Chapter Text
“Would you?” Emily timidly spoke into her device. Her phone settled on her shoulder, sandwiched by her ear and deltoid. She was preparing the kids lunch for the day, meal prepping their dinner for the night in the same measure.
“Of course, you know I'd do anything for them, Em.” Andrea happily replied. Happily neglecting to mention she’d do anything for her.
Too much, she decided. Andrea herself had just woken up.
She was brushing her teeth when Emily hurriedly explained her situation. Her ex-husband was unavailable and it was too short of notice for any babysitters. Andrea was happy to help. She planned out her day as the hesitant question was brought forth.
She’d head to work, get lunch with Nigel, get back to work, finish up for the day, pick up some pastries from the kids’ favorite bakery and some Emily friendly snacks. By the time she was out the door, she’d have everything for the evening and head over to pick them up from school.
“Thank you, really, Andrea.” Emily sighed, relief flooding her body.
“So…. a date?” Andrea hummed, determined not to make things weird. She pulled her oversized sleep shirt off her body, applying deodorant and clasping on her bra.
“Don’t make it into something it isn’t.” The redhead groaned, returning the plastic containers with freshly made charcuterie. She sorted in some tubed yoghurts in the lunch box, fitting in a little extra for their friends.
“How am I making it- oh come on, Emily this is huge. Really, when was the last time you went on a date?” Andrea laughed, pulling down her sleep shorts and pulling up her dress pants.
“It’s not that big of a deal.” Emily grumbled, fitting in their water bottles and fruit snacks for the day. She zipped Roark's Batman lunch bag, placing it gently beside his matching school bag.
“Emily, how long.” Andrea extradited, bending over to pick up her fallen reversible dior belt — kindly gifted to her by Emily. She pulled it through the loops, clipping it closed.
“This is humiliating.. It’s not even been that long… it's only been since Benji.” Emily mumbled, zipping closed Bronwyn's Supergirl lunch bag and placing it with equal care beside her daughter's bag.
“Honey, it’s about time.” Andrea laughed brightly. Again. The sound was getting past Emily's well structured defenses, her heart disloyally beating slightly harder than it had been a couple minutes ago. She shook her head, not bothering to question her body's instinctive reaction. Andrea buttoned up her tailored shirt, looking over her bed at the pieces she laid out. She stood at her bed carefully selecting whether she wanted to wear a sweater or a blazer over her dress shirt.
“Andy.” Emily warned, placing her kids’ shoes beside their respective luggages. Emily turned back around to the kitchen, covering the cottage pie she made for their dinner.
“Sorry, but I'm serious. You deserve this, Em. I’m proud of you for making this step.” The brunette praised, picking up the fitted sweater she decided to wear for the day.
Emily was suddenly eternally grateful to whatever God was out there that they weren't face time, it would've been utterly disgraceful if Andrea could see the flush of redness coating her cheeks.
“Well.. that’s.. Right, thanks.” The executive stuttered, making her way down the hall to wake her kids up.
“Am I staying over tonight, or are you coming home?” Andrea inquired softly, sitting down at her vanity. She picked her phone off her shoulder and placed it directly in front of the mirror.
“Andrea! Who do you think I am, of course i’ll be home tonight.” Emily blanched before knocking on both doors simultaneously. “Roark, Bronwyn! Time to get up!”
“Sorry for thinking you’d want something more out of the date.” Andrea giggled, shaping her eyebrows. Her body released tension she did not realize she was holding at the confirmation.
“It’s the first date.” Emily, at her kids’ confirmation of consciousness, returned to the kitchen flabbergasted.
“I’m aware, but we haven't talked about dating much. I don’t know how you rock, sure it's not my style but I'd never judge you.” The journalist reasoned, smiling softly as she curled her lashes.
“Well, now you know how I ‘rock’ Andrea.” Emily smiled freely, rolling her eyes at the American's choice of vocabulary.
“So, when do I get to see you — give me an estimate.” Andrea gambled, working her hands through her tousled hair.
“I’ll wrap it up before 9, I should be home by 10.” The executive informed, checking her watch. Roark made his way down the hall as Bronwyn entered the corresponding bathroom.
