How did one go about picking an outfit that made it look like she was hanging around the house without looking lazy or too casual? Rebecca hated people who tried too hard to create a look that implied they did not care, but she had no time to struggle with her hypocrisies.

Her phone was on a coffee table with the ringer on high volume so she did not miss any possible texts. She barely felt it vibrate when she was lounging on her couch, and had she missed it completely, she would not have seen Agnes’s request to come by so they could talk. It had been almost a week since they came across each other at Gotham’s Lost Lady, and Rebecca’s phone had been relatively quiet in that time. She was not expecting a bid for a visit to come in on a lazy Thursday evening when the sun was already setting outside her window, but here she now was, running around the apartment, cleaning up stray belongings and clothing, while simultaneously trying to pick out new clothes.

There was no chance Rebecca could deceive Agnes when it came to her outfit; her ex knew she was partial to lounging around in yoga pants and a loose sweater, but that was not the outfit she would greet the former love of her life at the door in. The former love of her life who was engaged to a beautiful harpist, who Rebecca had taken the time to Google. It was, of course, a mistake; knowing more about River would not make her existence sting less. Now she also had to come to terms with the knowledge that she was not only gorgeous, but seemingly kind and talented. Great.

Rebecca settled on a pair of hip-hugging jeans that she would normally save for a coffee-with-a-friend level trip out of the house, and a button-up plaid top with a tank top underneath. Her makeup was minimal, limited mostly to light eyeliner. She was going out of her way not to seem like the human mess she debatably was, but she wanted to stop short of “dressing to impress;” it was not her place to doll up for Agnes.

With her appearance carefully crafted, Rebecca was now stuck waiting for her company to arrive. How was she supposed to kill time waiting for an old friend to show up without pacing around anxiously? She settled on getting tea started; it would be a nice thing to have available to offer, and would hopefully ease her nerves.

The kettle was slowly heating up when a sound filled the apartment. It was not her phone, it was the familiar tone of the doorbell. Agnes was no longer on her way; she was there.

Taking her last available moment to prepare herself, she took a deep breath and opened the door. ”Evening, Agnes,” she greeted, making a conscious choice to use her proper name. ”Come in, make yerself at home.”

It had been a week since that fateful incident at the wine bar, a week for Agnes to think about the one person whom she hadn’t thought about for years – her ex-girlfriend, the supposed love of her life, Rebecca. One has to assume how they can be a love of your life and yet be forgotten so easily? Well that was the rub, it wasn’t easy. Agnes could still remember when Rebecca approached her with the news that she was accepted at a school overseas to continue her education. She remembered that day with perfect clarity, down to the scent of the perfume that the Scot had worn. It was memorable, to say the least.

The two had been in bed, spending a lazy Sunday together, smirking and watching something stupid on TV. Neither had yet to get dressed (why when it was a Sunday?) when that infernal email pinged on her girlfriend’s phone. She had been accepted to a prestigious school. Rebecca hadn’t figured she would get in but applied anyways, or she forgot she applied, something along those lines. The two had been stunned, the idea of separating again, it was maddening, but neither had showed that on their faces. Agnes kept a brave front, but even when Rebecca said she wasn’t seriously considering going, Agnes could see the truth; how could she stand in her way.

In the time that followed, the girls loved as much as they possibly could. They were inseparable. Ironic considering that they were soon to be separated by a league of oceans. As much as they loved one another, they knew that Rebecca’s schooling could take years and that Agnes had her own career and schooling to finish here. With heavy hearts they agreed it would be best to close the door on this relationship, but with the notion that they would return to it should the opportunity present themselves – and they were still single. At the time Agnes really and truly believed that she would find no one else because her heart had belonged solely to the Scot – time and distance, it seemed, made a liar of the young violinist.

The road was hard fought but in the end Agnes succumb to the same issues that plague all broken relationships. A busy schedule, a life that didn’t pause, and her own need for companionship eventually pushed Rebecca into a little memory slot in the back of her mind as her eyes sought the companion of others. Agnes wasn’t a whore or anything, but she had maybe one or two minor relationships (lasted a manner of months only) before she finally met and fell head-over-heels for the dark-haired Sioux, River Red Fish. By no one’s definition was Agnes a cheater, she was simply someone who moved on with her life.

And yet, now, it would seem that her old life and her new life were colliding head on and she simply had no idea what to do. Well, no idea other than to make a phone call.

It was another lazy day when she was scrolling through her phone. River had been on edge the last couple days. The time for the announcements of who received the harpist position she applied for had come and gone with no word. They had said they would contact her, either way, but hearing absolutely nothing was even worse. River, feeling like she had been dejected again, excused herself to go for a walk. While she was gone, Agnes scrolled through her phone for a distraction when she found the new contact with the little heart emoji added next to it: Rebecca.

This was not an easy decision to make, but she made it nonetheless. She called and wanted to set up a meeting, just a talk so that she could explain all this to the Scot and hopefully get them on some kind of friendly ground. Even though things were clearly more than over between the two of them, Agnes didn’t want her last impression in the redhead’s mind to be of that stupid wine bar. No, she wanted to at least have a chance to explain herself so that Rebecca would understand that her moving on had never been an easy decision. Maybe it was selfish of her but she could count on her hand the number of times she had actually been so.

---

Waiting outside the address that Rebecca had given her, Agnes took a calm, steady breath before she even thought of ringing the bell. She was dressed far differently than the night at the wine bar. The tight-fitting and revealing dress was replaced by something far more subdued and casual: black jeans that hugged her hips and a loose, soft pink cardigan with a white shirt underneath. Over her arm she held her jacket, a precaution against the impending cold of the winter season. Though this was not an occasion to dress up, Agnes did ensure to not leave the house without the smallest bit of make-up and a spritz of her favorite perfume that had been combed through her hair.

That last bit probably wasn’t necessary but it was too late to wash it out by the time she thought of it. Oh well, she was committed.

One last breath and Agnes reached out, ringing the bell. It only took moments before the door was pulled open and there stood her ex-girlfriend. Agnes shared a soft smile with the young woman clad in jeans and a plaid top. Over the years that they were together, Agnes was well aware of the young woman’s usually state of dress when she was home doing nothing, and it wasn’t this. The corner of her lips twitched into a smile as Rebecca invited her in.

