fearscoded

[fearscoded]

MELISSA BARRERA as VANESSA MORALES in IN THE HEIGHTS (2021)

[fearscoded]

KATE BISHOP !​

“… My face looks fine,” Kate huffed, sharp and far too aggressive for the situation when– as far as her admittedly all-over-the-place powers of perception were concerned– Yelena was being genuinely kind. It wasn’t helping that it made Kate have to stop and realize that if she paused and took away the fact that Yelena was an assassin– having a really hot older woman sitting in her apartment and offering to take care of her felt a hell of a lot like it had just come out of a daydream she couldn’t really remember having but definitely wasn’t hating. Oh my god, dude, stop thinking about how hot she is. Kate nearly groaned outright at her own wildly shifting train of thought– by every measure imaginable she should have been paying more attention with Yelena around; she’d been on the receiving end of the woman’s mission-based attentions already and frankly, that was too many times. Yelena fought like a wild animal in the most ferocious way Kate could imagine– years of training evident every time she so much as took a step in any direction.

Kate wondered, absently, whether she’d ever get to that point— whether she could ever really be Hawkeye even if she felt reasonably confident Clint really had passed the mantle on to her and those days in the City hadn’t been a frantic hallucination on her part. “It’s not like I’ve been doing this whole…” the brunette trailed off, waving a hand in a nonsense gesture as she frowned. “Vigilante superhero schtick for years or something. I’ve had like, a few weeks– so y’know– not a whole lot of practice time happening on my end.” She sniffed, feigning nonchalance, “He got a lucky hit.”

Yelena’s question gave her pause if only because she had no way of answering that wouldn’t feel… lesser in the face of what little she knew of Yelena’s past already. She’d never had siblings to lose but she’d lost her father by no fault of her own and her mother by every fault of her own and neither of those things settled very well in the time she’d spent alone since all things Bishop that weren’t hers truly– had disappeared in a puff of smoke, y’know, more or less. Her eyes drifted to the kitchen table and Kate swallowed, hard, trying not to think about her mother and failing in every respect, “It sure feels like I do,” She mumbled, sniffing again– this time for an entirely different reason. She forced her melancholy away in favor of feigned bravado as she grinned at Yelena– suggestion in her expression and the bold quirk of her non-injured eyebrow, “Depends on the company, babe.” The grin fell away quickly in favor of a derisive snort and the easy roll of her eyes as she shrugged, “I tried that. It didn’t really take.”

There were days that she missed being under the control of another; at least mentally so. She didn’t have to consider feelings, nor did she have to drown in emotions. She’d been solely objective driven without question. It was the blind loyalty that was the worst part of it all; she couldn’t excuse the terrible things she’d done, but she could make up for them. Well, she could try to. It was her goal to free every Black Widow from the mental hold that Dreykov had put them under. She would have done more had she not been snapped from existence in a fellow Widow’s bathroom. What felt like seconds had been five years. Within that time, everything had changed. Natasha was gone and she’d blamed Clint Barton for it. Of course, it was another idea planted in her mind, but she couldn’t blame anyone but herself for her lack of an impulse control. She was trained to kill, maybe mind control wasn’t necessary after all.

A dry sound of bitter laughter fell from the Russian’s mouth as her head dropped and her lungs filled with air. Everyone got lucky sometimes, but all it took was one moment for everything to change. “Do you want to be an Avenger?” Was that her purpose behind fighting off the city’s crime in hopes of getting some kind of invite to the elite club? She’d heard the stories and truth was, she could never get tired of hearing how her sister saved the world. “Natasha used to do this pose,” she hummed, fingers working nimbly to close up the cut that she’d cleaned. “I tried it once. It was disgusting,” she exhaled, a small laugh following. “Do you have a superhero pose, Kate?” 

