Chapter Text
Andy is very annoyed with how her day is going. She’s pretty sure she did not sleep more than two hours last night because her upstairs neighbors had been having some kind of wild jackrabbit sex slamming their headboard against the wall, no amount of coffee seems to wake her up which doesn’t matter anyway because she spills it all on her pants and has to change, then her car starts making a very worrying hammering noise on the way to work that she didn’t have time to look at but somehow makes her late for court anyway. It sounds exactly like her upstairs neighbors, which makes her annoyed with them all over again.
Generally, Andy loves her building. Sure, the walls are thin, the rent goes up often, the elevator is haunted (which Blanca says is the least of it’s worries), and the laundry room looks like a horror film, but she finds the old brick building charming and soothing, old bits of stained glass in the windows and original old-fashioned cupboards. Some of the corner apartments are big two bedroom apartments with wrap-around views of downtown, which means some people with pretty good money live on the top floors, so the common areas and the courtyard are always clean and well maintained.
Andy had been lucky enough to snag one of the few corner studio apartments in the building. Hers doesn’t have much of a view because she’s only on the third floor, but the view of the gas station across the street isn’t so bad. And because it’s a corner apartment, and the apartment below hers has been empty ever since the previous tenant set it on fire while drunk, she doesn’t lose much sleep over the paper thin walls.
There’s only one problem. The upstairs neighbors. Most of the time, they’re perfectly quiet. She sometimes hears a vacuum or a dinner party with lots of shoes running around, but they seem to sleep on the same schedule as her. But that means they do keep her up at night, because they have the wildest sex Andy has ever heard.
She’s never been able to figure out who, exactly, the couple upstairs are. She suspects they’re both women because they sound like women’s voices, but when she runs through the people at the summer BBQ in the courtyard or the holiday party in the lobby, she can’t figure out who it might be. She’d love to think it’s the hot older woman who still dresses like a goth kid and smokes cigarettes outside, because Andy has a bit of a crush on her, but she heard her complaining loudly about being single at the holiday party, so probably not? The call box for the apartment lists two hyphenated last names, so they’re probably married and it’s not someone that just has a different partner over every night.
There’s a very attractive woman with short hair she helped get an Ikea box out of the elevator, but that was on the second floor and with a man that Andy assumes she’s married or partnered with. And there’s a woman who told Andy she’s a school teacher, but she’s, well, Andy doesn’t like to make assumptions, but there is no way that the woman with the vest with #1 Teacher on it and brown loafer shoes could be making the sounds she hears from upstairs. She looks more like someone that would move to the countryside and have seven children or something. Most likely the couple upstairs are just a busy couple who don’t come to the apartment events. She’s run through some other theories, but this seems the most likely. There may or may not be a search in Andy’s browser history that says “can ghosts have loud sex?”
But today, with so little sleep, Andy doesn’t much care who they are, but is going to figure it out so she can give them a piece of her already half gone mind.
Now that court is finally over, she has to go deal with some obnoxious attorney that had filed a complaint against her for literally just doing her job, in the form of a pile of paperwork on her desk. She starts to realize as she’s going through the paperwork that the complaint is more serious than she initially understood- if a judge agrees, she could be prevented from taking the bar exam for one year, a fairly serious career setback.
As if she had not had enough jackhammering nonsense today, a literal jackhammer starts in the construction site across the street.
Andy slams her head down on her desk with a groan.
“You look like you’re having a great day,” a familiar voice says, and Andy jumps, knocking over her water bottle, luckily righting it quickly before it can spill on her desk.
“Judge Lucas! Um, I’m fine, how are you?”
Lucas had been appointed a judge from being a DA only last month, so Andy doesn’t entirely trust her yet.
“Nice reflexes. I have good news for you. You must have a guardian angel. Someone wrote an anonymous but very persuasive letter recommending the complaint against you be dropped, complete with letters of recommendation from your professors and proof that you simply got caught in the middle of a feud. You wouldn’t happen to know who it was that wrote this letter, do you?”
She hands Andy what is not a letter as much as an impressively thick file.
Andy is going to kill Blanca.
“No, judge.”
Judge Lucas narrows her eyes but doesn’t say anything, has her sign something, and leaves. Andy is a little confused as to why Lucas came all the way to her office just to have her sign something, that would usually be something a clerk would do. She must have really wanted to know who wrote the letter.
Andy knows she doesn’t have a guardian angel. She has an obnoxious meddling coworker who needs to let her figure things out on her own. Blanca thinks she’s helping her when she does things like this, but never seems to consider it’s patronizing to suggest Andy can’t deal with issues on her own.
Andy looks around. She hasn’t seen Blanca all day, and she’s got some explaining to do, but before she can find her, Andy gets a call that a box of evidence needs to be dropped off, apparently urgently, at DA Charleston’s office, which means she needs both a signature from someone in her office as well as someone in Charleston’s office that the evidence was contained and the seals hadn’t been tampered with, but everyone seems to be at lunch or in court and she can’t find anyone to sign it. Seriously, where the hell is Blanca? Andy is starving, but doesn’t have time to get lunch so she grabs a hot dog at the stand, but because she can’t let the evidence box out of her sight, she spills ketchup all down her shirt because she’s trying to eat and carry the box at the same time.
She finally finds someone in her office to sign the form and lugs the box to Charleston’s office, but of course, her office is closed with no clerk at the desk. Andy decides to try to knock on Charleston’s door, just in case she’s there, but she doesn’t answer.
Because that’s just the kind of day Andy is having.
She can’t wait long. If all her coffee had spilled on her pants, why does she have to pee so bad? She figures nobody would notice if she leaves the box on the DA’s desk while she goes to the bathroom and waits for the clerk to get back and sign the form, so she happily finds the office door unlocked- finally, a stroke of luck today.
