Archive of Our Own

Maya had never seen her neighbour.

She knew she liked to cook.

She knew this because most nights after 8pm she'd hear the clatter of pans and cupboards being opened and shut with considerably more enthusiasm than necessary.

She knew her neighbour listened to music while she cooked, too. Not always the same kind. Sometimes it was soft and old-fashioned, the sort of music that made Maya picture someone standing barefoot in a kitchen with a glass of wine. Other times it was loud enough that Maya could feel the bass through the wall. And most of the time it wasn't in a language she could understand.

She also knew that her neighbour had a phone voice.

It was different from her normal voice, although Maya had never actually heard her normal voice. She had only ever heard the phone one: rapid, sometimes in another language, rising and falling through sentences Maya couldn't understand. Occasionally, it was punctuated by an emphatic ‘no’ or an indignant burst of something that sounded like an argument.

Maya didn't mind.

She noticed it. That was all.

The building was old, the walls were thin, and everyone came with their own collection of noises. The man upstairs dragged his dining chairs across the floor. Someone on the fourth floor had a dog that barked at exactly eight in the morning. Maya's neighbour cooked as though she had a personal vendetta against silence.

It was, in its own way, comforting.

Tonight, there was music.

Pots.

A cupboard slamming.

Then a muffled, rapid stream of a language she couldn't quite place.

Maya yawned, and continued meticulously brushing her teeth. She'd just got back from a forty-eight hour shift and her own bed was calling her.

The first few days after the noisy neighbour had moved in, Maya had struggled. It was a change from Mrs. Lennox who didn't make a peep once in the six years Maya had lived next door to her. But she soon got used to the woman. And after a long couple of days at work, Maya knew she'd have no trouble falling asleep, noisy neighbour or not.

She clicked off her toothbrush, placed it back on its stand, swilled her mouth out with water, and reached for her floss.

A cupboard slammed particularly loudly making her jump just a little.

The talking stopped, Maya raised a brow, usually it would last for at least the next hour.

Unbothered, she leaned in and started flossing, lacing it through her teeth as she did every morning and night for most of her-

knock, knock, knock

Maya froze, floss pinched between her teeth.

Was that her door?

She glanced at her watch, 9:15.

She waited, wondering if the knock was for one of her neighbours.

knock, knock, knock

No, it was definitely her door. She yanked the floss from between her teeth, snagged a t-shirt from her laundry hamper, and rushed to the front door.

At the door Maya paused, she'd spent enough time living alone to know you should try and establish who was at your door before you opened it. Raising up onto her tip-toes, she carefully looked through the peephole on the door.

A frown immediately creased her brow.

On the other side of the door was a woman Maya had never seen before. She had brown hair and was wearing a pair of sweats.

Maya wasn't sure what possessed her to do it; she definitely didn't know the woman, but her hand immediately turned the lock, the other pulling the door open.

The woman on the other side of the door looked surprised. Maybe she hadn't been expecting someone to answer. She just blinked at Maya, looking almost dazed.

"Uhm-" Maya spoke first, "hi?"

Maya let her eyes scan up and down the stranger on her doorstep.

For one strange second, Maya thought she somehow knew her.

Not because she recognised her face, she didn't, Maya was sure she'd never actually seen the woman before.

But there were things you could recognise without ever having met someone. The specific music drifting from an open door down the hallway. The cadence of a simple “hi”. The familiarity of a voice carried through thin walls when night fell.

And that voice, Maya knew that voice.

How could she not?

Maya looked at her.

The woman looked at Maya.

She was pretty.

That was Maya's first useful thought.

Her second was that she had never seen her before.

Her third was that she was holding a jar.

"Hi," Maya said again.

The woman glanced down at the large jar in her hands, then back up at her.

"Would you mind helping me?"

Maya frowned further.

"With...?"

"The jar,” her neighbour held it up.

It seemed to be a jar of something tomato-y. In the summer, when it was hot, Maya would open the windows, and if the wind caught it just right she could sometimes smell her neighbours’ cooking. Ever since her noisy neighbour moved in, she could usually smell pasta sauce, so Maya imagined this jar was to help her make that delicious smelling sauce that wafted wherever the wind took it.

“I've tried to open it, but I just can't do it. So I thought-” the woman trailed off.

Maya stared at her for half a second.

Then, despite herself, she laughed.

"Sure."

The woman smiled and held it out.

"I'm Carina by the way. I live next-door," she pointed to the open doorway to the left of her.

"I know," Maya said, and immediately regretted it. "I don't mean that in a creepy way I just mean- well I don't know exactly what I mean, but I do know that-" she paused and sighed. "I think I meant that I guessed you lived next-door."

Carina smiled. "Well, it was adorable."

Maya blushed, and took the jar, twisting the lid off with an easy 'pop'.

"Madonna, how did you do that? I've been trying for twenty minutes."

Maya chuckled, "you probably loosened it. Here," she made sure the lid was secure and handed it back.

"Thanks."

"No problem," Maya said awkwardly, "uhm... I hope you enjoy whatever it is you're cooking tonight with your Italian music."

"You can hear that?" Carina's eyes went wide.

