Beau only finds out because Jester starts messing with her things, which is surprising to absolutely nobody ever.
But Jester has a knack for finding the most random things in her friends’ apartments, things the Nein didn’t even know they owned, so when Beau hears an amused “Did you see this?” from the living room, she doesn’t give it that much of a thought.
She finishes pouring some oat milk in her iced coffee, and grabs Jester’s favorite mug to fill it up as well.
When she emerges in the living room, ignoring the sight of the few boxes still in the corner and the fact that the place looks empty without a couch, she finds Jester curled up in the corner, next to the router box, with her phone in one hand and the piece of paper with Beau’s Wi-Fi password in the other.
Beau places Jester’s mug on the floor next to her best friend’s feet, and Jester giggles again.
“Did you look at your neighbors’ Wi-Fi?”
Beau frowns, taking a sip of her coffee.
“What do you mean?”
Jester hands her her phone.
Albeit confused as all hells, Beau picks it up and twists it around to look at the screen, where the list of the neighbouring Wi-Fi is open in front of her.
She skims through it very quickly, smirking at the dumb ones like Taika Wififi or Winternet Is Coming , before she finally notices what Jester’s been talking about.
It’s right underneath the Winona Router Wi-Fi coming from Jester’s apartment, and above the Bilbo Laggings coming from Caleb’s, and it reads…
“‘Four-o-six, your music sucks ?!’” Beau growls, immediately ready to go knock at every door in the building to find out who the fuck is already trying to pick a fight with her after not even a week of her moving in.
“What the fuck?”
Jester seems to find the whole ordeal absolutely hilarious, because she snatches her phone back from Beau’s hand and goes back to her business, laughing through it all.
“I thought you said the neighbours were cool, here.” Beau plops down on the floor, grabbing her laptop from where it’s sitting, next to the router.
“They are.” Jester shrugs. “But I also haven’t met all of them, you know?”
Beau checks the Wi-Fi list from her laptop as well and, sure enough, 406 your music sucks is still right there, staring mockingly back at her.
Beau has rented the apartment at the top floor, following Jester’s suggestion. Caleb lives right next to her, on the left, whereas Fjord and Jester have their own unit nestled on the corner side of the building, on Beau’s right.
Considering there is no one above them and that Beau’s music is actually not that loud, the only option left is the unit below hers.
“I should go talk to them.” she mutters.
Jester shakes her head, putting her phone down and reaching for Beau’s laptop.
“No. You should…” she trails off, taking hold of the computer and starting to tap away at it.
She giggles to herself as she does, and Beau is thankful for her best friend.
Gods know she’s tired of fighting people.
It’s why she moved here in the first place, exhausted from having to deal with her parents.
As it is, her dad doesn’t know where she lives, and if Beau wants to keep living under the radar, striking fights with her neighbours on her first week is probably not the best idea.
So, she trusts Jester.
And by the end of the night, her Lord Voldemodem Wi-Fi has been changed to a very eloquent You suck .
Yasha comes home from her pizza delivery gig late at night to find Molly on the couch with his laptop, a half lit joint hanging from his lips and a grin on his face.
Yasha is immediately suspicious.
“What are you doing?”
She kicks her boots off and snuggles on the couch next to her best friend, taking a peak at the screen.
The Wi-Fi settings are open, and Molly turns to look at her.
“Remember when I changed our Wi-Fi name to tell our neighbour about their music?” he asks, and Yasha grimaces.
She does remember.
“I do, and I wasn’t entirely happy about it.” she mutters. Especially because she actually quite enjoyed the music coming from the apartment above theirs.
“Well, either way…” Molly waves a hand in the air, then clicks on the Wi-Fi list in the bottom right corner of the screen. When the list pops up, he points at one of the names.
You suck .
Yasha instinctively smiles. She already likes whoever lives upstairs.
Molly starts tapping at his keyboard, and Yasha snatches the laptop away from him.
She ignores his complaints, and erases the beginning of what looks like a I will fight you from the Wi-Fi new name, typing instead a simple Sorry about my roommate .
Molly pouts and kicks his feet until Yasha puts on an old episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race and Molly forgets all about the Wi-Fi ordeal.
Yasha stretches out on the couch and forgets about it as well.
