On the Edge of a Knife
"Trust is something that comes easy when you've never been a victim."
~Face to Face, Disconnected.
"How'd we get stuck with this stupid job again?" Catalina groaned. She dropped a poorly peeled potato into a huge stockpot and reached for another.
"K.P. is part of the duty roster," Hawkeye replied calmly. "All the first years have to do it at some point."
"But seriously, peeling potatoes? How cliché can you get?" Catalina added, scraping her knife petulantly across the mottled skin of the vegetable in her hand. "I feel like I'm in one of those comic strips about military life."
"Would you rather be washing dishes?" Hawkeye countered, eyes flicking to the other end of the kitchen. Under the watchful eye of the regular kitchen staff, two other cadets were vigorously scrubbing pots, sweating profusely and shooting envious glares at the two girls and their vegetables every few minutes. A third cadet was whistling tunelessly to himself as he wrestled the bucket and mop out of the utility closet.
"Point taken," Catalina sighed, thinking of the damage hot soapy water would do to her lily-white hands. She snuck another glance at her partner.
Naturally, all of Hawkeye's potatoes were perfectly smooth and white and completely free of eyes and those funny little dark spots. Plus she'd already finished peeling nearly twice the number Catalina had. Catalina glared at her resentfully for a moment, until she realized that the other girl wasn't going to look up any time soon.
"Well, at least we're on K.P. together," Catalina finally added, pouting a little. "I'd hate to be stuck down here with Smythe or Winters for a whole rotat—YEOW!" she yelped, dropping her paring knife with a clatter and reflexively clutching her hand to her chest. "Motherfucking FUCK!"
Hawkeye flew to her side as the other occupants of the kitchen looked around in alarm.
"Are you all right? Let me see it," she demanded, trying to pry Catalina's left hand away from the cut on her right. The brunette's eyes had welled up with involuntary tears, which she quickly blinked away, knowing that everyone was watching.
"I'm okay, it's just a scratch," she said quickly, waving off the concerns of the kitchen staff. "It's not that bad, I don't think, it just really hurt!" she added more quietly, for Riza's benefit. As the others slowly turned back to their own varied tasks, Rebecca allowed Riza to lead her over to the sink and run the injured finger under the tap. As the streaks of blood washed away, the tension slowly left Riza's face.
"Okay, good. It's not very deep," she confirmed softly. "Hold on, let me go and get a first aid kit." She rummaged around in one of the cabinets for a moment, and returned to Rebecca with a bandage and some ointment.
"Thanks," Rebecca muttered, a little embarrassed by her earlier outburst. It was just a teensy cut; nothing to squeal over. "Sorry; I didn't mean to yell so loud."
"It's all right," Hawkeye said, gently taking her hand and tending to the small wound with her usual cool efficiency. "And you don't have to apologize for anything. Just because it's not life-threatening doesn't mean it didn't hurt."
Rebecca blinked in surprise: Hawkeye 's gentle empathy was completely sincere. She didn't even have that faintly superior expression that Catalina had come to recognize on the faces of her peers, the one that said 'you're just an attention-seeking little tart, aren't you?'
No, Riza was a horse of a different color…Riza actually cared about her.
"It could have been a lot worse, I guess," Rebecca said lightly, attempting to hide her sudden swell of emotion. "I'm just lucky that the knives aren't all that sharp." Hawkeye frowned a little.
"Actually, you're more likely to have an accident with a dull knife than with a properly sharpened one," she explained, moving back to the sink to wash the excess ointment and smears of Rebecca's blood from her hands. "You have to use more force when you're slicing things with a dull blade, which gives you less control, and can consequently lead to nastier accidents."
"Huh, really?" Catalina replied, wiggling her newly bandaged fingers. Hawkeye had done quite a professional job.
"Mm hm," the blonde answered absently, already looking for something else under the sink. "Here," she added, surfacing with a box of disposable gloves. "Put one of these on over it. Just in case it keeps bleeding."
"Oh, right. Thanks," Rebecca said, plucking a glove from the box with a small smile. Hawkeye smiled back, a little bit shyly, and then returned to the mountain of potatoes still waiting to be peeled.
Rebecca watched her for another moment, thoughtfully. Unlike her, Riza kept the blade of the paring knife turned towards herself, with her index finger resting along the blunt edge. As she turned the vegetable with sure, deft little movements, the business end of the knife came dangerously close to the thumb that rested on the unpeeled portion, just millimeters away. And yet, she hadn't slipped up once, and the peel of each potato came off in one long, continuous spiral.
Slowly, Catalina picked up another potato from the monstrous pile and tried to match Hawkeye's technique. She fumbled with it a little, frowning. How did Hawkeye make this look so easy? Feeling her friend's eyes on her, Hawkeye glanced over again.
"Something wrong?" she asked quietly. Rebecca shook her head.
