Chapter Text
This motherfucker really hadn’t stopped talking for 28 minutes. That was impossible, Catra would think. There was no way in this year of our robot overlords 2023 that some shitty dude would think this was acceptable behavior. Did he even have the internet?
But no. Hordak — she was not calling him ‘Mr.’ anything like he’d insisted, and she sure as shit wasn’t calling him ‘Prime,’ like he was the most important thing on Etheria! — had paused Scorpia midway through her presentation of the system she and Catra created to explain to them how it worked. Bitch, are you for real?
Catra must’ve been visibly bristling cause Scorpia subtly snuck her pincer under the conference room table. It was leaning against Catra’s calf and reminding her to stay still for just a minute longer. Hordak had wasted the whole half-hour they’d set aside for presenting the launch so Scorpia could probably just jump in and start the Q and A with the staff in like 45 seconds.
Thank the gods they’d written thorough instructions and done most of the training covertly. It wasn't even her plan; Prime Co’s staff had just kept dropping by her office and begging for support. They clearly all didn't trust him to be any help or know anything of value. Smart folks.
“Internal facing, user accessible, I’m a fucking talentless dick,” Hordak was probably saying. He paused to take a breath, which seemed unnecessary because his eyes were so bloodshot and fiery red that Catra thought he must be on some kind of uppers. Except he was a total fucking pill, dreary and sucking the energy out of every room. He barely even noticed Scorpia jumping to her feet.
“Thank you, uh, Mr. Prime,” she said way too loudly. He didn’t take the signal to sit down and shut up. Admirably almost, but really like a total dick, he began finishing his sentence. So Scorpia just got louder, pushing herself to her full height and really opening up her diaphragm. “That was really... something. Time for questions!”
She looked a little frantic when she turned to the office of 60 of Prime’s highest ranking execs shoved around the table and into corners of the room. They looked like they were all carrying out the end of a long sentence of forced servitude. All desperate weary faces just trying to make it out alive.
No one raised their hand. Beads of sweat were starting to bleed out around the neck of Scorpia’s cornflower blue dress shirt.
Hordak moved to open his mouth again. Scorpia looked to Catra for assistance – a distraction, a question, maybe even the outburst that she’d been swallowing this whole time. The room’s eyes all followed her. Sallow faces hoping she’d save them by taking the brunt of Hordak’s nonsense.
Nope. Catra hadn’t gotten this far by sticking her neck out for other people. If they had to listen to whatever sad, self-serving lies that Hordak wanted to tell for the next 30 minutes, so be it. Her contract was done promptly at 5pm. Pointedly, Catra leaned back in her chair and let her gaze land on her ipad. She didn’t even try to pretend she was checking ‘very important’ work notes, instead going straight to her notifications.
There were a few but nothing terribly important. She wasn’t interested in the missed robocalls or notifications from her annoying team back at the office or the top 10 most-watched movies in her area, thanks. Tapping right on by as loudly as she could with her claws, just so it carried over the sound of Hordak starting up again and Scorpia slumping back into her chair with defeat, Catra stopped on two tiny identical profile pictures. Some girl, cute enough looking, smiling while she stood at the top of a cliff. She looked muscular, biceps bulging in the grey flannel she wore, blonde locks pulled up in a messy bun. Catra could always appreciate a long-haired butch, even if she would have to endure the typical annoying lectures about getting out of the city for a hike that these yuppie types always went on.
Except.
The woman had requested to add Catra on both the networking app that she unfortunately had to keep for work and the hook-up site that she had to keep for her quarterly railing. Who was doing such a deep dive that they could go far enough to find both of those? And who was desperate enough to send this type of subliminal message? ‘Hey, I’m super thirsty and have no sense of boundaries.’ Nah, that’s a red flag.
Catra deleted both requests.
“Just one word,” Scorpia repeated. “Anything. You could have called for a break. You could have made up a question.”
“Always put your mask on first before helping others,” Catra replied and shrugged.
Scorpia threw her giant bag into the back of the shitty sedan they’d rented for this job. They’d specifically requested a larger car but had ended up with a tiny tin can so small that Scorpia basically was sitting on top of the steering wheel.