“Okay, can’t wait.” The brunette grinned, getting up from her seat and picking up her phone. She left her on-suite bedroom before entering her kitchen. She automatically moved to her coffee machine, fixing herself up a quick hit of caffeine.
“Is that Andy?” Roark, not so conspicuously, whispered.
“Yes, darling.” Emily replied, smoothing down the collar of his uniform before slipping his plate of pancakes to his seat.
“Awesome! Can I talk to her?” The young boy chirped, sitting up straighter from his seat — not before dousing his carbohydrates in maple syrup.
“Tell him, absolutely.” Andrea grinned, taking a sip of her coffee before opening up her own fridge.
Emily handed him the phone, returning to Bronwyn's plate. The girl liked Greek yoghurt with her pancakes. Emily plopped a spoonful on top of the dish before sprinkling on some chocolate flakes.
“Hi, Andy!” Roark gushed, ripping into his pancakes to prepare his first bite.
“Hi, sweetheart. How’d you sleep?” Andrea quizzed, pulling out her overnight oats. She sat down at her couch, resting her feet over her coffee table — thinking of how Emily would scold her for the action if she was there.
“Great! I had this dream and the dinosaurs from the museum came back to life and then they started attacking everything but I fought them off with you and mommy as back up!” The boy excitedly laid out, shoving a bite into his mouth.
“Darling, don’t talk and chew.” The blonde corrected, slipping Bronwyn's plate to her seat at the island. “Bronwyn!”
“Coming! Sorry!” The girl called out from her station in the bathroom.
“That sounds awesome buddy, I wish I had that cool of a dream.” Andrea laughed, taking a bite of her breakfast.
She was thoroughly grateful for Emily's call, she was painfully aware that she’d probably be scrambling to leave the flat in half an hour if she hadn't. Emily always had a way of waking her up, both metaphorically and physically.
“What did you dream about? Wait no, tell me later, you are coming later right?” He stumbled.
“Yes, I’ll pick you up at school, is that okay?”
“More than okay, Andy!”
“Andy?” Bronwyn blurted, speed walking down the hallway at the mention.
“We were getting worried there, almost thought something happened to you in that restroom.” Emily spoke dryly.
“I wasn't even that long.” The girl rolled her eyes. “I heard you say Andy, put her on speaker!”
Roark followed direction almost immediately.
“Hey Wynnie.” Andrea greeted, standing up from her spot and returning to the kitchen. She placed her mug of coffee into the sink, taking a final bite of her oats before washing up.
“Hi Andy! We miss you!” Bronwyn blared, sitting down at her seat.
“Miss you too, dearest. I’ll be over tonight.” The brunette assured, using a tea towel to dry the freshly cleaned dishes.
“Yay!” Bronwyn exclaimed, digging into her pancakes at the confirmation.
“Alright, it’s about time we let you go.” Emily interrupted, picking up her phone from the counter.
“Aww!” Roark pouted.
“Bye guys, see you later, okay?” Andrea consoled.
“Bye Andy!” The two synchronised, fighting immediately at the coincidence. Emily turned off the speaker, returning her phone to its place by her ear.
Andrea could hear the ‘jinx!’, ‘double jinx’, play out in the background as she slipped on her heels.
“I didn't mean to keep you so long, but to answer your previous question… You could stay over either way, if you’d like to. You know no one would mind.” Emily muttered, suddenly nervous.
“Of course, Em. Thank you.” Andrea grinned knowingly, it was a testament to their long lasting friendship that Emily had dared to speak that aloud. She felt her heart warm at the sentiment, deciding not to tease her for it.
“No worries, go to work.” The blonde concluded.
“Tell me all about it, Em. Have a great day, and date.” Andrea encouraged, moving to her room to pick up her already organised ‘go bag’ and turning off all the lights.
“I’ll see you later.”
“See you.” The journalist bit her lip at the goodbye, unlocking her front door and hanging up as she stepped out, ignoring the tight knot forming in her abdomen at the idea of Emily on a date with someone else.
It wasn't new to her. She knew she liked Emily, romantically. She recognised this fact half a year ago when Emily leaned over the dinner table to wipe off a splatter of sauce from the side of her mouth. She reconciled with the fact she was in deep, with the fact her heart didn’t seem to know the difference between Emily’s hand on the small of her back and a bear attacking her.
