Last little fic of the year, finally breaking out my OC Vanessa for pre-NYE a drabble.
"Do those stretches before and after practice, and it wouldn't kill ya to take a real rest. Put the guitar down for a couple days."
"Dat sound maybe a little, euughh, extremes to me."
Abigail didn't have to guess who occupied the tiny office connected to Vanessa's studio. Setting her mat and water bottle in her usual spot, she slipped off her sandals and crossed the warm teak floor to lean in the open doorway.
"Well if you can't do that, at least try to do a couple ice soaks daily and keep that inflammation down. You're cruisin' for a strain injury."
The soft rapping of Abigail's knuckles on the doorframe pulled both Skwisgaar and Vanessa's attention, the latter checking the watch face at the inside of her wrist with a quiet exclamation.
"Crap, sorry Ab. I'll be out in a second, we're just about done." She flashed an apologetic grin, swiveling on her stool to face Skwisgaar seated on the treatment table. "Still swimming?"
"Ja, was headed dere next." He flexed his fingers, testing his range of motion. Bright blue stripes of kinetic tape circled his wrists and webbed up between his knuckles.
"Good. Come back in the morning and I'll tape ya up again. We'll do that for a couple of days and see how you're feeling." She made a note in the planner balanced on her thigh.
Skwisgaar slid off the table, still eyeing his digits. "I cans still play? Dis tapes am goingk to slows me down."
"Someone has to."
"Pfft." He frowned but didn't argue further, squatting instead to address the golden brown dog curled in the corner. "Your mom ams a real bossy lady, Toasty-boy."
The Shiba whined and stretched, leaning into Skwisgaar's petting, his tail thumping against the wall. With a last scratch between the ears, Skwisgaar rose and turned for the door with a soft smile, and Abigail couldn't help but mirror it as their eyes met. He gestured for her to enter first, rather than step back for him to leave. "Watch out for dis one," he murmured, conspiratorial. "She does a real professkionals workouts wif you, den when your guard am down she slaps you ass and tell you 'good games.' I t'ink she some kinda poirvert."
Abigail dropped her voice to match. "Why do you think I keep coming back?"
Skwisgaar snorted. His fingertips grazed her back as he squeezed by but he avoided the exposed patch of skin between her yoga pants and tied off t-shirt. "Sees you later?"
She nodded, watching his exit over her shoulder. When she turned back, Vanessa was chewing the cap of her pen, every tooth exposed in a Cheshire grin.
"That's what I wanna know!" She waved the crimped end of the pen between Abigail and the doorway. "That was all sorts of charged. Give. Me. Details."
The bridge of her nose stung as blood rushed to her face, but Abigail adopted a clueless expression. "You're imagining things. Lay off the weed gummies."
"Oh please." Vanessa kicked her feet jauntily onto the taping station. "I'd pay to watch that is all I'm saying."
The trainer cackled and Abigail slid past her, crouching to pick up where Skwisgaar had left off. She scratched Toast under the collar, taking a moment to gather her composure.
"You coming to Tamika's new year's soirée tonight?" A clunky diversion, but it was the first thing that came to mind. Quiet stretched for a long moment and Abigail chanced a look over her shoulder now that her blushing was under control. The other woman was staring thoughtfully out the door into the studio. "Ness?"
"Yeah I think I can make that." Her almond shaped eyes crinkled with devious amusement, then she let her feet drop to the floor and kicked off her hightops. Vanessa clapped her hands together as she hopped upright. "Alright. Let's go see if you can flow smoother than you can lie."