After popping her much smaller and more reasonable bag into the backseat, Catra jumped in and plugged in her phone, pulling up some music while Scorpia tried to maneuver into the driver's seat. They were out of the hotel’s parking lot and en route to catch their train when Scorpia spoke again. Usually, she talked a mile a minute but dealing with Hordak must have drained all of her energy. At least that would make the ride home more bearable, without her endless personal questions and attempts to bond over trending videos.
“You sure we don’t have time to swing by the house and see my moms?” she asked. “It’s so rare that I’m out this way, you know, cause of all the traveling. And they really wanted to meet you.”
Catra fought the urge to point out that she barely knew Scorpia, so escalating to meeting the parentals was deeply weird. Scorpia was always pushing the boundaries of ‘distant coworker’ to be suspiciously closer and closer to ‘best friend forever.’
“And while I love a very awkward dinner as much as the next girl, there's still work to be done,” Catra explained. She'd turned down offers to join the D’reams the entire time they were there. No way was Catra going back on that when they were almost home free.
“Remember,” Scorpia sing-songed, “all work and no play makes you-”
“Weaver! Weaver!”
Scorpia was interrupted by Catra's phone loudly ringing throughout the sedan's sound system. It wasn’t enough for these stupid new cars to show everyone who's hitting you up, this one had to yell ‘Weaver’ in a robotic voice over and over, like it was screaming ‘danger, Will Robinson!’
Scorpia’s pale face was already filling with dread so Catra saved them some suspense by picking up quickly.
“This is D’riluth,” she said in her most detached voice.
Weaver sounded even colder and inhuman amplified by the speakers, each word soaked with resentment. “Catra. As usual, you’ve completed your assignment and I have yet to receive a final evaluation of the project.”
“The assignment finished 30 minutes ago. Scorpia and I are headed to the train station now and you’ll have your report by COB Friday as we agreed.” Because she didn't even do anything wrong this time – not that she usually did anyway – Catra added, “I’d appreciate it if you managed your expectations based on the timelines that you’ve set.”
There was a brief pause where she thought Weaver might hear her for the first time. Instead, just faintly, Catra picked up the sound of the older woman moving papers on her desk. Not even paying attention.
“When you’re back in the office on Monday, I’d like to have a conversation about your tone.”
Catra set her jaw to bite back what she'd actually like to say. Tersely, she replied through gritted teeth, “Have your assistant set something up in my calendar. Good day.”
Catra hung up without waiting to be dismissed. Five years reporting to Weaver and it was still always about Catra’s tone or her appearance or some other coded bullshit. Just once, it would be nice to receive some feedback on her actual work. You know, the one facet of her life that Weaver actually had domain over. But maybe Catra just dreamed too big.
“You’ve got ice water in your veins,” Scorpia whispered in awe.
Catra settled back into her seat, trying to calm her racing heart. She wished. She wished for once that she was made of pure teflon and Weaver’s fucking digs weren’t a regular occurrence that she was pretty sure were giving her an ulcer.
“Let’s just go home,” she said with a sigh.
When the checkmark next to her message appeared, Adora’s face broke out into a smile. Elizabeth had read her message! That’s good. Great, even. That meant Elizabeth wasn’t in any immediate danger hopefully.
When she told Adora that she’d be working with some particularly tough horses at the farm and she probably wouldn’t be responding to messages, Adora kinda thought she was being blown off. Two whole weeks went by. Then out of the blue, on a particularly sad day when Adora was feeling so down and even Glimmer couldn’t get her out of her funk, Elizabeth messaged and said she was just popping in to say hi and to make sure Adora was taking care of herself. But she was heading back out on the range and couldn’t chat. Another two weeks went by and Adora started to get worried.
What if Elizabeth had been bucked off a horse or-or kicked or something? Trying to search online for her name and the general location she’d given Adora was fruitless. She’d never even shared a last name. In all honesty, she hadn’t shared much at all. They were mostly casual acquaintances who’d just happened to swipe right on each other and started up a conversation. It was all very surface level but they definitely had potential, Adora thought.
The radio silence had her thinking the worst. Glimmer always told her not to catastrophize but so much of Adora’s strength lay in preparing for the worst. She did some more searching, obits, newspapers, records. The two images Elizabeth had shared turned up nothing. Adora was starting to give up hope of ever hearing from the girl again and never knowing what happened until she followed Glimmer’s advice and went looking for someone to date who was closer and more available.
