Chapter Text
Jet lag was a bitch.
Despite the fact that every muscle in her body wanted to give out and collapse on the dirty floor of the airport, she had to make one last stop before she could go home and collapse in bed for the next two days. The world outside would be resourced to nothing more than a background with faint sound and shifting light, as she would catch up on sleep.
Making her way from the baggage claim, Agatha dragged her feet and her unfairly heavy luggage that she had just picked up along with her carry-on bag that kept slipping off her shoulder.
The airport was unusually quiet for a Monday morning, the loud noise and annoying people were thankfully spare and few in between.
As summer had started to give way to fall, the days growing shorter and the temperature dropping, the amount of passengers had lessened significantly.
September felt like a reward at the airport after dealing with the height of people during the summer, a chance to breathe before the chaos would pick up again in time for Thanksgiving and continue well into January.
Navigating the airport easily, Agatha made sure to avoid the busiest areas. After a 22 hour flight from Sydney, she was in no mode to make polite small talk with passengers or other staff. Instead she used the staff shortcuts, cutting the usual 12 minute walk from the baggage claim to a whopping 8 minutes instead.
Walking briskly, she passed one of the staff kitchens, the smell of coffee slammed into as soon as she passed the threshold. Glancing longingly at the full coffee pot she continued her journey forward.
Coffee wouldn’t do her any good in her current state, she knew that, the memory of laying awake for hours the last time had haunted her enough times to not repeat the same mistake twice. Still she mourned the loss of the bitter hot beverage.
“Morning Harkness,” Agatha lifted a hand in greeting, not having the energy to greet the other pilot properly, she quickly continued her route.
Running on autopilot, pun definitely intended, it wasn’t long before she found herself outside the bland office door of her boss.
She knocked once, not bothering to repeat the action. If Chief Jones wasn’t in, she was going to go straight home to crash on the first predominantly soft surface she would stumble upon.
A muffled but audible voice came through the closed door. “Come in.”
Letting out a tired groan, Agatha opened the door and stepped inside, leaving her bags in the hallway as her fantasy of going straight home vanished in front of her eyes.
“You wanted to see me?” The man shot her a nervous smile before subtly pointing towards the chair opposite the desk.
Usually she wouldn’t sit, she rather stand and show her displeasure at being called in but today her body made that choice for her. Sinking into the padded chair she let out a tired groan as the weight was shifted off her tired feet.
“Yes, yes. How was the flight, good?” There were few things Agatha hated more than small talks and men, avoiding the topic at hand was also high on the list. “Sydney is so far. I would know since I’ve flown it myself a few times-.”
Rolling her eyes, she kicked her feet up on the pristine desk, effectively cutting the chief pilot off from his pointless rambling.
“Spit it out!”
Jones chuckled nervously as he shifted in his chair, the early morning sun caught the sweat that had started to build at his hairline.
“The flights have been cancelled.”
Agatha just stared at him, blinking slowly as she tried to make sense of the words.
“What?”
The silence was thick as it filled the room, heavy in a way that clearly made the man more uncomfortable. Jones shifted in his seat, letting out a loud cough before he spoke again.
“Yes unfortunately the weather has made it impossible and they’re closing down the whole airport for the next few days and maybe weeks.” Sure, it was hurricane season in Asia, but closing down a whole ass airport?
Either the storm she had heard about from the fellow pilots in the lounge in Sydney had been worse than expected, or the new head of the airport in Nepal had taken water over his head and was taking overly measured safety precautions. Either way it was messing up her very carefully planned work schedule.
“So what, am I just supposed to sit around and wait until it has passed?” Crossing her arms she glared at the man who laughed nervously as he kept running his fingers through his hair.
“No. Of course not,” he replied, his voice wavering as he continued. “You’ve been moved to fly to Madeira instead. It's yours if you want it.”
Madeira. As in Portugal?
