Chapter Text
“Madam Harkness, there’s a- uh- waiter here to see you?” Agatha’s assistant informs her, poking his head around the office door.
“A waiter?” Agatha sighs, lifting her head from the mountain of paperwork in front of her, fixing the teen with a sharp look, eyebrow raised in confusion, “Billy, I never know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
Billy visibly winces at her tone, looking around anxiously. “I’m sorry, Ma’am, I didn’t totally catch what he said when he came in, I was on my phone- not slacking off or anything, I was just checking my emails because the Wifi on my compu-”
He’s cut off by the silent raise of a hand from Agatha. “Billy. Stop rambling. Just send him in for God’s sake,” she groans, letting out a heavy sigh as she returns briefly to her work.
“Yes Ma’am,” Billy responds, eager smile plastered across his face as he ducks back behind the wall, running down the hallway. A few moments later, an old, stout man appears in the doorframe, knocking briefly on the wood trim before entering. Agatha looks up at the sound, placing her pen down as she pushes her glasses onto the top of her head.
“Agatha Harkness?” The man says, smoothing a hand down his grey suit as he approaches her desk.
Agatha studies him with narrow eyes. The universe had already conspired to ruin her morning. She spilled her coffee in the parking lot, ripped her sleeve on the door handle, and the vending machine stole her dollar. So, whoever this man is, she already hates him.
“Yes?” She says flatly. The man opens his briefcase and pulls out a stack of papers, placing them gently on the desk in front of her.
“You have been served.”
Agatha glares down at the papers. She takes a breath as her jaw tightens.
“I’m sorry,” she says through her teeth, “what?” The man clears his throat.
“You have been served,” he repeats, his voice level.
“I heard you the first fucking time,” Agatha snaps, snatching up the stack of papers and flipping through them, so fast she couldn’t catch a single word if she tried, “I mean served for what? What could I possibly be being sued for?”
“The lawsuit was filed by the Coven for Climate organization.” He explains, stepping back like he can physically sense her rage, “They’re claiming your company caused environmental pollution through negligence and is responsible for the resulting damage.”
Agatha drops her head into her hands, “Jesus fucking Christ,” She drags her face upward and fixes him with an exhausted glare. “What’s your name? Fred? Can I call you Fred?”
He hesitates. “It’s Steve actua-”
“Perfect. Fred.” She points a finger in his face. “Listen. I am having the single worst month of my goddamn life. So, if you’re trying to tell me that my company is being sued by some little cock-sucking environmental whores, I might just lose the last thread of sanity I have left.” Agatha yells, voice raising as she slams her hands onto her desk, pushing out of her chair. “Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
Steve is silent for a minute, glancing around the room, unsure of how to respond. “…yes?” He eventually says, bracing himself for impact.
Agatha takes a deep, slow breath in, closing her eyes as she tries to recenter herself. She slowly picks up the papers and extends them towards him. “Take these and get out of my sight.”
“Legally, Miss Harkness, I can’t take them ba-” He begins to object.
“Then just get out!” Agatha snaps, slamming her hands onto the desk, “get out of my fucking office.” Steve turns and flees as fast as his legs can take him, grabbing his briefcase on the way out. The moment he disappears, Agatha throws the file across the room, sending pages flying through the air. She sinks into her chair, elbows on the desk, forehead burrowed in her palms. She stays like that long enough to consider whether faking her own death is a viable career move.
The door creaks open again.
“Are you okay, Ma’am?” Agatha’s eyes fly back up to see Billy poking his head around the door once again, worried look furrowing his brows.
Agatha stares at him from across the room. “…That was not a fucking waiter, Billy.” She seethes.
“Who was it?” He replies, innocently, stepping fully into the doorway.
“A process server. We’re being sued.”
“Ohh, see that makes a lot more sense, because I when I heard ‘serve’ I just assumed he meant like, serve you food or-” His mouth slams shut when he registers Agatha’s fed-up stare. “Right. Shutting up. Sorry.”
“It’s fine, Billy,” she sighs, waving him away, “I just… need a minute.” She whispers. Despite him being a complete moron, she’s always had a soft spot for the boy. It’s why she hired him in the first place- she just felt an instant connection. Billy slips out, closing the door behind him.
Agatha eventually stands, moving around the office to gather the scattered lawsuit pages in her arms. She drops back into her chair with everything in order, starts her computer, and begins typing the name printed at the top of the file.
Coven for Climate.