Then today, wading through dozens of dating profiles in Bright Moon, Adora got stopped in her tracks by a photo that looked suspiciously exactly like Elizabeth. This pic was…different. It wasn’t bright and carefree like the two photos she’d posted on her other profile. This was sultry, her eyes sparkling like they were promising both everything and nothing. Her hair was longer and a little shaggy as it leaned against a brick wall, surrounding her gorgeous face in curls. She smirked, pulling at the skinny black tie she was wearing.
Adora had swiped right immediately and went to add her. They were only a 71% match, which wasn’t great, but numbers didn’t matter. Elizabeth was safe! She was also in Bright Moon, though, and that was kinda weird, since she was supposed to live hours away in a small town. What she was looking for was ‘short-term fun’ rather than the ‘casual connection’ tag that had grabbed Adora originally.
Weirdest of all, she went by a totally different name on this profile. “Wildcat.”
From there, it wasn’t too hard to find more, a locked social account. Her work account. It said Elizabeth was a project management consultant and not a horse trainer/rancher but maybe she had free time to take on work on the side. That made her even more attractive. Adora found ambition to be very very sexy.
Practically bouncing in her seat in anticipation, Adora waited for Elizbeth to message back. A minute passed by, then two, Adora staring at the screen, trying to will her phone to suddenly make a response appear.
She could feel eyes on her. Team updates were a time when she was usually most tuned in, full of questions and tips on troubleshooting. Someone was probably waiting on her input.
As predicted, as soon as Adora lifted her eyes from her phone screen, she saw Glimmer glaring at her. Well, not exactly glaring but making a sort of sad but pissed off face.
‘What?’ Adora mouthed as stealthy as she could.
In lieu of an answer, Glimmer looked back at her own device. There were only about half a dozen of them around the table that served as both a space for meetings and for ping-pong tournaments but no one was paying attention anyway. Mermista was reciting stats on Hope Industries’ socials and even she hadn’t bothered to look up from her phone.
Adora sighed. She could only fix one thing at a time. First Elizabeth. Then she’d address whatever morale issue seemed to be affecting everyone around here lately. People were still showing up and mostly doing their job; they just didn’t seem particularly thrilled about it. Even new folks like Bow were skittish and cagey. Mara wanted an office that felt like a place where people could sprout brilliant ideas and rethink the whole industry. And party, just a little. Instead, she got a wake. They did party though. The most enthusiasm everyone showed for the place was at the daily evening cocktail hour.
Adora took a deep breath, a plan already forming. Strike up a new convo with Elizabeth and figure out what the hell was going on. Then use tonight’s happy hour to super subtly ask people why they were unhappy, how to fix it, and approximately what percentage was Adora’s leadership responsible for causing it.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw her screen change as she watched Perfuma drift off into a quiet sleep and Frosta play some kind of matching game. Adora reached for her phone, already knowing it was too late. Elizabeth’s picture was still there but Adora no longer had the option to send her messages. Elizabeth – ‘wildcat’ – had blocked her.
“Okay,” Adora said, trying to keep her voice even and swallow down the confusing mix of emotions in her chest. “Seems like a good time for a break. That’s lunch, everyone.”
“I fucked up royally,” Glimmer said in a whisper that wouldn’t pass for a whisper anywhere except a construction zone. Bow didn’t know where she came from. Literally seconds ago, he saw her across the room, trying to get everyone to clear the conference room table for beer pong.
“Um...hello? Sorry to hear that?” He looked around for support but most of the office was moving stuff around, looking for cups, or pouring beer from the kegerator in the kitchen.
Bow didn’t have many office friends. Since transitioning, he found himself to be a lot more socially awkward. It was weird interacting with men. Especially after one of the guys at his old job made a joke about their colleague and Bow replied sarcastically, “Haha! It’s so much fun to talk about women as objects to make ourselves feel superior.” So most of the men in the office steered clear of him after that, except Kyle, who was always sweet and maybe kinda had a crush on him.
When he left for this job at Hope Industries, he thought things would be different. Pretty much everyone was a queer woman and he was much more comfortable but still…he didn’t really know how to go about making new friends and it seemed like they felt similarly. It was kinda cliquey here. Glimmer only talked to Adora really but she’d make some time for Frosta or Perfuma. Mermista absolutely only talked to Perfuma and sometimes to Sea Hawk. Entrapta never spoke to anyone unless they were ignoring her Slack messages.