”Thank you,” she said softly and stepped in when Rebecca moved aside. In her hands she held small bottle of wine with a Christmas bow wrapped around it. When Rebecca turned, she offered it to her. ”I assume you still like your red wine?” she asked. ”Sorry about the bow,” she shrugged. ”Left over from Christmas.”

The news that Oxford had accepted Rebecca in their program left her more conflicted than any moment in her life before that. Oxford was an exemplary school, and she would get the chance to spend some time much closer to her family. When she applied, she was convinced her application would be lost in the shuffle and not given a second thought, but evidently, they wanted her, and that was thrilling.

But England did not have Agnes. There was her role in the X-Men and her friends to consider as well, but Agnes was the only variable that made her hesitate. They talked things out, because at that point they had been in their relationship for several years. It was not a silly thing to weigh the implications of losing her girlfriend against the possibilities Oxford could open for her in the long run. They had reached a point where communication was crucial, and they decided there were too many things they both had to do in their lives to be sacrificing chances for the sake of staying together.

They were left in a painful position where they knew their relationship had an end date, and they were spending every available moment wringing their relationship for every cute moment and steamy night and lazy Sunday. They would bring the conversation back up occasionally, but they did not stray from their decision. Every time Rebecca was twirling a raven lock of hair around her finger and resting her head where Agnes’s neck and shoulder met, she had the same thought:

If Agnes asked her, she would stay.

Agnes never put her in that position, and that was probably for the best. They needed to be mature and pursue their dreams, and leave it to fate that if they were meant to be, the universe would help them figure it out in the end.

The universe was not the team player Rebecca always hoped it was.

---

Rebecca greeted Agnes with a smile tinted with sadness. She wanted to be happy to see her ex-girlfriend, but she was still teaching herself how to smile with an Agnes that was not hers. Leaving the country immediately after they broke up allowed Rebecca the courtesy of not having Agnes physically available to see and pine over every day. Agnes was the only girl she had ever broken up with, and no one warned her the recovery process might not work completely if she just removed herself from the situation. She never built up an immunity to the insect queen, so she was now back and just as vulnerable as the day she left.

But she was an adult, and would figure out how to survive on the fly. ”Ah’m nae a body tae turn doon onie wine. but aye, Ah loove mah reds. Thanks,” she said, taking the bottle and bringing it into the kitchenette. She thought of asking Agnes if she wanted a glass, but was wary to introduce alcohol into their evening’s plans. Alcohol was a dangerous guest in a meeting that carried so much history.

Instead, Rebecca grabbed the tea kettle and poured two cups for them before returning to the living room. ”Sit, get comfortable,” she urged her guest, placing their tea on the coffee table along with sugar, milk, and honey. She was getting ready to take her seat on the armchair to leave the loveseat for Agnes, when her eyes looked over the items on the table and a belated thought occurred to her. ”Och, sorry! Ah shoods hae asked. Is it... ur ye okay tae hae honey aroond?” Rebecca recalled a very vivid memory from an unforgettable incident that occurred over half a decade ago, before they were even dating, when she learned about Agnes’s cravings. The last thing she wanted Agnes thinking was she was being set up to repeat that messy situation.

There were somethings that someone just does not forget: their first kiss, an amazing day, a really good and passionate night, but for Agnes, she was good at remembering details about a person, especially when they were someone she used to be in a relationship with. Rebecca Grey, Agnes knew, enjoyed a good red wine. It was not like it was something hard to remember, the correlation was easy enough to implant into her head, redhead equals red wine. Of course that was not the only detail that she knew about the beautiful Scot. One particular was the small nestling of freckles on Rebecca’s lower back that, whenever Agnes pressed her lips to, would cause the fiery headed woman to make the most pleasurable of sounds.

Okay, maybe she shouldn’t be allowing her mind to drift to such things at this moment. The last thing she needed was to make this meeting anymore awkward than it already was. Agnes was engaged to a beautiful and talented young woman. Of course it would have been nice if the person who had given her the ring on her finger was the Scot, but that was simply not how things played out and she shouldn’t wish for things that were just not meant to be. It was too late to turn back the clock now. It was too late to ask Rebecca to have never gone to Oxford.

With a deep breath, Agnes returned to the present and let her eyes wander around the space that Rebecca was currently calling home. It was nice, homey, exactly the place that Agnes imagined Rebecca living in as a successful writer, though she was apparently a teacher now. Everything had its place, its charm, with little hints of New York, a splattering things that she didn’t recognize, and a few personal items that Agnes had to admit just screamed Rebecca Grey.

She smiled sweetly when Rebecca took the bottle of wine from her hand and slipped away to set it in the kitchen. Agnes nodded when she was instructed to make herself comfortable. Silently she took her purse from her shoulder and made her way into a comfy looking couch with a coffee table set in front of it. Rebecca returned just as Agnes bent her knees to sit, the scent of freshly brewed tea wafting through the air. Rebecca had always made the best tea, actually she had been the one to introduce the violinist to it as Agnes never really had the opportunity to have any while living on the streets.

”Thank you,” Agnes said quietly. ”Smells great.” She had set her purse aside when the redhead suddenly pipped up and apologized. At first Agnes wasn’t quite sure what she was apologizing for, it was just honey. But the word itself instantly brought the brunette back to a time that was much more innocent.

It was several years ago, when they were still living at the institute. Agnes’ powers were evolving in ways that she never could have imagined. The evening had started out simply enough though she had been having the strangest cravings for sweet confections. At that moment, Rebecca had come in and while the two were chatting, Agnes had found herself suddenly struck with a craving so intense that she could do little more than act upon it. While the redhead had been getting tea for herself, pouring and sampling the honey that she used, Agnes practically pounced on her. Driven by instinct, Agnes sought the honey wherever it was: Rebecca’s neck, her chin, and yes, even her lips. It was quite the night to remember, one that still made Agnes blush on occasion.

A small smile pulled at the corners of her lips at the memory and then returned her gaze to Rebecca who seemed somewhat cautious. As if to demonstrate, Agnes poured a small sampling of the honey into her cup of tea and showed clear restraint as she set it back down and smiled at the redhead.

