summary: Post 2x16 (“Rebirth”), as the search for Kate goes cold, Ryan goes home with Sophie to regroup. Sophie seeks a different sort of comfort than Ryan is prepared to offer. + read on ao3
notes: HAPPY WILDMOORE WEEK!!! I was going to post something else originally, but if the prompt for day one is emotions / tropes, then it feels like it's time to drop the angsty wildmoore late s2 moment that I never posted.
context: back in 2x16, Alice jogged some of Circe!Kate’s memories, but the only person that Circe!Kate recognized instantly was Sophie. While Circe!Kate and Sophie were alone, Circe!Kate sent Sophie to go get liquor from her desk drawer and took off into the night. This picks up right after.
🦇
Ryan’s used to keeping late hours by this point. But she normally has the Batsuit, not just a long sleeve crop-top to keep her warm.
Sophie doesn’t seem to mind. The frantic adrenaline of searching for Kate keeps her going. Sophie doesn’t even get back into the car after checking the old Kane house. She just paces from one end of her car to the other, while Ryan watches from her seat on the car’s hood.
“Sophie….” Ryan starts.
Sophie does another about-face. “We’re not done. There’s still the waffle stand—”
“At midnight?” Ryan deadpans.
At this point, not a single soul’s alive in the suburban neighborhood. What would make a waffle stand any different?
“She’s gone there before!” Sophie snaps. Ryan’s too tired to actually respond to the tone, but Sophie must have heard herself. She takes a sharp breath. “I’m sorry.”
Ryan nods as a way of accepting the apology. She slips off the hood of the car to stand in front of Sophie. Maybe if she physically cuts off the path, Sophie will stop moving. The last thing they need is for Sophie to work herself into a frenzy, or go charging after Roman.
Sophie begrudgingly stops opposite Ryan. It doesn’t give Ryan much, but it’s enough. Ryan’s driven from one end of Gotham to the other for Sophie tonight. But they have to stop at some point.
“Look, we don’t know who, or what, Kate’s looking for right now.” Ryan takes a second to think. Kate really could be at this waffle stand, or at the Cartwright barn, or anywhere that feels helpful. Ryan thinks aloud. “When I was poisoned, I went to Angelique. Both for answers and because Ange used to be my person. Maybe Kate would go to you.”
Sophie wavers. The street lights make her seem smaller. More vulnerable than she usually lets Ryan see. She puts a hard mask over her voice to make up for it. “Do you really believe that, or are you just trying to make me go home?”
Ryan tilts her head to the side. “Does it matter?” She scans Sophie’s posture — the balled fists, the sharp breaths. Ryan sighs while reaching for the car door. “We can regroup at yours, okay? If you come up with something better, then I promise we can go there too.”
She opens the passenger door and holds it out for Sophie. This is what they do. Deals and compromises have gotten them through months of working together. Give an inch one day, and give Ryan the keys to Sophie’s car another.
Sophie’s eyes squeeze shut, and Ryan smiles before Sophie gives in.
“Fine.”
🦇
So that’s how Ryan ends up walking into Sophie’s apartment for the first time. It is ridiculously nice. Firm proof that the Crows are making way too much money in that private security business. Ryan used to be homeless, but Sophie’s got an open plan condo with a balcony.
Sophie only flips on a few lights, so it’s a bit dim, with a slight stream of moonlight filtering in from the blinds. There’s nothing but a rumble of Gotham from outside. It feels a lot more intimate than the sort of sterile environment Ryan imagined Sophie would have.
Ryan lingers near the door frame to take in the space. Impersonal things by the door like a shoe rack, some coat hooks with basic, black Crows blazers hanging, and a welcome mat that’s most definitely from IKEA. Then there’s a bouquet of tigerlilies haphazardly on the counter outside the kitchen. While they don’t have to mean anything, the lesbian part of Ryan thinks of the movie ‘Imagine Me & You’ and figures Sophie bought them for Kate. Bought them to say, ‘remember me,’ and ‘I won’t remember anything else.’
Ryan spots an empty vase on the entrance side table and picks it up. The flowers will need water. She heads into the kitchen to her right. Sophie’s already opening the cabinets.
“You want a drink?” Sophie checks.
Ryan nods as she steps to the sink and flips the water on. She can feel the heat of Sophie’s eyes on her. It’s easier if Ryan watches the water come in. Focuses on doing what she can to keep things from getting worse. She flips the sink off, then goes to settle in the flowers.