"The walls aren't exactly thick."

"You should have knocked and told me!"

"I don't mind it. I... like it actually. But not in a weird way in a- I don't even know what I'm saying. It's fine. I like it. I didn't need to knock.”

Carina chuckled, "I'll turn it down a little."

"You really don't have to."

"No, but if you can hear it, then Mr Lamorne can hear it and he's..."

"Terrifying," Maya practically gulped.

Mr Lamorne lived at number 9, on the other side of Carina’s apartment, and a grumpier man there was not. Supposedly he'd lived in the building for years, despite loudly complaining to anyone in his vicinity that it was an awful building and should be demolished. He wasn't the kind of neighbour you wanted to get on the wrong side of, a fact Maya had learned the day she moved in all bright-eyed and starstruck about owning her own apartment. He'd immediately knocked her down a peg or two by sticking a note written in sharpie on her door telling her that she couldn't leave trash in the hallway; whilst she was actively throwing trash in the trash shoot. She couldn’t imagine what it was like living next to him. She didn't envy Carina at all.

"Sì, so I will turn it down and say thank you once again," Carina said, holding the jar up as she stepped back from the door.

"No problem," Maya smiled, reaching for the door handle.

"Wait!" Carina called, a few steps down the hallway, clamping her hand over her mouth when she realised how loud she'd just shouted.

Maya chuckled. "Yeah?"

"You didn't tell me your name."

"Maya, I'm Maya."

"Maya, it was nice to meet you, thank you for letting me borrow your muscles," Carina said, dipping her head in thanks, one hand resting on her front door.

"No worries," Maya said, retreating back into her apartment, where she could still hear the Italian music, chuckling when less than a minute later it reduced in volume.

She shook her head, pulled out a new length of floss, and continued as if nothing had happened.

Maya’s arms were burning.

She glanced at the stopwatch in front of her, drawing her core in tighter when she realised she had less than thirty seconds to go.

She liked to test herself every once in a while and see if she could still hold a perfect four minute plank, which had been her average time back when she was running and competing.

These days, she usually stuck to three.

There was something satisfying about the burn, the steady ache in her shoulders, the tension through her stomach, the rhythmic focus of holding perfectly still. She liked the simplicity of it. No thinking. No distractions. Just her body, the clock and the quiet thud of her heartbeat in her ears.

As the timer went off, she turned starting the first of her side planks, exhaling as she felt a different combination of her ab muscles pulling taught.

She closed her eyes, finding her peace, holding her composure.

crash

Maya jolted.

Her hips gave a dangerous wobble, and she found herself fighting to keep her body taught and upright.

"What the-"

She turned out of the side planks and back into a normal one, looking around the room.

Another crash followed.

She turned her head towards the back wall.

Maya sighed.

Of course.

Carina.

She chuckled and moved back into her side plank, counting down the seconds until the lilting Italian music started.

Sure enough, as she turned onto her right side, she heard the beep of Carina’s phone connecting to the speaker.

Five seconds after that, the music started.

Maya smiled and pushed on, focused once more on her workout.

She made it through the rest of the plank without interruption, Carina’s music now the soundtrack to her workout.

From there, she moved through the rest of her routine almost automatically. Push-ups, squats, another round of core work. The familiar ache spreading through her muscles was exactly what she'd been looking for when she'd rolled out her mat, after a day of meetings and budget reports.

By the time she reached her final set, sweat had gathered at her temples and along her collarbones. Her arms were trembling pleasantly with exertion and she felt satisfied in a way nothing else ever made her feel.

Ten more reps.

She held her balance in the v-position.

Nine.

Eight.

Maya gritted her teeth and pushed through the last few repetitions.

Three.

Two.

One.

She dropped onto the mat, breathing hard as she regained her breath.

She smiled, bathing in the delicious ache coursing through her body.

Nothing could beat this feeling.

She reached for her towel.

Knock. Knock.

Maya froze.

She looked towards the door.

Another knock.

"Coming."

She wiped her face with the towel and grabbed her water bottle, gulping some down, as she pushed herself to stand. Whoever it was could wait the thirty seconds it took her to catch her breath.

She crossed the apartment and opened the door.

"Carina, hey."

Maya watched her neighbour open her mouth and then immediately close it.

Carina just stood there.

Maya waited.

She could feel the heat of her workout still clinging to her skin, a thin sheen of sweat across her stomach and chest, her breathing only just beginning to settle. She pushed a damp strand of hair away from her forehead, and waited for Carina to say something.

Nothing.

Carina's eyes flicked over Maya's face before dropping briefly, then returning to meet her eyes..

Maya glanced down at herself.

Right.

Sports bra. Shorts. Sweat everywhere.

She probably looked a mess.

"Sorry," Maya said immediately, "I just finished working out."

Carina blinked.

"Yes."

Maya frowned slightly.

"Yes?"

"I mean- no.” Carina cleared her throat. “It's fine.”

Maya waited. Her neighbour hadn't been like this last time.

“The yes was because I could- uhm- I can tell that you- yeah." She waved her hand about, hoping it would help get the point across.