One of the most popular flights their airline offered and one of the few flights the other pilots fought to get. Apparently the island was some sort of paradise… not that she would know.
Agatha narrowed her eyes, taking the man in. There was clearly something he wasn’t telling her. “What’s the catch?”
The chief started moving the papers on the desk, his eyes fixed on the fine print. Had he written a script? Her face moved up in disgust as she watched the man read from the page. “You’ll have to take the weekend off with the rest of the crew.”
“No.” She hissed out, moving her feet off the desk to sit up straight.
“Agatha, you have to,” Jones glanced up at her, almost pleading with his eyes for her to listen. “you’ve been working overtime for the past year and both the board and the union is breathing down my neck about it.”
“So, big fucking deal,” Agatha rolled her eyes, the board she could charm and the union worker she could probably scare. She would be fine. “I don’t need downtime, I need to do my job.”
“If you don’t take the offer, I'm legally required to bench you for the next month.” The words were hard. Final. Leaving no room for argument.
“What?” She shot out of her chair, the ache in her feet returning as soon as she put her weight back onto them but they were quickly forgotten as anger cursed through her. “You can’t do that.”
“I can and I will.” Agatha stared at him, trying to get him uncomfortable enough to take back the threats. But apparently the man had grown a spine during the last minutes.
When it was clear he wasn’t going to budge, she sank back down into the chair, her body and mind tired from the long flight journey.
Agatha thought it over, spending the weekend sleeping her days away at an hotel in Madeira or a month staring at her ceiling.
“Fine,” she hissed, her arms crossed tightly over her chest once more. “I’ll take it.” She spit out in displeasure.
Her boss smiled, the relief on his face instant as he nodded along. “Great. I’ll put you down for it right now.”
She was sure that some of her fellow colleagues would not appreciate her getting the first pick to such a destination. Being one of the pilots with the most seniority she was offered the great buffet of flights to pick from first, the rest of them got to fight over the ones she simply didn't want.
Usally she stayed clear from taking flights to Europe and the Caribbean, instead choosing Asia and South America as her preferred destinations. If that had anything to do with a certain other pilot preferring those routes, that was merely a very well fitted coincidence.
“If that’s all chief, I have a bed that’s practically calling my name,” Jones just waved her off, too busy tapping away at his keyboard, the papers now forgotten.
Before she passed the threshold an irritating thought crossed her overtired mind. “Who’s FO?”
She knew there was no way he was putting her down as the co-pilot when he had already pushed his luck enough for the next decade alone.
For every second he didn’t answer, the tingling feeling in her fingers began to spread. A vision of a certain annoying pilot that had switched to their airline earlier that year filled her head.
Gritting her teeth as she tried to shake away the image, she was about to ask again when she got her answer.
“Danvers,” Letting out a deep breath, Agatha thanked whatever deity there might be. Carol was competent, stoic and a fellow dyke, overall a good co pilot to spend almost 7 hours with to the Portuguese island in the Atlantic sea.
“Make sure she doesn't bring her wife’s baking again, the shit tastes like cardboard.” The last time the other woman had bought in a box of Maria’s baking, she had to dip the whole sponge cake in her coffee for it to become edible.
“Go home, Agatha.” Jones sighed tiredly, not sparing her another glance.
Not bothering to say goodbye, the door closed behind her as she picked up her luggage once more. Still tired but in a better mood than she had expected, she started to make her way to the taxi zone, ready to finally go home.
Her bed and her vibrator were calling her name and she intended to use them both regularly during her two days off.
“Morning,” she nodded to Alice as she grabbed a coffee cup and poured a healthy amount of the black liquid. The donut in her mouth made it impossible to answer back. She had grabbed two on the way into work, shoveling down the other one in the car as William had dropped her off before heading to school.
How Agatha had managed to befriend her neighbours and get their gay emo son to glue himself towards her side, she had no clue. But hey, she wasn't complaining when it meant free rides to work, the kid was practically begging to drive her.