”It’s under control, promise,” she said. ”You don’t have to worry about me ravaging you.” Was that a good thing or a bad thing, she briefly wondered. However, it was best not to consider such things. She cleared her throat awkwardly as she crossed her legs and sat back in her seat. ”Really, it’s not as bad as all that anymore. I have more control over my cravings. Besides, I just molted a couple weeks ago,” as if to emphasize, her iridescent wings flexed before being placed firmly against her back again. ”I’m good for a bit now.”

She took a breath. This, unfortunately, still felt a little awkward for her. What was the protocol in these situations? It wasn’t as if she could call and ask Gina. River may have had experience in this but that was certainly the last thing she wanted to talk about with her fiancée. No, unfortunately she was just going to have to wing this one and take each step as carefully as possible.

Her sapphire eyes rested upon Rebecca once the redhead started to get settled. After a second of contemplation, she spoke up. ”I’m…sorry this is so awkward. Honestly, this…is not how I expected seeing you again to go.” She gave a tiny shrug. ”I was going to tell you about River. Just the whole situation took me by surprise, you know?”

Rebecca doubted Agnes would have asked to come see her if she knew her molting cycle was ending, so realistically she had no reason to worry about a hormonal sugar-rush. It had been so long, for a moment she forgot how good Agnes got with tracking her cycles after she got used to her secondary mutation. If she momentarily panicked, it was because she really wanted their first private reunion to go well, and that meant escaping the night without anything that fell under the umbrella of an “incident.” The honey was a symbol of one of their first “incidents,” and it was hard not to associate it with trouble. (Or the time they tried to… incorporate it for old time’s sake before realizing chocolate would be an equally sweet, less sticky option.)

And those thoughts were being tucked away for the evening. Agnes assured her there would be no ravaging, and the logical part of her mind knew that to be for the best, which was all that mattered. ”Guid. Coz Ah’m craving honey,” she joked, adding the substance to her drink. She had developed a sweet tooth of her own since college.

Blowing softly on her tea to banish the steam for a moment and start cooling down the piping hot liquid, she looked back up. ”Sides, Eh'd assume ravishin' wisnae oan th' agenda when ye mentioned tonecht tae River.” Rebecca made a point to mention the fiancée first because the woman was going to be an inevitable topic, so she would be the one to introduce her to the conversation to signal that she was ready to talk about everything.

Agnes led right off the bad by apologizing, and regardless of what Rebecca said, she was glad to hear it. She was not owed an apology, but it showed her ex-girlfriend wanted to be considerate of her own feelings. ”Ah dornt hink anyain was expectin' th' nicht tae gang doon loch 'at.” Rebecca was greeted with a surprise snapshot glimpse into Agnes’s love life. Agnes had a nice date with her fiancée preemptively interrupted by a woman she saw off at the airport over two years ago. Nessa kissed her date only to be abandoned briefly for a ghost. River… actually, Rebecca was still unsure if River ever figured out all the details from that night.

”Engaged,” she said aloud, letting the word linger in the air. It felt wrong, like it did not fit in her mouth. ”Ah was gonnae hae tae hear it eventually. Mebbe Ah shoods jist be glad it was loch rippin' aff a band-aid.” They were both in New York now, and as large as the city was, eventually they would have stumbled into each other. Agnes would have had to figure out how to break the River—a duty Rebecca did not envy. Gotham’s Lost Lady forcer her hand, and for better or worse things were out in the open.

It was actually quite thoughtful of Rebecca to remember Agnes’ susceptibility to sugar. Not just because it was attached to one of the earliest moments at the beginning of their romance, but because it just went to show that there were some aspects of one another that they couldn’t forget. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, either. Sure they weren’t together anymore but they played such important roles in one another’s lives that it would be impossible to forget absolutely everything about one another. Had that actually happened, she was sure that both would have been heartbroken.

As she settled into her seat, she couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at her lips concerning Rebecca mentioning that she had a craving for honey. It put into the violinist’s head some rather deep-seated memories of the two of them and their experimentation with the variety of foodstuffs they tried to implement into their lovemaking. She almost cracked and laughed out like, recalling the mistake she made feeding Rebecca a hot better rather than the strawberry she meant to grab from the fridge. It was so terrible and yet so funny. Thankfully she was quickly forgiven – after performing certain deeds.

Blood rushed to her cheeks causing a slight coloration at the memory that danced around in her brain. Now was not the time for such thoughts.

Rebecca pulled her attention back when she mentioned that she doubted ravishing her was on the agenda. The thing was that Agnes had never mentioned to River where she was going, exactly. It wasn’t like she lied, she said she was going out to meet a friend because River had needed her personal space (that last part she didn’t say outloud). Again, she still had not informed her fiancée about who the strange Scottish woman was in the bar that night, only explaining that she had been an old friend from the prep school she had gone to. Maybe it wasn’t right, but Agnes needed time to frame the fact that she was talking with an ex-girlfriend.

She meekly nodded her head as she sipped her time, making an “Mhmm” sound of agreement that ravishing was certainly not on the menu today and decided, quickly, to move on to the ice-cold-shower topic that was weighing heavily on the both of them. After a moment to compose herself, Agnes apologized to Rebecca for how things had played out. She had wanted to tell the redhead that shew as engaged but she had been so unprepared and shell-shocked by the meeting that no coherent thoughts came to mind. Thankfully the Scot seemed to agree that no one could have expected their evenings to go the way that they did; that made her feel a little bit better.

Agnes did recall that as she watched Rebecca walk away that she sat at the table where another young woman sat. She had said she needed to excuse herself because she was on a date so Agnes could have only assumed that was who she was on a date with. The woman was beautiful, of course, and seemed almost understanding of the redhead’s disappearance from the cocoon of their lovely night. Agnes would have felt terrible if she had ruined that for the Scot.

>> ”Engaged.”

The word shook her from her musings. She turned her attention back and fully onto the redhead as she said the word out loud. At first she had said nothing, merely allowing Rebecca to roll that word about on her tongue before she continued. When she did, she seemed resigned to what that word was and everything it implied and agreed it was best things happened the way that they did. After all, either of them would have liked for the awkwardness to have been drawn out. It was one thing to hear that your ex was dating again, it was quite another to hear that they were engaged.