"Okay."

Maya smiled faintly.

Carina looked back at her.

And continued to look at her.

Maya wondered if she'd forgotten why she'd come.

"Did you… need something?"

"Jar."

Maya looked down, sure enough there was a jar of roasted peppers in her hands.

"Oh," she laughed softly. “Another stubborn one?"

"Mmm-hmm," Carina nodded, though still looking slightly dazed to Maya.

"Give it here, we'll have that sucker open in no time."

Maya held out her hand.

Carina placed the jar in it.

Her fingers brushed Maya's for the briefest moment.

Carina seemed to notice, pulling her hand back quickly.

Maya didn't, her attention focused on the jar.

She tightened her grip around the cool glass and twisted.

The lid popped open almost immediately.

Maya held it back out.

Carina stared down at the open jar as though she'd only just remembered why she'd brought it.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

Carina nodded.

She seemed about to say something else, but whatever it was disappeared before it reached her lips.

"Okay. Well..." She gestured vaguely with the jar. "Thank you."

Maya smiled.

"Anytime."

That seemed to make Carina pause again.

Then she gave Maya a quick smile and turned away, heading back towards her apartment.

Maya watched her go with a small frown.

Weird.

She couldn't quite put her finger on what had been strange about that interaction, but Carina had definitely seemed... distracted.

Maya shrugged it off and closed the door.

The apartment suddenly felt much warmer than it had a moment ago.

She dropped the towel onto the back of the sofa and stretched her arms above her head, feeling the pleasant ache settle through her shoulders and stomach.

Her workout had left her muscles pleasantly exhausted, but the sweat was beginning to feel uncomfortable against her skin.

Shower.

Definitely shower.

Maya hooked her fingers beneath the hem of her sports bra and pulled it over her head as she headed towards the bathroom.

She heard the blender start next door.

Maya glanced towards the wall.

Then shrugged.

Whatever that had been about, she was too tired to figure it out.

She needed a shower.

Maya had had a ridiculously busy shift. A house fire, followed by a paediatric arrest, followed by a gruelling four alarm fire that seemed to go on forever.

She couldn't remember the last time she'd stood still, let alone sat down.

By the time she finally clocked out, her entire body felt heavy. Her shoulders ached beneath the weight of her turnout gear, her throat was dry and scratchy from smoke, and there was a dull throb sitting behind her eyes that she knew was going to turn into a headache if she didn't get some sleep soon.

She had never been so relieved to see her apartment building.

The thought of her own bed and a hot shower pulled her from the driver's seat and up the stairs almost on autopilot. She'd been awake for over thirty-six hours, and at this point she was fairly certain she could sleep standing up.

She rounded the corner towards her apartment, already fishing through her bag for her keys.

Where had she put them?

She stopped in the hallway and frowned at the contents of her bag.

She'd had them when she'd left yesterday.

Or the day before.

Honestly, she wasn't sure what day it was anymore.

Maya dipped her hand into the front pocket for the third time, moving past a handful of loose change, an old receipt, and a pair of earbuds she hadn't remembered putting there.

Then her fingers closed around something cold and familiar.

"Thank God."

Maya pulled the keys free, letting them fall into her palm as she continued down the corridor. She was already imagining the moment she could lock the door behind her, drop her bag and collapse onto her bed and not move for a while.

She rounded the corner towards her apartment, her eyes still fixed on the keys as she tried to work out which one she needed.

She took another step.

And nearly walked straight into someone.

Maya jerked to a stop.

"Jesus-"

The figure in front of her turned at the sound.

"Oh."

The tension that had shot through her shoulders disappeared almost as quickly as it had arrived.

"It's you."

Carina smiled.

"Hi."

Maya let out a tired breath, shifting her bag higher on her shoulder.

"Hey."

She glanced towards her apartment.

Then at Carina.

Then at the jar in Carina's hand.

A tired smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.

"Hey. You got a jar for me?"

Carina raised a brow. "Are you telling me I'm that predictable?"

"Well, is there a jar?"

Carina bit her lip, trying not to smile, and then held up the jar in her hand.

Maya stared at it.

The sight of it almost made her laugh.

"You really need to stop buying jars that are impossible to open."

Carina smiled.

"I am beginning to think the jars are conspiring against me."

Maya gave a tired chuckle.

Then Carina's expression changed.

Her eyes moved over Maya properly for the first time.

Maya knew she probably looked awful. Her hair was a mess from being stuck under a helmet all day, her uniform was wrinkled, and there was probably still soot caught somewhere along her hairline. She could feel the exhaustion in every line of her body.

Carina's smile faded.

"But don't worry about it," she said softly. "You look like you've had a very long day. You don't need me asking you to open a jar too."

She turned, heading back towards her apartment.

"Carina, wait."

Maya reached for the jar.

Carina hesitated.

"You don't have to."

"I know." Maya gave her a small smile. "But I've spent the last…” Maya shook her head, “however many days helping people, so what's one more?"

She took the jar from Carina and twisted.

Nothing.

Maya frowned and tried again, shifting her grip and putting a little more strength behind it.

Still nothing.

"Oh this is a stubborn one.”

