Work Text:
By the time Gideon made it home, she was sure that her day could only get better. She’d woken up late, which had meant that she hadn’t had time to stop for coffee and had to make due with the sludge in the breakroom. The kids in her class pushed every button she had since it was the Friday before a long weekend and they were restless. And then it started pouring rain on her way home, despite the forecast that morning saying there'd be clear skies all day, and she’d taken her bike to work. Her helmet kept her hair and face dry, but her clothes were soaked by the time she parked in her building’s garage.
All she wanted was to change into dry clothes and curl up on her couch to watch some incredibly bad television.
But the greater forces of the universe weren’t letting her off that easily, as she approached the lobby elevator there was already a small figure clothed entirely in black waiting. Because of course fucking Harrowhark Nonagesimus had to make an appearance before her day from hell was over.
It was bad enough when Harrow had been introduced to her friend group by Palamedes, who for some unknown reason enjoyed her company, but then Gideon found out that they not only lived in the same building, but on the same floor. Seeing Harrow was a tragically regular occurrence during her day-to-day, but it always stung extra on a night like this.
“Griddle,” Harrow said, glaring up at Gideon when Gideon finally accepted her fate of having to approach as the elevator doors slid open. The elevators in their building were ungodly slow and she really didn’t want to wait for the next one.
“Hey night boss,” Gideon said, stifling a sigh. “Going up?”
“Obviously,” Harrow rolled her eyes, following Gideon into the elevator. “You look awful,” she added as the doors closed.
“Thanks,” Gideon said, forcing a sarcastically pleasant tone, “it’s always so nice talking to you.”
“I just mean you seem like you had a rough commute,” Harrow said, eyeing the way Gideon’s wet clothes were clinging to her. “And you look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
“I had a long day, that’s all,” Gideon could hear the annoyance in her own voice, but Harrow just shrugged and let it go.
As the elevator made its slow ascent, now silent except for the noise of the machinery, Gideon studied Harrow from the corner of her eye. She looked the same as always, unfairly attractive for someone Gideon couldn’t stand. All sharp edges, draped exclusively in black, her short dark hair pulled into a ponytail that was showing the wear of the day with its disheveled frizziness, and that stupid gigantic cross necklace that she always wore catching the dim light.
Okay, the necklace wasn’t actually abnormally large. Harrow was just fucking tiny and the silver glint of the thing always caught Gideon’s attention because it was a reminder of exactly why she couldn’t slip up and be nice to Harrow, now matter how cute Harrow might be. And that was because Gideon had always taken that necklace as confirmation of her suspicions that Harrow was a total homophobe.
“Stop looking at me,” Harrow suddenly snapped, pulling Gideon back to the present moment.
“I was just wondering how you manage to wear that necklace every day. What with the whole not having a soul thing.” Gideon said with a shrug, “Shouldn’t your skin burn where it touches you?”
Harrow was turning a fascinating shade of red, but before she could reply the elevator shuddered to a halt and the lights went out.
Suddenly Gideon’s lungs seemed to forget how to work. She’d never been great in tight spaces, and the prospect of being trapped indefinitely was making her lose her shit a little. Basking up against the wall, she slid down it and pulled her knees close to her chest while she tried to get herself to breath.
Gideon could hear Harrow using the call button, explaining the situation to the fuzzy voice on the other end, but she couldn’t seem to focus on it, the sounds swimming in and out of focus as her head spun.
“Are you okay?” Harrow’s voice sounded farther away than should be possible in the enclosed space.
“We’re trapped in an elevator,” Gideon could hear how shrill her own voice sounded.
“The storm knocked the power out, the man on the emergency line said it’ll probably be back in less than an hour.” Harrow’s voice was low and her tone was reassuring, but it wasn’t enough to calm Gideon’s brain down. “We aren’t in any danger.”
Gideon couldn’t manage to form a response to that, she wasn’t sure she was even breathing at all anymore.
“I think you’re having a panic attack,” Harrow crouched down so that she was sitting next to Gideon.
“You don’t say,” Gideon gritted out.
“Is there anything I can do to help?” Harrow’s voice was uncharacteristically soft.
“Could you- uh, could you hold my hand?” Fuck, that sounded pathetic, but physical touch was one of the few things that always worked to ground Gideon. “I promise I don’t have the gay cooties,” Gideon saw Harrow’s brow furrow, but she plowed ahead, “I’m just a real physical touch kinda bitch, you know?”
“Alright,” Harrow said, clearly confused, but she scooted closer to Gideon and her small hand threaded through Gideon’s own. It was surprisingly warm. “Take some deep breaths,” Harrow squeezed Gideon’s hand a bit as Gideon worked to even out her breathing.
After they’d sat in silence for what felt like forever, Harrow asked, “Do you want to hear something weird that happened at work today?”
“Sure,” Gideon said, desperate for a distraction and curious about what could possibly happen at a college library that could possibly count as weird.