The silence between them isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s also charged in a way that Ryan’s not sure what to do with. Is it just the night weighing on them? Or maybe she’s projecting after today? When Kate had turned around and recognized Sophie immediately, when they’d crossed the office like two reunited soulmates without a care in the world — it’s like a stone lodged in Ryan’s ribcage.
In the moment, Ryan’s shoulders cave in to compensate for it. Her breathing is harder, or not there at all. Her heart….
Ryan has no reason to react that way. Of course Kate would want Sophie back, just like she’ll probably want everything else back too. Ryan forces the thought away and goes back to checking out Sophie’s condo.
The flowers add a nice pop of color. The majority of the walls are covered in art. Ryan points to a bare spot. “Saving that for your rainbow flag? Lesbianism 101 says you need one.”
“I’ll add it to my to-do list,” Sophie quips. She holds up a bottle of wine, and Ryan nods to accept it. Wine means they’re not going back out. Good; Ryan really doesn’t have it in her to fight with Sophie about searching again. Sophie uncorks and fills their two wine glasses.
Ryan bypasses the dining table to flop down onto Sophie’s couch. The aches in her body call out to her. She stretches slightly. A little curl of her back that feels amazing and nearly draws a sound out of her. This hero shit is not for the weak.
Sophie balances the glasses and the bottle on her way over to the couch. Ryan grabs a coaster that just barely fits the wine bottle and slides it to the center of the coffee table. Sophie smiles her thanks before setting that down and handing Ryan a glass. The tradeoff is so smooth that Ryan frowns. She doesn’t remember when they got this good together.
Sophie lowers herself down on her end of the couch. Tugs her phone out of her back pocket and lays it on the table.
“Mary probably needs you,” Sophie says. It’s an out if Ryan wants one.
“Probably. But you got dibs.” Ryan sips her wine, and a surprised little moan comes from her at how good it is. Sophie grins.
“I don’t remember calling for it.”
Ryan shrugs. “Consider it a ‘thank you’ then. You babysat me on the island, and I…”
“Babysit me when Kate comes back?” Sophie finishes for her. Her voice sounds distant, like her mind’s not all here.
Ryan tilts her glass towards Sophie and stage-whispers, “I’m only in it for the wine.”
Sophie chuckles. “It’s good wine.” She sips hers. Holds it in her mouth a moment before swallowing. “Tyler bought it. He took a lot of things when he left, but he left these.”
“His loss,” Ryan says.
Sophie nods. She sits up straighter and makes a conscious effort to take in the room. “I’m living the dream, right? Beautiful apartment… beautiful woman… and me.”
She clearly doesn’t believe in any of that. Her heart’s not in it. Sophie downs her glass. Ryan grabs the bottle so that she can refill it the moment that Sophie pulls the glass from her lips.
Ryan hums while she pours. “As the beautiful woman in this scenario, I think you need to cut yourself some slack.”
“For what?”
“For having to start over, and doing it pretty well.” Ryan sets the bottle down as she talks. “When Ange and I broke up, I was a total disaster.”
Sophie tilts her head to the side. “Weren’t you in Blackgate by then?”
Ryan nods. “Yup, just Matrix dodging every single one of her calls.”
Sophie glances back down at her wine. “Yeah, well, Tyler never called. He cleaned his stuff out and mostly sent emails after that.”
“And Kate? The first time, I mean. Did you two… talk after Point Rock?”
Ryan admittedly doesn’t know much about what went down with Kate and Sophie. Mary’s told her enough — they were madly in love at the military academy, but when they got outed, Sophie chose to hide again. And Kate left. It’s not really feeling that different from where they are now.
Sophie shakes her head. “We didn’t talk again until I got kidnapped and she became Batwoman. It’s not a juicy story, I promise.”
“Right,” Ryan starts sarcastically, “because boring stories involve a kidnapping and a superhero origin story.”
Sophie laughs sarcastically. “There’s really not much to say, Ryan. Kate and I…. It’s like the timing is never right. Like something….” She drinks. Admits, “Something’s always off.”
Ryan knows that feeling. Her and Ange never fully click either. Not romantically. It always breaks. At least this time, Ange might actually get her life together. Maybe Kate will too.