Agnes nodded her head in agreement, taking another sip of tea before resting it upon her knee in contemplation. She didn’t look at Rebecca, or her mismatched eyes, right away, and instead needed to compose herself before continuing. With a deep sigh upon her lips she looked up and gave her a faint smile.

”Yeah. Maybe.” she concurred. She then tried to turn it around to make it feel less…betray-y, if that were a word. ”Your date seemed…nice, by the way,” she said with a smile. ”Very pretty. I hope…you know…that my presence didn’t ruin anything? That certainly wasn’t my intention.”

Rebecca was living in New York as an adult, living in an apartment on her own in the city, doing her best to keep up with the stupidly high rent. It was modest, but it was definitively hers, decorated with little bits of her personality. It was almost perfect, but it could never hold a candle to her first apartment. Sure, it was even smaller than the one she occupied now, but it was special because Agnes was living with her and sharing the space. Having her at the new apartment as a guest was a painful reminder of what her home was lacking.

It was something they had wanted since early in their relationship, when they took their first trip to visit Rebecca’s parents in Scotland. She proposed the idea on the shore of her favorite lake, because Rebecca had never been more in love with her up until that point. Agnes had to finish out her first year at Julliard, and Rebecca recovered from her mental break after the Ragman, but even after that, they both had to bust their butts over the summer to handle a deposit and rent. It was not easy, and it was not much, but it was theirs, and it was never short on love.

It was a beautiful time, but it was in the past now. Returning to the present, Agnes wanted to bring their attention to Rebecca’s date from that evening. The redhead had spent so much time thinking about River and what her story might have been, she had actually been curious if Agnes had given much thought to her date. ”Yeah, Nessa's nice. An' pretty.” A petty part of Rebecca was glad that went noticed. ”An' it wasnae ruined; we ended up havin' a pleasant walk. It was jist a casual date wi' anither vlogger Ah knew.”

Rebecca sipped at her tea, before looking away from Agnes and down to her knees. ”It... weel, it was mah first date in... a while.” She considered saying the full truth—it was her first date since they broke up. She did not want Agnes knowing exactly how hung up on her Rebecca was, to keep her ex from feeling guilty and to preserve her own pride.

”Mah turn,” she said, trying to change the subject and move the conversation to Agnes’s side. ”River. Sae... when did 'at happen? Loch, when did ye tois meit?” She clarified the question to make sure she was not sounding bitter. She sipped her tea, awaiting an answer, unaware of Domino, her cat, hidden under Agnes’s loveseat, eyeing her shoes like exciting new cat toys.

Slowly she was beginning to calm down. She wasn’t necessarily relaxing, but it was becoming a little easier to push through the fog in her brain and reconnect with the young woman sitting across from her. Rebecca will always occupy a large chunk of her heart but she moved on a couple of years ago now and while the flames for the redhead had cooled, the deep and calming waters of their memories together would always have a place there. Now, however, reconnecting after so long, meant that they were going to have to find a new foot to step off on. They broke up well enough, but Agnes always believed that Rebecca would find a way back to her, like before, but time proved otherwise.

Still, sitting in the young woman’s apartment, looking over her modest belongings, the brunette had to admit that every bit of this place screamed the personality of her former lover. From the cleaned table tops to the discarded jacket and scarf sitting on a nearby chair, it was precisely the home of a single person, Rebecca Grey. She couldn’t imagine anyone else living here. But she wasn’t here just to observe the habitat of the elusive ex-girlfriend, she was here to talk.

They started small enough. Agnes had complimented the redhead on the date that she saw her one. She didn’t know the person that her ex was going out with (how could she?) so she really couldn’t pass any judgement on her other than to praise her ex for her taste in women. She had hoped that their meeting hadn’t ruined the night for her and apologized if it had. Thankfully it would appear that the date still went on, ending with a nice walk. If it had ended otherwise, well, the violinist really didn’t need to know that much. She was just pleased that her ex at least looked happy.

But she had to wonder…what the hell was a vlogger?

However Agnes couldn’t ask this question as Rebecca admitted that Nessa (unique name, by the way) was her first date in a while. Agnes had to pause on this, zero in on this statement as if she were scrutinizing it underneath a microscope. There were so many implications as to what that could have meant. Was it a while as in her last relationship besides Agnes? A while as in a week, month? Or a while as in the last time they were…no…it couldn’t be that last one. Five years had passed. There was no way that Rebecca Grey could have gone that long without being intimate with someone.

Okay, that may have sounded meaner in her head than she meant it too, but the reality, and logic, dictated that breaking up with one another didn’t seem to stop Rebecca from seeking affection from others. Again, not a knock against the lovely lass, just a statement of facts as Agnes knew them via experience. However, she wouldn’t push Rebecca on this and instead remained vague with her response, sharing a small smirk with Scot as she sipped her tea.

”We all get super busy,” she shrugged. ”Sometimes dating has to be sacrificed, I guess.”

However, as Agnes knew the conversation would inevitably turn, Rebecca inquired after River. Agnes tried to read the young woman’s expressions, to see if there was spite or annoyance or distaste at bringing up her fiancée’s name. So far Rebecca had managed to keep her feelings pretty well concealed from the violinist; she had to commend her for that. But feeling that she really couldn’t avoid the question any longer, Agnes took a deep, steadying breath and placed her cup of tea on the coffee table and folded her hands upon her lap.

She didn’t answer right away. Agnes took a second, collecting her thoughts for the best way to explain what happened. She didn’t want to paint the picture of an ex-lover who couldn’t wait and jumped into the next available bed that passed her way. No, it was more…complicated than that. So a few beats passed before those piercing, sapphire blue eyes locked onto Rebecca’s mismatched colors and she responded.

“About…a year and a half ago,” she replied. Agnes didn’t shy away from Rebecca’s gaze but instead pressed on. ”I got a full-time job as a violinist for the Little Traveling Symphony stationed out of California. It was…a change. Traveling all the time. River was the troupe’s harpist. We talked, we became friends, and…then we became more.” She finally said, a tiny shrug following afterwards. She blushed a little, looking away from Rebecca as she recounted what happened next. ”I hadn’t heard from you. In years,” she admitted. ”And even then, when she asked me out, I felt guilty and declined.” She snorted, a tiny smile showing the whites of her pearly teeth. ”But…she was persistent. Sweet and not creepy at all…but persistent. So we went out and…that was that.”