The room is not empty. Blanca is sitting on the side of the desk and Ingrid is standing between her legs, hands under her ass like maybe Ingrid picked her up and put her down there. The pair leap apart with a startled yelp, but the kiss that they’re locked in is so intense that it takes them a moment to disentangle from each other. Ingrid’s tongue is so far down Blanca’s throat that Andy has to watch it go back in her mouth, and Blanca’s hands are so tangled in Ingrid’s hair she struggles to pull them out. It seems to have been a frantic situation- one of Blanca’s shoes is several feet away, and one of the buttons on Ingrid’s pants is hanging off by a thread. Andy can’t even guess what might have caused that to happen.
They both turn to her looking absolutely panicked, but completely out of it, like they’d been in a different world, far away from a courthouse. They also both look somewhat relieved when they see it’s Andy and not someone else.
Blanca slips off the other side of the desk to stand and wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “Don’t you know you should knock before coming into a DA’s office, Andy?”
“I did. I don’t think you two were listening. I’m dropping off this box, it just needs a signature from DA Charleston. Then you two can get back to… whatever that was.”
As Andy rounds the desk, Ingrid reaches behind her with one hand, trying to close a folder and shove it underneath her keyboard, but Andy gets a glimpse of it.
“Was that my name on that folder?” Andy asks with a frown as she holds out the clipboard to Ingrid.
“Sorry, attorney-client privilege.”
Ingrid takes the clipboard with a swallow, but hesitates when Andy hands her a pen. Andy realizes that Ingrid’s fingers are wet, in fact most of her hand seems to be. Andy hadn’t realized that they had been fucking when she walked in, she thought they were just making out, but it’s an interesting revelation. She turns just in time to see Blanca pulling her skirt down where it had ridden up her thighs and smirks at her. Ingrid is forced to take the pen from Andy and sign the document with a wet hand, and Andy can no longer fight back her laugh.
“Not a word, Andy,” Blanca says threateningly.
“I need to make sure the contents are there,” Ingrid says, clearing her throat. “Can you open the box for me?”
Charleston has always been one for rule-following. Andy laughs again, breaks the evidence seal and shows her the contents. She does a curt nod and signs the form, handing it back to Andy.
“You can keep the pen,” Andy says, still unable to stop laughing. “I was having a really terrible day, thanks for making me laugh.”
“Get that fucking sauce off your shirt before you go anywhere near the courthouse, Andy,” Blanca hisses, still looking very serious.
Helpfully, Ingrid instantly produces a stain remover pen from her desk and hands it to Andy.
“You can keep the pen,” she says, and Andy notices she’s pursing her lips together, trying not to laugh. It makes Andy laugh, which makes Ingrid lose it, and then all of them are laughing. Andy takes the stain remover and the clipboard and starts to run for the bathroom, before remembering her car problem and the date night that the problem has probably ruined.
“Oh, and Reyes,” she turns around in the doorway. They're supposed to call each other by their last names at work, but Blanca keeps forgetting, and Andy is all too happy to point it out. “My car is making a weird noise. I need to take it to the shop after work. Either you need to get a different ride home or we can take it to the shop together and get a ride share to your place.”
Andy would just take the bus, she takes it all the time, but Blanca has a thing about it, says they’re not cleaned enough.
“Let me take a look at it. I know something about having a sketchy car.” Blanca and Ingrid exchange a look with shy smiles, like this is an inside joke between them. Andy is a little surprised at this (not to mention Blanca’s use of the word “sketchy”) but doesn’t say anything.
“I can drive you home if it can’t be fixed,” Ingrid offers. “Well, Georgia can. She’s picking me up whenever the Nillson trial breaks for the day.”
A few hours later, Blanca has both hands under the hood of Andy’s car, her shirt sleeves rolled up and arms marked with black grease, her pencil skirt so tight when she leans over that Andy can see every shape, curve and crease in her body. Andy stands to the side, watching, gripping Blanca’s suit jacket for her tightly in both hands.
“Fuck,” she breathes, unable to keep it in. Andy has never once had a thing for mechanics or anything approaching it, but something about this scene is making her weak in the knees.
Ingrid is standing next to her, typing a text to, Andy presumes, Georgia to come pick them up. She looks up slightly alarmed when Andy swears, but sees what she’s looking at, snorts, and looks back at her phone.
“Shut up, Ingrid.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
If someone had told Andy just a couple of months ago she’d be calling DA Charleston Ingrid, telling her to shut up and bantering with her in a parking lot about Blanca looking hot fixing a car, she wouldn’t have believed them in a million years.
“So, um,” Ingrid puts her phone away with an uncharacteristic hesitancy. “How was your day? Anything… interesting happen?”
Andy looks at her, confused. There seems to be something specific she wants to ask, but Andy can’t figure out what it might be.
Georgia pulls into the lot then, gets out of her car and Andy runs to her, pulling her into a hug. They haven’t seen each other in a couple of weeks, but it feels like months. Georgia laughs and picks her up, twirling her around a couple of times. She puts her down and starts to go to her wife, but pauses when she sees Blanca pulling a twisted piece of metal out from under the hood of Andy’s car.
“I don’t know how on earth this happened, Andy, but a part that holds your battery in place came loose, twisted around and got caught in your serpentine belt. That racket is it banging against the alternator, which you’re lucky didn’t break. All you need is the part that holds the battery in place and it should be fine, but I’m not sure what it’s called, I’ll look it up and order it for you. Oh, hi Georgia. What, why are you all looking at me like that?”
“You’re right,” Ingrid concedes to Andy. “It’s a little hot.”
Georgia is grabbing some cleaning wipes out of her car to hand some to Blanca. “They think it’s hot you know so much about cars.”
“I really don’t, I don’t have any idea what that part is called,” Blanca shrugs as she cleans her hands. Even this is hot to Andy. “Anyway, the car should stay here until the part comes, I don’t think the battery will just drop out of your car without it, but I don’t want to risk it. We could probably duct tape it, but I’d rather not.” Blanca turns to Ingrid. “Can you still drive us home?”
Ingrid seems to have forgotten why they’re all out here in the parking lot to begin with for a moment, before jumping into action, ushering them into the SUV with a “Of course!”
