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witchysniffles · 8 days ago

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that old familiar feeling

These gays. They're trying to murder me.

This was meant to be a short little prompt fill for the prompts 😘: kissing things better, 🍓: homemade food/treats, and 🗓️: working late. (Thanks @snezus-christ-risen for the prompts!!) 4.4k words later, I do think I technically checked all those boxes.

A/gathario ft. sick A/gatha (and R/io who's not immune to irritation...)

Please don't reblog to non-kink blogs! Minors DNI.

Rio wasn’t sure what the hell the Scarlet Witch had put in that TV spell she’d locked Agatha in, and she definitely wasn’t sure what was or wasn’t intentional at this point, but she had to admit, she respected the hell out of whatever power had made the bold choice to turn the grand finale into a sick episode.

She’d noticed it from the first moment she saw Agatha in her ��office’, which was really just a cluttered living room that was in serious need of a good dusting. Or maybe not. That would probably just make things worse.

It had been a long time, but Rio still knew Agatha better than she knew herself and the little signs were all there: the tired, watery eyes; the scratchy voice and dull congestion she couldn’t quite shake; her reddened, irritated nose that she kept rubbing in a way that had Rio suddenly very aware of the seam in her slacks as she crossed her legs.

And then there was the sneezing.

Despite a couple of quivering breaths and one rather promising false start that quickly fizzled out, Agatha had managed to keep it together during their initial meeting, but Rio had hung around the ‘station’ for a while after, which was a nicer way of saying she’d lurked around Agatha’s garden to try to get a better read on the situation. It wasn’t her fault Agatha left her windows open so that Rio could hear her fighting an increasingly frustrating battle against her nose for the better part of the afternoon.

So now here she was, standing on Agatha’s front step in the dark with a bag from the local pharmacy loaded with tissues and canned soup and anything that had looked even remotely useful from the cold and flu aisle. It had been a very long time since she’d had cause to buy cold medicine—the last time had been 1893, if memory served, and back then it had mostly just been a question of what flavor you preferred your cocktail of tranquilizers—but the guy at the cash register who rang her up said she clearly had all her bases covered, so she figured that was good enough.

She wasn’t sure Agatha would actually take any of it, but it wouldn’t hurt to give her some options. This Detective Agnes character didn’t seem like the type to take care of herself very well. But then again, neither was Agatha.

With a deep breath to calm her nerves, Rio reached out and knocked on the door. For a long moment, nothing happened, but then Rio heard footsteps coming closer, unintelligible grumbling, a lock clicking, before the door was wrenched open and Rio was face-to-face with a thoroughly disgruntled Agatha.

“What?” Agatha growled. She had a scowl on her face, clearly intending to send her unexpected guest packing, but once she noticed it was Rio, something in her expression shifted.

Her eyes widened in surprise, her lips parted; maybe it was just wishful thinking on Rio’s part, but she seemed almost…softer. Or at least as soft as this prickly version of her could look with a flushed face, tired eyes, and a frizzy halo of flyaways. She still looked grumpy and frankly sick as a dog, but for an instant, Rio almost caught a glimpse of her Agatha beneath the hexed shell. It tugged at something deep inside her, and she found herself biting the inside of her cheek to keep her expression neutral.

“Did you know,” she started evenly, “that it is a universally-acknowledged truth that a lady cop cannot be good at her job and have a healthy personal life at the same time?” Rio held up the pharmacy bag and jiggled it enticingly. “I brought the good stuff.”

Agatha narrowed her eyes and sniffled.

“What is this?”

“A peace offering, since we got off to such a rocky start,” Rio said with a shrug. “You seemed out of sorts at the station earlier, and I know there’s something nasty going around right now, so it didn’t take much to put two and two together.”

“Huh.” Agatha crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame. “Nothing gets by you, does it?”

“Nope,” Rio said. “That’s how I earned the big badge. Now can I come in? Your canned soup is getting cold.”

The corner of Agatha’s lip twitched at that, but she played it off with an irritated grumble even as she stepped aside to open the door a little wider.

Well that was easier than Rio had expected. Maybe the Detective Agnes model wasn’t so bad after all.

“Kitchen?” she asked.

“T-to the left,” Agatha said. “Wh-hh-what do you need the-hih-the kitchen for?”

“The soup,” Rio said, valiantly ignoring the way Agatha’s breath kept snagging on the edges of her words. “It might not be home cooking, but I promise you I can doctor up a mean can of Campbell’s.”

“You don’t hah-have to d-do that.” Agatha’s eyelashes were starting to flutter. She ducked her head to the side as she closed the front door with one hand and pressed the side of the other against the underside of her nose. Her red, irritated nostrils quivered as her breath hitched again, and she switched to pinching them to try to stave off the inevitable.