With three small butterfly closures now in place, Yelena discarded of the wrappers atop the woman’s table and stepped back. "You should really consider trying it again.” Dropping terrible news wasn’t the hard part, not at all. What was difficult was realizing the choice that she was being forced to make. If she failed again, someone else would come for Kate and probably her too. The only difference being that she had the tools and training to evade anyone. “You could be whatever you want to be. You could move from here. I’ve heard the Ohio is nice.” Boring, even.

[fearscoded]

KATE BISHOP !​

“Not at all,” Kate replied flatly, the sharp bite of sarcasm in her voice poorly disguised in the split second she spent contemplating whether she wanted to turn her back on the Russian woman outright so she could finish cleaning this stupid cut courtesy of the even stupider Tracksuit with the stupidest face she’d ever— alright, Kate, focus. “I’m super used to having a literal assassin hanging out in my kitchen, isn’t everyone?” Blue eyes flickered towards Yelena even as Kate tried to tell her stupid brain to focus on something other than the fact that being around Yelena was still a strange experience for a multitude of reasons– not the least of which was the fact that no one should have any right to look that fucking good just in general. It was unfair! Cruel, even– to be so hot and equally capable of literally murdering her on the spot which was, Kate had to admit, sort of doing it for her if she wanted to stop and think about it which she did not.

She crossed her arms over her chest with a soft huff, finally leaning back against the edge of her kitchen counter as she watched Yelena and tried to ignore the twinge of protest her ribs gave every time she so much as shifted. God, if she’d known the guy could hit her like a freight train she’d have asked for more padding in the suit but that was neither here nor there and Yelena was asking a suspicious amount of questions for how little they knew anything about each other. Kate’s eyes narrowed– her thoughts whirring as she tried to grasp onto at least one of the questions the Russian had asked, “You want me to answer all that in order or what? I feel like I missed a test I didn’t study for.” It wasn’t at all what she’d wanted to say but Kate was tired and beat down and as hot as Yelena was she could only be so on edge for so long before she felt completely over it. Her face softened at the offer of help and Kate found herself moving even as she debated telling Yelena to just go away as gently as she could manage. “Sure. Fine. Help would be– yeah– that would be cool,” the archer agreed gruffly, slipping into the chair beside Yelena and slouching almost immediately– her shoulders still tense even as she all but sprawled out in the chair. 

“I can totally do this stuff, for the record,” Kate grunted petulantly after a moment, the sharp rise of annoyance that flooded through her at the thought of being underestimated still firmly in place in spite of the fact that she was pretty much literally licking her wounds right that second. “I can.”

"You’re still funny, Kate Bishop.” How many times could she say the woman’s name before getting tired of hearing it aloud? Truth was, she wasn’t sure. As she stood in the apartment of her mark, it was hard to imagine why anyone would want her gone. She was good, but was she really that much of a threat to the darker dealings of the city? Normally, the blonde didn’t question who the face in the file was. She read enough to get the job done and didn’t look back. It was different than what she’d done before; she was in control of her actions and didn’t have to listen to anyone if she didn’t want to. It made her dangerous, but with all that self-control came emotions that she hadn’t been ready to deal with. Emotions that she struggled to understand, despite pushing them down and keeping them buried.

Perhaps they wanted her gone because of the sheer amount of annoyance she could trigger in a moment’s time. “By the look of your face, you are still holding your punches.” For someone who went looking for trouble, the raven haired archer needed to do better. No, it wasn’t any of her business. If Kate Bishop wanted to get herself killed with whatever chaos she was throwing herself into, then it wasn’t Yelena’s business. If anything, it made her job easier. “You answer, I clean. That is fair, no?”

She watched as Kate settled into the chair, leaving the blonde to move closer with intent. It was difficult to ignore the void in her chest. She’d found her sister and her clarity, only lose Natasha and five years of her life. “Do you know what it’s like to lose everything?” Nimble fingers readied another Qtip with ease before she cleaned closer, head tilting to the side in an attempt to focus. For an assassin, she was gentle with her touch, her light hues focused on the cut instead of darker eyes that were surely looking her way. “Do you always end up looking like this after a night out on the town?” The blonde could assume this wasn’t the first time she’d taken a hit since they’d parted ways and she doubted it’d be the last. “There is real danger out there, Kate Bishop.” Pulling back, the woman’s lungs filled with air and she reached for a small butterfly closure. “Why can’t you just be boring?” Go to school, do whatever it is that normal people do.