From the back seat a few minutes later, Andy can hear a hushed conversation between Ingrid and Georgia in the front seat, but doesn’t notice anything is off until Blanca points it out. She’s distracted by the fact that her arm rest is sticky and there seems to be cereal bits on the floor of the car, which is odd because both Ingrid and Georgia strike her as rather clean people.
“Uh, Ingrid? This is not the direction of my apartment,” Blanca points out.
“I’m really sorry, but we have to stop at the school. One of the kids got a bloody nose and is refusing to let the nurse touch it. School is out soon anyway, we might as well pick them both up.”
“The… school? What-” Before Andy can finish her question, they’re pulling up in front of a school and Georgia and Ingrid are rushing out of the car.
A little girl with a bloody nose runs into Georgia’s arms and she picks her up, taking the tissue Ingrid hands her to clean up her nose. A boy with his head buried in a tablet trails behind, and Ingrid pulls him into her side and ruffles his hair.
“Did you tell your sister to stop with the gymnastics on the playground?”
“Yeah, she doesn't listen to me,” he says, not looking up.
“Did you tell her to let the nurse clean up her nose? Why was she being weird about that?”
“Mom, I told you, she doesn’t listen to me.”
Andy has never considered the possibility for one single second that Georgia and Ingrid, or anyone else at the parties for that matter, might have children.
She has about a million questions- are these the only two, or are there more? Are they adopted or did one of them give birth, if so, which one? The kids look about the same age- are they twins? How are Ingrid and Georgia able to go on dates and to parties and their jobs- do they have a regular babysitter? A nanny? How big is their house?
Most importantly, why had no one bothered to tell Andy about them?
“They never talk about them,” Andy says tersely, figuring she can yell at everyone later when not within earshot of said children.
“Mm,” Blanca doesn’t look surprised at all, glancing back down at her phone with a bored expression. “They’re very protective of them. I’ve only met them once when a babysitter fell through a few months ago and I found them in Ingrid’s office playing on tablets. I still feel bad, I was half way through a rant and had said seven swear words before I looked up from the case file and realized I was yelling at two children and not Ingrid.”
Blanca seems to think of something and looks up at Andy with a smirk. “Meeting her kids already? Things must be serious between you and Georgia, huh?”
But Andy is distracted by the woman talking to Ingrid and Georgia, presumably the school nurse since she’s got scrubs on with little spongebob characters on them. Andy feels like she knows her from somewhere, but can’t place her.
Then she sees another person she immediately recognizes- her neighbor is helping get kids on the busses on the other side of the car, the innocent looking teacher that Andy had made small talk with at the BBQ in her building’s courtyard over the summer. It’s not particularly surprising- this is most likely the closest school to Andy’s apartment, so if there are schoolteachers and school nurses in her building it makes perfect sense they’d work here- but the wheels in Andy’s brain are turning, trying to make sense of something she can’t quite put together.
“Blanca’s here?” the boy is saying excitedly. “Can I see her?”
Blanca sticks her head out of the car window and blinks at the boy. “Why do you want to see me?”
“Because, you got me the mystery game, look how far I got!”
The boy is pulling the car door open, rushing inside, grabbing Blanca’s hand, who looks slightly horrified, and dragging her back to the bench seat so they can sit together, him half way on her lap in excitement. Blanca looks up from the game a few times with a pleading, panicked look at Georgia and Ingrid, but they just laugh at her.
“Blanca hates kids,” Georgia explains to Andy quietly. “But too bad for her, they love her.”
“He hasn’t stopped talking about her since he met her, even more so since she sent the kids tablet games to apologize for yelling at them. Yet another victim of the Blanca Reyes charm,” Ingrid says. “Not like any of us can claim we don’t know anything about that. Anyway, Andy, sorry for the chaos. We can bring you home now.”
Ingrid grabs two booster seats out of the trunk, putting one by Blanca and helping the boy into it while Blanca’s eyes shoot daggers at her, one in the middle bucket seats next to Andy which the girl straps herself into silently with a little sniffle.
Ingrid turns around to make sure everyone has seat belts on. Andy gestures to the woman outside. “I think one of the teachers here is my neighbor, she lives in my building.”
Ingrid shoots a smirking look at Georgia, like they have an inside joke about her. “Georgia calls her Not As Skinny Ms. Honey. And her wife Tall Androgynous Kamala Harris.”
“That’s who they look like!” Georgia laughs. “Haven’t you seen Matilda, Andy? Don’t you think?”
Georgia’s right, but Andy doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction of it.
“I don’t think Kamala Harris is in Matilda.”
Georgia laughs, reaching behind to slap her knee. “What a power couple, right?”
“Wait, who’s she married to? Who is Harris?”
“Her name is Ms. Washington,” the boy says with an annoyed sigh, and Andy has the impression he has corrected his parent’s joke about this before.
“The school nurse that we were just talking to,” Georgia explains.
“You’re sure they’re married?”
“Oh, yeah. The kids had a substitute in Ms. Honey’s classroom while the couple was on their honeymoon last year.”
“Her name is Ms. Hale-” the boy complains again.
Georgia shrugs. “They hated that sub, longest honeymoon ever, I wonder where they went to be gone that long. I… can tell you more about them later,” Georgia glances at the children.
Andy can’t stop staring at the children the whole ride to Blanca’s, completely shocked at their existence.
She thanks Georgia and Ingrid as she gets out of the car for the ride. She feels like she should say something to the kids too, but has no idea what. It’s not like she carries around toys in her pocket or something, she never sees kids.
But somehow, it’s the other way around. The girl wordlessly hands Andy a tiny origami paper crane, not making eye contact.
“Um, thanks. That’s cool, did you make it?” Andy awkwardly tries to hand it back to her, but she won’t take it back. “Is it for keeps?”
Ingrid glances back and saves her with a laugh. “It’s for keeps. That means she likes you. You’ve got some charm too, Andy.”
“I… didn’t say anything to her.”
Ingrid shrugs, handing two apple juice boxes back to the kids. “She goes off of vibes.”