People made casual conversation but nothing more. They certainly didn’t come over during cocktail hour and confess anything to him.
Glimmer immediately looked displeased with his non-response. Her face was a little flush and Bow could smell the beer on her already, especially when she leaned closer to whisper, “You’re gonna help me.”
She smelled like lavender. Not too perfumy, but more like she actually was just touching stems of lavender. It was calming enough that Bow almost missed her way-too-commanding tone.
“I am?” he asked, great disbelief in his voice. Sometimes, because Bow smiled a lot and he was kinda chipper, people assumed he had no bite. Those people were wrong.
“You are,” Glimmer repeated, undaunted. She shot a clandestine look around, before poking him in the back until she had physically moved him away from the corner where he was hiding and out onto the patio.
Perfuma must have just been out here because there was a faint hint of weed smell in the air. The daymoon setting over the nearby downtown highrises was nice though. A soothing backdrop to…whatever this was.
There was a slight chill in the early spring air and Glimmer pulled her lilac-colored leather jacket closed over her darker purple shirtdress. She wasn’t wearing this earlier, which meant that she definitely planned this encounter.
He took a sip of his beer while he waited. Glimmer was kinda like a tornado. She often just blew into places, shook things up, moved too fast, and then disappeared quickly, leaving a giant mess behind for someone else to clean up. Usually, it was Adora, who Bow always felt kinda bad for.
With one last look to make sure they had privacy, Glimmer opened her mouth. And then it all just fell out in one breath.
“Adora was so sad and I told her she needed to do the thing. But she didn’t want to. And fine. Fine! Dating sucks so I thought – ‘hey, Glim, you can totally fix this’ and so I did. Except, maybe I’m too good. Is that a thing? Cause I fixed it so well that Adora was really happy and then it all just kinda got out of control and now you have to fix it.”
She paused to take a sip of her drink, a beer twice the size of his.
Nothing, not a single thing she said, made sense to him in any way. “I’m sorry…what?”
“I made an online dating profile, one that I knew Adora would be into because I’m her best friend and I know her so well.”
“Uh huh…” he said with a nod, trying to encourage her to maybe actually share some details in there instead of assuming that all of the facts that lived in her head also lived in his.
“And I sent Adora a message so she could make a new friend and grow some confidence.” Bow was starting to get an idea of where this was going. But if he was right, the lack of shame in Glimmer's voice was a little disconcerting.
“Why would you do that?” he asked.
And then he answered his own question. Because she's Glimmer and she thinks she knows best, against all wisdom and good judgment, that’s why. Like when she decided that the company should make themselves more available by showcasing their work culture online and the board had a fit when they saw digital proof that they were basically running a multi-million dollar frat house. Mara had to rush in to smooth everything over.
Except Mara wasn't here right now and there was no one to save Glimmer from herself.
“Because sometimes I just care too much!” she screeched quietly. “I was trying to help. And Adora was starting to snap out of her funk but then she had to go ruin it by trying to meet the girl in person.”
“You have to end this now,” Bow told her. He had known Glimmer all of 59 days but he was certain of two things: whatever she was doing here has to stop. And also that she wasn’t going to listen.
“I tried! I made up some absurd excuse about how ‘Elizabeth’ was so busy and did a classic fade-away. Only now, Adora's found the real girl and fucked everything up.”
“The lack of personal accountability you're taking here is, quite frankly, terrifying,” Bow replied. “More importantly, this seems like a mess that you just need to confess to Adora, not me.”
He thought about wishing her luck at least but he really shouldn't be encouraging this kind of behavior. So Bow tried to gently maneuver past her to re-enter the building.
“You know her,” stopped him in his tracks.
“...wha?”
“I thought I was choosing a photo of a random girl. Cute but also hot. Striking enough to catch Adora's attention but still approachable. I went to my socials, searched for queer women in the area at least a couple folks removed, and borrowed a couple photos. Then I made up this dumb backstory that I knew Adora would absolutely eat up. And it worked! Adora immediately added her and started chatting her up.”
“Oh, that's terrible.” He winced, hearing how judgy he sounded. “I mean, I'm sorry but nope, that was a terrible idea. Terrible plan. Terrible execution. Just all around not good, Glimmer.”
“Or is it perfect?” She tried smiling as if putting on a brave face would save this.
“It's really not.”