Sophie cringes. “Shit, what am I saying? I’m supposed to be positive right now. Hopeful. Excited.” She tries putting some of that into her voice, but it comes out flat and false.
“You don’t have to be anything,” Ryan says. “Sophie Moore is enough.”
Sophie glances back to Ryan. Her eyes seem darker than before. It could be the lighting, or maybe just the sincerity of the conversation poking through. There’s something in her eyes though — something that makes Ryan’s heart skip a beat. Something warm beneath the pain and the weariness. But then Sophie blinks and sinks back against the couch. “Well, thank you… Ryan Wilder.”
Ryan sips to cover up her smile.
🦇
The red wine might have been a miscalculation. Sophie downs her first few glasses as a way to forget. Forget how Kate had immediately recognized her. Forget the mourning and the confusion and the months of grieving someone who’d been still here. But as she forgets, other feelings settle in. Other thoughts and realizations. Because someone was here throughout these last few months. Someone is still here, in fact, singing along softly to music from her cell phone.
“I can’t believe you’ve never heard this,” Ryan says. Her eyes are brighter than normal. Or maybe they’re just closer than normal.
Sophie swats at Ryan’s arm. “Don’t mock me! You’re supposed to be helping me.”
“I am.” Ryan’s knee bumps into Sophie’s. “But you have to relax. You know this is your place, right?”
“I am relaxed,” Sophie snaps. Ryan quirks a disbelieving eyebrow. Sophie huffs out, “I am.”
Ryan eyes Sophie’s tan blazer. “You still have your jacket on.”
Sophie sets her wine down and meets Ryan’s eye while pulling her blazer off. It’s a little hot and intense — her narrowed, challenging eyes as she loses a layer. They’re so much more level on a couch. Like a few weeks ago, when Ryan’s eyes had been soft on Sophie’s skin. Would her lips be soft? Her touch?
Sophie’s voice sounds a bit breathless. “Happy?”
Ryan maintains eye contact and takes off her own jacket. She tosses it behind her onto the floor. It’s meant to make Sophie laugh. Meant to defuse some of the growing tension. Instead, it draws Sophie’s eyes to Ryan’s arms under the very thin flannel crop.
Sophie reaches out to touch the flannel above Ryan’s tank top. “I can’t believe you work in this.” She plays with the collar between her fingers, and her knuckle brushes against Ryan’s partially exposed bra. Ryan wills her body not to react. Even as Sophie’s voice pitches lower. “Must be great for tips.”
The slight simmer in Sophie’s eyes burns into a raging fire as Ryan’s throat dries up.
Ryan clears her throat. “That and my dazzling personality.” She flashes Sophie a playful smile. “A few words, and they’re—” Sophie slides her hand up to Ryan’s neck. Ryan gulps. Sophie smirks.
“They’re what?” she teases. Ryan doesn’t think it’s fair that Sophie could seem so lost one moment and so totally in control the next. Sophie shouldn’t be able to turn the tables this quickly. This isn’t what they do. They fight. They bicker. They push. Yet here Sophie is, teasing her slight nails on the back of Ryan’s neck.
Ryan shivers, and Sophie has never looked hotter. This boldness isn’t exactly what Ryan envisioned when she told Sophie to get comfortable.
“Soph.” It’s a breathless warning, and Ryan should have said her whole name. Should have made sure to keep the boundaries in tact. “This night has been long enough.”
“It could get longer.”
Ryan smirks. “I’m sure it could. But it wouldn’t make you feel any better.”
Sophie chuckles, but she pulls her hand back into her own lap. “You’re selling yourself short there, Wilder.”
Ryan laughs, but her chest is on fire. Her voice shakes. “We are not talking about me. We’re talking about you. And Kate.” The last word gets a very dissatisfied groan from Sophie. Ryan talks over it. “She’ll be back by tomorrow. No way she’s staying away from all that.” She lets her eyes do a once-over to sell the teasing tone. Bounces her gaze right back to meet Sophie’s, but there’s a seriousness there that makes Ryan’s smile fracture. “We’ll find her.”
“And then what?” Sophie asks. “You….” She licks her lips, but it’s more of a nervous tick this time. A way to restart her thoughts rather than short-circuit Ryan’s. “If Kate comes back, what happens to you?”
Ryan doesn’t know. She admits, “I haven’t thought about it yet. I mostly just thought about how everyone else would handle it. Like Luke and Mary.”
“And me?”