She adjusted her hands and gave it another attempt.

The lid didn't so much as move.

"Okay."

Maya nodded to herself.

"Time for the big guns."

She handed Carina her bag and keys before taking the jar to the small side table tucked between their two doors. She tapped the edge of the lid against the edge of the table once, then twice, before wrapping both hands around the lid.

"Come on."

She twisted.

The seal finally gave with a sharp pop.

Maya grinned.

"There we go!"

"Grazie!" Carina beamed.

"You're welcome," Maya said, taking her keys and bag back. She glanced towards the jar, then towards Carina's open apartment door.

Rich tomato, garlic, and something warm and herby drifted towards her, making her stomach give a small, traitorous rumble.

Maya's eyebrows lifted.

"Okay, whatever you're making smells ridiculously good."

Carina smiled.

"It's pasta alla Norma."

"Pasta alla Norma?" Maya repeated, looking again at Carina’s apartment as though she could somehow see the food from where she stood. "I've never had it, but that smells incredible.”

Carina's smile widened.

"It is very good."

Maya chuckled.

"I can tell."

She shifted her bag higher onto her shoulder, suddenly remembering how badly she wanted a shower and a bed.

"Enjoy your dinner, Carina."

"Thank you. And thank you for the jar."

"My pleasure."

Maya smiled and finally disappeared into the comfort of her apartment.

Maya stood there for a moment, hand still resting on the handle.

She was exhausted.

Not the kind of tired that could be fixed with a good night's sleep, or a good coffee, but the bone-deep exhaustion that made every movement feel like an effort. Her bag slipped from her shoulder and landed somewhere near the door with a dull thud.

She didn't bother picking it up.

Her keys followed, dropped onto the small table beside the door.

Maya kicked off her shoes and looked down at herself.

Shower.

Definitely shower first.

Then bed.

Maybe food.

As she walked through the apartment, fingers tiredly undoing buttons, she realised she could hear Carina’s music through the wall.

Maya smiled despite herself.

It was almost comforting to hear. A reminder that the world was still turning as it should be despite the unimaginable pain she'd experienced over the last day.

The music was soft tonight, drifting through the wall in the familiar way she'd become accustomed to. A woman's voice singing in Italian, the words indistinct through the plaster.

Maya paused for half a second, listening.

Then, just as suddenly as it usually started, the music stopped.

She frowned, waiting for a different song to start up, but after a minute she realised Carina had, for whatever reason, paused her music.

"Okay."

Why had Carina paused it?

It was far too early for her to do that.

It wasn't as if someone hadn't called her, she couldn't hear the loud phone voice that she sometimes used.

Maya shook her head, too tired to think any more about it.

She stripped out of her uniform piece by piece, leaving everything in a heap beside the laundry basket with the vague intention of dealing with it tomorrow.

She turned on the shower and waited until the water ran hot before stepping underneath it.

The first hit of heat made her close her eyes.

Maya exhaled slowly.

There it was.

The tension she'd been carrying since yesterday seemed to loosen all at once, leaving her shoulders heavy and her muscles aching beneath the water.

She stood there longer than she should have.

Much longer.

Eventually, she forced herself to reach for the shampoo.

By the time she stepped out, steam had fogged the bathroom mirror completely.

She dragged a towel through her hair and wrapped another around herself before leaving the bathroom.

Clean.

Warm.

Finally feeling half human again.

Maya glanced towards her bed.

That was all she wanted.

She was halfway there when her stomach gave a loud, unmistakable growl.

Maya stopped.

She looked down at herself.

It rumbled again, louder this time.

"Really?"

Her stomach growled again.

She sighed.

"Fine."

She supposed she should eat something considering she had absolutely no idea when the last time she ate was.

Food first.

She turned towards the kitchen.

Then bed.

Her hand had just closed around the handle on the fridge when she thought she heard it.

A knock.

So gentle and quiet that if the apartment hadn't been dead silent she would have missed it.

She paused, listening again. Sure enough there was another, arguably quieter knock.

She glanced at the time on the microwave: 9:21.

Surely nobody was knocking on her door at this time. She'd already opened the jar for Carina and the woman didn't seem to be cooking since there was no music playing and no pans clattering.

Still, her feet carried her over to the door. She stood on tiptoe to look through the peephole frowning when she saw nothing but the empty hallway.

Without thinking, her hand went for the handle and she pulled it open. Only realising due to the rush of cold from the hallway that she was still only wearing a towel. She gripped it tightly to herself and looked around. There was nobody there.

Maya huffed.

There was no way she'd imagined the knock.

She stepped forward, leaning out into the hallway, when her foot kicked something.

Her frown deepened.

There was a square tupperware sat on her door mat.

"What the-" still holding onto her towel so she didn't flash the whole empty hallway, Maya crouched down. On top of the tub there was a note.

Maya thumbed the note in her hand as she stared at the tub full of food.

Then at the empty hallway.

"Carina?"

No answer.

She looked down at the note again.

A tired smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.

How had Carina known?

She picked up the container, glanced in the hallway once more, and headed back into her apartment.