Glimmer's shoulders slumped. “Fine. It wasn't great-”
“It was terrible.”
“-but it would've worked out okay. The girl fades away, Adora feels more confident and actually goes out and meets someone.”
Bow blinked at her twice. There was this awful feeling that something else was happening here, just bubbling in the pit of his stomach. “Except?”
For the first time, Glimmer actually looked bashful. “Except. She wasn't removed enough. I might have maybe seen her before and just accidentally kinda... chosen someone who was subconsciously familiar?”
Bow realized he was holding his breath when, “Who?” came out strangled.
“Your bestie. The cute one on all your TikTok videos.” Glimmer tried to hide it but she was clearly actually embarrassed about this, fidgeting and turning even redder.
But oh no. No. Just nope. Anyone but-
“Wait. You follow me on TikTok?”
“Yes!” Glimmer blushed.
“Why?”
“The point is...she seems great. Kinda rude sometimes but Adora could use that. And funny. She does little dances with you and everything.”
Those things were all true. None of them negated what a horrible idea this all was.
Glimmer cleared her throat. “So.”
“So…?”
“How do you make this happen?”
“Me?!?!”
“Yes,” Glimmer sighed. “You’re the only one who can do this. You’re the only one who knows them both.”
“The most I’ve ever said to Adora was ‘does this print double-sided?’ And my friend-” he paused. He didn’t really need to share any private details about the most fiercely private person he knew. “She hasn’t consented to this. I mean, no one has consented to any of this.”
“Because they don’t know about it! But if they did, and they had chose this, they’d be ecstatic.”
Bow felt his face crinkle at the brow. “So basically if every single thing was different about the circumstances?”
Glimmer narrowed her eyes. “Listen. I did a very misguided but well-meaning thing. And I think it was actually genius. So you’re going to help me fix it. Okay?”
Bow threw back the rest of his beer before turning to leave again. That was enough of this party. This was a great time to pack up and just head right home and forget he ever heard any of this.
“Please,” Glimmer begged. When he looked back, she’d completely deflated, eyes cast to the floor. “Alright, what I did sucked. I do a lot of impulsive dumb things. I’m still a work in progress! But I’m trying and I love my friend.”
Bow sighed. It was easy to have some sympathy for Glimmer. She probably did mean well, she just...wouldn't know how to do the right thing even if it had a beeping red button. And she had no self control. And she probably hadn't been told ‘no’ a lot in her life.
“You did a bad thing,” Bow explained to her. He tried to sound as kind as possible. She wasn’t a bad person, just a complicated one. Everyone made mistakes. “But no one wants this. And even if they did, my friend barely lives here. It'll never work out. Just shut it down and walk away, okay?”
For a moment, it looked like she might argue. Finally, Glimmer’s purple eyes softened. There was something tender about her that almost made the air around them change. Suddenly, she wasn’t the co-worker who terrorized everyone by creating new projects that inevitably ended up on everyone’s plate until they wanted to throttle her; instead, Glimmer just looked like a sweet dork who definitely did not understand the correct way to make friends. She probably hadn’t had many before. The bleeding heart in Bow wanted to give her a hug but that didn’t quite feel appropriate for someone he barely spoke to.
“Okay,” she parroted back. In a flash, she had that insufferable determined look in her eyes again and the urge to embrace her was completely snuffed out. “But maybe-”
“No,” Bow said firmly. Once more, he told her, “Shut it down. Please.”
This time, when he made up his mind to leave, he didn't give Glimmer a chance to yell out some dramatic revelation. He just ducked back into the building in a couple of long steps, hoping no one noticed his absence.
He was lucky there at least. Most of the office was still gearing up for games, laughing and tittering on the edge of tipsily yelling at each other. There were a couple folks missing, but it was just the ones who usually kept to themselves or headed home early. Bow had been pushing himself to be a little social despite his reservations; now he was considering following Frosta’s lead and taking off promptly at 6pm everyday. She didn't seem to be missing out on any key team-building opportunities by skipping cocktail hour. Except trolling Sea Hawk and there was plenty of time to do that during the workday anyway.
Eyes flitting between the giant cliched world clock over Sea Hawk's reception desk, the door, and his colleagues, Bow began formulating an exit strategy. He was prepared to leave all of his belongings behind if necessary, even though it would be nice to play games on his tablet while he cooked. It was plugged into his computer and any steps beyond grabbing his coat felt risky.
