Work Text:
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"Madi, what do you think about this?" Gabriella tilted her notebook page in Madison's direction.
Their quiet Saturday morning at Percolation Park was like many others; Gabriella had brought her laptop and journal to do some writing, Madison had brought her tablet and notebook to review her notes and monitor yesterday's practice. They had set up at a large table tucked into a corner of the café, surrounded by their work materials and remnants of brunch.
With her latest art tour done and dusted, Gabriella had decided to come visit Ontario for a longer stretch. Madison was thrilled—she knew their life goals were very different now, but she had missed seeing her best friend seven days a week.
The next Olympics may be in two years, but national and international competitions didn't stop. Her students were hard at work for the upcoming Skate Canada Challenge and hopefully the Canadian Nationals.
Madison pushed her reading glasses—a new accessory acquired this year—further up her nose and leaned her chin on Gabriella's shoulder. "What's up?"
On the thick paper, she saw a scattershot of small drawings and scrawled phrases. Numbers, ice skates, the sun and the moon, two cats, and two dancing women vied for Madison's attention.
"I'm trying to come up with a tattoo to commemorate us at AOI. I can't settle on an idea…"
"Surprising," Madison ribbed. She dropped a quick kiss on Gabriella's shoulder in apology for the light sarcasm, then looked at the page with new eyes. "Mmm, not this one," she said as she tapped on a text-only section with her pencil. "You're gonna hate looking at a bunch of letters and numbers within the decade." Another thought popped into her head. "What part of the body were you thinking?" the location might influence her opinion, after all.
Gabriella pointed to the inside of her arm just above the bend of her elbow. "I was thinking here, or…" she tapped the back of her foot, which rested on her knee. The heel was currently exposed above the low sock and flat sneaker she wore today. "Along the back here. I want something I can conceal or reveal with my own discretion."
"Nothing on the neck?" Madison watched as the other woman's face screwed up in distaste. She chuckled. "Just checking. Okay, well… I'm split between these." Her pen tapped a simple outline of a sun and moon with SYNCHRONICITY printed underneath in small uppercase letters. The sun was white, a circle with small vertical lines radiating out. The moon was a thick, black crescent, accompanied by two stars in the hollow space. Together, they were the visual representation of opposite features in balance.
Her second choice was on the opposite corner, a rough drawing of two women with their arms spread wide and a leg kicked out. The woman in front was shorter by a hair—undoubtedly Gabriella. She recognized this move from their Art on Ice 2025 set. Alain's photo sat in her camera roll somewhere.
Madison's third favorite design was squeezed into the margins, up against the binding of the page. Two women locked in a spin, one hand in the air while the other curled lovingly around the opposite woman's waist. This was one of their last moves in the set, one that Madison had practiced several times with her heart between her teeth.
The media had latched onto this move in particular—foreheads pressed into each other, arms flung up, legs popped back, knees bent in. The one Getty photo was splashed across countless news articles and social media. It still came up when she searched her name. Not that she was complaining; she thought they looked pretty good in that shot, and she figured this one frame summed up their collaboration effort perfectly. She was more surprised and impressed that the photo was still the top search result, even three years later.
"This one's neat," she said as she picked up her coffee. "What do you think, though? It's going on your body."
Gabriella often texted Madison out of the blue with a potential tattoo idea that never panned out. She was indecisive in the face of such a wealth of choices. Gabriella seemed to like the concept of getting a tattoo more than actually getting one. Her responses to Madison's "you do you" were usually non-committal and vacillatory.
Today's questions seemed different. Gabriella was focused; Madison had a feeling she'd finally see Gabriella get a tattoo by next Saturday.
Gabriella dumped her chin on her hand and chewed on her lip as she looked at the three designs Madison had pointed out. "It feels… incomplete. Hold on." She turned to a fresh page and began to sketch. The rough scratch of her pen nib on paper was music to Madison's ears. She had things to do, but they were set aside for favor of watching her best friend work her magic.
The resulting design was similar to the first and third—two women locked in a tight embrace, but they were no longer dressed in the flowy dresses they had picked for Art on Ice.
From the neck-up, there was nothing. No face, no hair. And yet, Madison knew exactly which woman was which. The one on the right was dressed in a canvas jacket and her boots were shaded. The one on the left had on only a thin turtleneck. The back was exposed as the hem of the top came untucked. Her skates were white as the paper showed though.
Madison raised an eyebrow as their heads were replaced with a moon and a sun. "Why am I the sun?" She was surprised. Between the both of them, Gabriella had the bigger public profile—a fact that had smarted her sides when they were competing, but now was by choice. Gabriella was the one with a fist full of gold medals and first-place trophies at home, and certainly held more international appeal with her unique interpretations and eye-catching face.