A week later, Yasha keeps the door open for two of her neighbours who are dragging a really heavy looking couch through the front entrance and to the elevator.
She recognizes one of them as a neighbour that has lived there for the past year, but she doesn’t think she knows her friend.
Said friend, dark skin and piercing blue eyes, winks at Yasha as the doors of the elevator close, and Yasha stands gaping at the empty corridor for a solid half minute.
She shakes her head and takes the stairs, pushing through the door of her apartment and nearly collapsing on the couch.
Molly is not home, but his laptop is still sitting on the couch, and Yasha suddenly remembers the Wi-Fi war her roommate has started with an unknown neighbour.
She decides to check and, sure enough, the list has changed again.
They can suck a dick .
Oh, Yasha really likes their new upstairs neighbour.
Beau stares at her screen with a grin.
He’d prob like it is her mysterious neighbour’s new Wi-Fi name.
Beau hasn’t ventured downstairs, especially not after receiving what was essentially an apology from one of the two tenants of the unit below hers.
She has made it a point to keep the volume of her music at the same level, not loud enough to be considered rude, but sufficient enough for the apartment below to hear it.
She’s also made sure to keep the music on only during the day, and never throughout the evenings.
She is an asshole, but not that big of one.
Jester has popped by a couple times in the past few weeks, visits that have increased in duration and enthusiasm ever since they managed to drag the new couch inside the apartment, and she is living for the interaction between Beau and the unknown neighbour.
“Shouldn’t you go introduce yourself?” She asks her at least twice a week.
Beau shrugs and doesn’t respond.
Instead, she opens the Wi-Fi settings once more and types: mlm/wlw Hostility .
Beau doesn’t exactly fall in love at first sight, or at second sight for all that matters, but her neighbours are all stupidly hot.
She meets Reani as they lock both their bikes in the storage room. They make small talk, introducing themselves, and by the time the night is over, Beau is already inside Reani’s apartment and under her sheets.
Allura, the woman who lives on the first floor of the building, is only safe from Beau’s flirtations because of her wife, Kima, who side-eyes Beauregard every time she sees her.
Again, Beau might be an asshole, but she doesn’t go for women who are already taken.
But the absolute unit of a girl Beau keeps seeing here and there throughout the building is quite possibly what starts to test Beau’s theories about love at first sight.
The first time she held the door for her when she and Jester carried the couch inside.
The second time Beau caught sight of her as she revved her motorcycle inside the garage, slipping a helmet over a cascade of long, braided white hair.
Beau is dragging her groceries through the elevator doors when she sees her for the third time, walking through the lobby of the building in stupidly tight ripped jeans and a black tank top.
She barely has the time to raise a hand and wave, and the doors seal shut.
The woman is smoking , and Beau is way too gay for this.
However, the thought of her hot neighbour is quickly pushed aside, because when Beau finishes to put her groceries away and checks her computer, a new Wi-Fi name has appeared.
“‘ I like girls, too ’?!”
Yasha slaps Molly on the back of his head.
Molly keeps cackling like a maniac, his laptop clutched against his chest.
“What?” he asks, innocently batting his eyelashes up at her. “It’s true, darling.”
Yasha huffs and puffs, and half considers changing the Wi-Fi name before her neighbour can see it.
But as she stares at the settings open on the screen of her phone, her fingers fail to move.
She swallows and closes her eyes.
Molly always tells her she should put herself out there, get back on the saddle and find love again.
Maybe this is not exactly like going to the club.
Maybe coming out to her upstairs queer neighbour through Wi-Fi names is not exactly what Molly has meant.
After Zuala, she never even thought she would try to find someone again.
So maybe this isn’t much, but it’s something .
She doesn’t know what to respond to her queer, woman-loving-women downstairs neighbour, and she panics.
She stares at her choice for way too long, then slams her laptop shut.
She has no idea how to behave. She wouldn’t know how to handle this if she had a full text worth of things to say, and she knows even less than that considering she’s been communicating through Wi-Fi names.
She considers asking Molly for advice, but he also got her into this situation in the first place.
She chews on her lower lip, fingers skimming over the keys of Molly’s laptop.
The cursor blinks lazily in front of her.
It’s only after a full weekend of thinking that she decides to ask Molly.
“Go with what you know.” he says without looking up from his book.