"You're like my fairy godmother, except the fact that you're well… you.” Teen had told her a few months after meeting her. She had pretended to sulk but in all honesty it was kind of nice that he cared enough to include her into his pathetically small circle of friends and family.
The other woman lingered as she watched Agatha eat her chocolate covered donut in less than four bites, a look between amazement and surprise clear on her face.
“What?” The sound was muffled by the donut but Alice heard her well enough.
“So, Madeira. That’s nice,” it sounded less like an observation and more like a question, like she knew something Agatha didn’t.
“I suppose.” In all honesty, she couldn’t care less where she was flying as long as she got to fly.
Alice hummed, placing her empty coffee mug in the dishwasher. “Good day for flying.”
Agatha let her eyes follow the ATC’s, taking in the early morning sun that was starting to rise. By the looks of it, Boston would have a very nice day.
“It’s always a good day for flying,” she quipped, the other woman rolled her eyes at the words. The rumours that she enjoyed flying in all weathers had yet been disproven, much to Agatha’s own amusement and the airline's apprehension.
“I heard your FO was really excited for this flight,” Alice didn’t meet her eyes, instead choosing to stare out at the airfield and the runway. “Especially to fly with you.”
Furrowing her brows at the words, Agatha took a sip of the coffee. Carol didn’t exactly strike her as the kind to get excited for a flight and the least to fly with Agatha herself. “Why? Carol and I have flown together many times before.”
Alice turned towards her, eyebrows drawn together as she stared at the pilot. Confusion written all over her face. “Haven’t you-,”
“ALICE!” Both women jumped slightly from the sheer volume of Jen's voice cutting through the otherwise calm atmosphere. “Fuck,” she muttered as she shot Agatha a sheepish look.
Waving her off, Agatha took another sip of her coffee. It was only a matter of time before the flight attendant would march over, something she would rather skip. She loved Jen, truly, but god could she be annoyingly loud when she was angry.
“Go.” Alice nodded and sent her a small smile before she left to find her fiancé, despite the tone Jen had used, Agatha swore that the other woman was skipping in the direction of her lover.
Finishing her coffee and placing the cup in the dishwasher, she made her way towards the gate along with her carry on, nodding and greeting fellow colleagues and a few passengers.
“Tesoro, it’s been so long,” a blur of salt and pepper curls was all she saw before she was pulled into the older woman’s embrace. “Why haven’t you called, huh?”
Rolling her eyes as she tried to wriggle her way out of Lilia's arms, she found she had forgotten how strong the older woman was. “I called two days ago.” She mumbled, trying to come off as grumpy but finding she couldn’t keep the smile out of her voice.
Lilia was more of a mother figure than anything else, having taken Agatha under her wing after a specifically hard time. Mending her together with kindness, love and food in a way that few could do. In a way a few would have done.
She spent a few minutes chatting with Lilia and promising that the two would grab dinner one of the days in Madeira after learning the other woman was working on the flight as well, before boarding the plane.
It was over an hour before the planned departure, an overkill in some peoples books to be there so early but Agatha had always preferred the extra time alone to settle and check things over.
Putting away her bags and placing the bottle of water she had grabbed before heading to the gate in the cup holder, she started to go over everything that was required.
A knock on the door to the cockpit pulled her attention from the inspection and checking she was doing. Chief Jones put his head in and she could already tell he was about to ruin her fairly good mood and eventually her whole day too.
“Morning captain,” he nodded towards her as he stepped in, Agatha pursed her lips as she took him in. “Good day for a flight, eh?”
Déjà vu hit her as her conversation with Alice earlier flooded her mind. “It’s always a good day to fly,” she answered the same, hoping he would not try to make anymore small talk.
“So, listen Agatha,” Jones shifted on his feet, uncomfortable as he tried to find a way to break the news to her.
“You’re about to tell me something I'm not gonna like.”