“There’s this professor who’s retiring and he was cleaning out his office and wanted to donate some books to the library. Hundreds of books. I’ve seen the size of most offices on campus and I have no idea how he had so many. So he had a couple graduate assistants help him box everything up and he dropped them all off today. I had to go through them to sort out what we might actually want to keep and you’ll never guess what I found.”
“Some really boring books?” Gideon said, positive that this was the dullest story she’d ever heard, but she shouldn’t have expected much else from Harrow.
“I wish,” Harrow said, her voice taking on a slightly wistful tone before she continued. “No, I found his sex journal.”
“His what?” Gideon hadn’t expected that plot twist.
“This seventy-something year-old man had kept a journal of every sexual encounter he’d had since the mid-nineteen-sixties going up until far too recently.” Harrow’s free hand moved to pinch the bridge of her nose. “And somehow it had ended up in a box of library donations.”
“No way.”
“Way,” said Harrow drily. “We’re supposed to try to return any personal items that are accidentally left with us, but I wasn’t about to call this old man and tell him what I’d found.”
“Did you just burn it?”
“No. Palamedes owed me a favor, so I made him call. You should’ve seen how bright red he was. And Camilla and I were watching him, of course, and every time he’d look over at us, Cam would make some crude gesture with her face entirely deadpan and he’d almost lose it while still talking to the professor.” Gideon absolutely could picture that scene, she even managed a laugh as the tightness around her chest began to finally dissipate.
“That’s evil. Poor Sex Pal,” Gideon said, shaking her head. “Wow, that nickname has a whole double meaning now.”
“The best part is that the professor showed up an hour later while Palamedes was at the desk and when he took the journal back, Pal swears that the man winked at him and asked if he’d learned any tips. I think he might not come back to work next week.”
“I wouldn’t blame him,” Gideon said empathetically. She certainly wouldn’t want to return to work after that fiasco.
“Are you feeling better?” Harrow asked.
“I’m decidedly less panicked,” Gideon was relieved that that was the truth.
“Good,” Harrow turned so that she was fully facing Gideon. “So now you can explain that weird ‘gay cooties’ comment.”
“Oh, well,” Gideon brought her free hand up to scratch at her neck, “it’s just because I’m a lesbian. And you’re, you know…”
“Also a lesbian,” Harrow said, in the tone of voice one might use when explaining something to a confused kindergartner.
“What?” Gideon gaped at Harrow, that was the absolute last response she had expected.
“How did you not know that?”
“Uh—”
“We’ve known each other for two years and you thought I was straight that whole time?” Harrow was staring at Gideon in blatant disbelief.
“Um, worse actually. I thought you were homophobic,” Gideon said, cringing.
“What!?” Harrow’s voice was nearly a shriek.
“You’re always wearing that cross necklace and you’re so mean to me.” Saying it out loud, Gideon could ow see the weakness of her own deductive reasoning.
Harrow continued to stare at her, eyes darker than normal as she was backlit by the single emergency generator light overhead.
“The necklace is a family heirloom,” she said finally, “I was raised catholic, but I’m not practicing. And I was only mean to you because you were mean to me first. The day we met you said I looked like an ‘exhausted goth nunlet’.” Gideon inclined her head slightly, a show of admitting how Harrow may have taken that comment the wrong way. “Did you really think that Cam and Pal, Camilla Hect and Palamedes Sextus , would be close friends with a homophobe?”
“I don’t know,” Gideon said, “I mean, it didn’t really make sense, but who am I to judge?”
“I think in that case you absolutely should judge,” Harrow’s voice rose. “And how did you not know that Ianthe’s my ex-girlfriend? You two got high together at the twins’ birthday party last summer and made friendship bracelets for three hours. Afterward you said you shared all of your secrets, which you deeply regretted, but she never even mentioned that we dated for almost a year during undergrad?”
“Wait,” the pieces were falling into place, “her ex-girlfriend Harry was you?”
“Oh my god,” Harrow dropped Gideon’s hand and brought both of her own hands up to cover her face.
“Huh,” Gideon said, allowing her head to fall back against the wall as her entire perception of Harrow shifted to fit this new narrative.
“So, you’re gay, I’m gay, wanna makeout?” Why that was the first thing to fall out of Gideon’s mouth after this mental reconciliation, she’d never know. But once it was out there, she figured she might as well see what Harrow’s response would be instead of retracting the offer.
Harrow’s hands dropped and she gave Gideon a look of shocked disbelief, “Two minutes ago you thought I was a homophobe.”
“Yeah,” Gideon admitted, “but that was two minutes ago.”
“I’ve had a crush on you for the better part of a year and you thought I was homophobic the whole time,” it was now Harrow’s turn to sound a bit hysterical.
“You… what? You never said anything.”