Rio didn’t say anything; she just watched Agatha’s war with herself with bated breath. Agatha was putting up a hell of a fight, but her body was fighting even harder. With one final, fluttery inhale, she pitched forward and squelched a sneeze into a near-silent shudder. She released her nose with a heavy sigh and a wet sniffle, subtly wiping her hand on the hem of her shirt. Rio thought she’d call that round a draw.

She turned away before Agatha could catch her looking, but she couldn’t resist calling a soft “Bless you!” over her shoulder as she headed towards the kitchen.

She glanced towards the dining room as she passed, and had to do a double take when she noticed the spread on the table: file folders labeled ‘EVIDENCE’, photographs of the neighbor’s flowerbeds, typed forms and handwritten notes that proved that at least the hex was still providing Agatha with more than enough mental stimulation.

“Burning the midnight oil, detective?” Rio asked, looking back and raising an eyebrow at Agatha who at least had the sense to look a little sheepish as she pressed a knuckle to the underside of her nose.

“Case doesn’t stop for the sniffles,” she said.

“No, but it does take a break,” Rio said sternly. “I’m gonna start on the soup. In the meantime, pack this up and get comfy somewhere. You’re not to think about it until at least tomorrow.” Agatha started to open her mouth like she was going to protest, but Rio was quick to cut her off. “That’s an order.”

She knew she was pushing it by trying to pull her fake rank, but she was pleasantly surprised that it…worked. Agatha didn’t look happy about it, but she busied herself clearing off the table as Rio set about unpacking her haul on the kitchen island.

Her attention was only half on her work, though. Apparently looking down at the table was enough to shift the congestion in Agatha’s sinuses and set her nose running. She sniffled once, twice, and swiped at her nose with her sleeve. By the third desperate, snuffling inhale, Rio rolled her eyes and tore open the tissue box she’d brought.

“Here.” She waited until Agatha lifted her head and tossed the box so it landed on the table next to her. “Blow.”

Agatha nodded her thanks as she traded her sleeve for a handful of tissues and cleared her nose with a couple of forceful blows. She didn’t lower her hands right away, though. Rio could tell from her shaky breath exactly what was happening, and she watched as sure enough, Agatha’s eyes closed as she pinched the tissue tight around her nose with one hand, bracing herself on the back of a chair with the other, and sneezed again.

“Hh-g’tx! H’gXHT! Ugh,” Agatha wiped her nose and sniffled again. She lowered her hands, but at the last second, another sharp inhale overtook her and she only just managed to get her elbow up in time. “Heh’ESSHhew!”

Huh. Interesting.

That was the first time Rio had heard a truly let out sneeze from Agatha all day, and she was pleased to learn that despite the new butch affect and that ridiculous accent that seemed to come and go the more time Rio spent around her, Agatha still sneezed exactly the same.

“Bless you,” Rio said casually.

Agatha rolled her eyes. “You’re gonna get tired of that real quick.”

Rio flashed her a grin. “Try me.”

Agatha chuckled and shook her head as she turned back to her work.

Rio, meanwhile, dumped both cans of chicken noodle soup into a saucepan and set it to warm on the stove while she raided the rest of Agatha’s kitchen.

“Wow.” Agatha had wandered over to the island and was pawing through the various boxes and bottles of cold medicine that promised to reduce fevers, ease congestion, soothe coughs, and knock you the fuck out to fix everything else. “Did you stick up the pharmacy on the way over?”

“Invoked eminent domain, actually,” Rio quipped. “No one ever seems to want to argue when you flash the badge.”

That made Agatha chuckle, and Rio smiled to herself as she grabbed a carton of half-and-half out of the fridge.

“You kndow,” Agatha sniffled hard and cleared her throat in an effort to regain control of her consonants. It didn’t really work, but it was cute that she tried. “You did’t have to do all this.”

“I know,” Rio said. “I wanted to.”

“Why?”

Now there was a loaded question if Rio had ever heard one.

It wasn’t like she could tell her the truth, at least not outright. The layers of this spell ran deep, and Rio was terrified to risk ripping through it all at once. It was better to be gentle, take it slow, guide Agatha towards the light on her own. If she had to tear her love’s world apart once again, Rio at least still wanted to be kind about it. Even if Agatha didn’t always see it, Rio had only ever tried to be kind.