So Yasha does.
Beau doesn’t really know how she feels about this stranger.
This is a person - a girl, if the signals sent are correct - who is asking her about her favorite flower through Wi-Fi name changing.
It’s also a person who is communicating with her exclusively through Wi-Fi name changing.
“You are doing the same.” Fjord points out when Beau talks about it at dinner, that Saturday.
Beau nods to herself.
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”
She types Not sure in the Wi-Fi name selection, and two days later she comes home from training to find a red rose taped to her door.
With her heart in her throat, Beau changes her Wi-Fi to Nobody ever got me flowers before and not even one hour later Jester comes pounding at her door, screaming:
“SHE GOT YOU FLOWERS?!”
Molly raises an eyebrow, as the stupidly loud scream from their upstairs neighbour travels swiftly through the floor.
Yasha busies herself with the key, desperately trying to find the right one to go and hide in her room.
“So…” Molly begins, right as Yasha manages to all but kick the door open and fling herself inside.
“Not talking about this.” she clarifies, throwing the keys on the entrance table and making a bee line for her room.
“You will have to, eventually!” Molly yells from where he’s standing, still trying to take off his shoes without pulling the laces.
They should have
Every Friday for the following two months, Beau comes home to find a different flower taped to her door, and every Friday she carefully removes the tape, holds the flower in front of her nose and inhales.
Some of them smell really nice, whereas others don’t have a scent at all.
Beau doesn’t really care.
Every Friday for the following two months she gets to have a glimpse of what it would be like to feel wanted, cared for and admired, and even though her downstairs neighbour might be doing it out of friendship, Beau can dream.
She likes the feeling.
She is usually the one chasing after girls, with much less subtle ways as well, and she is not used to being the one being doted upon.
It’s unbalancing, in a way. In a good way.
Even then, she makes no move to try and find out who her neighbour is, and the mysterious girl doesn’t either.
Beau takes it as a clear sign that it shouldn’t happen.
Not yet, at least.
Maybe Wi-Fi Girl -as Jester has started calling her- is shy.
Maybe she’s not ready, like Fjord has suggested.
Or maybe she’s simply not that interested.
Beau doesn’t know.
But every day she checks the Wi-Fi list and every day there’s a new message, to which she responds, happily and eagerly.
Moving to this building turned out to be the best choice Beau could’ve ever made.
On one side she feels emotionally connected to this new girl, on the other there is the physical attraction she experiences for Hot Motorcycle Girl who lives in the same building.
Beau has had fantasies about Wi-Fi Girl and Hot Motorcycle Girl being the same person, but she doesn’t think life can be that generous. Not with her, at least.
Especially because the conversation with Wi-Fi Girl seems to flow with ease, whereas she can’t even manage to string together more than a two-word sentence every time she sees Hot Motorcycle Girl.
Beau waves awkwardly at the latter as she passes her on the way to the shared laundry room and sighs.
She needs shorter nicknames for these crushes of hers.
You like sports?
I do fencing, u?
I do MMA
We should spar one day
I’d love that
Yasha is not sure of what exactly is happening, and she doesn’t like to stop and think too much about it either.
Mollymauk tries to talk to her about it and she dreads the conversation so much that she starts avoiding her own roommate and best friend, until Molly promises through the closed door of her room that he won’t broach the subject anymore.
It’s been way too long since the last time she’s let anyone get closer to her, and this stranger living above her own apartment sometimes feels like the person who knows her most in the world.
Through their Wi-Fi names, they manage to start talking about everything. Hobbies, favorite movies, favorite shows, favorite music.
Yasha always tries to listen to her neighbour’s suggestions of the latter, something that makes Molly roll his eyes to the very back of his head, but Yasha likes it.
It’s not a specific genre of music, more like a mix and match of ballads, old rock, classical and Top 40s.
Whoever her neighbour is, she doesn’t seem to mind niche singers and musicians, as long as the song speaks to her in some way.
Yasha is tremendously intrigued by this woman. She is attracted to her, if that is even possible.
She’s never met her, after all.
Not that it would make any difference, really.
Yasha has to keep herself from staring every time she meets the blue eyes of another one of her neighbours, a stupidly attractive girl who doesn’t seem to own anything other than crop tops.
