Three woke up slowly. Slower than she should've, she was going to have to double down on her training. She couldn't afford to slip like that in the field. Thankfully, she was warm and comfortable enough that she was in some sort of bed and unlikely to be jumped the moment she moved. She moved to stand up but found herself held down.
Three immediately went into high alert. This bed was more comfortable than the mismash of cushions she used as a bed at home. What could she last remember? She frantically craned her neck around to try and get a better view of whatever was holding her immobile. She felt her head bash into something behind her and heard a startled squawk.
As predicted, Pearl's voice was destroyed. Though neither of them enjoyed shirking their duties, they weren't above making the most of an extended break and had dedicated the afternoon to lounging around the living room. "Riiiina," Pearl rasped, waving her arms as wildly as she could without sitting up. "Quiet, you need to rest your voice," Marina admonished, not moving her gaze from her phone. Enough octolings were getting through to the surface that some news outlets had noticed, and Marina was reading through every comment of the inkopolis residents. Even if she was famous, she wasn't above being a bit worried about how the squids would accept her people.
Pearl was saved from escalating her attention grabbing efforts by Eight's indignant squawk. Marina looked up, "Sounds like the agents are awake. Or at least one of them." She put her phone away. Pearl quickly wrote a message on the notepad she had claimed for the day and showed it to Marina, "Money on Three woke up and couldn't handle the cuddles?"
"You're on," Marina answered without hesitation, "I'll start some food, you go round them up." Pearl nodded and Marina opened the cupboards to see what they could quickly throw together.
Eight woke up very quickly. Similar to Three, the manner of her waking gave her some concern, though her concern revolved more around "ouch" and "I'm under attack" and less around getting rusty in her training. Despite her massive loss of pre-metro memories, Eight hadn't lost an ounce of her combat instincts or mental acuity. It also left her with very few memories to keep track of when figuring out what was happening. Three had just headbutt her. Her first priority was to make sure that Tartar hadn't somehow re-established control. Thankfully, Eight had a major advantage in that she already had Three grappled.
While Eight still had the initiative she had to get a clear view of Three's face while simultaneously making sure that the potentially tartar-controlled inkling couldn't retaliate. Eight jumped above Three while grabbing both of the inkling's wrist in her left hand. With only a moment of pause, Eight flipped Three onto her back and pinned her wrists on the headboard. The octoling centered her weight onto Three's pelvis, leaving the inkling helplessly kicking against their still tangled legs. Eight pressed their faces close together, staring into Three's right eye for any signs that the stain was still more than scar tissue.
Three's world had just flipped itself over and she found herself even further constrained. "Fuck, Three gasped out, partially from the pain of her wrists grinding up against the wood and partially from surprise. "Hey guys…" Pearl whispered with all the gusto her voice could muster as she threw open the door. Before either inkling could continue, Pearl and Three's eyes met for the longest moment of either of their lives.
The first thing Pearl noticed was the position of the two agents. The way Eight was holding her body above Three, with Three's wrists in a stranglehold. The two cephalopod's faces being so close together. Three's explicit gasp immediately before Pearl entered. The disheveled appearance of both agents. Combine that with the sheets obscuring everything below the shoulders, and it wasn't hard for Pearl to draw a conclusion about what she had walked in on.
"B… W…" Pearl's eyes asked a far more coherent question than her voice. There's nothing wrong here; we just need to explain to Pearl that nothing is happening, Three rationalized. Before she could open her mouth, Three felt a hand on her chin. No, Eight couldn't be doing something more. Three felt her gaze being forced back to EIght's face. Three was too paralyzed to resist. "No," Eight demanded, "Look at me."
Three was going to have a heart attack any moment now and ascend out of this situation. It was over, there was no salvaging this. Even if Three could come up with a reasonable explanation for this, there's no way she'd be able to deliver it convincingly. Eight leaned in closer to the point that Three could feel her nose touch the octoling's cheek.
That was too much for Pearl to handle. "Take your time," Pearl yelled and fled the room. Slamming the door behind her. "Pearl, your voice," Marina could be heard yelling back from the other room. Pearl rushed up to Marina and immediately began making a series of noises. It wasn't the best description, but even with two languages under her belt Marina was utterly unable to make any sense of it beyond "Pearl is distressed." Pearl eventually scrambled for her notebook, and wrote SEX in large font on the center of the sheet. Ordinarily Marina would write it off as Pearl being overly excitable, but the inkling's blush and distress spoke for itself. Marina grabbed her phone and started playing some loud music.
Three was left frozen, staring deeply into Eight's eyes. First she noticed the deep blue shade they had, then the purpose and intensity that they held while flitting around. Three could feel the octoling's controlled breath in contrast with her own near hyperventilation. Three traced the curves and points of the tinge that circled each of Eight's eyes. She had never seen an octoling's eye mask this close, it was a difference between the two species but also a similarity.
While Three was involuntarily examining the octoling's eyes and face, Eight finished her examination of the inkling. She couldn't find the slightest sign of the telltale brainwashing sludge. "Sorry about that," Eight said, releasing Three's chin and leaning back to a safe distance, "I needed to make sure that you hadn't been taken over again."
"Ah, um, that's… good," Three was still recovering, "could you warn me next time? That was… fucking intense." There was a pause. "And, could you let go of my hands please." Eight sheepishly did as Three asked. When Three immediately massaged her wrists, Eight winced more than Three did. "Sorry," Eight repeated.
"Shit," Three suddenly remembered their hosts outside. The idols still thought they were… Unable to finish the sentence, Three flushed and leapt to her feet. "It's not what it looked like," she was already declaring as she ran out the door.
Eight tilted her head in confusion but followed along.
Pearl and Marina's apartment was essentially a kitchen/living room combo with a handful of bedrooms spoked off of it, so Three's outburst was easily audible even over the music. Pearl and Marina were each making their breakfast food of choice, Marina swapping out waffles from the iron while browsing her phone and Pearl making a game of flipping pancakes progressively higher in the air. "Thank god, I hate that song," Marina said as she closed the music app, "So how'd it go?"