She didn’t wait to get into the kitchen to open it, the smell that had filled the hallway earlier, hitting her full in the face as she removed the lid.

It looked as incredible as it smelled, even in the tupperwear, Carina seemed to have arranged it like a Michelin star chef at a gourmet restaurant would. All neat with a leaf of fresh basil perched on top of the pasta and six rounds of eggplant neatly laid on one side.

Maya yanked open her cutlery drawer and pulled out a fork, unable to wait any longer. She stabbed it into a piece of sauce coated pasta and took a bite.

The sound that pulled from her lips was decidedly embarrassing, and she was suddenly very glad she lived alone.

It was heavenly, she sank onto the sofa as she ate, wondering how Carina could make such a simple dish so unbelievably delicious.

She hadn't realised just how hungry she was until there was nothing left.

Maya stared down at the empty container, dragging her fork through the last traces of sauce before finally accepting there wasn't another bite hiding at the bottom.

She sat back against the sofa and let out a long breath.

"Wow."

She looked down at the container again.

She had eaten the entire thing.

Not slowly. Not politely. She'd practically inhaled it.

Maya smiled to herself.

Carina could cook.

It always smelled incredible, but tasting it had confirmed that her neighbour must secretly be a chef. Nobody made something that good casually.

She forced herself off the sofa and carried the empty container into the kitchen. It would have been easy enough to leave it on the counter and deal with it in the morning, but something about not returning it immediately didn't sit right with her. And returning it dirty felt beyond wrong.

She turned on the tap and washed it carefully, making sure there wasn't a trace of sauce left clinging to the sides.

Once it was clean, she dried it with a tea towel and set it on the counter.

Maya looked at it.

Then at the door.

Then back at the container.

She couldn't exactly knock on Carina's door at ten-thirty at night just to return an empty tub.

Besides, Carina had gone to the trouble of bringing it over without disturbing her. The least Maya could do was give her the same courtesy.

She found a small piece of paper and a pen.

For a moment, she just stared at the blank page.

What did you even write to someone who had left you dinner on your doorstep?

Thank you seemed inadequate.

She wrote it anyway.

Then, after a second's thought, added:

It was incredible. It tasted even better than it smelled.

Maya hesitated before adding one final line.

I really needed it.

She looked at the words for a moment before folding the paper in half.

That was honest enough.

She placed the note on top of the clean container, carried both to the door and opened it.

The hallway was still quiet.

Carina's apartment was dark, no light streaming from under the front door like the other day.

Maya stepped outside, walked the few feet down the hall, and placed the container carefully on Carina's doormat.

She straightened.

For some reason, she found herself smiling.

"Thank you, Carina," she whispered, even though there was no one there to hear it.

She turned back towards her own apartment.

At least she'd eaten.

Now, finally, she could sleep.

Maya closed her door behind her and headed for bed, her stomach full of the most delicious meal she'd ever eaten.

"Of course there's not someone," Maya said, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of her beer, "I'd tell you if there was someone."

Vic raised an eyebrow over the rim of her bottle

"But you haven't had a self-care Wednesday in weeks," she pointed out.

Maya gave a non-committal shrug, sinking further into the sofa. "I haven't needed it."

"Because there's someone?" Andy chimed in.

Maya gave her a flat look, reaching for a chip from the half-empty bowl on the coffee table.

"No, because I haven't needed to have casual sex in a while."

Vic paused with her beer halfway to her mouth.

Then her eyes widened.

"Ohhhh."

Maya immediately frowned.

"What?"

Vic nodded slowly, as though she'd just solved a particularly complicated case.

"I get it."

"You get what?"

"You've gone through every nurse, doctor, firefighter, and paramedic available to you at Joe's.”

Maya’s eyebrows shot upwards.

Vic continued completely unfazed. “So you're having to let it rejuvenate.”

Andy snorted into her drink.

“Fresh blood,” Vic added, gesturing to Maya. “New bodies."

Maya stared at her.

"I'm not an animal, Vic."

"You should try police officers,” Andy suggested, grabbing a handful of chips, as Maya groaned. “Ryan was always good in-"

"You dated Ryan before he was a cop,” Maya cut in, pointing at her with her bottle. “You have nothing to compare it to.”

“Come on, that’s not fair,” Andy looked over at Vic.

“She’s kind of right, you know,” Vic shrugged.

“Plus,” Maya continued, “police officers are messy."

"And doctors, firefighters, and paramedics aren't?" There was an indignant air to Andy’s voice.

Maya smirked. "I didn't say that."

"You implied it."

Maya rolled her eyes and took another drink, hoping that would be enough to end the conversation.

It wasn't.

Vic leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees.

"So, was I right?"

Maya sighed.

"About what?"

"Is it because you've slept with half of Joe's?"

Maya was beginning to regret inviting her friends over. Why did they always have to jump to conclusions?

"No, it's because-"

Maya was cut off by a knock on the door.

"Food's here!" Vic bounced onto her feet, heading for the door.

Maya heard the door open.

"Hi- oh, you're not the delivery driver."

Maya closed her eyes.

She knew exactly who was standing there.

