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The thought of Ruby in the kitchen was one that might have given Mrs Digby a heart attack some decade or so ago. Hardly surprising given the griping she had endured, she’d tell you. But she was too elderly now to complain about Ruby’s house-making capacities, and besides, little Miss Redfort had gotten herself pretty good at cooking.
She had a saucepan out on the hob stewing some beef and tomatoes into something for dinner, and was about to prepare some kind of vegetable-y side dish to fulfil the eternal wisdom of Consuela Cruz that dominated her head every time she set about trying to avoid vitamin deficiencies.
A salad might be good. Just the other day Clancy had picked up some nice ripe bell peppers and a head of lettuce. That with a little vinaigrette on top would be almost delicious enough to excuse what it was. Ruby went to the fridge and rifled through the vegetable drawer, tipping a whole net of onions across the counter as she searched.
“Clance?” Ruby yelled out, “do you know where those peppers went?”
“Huh?”
“The ones you bought on Tuesday. I’m trying to make a salad but our fridge is pepper-less.”
There was silence from the lounge. Not quite – something was being eaten in there. Slow, slightly crisp chewing.
Feeling sure she had an answer – call it a hunch – Ruby walked around the corner to see just what Clancy was up to. Her best friend of far too many years was sat with both feet on the edge of the sofa, hunched over a paperback with a bell pepper in his hand. Half-eaten, like one would normally eat an apple. Unlike a normal person, who would choose to eat apples.
“What the fuck is wrong with you,” she smiled exasperatedly. Clancy’s mouth upturned in a supressed grin.
“I’m getting my nutrients?” he said, inflection turning the statement into a question.
“Yeah, well shucks Clancy, I was going to make sure we could all get our nutrients and turn it into a group eating situation, you know?”
“If I’d been aware of your culinary plans, rest assured I would not be eating this right now.”
Of course she believed him. What else was there to do?
“No worries then,” she breezed, walking back around the corner to check on her stew-adjacent main. “We can just have some iceberg and balsamic, how’s that sound?”
“I won’t lie to you Rube, not the most appealing. I’m almost sorry these peppers were so good.”
“Peppers plural?”
That guy was the worst sometimes. The silence that followed said more than words ever could.
Ruby muttered as she stirred their dinner. “I ought to let you starve.” A large gob of reddish oil bubbled out of the pan and landed splat on the waist of her blouse. Just typical. Blot that right away child or you’ll be smelling of sauce for a year, advised the Mrs Digby in her prefrontal cortex. Yeah, Mrs Digby would have plenty of reason to sigh over her shoulder if she was here.
But fortunately, Ruby and Clancy’s third housemate was not Mrs Digby. It was Elliot Finch, that scrawny guy from seventh grade who had turned out tall and charming and surprisingly good at paying rent on time. He’d stuck around longer than either of them expected, but to no complaints from either.
Their apartment had two bedrooms, as you’d expect for a house containing a couple and a friend. One dominated by ties and pants, two bottles of cologne on opposite sides of the dresser, and one mostly filled with women’s attire, books stacked upon books, and a vast shelf of collected vintage telephones. The gender split was pretty clear to all. There was nothing unusual about that though, of course – it’s the women who always take up the most space, any guy would tell you. Hardly surprising that Clancy’s belongings are invisible alongside all that feminine clutter.
And if the single pair of slacks down the side of Ruby’s radiator never moved, well then, you’d be the weird one for noticing that, wouldn’t you?
“When’s Elliot getting home?” Ruby asked the guy she was purportedly dating.
“Not sure. Think he said around six.”
“Dinner should be ready then, so that’s perfect.” Whatever it was she’d managed to cook was smelling mighty delicious, and she had no doubt it would only continue to do so for the few minutes remaining until Elliot’s return. Then again, Elliot Finch was master of very little by way of time-keeping.
Not that Ruby could herself complain. Just last week she had stumbled thirty minutes late into a Spectrum meeting with LB, and had received another of many lessons in her life about the value of punctuality. Somehow she felt it would not be the one to instil that great quality in her at last. However, Ruby did at least now give as well as she got – the week prior, LB had to be reminded that it was Ruby’s turn to debrief an agent, and the now almost even footing between her and her boss still made Ruby smile.