Ryan nods.
Sophie doesn’t know what to feel; she knows what she’s supposed to, but she also….
Her hand finds Ryan’s on the couch. “You can’t leave.”
Ryan misunderstands. She says, “I’ll sleep right here; no worries.”
So Sophie scoots closer on the couch. “That’s not what I meant.”
Ryan can’t handle the intensity in Sophie’s eyes. Can’t handle being only a few breaths away from each other. They’ve barely been friends for five minutes, and now Ryan’s what? The rebound?
“You’ve felt it too, right?” Sophie’s hand is back on Ryan’s neck. She doesn’t wait for a response. Just softly guides Ryan to her lips. Into a quick kiss that Ryan doesn’t let herself enjoy. Doesn’t let herself think about.
Then again, if Sophie wants this, who is Ryan to judge? Some people want hugs for comfort, and others….
“Ryan, please.”
For a split second, Ryan looks as gutted as Sophie feels. A rebound like this isn’t even fun. It’s selfish and horrible, and more than Sophie should ask for. More than Ryan should give her. But Sophie Moore has never asked for anything. And now all she wants is this. And if the pulse in Ryan’s ears is anything to go by, then Ryan wants it too.
Ryan kisses Sophie this time. It’s soft and reassuring. Gentle. Ryan has never been gentle with Sophie before. She takes every opportunity to tell Sophie exactly what she’s doing wrong. She lives for it.
Sophie kisses back harder. Tries to tell Ryan with her body that she needs more.
Ryan catches on, and she shifts, disconnecting their lips so she can get off the couch and climb onto Sophie’s lap. Sophie’s breathless, and Ryan’s eyes look so concerned. Sophie surges forward to kiss Ryan again.
Sophie stops thinking after that. Stops remembering and questioning and doubting. She loses herself in Ryan’s lips, in the nip of teeth on her neck, and Ryan’s thigh between her legs, then Ryan’s fingers. It’s safe, and caring, and Ryan’s soft voice, reminding her, promising her, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” as Sophie comes undone.
🦇
🦇🦇
🦇🦇🦇
end note: plenty of emotions here, but the screw the pain away trope is what made me want to post this. (fun fact: this has been saved as 'untitled angst sex fic' for damn near a year. there is technically a part two, but it gets more emotional so idk if y'all want it lol. let me know.) whatcha think?
The wait is nearly over. Join us on Twitter at 8PM ET on Wednesday, and we'll live tweet together during #TheFlash, in hopes of spotting @javicia as some version of Ryan Wilder. 2/8/22 is also the first day of #WildmooreWeek. Check out the prompts and join the celebration using #wmw23! See linktree for more info. #SaveBatwoman #Batwoman https://www.instagram.com/p/CoY4fC5MBti/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
Back from beyond the grave just in time to post for Wildmooreweek. Been watching Batwoman since season two and i’m am obsessed with them. I don’t remember the last time I've been so invested in a ship but these dumb black lesbians got me in my feelings...
I can’t write for shit but since it’s song/quote day here’s a Wildmoore playlist. I like to think of it as a chronicle of their journey so far through songs. Enjoy 🤗
summary: Pre-canon, in Crows interrogation, Ryan sips her coffee. Grins at it before setting it back down. "You got the sugars right too. You pay this much attention to all the girls, or am I special?" + read on ao3
notes: #WildmooreWeek, Day 4: quotes/song ~ inspired by the 2x05 quote, “Sophie has hauled my ass in for questioning so many times she knows my damn coffee order.”
🦇
Sophie kicks the door to the interrogation room closed behind her. The hot coffee in her hand barely even shifts. A normal person would applaud her great sense of balance, but Ryan Wilder isn’t exactly normal. Ryan Wilder is… confusing. Fascinating. There’s more hope in her and earnestness than Sophie’s used to seeing in their repeat offenders. Call it Black girl intuition, or Sophie’s own hope shining through, but she figures there’s gotta be more to Ryan Wilder than covering up somebody else’s drug habit.
Ryan’s uncuffed for this interrogation — a show of faith for yet another non-violent detainment. Her eyes light up at the sight of the coffee. Maybe at the sight of Sophie too. Sophie’s definitely easier on the eyes than the rest of the Crows. You know, for a lesbian. Which, is what Ryan is. Or bi maybe. They haven’t exactly gone through Ryan’s dating history in their last few interactions.