"No, I am not. You're not Maya though, either. So I'll just-"

"Carina, wait."

Maya was already on her feet.

She crossed the apartment and appeared in the doorway just as Carina turned away.

Carina stopped.

For a second, neither of them spoke.

Then Carina's eyes flicked past Maya into the apartment.

Vic was standing in the doorway, beer in hand.

Andy was watching from the sofa.

Maya watched the realisation spread across Carina's face.

"Oh," Carina said quietly, "sorry."

"No," Maya stepped into the hallway, pulling the door closed behind her. "No need to say sorry."

"I'm clearly interrupting."

"It's just Vic and Andy," Maya waved it off. "Where's the jar?"

"It's fine," she made to leave.

"You're telling me there isn't a jar?" Maya raised an eyebrow at her.

"I-" Carina bit her lip.

"Give me the jar, Carina," Maya chuckled, holding her hand out.

Carina hesitated for half a second before reaching behind her back and producing a jar of sundried tomatoes.

Maya took it with a grin.

"I'm sorry about Vic."

Carina shook her head immediately.

"No, I am sorry. I didn't know you had friends over."

"You don't need to apologise for bringing me a jar."

Maya twisted the lid.

It popped open almost immediately.

She held it up triumphantly.

Carina looked down at it.

"Thank you."

"Of course." Maya shifted her weight, then added casually, "I'll always open a jar for you."

Carina's eyes flicked up to hers.

Maya looked back at her, noticing the almost melted-chocolate hue of Carina’s eyes.

“And thanks again," Maya added, when the silence had stretched on for just a little too long.

Carina frowned slightly. "For what?"

"The food."

"Oh."

Something in Carina’s expression softened.

"No problem."

Maya smiled, she still couldn’t quite believe that Carina had done something like that for her. They barely knew each other and yet, Carina had gone out of her way to bring her a hot meal. "It was really good."

Carina smiled, "I'm glad."

Carina's eyebrows lifted, a small laugh escaping her.

"The whole thing?"

Maya nodded.

"Every last bit. I practically scraped the tupperware out. It was delicious. And-" Maya hesitated, biting her lip for a moment. “I really needed it.”

Carina seemed to soften again, her hand reaching to take Maya’s for a brief moment. "Good."

Maya felt a ripple of goosebumps travel up her arm.

"I mean, I was starving-"

"I guessed you might be."

Maya smiled.

“But it meant a lot. So, thank you, again.”

For a moment, neither of them said anything.

Maya could hear the faint sounds of her friends moving around inside the apartment behind her, but neither she nor Carina seemed particularly eager to move.

Eventually, Carina glanced towards Maya's apartment.

"I really should let you get back to your friends."

Maya looked over her shoulder.

"Yeah."

She turned back.

Neither of them moved.

Then Maya cleared her throat.

"Again, I'm sorry about Vic."

Carina's mouth curved into an amused smile.

"She is... very direct."

"That's one word for it."

The brunette laughed softly.

"I did not mean to interrupt."

"You didn't."

Carina looked at her.

Maya smiled.

"You didn't. I promise. You can always knock."

Another small silence settled between them.

Then footsteps sounded from the other end of the hallway.

Both women turned.

A man wearing a helmet and carrying an oversized bag of take out was walking towards them.

"Maya Bishop?"

Maya blinked.

"Yeah?”

The man held up the bag.

“Delivery.”

"Oh."

Maya took the bag from him.

"Thank you."

There was a somewhat awkward silence as he walked back around the corner.

Maya kept her eyes on her feet.

"Now I really am interrupting," Carina chuckled, "enjoy your food."

"You too. Enjoy your-"

Maya glanced at the jar.

"Whatever you're making."

"Sundried tomato and chicken risotto."

Maya's face immediately brightened.

"That sounds so good."

"It is."

"Enjoy, Carina."

"Thank you."

Maya smiled.

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Maya." Carina waved, retreating into her apartment as Maya did the same, immediately walking straight into Vic and Andy.

"Wow, guys, way to be subtle with your eavesdropping," she pushed past them, setting the bags of food on the kitchen counter.

"So, she's your why?"

"What?" Maya looked at Vic like she had two heads.

"She's your reason for a lack of self-care Wednesdays," Andy chimed in.

"Carina?" Maya pointed over her shoulder.

"If that's what the ridiculously hot woman who just knocked on your door is called, then yes."

"Carina's my neighbour. I open a jar for her on occasion. That's all-"

"You're a terrible liar, Maya. If we hadn't been over you'd have kissed her."

"And that stuff about the food and her knowing you were starving, why would that be... right… because you had sex with her," Andy added.

“Wow!” Maya’s eyes widened. “Way to jump to conclusions.”

“Come on, Maya.”

Maya spluttered. "What? You can't be serious. She's my neighbour. She brought me a tub of food because she made too much. You're reading into this when there's nothing to read into."

"Okay, fine, you haven't slept with her. But you like her," Andy insisted.

"She definitely likes you," Vic pointed out, "you should have seen the disappointment in her face when it wasn’t you who answered the door."

"Enough of this," Maya said, taking her meal and heading for the living room.