Probably a little more than Rebecca had wanted to know but Agnes felt a little rambly at the moment. She didn’t quite know how much was too much for this stage of the game but considering that it was better to clear the air and ensure that each knew where the other was, it made sense for Agnes to firmly plant her feet. Again, part of her would always belong to Rebecca, but the rest, sadly, that was River’s now.

In silence she reached over, taking her cup of tea again and sipping it. The warm sweetness rolled across her tongue before slipping down and warming her throat. She gave a small sigh of satisfaction before a smile tinged with sadness appeared on her face as she locked eyes with Rebecca again. There was only one question she could even think to ask now.

”Earl Grey?” she asked, referring to the tea that had been poured for her. Obviously it was the elephant in the room that needed to be addressed.

Agnes gave her a pass for her stunted social life, using her busy life as a reason to put dating on hiatus. It had truth to it, and it was the lie she was telling herself while she was in England, so it fit. ”Ah guess when Ah chose tae pit skale afair everythin' else, Ah hud tae commit tae it,” she mused with a hint of regret in her choice for how she made her decisions. How could she give any less than a hundred and twenty percent at Oxford when she decided to move away from the girl she was supposed to be with?

Who she thought she was supposed to be with. Agnes was not hers, and she had to stop thinking of her as such, regardless of how much it felt like a default position. She would grin and bear it all and listen to the story of how Agnes and River had been together for a year and a half. The idea hurt—they had been broken up for only half a year, and this new girl was using her boldness (and probably her huge… charisma) to woo Agnes. It was a bad feeling, but one Rebecca would choke down; they had broken up because of the choice she made, and half a year was a long time, even if she did not want to admit it. She spent that time moping and hoping for their future, while Agnes learned to get over her. Because they were not together.

She made the right choice. A Masters from Oxford carried weight and the lessons from the school made her a better writer, and that was too important to give up for a relationship, right?

Unless it was the relationship. Was that where her muse had gone? Maybe it did not abandon Rebecca, and instead it was Rebecca who walked away from her muse and got on a plane.

There was a pit in her stomach, but she tried not to show it. Feeling regret was not enough excuse to be selfish. Even Agnes pointed out that she struggled to let a new woman into her life, knowing full well she had nothing to feel guilty for. Rebecca genuinely wanted Agnes to be happy, and while she always wanted to be the one to give that to her, she had to accept it was River’s turn.

It took her a moment to process the story, and Agnes chose to fill the silence by asking about the tea. ”Yep. Alays a classic.” Rebecca kept plenty of tea on hand, but Earl Grey was supposedly good for anxiety and had a calming effect. It was doing a mediocre job.

She did not know what to say. What was the right way to tell the only woman she had ever loved that, despite hating seeing her with someone knew, she was going to swallow her ego and let her be happy?

Her smile was bittersweet. ”Ah’m glad someain was smart enaw tae fight their way intae yer life an' pit a rin' oan 'at finger.” River was smart, and Rebecca, despite her fancy degree, felt like an idiot. ”Guid fur ye.”

There was a new silence, and Rebecca’s head was fluttering with questions she knew she could not ask. When did she disappear from the back of Agnes’s mind? From her corner in Agnes’s heart? Did seeing Rebecca again make her ache inside, just a little? She wanted to say something, but if she opened her mouth, would the wrong thing pop out? Talking might be dangerous.

”Dae ye—”

Meow!

Rebecca was not sure what the next words on her tongue were, but she was saved from them by her ever loyal pet, Domino, as his head burst out from under the loveseat and his paws grabbed Agnes’s foot so he could pull himself closer to wrap his body around her shoe.

It was surprising, but Rebecca knew Domino was harmless with his claws neatly trimmed. The grey spotted cat was curious about the shoe, as he was all footwear, but when he turned over on his side, he looked up and his eyes, one framed by a signature black spot, looked up at the young woman he once lived with years ago. ”Ah knew ye waur hidin’ somewhaur,” she muttered. Domino was getting older, but he was still an energetic, vocal cat, and he started mewing, clearly not forgetting Agnes. She had always had a way with him, even back when she met him in Paisley.

Sorry ye missed 'er, boy. That's oan me.

So there it was. Agnes sucked in her breath, pulled on her big girl panties, and told Rebecca what had happened since they had been separated. It wasn’t an easy task, telling someone whom you used to be in love with how you fell out of love and into the arms of another. It certainly wasn’t easy the first time hearing news like that; maybe it was only fitting that the shoe were on the other foot this time? However, it was taken a step further with the announcement that Agnes was actually engaged to this person, a role that should have been coveted by Rebecca herself. Agnes would have liked that, of course, but that was not where their path had led them.

She tried to steer the conversation away from that topic; as impossible as it seemed, by instead commenting on the type of tea that she was drinking. For the brief time that the two of them lived together, Earl Grey was a scent that Agnes had easily grown used to, wafting throughout the house. This was especially true in the cold times as a nice cup of tea and cuddling up in their small, full-sized bed was all that they really needed.

With confirmation from Rebecca, Agnes nodded her head and held the slowly cooling porcelain cup in her hands. They warmed up instantly, making her smile a little; it was probably the only good feeling she had right now. Having to tell her ex-lover about her current was, of course, awkward, and even though the moment had passed, she could still feel it, like a mound of cotton sticking uncomfortably to the roof of her mouth. No matter how much tea she drank, it didn’t seem to alleviate it.

Her eyes drifted back to Rebecca with the Scot smiled (something was off about it) and congratulated Agnes on someone managing to put a ring on her finger. In the back of her mind her first thought was ”It could have been you, dumbass” but she didn’t voice these words, and she was glad Rebecca wasn’t psychic; instead Agnes just mutely whispered a ”Thank you” which followed Rebecca’s awkward “Good for you”. This whole thing was just so insanely awkward that Agnes wondered if they would ever get passed it.