With abs like those, Yasha doubts she would wear anything different.
It is quite distracting, however, and it proves Yasha’s point.
Whether she knows the person’s face or not, Yasha could not bring herself to string a sentence together to save her life.
All she can do is stare, and wish, and hope.
One Tuesday, two weeks into her third month of chatting with her upstairs neighbour, Yasha comes back early from work and finds a small man with dark hair and a mean looking unibrow standing in front of her apartment building’s door.
Yasha watches from the sidewalk as he aggressively pushes the buzzer once, twice, three times.
“Beauregard Lionett.” he growls. “I know you’re in there. Open this door, you insolent girl.”
Yasha doesn’t know who this man is, nor what his relationship with this Beauregard person is, but she instinctively takes a dislike to him.
The intercom crackles, and a gravelly, low, angry voice responds.
“Fuck you, Dad. Get lost.”
The man -this girl’s dad- keeps pressing the buzzer, muttering some words that Yasha doesn’t hear or doesn’t understand, and that’s when she decides to step up to the door.
She takes her keys out and sticks them into the lock, immediately catching the man’s attention.
Before he can even open his mouth, his body language making it very clear to Yasha that he wants to push his way inside the building, Yasha shoots him a glare.
He is as tall as her collarbone, and she has no patience for men who cannot take no for an answer.
She unlocks the door and stares down at him.
“You should leave, before I call the police.” she says calmly, sweetly. “You don’t want to hang out around here.”
She puts her palm on the door, extending her bare arm where a mix of both scars and tattoos are quite evident on her pale skin.
“If you know what I mean.”
The man doesn’t have to think twice about it.
He staggers backwards and nearly flies down the stairs, running to find refuge in his Tesla, which is parked right next to the sidewalk.
Yasha shakes her head and enters the building.
It’s just as she’s shrugging her bag on the couch next to where Mollymauk is napping that she hears it.
It’s a mix of clanging noises and grunts, and Yasha frowns.
She looks at her best friends, happily asleep and unperturbed, then towards their living room window, where the sounds seem to be coming from.
She moves and forces the old window open, sticking her head out to check left, right, and then below her.
When nothing catches her attention, she turns her gaze upwards, just in time for her to catch sight of a pair of blue Converse disappearing on top of the roof.
Looking up, Yasha notices that the window of the apartment above her own is also open.
She bites her lower lip. The fire escape is there, but as per contract, no one is supposed to climb to the roof without specific permission. They’re not even supposed to step foot on the fire escape itself unless it’s an emergency.
The way Yasha sees it, this is an emergency.
If her upstairs neighbour is climbing the roof, possibly hurting herself in the process, something must be going on, and Yasha has an inkling of suspicion that the man aggressively trying to stab the buzzer downstairs has something to do with it.
Yasha throws a glance back at Molly, then slowly but carefully climbs the tight opening through her window and hoists herself up onto the fire escape.
She carefully climbs her way up, making sure to grab onto the ladder adjacent to the outer wall in case the fire escape decides to give up on her, and finally makes it to the roof.
The first thing she notices is how dirty and empty it is.
The musicals Molly watches always made her think roofs were somewhat romantic, with a beautiful skyline ready for her to witness and admire.
But this roof is... Well.
A plain looking, pigeon poop covered, dusty little roof.
Yasha cleans her palms on her jeans, looking around for any sign of the other human being in this forgotten place.
Beau angrily wipes her cheeks with the sleeve of her hoodie, trying to get a grip on her racing heart and the feeling of dread and anxiety that her father manages to instil in her.
She wraps her arms around her knees, dragging them closer to her chest, when an intake of breath that is not coming from her makes her jump to her feet.
She instinctively raises her hands, ready to throw a punch if she has to; her brain is whirring at the various possibilities and chances of her father having climbed all the way to the roof.
But when her eyes clear and she focuses on the person in front of her, it’s not the small man that she’s grown to hate that stares back, but Hot Motorcycle Girl.
“Uh. Oh. It’s you.” it’s all that she manages to say.
She feels stupid. It’s possibly the first and only thing she’s ever said to her, and she’s done it by almost levelling her face with a punch.
The other woman raises her hands, looking incredibly apologetic.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I just saw you… Climb up the fire escape and I got worried.”