Andy realizes why her arm rest was sticky when the girl pierces her juice box sideways with the straw and spills some on the seat. She’s about ready to wake up and realize this entire bizarre day was a fever dream, but when she pinches herself as she walks to Blanca’s car, nothing happens.
“Has the girl ever given you a crane?” Andy asks Blanca as they get inside.
“A what?” Blanca asks as the car starts moving.
“Never mind.” Andy takes a deep breath, tucking the crane carefully in her bag and tries to center herself. “I’m excited for our date, Blanca. Where are we going?”
Blanca gives her a sweet smile that Andy never sees at work. In fact, Andy thinks it might be reserved only for her. “The tapas bar on 5th. Have you been there?”
“No, but it looks fancy. Can’t we get, like, pizza or something sometime?”
“I’m paying.”
“That’s not why I want pizza.”
But Andy lets Blanca drive to the restaurant without a complaint. As usual, Blanca picks the food and the wine, and they cheer the glasses across the table.
“To your money,” Andy says with a smile.
“To you not being impressed with it,” Blanca adds with a laugh, and they both take a sip.
“Blanca, why were you fucking Charleston in her office today?”
Blanca chokes on her wine, grabbing a napkin as she tries to compose herself.
“Jesus fuck, Andy,” she hisses, looking around. “A lot of people in law come here, can you keep it down? And I wasn’t fucking her, she was-“ Blanca stops talking when she realizes the sentence she was about to say isn’t any better than the one she was correcting.
“Like, why don’t you just fuck at your place?”
“We don’t… do that.”
“Do what? Fuck at home?”
“I mean, fuck at all. We haven’t since…”
“Since you started talking again?”
Blanca nods.
“What were you doing in her office today then?”
“We’ve never done that before!” Blanca seems to be trying to keep her voice down but whispers it loudly, like she can’t help herself, then composes herself enough to talk in a low voice. “It was so weird. We fuck at the parties, we fight at work, there’s never been confusion over the boundaries, I don’t know what happened, one second we were fighting like we always do and the next, well, you know what happened next. But we were interrupted. By someone.”
“You didn’t continue after I left?”
Blanca shakes her head. “Never again. We were so, so lucky that was you and not someone else, Andy.”
“But Blanca, are you telling me you and Ingrid aren’t… I mean, didn’t you have a date last week?”
“It’s just weird,” Blanca waves a frustrated hand in the air. “I don’t know what we are anymore. No, we haven’t had sex since, I don’t know, when was our most recent hate sex at a party? I’m afraid of it for some reason. I mean, what am I going to do, have like, regular sex with her? I’m just going to say something nice to her instead of degrading?”
“Blanca…” Andy rolls her eyes so far her head falls back. “First you had a sexual relationship and were afraid of the emotions, and now you have an emotional relationship and you’re afraid of the sex? It must be so fucking stressful to be as stressed as you are about nothing all the time.”
Blanca’s serious, worried face turns into a laugh as her shoulders sag and she looks down, then back up at Andy. “You’re right, Andy. That makes no sense to be stressed about it. I’ll fuck her on our next date,” Blanca winks, “Just for you.”
“Gross, don’t-” Andy makes a face that Blanca seems to find amusing. “Not for me, that’s just weird, Blanca.”
“We’ll think about you the whole time,” Blanca says, enjoying watching Andy squirm.
Their tapas come and as they start to dig in, Andy sighs because she knows she has to bring it up, but isn’t particularly looking forward to the conversation.
“Blanca, we need to talk about how involved you keep getting in my cases and issues at work. I appreciate all your help but I need you to trust me to let me handle things on my own.”
“I do trust you, Andy.”
“Then why did you write a letter to DA Lucas asking for the complaint against me to be dropped?”
Blanca frowns at her. “I wrote a letter to Lucas asking for a meeting to discuss the matter, but I haven’t sent it yet. Things got so hectic today. How did you know about that?”
“Lucas said the complaint against me had been dropped because of a persuasive letter she received. I know it was you, Blanca.”
Blanca doesn’t quite admit it, but she sighs. “I’m sorry, I’ll try to let you do things on your own more. I trust you. I’m glad that stupid complaint was dropped though, it was total nonsense. How was your day otherwise? You said you were having a terrible day earlier? Was it just your car or did something else happen?”
Blanca is using a classic attorney tactic of admitting to something without saying it outright, a half-apology and a moral platitude, followed by a subject change. Andy almost points out that it was Blanca that taught her to recognize this, but decides to drop it. Blanca does seem genuinely sorry, and she doesn’t really want to argue with her. Besides, she has many important things to discuss.
“Actually, I have good news. I’m close to the truth. I can really feel it this time.”
“Oh my god, Andy,” Blanca groans. “Not this again.”
Andy is embarrassed to admit that she has spent a lot of time trying to figure out who her upstairs neighbors are, and a lot of time updating Blanca about her investigation. She has peered in mailboxes, attended every building resident event, and gotten to know all of her neighbors so she can interrogate them.
In her defense, it’s probably less time than she’s had to listen to them have sex.
“Really this time!” Andy swallows her food. “I have ruled out all singles.” She holds up fingers as she counts. “All couples with kids. I’ve ruled out the goth lady, because-“
“Too bad, since you have a crush on her.”
Andy ignores this, not sure how Blanca figured this out since she’s never told Blanca about that detail. “I’ve also ruled out all couples with dogs and most straight people, and it leaves only one couple. I’d initially ruled her out because she seemed too innocent, but I think it’s got to be the teacher we saw today, and the school nurse! I didn’t know they were a couple until today, I thought one of them lived on the second floor, but it all fits!”
Blanca snorts. “Loafer Shoes and Spongebob Scrubs?”
“It’s got to be them! The hours make sense if they’re teachers. They’re married, they both have female voices. The honeymoon timeline even matches when they moved in last year.”
“Many people work on weekdays and have weekends off, Andy. And lots of people have high voices. Are you even sure it’s two women? And I still don’t understand why you can’t just knock on their door if you’re so curious. Ask to borrow sugar or something.”