“What was I supposed to say? I’ve seen the girls you date,” Harrow let out a small, sad laugh that made something in Gideon’s gut ache, “I don’t exactly look like them. And do I need to remind you about the whole being mean to me thing again?”
“I like the way you look,” Gideon said.
“You don’t have to say that,” Harrow replied, dropping her gaze to the floor.
“It’s true. I totally dig the goth librarian vibe. And I’ve always thought you were beautiful, I just never said anything because, well, you know,” Gideon felt a twist of embarrassment. “Plus, you’re smart as hell and I kinda like the fact that you’re a little mean. I’m a little mean too, as you keep pointing out. You must be, like, kinda into that if you dated Ianthe, right? And I was trying to hit on you that time, you know, with the nun comment? Like, I totally get where I went wrong. It’s like I see an intimidatingly hot girl and everything I say comes out in moron.”
Harrow’s gaze had returned to Gideon and she was staring at her as if she’d grown a second head.
“Just like right now. If you’re really not into the idea it’s fine,” Gideon said quickly, realizing how close she was to sounding like a too-persistent fuckboy. “Seriously, we can just keep talking—” her rambling was cut off by Harrow’s fingers pressing against her lips.
“I can’t kiss you if you keep talking,” Harrow said.
“Oh, uh, right,” Gideon said against Harrow’s fingers. Harrow made a noise of exasperation and dropped her hand before leaning up to press her lips to Gideon’s.
After spending so long pointedly avoiding any thoughts about what it might be like to kiss Harrow, Gideon still found herself surprised how easily she fell into the soft glide of lips and tongues. Harrow had always seemed to be all sharp edges but that was juxtaposed with the gentle way she kissed Gideon now.
It was the type of kiss that was easy to get lost in, even more so when Harrow moved to straddle her lap. Gideon had no idea how much time had passed since Harrow’s lips had first met hers and she found that she no longer cared that they were trapped in a box several stories up or that her clothes were still damp or how awful her day had been.
As Gideon’s hands skirted along Harrow’s waist, Harrow began to squirm on her lap in a very telling way, so Gideon shifted carefully until her thigh pressed right— Harrow let out a gasp— there.
Harrow broke the kiss, her forehead dropping to Gideon’s shoulder as her hips rolled against Gideon’s thigh.
Placing open mouth kisses across the column of Harrow’s neck, Gideon was in heaven with each small noise that Harrow made. It almost felt like the earth was moving under her.
It felt like the earth was moving under her.
“Holy shit,” Gideon said, pulling away from Harrow, “we’re moving.”
Harrow blinked blearily up at her for a second before she caught on, “Oh.” She said and Gideon wasn’t sure if she was imagining the disappointment in her tone. Before Gideon could protest, she scrambled off of Gideon’s lap, swaying on her feet in a way that made Gideon jump up to steady her.
But Harrow brushed her off, straightening her skirt and tucking a loose piece of hair behind her ear.
“Harrow,” Gideon began, but she was cut off when the elevator finally reached the ninth floor and the doors slid open.
They walked down the hall in silence and reached Harrow’s door first. Gideon stopped in the hall with her, unwilling to let whatever had been close to happening between them slip through her fingers.
“So… do you wanna come over? I really want to shower and change, but maybe in like half an hour you could come to my place and I could order pizza and we could… pick up where we left off?”
“Gideon…” Harrow sounded hesitant.
“Or not, that’s cool too,” she tried not to sound too gutted by the prospect of things between her and Harrow returning to the way they’d been before.
Harrow looked up at her, her dark eyes searching Gideon’s face, “I don’t just want a hook-up with you. I want to be clear about that, if we do this I want it to mean something.”
“Harrow?” Gideon said, reaching out to cup Harrow’s cheek.
“Yes?” a clear spark of hope flickered across Harrow’s face.
“Would you like to go on a date with me?”
“I would,” Harrow said, a smile playing on her lips.
Gideon felt herself smiling back, “How’s half an hour from now at my place sound? I just need a bt of time to change into some dry clothes. And I can order us pizza.”
“Okay,” Harrow agreed easily, still smiling up at Gideon as though she couldn’t quite believe this was really happening. Gideon could relate.
“What pizza toppings do you like?”
“Cheese.”
“And?”
“Cheese.”
“Got it,” Gideon said, “a nice plain pizza it is.”
“I’ll see you in a bit, then,” Harrow said as she pulled her keys out of her purse.
“Yeah, see you soon,” Gideon said, ducking to plant a kiss on Harrow’s forehead before she began to walk away.
“Hey,” Gideon said, turning around when she was a few steps down the hall, “you’re not gonna tell Cam and Pal the whole ‘I thought they were cool with having homophobic friends for the past two years’ thing are you?”
And Harrow looked over her shoulder with a slightly evil smile that Gideon could now admit she absolutely loved, “Oh Griddle, you’re never living that one down.”
Seeing the way Harrow’s smile lit up her face, Gideon found that she was entirely okay with that.