Chapter Text
It is a coin toss which way this will go whenever Agatha Harkness shows up at her personal studio. Rio Vidal is used to this dance. She should not play the game, but she does. It is hard not to when Agatha walks in with high-waisted pants, a loose button-up and well pressed blazer. Her hair is the thing painters long to recreate with thick brushstrokes in oils.
So, she’s got a thing for the woman. Sue her. Actually, please do not, because Rio very much does not want to lose her job. Which is why she shouldn’t keep doing this, because one of these days she is going to get sloppy, and she is going to be tied up in everything when Agatha is caught.
(She should not think about Agatha tying her up, that’s a bad road to go down while she’s trying to decide how to restore this piece. (And trying to decide if it is even a real piece.))
Thankfully, she isn’t sloppy, not today.
“This isn’t in need of restoration. This is a forgery, Agatha.”
“Is it?”
Rio sighs as she moves gloved thumb over the raised surface of the paint, the brush strokes off just enough for her to recognize the difference. It is a game Agatha plays, tests if she will catch it. Teeth pull her lip into it, gnawing lightly on the soft flesh to try to focus as she feels Agatha’s warmth descend upon her.
The woman has so many bad habits. Forgery being the top, but this one—Rio considers at least second or third. Chest pressed against Rio’s shoulder-blades, Agatha smiles to herself. Rio can feel every button of Agatha’s button-up pressed into her spine, and where the heat radiates warmer from Agatha leaving buttons undone.
“Yes, Agatha.”
Rio breathes in as Agatha’s hands traverse down her sides, pushing into her pockets. Fingertips splay against the thinner fabric that separates Agatha from Rio’s thighs.
“Agatha.”
“Rio.”
“I left my wallet at home today.”
Rio can feel the smile grow on Agatha’s features as she settles her chin against Rio’s shoulder. “Can’t blame a girl for trying, Vidal.”
Pulling up, slowly enough for Agatha to move with her, Rio takes a breath. Then, she shuffles, wiggling her fingers, forcing space. “Kale will see through this piece, Agatha. It’s sloppy, even for you.”
A step back, still close enough for body warmth to radiate, Agatha shrugs. “Maybe I just wanted to see you, hon.”
“Doubtful, you did put in the majority of the work—“
Agatha waves her hand. “I got bored.”
“Agatha. You have authentic pieces.” Rio snaps her gloves off, turning. “I shouldn’t be doing this for you. You can’t use me to pre-check your work. If I make a mistake, I could go down with you.”
Smile turns into a full grin. “Oh, I’d love for you to go down with me, or rather—“
“Agatha.”
“Come on, you love it.” Crossing the distance again, Rio sat at her desk, Agatha places a hand onto her shoulder. Her other hand lifts to tuck thumb beneath Rio’s chin. “It’s fun. You like showing off.”
Rio’s nose scrunches as Agatha’s grin continues to shine brightly, all teeth and hunger. Knocking her palm against the other woman’s hand, forcing her to allow Rio curl into herself. The conservator sighs while mumbling words that Agatha cannot make out.
Pulling her hands back, Agatha allows her smile to cool into something softer, something smaller. “Let me take you on a date sometime, sweetheart.”
Rio’s eye roll is all that is offered back as she scooches her chair away from the other woman.
“Fine, fine, at least I did my due diligence. But honestly, come over and have dinner with us again soon, Nicky loves seeing you. He’s been wondering when you’d be by again.” A half-truth, Agatha’s specialty. Nicky does adore Rio, but he hadn’t mentioned her coming over again recently.
Nicholas had been the one to first find Rio. A strange mix-up three years ago back.
-
“Ma’am—you should not let your son wander unattended.” A sharp voice roused Rio from her staring contest with a piece the museum had recently acquired. She had been considering the work her colleague had done on it, but the thoughts were flushed down the toilet as a child made its way into her view.
“I—“ Rio did not have a chance to get out the ‘what’ as the young boy was slotted next to her, and the blonde who had found and left him with her—was already walking away.
Large hazel eyes stared up at the conservator, fluttering before a grin cut across his face. “Hi, I’m not supposed to talk to strangers.”
She was not his mother. “… I—we should find your parents.”
Hand looped through Rio’s, the boy smiled wider to himself. He hummed a tune under his breath as he swung their joined hands. (She could not deny that he did look like her when he smiled with teeth, which was unsettling. Was he her doppelganger, meant to take her place? That’d be interesting.) “I’m Nicky.”
“You just said… You shouldn’t talk to strangers, but.” Rio breathed in deeply. “Sure. I’m Rio. Let’s find your parents, Nicky.”
“My mama.” Nicky tugged on Rio’s hand, leading her forward. “She’s dropping off some of her pieces, and I’ve seen those. So, I wanted to see the paintings out here.”
Finally, some sentiment of stability had found its way back into her bones, and Rio nodded. “Alright, but let’s find your mama, and then maybe she can take you to look at the paintings after.”