“I can prove it tonight! I’ll just look at the call box, it’s never been helpful before because it doesn’t have first names. But I’ll compare the last names to the teacher’s names.”
An hour later as they pull up in front of her apartment building, Andy is somewhat surprised that Blanca allows their goodnight kiss to devolve into a makeout session. Blanca won’t usually do anything that seems vaguely juvenile like this, but sometimes she can bat her eyelashes and get Blanca to agree to things. Andy inches closer into Blanca’s lap.
“Andy,” Blanca says against her lips. “Go check the call box.”
Andy leans back with a gasp of excitement. “You are into the mystery! You want it solved just as much as I do!”
Blanca rolls her eyes. “Just check it, Andy.”
Andy grins and jumps out of Blanca’s side of the SUV, earning her a “Oof, ow, Andy!” as she scrambles over her and skips to the building entrance. She’s in #303, so the couple above her are probably #403…
She sprints back to the car and into her side again with a grin. “It’s them.”
“Really?”
“They’ve had such wild sex that dust has fallen on my bed! I can’t believe they’re those teachers. One time I heard a jangle of chains being thrown on the floor. Nah, I feel like that must have been something else, there’s no way…”
Andy’s not even sure where’s she’s trying to go with that sentence. There’s no way that schoolteachers can chain each other up? Innocent looking, vest wearing, bright smiling, bloody nose cleaning… no. There’s just no way.
“Just goes to show you. Can’t judge a book by it's cover.” Blanca leans to give her a quick goodnight kiss that Andy tries to extend again, but Blanca pulls back.
“Nope, you can’t seduce me tonight, I can’t stay late.”
Andy pouts. “We can make it fast. Car sex?”
“Oh my god, no, get out of my car.”
Andy concedes. She’s tired, too.
As she gets inside, Andy peels off her clothes in the bathroom and steps into the steaming shower, sighing in relief. It really has been a very long day.
When she turns off the water, and the room is quiet and full of steam, she hears a moan above her.
Oh, no.
Knowing what they look like has made the sounds become a full 3D picture in her head. She knows what they look like, and she knows what their apartment looks like, because it’s identical to hers besides that they have a nicer remodel and an extra living area space that Andy wouldn’t be able to afford. Yes, Andy has been snooping around this building long enough to know this.
Another moan, louder, and the sound of a bar of soap or shampoo bottle rattling off a shelf and hitting the floor of the shower above her. She can hear the shower running, and a rhythmic, pounding thud. Then, a soft “Ah- AH! Ah-” that would have been too soft for her to hear from her bedroom, but the shower seems to amplify the sound.
She leaves the bathroom quickly, trying to clear her head of the sounds. She can still sort of hear something as she pulls her sweatpants on, so she makes herself a bowl of popcorn since the kitchen is the furthest she can get away from the bathroom and it’s the loudest thing she can think of to make. She slips into bed with the popcorn, something Blanca would never allow, but that’s why living with someone else is overrated. Not only can she eat in bed in peace, nobody ever has to know she’s done it at all.
But more sounds start. The couple seem to have climbed out of the shower and gotten into bed at around the same schedule as her, and now, Andy hears bedsprings squeaking and the bedframe moving above her. She puts headphones in to stream a show on her laptop, but as soon as she does this, she can hear the bed start to pound against the wall in rhythmic thuds. Even if she had noise canceling headphones she’s pretty sure she could feel the vibrations in her own bed.
She gives up, taking off her headphones and laying back in bed, listening guiltily to the rhythmic squeaks, the ceiling rattling above her. God, she’d seen them only a few hours ago, and now they’re…
Do they just take off the teacher's vests and tennis shoes and just…
Andy tries not to let the thoughts get too vivid, but she can hear them so well, and now that she knows what they look like, she can picture everything. She can hear and almost see the teacher getting fucked, her small breasts bouncing, her legs open, her back arching. Then she pictures them flipped, the teacher covering the nurse’s mouth with her hand while she whispers things in her ear and fucks her down into the mattress.
The rhythm stops but the bed is still creaking, like something is moving around, and then it starts back up again after a short pause. Did they just switch places? As in, do exactly what Andy had pictured them doing, as if they can hear her fantasies and have decided to oblige? It’s too much. She shoves her hand down the front of her sweatpants and gasps at how wet she is, her eyes fluttering shut. She turns over onto her stomach, feeling like this is somehow more secretive, gasping again as she rubs into the palm of her hand.
Her phone rings. The ringer was on very low, but it completely startles her. It’s Georgia, so she answers immediately.
“Hello?”
“Andy? Why do you sound out of breath?”
“It’s nothing!” she says, a little too quickly, a little too forcefully.
“Uh, well, I was calling to see if I could see you tomorrow, my schedule suddenly cleared. You sound-”
“Tomorrow’s fine!” Andy says quickly, cursing herself for being unable to act cool.
They hang up just as Andy is starting to hear shouts of pleasure above her. She can never hear what the voices say, only how things are being said, they usually sound like pleasure and sometimes other things she can’t place, but she wants to know so badly what they say to each other, both what they shout and what they whisper. The bed above makes three definitive final loud thumps against the wall as the shouts reach a crescendo and then fade.
Usually, this is the point that Andy falls asleep, but she’s desperate to finish herself off. Then she pauses. The bed is no longer creaking, but she can barely, just barely hear something else above her. Despite knowing she shouldn’t, she stands on her bed so she’s closer to the action, listening intently. There’s a soft, long moan, and something is said in a high, sweet voice.
Andy quickly gets back under the covers, grabbing her vibrator out of the night stand, getting back on her stomach and shoving the vibrator down her pants. Somehow, what’s happening now is worse. Rattling shower sex that throws soap on the floor and that bangs the bed into the wall is nowhere near as erotic as- what is it? One going down on the other? One fucking the other softly and slowly? Are they both going down on each other, moaning and saying things into each other’s-
Andy comes, hard, pitching forward into her pillow so it swallows the sounds she makes, trembling and twitching and gasping for breath as she switches the vibrator off when it feels like too much but keeps being hit by little clenching shockwaves. Something about it immediately pulls her under the cover of sleep, and she wakes the next morning to find the vibrator still in her pants and the laptop and popcorn forgotten in bed next to her, her cheeks burning with the memory of what she had done last night.