[fearscoded]

KATE BISHOP !

For a woman with as much drive ( at least, that’s what Kate thought of it as– others liked to say she had too much energy or that she was simply too much in general ) as she was known to have, moments of inactivity were fairly rare for Kate. She felt a constant urge to move– a need to be doing something at all times whether that was actively practicing archery on the roof of her apartment building or playing fetch with Lucky or binge watching House Hunters reruns until her eyes burned ( she’d been doing the latter more than she cared to admit but come on, what else were you supposed to do when you dropped out of college after you put your mom in prison? ) She’d even tried casual dating– which had gone well exactly three times in that it’d led to less than a handful of quickies that had ultimately done nothing for her depression or her sanity. 

By now she was contemplating really making good on her plan to clean up New York’s ongoing crime problem but the twinge of her still healing cracked ribs courtesy of the scrap with Kingpin had her questioning that the longer she stared at the map she’d tacked up on one wall that was depressingly unmarked. Depressing, to put it lightly, was pretty much Kate’s favorite word to use to describe the sheer maelstrom of bullshit her life had turned into but she still didn’t think that had prepared her for the sound of an annoyingly familiar, husky Russian voice behind her or the fact that Yelena startled her so deeply she jabbed herself in the eye with a Q-Tip trying to clean a cut above her eyebrow. “Fu– ricking Christ, dude!” Kate exclaimed, whirling to face the assassin with a look on her face somewhere between a pout and an outright glare. “No one else is breaking into my apartment enough for me to need ‘em, y’know? I think you’re cornering that market. Can you please learn to use the front door?”

An odd sense of misplaced anger bloomed in the depths of her chest as emerald eyes focused in on the cut above the woman’s eyebrow. If she hadn’t of known that Kate Bishop was out attempting to play hero, then she would have wondered if someone else had been sent in for the job. Still, she couldn’t be confident enough to believe that they weren’t. After failing to commit to her plan with Barton, could anyone believe she’d be capable of taking out the woman before her? Despite the buzzing in her head, Yelena stood as tall as her frame would allow. She was confident in her training, but for once, she had no idea as to what she was doing next. According to the clock, she had less than a week to eliminate the woman before her. “Are you surprised to see me again, Kate Bishop?” Had the raven haired woman even thought about her after she’d left? Or had the downfall of her mother been all that played on her mind?

“Kate, no need to be so boring. Do I look like someone that would use the front door?” Easy wasn’t how she liked it, hadn’t the other picked up on that by now? “What happened to your face? Are you still holding your punches?” For someone with the amount of training she had, the blonde was impressed with Kate’s ability to defend herself. “I’m going to guess that Clint Barton isn’t helping you anymore?” No, he was probably somewhere happily tucked away with his family. A family that she hadn’t thought he deserved. “You should consider finding another hobby, Kate Bishop. I’m not sure that this one is for you.” By the looks of it, it wasn’t. “You want to make sure to clean it well. Do you know how to clean it? I could show you,” she offered, a hand directing the woman to take sit. “Take a seat, Kate Bishop.”

[fearscoded]

KATE BISHOP’S APARTMENT — Murder for hire was one thing, but the target itself was another. She could handle corrupt business leaders or shady dealers who caused more damage than the world could ever possibly know, but this target? She couldn’t wrap her head around it. She’d nearly declined the offer before realizing that if she didn’t, someone else would, and that wasn’t a risk that she was willing to take. After losing Natasha, she refused to lose anyone else. Not that she considered Kate Bishop anything close to important. After all, the woman had nearly sabotaged the only thing she’d ever wanted in life; a chance at revenge for the loss of her sister. Even if she’d gotten something more than at the end, Kate Bishop had dared to step between her and the answers she needed.

