Breaking the Rules, Acting Like a Fool

[dethorats]

“Fuck.”

“Fuck,” Sarah says again, the word flat and inflectionless as it falls from her mouth. It doesn’t sound like an epithet this way; it’s exasperation and confusion and frustration but all balled up and held inside and tightly leashed.

Jo has a wry twist to her lips that can’t quite be called a smile, not with that much bitter knowingness in them. Her eyes are dark and already resigned and it’s that, the look of defeat, that makes Sarah throw up her hands.

“Alright. You win. I’ll fucking do it.”

Jo’s chin comes up in stubborn surprise, the protest that Sarah doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to already forming on her tongue but Sarah knows this game, has played it too many times before.

“Look,” she says, words a clipped staccato that break in before Jo can try to get in a single take-back. “I told you to tell me and you did. I brought this on myself at least as much as you have. And I know, okay? I fucking know and I go and push you anyway.” She brushes light brown bangs off of her forehead and sighs. “Hell, Jo. Just…”

Sarah’s voice trails off and Jo ducks her head so that the dyed black strands of her hair brush feather-like across her cheek. It’s taking all she has not to tell Sarah it’s okay, to forget she ever said anything. But Sarah will never let it go, not when she’s the reason it’s been forced out into the open, and Jo can’t quite feel guilty enough to squash the spark of excitement and relief that tingles between her shoulder blades as tension eases out of them.

“You gotta give me time, ‘kay Jo? I’ve got to work my way up to it. This isn’t the same thing as all the rest of it.”

The stern look of warning on Sarah’s face, her green eyes fierce and brooking no protest, make Jo bite her tongue and swallow back her argument that it is precisely the same thing, only more. Sarah has her own views on the matter and Jo knows better than to push when Sarah is this concerned. Besides, there hasn’t been an absolute refusal, which – and Jo does feel a little guilty about her subconscious manipulations now – she had known there couldn’t be when she’d let it drag out so long.

“Whatever you need,” she says quietly instead, almost meek except she knows that will only make Sarah mad. “If you have any questions…”

“Yeah, I know where to ask.” Sarah shakes her head, rolls her eyes a little. “And it ain’t you. Not for most of this.”

She fixes Jo with a hard stare. “You aren’t that trustworthy.” Jo can’t keep holding her gaze, not when it’s the truth, and Sarah snorts when Jo’s brown eyes fall away. “Yeah, I know better.”

“Sarah,” Jo starts, gropes for words without quite knowing what to say, what she wants to say. She settles for a heartfelt “thank you” because it’s the thing that fits the best, because even this much is a victory.

“You’re welcome.” Sarah’s face softens and she smiles ever so slightly. She reaches out and Jo can’t help her own smile when she sees the tiny goldfish painted on the surface of Sarah’s thumbnail. The rest of her nails are dark blue and the tip of one grazes Jo’s skin when Sarah strokes her fingers lightly across Jo’s cheek.

“Fuck but you’re impossible, baby.” Sarah grins, cups Jo’s chin and Jo closes her eyes and takes Sarah’s kiss, a faint purr of satisfaction thrumming in her throat.