"I was just wondering…" she trailed off, trying to decide exactly what she wanted to ask. Hawkeye stared at her for a minute, and then a flicker of hurt crossed her face. It was gone before Rebecca was even sure she'd seen it.
"I think I understand. If you wanted to head over to the infirmary, I can take care of the rest of these," Hawkeye offered, gesturing at the potatoes. Although she sounded sincere, her pretty brown eyes had taken on a hard, wary look that Rebecca had never seen in them before.
"What, alone?" she squeaked out.
"It's fine," Hawkeye said, turning away.
"No, it's not!" Rebecca protested. She couldn't understand why Hawkeye sounded so resigned.
"I won't rat you out for leaving early, if that's what you're concerned about," Hawkeye replied softly, already halfway done with her next potato.
"Rat me…Riza, what the hell are you talking about?" Rebecca demanded, touching her friend's shoulder to get her attention. She didn't miss the way Riza flinched at the touch. But Hawkeye recovered herself quickly, and when she looked up at Rebecca, her face was carefully blank.
"It's fine, Catalina. Go ahead and go; I've got this."
"Seriously, Riza, my finger is fine! Why would you even suggest—oh my god," she gasped. "People have done that before, haven't they? Skipped out on you?"
Lots of times, Riza wanted to say, just not in the way you mean.
"Once or twice," she admitted, averting her eyes.
"Let me guess," Rebecca said slowly. "Someone sold you a line about having a big test to study for, or a hot date, or some other really big important thing that had to be done right then and there, right?" she asked, bitterness seeping into her voice. "And, oh, hey, you wouldn't mind finishing up on your own, right? Since you're such a cool person and all? They'll, like, totally, make it up to you next time, yeah?"
Riza bit her lip, suddenly unsure of herself. Clearly she wasn't the only one who'd been taken in.
"You're injured," she murmured. "If you wanted to have your wound checked out in the infirmary, I'd understand."
"I'm FINE. The fuck, you really think I'd up and ditch you? Like one of those selfish cows? I guess it's nice to know what you really think of me!" Rebecca snapped, eyes flashing.
"I didn't—that's not what I meant," Riza objected quietly.
"Then why are you saying this shit?" Rebecca retorted, pressing forward into Riza's personal space. On the opposite end of the kitchen, the rest of the kitchen staff was just beginning to realize that something was going on between the two girls. Riza squirmed a little under the added scrutiny.
"You were just complaining that you didn't want to do this. And you are hurt," she said, fighting to keep calm. "And you wouldn't be the first person to skip out on me, no."
"It's because you're too goddamn nice!" Rebecca snapped. "You can't just go around letting people take advantage of your kind nature!" Noticing that Riza's eyes kept flicking back to the other occupants of the kitchen, she spared a moment to shoot a nasty glare at them. Their whispering stopped abruptly, and they wisely averted their eyes and decided to let the two girls work out their troubles on their own. "You need to stand up for yourself, do you hear me?" Rebecca hissed, punctuating her words with sharp little jabs to Hawkeye's shoulder.
"Catalina," Riza interrupted softly, eyes downcast.
"No, you listen here, Riza Hawkeye," Rebecca said firmly, narrowing her own eyes. "First of all, I would never ditch you like that. And I'm kinda pissed that you assumed I would! You are my friend, you got that? And friends don't pull that kind of bullshit on each other. Second of all, we were both assigned to this stupid, lame-ass kitchen patrol. And even if I don't like it, it's my duty as a cadet in the Amestrian Military Academy to follow the orders I'm given. More importantly, it's my duty as your friend to share the burden of the task we were both assigned and muddle through it together!"
"Catalina," Riza said again. "You're—"
"Nope, I've barely even got a scratch, so you can spare me the 'you're injured' bullshit," Rebecca went on, unheeding. "That's...enabling, or whatever you call it, and you're damn lucky I'm not the kind of bitch who'd take you at your word and skip cheerfully out the door, or you'd be stuck here for hours slaving over these fucking things," she added, brandishing a potato somewhat wildly.
"Catalina," Riza tried once more, a little bit louder.
"WHAT?!" Rebecca screeched. The others winced at the sudden noise, but kept their attention very firmly on their pots and pans.
"Your cut is bleeding again," Riza said calmly, pointing at Rebecca's flailing hand.
"Oh, god DAMN IT!" the other girl snarled. She inspected her bandaged finger intently for a moment. "Forget it; it's not gushing or anything," she finally said. "And anyway the glove will keep it off the stupid potatoes. Now will you please shut up about my leaving and just show me how in the hell you're doing that so perfectly?" Riza just blinked at her for a second, nonplussed by the abrupt change of topic and tone.
"What? Oh, um...yes, here," she said, picking up a potato and waiting for Rebecca to do the same. "Hold it in your left hand, like that. And then put your right index finger here, and your thumb here, just like this, see? And then you just rotate it with your left hand, and keep guiding the knife with your right thumb, and…and that's it, really," she explained quickly, still bemused. "There's not much to it."