Beau shakes her head, pressing a hand on her chest to feel her heart. She didn’t stop to consider what people might have thought seeing a girl running up to a roof in tears.
She slowly sits back down, back pressed against the air conditioning unit.
“It’s alright. I just thought you were… Someone else.”
The woman shuffles her weight from one leg to the other.
Beau’s head shoots up, and the other woman lowers hers, hooking a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Sorry. I just… I saw him downstairs.” she says, awkwardly. “He tried to get into the building when I came in.”
Beau feels a new surge of nausea and rage towards her own father, and rubs her palms against her eyes.
“I’m so sorry, man.” she exhales. “The guy’s an idiot. I hope he didn’t give you too much trouble.”
The woman coughs, and when Beau looks up, there is an even guiltier expression on her face.
“I might have scared him off a little.” she admits, like she isn’t proud of what she’s done.
Beau barks out a laugh, and if the other woman notices the tears behind it, she doesn’t mention it.
“Fuck, I like you even more, now.” Beau says, and immediately grimaces.
Well, that’s one way to do it.
She closes her eyes, cursing herself to the moon and back, before she has the courage to look up at her neighbour.
“Sorry, uh. I mean… I’ve seen you around a lot.” she amends, or tries to. “You are… You’re really hot, is all.”
The woman chuckles, and there it is again: a soft blush, spreading over the pale skin of her cheeks and all the way to the tip of her ears.
Beau would’ve never imagined that Hot Motorcycle Girl could be so… Gentle spirited.
“You as well.” she says without looking at Beau. She clears her voice. “I’ve… I have also seen you a lot.”
Beau blinks a couple times, trying to wrack her brain to think of something smart to say.
Something -anything- to segue that declaration.
Unusually enough, she can’t come up with anything other than: “You can sit, if you want to.”
She gestures at the filthy ground next to her and flinches when she notices some dried bird poop a few feet from where she’s nestled, but Hot Motorcycle Girl doesn’t seem to care as she lowers herself to a sitting position.
“Beau.” Beau says, extending her hand.
The other woman shakes it with a small smile.
What a curious, beautiful name.
“Nice to, er, well, meet you, Yasha.” Beau chuckles, draping her arms over her knees and then leaning with her head on them, tilted so that she can still look at her neighbour.
After months of living there, at least she now knows her name.
Two, nearly three months, and all it took was her dad getting her to freak out and climb to the damn roof to finally learn her crush’s name.
One of them, at least.
Maybe she’ll go down one floor and knock at Wi-Fi Girl’s door as well, later.
Get both names in one day.
She’s gone way too long without knowing it.
“It’s crazy.” she murmurs. “I’ve been living in this place for three months and it’s the first time we’ve managed to have a conversation.”
Yasha visibly tenses.
Beau frowns, straightening herself up, trying to figure out what part of what she said caused Yasha to have that reaction.
“Yeah. No, yeah, you’re right.” Yasha says, her gaze now obstinately fixed on the horizon.
And Beau has been on the roof plenty of times.
The view is not that great.
An inkling of suspicion starts to swirl in her stomach.
“So, uhm…” she tries to sound as casual as she possibly can. “What floor do you live on?”
Yasha clears her voice, looking almost relieved by the change of topic.
Beau nods and hums. Oh gods...
“How’s your roommate?” she asks, nonchalantly.
Yasha shrugs and answers: “Oh, you know. The usual idiot.” before stopping and blinking a few times, looking at Beau with the wide eyes of someone who knows they’ve just been played.
“It’s you.” Beau whispers for the second time in one night.
Only now it’s much more charged, with a lot more emotion hidden behind a few selected words.
“You’re her .”
Yasha chews nervously on her lower lip, hands closed into fists as they grab onto her own knees. She nods.
“How… How long have you known?”
Beau’s brain is buzzing.
She remembers of a time when she’d hoped that Hot Motorcycle Girl and Wi-Fi Girl could be the same person, but she would’ve never imagined that the universe could be so good, so nice. Not for her, at least.
“I had my suspicions.” Yasha admits. “I didn’t want to hope… But then I heard you climb to the roof from my living room, and when I saw you here…”
Beau can’t exactly speak.
Her brain is sort of stumped on the ‘I didn’t want to hope.’ part of the sentence, refusing to move away from that.