Sophie crosses the room to set Ryan’s coffee down. “I thought we’d skip to this part of the back and forth.”
Ryan glances down at the pitch black drink and says, "Non-dai—“
“Non dairy creamer, yeah." Sophie drops those onto the table from her other hand. "I'd put them in myself, but you'd probably accuse me of poisoning you."
Ryan appreciatively pours the little cups in her coffee. "I wouldn't put it past a Crow."
"Seriously, Ryan?"
Ryan sips her drink. Grins at it before setting it back down. "You got the sugars right too. You pay this much attention to all the girls, or am I special?"
"Is Angelique special?" Sophie asks. "Or are you throwing your life away for just anybody?"
Ryan quirks a brow instead of getting defensive. It’s almost like progress. “Why?” she asks, “You jealous?"
Sophie huffs. "I'm trying to help you, Ms. Wilder."
"Back to Ms. Wilder. Wow, Soph, and I thought we were getting closer."
Sophie rolls her eyes to steady herself. She's been standing this whole time, but maybe if she sits down, she'll be less likely to get in Ryan's face. It's not even a violent urge. A violent one she could understand. But this.... She doesn't feel a lot. Not normally. And especially not for anyone who's breezing through the interrogation rooms.
She makes a point of saying it aloud. "I don't get close to criminals."
"I'm not a criminal," Ryan asserts. Her eyes harden. "I'm only here because your boys thought it'd be easier to haul me in when there a bunch of guys in the getaway car."
"Getting away from what?" Sophie asks.
Ryan squeaks, "I don't know!" She laughs, but the humor comes out ironic and exasperated. "I wasn't even in the area for more than five minutes. My van crapped out, so I was waiting on the bus. Some guys come running -- and I say guys to be gender neutral, I did not see them. I didn't even look up. I was on my phone, calling my girlfriend, when your boys thought I was involved. Want to talk about implicit bias?"
Sophie bites down a sigh. "I'd rather talk about your alibi for the actual crime."
"My van is my alibi. It's a good four blocks from where they picked me up. Battery's dead on the docks."
"Why didn't you call a tow?"
Ryan laughs again. "Do you know how much a tow costs? And then I'd have to pay to get my van out of the garage. And a teaching salary doesn't really cover extra repairs."
Sophie's eyes knit together. "You teach?"
"Martial arts." Ryan turns her cup in her hands on the table. "I'm probably better than you."
Sophie's turn to laugh. "I'm military trained."
"Street smarts versus book smarts."
"There's only one kind of smart."
"Don't say 'smart enough to stay out of trouble.'"
Sophie's cheeks warm. Ryan took the words out of her mouth, but she can't let Ryan know that. "No.... Smart enough... to make the right choice."
Ryan rolls her eyes.
"Listen, Soph--"
"Sophie." She corrects. "Agent Moore."
"Right. I still don't have a ride, and my girl's already at work. I really can't miss the last bus. So, can we skip to the part where you let me go?" She meets Sophie's eyes directly, and for a moment, all Sophie sees is those dark brown almost black eyes. Are they always that dark? What about when the light hits them? When the sun's shining and the sky's a rare bright blue?
Sophie drops her gaze down to the table. If Ryan needs a ride, well.... "You said your van is your alibi?" Sophie checks. Ryan nods. Sophie stands up and glances away before she can talk herself out of it. "Then let's go get your alibi."
Ryan scoffs. Sophie shifts her weight in a way she hopes doesn't feel nervous. She's not nervous. Why would she be nervous? She's given people rides before. It's part of the private security gig. They have nice cars even. Nicer than the van Ryan has probably. Nicer than the Subaru that Sophie's been eying but refusing to buy. (She might as well slap lesbian on her forehead if she starts driving that. And she's not. Not anymore. Not really.)
(And yet, the longer Ryan goes without responding, the harder Sophie's heart pounds. The sweatier Sophie gets under this too hot uniform suit, the drier her mouth gets.) Sophie licks her lips. Then circles them. Then huffs.
"It's a one time offer, Ms. Wilder. Do you want to get your van, or do you want to spend the night in holding while I go see for myself?"
Ryan studies her. Sophie knows because it feels like she's under a microscope. Her heart pounds even faster as her blood pumps with a refrain of sheknows sheknows sheknows. But then Ryan's eyes light up, even if her face stays skeptical.