A silence settled on the two of them, one that was both welcome and despised. It was a nuisance of a silence that choked the life out of the room, pulling thoughts and inappropriate questions to the surface of their minds. Agnes had no idea what was going on in the Scot’s head, but in her own, she wanted to know plenty: how had Rebecca moved on? Was she really happy for her? What did she think of River? All were dangerous questions, ones that could make or break the future of their relationship as friends as opposed to the lovers they once were. How could she rock that boat?

Rebecca’s voice rang out but was cut out by a most familiar and welcomed sound. Her eyes were pulled away from the redhead as she looked down to an older cat, one whom she used to cuddle with many times in her lifetime. Domino was Rebecca’s cat, one she met when they went to Paisley to meet her parents. Surprisingly (to Agnes) the feline took an immediate liking to the ex-runaway. Often in mornings she could find the cat curled up on her chest, purring contentedly. Outside of Rebecca and Gina, it was probably Agnes’ most affectionate relationship. It was heartbreaking when Rebecca took him away but really it made no sense for her to keep him as they were breaking up.

Still, that was so long ago and this was now. With a smile on her lips, Agnes looked like her old self again, pursing her lips to the handsome cat as she reached down to stroke the back of his head. Domino meowed, rubbing his head against her shoe and clawing at it as a means of punishment for leaving him. The second Agnes pale hand patted the feline, the cat paused and looked up with at her with predatory eyes. Seemingly having forgotten her, and relieved for her return, the cat forwent with her shoes, moved onto his four delicate paws, and hopped up onto Agnes’ lap with a single leap. Agnes had to chuckle, watching as Domino purred loud and hard, rubbing against Agnes’ midsection before flopping down and firmly sitting upon her lap. Lazily the feline closed his eyes, his head resting upon her thigh.

Agnes snorted. ”Oh yeah, Domino?” She looked to Rebecca, smirking as she fingers found that perfect spot behind the cat’s ears and began to scratch him there. The purring only intensified. ”I’m beginning to regret not bringing my lint brush.”

It was actually heartwarming to see Domino take to Agnes as though she never left, hopping into her lap to receive the attention and affection he so craved. It was the kind of sight she would have remembered seeing in their old living room on some quiet evening: Agnes relaxing comfortably, scratching behind Domino’s ear as she enjoyed a mug of tea or cocoa. Realizing how reminiscent of the past everything was, she chuckled and rolled her eyes at her cat. Goddamn traitur, yoo're nae helpin'.

Rebecca probably had a lint roller somewhere in her apartment, but she decided not to bring it up. It was an incredibly petty thought, but Rebecca liked the idea of Agnes returning home with the reminders of a cat that clearly loved her decorating her clothes. ”Ah mean, ye tauld River Ah hae a kitty, reit? Ah’m sure she'll understand. Unless she's allergic.” If she was, maybe Rebecca owed Domino for making Agnes unhuggable. Well, until her clothes came off.

And Rebecca was going to move on from that uncomfortable thought.

Maybe they had spent too much time dwelling on each other’s love lives. Relationships were not the only thing that happened, (or in Rebecca’s case, didn’t,) while they were apart. Rebecca wanted to catch up with the woman who was not just her ex, but one of her oldest friends Stateside. ”Sae ye hae tae teel me: bein' up thaur in th' Philharmonic. Is it everythin' ye dreamed when we woods lie thaur, talkin' abit uir dreams?” Just because one dream of the future did not pan out for them, did not make the others less significant. While Rebecca was still struggling to figure out her path, Agnes had reached a life goal by twenty-three. She was proud of the violinist, and regardless of the changing nature of their relationship, she wanted to show her support.

Which was why she had a secret tucked in the back pocket of her jeans…

Good ole Domino. Way to make everything weirder. Of course it wasn’t the feline’s fault that things felt just a bit more strained. The problem was that this cat was a major part of the girl’s lives and a frequent source of affection. Domino had quickly taken a liking to Agnes, and her to him, and that was reflected even now, after years of separation, when he flopped on her as if he had just seen her yesterday; though it shouldn’t escape notice that the intensity of the purring was only growing louder, signifying that even this little beast knew of the violinist absence in his life.

Agnes joked that maybe she should have brought a lint brush with her as she could already see the tiny flecks of cat hair sticking to her shirt. Unfortunately her comment only managed to bite back as Rebecca replied that River would understand if she knew that Rebecca had a cat. Her breath was sucked in, feeling the pang that comment delivered, like a knife into her gut. Again, she hadn’t told River that she was coming here and, if she had seen the cat hair, would immediately wonder where it came from. Maybe on the way home she would have to pick up a lint brush and do a thorough sweep to make sure none of Domino was left upon her.

Inside she felt herself sigh in frustration. Why did she feel like sneaking around on her fiancée when that clearly wasn’t the case? Surely she had every right to see her ex-girlfriend, if only just to catch up with one another. It didn’t mean that the two of them were off on some scandalous romp through the bedsheets. She met up with an old friend and her cat got hair all over here; perfectly innocent! However, it would have seemed so much more innocent if she had confided to River that the Rebecca she met at the wine bar was in fact her ex-girlfriend. Hindsight, it would seem, certainly is twenty-twenty.

Meekly she nodded her head and responded with a vague ”Yeah,” and nothing else. It was best they remove themselves from topics concerning her now fiancée before she said or did something that she could regret. This was still all a fresh scar for her and clearly it needed time to heal over now that the two girls were connecting, as friends, again.

A sigh of relief left her lips when Rebecca began to inquire about working for the Philharmonic. She was sure that when the two of them were together that Rebecca had grown sick and tired of Agnes’ telling her how much she wanted to be a part of an orchestra, especially one as prestigious as the New York Philharmonic. Given her mutation and her history, of course Agnes had felt like it was something that was little more than a distant dream for her, and yet here she was, able to achieve it. Rebecca seemed proud of that fact and wanted Agnes’ take on it, how could she refuse?

A brighter smile pulled at the corners of her lips, her free hand still idly petting the purring cat that was quickly falling asleep under the machinations of her devious fingers. She nodded, her look returning to that of the dreamer that Rebecca surely was familiar with. ”It’s…more amazing than I ever could have hoped. I mean, when I applied I never thought I would get in. They have such high standards and I had only been in the Traveling Orchestra a year or so when I saw the opening. But they loved me,” she said, a little proud of that. ”Even with me being a mutant – they loved me.”