Then, there was also the selfish part of Rio—a thing she never had before Agatha came along—that very much did just want to spend as much time with her as she could in whatever form she could get. And it didn’t hurt that she was frankly kind of loving the show that Agnes was putting on. She’d seen Agatha undone like this plenty of times over the years, and it was a sight that she could never grow tired of, but there was something about this particular performance that had Rio captivated. The essence of Agatha was still there in the thinly-veiled frustration, the reluctance to rest, the abuse of her irritated nose, but it was all just slightly off so that Rio never quite knew what to expect. It was almost thrilling that even after all these years there was a new way to watch this all play out.

And then, of course, she'd be lying if she said there wasn't a hint of self-preservation involved. Rio was fairly certain at this point that even in her human form she, herself, couldn’t be killed. If there was an exception to that rule, though, she was also fairly certain that Agatha would be angry enough to find it if Rio woke her from the spell and she found out that she was sick on top of it.

The soup was boiling now, and Rio poured in the cream and brought it down to a simmer before she realized she still hadn’t given Agatha an answer.

“Would you rather I kick you while you’re down?” Rio asked. “Because I could definitely do that instead.” She swapped the cream for some chicken bouillon and a few plastic spice jars that were all well past their best by dates. Black pepper, garlic powder, onion powder, thyme, and oh, red pepper flakes. “How do you feel about a little bit of spice?”

When she didn’t get an answer right away, Rio turned to find Agatha leaning heavily on the island, one hand on her forehead while the other was rubbing up and down the bridge of her nose.

“You ok?” Rio asked.

“F-fine,” Agatha said. “It-hih-it’s fide. S-sometimes they ju-h’huh-just get stuck and I…” She trailed off as her breath hitched once, twice, and she dropped her hand as her lips parted in anticipation and she—

“Ah, fuck’s sake!” Agatha dropped her head onto the counter and sighed.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me your nose has performance anxiety,” Rio teased.

It did. It was a horrible irony that Agatha’s nose could be so sensitive, but paying it too much attention could leave her breathless and frustrated, and not in a way she enjoyed. Rio knew this, but she had to admit that she was rather enjoying watching Agatha squirm.

Agatha didn’t lift her head—to hide her flushed cheeks, Rio presumed—but she grumbled a toothless, “Fuck off, Vidal,” as she flipped Rio the bird.

“Ok, sorry,” Rio said. “I’m not paying attention. Just pretend I’m not even here.” She turned back to the soup. Agatha hadn’t answered her question, but Rio knew the spice was probably still a yes. She measured with her heart, stirred everything in, and valiantly ignored the sounds of Agatha’s breath hitching desperately behind her again. Somehow not seeing it made it feel like even more of a distraction.

“Hh’hih…hh-hih—HH’heh…hH’HEgxtCH! HEh’xsh!”

“Salud,” Rio said as Agatha blew her nose with a congested sigh. “You know, you shouldn’t stifle like that.”

“Who are you, mby mother?”

“Thankfully no,” Rio said. She looked back and smirked over her shoulder so that she could watch Agatha’s cheeks flush even redder as she added, “I doubt we’d be having near as much fun if I was.”

“Is that what we’re doi’g?” Agatha asked, raising an eyebrow as she rubbed at her nose again. “Havi’g fud?”

Rio shrugged. “Could be.”

“Sure,” Agatha scoffed. “I bet I’b real fud all stuffed ub a’d gross.”

Rio didn’t say anything, just hummed lightly as she gave the soup another stir. It was just about done now, and Rio turned off the heat as she reached for a spoon to taste it. It looked nearly homemade, and it smelled like it too. She inhaled deeply, relishing the warm, spicy scent on the steam and she…ohh fuck. Rio just managed to drop her spoon on the counter and get a hand vaguely in front of her face before the burning tickle in her nose reached a crescendo.

“Hh-HAH’ESHhoo!” The first sneeze erupted out of her with little more than a shuddering gasp as a warning. She just barely remembered to turn away from the stove so she wasn’t directly spraying the soup, but the persistent itch didn’t give her much time to do anything else. “H’ASHhu! Oh-hh fuh-fuck I c-can’t AESHtshu!”

“Oh, shit! Are you…fuck, hold on.”

Rio was vaguely aware of Agatha scrambling around in the background, and under almost any other circumstances it might have made her laugh, but right now the only thing she could think about was how badly she still needed to sneeze. Her breath hitched once, twice, and then suddenly there was a hand on her upper arm, and Agatha was at her side, pressing a piece of fabric—was that a dish towel? Hadn’t Rio just given her tissues?—into her hand.

“HehEASCHoo!”

Rio was far too preoccupied with the persistent itch that was still smoldering deep in her sinuses to think about covering, but thankfully she didn’t have to. In the split-second she had between her breath stuttering and the next sneeze, Agatha took it upon herself to press the dish towel against Rio’s nose.