He tried to blend in with the wall while sneaking over to his workstation. Bow made it a whole two feet before Adora dove in front of him, blocking his route with her body and a smile that was aiming for ‘hello, everything's fine!’ but was really giving ‘please tell me you like me.’
“Bow! Buddy! There you are!” Adora's voice was casual, if you willingly chose to ignore how much desperation she was radiating.
“Oh, hey! Sorry, you're looking for me?” Behind her, the drinks were getting a little rowdier than they probably needed to be on a Wednesday. “Is there a problem with the website? Do you need me to troubleshoot something?”
“Nope, nothing like that. Just wanted to hang.” To demonstrate this, Adora immediately leaned against the nearest surface she could find, awkwardly propping her hand on the wall next to them. It was a really sad imitation of what she clearly thought a cool person would do.
Today, Adora's t-shirt of choice was black and said ‘in diversity we trust’. She wore a different one everyday and whenever Bow was struggling for something to say to the CFO, he usually just told her her shirt was cool.
Bow was opening his mouth to repeat that move when Adora said, not at all casually, “You’re happy here, right?”
He was gonna pretend he had plans during tomorrow's cocktail hour. Maybe he'd walk halfway home before catching the subway. That would be nice, a stroll across the bridge as the daymoon set.
“I am. I love it here.” That felt like a stretch but Adora’s big blue eyes looked so needy. Bow thought she could use a win.
“Great,” she said, letting out a loud, relieved breath. “Great. You’d tell me if you weren’t, though, right?”
No, he thought to himself, because she usually seemed about one more let-down away from a full-blown meltdown. “Of course.”
Bow gave his warmest, most reassuring smile. Adora’s returning smile was genuine now. She really was nice and competent, she just had entirely too much on her plate. Most days, he was sure she was gonna pop a vessel and push through to get 12 more hours of work in before throwing everyone a party and then driving herself to the hospital because she wouldn't want to inconvenience anyone else. Bow liked making people happy but Adora pushed it to a level that's a notch away from being mildly worrying.
Good thing Glimmer was gonna handle this catfishing nonsense. Adora and the profile’s very real-life counterpart would...not get along well.
By the time he got home, dehydrated and exhausted and probably stinking from the onion soup someone was slurping up next to him on the train, the last thing Bow was expecting was company. But all of the lights were on and it smelled like garlic and melted cheese so strongly that his stomach began to growl.
When he threw his keys into the misused candy bowl next to the door, there was a set there already, after being empty for weeks. Sure enough, there was a faint jumping sound in the living room and the very loud bass of his least favorite Katy Perry song.
“You hate this one,” Bow called out as he left his shoes and coat by the entrance.
“Arrows!” was the enthusiastic response as the thumping continued. “You beat all my high scores, you bitch.”
“I told you we should've gotten a Peloton instead. This is too competitive for us.” He headed into their open kitchen and washed his hands before grabbing a glass of nice, cold water.
“No way. If I want a thin woman to yell at me in my own home, I'll just call up Weaver.”
“How was Prime?” he asked, leaning over the kitchen island so he could watch the game. She was barely winded, well on her way to shattering his high score, as she effortlessly followed the dance moves on the screen.
“We helped them poison the atmosphere more efficiently. So our children will only grow up with the 8 moons of Etheria but a billionaire will save an extra 7% in overhead each year.”
“Still fighting the good fight,” he replied, trying to pull off sounding simultaneously supportive and displeased. He loved his roommate and lifelong best friend; it would just also be nice if she decided to use her powers for good every once in a while.
The song ended in a silly little leg kick into the air that looked very out of character. She did it anyway cause gods forbid she not set an impossibly higher score, completely wiping both his name from the board and his chance for redemption.
She turned with a flourish, grinning all cheeky and proud of herself. Some calm settled into Bow's bones. This transition into the new job had thrown him off balance a little and it was made all the more difficult by not having his best friend, a core part of his support system, around more frequently.
And then that bizarre convo from just an hour ago hit him. Glimmer's terrible plan wasn't coming to fruition but the profile was still probably out there, just hovering in the interwebs. What if people were messaging it? What if someone else they knew found it? What if Weaver found it?