It turned out that said mama was a woman who looked very, very good in suits and had a mane of chestnut hair. Rio instantly felt her fingers twitch with desire to touch. A woman who also did not look pleased with her child that had disappeared from her side.
“Nicky! Don’t ever do that again. I’ve told you before you can’t wander off alone.” Eyes swept over Rio’s form as she gathered her son in her arms. “Who knows who might try to steal you away from me.”
“I promise I wasn’t trying to steal your child. They’re not that tasty in a stew after their toddler years, so I wouldn’t have any use for him.”
Oh, Rio regretted the words after they came out of her mouth. Hissing and gnashing her teeth at strangers, saying off-putting things to be left to her own devices was her usual modus operandi, but—probably shouldn’t scare a child or upset his hot mother. Probably. Not the best look, most likely.
Her heart stopped when laughter rang out instead of some verbal lashing. Agatha peered over at her through hooded eyes. “Right, no good once they lose that baby fat. Otherwise I’d have to eat you right up, Nicky.”
The boy was alight with the noise too, grinning up at his mother. “Oh mama, this is Rio!”
-
“Earth to Rio?” With a quirk of her lips, Agatha watches as Rio stares into the distance—lost for a moment. She enjoys the time it gives her to examine the other woman. And the time it gives her to move her hand back into place to tuck a strand of hair behind Rio’s ear, having gotten loose from her up-do.
“Oh—sorry. Yes, dinner with Nicky. I’d love to.”
Nodding to herself, Agatha tucks her hands into her own pockets. “Good, he’ll be happy to hear it, and I can show you what I’ve been working on.”
Eyebrows descend and Rio’s mouth flatlines as she points over to what Agatha had brought in.
Batting away the unspoken thing, Agatha rolls her eyes. “A personal piece, Rio. I still paint other things, after all.”
She even showed, when she had a series worth hanging. Lilia always made room for her at her gallery. Even when she was younger, and the majority of her work had been nude works of the women she slept with (and broken the hearts of)—Lilia had always been accommodating. Except for that one time one of said women came to a show with rotten eggs—Lilia hadn’t loved that.
“I’m surprised you have the time, Agatha.”
Agatha had plenty of time. She didn’t even have to spend her time testing her luck with forgeries. Her mother’s death and her great uncle’s account ending up in her name had left her comfortable enough (on top of the lucrative art collection). She didn’t even sleep with and break the hearts of women anymore, which left a lot of time. She’d given that up when she had decided to chase the chance of having a child, and hadn’t picked it up since she had Nicholas.
“Oh, I always find time for things I love to do.” Winking, Agatha gathers the offending forgery to shove it back into the portfolio she’d carried it over in (no longer needing to pretend and take care of the piece). “I’ll text you the details about dinner, Rio. Tomorrow. Keep it open for us.”
-
Dropping her blazer at the door along with the black portfolio case, Agatha grins as Nicholas rounds the corner. “Hey, kid. Have you behaved for Mrs. Hart?”
“Mrs. Davis said I was very, very well-behaved today, mama.” (It’s true, her boy is an angel. Nicholas loves life, and has a tender heart.)
“Rio’s coming over for dinner tomorrow, because you’ve mentioned you want to see her again.”
Nicholas’ features school together, frowning before settling on something bemused. “No, I haven’t mama.”
“You must have.”
“If you want to see her, you can say that, mom.” Nicholas rocks back on his heels, eyes glittering.
Agatha sticks out her tongue, to which her son replies in the like. She had! She’d very openly asked her out on a date, thank you very much Nicholas. She has been trying that for the last year and a half.
Rio’s just—not willing to indulge in the obvious play aspect of what could be a very good work and play relationship. On more than one occasion she has even accused Agatha of attempting to corrupt her, which Agatha would gladly do, if Rio would actually give her a chance and let her. Give her some credit, please Rio.
The woman likes her damn job too much. Agatha likes that Rio likes her job, but she takes it far too seriously. Agatha hasn’t gotten caught (and won’t). Even before Rio, she hadn’t slipped up once. The obvious brushstroke errors, the wrong paint and sediment—that’s intentional, those are for Rio, so she can pick up on something, call her out now and again. Rio worries too much.
And it’s not like she’d sell Rio out if she was caught (which she never will be, as stated above). Rio’s just helping make sure the pieces that need it are properly restored, that’s all. Agatha’d rather sell out Jennifer anyway.
Though now that she thinks about it, sharing a cell with Rio would help her situation… Okay, Agatha figures she’ll put a pin in if she will or won’t sell Rio out. She has to consider her options. Conjugal visits are also a possibility. But she’s not going to be caught. She can’t be, for Nicholas’ sake. And because she’s far too handsome for prison.
Tapping her lips with her fingertip, she shrugs. “So, what do you want to have for dinner, Nicky? Since you wanted to see Rio so badly.”
Author’s Notes: I know the bare minimum about art conservation, art authentication, and art forgery (ie: I know that they are things people can do.:) )—sooooo, this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously. This idea just sort of hit me on the head out of nowhere and I had to throw it down. But I am having a really good time writing it, so expect more soon.