“AETSHhu! Ohh-hh g-god I hih-hESHH’hoo!”

That last one seemed to finish the job, but neither Rio nor Agatha moved for a long moment as Rio gave an experimental sniffle into the damp dish towel. With a sigh of relief, she straightened up, taking the fabric from Agatha and blowing the last remnants of irritation into it. When she was finished, she tossed the crumpled-up makeshift tissue onto the island. The actual tissues, she noted, were still on the dining table, and she felt a smile tug at her lips at the thought of Agatha being so panicked she hadn’t even thought to look behind her.

And on the subject of Agatha, Rio noticed that she was still hovering anxiously in front of the sink, not saying anything, just watching Rio closely.

“What?” Rio sniffled. There was a strand of hair that had come loose from her bun at the edge of her vision, and she tucked it back behind her ear. “No manners?”

“Oh, shit, sorry. Uh…bless you?” Agatha pointedly looked down at the stove as Rio casually scratched the side of her nose. “Sorry, that was just…that was a lot.”

Rio shrugged. “Spice always does me in like that. Guess I was just a little distracted.”

Agatha’s cheeks flushed impossibly redder and her hands twitched at her sides, so she just crossed her arms over her chest and exhaled heavily.

A devious smirk curled at the edge of Rio’s lips. If she wasn’t here on a mission, she’d have loved to get to play around with this a little more. Agatha’s…enjoyment of Rio’s sneezing had initially been a bit of a surprise to them both, but fuck if it wasn’t one of the hottest things Rio had ever experienced. She was pretty sure based on this reaction that Agnes had gotten that trait too, and Rio was willing to bet the good detective could be a real freak in the right light.

But she couldn’t think about that now. Every moment she was here was nothing but borrowed time for Agatha; Rio could be horny about it later.

She hip-checked Agatha out of the way of the sink so she could wash her hands. Agatha stepped back, but was still watching Rio with a strange expression on her face now. She looked pensive. Curious, even, like she was fitting together pieces of a puzzle without getting to see the picture on the box first.

For the briefest of moments, Rio considered that her own sneezing might have been jarring enough to at least rattle the bars of the spell Agatha was under, and if that were true, she was never letting Agatha live it down.

But then Agatha’s nose scrunched up again, and she pressed her knuckle hard against it, closing her eyes as the congestion shifted audibly. It didn’t go any further than that, but when Agatha opened her eyes again, any hint of recognition was gone. Rio supposed she’d just have to try harder next time.

She stirred the soup and tasted it. Perfect. She turned back to Agatha and nodded in the direction of the table.

“Wash your hands, then go sit down,” she said. “I’ll bring you a bowl.”

Agatha did as she was told without protest, and Rio busied herself rummaging around in Agatha’s cabinets until she found a mismatched set of bowls. She portioned out the soup and turned around to see Agatha flipping through a file folder at the table.

“Hey!” Agatha jumped at Rio’s sharp tone. “What did I say about working right now?”

“I kndow,” Agatha said. “I won’t, but just…would you do mbe a favor while you’re here and look at a couple of pictures?”

“You’re really asking for my help with your case?” Rio tutted as she set the steaming bowl on the table. “Have we checked your temp yet? Because that sounds like a fever talking to me.”

Agatha looked up at her, and it was clear that she was trying to look formidable, but all Rio could focus on was her pale skin, her watery eyes, her little halo of frizz from the messy ponytail that had no business looking that good on anyone. The steam from the soup in front of her was making her nose run and she scrunched it up as she tried to sniffle before resorting to using the edge of her sleeve pulled over her thumb to wipe it away. She looked so pathetic and adorable it damn near made Rio’s heart melt in her chest.

“Alright, fine,” she said, settling down in a chair across from Agatha. “I’ll look as long as you’re eating.”

“Ok, just gimme a second to find it.” Agatha licked the thumb and forefinger of her left hand as she started flipping through pages of crime scene notes and photos, picking up speed as she went until—

"Ah, shit," Agatha hissed. She dropped the folder as she shook her hand reflexively and stuck her index finger in her mouth.

Rio winced. "Papercut?"

Agatha nodded.

"Can I see?"

Agatha narrowed her eyes uncertainly, but still held out her hand. Rio didn't miss the way Agatha flinched when their hands met, but she didn't pull away. A little dot of blood had welled up again on the tip of Agatha's index finger. Rio held it up to the light, and studied the lines of Agatha’s face as she considered her next move.

"May I?” she asked before she could second-guess herself.