Gabriella's pen halted. The owner looked up, taken aback. "You're my sun. To me, you're always the brightest person in the room. I look to you for stability and comfort, and I reflect your light." It was said so matter-of-factually, like she was telling Madison 2+2=4. No trace of a smirk or a teasing glint in her eye.
Madison had to keep her face together as she melted on the inside, lest she broke into tears in the middle of this coffee shop. "No, Gabs, you're the sun. I'm just hanging out in your shadow. You should swap the heads."
Gabriella laughed, her white teeth gleaming past her lips. "I think I'm too stormy and French to be the sun. But, if you feel so strongly…" She moved her hand to the adjacent page and her pen started scratching against paper again. The sketch was similar to the first, but Gabriella had switched the sun and moon. "How's this?"
Madison nodded. "That's better."
This time, she saw a twinkle in the younger woman's eye as she replied. "Good. You can get this version, then. I'll stick with this one." She tapped the original sketch on the left-hand page.
"Well—" Madison paused. "Well, what if I do?"
"Then we'll match!" was Gabriella's easy reply. She leaned back and hid her smirk in her mug of tea. She seemed pleased at her retort. Or maybe she was just jazzed to finally settle on a design for once. She resumed her work on her computer, her notebook splayed open on the table between their seats.
Madison stared at the twin drawings as she nursed her own mug. Tattoos weren't really on her radar these days; she juggled a busy life with Adrián, the kids, coaching, and her personal hobbies. Her only tattoo had been acquired late 2022 after the Beijing Olympics. Somehow, the indomitable Madison Chock had cajoled her into getting a small tattoo on her wrist. The sensation of the tiny needle was unlike anything else. Had the technology improved in the last six years? Madison rubbed the edge of her wrist, where the small star peeked out from behind her jacket cuff.
Usually, she would say no, because she was never sure if Gabriella would see a tattoo through. But this—Gabriella had zeroed in on a concept that meant the world to her. Madison knew how much she treasured the debut as a pair. She felt the same. "You know what? Fuck it. Let's get this tattoo."
Gabriella perked up. "You'll get it with me? Oh, I was hoping you would say that!" She practically jumped into Madison's lap to give her a hug. "Thank you, thank you!" When she pulled back from the embrace, her brilliant grin almost split her face in half. "I've been talking to my artist friend nearby—Molly said she had an open slot later today."
"It's a date," Madison said as she swiped a kiss across Gabriella's cheek.
—
Madison looked down at her prickly arm. On their way to the tattoo parlor, with the help of Molly, they had solidified the perfect spot for their matching tattoos. The three of them had debated whether to put the tattoo at the very top of the arm, right under the shoulder joint, so that it could be hidden by most conventional short sleeves.
"Why, are you ashamed of our love?" Madison had quipped.
In response, Gabriella had ducked her head and rolled her eyes. "Focus on the road," she had said, with a light cuff on Madison's shoulder. "We'll keep it in the original spot," she told Molly.
Madison's bark of laugher had almost made her swerve out of the lane.
The pain wasn't as bad as she thought it was going to be. According to Penny, the artist in charge of her arm, the upper arm had more fat and skin in between needle and bone, which helped cushion things. Mind you, it was still a weird sensation and not nice—she could still feel and hear the buzz travel up her skull.
Molly looked over. "How're you holding up?" The lower half of her face was obscured by a black mask and she had safety glasses perched on her nose, but her voice was kind, calming.
Madison gave her a jerky nod, careful to keep her arm still. "I'll survive," she muttered through gritted teeth.
"How's it going over there, Gabi?" Penny asked. She was dressed in the same way, a mask and safety glasses.
"I'm good," Gabriella chirped. Madison was envious of her easygoing demeanor. Even though this was her first tattoo ever, the younger woman was taking it a lot better.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gabriella reach over with her non-tattoo arm across the small gap between their chairs. Madison threaded her fingers between Gabriella's and relaxed into the cushions at the contact.
Unbeknownst to Madison and Gabriella, Molly and Penny shared an amused glance before they resumed their work.
"You're doing great so far. We're just about done," said Penny in her Irish lilt.
"Any idea how much longer?" Gabriella asked for the both of them.
Molly hummed as she pulled her gun back. "Half an hour, give or take five minutes. What about you, Pen?"
"About the same, yeah."
The thirty minutes passed in a blur, thank goodness. Madison was out of the chair and upright before she felt the pain set in. There was very little bleeding apparently, and neither she nor Gabriella had passed out.
Molly snapped a few photos, then Penny gave them the hygiene spiel and handed them extra packs of breathable bandages and healing ointment. Madison couldn't wait to see the tattoo completely healed. With well-wishes and an offer for touch-ups in the coming weeks, they exited the shop.
"Any regrets?" Madison asked as they walked back to her car. Her hand naturally wove itself with Gabriella's once more.
Gabriella seemed to almost float off the ground as they got to the curb. Her responding smile was loopy, satisfied, and adorable. "None."
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