Work Text:
Olive watched, baffled, as Kim approached her in a comically exaggerated aggressive stance. The exaggeration is not what baffles her (she recognises the overstated gesture as the same one that Kim used to start a light-hearted spar earlier that month) it's the context and the emotion. They are at work - Olive on shift but between customers, whereas Kim isn't slated till tomorrow - and Kim's face is etched with a cold fury.
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Glass was shattered, tables flipped, various implements of hairdressery scattered to the winds, and at least one chair has been irrevocably stripped of its ability to spin. Not after some grand bout of martial arts prowess, but from a frenzied game of run-around-the-furniture-until-she-gets-tired-or-bored-or-calms-down-oh-no-she-has-more-stamina-than-me-I-guess-I'll-die-then. Olive *likes* karate because its a fun exercise outlet, but she sure as hell not going to get into a fight with someone wielding a pair of scissors - even if they're holding it by the blade!
So now Olive is lying against a wall, exhausted and defeated, as Kim limps up to her. Kim's eyes are still etched with fury, boring a hole into Olive's skull as she leans down to her ear. A whispered "fuck you," is swiftly followed by a long kiss on the cheek, hard enough to leave a bruise, before she storms off.
Olive realises she is well and truly out of a job.