"God, I'm gonna slice my whole hand off at this rate," Rebecca said nervously, as she clumsily imitated her friend.
"No you aren't," Riza said reassuringly. "Remember that you're completely in control. You're the one guiding the knife, not the other way around. It can't do anything that you don't make it do."
"Huh," Rebecca said wonderingly. "Never thought of it like that. You know, this is much easier than the way I was trying to do it. Where'd you learn how to do this?"
"What, peel potatoes?" And again with the bewildered look. Which Rebecca thought was rather adorable on her.
"No, cook," Catalina corrected her, hiding a smile. "Before, you said you were pretty young when your mom died. So who taught you all this stuff?"
"Oh," Riza replied with some surprise. "Well, I was pretty young, I suppose. But…my mother knew she was really sick, and she wanted to make sure I could look after myself and my father once she was gone. So we started having lessons, each night. Though I didn't realize that that's what she was doing at the time. For years, I just assumed that she'd really enjoyed cooking. Something my father said finally tipped me off," she admitted, quietly.
"Dammit, why do you have such a tragic backstory?" Rebecca whined, finishing her potato with a little flourish and reaching for another. "It makes it really hard to stay annoyed with you."
"So sorry," Riza said dryly. "I'll try to be a little less pitiful so you can get back to scolding me, shall I?"
"Oh, shut up, that's not what I meant at all, and you know it."
"All right," Riza conceded. "Then what did you mean?" she asked carefully. Rebecca frowned, considering.
"I guess I wanted to know…why you do it?" she asked quietly. "When the others stick you with their chores, how come you let them get away with it?"
"You make it sound like I always let people walk all over me," Riza observed, stealing a glance at Rebecca's profile.
"Do you?"
"I'm not some pathetic little pushover," Riza protested. "Although there are certainly people who drag their feet and waste time complaining about whatever the assigned task is, it's not as if I end up doing the lion's share of the work on every rotation."
"Then what about the people who've skipped out and left you holding the bag, huh?"
"It only happened twice, back when I first got here," Riza said defensively. "They were seniors and I didn't know how to refuse when they asked."
Well, she really had known better; she wasn't that naïve. But she hadn't been quick enough to protest their flimsy excuses, and they'd made their escapes while she'd still been standing there stunned and gaping at their audacity.
"Okay, fine, but why didn't you say anything afterwards? Lodge a complaint or ask to be reassigned to another rotation or something?" Rebecca persisted.
"I…I suppose I was just trying to get along with everyone. They already disliked me; I didn't want to make it easier," Hawkeye murmured, slightly embarrassed. She sounded a bit pathetic after all.
"Well, since when do you care what people think of you? I thought we agreed that the other girls here are idiots," Rebecca said, looking over at her.
Riza mumbled something under her breath.
"Sorry, what was that?" Rebecca asked, leaning closer. Riza sighed.
"I said: I don't really care what the other girls think about me. I do, however, care what you think," she said, blushing slightly. "And I assumed…well, never mind. I'm sorry that I doubted you."
The last of Rebecca's frustrations melted away.
"Riza, put that knife down a sec," she ordered. Without thinking, Riza complied.
Rebecca promptly threw her arms around her and squeezed with all of her strength. The other cadets and kitchen staff still present exchanged amused shrugs and smirks, as if to say: Hey, it's Catalina, what can you do? The girl is nuts.
"Rebecca," Riza gasped, struggling ineffectually. "You-you can let me go now, please."
"Admit it. You like me," Rebecca demanded, grinning maniacally. "You were going to let me get away with outrageous behavior because you like having me around, and you didn't want to risk losing me if you made a fuss over it."
"Starting to reconsider," Riza wheezed, but she was smiling when Rebecca released her.
"Riza, darling, I hate to break this to you, but it's definitely too late to escape my clutches. Make all the fuss you want, but you're stuck with me, now," Rebecca said happily.
"Be still, my heart," Riza said dryly. But warmth flooded through her chest, and she gently bumped her shoulder against Rebecca's in an affectionate gesture that the other girl had often used on her. "Come on, let's get back to work before they accuse us of making a disturbance and try to have us switched to cleaning the latrines."
"Oh god, anything but that!" Rebecca moaned. "I hate scrubbing toilets. Hey, speaking of which, I was on latrine duty last month with Winters, and I just heard that she and one of the new guys were caught trying to sneak back in past curfew last night…"
As Rebecca babbled on about the latest hot gossip, Riza couldn't help but marvel at the ease with which their first real argument had been resolved.
"Hey Catalina?" she said, at the next pause in Rebecca's story.
"Hm?"
"You're stuck with me, too, you know," she said shyly. Rebecca's smile lit up her face.
"Damn straight," she replied. "And don't you forget it!"
A.N. Special twofer today since this was originally one long chapter...made more sense in my head to break it up :D As always, constructive criticism is welcome and appreciated!
xoxo Janie