The website loads. She skims their bland mission statement, their membership info, the donation options.
Then she scrolls onto the “Our Team” page, a group photo filling her screen, fake-ass smiles plastered on all the volunteers.
Her eyes catch on a familiar face amongst the members.
Her breath catches as her stomach drops.
Scanning the list of names to confirm her suspicions, her gaze lingers on three words.
Rio Vidal (President).
“Fuck,” Agatha mutters under her breath, anger building. She reaches over to grab the phone on her desk, pulling it up to her ear as she punches in the numbers to Billy’s extension. She angles her head sideways, balancing the phone between her ear and shoulder, as she uses her free hands to pick up the suit papers. Billy picks up the line.
“What’s up, boss?” His chirpy voice crackles through the phone into Agatha’s ear.
“I need you to set me up a meeting. ASAP.” She ordered as she flips through the stack, scanning for any useful information. She hears Billy searching for a notepad and pencil on the other end.
“You got it,” he mumbles, “who with?”
“Rio Vidal.”
Just saying her name makes her want to throw up. The sound of Billy’s pencil scratching the paper tells Agatha he’s on the task, and she slams the phone down without a goodbye.
For the next couple of hours, Agatha forces herself to read through the paperwork- actually read it this time, not just skim it like before. Every page is a new reason for her blood pressure to skyrocket. Legal jargon, environmental reports, satellite photos, statements from people she’s never met… she feels like she’s drowning in the pages and pages of information that threaten to destroy her company, her reputation.
She drags a hand through her hair for what must be the fifteenth time, adjusting her glasses up and down her nose with no solution. The clock ticks obnoxiously loud in the corner, taunting her.
Billy pops in at one point, shortly after the call, to announce with a grin, “I got the appointment scheduled, Ma’am. She’ll be here this afternoon.” He scurries away before she can snap at him.
She.
As in Rio Vidal.
The name echoes in Agatha’s mind, clouding her thoughts.
The moment Billy leaves, Agatha’s heart picks up its pace, thudding against her ribs.
He spoke to her. To Rio. Her voice was on the other end of that line. Her beautiful, warm, intoxicating, irritating voice. Her palms are sweating, which she hates. Agatha Harkness doesn’t get nervous. She intimidates other people until they’re nervous, not the other way around.
But every few minutes- okay, every ten seconds- she glances up at her office door. Each creak of the floorboards outside, each murmur of voices, each shuffle of footsteps sends shivers up her spine as she awaits Rio’s arrival, which could literally be any second now.
Agatha tries to refocus on the paperwork, but the words blur. She digs her nails into the palm of her hand, and then digs harder, until she eventually looks down at the crescent shaped indents in her skin and forces herself to stop.
She exhales through her nose. Tries to think about pollution metrics instead of the last time she saw Rio twenty years ago.
There’s another sound outside the door.
Agatha jolts her head up so fast she almost strains her neck. She’s not there. Not yet.
But her pulse won’t slow.
Why was she so nervous?
It’s just a goddamn girl.
No need to get all worked up.
Yet she finds herself picking up her phone and swiping to open her camera, wiping away some stray mascara from under her eyes and adjusting her messy waves. She silently curses herself for not straightening it this morning when she hears it- the soft, familiar click of boots approaching down the hallway.
Her spine stiffens.
Billy’s voice pipes up outside the door, “Hi! You must be- um- she’s inside there-”
Agatha makes a mental note to work with Billy on his greetings.
And then that voice cuts through the hall. The voice that immediately transports Agatha back to their college days.
“Thank you,” Rio says. Just two simple words, but Agatha feels it in her chest, in her pulse.
The doorknob turns.
Agatha swallows, sitting up straighter as she forces a blank, bored expression onto her face, trying to mask her nerves.
The door swings open.
Rio Vidal steps into the office like she owns it. Her light wash jeans are cuffed around her doc martens, and a black, worn-looking tank top hugs her curves in all the right places, causing Agatha’s glance to linger on her torso. Her dark hair is pulled back into a short ponytail, curtain bangs framing her bare face. Rio’s eyes land on Agatha instantly as she smirks.
“Agatha,” Rio says, her voice low and husk, curling around the name like she’s tasting it again after all these years.
Agatha feels her stomach flip.
“Rio,” she replies coolly, “come in.” She crosses her legs and leans back, nodding toward the chair across from her in a deliberate show of control.
Rio closes the door behind her, slowly.