There was plenty Ruby was not in charge of. She still ranked typically among field agents in terms of superiority, although she had been witness to the numbers – arguably completely illegitimately – that declared she was among the best in the team. Not that that mattered. Slowly but surely, group work mentality had infiltrated her priorities and Ruby was now pretty good at sharing the load and making sure she didn’t attempt any daredevil exploits for the sake of being the one to do them. Pretty good didn’t mean always, though. Ruby probably still ended up in front of LB with “I can explain” on her lips more frequently than anyone else in Spectrum 1.
Still, she was in a better position than Clancy. He’d spent the last half decade since high school trying desperately not to fall into the family business of smiling eternally for cameras, to varying success. He, and subsequently Ruby, were still kind of in the eye of Twinford’s socialite crowds, but at least he had her as emotional support at the events he just couldn’t wriggle his way out of. Ruby didn’t mind the chance to dress up, although the number of times they ended up calling a cab to take them home early was not inconsiderable. A quick squeeze of the hand and they were dust. There was only so long one could act the perfect couple in public before needing to go back to just being friends.
The front door opened and a grinning man with dark hair walked in, removing his coat and remembering to hang it neatly for once.
“Hey Rube,” he greeted her as he came into the kitchen. “Whatever you’re up to in here is smelling spectacular.”
“Here’s hoping it holds up to a taste test,” she grinned back. “How was work?”
“Ah, you know how it is,” he grumbled jovially, “always more to do than I can manage. But the team says hi and thank you for letting them keep me on late.”
Clancy walked in, pepper and paperback forgotten. “Wouldn’t want to keep the family waiting,” he smiled to Elliot, wrapping him in a hug and pecking him on the lips.
“Why don’t you lay the table for us, Clance?” Ruby asked, eager for the smooching not to last too long. Her best friend disentangled himself from his partner and opened up a drawer.
They had somehow fallen into this little arrangement. Hardly a surprise, looking back, but still it kind of amazed Ruby that it had worked out quite so neatly. Clancy had his lover for social events and his lover for ordinary days; Elliot had a bachelor pad and a cosy space with his boyfriend; and Ruby got two boys who wanted nothing more from her than friendship and the occasional home-cooked meal. She hadn’t escaped housewife territory entirely, but when it was the reward at the end of a day’s mission rather than the default setting, things settled pretty sweetly.
“How’s it been at home?” Elliot asked Ruby, poking at the magnets on the refrigerator. “Any fun news?”
“Clancy ate our chance at a partially delicious salad so we are stuck with lettuce sans accoutrements, but aside from that, no drama.”
“Come again?”
Clancy sighed. “I ate part of Rube’s planned dinner.”
With a grin, Elliot reached over and stroked his hair. “Hey, it happens. And I don’t know if I’m gonna want anything extra with that- that… What is it you’re making, Rube?”
“I’m tentatively calling it stew, although whether it achieves all definitions of stew is beyond me.”
“Well, it looks fantastic, so I’m happy to say salad isn’t needed anyway.”
“Finch, you know I can’t be letting you go a whole day without some greenery.”
“Sure you can! I had an apple on my break, and you know what they say about doctors and apples.”
“I’m willing to bet they’re just as phobic towards other vegetable matter too. Plus I’ve chopped the lettuce already, and I’m not eating it alone, buster.”
“Fine, you’ve twisted my arm,” Elliot laughed.
They seated themselves at their little four-chair table, Ruby dishing them all up a portion and setting the salad bowl right next to the lovebirds. Clancy began an anecdote about an article he’d read recently, and as he rounded it off, Elliot gestured to Ruby’s wrist.
“Your watch is flashing.”
She glanced down quickly. “Oh yeah, the battery’s on the fritz. Gotta take it to a guy sometime soon.”
In fact, the battery had never worked better. Old Bradley Baker’s watch had had many an upgrade over the last few years, one of those being a reflective screen to mask incoming messages from those not directly looking over it. As discreetly as she could, Ruby fiddled with her fork and took a look.
HEAD TO HQ BEFORE 1900. BRING GALOSHES.
Man, LB just loved to spoil her appetite. And her socks.