Yasha was hoping the same thing that Beau was hoping?
“This shit only happens in movies, man…” she manages to say, still shocked by the entire conversation and what it actually entails.
Yasha chuckles, a bit nervously.
“Yeah. I know.”
They stare at each other, and Beau feels just as pleasantly surprised, just as nervous as Yasha looks right now.
“I know it’s going to sound crazy, because we technically just met…”
Yasha licks her lips, and only then Beau notices how much closer they’ve inched towards one another.
“Can I kiss you?” Beau whispers, and Yasha’s eyelids flutter shut.
“Please.” she murmurs back, right before they both move to close that distance and press their lips together.
Yasha’s hands immediately find a hold onto Beau’s waist, dragging her closer still, whereas Beau’s fingers thread through Yasha’s incredibly long, incredibly soft hair.
They press against one another, and three months of pining, wanting and hoping come crashing down on Beau -and apparently on Yasha- as they desperately try to cling to each other and make up for lost time.
They go for an official date the evening after, and both Jester and Mollymauk have to be held back from throwing an actual party to celebrate.
They don’t stop using the Wi-Fi name setting, but once they get each other’s phone numbers and social media, they end up changing it only when they want to leave a cute message for the other to find.
It’s sickeningly adorable, as Fjord puts it, and Beau simply shrugs and hides her face in Yasha’s neck.
A year into their relationship, Beau changes her own Wi-Fi to Move in with me? And Yasha shows up at her door with a smile and a kiss.
They settle things with the landlord, and decide to take over Beau’s apartment. It’s one of the few renovated ones and it is, for all intents and purposes, closer to the roof.
They don’t stop climbing the fire escape, especially on those nights where they feel like the weight of the world is too much to bear.
They do stop changing the Wi-Fi name, however, settling onto the old but gold: Drop it like it’s HotSpot.
Beau gets to know everything about Yasha, and vice versa.
They love and they fight and they put effort into their relationship to make it work.
Sometimes it’s hard, but for the most part it turns out to be incredibly easy.
Just like it was easy to find comfort in their Wi-Fi chats.
They spend two more years in that apartment, growing stronger and happier with their friends around them.
Beau never pushes for more, waiting for Yasha to give her a sign, knowing full well of her past with her ex-wife, Zuala.
She knows Yasha loves her and she trusts her when Yasha tells her she is her everything.
Except one day, she starts getting weird looks.
Not from strangers, but almost.
People in her building start to look at her in a way they never did before.
Her and Yasha had turned into a bit of a joke for the other tenants when they were not yet dating. Beau knows that. She knows that everyone had been rooting for them to date, or at least talk in person, at the time.
But now she holds the door open for Kima and Allura and she catches them giggling as they look at her.
She stops the elevator from closing on Essek’s face and she watches as he tries his very best not to return her gaze.
Even her friends are acting weird.
Jester is incredibly jumpy. Molly is more of an asshole than ever and she is pretty sure Fjord and Caleb are avoiding her.
Beau is not stupid, but she also has no fucking clue what is going on.
After she runs through all possible scenarios, sitting in bed with Yasha nearly asleep next to her, she puts down her book and looks down at her phone on the nightstand.
She picks it up and opens the settings, going to check something she hasn’t checked in two years. Not since moving in with Yasha.
As soon as her eyes focus on their shared Wi-Fi name, her heart stops in her chest.
Yasha presses her lips together and barely contains her smile.
She looks at Beau, still grinning like a mad man next to her, her beautiful naked body stretching and twisting in the first lights of the morning sun.
“Are you sure?” she asks her.
Beau nods and drags her down to kiss her again.
“They’re going to kick down the door as soon as they see it.” Yasha chuckles on her lips, and Beau grins.
“I know. I don’t care.”
Yasha laughs, reaching past Beau to grab her own phone.
She taps rapidly on the screen and then hits save.
“Done.” she announces. “Breakfast?”
Beau, unable to stop smiling, nods again.
They don’t even make it to their bedroom door before they hear Jester’s ungodly scream from across their shared wall.
“Here we go…” Beau laughs, turning to press a very naked Yasha against the threshold to kiss her.
Yasha smiles, and holds her close.
She said yes.