She walks forward, her shoes tapping on the floor. Instead of sitting, she stops at the edge of Agatha’s desk.
“You look good,” Rio murmurs, eyes sliding over Agatha as her tongue presses against the inside of her cheek.
Agatha scoffs, crossing her arms tight over her chest with a frown. “You look old.” The lie is unconvincing as Rio chuckles, looking down as she shakes her head.
“Still terrible at bluffing.”
Agatha feels heat crawl up the back of her neck and immediately hates herself for it.
“Why am I here, Agatha?” Rio lifts her gaze up to meet her eyeline.
Agatha slides the stack of lawsuit files across the desk with her fingers.
“You know why.” She glances up at Rio harshly, waiting impatiently for an answer. An explanation. Anything.
Rio only tilts her head, shrugging lightly. “Your facilities are causing environmental damage.”
“So you’re fucking suing me? My company? Where the hell do you get off?” Agatha spits, her voice raising.
Rio’s expression doesn’t change. “I’m not the one suing you. The organization is.”
“You lead the organization,” Agatha fires back, standing up out of her chair to lean in closer, palms flat on her desk. “Drop the bureaucratic bullshit.”
Rio arches a brow. “It’s not personal.”
“Oh, please- everything with you is personal.” The dig just flows out of her mouth, too easily falling back into the routine of their old banter.
For a moment, Rio’s jaw tenses. She steps closer, placing one hand on the desk, while maintaining eye contact. Agatha senses Rio’s hand mere inches from hers, not quite close enough to brush. “You’re endangering a watershed, Agatha. People live downstream. Kids. Families. Not the mention the hundreds of species whose water supply you’re also contaminating. This isn’t about you.”
Agatha’s mouth opens, then closes, her anger building. She hates that Rio still talks to her like she knows better, like she’s fucking superior. In that condescending fucking tone.
After a beat, Agatha finds her voice. “If you’re trying to intimidate me, it’s not going to work.”
Rio leans in just slightly. “Who said I was trying to intimidate you?” She whispers.
Agatha’s throat goes dry. She forces a scoff. “You haven’t changed.”
Rio’s smile is small, a flicker of enjoyment behind her eyes. “And you have?”
Agatha looks away, inhaling as she tries to gather an answer. She needs something controlled, something that will reestablish the correct balance of power in this room. She’s about to open her mouth to utter a half-wit response when she notices Rio’s gaze shift downward.
At first it’s subtle, a slight flicker of her eyes that Agatha wouldn’t have caught if she wasn’t painfully aware of all her movements.
But then her stare settles onto Agatha’s left hand resting near the files.
On the diamond rock sitting atop her ring finger.
Rio’s smirk falters, just for a second- a moment of genuine surprise she fails to hide quickly enough.
Agatha sees all of it.
Rio inhales slowly, regaining her composure before talking. When she finally speaks, her voice comes out soft.
“You’re married?”
She says in disbelief, leaning closer, tilting her head to inspect the ring with narrow eyes.
Agatha swallows hard, throat suddenly dry. “Yeah.”
Rio’s eyes stay on the ring. “What’s her name?”
Agatha freezes. She didn’t rehearse this moment. It hadn’t even crossed her mind that this would come up.
“His name is—”
“HIS?”
The shriek that Rio lets out might as well have rattled the picture frames on the wall, much too loud for an office space either way. Agatha physically jumps, chair jerking behind her as her hand flies to her chest.
“Jesus Christ, Rio!” she hisses, glancing toward the door, fully expecting Billy to come running in asking for the ‘tea’ again… whatever that means. “Would you keep it down?”
Rio ignores her entirely, stepping closer, hands braced on the desk, face twisted in disbelief. “What the fuck do you mean his?”
“I mean,” Agatha says sharply, “my husband’s name is Ralph.”
Rio’s expression twists the moment the name hits her, a flicker of recognition tightening her jaw. Disgust and anger creep over her face before she masks them, leaning back with her arms crossed as she forces herself to push past Agatha’s choice in men.
“What happened to girls?”
Agatha’s pulse spikes with irritation.
“I left that part of my life behind when all my hopes and dreams were crushed,” she snaps, eyes blazing, “thanks to you.”
Rio’s breath hitches- she wasn’t expecting that. Her posture falters for the first time since she walked into the room.
“Agatha, I—”
“No.” Agatha raises a hand sharply, silencing what was most likely going to be Rio’s half-assed apology. “Don’t you dare do that.”
“Do what?” Rio asks quietly.
