladled the hot chocolate into her cup, handing it to the injured sweetheart with both hands. “It’s hot chocolate. I made it myself. Drink it, you were shivering like a snowman in your sleep.”
Fareeha was too hurt to protest, not that she would protest against homemade hot chocolate to begin with. The mug warmed her hands as she brought it to her lips, taking a long sip before stopping to breath, the warm sugary drink reminding her of home. She stopped, looking at the drink before turning to her wife. “Where did you get this recipe?”
Angela hesitated before answering. “Your mother gave it to me. I thought I would give it a try. To be frank, I’ve never had hot chocolate with spice in it. It’s pretty good.” Fareeha smiled as the sweet smell tickled her nose, faint memories of her childhood drifting in her mind. She remembered the first time her mother made hot chocolate, a congratulations for winning an elementary spelling bee. The taste was nostalgic. The two moms looked up from their drinks as a solid thump was heard at the top of the stairs, their daughter having apparently tripped over her own two feet before shaking it off. Some quiet swearing could be heard as she got back to her feet.
“I heard you got knocked the fuck out by a rake, that's fucking hilarious!” Hana laughed as she descended the staircase, more worried about her precious mother than she was willing to let on.
“Okay but you literally just fell on your face. Are you okay?” Fareeha sipped her drink as Hana’s cheek tinged red, having assumed no one saw her accident. “In any case, have you tried this hot chocolate? It’s really quite good.”
“Oh, yeah, mom and I had a batch while you were working. It’s okay, I guess.” Hana shrugged as she joined her moms at the couch, glancing at Pharah from the corner of her eyes. “You didn’t actually get hurt, right?”
Fareeha gave a small smile at her daughter’s concern. “Pffft. Who do you think I am? This is nothing.”
“Okay, good.” Hana nodded, her worries put to rest as she heading back to her room, a quiet ‘ get rekt ’ whispered under her breath as she went.
“She’s such a good kid.” Angela fawned, the both of them smiling as Hana left. “And you’re such a good parent.” The statement was added with an extra kiss on the neck, Fareeha blushing as her wife slowly slid onto the couch alongside her. “It’s important to share body heat, especially when it’s cold.” Fareeha chuckled at the lame excuse, wrapping her arms around her wife as she did the same, the pair holding each other close as the smell of hot chocolate and familiar memories coaxed them both to sleep. Hana found them hours later, snoring loudly. Angela had accidently knocked the pot off the coffee table in her sleep. It was a mess.