Agatha's brow furrowed in confusion, but even through the sleepy haze of the low grade fever Rio could feel on her skin, those sea-blue eyes were curious and hungry and desperate to know what happened next. She nodded once, and Rio smirked.

Slowly, gently, Rio guided Agatha's hand closer to her, keeping her eyes on Agatha the whole time until she could press her lips feather-light against the tip of Agatha's index finger, parting them just enough to press the tip of her tongue against the cut. Agatha sucked in a breath and Rio pretended not to notice.

Agatha had always described the sensation of Rio's healing magic as a dangerous sort of pleasure, like holding her palm just above a lit candle and letting the flame lick at her skin in the instant before it burned. For Rio, the push and pull of her own magic against Agatha's had always made it feel more akin to a static shock: electric and exhilarating. But here, now, in this ordinary house with Agatha's purple under someone else's lock and key, she could feel for the first time the warmth of her own magic as it melted against Agatha's skin and knit the minuscule cut back together.

Rio kept her eyes on Agatha as she held her hand back up to the light.

"Look at that," Rio said. "Didn't even break the skin."

Agatha's gaze dragged from her healed finger to Rio's eyes, and for just an instant, something like recognition flashed across her face before the confusion took over again. Agatha’s eyes went unfocused, her brow furrowed, her lips parted, and Rio was so caught up in watching her this close up that she was caught completely off-guard when Agatha snapped forward with a sudden harsh sneeze.

“hh-hETSHhoo!”

Agatha wrenched her left hand free of Rio’s gentle hold, and cupped it over her nose just in time to cover another harsh sneeze as Rio lunged for the tissue box. She held it out to Agatha who nodded her thanks as she replaced her hand with a couple of tissues and blew her nose.

If the heavy sigh that followed was anything to go off of, this cold was really starting to catch up with her. Feeling brave, Rio reached out to tuck a stray curl behind Agatha’s ear. Agatha flinched at the initial touch, but she didn’t pull away, and Rio let her nails drag lightly along Agatha’s scalp. That earned her a congested moan as Agatha’s eyes fell closed.

“How about this,” Rio said gently. “I’ll come back over and check on you tomorrow and we can talk about the case as much as you want then. But for now I think you need to eat something and then get your sorry ass to bed.”

“Fuck off,” Agatha grumbled in a tone that said she knew Rio was right and she was gonna listen, but she had to be kind of a bitch about it first. With that out of her system, though, she picked up her spoon to try the soup and her face instantly changed.

“It’s good, right?” Rio asked with a grin.

“It’s great,” Agatha said. “They teach you this shit at Quantico?”

“Nope, I'm self-taught,” Rio said. “I mean, I learned the basics from my ex.” Not a lie. “She’s a pretty decent cook, and I could barely even feed myself when we first got together. She taught me a lot, but I feel in love with the process and the rest is all just years of trial and error."

“Ex, huh?” Agatha scoffed. “Her loss.” She shifted in her seat, cleared her throat, scratched at the side of her nose before taking another spoonful of soup.

Rio laughed lightly and shook her head. “You have no idea.”

Agatha glanced at Rio and caught her eye for a moment before slowly, hesitantly reaching her right hand out just a little bit. She didn’t even make it halfway across the table, but the gesture was heard loud and clear: Agatha was reaching out. She was asking Rio to stay.

Rio thought about the rest of the soup on the stove that she’d have to put away sooner or later. She thought about the mess she’d left on the island that she’d have to find a place for when Agatha inevitably refused anything stronger than Tylenol. She thought about following Agatha up to bed, tucking her in, leaving water and tissues on the nightstand before leaving her alone when really Rio wanted more than anything to get under the blankets and just hold her.

Rio thought about all of this as she looked back at the hand she knew as well as her own. She’d have to leave soon. One way or another, she always had to leave. But right now she didn’t let herself dwell on that. Instead, she let her own hand creep closer to Agatha’s until they could fit their fingers perfectly together. Rio squeezed lightly, and when she met Agatha’s eyes, there was a shadow of an old familiar warmth in them.

Sooner or later this would be over, but for right now, it felt like enough.

#hello once again from 4:30am on a work night :)#i'll probably go back through and edit this again tomorrow at a normal human hour but what am i gonna do NOT post it immediately??#better note and maybe title and all that to come later when the insomnia no longer has me in a death grip #witchywrites #snzfic #sneezefic #a/gathario #a/aa #and with that i bid you all goodnight 🫡#ETA: ok spent my lunch break editing this and i am pleasantly surprised by how few typos there were!!#round of applause for 4am-and-half-a-gummy me for catching most of them last night ig lol #i'm sure i'll notice more later but for right now i'm pretty happy with this

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