Okay, the profile probably wasn’t actually that incendiary. Adora liked it and something about her just said that she didn’t even butter her toast so the profile couldn’t be that scandalous. Just come clean and then everyone could determine what they wanted to do.
“Uhhh...Hey, Catra?” he tried.
Catra Fucking D’riluth, in her full glory, struck a new pose to show she was really listening, putting her hands on her hips.
“What up, Arrow? You lookin’ a little green.” She tilted her head to examine him more closely, her bangs falling loose from the ponytail high on her head. “Oh, shit, are you drunk?”
“I am vaguely tipsy,” Bow clarified, turning his nose up. “Cocktail hour at work was…weird.”
She put down the controller, chuckling quietly to herself. “You dorks spend so much time partying and making up for not being cool in college that I don’t know how you find any time to get work done.”
Catra joined Bow in their tiny kitchen, which absolutely did not help the pit of guilt and nervousness in his tummy. She always came back either wired or exhausted (or both) from work trips though, so she barely seemed to notice how he was gripping the counter in one hand and his water in the other.
‘Okay, this should be easy,’ Bow thought. ‘Just quickly explain everything, completely throw Glimmer under the bus, and also keep her identity a secret because Cat would absolutely destroy her.’
And Bow didn’t want that, to be clear. He wasn’t really sure why – Glimmer had pretty much just been a pain – but he felt a weird urge to shield her from Catra's wrath, just a little.
Besides. The person who was the real victim here was probably Adora. Bow was...not 100% certain how that argument was relevant in any way but anxiety and beer were a weird mix.
Catra gently pushed him out of the way to fill up her own glass from the faucet. “Am I gonna have to come down there and talk to someone about being a bad influence on my boy? That's my job.”
“No!” jumped right out of his mouth so fast that Catra took a quick step back. “No-no need to come to the office. I actually think I'm gonna take a break from the socializing.”
“I was kidding, weirdo. Have fun with your basic friends. You're being really bizarre right now.”
“They're not basic,” he said, mind drifting to Glimmer. If anything, she was too exciting.
“Why are you making that face?”
“I'm not making a face.”
“You are,” Catra argued, empty hand shooting out to grab at his cheeks. “Like you're imagining an attractive yet challenging math problem.”
“That's not a thing I do!”
Attempting to fight her off was useless, as full of energy and suspicion as she was currently, so Bow went for a distraction instead.
He motioned with his head towards what she was wearing, a red cropped sleeveless sweatshirt that said ‘trade of the season.’ “You stole my shirt. You've been here less than a day and you've already been through my closet?”
Catra pulled back but didn’t look appropriately ashamed of herself. “We agreed to share this shirt.”
“Funny how we only share my things.”
“You're about to talk your way out of a delicious home-cooked meal.”
“Food?” Bow asked, feeling himself perk up. He'd completely forgotten somehow.
“Baked a ziti.”
“Oh, no. Was she that terrible?”
“Wants to talk about my tone next week,” Catra said, letting her voice dip into the creepy alto she used to imitate Weaver. The accent was a mix of made-up Catra-lands. She'd whipped up a whole backstory for her boss that involved the woman being born to cutthroat robber barons, left behind during a heist, and raised by emotionally manipulative wolves.
If Weaver was just semi-rude to Catra, Bow would have expected a literal grocery bag full of candy. Condescending and passive probably would’ve gotten him a store-bought cake. Homemade ziti indicated that Catra was actually pretty upset, likely very terrified of this future meeting.
Bow let the counter, his cup, and all of his fears about Glimmer’s plans go. “Come here, buddy.”
“A hug’s not gonna make me feel better.”
Ignoring that, Bow pulled her, stolen shirt and all, into a huge bear hug.
“I fucking hate this,” Catra mumbled as her face just sorta fell into Bow’s chest.
“I know you mean the job and not the hug.”
“Why can’t it be both?” She sighed and finally allowed herself to relax. The hotel shampoo in her hair smelled too floral. Catra must’ve hated that. “Why do I try so hard?”
‘Because your mothers are the kindest people ever but they definitely gave you some kind of inferiority complex,’ Bow thought to himself. “Because you’re brilliant and amazing and you appreciate a job done well.”
“True. All of that.” She snorted and Bow imagined that she was laughing at her own joke until she said, “Maybe I should come work with you. Seems like your boss is a pushover. I could be into that.”