It wasn’t a question. She groaned as she prepared for whatever had made the Chief Pilot of Darkhold airlines come down to tell her himself and not just send a message or another colleague to do it. It clearly didn’t bode well for her if the way the man was shifting around like he had ants in his pants was any indication of the conversation at hand.
“Danvers sick, some kind of flu she caught from her wife,” he shifted his weight once again as he decided to stare out of the window, not meeting her gaze. “She called in about an hour ago.”
“Okay…” people got sick, even pilots. It happened, perhaps more often than people thought. That did not however explain why her boss was so nervous.
“With such a short notice, it’s hard to find a replacement,” many possibilities went through her head, were they going to have to cancel the flight?
“It's hard to find competent crew that can step in.”
“Get to the part I'm not gonna like,” she spit out, Jones swallowed hard and opened his mouth but before he could answer another voice cut through the air.
“Here I am.”
Turning around, Agatha came face to face with the last person she wanted to see. Whiskey coloured eyes bore into her own before slowly dropping lower and checking her out without an ounce of shame.
“What the actual fuck-,”
“This is a good thing, Vidal is an asset here, Agatha,” Jones said, his voice cracking in places but Agatha barely heard him as she couldn’t stop staring at the other woman. “More knowledge, brain power and resources mean you get to the destination faster-.”
Rio stepped closer, the smell of her perfume and tobacco that clung faintly to her clothes made Agatha want to snarl. As if she knew the effect she had on her, Rio pulled out a vial of lipgloss and applied it to her lips.
Her gaze lingered on the movement, watching intensely as the applicator moved over the other pilots lips, coating them in a pretty pink colour.
Rio smacked her lips and the trance was broken, Agatha met her gaze briefly before looking away, the heat that threatened to colour her face darker only made her more irritated. Instead she chose to focus on their boss who was still droning on about god knows what.
“-teamwork makes the dream work-.“
“Eat my ass, Chief.” Jones stopped abruptly at her outburst, looking between the two pilots like he had somehow missed something as Rio tried to fight the chuckle at the words.
“I’ll leave you to it, then.” He nodded in goodbye before closing the door. Agatha let her gaze once more land on her now confirmed co-pilot and FO.
Rio circled the area before gracefully dropping into the seat on the right side of the cockpit. “It’s been a long time.”
Clearly not long enough, Agatha thought. “What are you doing here?” She spat out, snagging up her water bottle and taking a sip, needing something to do with her hands so she wouldn't be tempted to put them on the younger woman.
Her hair was lighter and shorter than the last time Agatha had seen her, now a golden sun kissed colour that ended just below her collarbones. She looked unfairly good, something that just pissed her off more.
“My job,” The other woman had the nerve to grin as she shifted in the seat, spreading her legs in a way Agatha had seen the internet call “lesbian spreading” as she turned to glance out of the window.
Agatha glanced down Rio's body, taking in the way the white shirt clung to the other woman’s arms and the way the fabric stretched slightly over her chest. Her eyes dropped lower, greedily taking in the belt and the bulge that stretched the navy trousers over Rio’s crotch down towards her black shoes-.
Hold the fuck up.
Moving her eyes back up again, she let her gaze once more land on the noticeable bulge in the other pilot's trousers.
Was she fucking packing?
At work?
For an almost 7 hour flight?
“Are you fucking packing right now?” Rio turned to look at her, eyes gleaming as she pushed her tongue into her cheek. A move that demanded attention and drove Agatha absolutely insane.
Grinning, she shifted in her seat, granting a better view of her crotch. “You noticed that?”
“Hard not to when it’s practically staring at me,” she gritted out, voice wavering just a tad.
“Checking me out, Harkness?” Rio smirked, the sight making Agatha want to slap and choke her, but knowing Rio the woman would definitely like that. Freak.