"That wasn't a no," Vic called after her, she turned to Andy, "that wasn't a no."

"It definitely wasn't," Andy smirked.

"Would you two shut it?"

"Definitely wasn't a no."

Maya pressed the heel of her hand against her stomach, waiting for the nausea to settle.

Another cough caught in her throat before she could stop it.

She bent forward, one arm wrapping around her middle as her stomach rolled violently beneath her palm. When it finally passed, she stayed there, breathing carefully through her mouth.

Her head was pounding.

She closed her eyes.

She felt awful.

It had started with a scratchy throat yesterday. She'd ignored it, assuming it was the lingering aftermath of too many hours around smoke and exhaustion. By this morning, she'd known better.

Now, her nose was blocked, her throat felt raw, her head was pounding, and every cough seemed determined to turn her stomach inside out.

Maya groaned softly and sank back against the sofa.

She hadn't been this sick in years.

She wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to do about it.

Sleep, probably.

Drink water.

Eat something maybe.

Those seemed like sensible things, but beyond that she was completely out of her depth. Maya was good at looking after other people. She knew what to do when someone was hurt, when someone couldn't breathe, when everything went wrong.

But dealing with a simple cold in her own body?

That was apparently too much for her.

She rubbed her stomach, trying to stop it from rolling now she was no longer coughing.

It did nothing.

"Great," she murmured, screwing her eyes up as the stabbing pain started behind her eyes again, "just great."

She felt her body getting heavier despite the pain, and didn't fight sleep when it gently tugged at her.

She blinked awake, disoriented.

For a few seconds, she couldn't remember where she was.

Then her head throbbed, her throat scratched painfully and her nose reminded her that breathing was apparently an optional luxury.

Her apartment.

On the sofa.

Sick.

Right.

A knock sounded.

Maybe that was what had woken her up?

Maya groaned.

She pushed herself upright, immediately regretting it when the movement sent a wave of dizziness through her head.

"Coming."

Her voice came out hoarse.

She rubbed at her eyes and hauled herself off the sofa, shuffling towards the door. She didn't bother checking the peephole. Whoever it was could only be one of two things: someone with very bad timing or—

She opened the door.

"Hi, Maya."

Carina.

Maya managed a weak smile.

"Hey."

She barely got the word out before her throat seized.

The cough came suddenly.

Maya turned away from Carina, folding over as her body tried to force the air from her lungs. One cough became two, then three, each one pulling painfully at her stomach.

She pressed a palm to her stomach.

It didn't help.

The coughing grew harsher, her stomach churning with every forceful cough, contracting and squeezing until a gag escaped her.

Maya squeezed her eyes shut.

Nothing came up.

Thank God.

She was vaguely aware of movement behind her.

A hand gathered her hair away from her face.

Another settled between her shoulder blades, rubbing slow circles across her back.

"Easy," Carina murmured.

Maya couldn't answer.

She just concentrated on breathing.

Eventually the coughing eased.

Maya stayed bent forward for another few seconds, waiting for her stomach to stop rolling unhappily beneath her palm.

She took a deep breath and slowly straightened up, wiping her eyes with her hand as she turned.

Carina was still standing behind her, one hand resting lightly against her back, her other holding Maya's hair away from her face.

Their eyes met.

Maya immediately flushed.

"Sorry."

Carina frowned.

"For what?"

"That."

Maya gestured vaguely towards herself.

"The coughing. The-" She swallowed. "That was disgusting."

"It was not disgusting."

"I almost threw up on you."

"You're sick."

"Still."

Carina gave her a small smile, dropping her hands.

"You're very sick."

"I wouldn't say very-" Maya started, her voice hoarse again. "Okay, yes, very sick is probably the right word."

Carina looked at her properly now.

Her face was pale, her eyes tired and glassy, her hair a mess from sleep.

"You should be in bed. Not answering the door."

"I was on the sofa."

"That is not a bed."

"It's close enough."

Carina shook her head.

"I answered, so what can I open for you today?"

"Right, yes," Carina held up a jar of honey, "ironic since your throat sounds like it needs a good spoonful of this."

Maya chuckled and took the jar, opening it for her with ease.

"There."

Carina stared at it for a moment.

Then at Maya.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

Maya rubbed at her nose and coughed a little.

"You should probably wash that before you use it."

Carina blinked.

"Why?"

"Because I'm sick."

Carina looked at the jar.

Then back at Maya.

"Can you wait two minutes?"

"For what?"

"Just-" Carina disappeared without another word, Maya still holding the jar of manuka honey.

She leaned heavily against the wall, pressing her free hand to her stomach.

She'd never had a cold so bad that she'd almost been sick. It was disgusting and embarrassing, particularly as she'd done it in front of Carina.

She closed her eyes, following the pain in her head as it shot from temple to temple.

"Maya?"

She startled, opening her eyes, finding Carina in front of her, one hand on her arm.

"Sorry."

"It's okay. You're not feeling well. Here," she took the jar from Maya and loaded a tea spoon with honey. "This will coat your throat."

Maya took the tea spoon from her and swallowed it, feeling immediate relief.