"You got jumper cables?"
"I'm an adult," Sophie grumbles, "of course I have jumper cables." She turns her back to Ryan, and with that little bit of privacy, she relaxes with the overwhelming relief of the moment.
Ryan said yes.
🦇
end author's note: gah, this might also need a part two. what happens at the van? Idk! it's meant to be canon compliant, but I also just wanna knoooooow.
got it from my mama (whoever she may be) // a Batwoman oneshot
summary: Jada says, “I wish I could’ve been Nia Wilder sometimes. You know, ‘Ryan’s mom.’” + read on ao3
notes: Wildmoore Week, Day Seven: headcanons/future. it's been amazing to see how much people wrote and created and shared this week. Congrats to @wildmooreweek on a great first go! alright, buckle up for some mother-daughter feelings! I fucking love these two.
+ just in case anyone doesn’t know, a kitchen island is the counter in the kitchen when it’s not connected to anything. There are large islands, which are workplaces and open counter space. Pull up a stool/high-backed chair or two, and you’ve got a great place to be.
🦇
Ryan hums when she likes her food. A little groan from the back of her throat, a shimmy of her shoulders, and a flash of the smile that she inherited from her mother. Technically, she got it from her grandfather.
The original Ryan Jet had a smile that shone brighter than any South Gotham streetlight. A laugh so rich that it wrapped around everybody like a blanket. A heart so big that it couldn’t quite fit in his chest. He had to help people. And so does his namesake. The helpfulness — Jada figures — well, it must have skipped a generation.
Jada’s much too ambitious to waste her time helping everybody. She has people who do that for her. People who field her calls, tidy her home, and cook her meals for her. But for Ryan — Ryan Wilder, her Ryan — Jada finds herself back in the kitchen more often than not. It starts with making them teas for check-ins. Then making popcorn and little snacks for move nights in Jada’s home theater. Then, it’s for moments like this — a home-cooked dinner for two in a house that could fit so many more, but finally feels full with Ryan by her side.
That’s much too sentimental to say out loud, so mostly, Jada tries to show it. She forgoes her usual business suits for a casual pair of house pants. She skips past her elegant dining room and sets their food on the island in the kitchen. She hasn’t done that since Marquis was a teenager. Hasn’t craved that closeness with someone.
Now, she savors it. Sits on one corner of the island while Ryan sits on the other, so their knees can bump as they face each other. So she can see what she’s missed. That brings her back to her original thought — her starting point in all of this: Ryan hums when she likes her food, and Jada has no idea how long she’s done that.
“You like it?” Jada asks. Less for an answer and more for confirmation. She knows the stir fry’s delicious. It’s her third attempt. A very well vetted chef coached her through it before she invited Ryan over to try. But she still wants to ask. Still wants to know.
Ryan nods and swallows down the bite before she opens her mouth. (She has great manners. Much better than Marquis’ used to be, but he did things just to spite Jada sometimes.)
“Now you know I’ll eat anything,” Ryan says, “but this is better than anything I’ve got near me.”
“Near you or near Sophie’s?” Jada teases.
Ryan’s cheeks darken just a little. She pushes her food with her fork. “Near me. We don’t… order in much at Sophie’s.”
Translation: either Sophie’s a better cook, or they spend most of their time at Ryan’s loft. Judging by the way Ryan’s face continues to flush, it must be the second. Mary probably doesn’t love that. Probably feels displaced sometimes, unless the girls time it well with her shifts at her clinic. They seem like the type to figure it out though. Find balance in a constantly toppling world.
Jada sips her wine rather than responding. It makes Ryan squirm a little.
Ryan says, “Alright, change of subject, please. You’ve been pretty quiet. Whatcha thinking?”
“Your smile, it’s like mine, but…. God, it’s just like your grandfather’s.” Jada hasn’t talked about him much with Ryan. She doesn’t want to scare the girl away with childhood stories and too many anecdotes. “He had half this city in love with him. You should have seen the ladies at the supermarket.”
Ryan smiles again, and Jada adds, “Kind of like the girls at your bar whenever we stop in there. Just a chorus of ‘Hi, Ryan. Good morning, Ryan. Ryan, look over here.’”
“It’s not that bad,” Ryan lies, but they’ve all seen the effect. Ryan quirks a brow. “You were probably just as bad though. Don’t lie.”