“In your dreams, Vidal,” so what if she had taken in the other woman’s body, that was no one’s business but her own. “Just making sure you haven’t smuggled in a weapon.” Agatha turned back to the control panel, checking that everything was in order, Rio’s eyes were still fixed at her face. The other pilot shifted in her seat, spreading her legs wider and giving Agatha a better view of her crotch that stretched tightly against the thick material of the dark navy trousers.
“How considerate of you, Miss Harkness,” the words were purred out, low and seductive. “Sure you got at good look or do you need to feel it too?”
Before she knew it, she was out of her seat, the bottle forgotten as it fell to the floor and her left hand wrapped around the other woman’s throat. Standing bent over her, looking down into those whiskey coloured eyes that gleamed with excitement, Agatha wanted nothing more than to watch her airflow decline and those pathetic whimpers spill from Rio’s plum pink glossed lips.
“I don’t know what you think will happen here, Vidal,” tightening her grip, Agatha leaned in closer, cherishing the breathy moans that spilled from the other pilot's lips. “but let me assure you that I’m in charge.”
Rio’s pupils were blown, her chest heaving from the lack of oxygen and her hips moving upwards, chasing friction. Licking her lips she let out a grin. “If you want to be in control, you can be.”
The words were wheezed out, but the implication stayed the same. Agatha had never wanted to smack and put someone in their place as much as she had with Rio. The younger woman had a tendency to push her to her limits until she broke and then it was up to Rio to put her back together again. Preferably with her mouth, fingers or cock but Agatha wasn’t overly picky.
Releasing her grip, she moved back enough to put some much needed distance between them. This was why they didn’t fly together, why Agatha had avoided her for almost 3 years apart from a few quick fucks.
The last time they had shared a flight, 7 years ago, they had needed to come up with a very convincing lie as to why the seats in the cockpit were ruined with both claw marks and unidentified darkened spots on the leather.
The memory of lips pressed against hers, against her neck and nimble fingers moving under her uniform. Of the way she had ridden Rio’s face until she was on the verge of collapsing as the other woman greedily slurped up all she could.
Rio must have remembered the same thing, for she leaned forward as she looked up at Agatha from under her lashes. “Im sure we have time for a quickie before they start to board.”
Fighting her body’s reaction to push the brunette further into the seat and use her as she pleased, Agatha straightened up instead and moved to her side of the small room, picking up her water bottle and putting it back in its right place.
“This,” she said, pointing between them, “is pure professional, nothing more.”
Rio hummed, clearly unconvinced if the way she was still grinning was to go by. Agatha didn’t care if she didn’t believe her, this time she was not going to let herself be manipulated into letting the other woman into her pants. She was nearing 40 for crying out loud.
“Okay, Agatha,” Rio mocked. Raising her hands and wiggling her fingers as she widened her eyes as she said; “Professional it is.”
Fighting the urge to throw something at the younger woman, Agatha decided to move and put some very much needed space between them.
“I'm going to the bathroom,” she didn’t need to see Rio to know the way her eyes would glimmer and she would bite her bottom lip, ready to follow. Turning around in the door she pointed towards her, like an owner would do to get their badly behaved dog to stay. “Don’t follow me, stay.”
She slammed the door behind her, but she could still make out Rio’s disappointed groan. Great, she was stuck with… what could she even call her? Ex? no definitely not. Ex fling? maybe. On a fucking plane in a confined space for the next 7 hours and then on the god forsaken island for the weekend.
Absolutely fantastic.
Closing the door behind her, she took in her appearance in the mirror. She looked unpolished in a way she never let herself be. Leaning against the sink, she let her forehead rest against the cool glass of the mirror.
“Fuck me!” She moaned in pure agony.
“I would if you would only open the door,” Rio’s voice answered back easily from just outside the door, sounding far too smug for someone who Agatha had just turned down.
Anger boiled in her veins as she slammed open the door. “I swear to fucking god, Vidal!”
It was about to be some of the longest days of her life.