“I’m glad you let me eat on the couch,” Andy says to Georgia the next day as they leave the kitchen with plates of spaghetti and garlic bread. “Blanca won’t let me.”
Georgia sits close to her, their knees bumping. They’ve been like this all night, like magnets unable to separate, knocking into each other over and over in the kitchen. It’s made Andy worked up and blushing by the time they’re even done making dinner.
Georgia shakes her head with a frustrated sigh, twirling noodles onto her fork. “Would it be unethical to sneak Xanax into that woman’s food?”
Andy laughs, tempted to share Blanca’s unnecessary stress about Ingrid yesterday, but isn’t sure if she should share it.
Georgia gasps suddenly, picking up a tiny paper crane from atop one of Andy’s many light-up knick- knacks. “Did my daughter give this to you?”
“Ingrid said it means she likes me,” Andy says, feeling proud.
“That’s true,” Georgia smiles an adoring smile that Andy can’t get enough of.
“I put it on top of my tallest salt lamp.”
“I’m going to take that to mean it’s important to you,” Georgia says, leaning somehow impossibly closer, their magnets unable to let them part for long. “I like your apartment by the way, it’s cozy and chaotic but not messy, and it’s very you, it makes me happy.”
Suddenly she frowns, pulling a piece of mail out from where it’s smashed between the cushions.
“Not… very messy,” Andy amends, taking the voter’s guide that came in the mail yesterday from her and throwing it onto the coffee table with a laugh.
“Who are you voting for in congress this year?” Georgia asks.
“I dunno, I don’t follow politics,” Andy says around a forkful of spaghetti. When she looks up at Georgia, she’s looking at her with something between a smirk and a soft smile.
“You don’t have to follow politics, but don’t forget to vote, okay?”
“How did you know I forget to vote sometimes?”
“Because if you didn’t you’d know I’m your representative in congress, have been for six years.”
“What? No you’re not, you got called into work, that doesn’t make sense. I assumed you were a nurse or doctor or something.”
“Why can’t a representative be called into work?”
“At 7pm? Not during a legislative session?”
“Trust me, I don't like the emergency meetings every other day either, but it's part of the job right now."
Andy just stares at her, her brain grinding to a halt. “You have too many tattoos to be in congress.”
Georgia laughs, “That’s what the representative from Arizona said too, I got them after I was elected. I don’t care, I’m not actually running for re-election. I dropped out too late for the voters guide but I won't be on the ballot."
“Why not?”
“I’m trying to pass a bill on term limits. If it passes, I’ve already served the allowed terms. If it fails, I’ll look like an asshole who thinks rules shouldn’t apply to her.”
“Georgia, you live in LA. People in congress live in DC.” She frowns. “I think.”
“I’m here on break. I go back next week. Ingrid wouldn’t move to DC, so I fly back and forth all the time. That’s the other reason I’m not running for re-election. I miss my wife and kids and I’m tired of planes. By the way, do you want me to bring you to a sex party in DC sometime? They’re quite different from here. Ingrid hates them but I love them.”
Andy opens her mouth to say something, then shuts it, forgetting what it even was.
“You know,” Georgia continues thoughtfully, “I suspect that Ingrid wouldn’t move or go to the DC parties because a certain attorney she’s been in love with for 18 years wouldn’t be there, but I’ve never been able to get her to admit to that.”
As Georgia talks, Andy is picking up her crumpled voters guide, trying to flatten it out so she can flip through it. “What’s my district, again?”
Georgia looks annoyed, but Andy finds the right page before she can lecture her on voting again.
“Oh,” Andy says weakly, staring at Georgia’s picture. She looks incredibly professional and pretty, powerful and sweet at the same time. Now that she thinks about it, the full name with “Representative” at the beginning rings a bell. “You’re not lying to me. How did you get into politics?”
“My mom was a senator. Won the election against Ingrid’s uncle 20 years ago. Now she’s retired and takes care of my kids a lot while I’m in DC and Ingrid is busy.”
“You must be the busiest person on earth. How do you have time for me?”
“My mom makes me take time for myself, especially on my breaks. I’m lucky to have her because she understands what it’s like to be in congress and have a family at the same time. Also,” she nudges Andy with her knee, “I like you.”
Andy blushes. “Your wife isn’t mad you spend time with me when you’re here?”
“I’ve barely seen you, Andy.”
Andy would concede this is true.
There’s a small noise above them, which reminds her.
“What were you going to tell me yesterday, by the way? About my neighbors? The couple?”
“Oh, I went to college with Mona. We had an intense connection, a sexual tension I realize now, but I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time.”
“Did you… not know you liked girls?”
“It wasn’t that, we were both out. I was just…” she bites her lip, thinking. “Young and inexperienced with what sexual and romantic connections felt like. Which is, basically, what went wrong. We got in a fight that felt overwhelmingly intensely upsetting, and never talked again. I don’t even remember what it was about now, probably nothing important, it just felt so upsetting to fight that it got out of control.”
“So you never… nothing ever happened?”
“I think one time we got drunk and kissed in her bed? But that’s a little hazy. Anyway, ever since, we have been cursed to run into each other absolutely everywhere. In my twenties I ran into her at restaurants and bars, on the street and at friend’s parties. Then as I got older I would bring Ingrid to a museum or something for her birthday and there she was with her wife there too. Then, of course, she’s my kid’s fucking second grade teacher, and now, your neighbor! Los Angeles has literally millions of people, and it’s not like the queer community is small either like some places. We don’t have the same career, or live in the same neighborhood, but for some reason we’re just cursed to haunt each other forever. Really pisses me off. Anyway, Andy, enough about this, let me ask you about your love life. I thought Blanca said she was going to bed early last night, but you were up late sounding out of breath.”