The journalist swallowed her feelings, preparing herself for the eventual moment when Emily comes home and tells her about the mystery man from her mystery date.
Emily wasn't particularly excited. She was simply ready; she touched up her makeup in Dior's restroom, double checking her appearance before leaving to meet her date at the agreed-upon restaurant — they had come to a compromise, location wise, he had originally suggested they go to the one restaurant she and Andrea usually frequented before Emily recommended they go to the new Italian cuisine instead. Emily quickly shut his idea down, not willing to give up their sacred spot to a man she had spoken to for (not even) half an hour at a Gala.
He wasn't bad-looking, nor did he seem all too petulant at the event. He had a full beard, shoulder length straight black hair tucked behind his ears. Terribly hard to find in men his age. He was not necessarily what she deemed to be her type, but it was worth a try. She entered the establishment and was immediately greeted by an over-eager hostess.
She found her date was already there when she was escorted to the table. He greeted her with an over-confident smile, hunching over to shake her hand before sitting back down. As if it was a business meeting.
The man hadn't bothered to pull back her chair, only meeting her with a loose handshake like she was just a corporate friend of his. The lack of action immediately raised a flag in her mind, sitting down only to finish what she had already — regrettably — started.
Andrea had never begun any of their dinners in such a manner, especially as of late — the dog-like journalist would, if they had not come in together, get up immediately for a hug that Emily still tensed at before pulling out her chair.
She would wait until she sat before sitting down subsequently, sheepishly admitting she’d been waiting for the weekly dinner since the last they had. Emily would then pretend that the admission did not just send an arrow right through her heart. The same way any one with Andrea as their friend probably would. It was normal, Lily probably felt the same. It was just female friendship.
He immediately started to talk about himself, not even prompted — he just did like he’d been impatiently waiting to do so for all the 15 seconds she’d spent entering the restaurant, sitting down, and greeting him. He prattled on about his own ‘accomplishments’ until the waitress came by to retrieve their orders.
The dark haired man ordered the gnocchi with a Sex on the Beach cocktail. Emily took the time to actually look down at the menu, deciding to bring Andrea home some of the leftovers. The brunette would probably want pasta, she always preferred complex carbohydrates late at night.
“And you, Miss?” The girl, likely in her early twenties, asked.
“Just the caesar salad, your Pinot Grigio, and your Creamy Garlic Chicken Fettuccine pasta in a to-go box later, please.” The blonde delivered smoothly.
“Of course, is that all?” The waitress double checked, picking up their menus.
“Yes, thank you.” She smiled with a practiced grace.
“A To Go box?” He noisily asked, crossing his arms.
“My kids would like some pasta tonight.” She lied. Well, it was not so much a lie. She portioned their dinners meticulously, but they probably would have liked some pasta. She did not know why she did not just say her best friend was currently over and she'd like some dinner.
“You have kids?” The man gaped, seemingly shocked that the 43 year old woman would have children.
“Yes, is that a problem?” Emily clipped.
“No, I just didn’t know. I’m sure they’d love me, when do I get to meet them?” The man vastly overestimated how well this date was going, inviting himself to meet her kids almost instantaneously.
Emily stopped herself from crinkling her nose in disgust, turned off entirely by his audacity. Not that anything about him lit a fire in her anyway. The blonde changed topics immediately, asking him about his own interests in attempt of speeding up time.
He was far too excitable, Emily noticed. And it was not in the way Andrea would get excited about different journalistic topics, or books, or exhibitions. But, in the way a selfish man does when he gets to talk more about himself without being expected to reciprocate immediately.
The Dior executive crossed him off the ‘potential boyfriend’ category, moving him to ‘just survive the date’. The date didn't run very long, Emily made sure of it.
It had felt like hours by the time she left, of course she knew it had not exceeded two hours — but it certainly felt like a decade had passed. She left with her overly expensive salad picked at, and her drink emptied. He paid, walking out with her.
“Can I take you home?” He smiled, turning his body to face her.
“No.” She rejected, fitting the to go box into her handbag before pulling out her phone — having already sent a message to her ride prior to paying.