There was a high-pitched panicked laugh that sounded like someone had cornered a hyena. Catra jumped back again in surprise.
“What is going on with you today?”
“Nothing,” Bow replied. His voice still wouldn’t come back down. The back of his shirt felt damp, probably breaking out into a sweat. “You’d hate it at my office. You’re right. Way too loosey-goosey.” He attempted to demonstrate this by doing a sort of sideways bodyroll. Catra looked like she was considering packing right up and not returning again for a long while.
“I mean, your business model is super dumb. A furniture subscription service? They’re charging you $19.99 per month ad infinitum for a godsdamn $30 rug that you've probably already forgotten was even in your living room. Plus, people definitely fuck on the couches and then send ‘em back.”
Bow’s eyes glanced at their couch, the Cobalt model, which wasn’t even blue. It was rich brown leather and huge enough to really stretch out on and he loved it, but when he got it a month ago, he purposefully avoided mentioning to Catra that he’d been given it at work. And that it was used.
“Yeah,” Bow tried to laugh the thought off. Between wracking his brain to remember if he’d wiped the furniture off thoroughly enough and his growing panic about Glimmer’s scheme, he could feel how wild his eyes were, struggling to maintain contact with Catra as they nervously shot around. “You’d hate it. Not for you. Definitely not. Anyway, dinner! Yum. I just love food. Don’t you?”
Once Catra had checked Bow’s head repeatedly for injuries and then forced him to drink 8 cups of water to sober up, he finally started to act normal enough to be fed. Dinner was cute. There wasn’t a whole lot to catch up on since they texted pretty frequently and also because Bow wouldn’t answer a single straight question. But they chatted a little.
As soon as he’d filled the dishwasher, he took off to hide in his room. Honestly, it was kind of a relief. After weeks with Scorpia, Catra could stand to sit in silence for at least 4 months.
She went through her usual routine, washing the travel grime off her clothes and the gross hotel products out of her fur. Halfway watched some dyke drama tv show in the background while she cleaned up her room. Buffed her claws. Downloaded a different hookup app on her phone to get a peek at the local trade.
That weird blonde girl from earlier popped up within seconds. Good gods, this woman was literally everywhere. It was that same profile picture, all smiling eyes and nice teeth and dumb muscular shoulders showing off while she was out on a hike or something basic. Even her username, Ad0raBle, was cloying.
Catra closed the app. This one was too clingy already. Catra was pretty sure that if she responded to even one message, this girl would be at her door with flowers and a ring. Catra was barely in town for more than two months a year. It was the perfect amount of time to meet a new person and promptly never see them again.
This was probably a horrible mistake but out of habit, she decided to check her work email one last time before bed. Never not once had Catra tried this and not ended up at least staying awake for another hour, pacing and plotting revenge on Weaver. One time, she made it as far as crafting an elaborate resignation plan before realizing that her boss would literally not give two shits and any of the minions that worked with her would immediately just take her place. It would be like Catra had never even existed. Five years and countless hours billed and her legacy would be exactly fucking zilch.
This night fortunately, Weaver’s only email was a short announcement of a new bid for a client. She usually liked to divvy out assignments herself, dangling her power over everyone’s heads to keep them frightened and obedient. If she was sharing this information freely, she must’ve been imagining that all of her subordinates would immediately be at each other’s throats to prove their loyalty to her.
Catra emailed back quickly, hoping against hope that her colleagues were all sleeping at midnight, even though Weaver greatly discouraged anyone from ever thinking they were not on the clock 24/7.
She snorted a little at that thought. Hope. How fitting. Yeah, she had no clue what the fuck was up with Bow right now but if anyone was gonna swoop in and help Hope Industries out, it would be her. It’d be great. They’d spend a little more time together. She’d finally get the info on all these randos he worked with. Judging by the frat-level antics his office got up to, this would probably be an easy gig.
Taking one more look at her draft email, Catra sent it off before returning to review Weaver’s original message. With dread, she read ‘customer service’ as the main area where Hope Industries needed support.
Oh fuck. Catra hated customers. And service. She was much better with systems and processes, structured things that involved minimal personal interaction. If she waffled back on her offer, Weaver would never let her live it down. Plus, there was a 120% chance that she’d be matched with Scorpia again since they both just wrapped up a project and Weaver absolutely loved to keep the big lug out of the office as much as possible.
This was the worst assignment ever.