Georgia sounds neither excited nor upset about it, only curious at the prospect that Andy might have a third person she’s seeing.
“It was nothing,” Andy says quickly. “I was alone.”
Georgia squints at her. “I’m usually good at figuring out if people are lying, but I can’t figure that one out. Is it half true? Phone sex, maybe?”
“It wasn’t a lie, I-” Andy is cut off by the sound of a thump upstairs. It sounds different, it’s not on the bed or in the shower like it usually is. Please don’t be sex, she thinks. They just dropped something, hopefully, surely? A laugh. Another thump. She looks up without thinking, staring at the spot the sounds are coming from, which suspiciously, is up against a wall by the entrance to her apartment.
Georgia, horribly, puts everything together instantly based only on the sounds, the context, and Andy’s cheeks burning.
“Andy, please tell me that I am not listening to my children’s teacher and school nurse screwing each other upstairs, and please tell me that you were not listening to them last night.”
Andy puts her hands over her face. She really needs to stop dating smart women. Where does one find stupid people to date?
“I don’t mean to hear them!” she says in a panicked whisper, well aware that the topic of discussion is mere feet away. “I try to put headphones on, but it doesn’t help!” she adds, praying that Georgia doesn’t judge her.
Georgia only bursts out laughing. “I really hate her. I see her everywhere, now I hear her too, and-”
Georgia is cut off by a startlingly loud thud, as if someone has just been shoved into the wall almost violently. Her eyebrows raise. “Are they… okay?”
Andy knows what Georgia is asking. “I think I’d have to be in the room to know for sure but… I don’t get the impression-” Another thud. “I never hear any yelling or anything,” she finishes.
“Every night?” Georgia asks.
“Not every night,” Andy says quickly. “But… a lot of them. No schedule.”
“Do you touch yourself every time?”
“I’ve never touched myself before!” Andy hisses in embarrassment. “It’s just that I know what they look like now. It made it too vivid, I can see and picture everything.”
“You know we have to get them back, right? Have sex just as loud so they know how loud they are?”
Georgia looks maybe the most excited Andy has ever seen her, but Andy shakes her head, laughing. “I’m the downstairs neighbor, I don’t think it works the other way around. My bed won’t rattle their floor.”
“Oh,” Georgia looks like she’s thinking. “Where can you hear them the best?”
If Andy could be blushing any more, she would be. “They’ve been into a lot of shower sex lately, and I think the shower somehow amplifies sound. If I had to guess, they’ll be getting in the shower in the next-“
Right on cue, the shower above starts. Georgia grabs Andy’s arm, pulling her into the bathroom.
“Wait,” Andy giggles. “They have a nicer shower, two people can’t stand in mine, it slopes too much. Also, I’m not done with my garlic bread,” she’s still holding the bread in hand.
“I’ve never met a shower I can’t fuck in,” Georgia laughs, turning on the water and shoving the bread into Andy’s mouth, taking off her own clothes and then Andy’s. It’s the most unsexy taking off of clothes that’s ever happened, closer to a parent disrobing their toddler, crumbs still falling from Andy’s mouth as she’s pushed into the shower, but she’s still turned on, because… Georgia, wet and naked and bossing her around.
“Oh, this is no problem,” Georgia says. “I just have to be on my knees the whole time.”
Andy could not have predicted only 60 seconds ago that she would be standing in the shower, grasping at the wall with her hands, trying to focus on staying upright and not choking on garlic bread at the same time, which is impossible with what her- oh god - representative in congress is doing on her knees in front of her.
Andy pushes Georgia's head away, swallowing the last of the bread.
Georgia looks worried for a moment. “Sorry, I didn’t even ask if you wanted to and I gagged you so you couldn’t say no-“
Andy just laughs. “We need to switch, that’s all,” she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. “I just can’t hold myself up while you’re doing that. And I’m not very loud.”
Georgia nods and they both almost fall as they switch places, laughing while Andy rinses her mouth with water.
“Oh no,” Andy has a sudden thought as she looks up at her. “You’re really good at this, so you’re going to be unimpressed with me.”
“I’ve seen you eat people out, you did fine,” Georgia says with an amused but impatient expression.
“Really?” Andy says, thinking back. “Who?”
“Andy, please just suck me o- oh!”
Andy doesn’t need to be told twice. She tries to go slow at first like Blanca taught her, but the situation is so exciting she's having trouble slowing herself down. Georgia tastes wonderful but it's muted by the water around them and she has to go hard and deep to get a good taste, dipping her tongue into every fold. When she grabs Georgia’s leg to put it over her shoulder to try to get a better angle, she’s rewarded when Georgia grasps at her head, trying to pull her in closer, and makes a surprised noise high in her throat.
There’s a moan above them, so Andy starts to speed up to catch up with the couple upstairs. Georgia makes a matching moan, though probably not loud enough for anyone upstairs to hear. Andy remembers Georgia’s use of the word “suck” and sucks her clit into her mouth, which results in a much louder moan and Georgia’s hand slapping into the side of the shower for something to hold on to. That, they probably heard. She looks up to see Georgia’s head tilting back, her breasts wet and glistening with water, stiff nipples under her own hands.
“Fingers,” Georgia hisses, and right as Andy obliges the shower upstairs turns off, leaving Georgia’s shout of pleasure loud in the steaming room. There’s no way they didn’t hear that.
Georgia is moaning and squirming against her mouth, so much that Andy has to take her other hand and grab her butt to keep her still, smiling against her. Andy loves everything that’s happening right now- the revenge of the neighbors possibly listening, the hot shower against her back, the taste of Georgia in her mouth, the feeling of her walls squeezing her fingers. When Georgia grabs her hair tightly with one hand, her other hand still on the wall looking for balance, Andy moans and curls her fingers and Georgia screams as she comes suddenly, her head tilted back toward the ceiling.
Andy shifts, her knees a little painful from kneeling on the tile and between her legs throbbing uncomfortably, but this is all going so well she can't help but smile. “Was that shout for the neighbors?” she asks, licking the water on Georgia’s stomach and pulling her fingers out slowly.