That had always been Agnes’ fear. She feared that her mutation, especially once it evolved into more physical aspects, would close all sorts of doors to her. There were still a lot of anti-mutant sentiment in the world, but the orchestra had proved to be a veritable melting pot of diversity. People from everywhere, all walks of life, it seemed that the only thing they cared about was the music. It was the one shiny spot in all the crap that happened in her life that gave her meaning and trust in humanity again. And that was a good feeling.

”Thankfully they have a rotation schedule,” she smirked. ”For molting times and stinger months.” Idly she looked at one of her hands. Stinger months were the hardest for her as they involved her growing a large, poisonous barb in the center of her palm; made it difficult to play. ”They’re really good sports. And even if I don’t last more than a season,” she shrugged and looked a little smug. ”It still looks good on a resume.” However, all this talk of lives beyond the romantic made the ex-runaway think about Rebecca’s own dream. ”And you? Has some of your fabulous writing been published yet that escaped my attention? Was Oxford worth it?” She paused…that last part may have come out wrong. Inwardly she cursed herself but decided to try and play it off. ”I mean, I bet you got some great skills from them. Heh, I still have trouble just writing a coherent shopping list.”

Smooth.

There was no reason for Rebecca to question Agnes, and yet she found herself doing so. It was an innocuous one word answer, but time apart had not made Agnes harder to read. Rebecca spent most days with Agnes over the course of their three years together, and in that time, she could pick up on the inflections and inconsistencies in her lover’s voice. Over two years later, Agnes had gotten no better at hiding her feelings from her tone. It was a “Yeah,” but it was quick, nonchalant, and looking for no reply. Rebecca would grant the wish and drop the subject, but she was curious now: did she really give River a heads up? And if she did not, why lie about something so little?

Moving along with the conversation, Rebecca leaned forward, her elbows poised on her knees, with her fingers interlaced and propping up her chin. She listened intently as Agnes talked about her experience with joining the Philharmonic, her eyes lighting up as she fed off her friend’s joy and passion. When they were together, she always appreciated how the success of one of them was a victory for both. They were always a team, and she was always genuinely rooting for Agnes. She never really stopped.

Hearing how the orchestra not only accepted her, but loved her for who she was, filled her with a warm sensation of appreciation for strangers she had never met. Rebecca had an easier path than Agnes, being born with an invisible mutation. Agnes, for as beautiful as she was, had always been unmistakably a mutant. She swapped through different insectoid features that were hard to hide, and before an insane unicorn man crossed her path, she had a scent that was difficult to bear at times thanks to the bugs inside her. Acceptance was never easy for Agnes to find, starting with her family and extrapolating to her experiences with society in general. To hear she was being accepted as a mutant by a group of people who shared the same passion she had… well, it did the Scot’s heart good.

She nodded and smiled at the news that they were working around her mutation through clever scheduling. Agnes backpedaled a little, bringing up the possibility that they would not keep her on long, but Rebecca shook her head. ”They'll keep ye. Loch ye said, they loove ye. Ay coorse they dae. They'd be crazy tae lit ye...”

Rebecca swallowed hard, realizing how stupid she was, both in the moment with what she was thoughtlessly saying, and maybe years ago. Likely recognizing the awkward pause that was lingering in the air after that comment, Agnes asked Rebecca about her literary endeavors. The topic did not help Rebecca’s mood any, and neither did an awkward slip that may have been Agnes accidentally speaking too honestly.

Taking a deep breath, Rebecca smiled and shrugged her shoulders. ”Ye huvnae missed anythin', tryst. Ah definitely learned a lot thaur. Ah’m sure Ah’m a better writer fur it,” she said, her tone making it clear that she had her doubts. ”Ah huvnae bin able tae write a wuid since Ah've bin back,” she confessed, abandoning her pride to be honest and laughing bitterly at her own admission of failure. "Ah'm nae e'en sure if Ah'm still a writer. If it's still in me."

When she was done laughing at herself, she took a deep breath and looked down at the reflective surface of her tea sitting on the coffee table. ”Nae, it wasnae worth it,” she mumbled, and her voice only weakened as she continued. ”If Ah coods, eh'd gang back an' choose reit.”

>> ”They'll keep ye. Loch ye said, they loove ye. Ay coorse they dae. They'd be crazy tae lit ye...”

Agnes could feel the blush already beginning to color her cheeks. Whenever she was around the redhead, the Scot had the ability to say the exact words that could reach into her body and tickle just the right spots to make her skin goosebump and her cheeks color. She didn’t know why Rebecca had (and has) such a powerful effect on her. Maybe it was because she was her first real love and that she would always have access to those areas of her psyche. Maybe the redhead was just an accomplished flatterer. Whatever the case, Agnes still found herself reeling under the sweet words of her ex – that is until the awkward pause came.

At first Agnes didn’t realize why Rebecca had suddenly stopped. She tilted her head, momentarily stopping in petting the purring feline stretched out across her lap, and focused on the Scot. But as Agnes started to roll the conversation backwards through her mind, she began to piece together everything that was said, looking at it closely, until finally she came across the culprit. Rebecca was going to say that the orchestra could have been “crazy to let you go” and therein was the problem. Agnes felt her pulse quicken a little, her eyes avert down to Domino and he soon became the sole focus of her attention.

Dammit, it seemed that even when they tried to focus on things that weren’t awkward that they still ended up that way. It was as if the fates were forcing them to talk about this subject, to hash it out right here and now instead of pussyfooting around it. It was ridiculous, to be honest. Why couldn’t they just tackle it one step at a time? Her slender hands finding that perfect spot behind Domino’s ear, she shared a small smile with the feline as it stretched out even further, completing the transformation into Cat-Log. Great, now she was never going to be able to leave.

Sadly Rebecca wouldn’t be the only one to make a faux pas. Just as Rebecca had made a mistake, Agnes did as well when she tried to steer the conversation away and inquiry as to Rebecca’s time at Oxford. However that came out just as badly when she asked her ex if it was worth it. In her mind she was referring to the time, energy, and studying that is required to go into grad school, not whether it was worth breaking up with her; but it could easily be interpreted that way.