It’s Jada’s turn to smirk and grin. Her eyes shine with the memories of the way the boys at business school bent to her every whim. They still do, if she asks. “You had to get it from somewhere.”
Ryan giggles. “So you were a flirt?”
“I was friendly,” Jada corrects. Ryan’s little sarcastic hum disagrees. Jada knows this train could go somewhere she’s not ready to go. Talk of her husband, and Ryan’s father. They should have that conversation one day, but there are so many others they should have first. Ryan’s favorite color and favorite pastime. Yellow and being an unregulated superhero would be Jada’s guesses, but is she right? What else is there to know? What else has she missed?
“Hey,” Ryan breaks the train of thought. Her brows knit together softly. “Where’d you go?”
Which answer is safer?
Jada raises her wine to her lips, but pauses with the rim to her bottom lip. “I don’t know, I…” could’ve known Ryan sooner, if she’d gone back. Or if she’d stuck to the little dream life they could’ve had. If Jada had taken the two million and her daughter and ran, had stayed under that other name. “I wish I could’ve been Nia Wilder sometimes. You know, ‘Ryan’s mom.’”
Little house in the suburbs, or a cramped apartment like the one Jada grew up in. The clatter of barrettes and the slight singe of a flat iron on a school morning.
Ryan rebuts, “You are my mom.”
Jada shakes her head. “You know what I mean, Ryan. I— we could’ve celebrated birthdays and first dates and… all of it. Together.”
Ryan takes Jada's hands. "We've got plenty more birthdays. And I can tell you about my first date. Ange snuck us into the movie theater but bought a big bucket of popcorn because she wanted to do that 'hold hands in the popcorn bucket' thing from TV. It was mad corny, and we got butter all over our hands and laughed about it."
What did Ryan look like at thirteen? How were her hair and her clothes? How was her heart?
Jada does the same thumb rub that Ryan does so often. Wills her voice to sound lighter, less… like a heavy heel on a metal grate. No echo, no hollowed-out reverb. “Sounds lovely.” It sounds like Jada wants to be there. Like she can close her eyes and peer back into that theater if she just tries hard enough.
Ryan rocks their hands to draw Jada's eyes back up to hers. "You wanna know about a first date you were a part of?” Jada hums her curiosity. Ryan ducks her head to make sure Jada stays with her for a moment. “Mine and Sophie's."
That doesn’t make sense. They were already together by the time they met Jada. “But you said—“
"She said. Then I agreed." Ryan shrugs with a smile that gets wider by the second. "We lied. But that disastrous dinner at your place was our first date. Asked her to be my backup, but come on, you saw what she wore." Jada chuckles. Push-up bra, lowest cut dress anyone has dared wear to meet a parent. Ryan laughs too. "Never thought I'd take a girl home for the first date but, first time for everything, right?"
The first time Ryan’s referred to Jada’s house as home. Jada smiles, and it sparks in her eyes. “That’s some first date.”
“Unfortunately for you, pretty sure I’m not having another of those any time soon.”
Jada really smiles then. “Does that mean I’m planning a wedding?” Ryan reels back, and Jada uses their hands to tug her forward again. “I’m kidding. We’ve got to get your girl to like me first.”
“Keep showing up. Worked for me.”
“I can do that.” More dinners, more breakfasts, more excuses to come ‘round to the loft or take the girls shopping. “I want to do that.”
“Good.” Ryan squeezes their hands before letting go. She grabs her fork like they’ve settled something. Maybe it’s a pact, or a promise. Maybe it’s just the idea that they can talk about these other things that they need to discuss. When they’re ready and when they make the time. “Because I’m gonna need you to make this again soon. Like, tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? What’s tomorrow?”
“Nothing important, but your TV is so much bigger than mine, and the new Love is Blind drops at midnight.”
Jada has no idea what that means, but if it’ll get Ryan here, then she’ll get the ingredients. “Just you or will your friends be joining you?”
Ryan laughs. “Everybody’s coming. We’re gonna make so much noise, and yell at the TV. You’ll see exactly what it’s like to be ‘Ryan’s mom.’”
“Loud?” Jada jokes. Ryan cheeses over at her, and Jada smiles back. “I can’t wait.”
“Okay, now tell me more about you being a flirt. Don’t think I forgot about that. I wanna hear all about it.”
🦇
end author's note: I love them so much. okay, let's chat. whatcha feeling?
