Chapter Text
Agatha Harkness took office on a Wednesday in July. It was significant for many reasons. The peak of her political career, everything she had ever worked for. To Agatha though, she would forever remember it as the day she met Rio Vidal.
The car pulled up at Number 10 amidst a sea of flashing cameras, journalist chatter, and cheers from her loyal supporters. She watched them through the blacked out window, adrenaline pulsing through her veins. She took a deep breath, steadying herself, before the door swung open and she was greeted by a wave of light and sound.
Throwing on a smile, she exited the car stilettos first and waved to the crowd before her.
“Prime Minister, over here!”
“Congratulations, Ms Harkness!”
Agatha had to admit, the attention was intoxicating, but she couldn’t bask in it forever, there was work to be done. She tossed her hair over her shoulder and made her way inside where she was greeted by her longtime friend and advisor, Jen, who pointed at her, chuckling in disbelief.
“You actually did it.”
“Damn right.” Agatha smirked. “I never doubted myself.”
Jen rolled her eyes. “Would you like to meet your household staff?”
“Lead the way.”
Jen walked them through the entrance hall into the next room where a long line of suits awaited her presence. Agatha shook hands with each and every one as Jen introduced them by name and occupation. They were all desperately polite, clearly intimidated by her, as was often the way.
Finally, she reached the end of the line.
“And this is Rio. She’s new, like you.”
Agatha turned her attention to the woman, Rio, and felt her stomach drop. She was gorgeous. Much too young for her, a dangerous glint in her eye, but unbelievably fucking gorgeous.
“Ma’am,” Rio said, a touch sarcastic, a trace of a smile.
“Pleasure to meet you, Rio.”
Rio pushed her tongue against the inside of her cheek. “Likewise.”
As Agatha turned away, she could feel her heart racing, more than it had been when they’d announced her win.
She was fucked.
Agatha’s first few days at Number 10 flew by in a whirlwind of phone calls, briefings and speeches. Although she had anticipated the chaos, it didn’t make it any less tiring. By the time Monday morning rolled around, the adrenaline was beginning to wear off and the exhaustion was setting in.
It was her first meeting of the day and the wallpaper in the conference room was becoming increasingly interesting, her eyes beginning to glaze over as she tapped her pen repeatedly against the desk. She would kill for some caffeine right now.
“What do I have to do to get a decent cup of coffee round here?” She muttered.
As if by magic, there was a sudden knock at the door and the refreshments trolley appeared, quietly wheeled in by her. The fellow newbie. Rio. She looked good. Tailored black trousers that flattered her figure beautifully, and a short-sleeved white shirt.
Their eyes locked across the room and Rio’s lips quirked, nodding her head at Agatha in acknowledgement, before returning to her task.
Agatha’s gaze followed Rio around the room as she placed cups in front of each cabinet member. Occasionally, she would glance up and catch Agatha staring, but Agatha refused to look away.
“What do you think, ma’am?”
Her attention was finally dragged away from the other woman.
“I stand by what I said earlier,” she replied, grateful she was paying just enough attention to grasp what was being asked. “The proposal put forward by Mr Daniels seems to be the most sensible option-"
She was interrupted by an arm brushing against hers, a chest pressing against her shoulder and the scent of something earthy invading her senses. A hand appeared, depositing a cup of coffee in front of her, and Agatha noticed a tattoo, delicate vines and leaves wrapped around the forearm.
She heard Rio’s voice, deep and soft beside her ear. “You look like you need this.”
Agatha all but shuddered at Rio’s breath against her skin.
The media often accused Agatha of being heartless. Fifty years old and no man by her side. She must be a nightmare to date, she must send them running for the hills. Granted, she did terrorise men, but that was just a hobby.
She saw no point in coming out. Her career kept her too busy to date in any serious capacity; a few flings here and there, nothing worth shouting about. It was easy enough to keep things private. Besides, a female Prime Minister was newsworthy enough for some, God forbid she be a lesbian too.
However, contrary to popular belief, Agatha Harkness did feel things. She was certainly feeling things right now.
“Ma’am?” Someone asked.
Agatha realised she had stopped talking. What had she even been saying? Something about a proposal. Daniels. “Right, yes," she said, sitting up straighter. Get it together, Harkness. “Mr Daniels’ proposal would be my first choice.”
“Excellent. Now let’s talk education.”
Agatha chanced a quick look around the room, realising that Rio had left. She sighed, a troubling combination of disappointment and relief, before remembering her coffee. She reached for it and took a sip. It was exactly how she liked it.