“Whatever that pitying, ‘I wish things had gone differently,’ bullshit tone is. Just don’t.”
Rio’s nostrils flare just slightly, wanting to get defensive, but she doesn’t back up. Instead, she takes a deep breath and steps around the side of the desk to where Agatha is still standing. Not close enough to touch her, but close enough that Agatha can feel the warmth radiating from her body.
Rio’s voice drops low, her words barely a whisper. “You really married him?” She asks, tone laced with more sadness and pity than she expected.
Agatha doesn’t answer. The words are stuck at the back of her throat, not wanting to come forward. She gives a slight nod instead.
Rio watches her intently.
“And are you…” Rio hesitates for a moment, considering her choice of words, “…happy?”
Agatha’s stomach twists. She looks down at the floor, not having the guts to meet Rio’s harsh gaze, while she grabs the edge of the desk to keep her hands steady.
“Yes,” she sighs, “I’m happy.”
Rio’s eyes flicker with a mix of emotions- skepticism, hurt, shock- before she masks them with a slow exhale through her lips.
“I know you well enough to know when you’re lying’” Rio murmurs, “you’re not happy.” Her gaze drops to the ring again. “Not with him.”
Agatha feels her defenses snap into place. “You don’t know anything about my marriage.”
Rio’s eyebrows lift, questioning. “Don’t I?”
Agatha’s jaw clenches. Her heart is beating too fast. She feels uncomfortably exposed, like Rio is peeling back layers she hasn’t let anyone touch in years.
Finally, Agatha forces herself to sit, because her knees feel unsteady and she’ll be damned before she lets Rio see it. She flips quickly through the files, trying to shift the conversation away from any feelings.
“We’re here to talk about the lawsuit,” she states, flatly. “Not my past. Not my marriage. Not you.”
The air between them thickens. Rio’s silent for a moment, considering, before she moves back to the other side of the desk and lowers herself into the chair. She crosses one leg over the other, leaning back comfortably.
“Alright,” Rio says, voice steady as she folds her hands in her lap. “What did you want to discuss?”
“I want you to drop the suit.”
Rio audibly laughs. “Not going to happen.”
“Rio, look.” Agatha exhales hard, trying to steady herself, “We’re already taking heat from the media about our environmental… issues. Sales are tanking, Billy says we’ve been cancelling?”
“Cancelled.”
“Same thing.” Agatha waves her off, “my point is… I’m already juggling a lot here, my company is basically falling apart underneath me. I can’t handle a lawsuit on top of it. Please.”
Rio bites the inside of her cheek, studying her. The gloss of tears in Agatha’s eyes. The panic tightening her voice. The exhaustion apparent in her shoulders. Something in Rio’s chest cracks, just barely.
“Okay, Agatha…” she sighs, leaning forward slightly. “Here’s the deal. I’ll drop the lawsuit-”
“Oh, thank you!” Agatha breathes, relief flooding her face.
“I’m not done.” Rio’s tone snaps. “You’re going to overhaul your manufacturing so it stops harming the environment. Immediately. And your company will make monthly donations to Coven for Climate to help repair the damage you’ve already done.”
“Okay, deal-” Agatha starts, but Rio raises a finger to silence her.
“And,” she continues, “you, Agatha Harkness, will personally volunteer with us. Every week.”
“Absolutely fucking not.”
“You said it yourself- you’re being cancelled.” Rio shrugs lightly. “What better redemption arc than having your CEO out in the field doing the dirty work? The media will eat it up.”
Agatha hesitates. “…It would be good for publicity.”
“Exactly. And honestly, sweetheart, you don’t have much of a choice. It’s this or the lawsuit.”
Agatha’s jaw clenches. She hates not being in control, but she knows Rio is right. This is really her only option. After a long pause, she groans into her palms.
“Fine.”
A slow smile curls at Rio’s lips.
“Perfect.” She stands up out of her chair and extends a hand across the desk. “Welcome to the team, Mrs. Harkness.”
Agatha bats her hand away, crossing her arms like a sulking child. “You can go now.”
Rio tilts her head, examining Agatha’s annoyance and defeat, before turning and walking towards the door.
“Te veo,” she says, pulling the handle shut behind her, leaving Agatha alone in her office once again as silence fills the room.
She glances at the lawsuit files on her desk, no longer intimidating, a heavy weight now lifted off her shoulders.
And the ring on Agatha’s finger feels like it gained ten pounds.