“Oh- well, I had a great time. I’d love to do it again.” Emily watched as his eyebrows furrowed, the action not nearly as pretty as when Andrea did it. Emily shook the thought out of her mind, chalking it up to her thinking of the brunette because she was currently at home waiting.
“I wouldn't, if I'm honest. Thank you for the experience, but we won't be seeing each other again.” Emily clarified, turning her focus to the road as a familiar car stopped in front of them.
“What?-”
“Goodbye.” She finished, walking to the vehicle and entering without looking back at the man — who likely was now gaping at the reversing car.
Andrea straightened her posture at the tell tale shuffling of keys at the door. Emily was home early. It was only 8pm, she noted tapping on her phone. The kids were in their rooms, completing their homework before heading to bed. Andrea herself was on her laptop, working on her most recent draft as Emily entered the building.
“Hey, you’re home early.” Andrea announced, sitting up and picking her laptop off her lap to place it onto the table ahead of her.
“Have I disappointed you, Sachs?” Emily spoke sardonically, slipping off her heels with a sigh. She threw her keys into the ceramic bowl by the door before dropping her bag. She pulled out the brown takeout bag before turning the corner to meet Andrea in the living room.
“Never.” Andrea grinned.
“I brought you food, it’s still hot.” Emily dropped it on the table in front of the brunette, her bad mood practically emitting out of her in cartoonish lines.
“Oh, baby, come here.” Andrea cooed, opening her arms to motion for Emily to sit by her. The blonde's heart rate escalated majorly with the pet name. Andrea had grown quite happy to refer to her with such affection, much to Emily's dismay. Despite her initial reluctance, Emily slipped off her coat and cuddled into Andrea's side.
“What happened?” The journalist questioned, stroking the blonde's hair out of her face before sliding her arm around the girl's waist.
“He was an utter prick, not outwardly — but he spent the entire evening talking about himself, not once did he ask me anything.” Emily huffed, relaxing into Andrea's hold. “He, then, with a disgusting sense of pride, thought to mention that my kids would love to meet him. Andrea. I’ve known him for collectively 2hours and 15minutes.”
The brunette laughed through her nose, tracing patterns on her thigh distractedly — encouraging her to continue. Emily swallowed the butterflies, recounting the entire evening and expertly mocking his final words.
“‘I’d love to do it again.’ Yeah well I bloody wouldn’t, I’d rather wear last year’s spring collection to work on Monday than meet with him again.” Emily aggrieved.
“I take it didn't go well?” Andrea teased, internally relieved at the failure of a date. Guilt immediately manifested its way into her gut.
It wasn't that she didn't want to see Emily happy, she just didn't want her taken from her. Emily was clad against her side, head resting on her shoulder. This was happiness to Andrea, and if someone were to take it from her… she wasn't sure how she’d cope.
The blonde smacked at her shoulder before releasing an exhausted giggle. Andreas' face softens even further at the sound.
“Why are you still in your work clothes?” Emily asked, ripping her gaze from her face to take in the girls’ outfit.
“Didn’t want to change until I was done with the draft.” Andrea replied honestly. She’d only let herself get completely comfortable when it was out of the way, or until Emily had inevitably come home.
“Oh? So it wasn’t to garner my expert opinion of your seemingly thought out outfit?” Emily raised an eyebrow.
“No, but now that you mention it… what do you think?” Andrea rolled with the direction of conversation. Getting up to give Emily the full view before twirling.
“It’s…” Emily paused, mind hijacked by the sliver of toned stomach Andrea revealed. “Adequate.” She blinked, ears burning.
Andrea grinned, eyes glancing at her — definitely — red ears.
“High praise from you. I’ll get changed now though, come, you do the same. Let’s watch a movie and have some of this delicious food you brought me.” Andrea happily flashed a toothy smile, electing not to tease the currently emotionally volatile blonde.
“Let’s.” Emily hesitantly removed herself from the warmth of the couch before following Andrea down the hallway, stopping only to press her ear against her children's door — trying to listen in to see if they went to bed.
At the lack of noise, she retreated to her own room, glancing back at Andrea who evacuated to her own space (the guest bedroom).