"This," she swapped the spoon for a travel mug, "has mint tea in it, for your tummy."

"My tummy," Maya repeated, clutching the warm mug.

"Sì, and this soup is better than any medicine," she held up a container of soup. "It's currently frozen, but it's probably a good idea to let your stomach settle. Then you can just heat it up in the microwave and enjoy."

"You made me soup?"

"It's leftover from the last time I was sick. It'll give you energy without it feeling too heavy."

"You brought me soup."

"I did."

"You didn't have to."

"I know," Carina gave her arm a gentle squeeze, "but I wanted to. Being sick is miserable."

Maya’s chest squeezed as she looked at the items in her hands.

"I'll bring it all back."

"You don't need to worry about that."

"I'll bring it back when I'm less-" she gestured towards herself. "Disgusting."

Carina rolled her eyes.

"You are not disgusting."

Maya smiled.

"Okay."

She looked down at the soup again.

"Thank you, Carina. Really."

Carina's expression softened.

"Get some rest."

"I will."

"And eat the soup."

"I will."

"And take some medicine."

"I will. Thank you."

"Knock if you need anything."

Maya nodded and retreated into her apartment with a final "thank you," letting Carina close the door.

She slid the soup onto the counter and took the mug with her, curling up as gentle music started playing next door.

She smiled, took a sip of her tea and let herself drift back to sleep, feeling so much better than when Carina had knocked on the door.

Maya had started to notice the silence.

At first, she'd assumed Carina was simply having a quiet few days.

Then she'd realised she hadn't heard her at all.

No Italian music drifting through the wall.

No cupboards opening and closing.

No pans clattering against the stove.

No rapid-fire Italian phone calls that Maya couldn't understand, but had somehow become accustomed to hearing.

Nothing.

And, of course, there were rational reasons for this; she could be working nights, she might have been away, Maya simply could have not heard the noise.

The last one was a little far-fetched.

It was stupid.

Carina was her neighbour. She was allowed to be quiet.

She didn't need to be constantly making noise.

Maya checked her watch, it was after 8pm, she should be able to hear her.

This was the fourth day in a row she couldn't hear her.

It had been two weeks since the last jar.

Which was fine-

"Nope." Maya rushed to the door without thinking twice.

Her hand hovered over Carina's door.

This was ridiculous.

She was being ridiculous.

She knocked anyway.

Once.

Twice.

The door opened almost immediately.

Carina stood there holding a bowl.

Maya's eyes dropped to it.

Tiramisu.

God that looked delicious.

"Hi."

"Hi."

Maya stared at her.

Carina stared back.

"Is everything okay, Maya?"

Maya blinked.

Carina was fine.

She was stood in front of her eating a bowl of tiramisu.

"I- uhm- I need help with… a jar."

"A jar?" Carina frowned.

"Uhm. Yeah."

"Okay, where is it?"

"Uhhh," Maya looked around, grasping at straws, "it's invisible."

Carina bit her lip. "An invisible jar?"

"Mmm-hmm. It's a stubborn one."

Carina's lips pressed together.

She was trying not to laugh.

Maya sighed.

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Ma-ya." Carina whined, tilting her head in question.

"Nothing," Maya said again, with what was supposed to be a casual shrug, though it came across more awkward than anything.

"You have knocked on my door because you need help with an invisible jar?"

Maya sighed again.

"You were quiet. I was- you were quiet."

"I was quiet?" Carina repeated slowly.

"Yes."

Maya immediately panicked. "I mean- not quiet. Obviously you're allowed to be quiet. I just-"

She looked at the bowl.

"Is that tiramisu?"

Carina glanced down, surprised by the sudden change in subject.

"Yes."

"Oh." Maya nodded. "Right."

A beat of silence.

"You were worried," Carina said softly.

Maya looked away.

"I just hadn't heard you."

"So you were worried."

"Maybe."

Carina smiled.

"I am fine."

Maya looked at her properly now, really taking her in. She did, indeed, look fine.

"You're sure?"

Carina smiled. "I'm sure."

Maya nodded, relief easing something in her chest.

"Okay."

Carina held the bowl out slightly.

"Do you want some?"

Maya blinked.

"Some what?"

"Tiramisu."

"Oh."

She looked at the bowl again.

"Are you inviting me in?"

"If you want."

Maya hesitated for only a second.

"Okay."

Carina stepped aside.

"Don't forget your invisible jar," she added with a smirk.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

Maya stared at her.

Carina stared back.

Neither of them moved.

Then Maya smiled.

"You know, you're very confident for someone who keeps needing me to open her jars."

"And yet, you keep opening them."

"I do."

Carina's smile softened.

"Come inside, Maya."

Maya stepped over the threshold.

Carina closed the door behind her.

For years, Maya had known Carina through the wall.

Through Italian music and loud phone calls. Through the clatter of pans and the smell of whatever she happened to be cooking that night. And, more recently, through stubborn jars and containers of food.

She'd known the sound of her before she'd ever known her face.

Now, for the first time, there was no wall between them. No threshold to step over.

Just tiramisu, a very stubborn invisible jar, and whatever came next.