Agnes said nothing at first, instead just looking over the young woman as she seemed to be gathering her thoughts together. The silence was deafening but, luckily, it didn’t last long as Rebecca soon started to get into her time at Oxford: it was good, educational, but it seemed that since returning stateside that writer’s block has become an issue. Agnes’ brow furrowed in thought, she remembered those few times when they were together how writer’s block would affect Rebecca, but it never seemed so severe. This, seemingly, was making Rebecca question whether or not she was even still a writer.

”I’m sure she’s in there somewhere,” Agnes admitted. While Rebecca had always been Agnes’ personal cheerleader, the same was vice versa – even if they were in different relationships now. ”The muse can come from where you least expect it.”

A soft smirk rolled across Agnes’ lips when Rebecca laughed at her own misfortune, but Agnes knew the redhead well enough to know that it was affecting her more than she was letting on. Rebecca loved to write and it frustrated her when she couldn’t find the inspiration. If she were really having this long of a dry spell (in writing!) then it was affecting her more than she was letting on. This was even more evident with what she said next.

She never thought she would hear those words. Rebecca admitted that going to Oxford wasn’t worth it, even going so far as to say that if she could go back and choose differently, she would. It wasn’t hard to mistake what Rebecca was referring to. The weakening in her voice, her inability to look her in the eye, Agnes could feel the beginnings of regret forming on the Scot’s face. Her voice was so low that she probably hoped that Agnes didn’t hear that part – or that she was listening so closely she would. What was the violinist supposed to say to that? Their relationship ended so that she could go and now she’s having regrets about it.

Angry. Upset. Pitying. Self-Righteous. Sad. Agnes didn’t know how to feel about the admission. She wanted to feel them all at once but at the same time she wanted to just let it go. After all, why get upset about it now when so much had happened? Agnes moved on. Rebecca moved on (supposedly). There was no reason to dredge up the decision that led them to where they are today.

Agnes chose her next words carefully. She wanted to say that she regretted it too. That she should have asked Rebecca to stay, rather than go. But all that would be counter-productive. This is where they were now and no about of backtracking was going get them into the past to change things; this was the life they needed to live with. Gently she moistened her lips before she raised her eyes to lock onto Rebecca’s. When she caught her gaze, she spoke…

”What’s done is done…Becca,” she never did forget the shortened name of her ex-lover. ”We can’t change the past. We can only push forward.” She gave a tiny shrug, her fingers again finding the perfect spot before Domino’s ears. ”You’re just feeling a little lost now. But you’ll find your way. I did. And I have every faith that you will too.”

Agnes did what she could to comfort Rebecca when she realized she was doubting herself as a writer. It would have been nice to hear her ex-girlfriend reassuring her again, but Rebecca’s head was already swirling as she felt herself saying something she immediately regretted.

The air in the room felt heavy, and Rebecca was entirely to blame. Once she realized what she had just allowed herself to admit, she suddenly realized that her breath was caught in her throat. It was something she had never said before that moment, aloud or even in her own head. She always looked back on her time at Oxford and rationalized that, with everything she had learned, it was the only choice she could have made, but there were always lingering doubts. She worried originally that she would regret not making the choice to better herself overseas, but nothing about her felt “better” without Agnes.

Realizing how she felt did not justify saying that to Agnes. It slipped out, and if she had given the comment a moment of thought, she would have held it back because it was unfair of her. Rebecca could decide she made a mistake, but that knowledge did not belong on Agnes’s plate. The violinist had a fiancée, a job, and an entire life she was able to build after Rebecca left. They both struggled to get past their relationship, but Agnes had succeeded. The regretful redhead had no right to make Agnes look back on the breakup with the knowledge that it could have been different.

Rebecca finally cast her eyes back up at her ex-lover, hoping Agnes would break the silence, and caught those familiar blue eyes as they rose to meet her. She said what Rebecca needed to hear, even if it was not what she wanted to hear in an ideal world. The past was the past, and unless Rebecca had developed the ability to time travel with her mutation, this was the reality she had to accept. There was no reason to dwell, even if there was one more question Rebecca was dying to ask…

Imploring her better judgment, Rebecca shoved the question out of the forefront of her mind and focused on Agnes. She was right; the young woman returned from England with a Masters and no concrete plan. Since being back in America, she was struggling with her muselessness, and after reuniting with Agnes, it was hard not to look on with envy at the stability that could have been hers.

Rebecca sighed and tried to smile. ”Yoo're reit. Yoo're guid at 'at,” she admitted, unsure if she was commending Agnes for knowing her so well or being the one who could calm her nerves. ”Ah guess Ah’m nae used tae bein' aimless.” For the longest time, Rebecca had plans and agendas and priorities, but suddenly she was just staring at an expansive, uncertain future. ”It's still weird sometimes knowin' yoo're nae in mah corner anymair when Ah gang astray.” She knew even without being together, Agnes would always support her, but Agnes had been out of her life for so long, and there was always going to be a difference between a friend supporting her and the woman who would stand by her side as they took on the world together.

”Ah want us tae be friends,” she assured Agnes, finally picking her tea back up from the table. Earl Grey was calming, supposedly. She needed a lot more Earl Grey. ”Ah want ye back in mah life sae we can hae each other's back.” It would take time for them to establish a solid friendship, and maybe there was too much baggage to be best friends again, but she did not want to talk her way out of Agnes’s life. Again.

Rebecca reached into her back pocket, but kept what she pulled out hidden in her hand. ”Regardless ay hoo messy mah life can be reit noo, 'at doesnae mean Ah shooldnae be cheerin' ower yer success.” Just because she was struggling personally, did not mean she could not be the happiest—or more likely, second happiest person in the world getting to watch Agnes flourish.

Throwing the glossy rectangle down on the table, Rebecca nudged what was a ticket to the New York Philharmonic across the surface to get it close enough for Agnes to see it. ”It's fur next week. They're th' best tickets Ah maunt tae fin' left available.” The tickets were not the most expensive thing Rebecca could have spent her money on, but they were definitely a splurge purchase. ”Ah want tae be thaur an' be crazy prood ay ye. If... that's okay.” Rebecca wanted to make an effort to be a good friend to Agnes, but she had also dropped an emotional bomb on her. If Agnes needed time before letting Rebecca in her life, she would begrudgingly understand and give the tickets over to someone else.