“What neighbors?” Georgia asks, and she looks so breathless and her eyes so lidded that Andy’s not sure if she’s joking or not. She lays back in the sloping tub while Andy grabs the soap, soaping up both their bodies as they kiss.
“This is the perfect shower for sex, Andy, you know that, right?” Georgia pulls Andy down on top of her and their soapy bodies slide against each other.
“I know that now,” Andy breathes, she starts to say something about how much this shower had always annoyed her and she didn't realize...she chokes over her words, forgetting what she was on about. The wet of the shower and the slick between Andy’s legs makes it hard to get any friction against Georgia’s leg. If Andy had been clothed she would have come instantly, but instead she bucks desperately against Georgia’s thigh and they kiss before she gains back some little sliver of brain and realizes what she’s doing and how embarrassing it is.
“S-sorry,” she stutters. “Is this okay?” But it feels so good she can’t stop, her forehead dropping onto Georgia’s shoulder.
“This was exactly what I wanted, baby,” Georgia says in her ear, and Andy comes, jerking and shaking and groaning for a long time.
They lay like that, trying to catch their breath, the shower still pounding on them. As Andy returns to the world she realizes that the shower curtain is open and dripping a good amount of water on the floor, because her brain apparently turns to mush around pretty naked women and she has forgotten how a shower curtain works. She stands to turn the water off and help Georgia up, toweling each other off and then throwing the towels on the floor to sop up the water. They’re both overheated from the steamy room and stumble out of the bathroom to lay on the bed with a gasp, their cheeks rosy, hair dripping into the sheets.
“I had plans for what I was going to do with you,” Georgia says, taking the glass of water Andy hands her. “And that was not the plan at all.”
Andy laughs, turning onto her side to prop herself up on one elbow and look down at Georgia, tracing her tattoos with her fingertips. A thud sounds from above.
“Oh, right,” Andy says quietly, not stopping her movements. “This is when they move to the bed usually. I think the thud is one of them throwing the other on the bed. Then there’ll be a pause,” they both look up at the ceiling. “I think this is when one of them is putting on a strap-on.”
“You’ve really thought about this in a lot of detail, Andy,” Georgia says, and looks like she’s going to give her a hard time about it, but they hear the bed springs above them start to squeak and a long moan above them. It becomes slow and rhythmic and they can hear a voice talking lowly and sweetly. Andy is instantly back to wet and throbbing as if she hadn't come only a minute ago, climbing on top of Georgia to kiss her feverishly.
When Andy pulls back to breathe, Georgia closes her eyes for a moment, looking almost embarrassed. “Andy,” she breathes as Andy kisses her neck and her collar bones to try and tell her whatever she wants to ask is okay. “Do you own a strap-on?”
Andy stills against her. “No,” she says with regret. The one Blanca bought her is kept at Blanca’s place, they rarely hook up at Andy’s. “But, god, Georgia, if I had one, trust me,” Andy’s not usually good at dirty talk but the words are coming out faster than she can think about them, “I would fuck you so hard-”
“I brought one,” Georgia says in a rush. Now she really does look embarrassed. “It’s clean and sanitized, but not new, is that okay?”
“Yeah,” Andy breathes as more moans sound above them. Georgia is up in a flash, grabbing it from her bag, and Andy is relieved that she straps it on Andy for her because she’s pretty sure she’s way too turned on to have the mental bandwidth to figure it out.
Georgia scrambles on top of her immediately, sinking herself down on the toy with a whimper. She leans back with a hand on Andy’s thigh, adjusting like she’s trying to find a good spot inside her, and her eyes flutter closed when she seems to find it with a gasp. Andy sits up to kiss her neck and nipples. Georgia starts making “Ah-ah!-ah!” sounds that Andy is almost certain anyone upstairs could hear her. She puts her hands on Georgia's hips and back, encouraging her to move faster.
Above them, there’s a pause, and they both look up.
“Maybe they heard us?” Georgia whispers, still slowly rocking up and down as Andy nips at her collar bone.
“I think they’re switching places.”
“Do they switch who’s wearing the strap or do they just switch who’s on top?” Georgia asks, breathless, her lips pink and parted.
Andy makes a face to imitate Georgia. “You’ve really thought about this in a lot of detail, Georgia,” she says. If they both weren’t so turned on, they would have laughed, but neither of them can.
“Do you want to…?” Andy swallows. “Do the same?”
Georgia nods and Andy flips them gently so she’s on top, kissing and sucking on Georgia’s neck as she starts to move inside her. Georgia seems completely absorbed in Andy and the sounds upstairs, but Andy’s mind can’t stop thinking about what she’s wearing. Georgia had said it was clean, but not new, which probably means it’s what Georgia and Ingrid use at home. There’s a very high possibility she’s currently using Charleston’s strap to fuck her wife. It makes her feel powerful, or like she’s doing something she’s not supposed to. She thinks about Charleston ignoring her at work, well, she wouldn’t be ignoring her if she could see this. Andy has never had any kind of power trip fantasy in her life, but it’s crazy what these thoughts are doing to her. She might be almost as loud as Georgia.
The sounds upstairs are reaching a peak. Andy’s plan had been to go longer than them, so when they’re quiet and winding down they could hear them, but both her and Georgia are not going to make it that long. Georgia has either already come once or was just being loud, and Andy is past the point of no return, shouting her pleasure into the pillow before Georgia pulls her head up so it’s not muffled with a laugh.
Suddenly, there’s complete silence above them. They may have made it longer than the couple after all. Then there’s voices, but they don’t sound like sex voices, just a conversation, and then they hear footsteps across the apartment and someone leaves out the front door.
Andy freezes. Is one of them coming down here to yell at them? Did them being loud cause the couple to have a fight about it and one of them is leaving? She looks down at Georgia, confused and surprised, then even more so when the voices continue talking above them.
“Andy,” Georgia says, confirming what Andy had started to suspect. “I think there’s three of them.”
And just like that, Andy’s Upstairs Neighbor Mystery is no longer solved.