Later that same day, Agatha was in her office, grateful to be alone at last. There was more to be done than she had initially realised. The previous government had been a complete shitshow and there was a huge mess to clean up. Agatha had no concerns about her capability though, nobody was more qualified and nobody was more determined.
There was a knock at the door and Agatha called them in without even looking up.
“These have just come through from the treasury.”
Agatha’s gaze lifted then, drawn by that familiar voice.
Rio dropped the files on her desk, a green post-it note with the words ‘for Agatha’ stuck on top.
“And these.” She placed a tray with coffee and biscuits in front of her. “Are for you.”
Agatha’s attention skipped over the offerings and landed squarely on the woman in front of her. A thrill ran through her at getting to see her up close again. Her hair was up now, a few dark tendrils curling around her neck. A small silver skull hung on a thin chain around her neck. She wanted to tug on it. Pull her closer.
“I was hoping you’d win,” Rio said. “I wouldn’t have given the good biscuits to that other guy.”
Agatha blinked and pushed her glasses up her nose. “Well. In that case, I’ll try to stay on your good side.”
“I don’t think you’ll have to try very hard.” Rio smirked.
She looked smug almost, knowing she’d caught Agatha off guard again, knowing that nobody else would speak to her like this, joke with her… flirt with her? Agatha wanted to kiss that look right off her face.
She didn’t get a chance to respond. Whatever game they had going on here, Rio was somehow already winning.
She nodded at Agatha, bidding her farewell. “Ma’am.”
Unfortunately, one of Agatha’s new duties as Prime Minister was to host the US president for an official visit. The visit spanned multiple days, with meeting after meeting, private talks, press conferences, photos, the full works. The work itself Agatha could handle, she was no stranger to foreign policy, but the president was a vile little man who spent half his time patronising her and the other half hitting on her. It didn’t help that his ideas were also atrocious.
Their last press conference hadn’t exactly gone smoothly. After a day of thinly veiled misogynistic comments, he proceeded to tell the press how special their relationship was and how positive their meetings had been, before going on to announce a new proposal that Agatha certainly hadn’t agreed to. And well, Agatha was never very good at biting her tongue.
Alone at last, Agatha sat in the lounge adjacent to her office, cross legged on the couch and scrolling through the latest news headlines on her laptop. The press were apparently more critical of her for standing up to the dickhead than the dickhead himself.
“Knock knock.”
Agatha glanced up to see Rio, silhouetted in the doorway. She beckoned for her to come in and Rio presented a tray with a flourish, placing what looked like a gin and tonic on the coffee table in front of her.
“Thought you could use something stronger this evening.”
Agatha hummed in response. Perhaps this day was finally looking up.
She didn’t try to hide the way she looked the younger woman up and down. Rio was wearing a skirt today, a departure from her norm, and a fitted black shirt with a low neckline, only just this side of appropriate, that had Agatha’s thoughts sprinting a thousand miles a minute. Her usual skull necklace sat against her sternum, glinting in the lamp light.
Rio moved as if to go and something in Agatha compelled her to speak. “Rio,” she called. Rio stopped and turned to face Agatha again. “It is Rio, isn’t it?”
That’s it. Act like you haven’t been thinking about her non-stop for the last month and definitely haven’t got her name, face, body and attitude committed to memory.
“Yes, ma’am,” Rio said, with a mock salute.
Oh, she was cute.
“Your surname?” Agatha wasn't even sure why she was asking, she just wanted to talk to her. To know her.
“Vidal.”
“Vidal,” Agatha repeated. “Is that Spanish?”
“Si, señora.”
And she was fucking hot too.
Agatha’s laptop chimed, a link from Jen to another scathing article, this one from an American news outlet. The headline called her a witch.
Agatha spun the laptop around and pointed to it with a raise of her brow. Rio chuckled. Agatha smiled and placed the laptop on the coffee table. She unfolded her legs and stretched them out, reclining back against the couch. She fixed Rio with a look. “Tell me. Rio Vidal. Do you think I was too harsh on the president today?”
Rio laughed again, shaking her head. “You want my honest answer?” Agatha nodded. “I don’t think you were harsh enough. He’s an asshole.”
Agatha gestured wildly, as if to say ‘exactly’.
“I found your comments quite refreshing actually,” Rio admitted and Agatha hummed in something like acknowledgement or appreciation.
Agatha ran a hand through her hair. Rio’s eyes followed the movement. “I like you, Vidal.”
Rio blushed ever so slightly, but enough for Agatha to notice. Finally, a tiny crack in the bravado. The game was well and truly on. One point to Agatha.
Rio retreated to the doorframe. “Te veo, Agatha.”