The first couple of weeks were rough. Two very different people, and very solitary people, living under the same roof? It was tense. Rouge and Shadow often butted heads, and bickered. Despite this, they'd been issued the same government owned apartment, and told they'd be working very closely together. The commander appointed Shadow as Rouge's partner, believing she'd be able to keep them under control.
When she asked around about the brooding agent, she was met with sighs and "stay in your lane"'s. So she started doing what she does best; thieving. Though, rather than precious jewels, she was after information. She bribed, lied, manipulated, and dug until she hit a dead end. Then she drilled through that dead end, and kept digging. Project Shadow was definitely top secret, not to be discussed anywhere but behind closed, bolted, sound-proofed steel doors. But that didn't stop her. If she was going to be working with them, she needed to actually get to know them first. And confronting Shadow directly wasn't working. So she got tedious.
Finally, Rouge stumbled upon a sparse and well hidden file. Thin manila folder containing the least amount of information it could. All it told was the very basics of the incident and the arrest files. Most of what happened was well covered up and buried, and most of the people who were there were long dead now. Rouge initially was quite irritated with the pathetic find, until she looked a bit further to see a small sealed box labeled 'evidence'.
Carefully, she picked it up, and slid her nail in the taped fold of the box. When she wrestled it open, the contents were surprisingly not...'Evidency', as she'd elegantly thought it. No guns, unidentifiable vials, gross skin flakes, or weird scraps of particulates, just a hair band, ribbon, and a broken picture frame. It looked more like belongings of one individual rather than general evidence from a crime scene.
Though she understood they certainly qualified as evidence, it isn't what she would've expected from this particular incident. She gently removed the picture frame, to reveal a dusty, partially burnt photograph. A girl. It was a girl, the edges of her frame singed from flames that had engulfed the picture. She'd remembered reading about a girl, and vaguely remembered Shadow mentioning a girl who fit the profile. Rouge put two and two together and decided that this must belong to her.
"That would mean that this is a dead girl's stuff. Oh, god." Her eyes crinkled, and her brows scrunched together. She got strangely sentimental, and felt obligated to bring some sort of respect to what may be all that's left of the girl. She decided, against her own objections, to bring these belongings back to Shadow. The only one left alive who knew the girl.
Rouge had been hesitant at first. But she finally caved, and offered the artifact's she'd found to her reserved roommate and partner. She thrust the opened box into their hands, her face twisted in worry and possibly pity. She noticed Shadow begin to shake, and braced herself for the worst.
Instead of lashing out for meddling in their business, she'd looked down to be greeted with a bleary-eyed Shadow, cradling the box in their hands. She blinked, mouth slightly agape. This had been the first time Rouge saw any emotion in those fiery red eyes that wasn't insurmountable rage.
No words were exchanged, but it was obvious that they were grateful.
They argued less, and talked more. Shadow learned of Rouge's mother, or her 'Mama', as she'd so fondly call her. Shadow spoke fondly of the girl, Maria. They shared happy memories. Rouge smiled as they talked, and exchanged stories about their loved ones.
"Once, I brought a girl back to Mama. Sasha. She was pretty, she was sweet, and had the nicest, golden eyes. Mama loved her of course. For once, I was dating someone who treated me right. Who had a nice steady job. Soon it all ended. Mutually, mind you. She wanted to settle down, and I wanted to travel the world. Mama always chided me about that, said I had a good thing going and I gave it all up for pretty gems and petty theft." She'd laughed and Shadow smiled.
"She's probably right, you know. A nice, calm life with someone you love. Instead you go around stealing gems and causing mayhem."
"Oh, you sound just like her." She waved a dismissive hand and Shadow chuckled. It was a nice sound to hear from them. "C'mon, where's my Clyde? I mean you don't have to settle down to be happy! Sasha knew that. She got that. She said I needed a partner in crime, some shady chick in a junker to travel the world with. I always said she needed a stay at home dad who paints for a living."
"That's quite the specific scenario."
"Well, we were young. And dumb."
"Ah, to be young again. You know, we did that too. Made up ridiculous far-fetched fantasies, in case either of us ever made it down to Earth. She always wanted to be a middle-aged woman with fifty plants, living alone in a tiny apartment overlooking the city. She never talked about settling down, she just wanted to surround herself with plants. She liked succulents and cacti specifically."
Rouge snorted. "What about you?"
Shadow blinked, and their features softened. "I was always fond of the ocean. Maria spoke so highly of it, and showed me old movies set near the ocean. Pictures, books, movies. I'd taken an interest in it. I've always wanted to live near a beach. They're lively."
She smiled, and after a moment of silence, she nudged them with her elbow. "We should go to one! Like, on a vacation. See the coast, and the sketchy little towns around it, all that good stuff."
Shadow looked up, surprised for a moment, and nodded. "That would be...Nice."
After a particularly bad nightmare on Shadow's part, Rouge insisted they share beds. It didn't matter where, just wherever the two found themselves crashing. Shadow grew accustomed to being in such close proximity with another living being, even began to enjoy it. They found it comforting. Rouge was rather large in comparison, and sometimes woke up to find herself holding Shadow like a teddy bear.
And some times she'd kick them off the bed in her sleep.
"Mama always said I was a lover, not a fighter. But I'm beginning to think I'm an awful mix of both."
Shadow always forgave, but would sometimes joke about Rouge's sleeping habits afterwards.
Shadow slept much differently. Curled up, defensive, always pressed to something. They woke up at any and all noises. They slept quietly, and Rouge snored. Loudly. Sometimes her snoring would wake Shadow up, but after a while they'd gotten used to it. It became like white noise to them.
Eventually Shadow started sleeping by the wall, so Rouge couldn't knock them off the bed in the middle of the night.
Shadow started getting more physically affectionate. Hugging Rouge, kissing her on the cheek, laying their head on her shoulder. Rouge found it endearing and thought nothing more of it. But, during one specifically bad night, after a harsh and taxing mission she found herself returning their affections. Rather reverently. Her lips found theirs, and she pinned them against her bed, laying soft kisses against marred flesh and patchy fur.
They ran their fingers through her hair, digging their claws into her fur. They gasped, and heaved, tears soon spilling down their cheeks as they pulled her against their chest. She nuzzled against their fur, kissing the gashes that had yet to heal in an attempt to force them closed.
Rouge pulled herself up and held Shadow's face. She kept repeating a phrase they could hardly hear through the sobs, but they could guess what it was. They said it too, and soon both muffled their garbled speech against each other's lips.
Both soon passed out in one another's arms. The next morning wasn't awkward or tense. The air swelled with not regret, but relief.
Nothing had changed between the two. They both accepted that it wouldn't. They were still affectionate towards each other, they still fought side by side, and they still cared for each other. Rouge said they'd always been like this, they just didn't know what it meant until now.
She'd also decided, that despite being so close, they both had a long, long way to go in life. And both decided, they'd go it together.
Closer, closer still. Nothing's changed.