She cast Clancy a furtive glance, tapping her watch face on the table as she reached for an all-too-final mouthful of her dinner. It really wasn’t a stew, but she’d have to write down the ingredients she’d used – it was amazing. Too bad she wouldn’t get to savour more of it.
“Say Ruby, are you sure tonight’s not when you’d promised to eat with your parents?” Clancy asked, rehearsing one of their many excuses.
“No, that’s next Tuesday.”
“I could’ve sworn you said it was the fourteenth you were meeting them.”
“Yeah it was—Darn!” She smacked her forehead. “Totally forgot the day. Boys, do you mind dreadfully if I scoot right off? You know how my mom gets about missed invitations.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Clancy said. “It’s just a shame you won’t get to finish this meal with us.”
“A mighty shame,” she agreed.
“We’ll try to save you some, but I don’t know how honestly I can promise that,” Elliot grinned.
“Yeah yeah, enjoy it while I can’t. I’ll just grab my coat and head out.”
Her housemates and best friends waved her away and Ruby quickly went to fetch her last-minute Spectrum kit. The entire thing could slide into the lining of just about any item of clothing, but if galoshes were on the agenda, then Ruby had a feeling that her nice warm coat might also be welcome. Her boots slid into her spare handbag, and then she was out of the door.
Ruby startled in a very un-Ruby-like way at the sight of her mentor and colleague Hitch stood right outside her apartment.
“Jeepers man, couldn’t you give me a warning?”
“Just keeping you on your toes, Redfort,” he said. “Thought you might like the company.”
“If I’d wanted company, I would have ignored LB and stayed in to finish my dinner. I’d even cooked it myself.”
“I’ll make sure to tell Mrs Digby next time I see her, I’m sure she’d send round a medal.”
“Nah, she’s not the rewarding type for bare minimum such activities.”
“You ready for this meeting?”
“You think I’ve even read the minutes, buster?”
“Same old Ruby Redfort,” Hitch grinned. “How are the bachelors?”
“Clance and Elliot couldn’t be happier and neither could I.”
“Glad to hear it. Listen, Zuko wanted to invite you and the boys come around to our apartment for dinner sometime. I’m not one to mix personal and professional, but he offered and I’m reluctant to say no.”
“You sure know how to make a prodigy and her deviant housemates feel welcome.”
Hitch chuckled, bumping their shoulders as they walked. It wasn’t really a shoulder bump – he still stood almost a foot taller than her, and in actuality their upper arms clashed.
“The offer stands, and I’m sure you wouldn’t want to disappoint Zuko even if you could care less about impressing me.”
“All those near-death escapes not enough to spark the old imagination?”
“I like sleeping at night Redfort, and the trouble you’ve caused me the last decade is not worth dwelling on.”
She raised an eyebrow and lengthened her step.
“Keep up, old man, and you might end up with some stories of your own worth telling.”
The laughter of both bounced off the walls of Twinford’s streets. Ruby’s watch crackled briefly and she tapped the button on its side.
“Redfort, how long until you and Hitch arrive?”
“I’m just swell Loveday, and how’s the family?”
“You’d better be unlocking the door right now with an attitude like that.”
“We’re swiftly on our way,” Hitch interjected.
“So swift I skipped dinner.”
“You’ll be thankful when you see the case files I’m putting you on next.”
“I’ve got a new assignment?”
“I don’t call you in for fun Redfort. My penchant for bubble-gum doesn’t stretch that far.”
“And here I thought you wanted my sparkling conversation.”
“Talk soon, LB,” Hitch said, leaning over and tapping Ruby’s watch himself. “You are a petty so-and-so.”
“I’m indispensable, what else am I meant to do? She enjoys the stimulation of having such a petty second-in-command.”
“I think what she likes more is you keeping your head down and mouth shut.”
“Since when have I done that?”
Hitch shook his head and they carried on walking, smiling.
Maybe dinner was off the table, so to speak. But Ruby had something new to be working on, presumably with her oldest and most trusted ally. LB thought her important enough to demand she skip vital mealtimes in order to be put on the case immediately. She had a home where she could be neither wife nor spinster. Clancy and Elliot would likely wait up for her, and she’d wait for Elliot to head to the shower before telling Clancy of the new developments. And of course, there was always Spectrum. The place that had showed her what a woman like her could do.
Life was pretty swell, actually.