With everything she needed and a countdown on her back, the woman headed into the city and once again had no problem getting into the apartment of the woman she would have assumed to have better security measures. Then again, not even topnotch systems could keep a Black Widow from getting what they wanted. “You know, Kate Bishop, you should consider getting better locks, no?” She made it too easy. “What? Is this because I didn’t make food this time?” She wasn’t in the business of getting comfortable, but she wasn’t sure what she was doing. For once, there was no plan.

[fearscoded]

rcncgcdes — oz mikkelsen.​​

“You do always hate losin’ so I can’t say I’m surprised,” Oz pointed out quietly, a low laugh rumbling somewhere in the back of his throat as he considered just how competitive Oakley had a tendency to be. It was one of the many things he liked about her and he’d always found it wildly entertaining when that competitive spirit ended up turned on the most innocuous things; in this case: cooking shows. “You’re gonna have to show me this Crime Scene Kitchen thing when I get my head on a little straighter– I think Abs has been watching it? I keep seeing it around, anyway.” He enjoyed watching TV as much as the next person but there wasn’t always time to watch it when he was working and the guys had a tendency to tease the shit out of him when he even offered to cook for them once in a while so he couldn’t quite imagine how they’d react if he tried to watch Crime Scene Kitchen at the firehouse as amusing as the thought was to him the moment he’d had it. His smile fell even as he followed her further into the kitchen and paused to crouch down and give Apollo attention for a few moments– murmuring greetings to the dog as he scratched behind his ears and accepted a few messy kisses somewhere around his chin before he stood up and stared hard at a point somewhere over Oakley’s shoulder.  

He’d been in therapy– sometimes regularly and other times not– since he’d returned from the Middle East; over a decade ago, now and still he had nightmares. Still, he would wake up with a clear thought that he was in the desert– that he was in danger– that he wasn’t simply in his bedroom in an incredibly peaceful place he’d come to call home. It was becoming increasingly apparent to him that he needed more help than he was getting at the moment– that he needed to reach out or at least muster up the courage he needed to tell someone that he wasn’t okay. His little sister had made frequent comments that he was starting to turn into her and it wasn’t something she enjoyed seeing; Oz still wasn’t quite sure what to say about that and for a long moment he shifted on the balls of his feet and considered telling Oakley the one thing he assumed she wouldn’t want to hear. That he was fine. That he was always fine. That he didn’t have a problem in any capacity, with anything at all. 

Instead, he swallowed hard and looked at her in the same moment he reached for the Gatorade and took a long drink to distract himself– ignoring the way his stomach churned hard with anxiety as he tried to collect his thoughts. “Nah, Oak,” Oz said slowly, his face twisted up into an expression of agony unlike anything he usually let anyone see. “I don’t think I’m okay at all.” His voice was low and strained– his throat tight and eyes stinging as he ran a hand over his face and leaned heavily against the kitchen island. “I’ve been havin’– nightmares again. Almost every night now, honestly. It’s not so bad when I’m working ‘cause at least I can… I can ignore them because I have something else to focus on. But I’m off more than I work and there’s only so much overtime I can get, y’know? And my… legs have been hurting while it gets colder and all I can think about is the fucking desert. If I’m drunk then I’m not worried about shit. I’m not worried about anything.” He huffed out a hard breath, choking on his words as he raised a hand to cover his eyes. “I think I need help, Oak.” 

***

“I followed every single clue in that kitchen. I’ve never even heard of the kind of cake they baked and I bake all of the time.” It was how she coped with her feelings after the woman she’d loved had walked out without a word. It was cookies, cakes, pies, pastries, and any other sweet thing she try out from her newest recipe book. It kept her busy and it kept those closest to her happy too. “If she’s watching, then remind me to FaceTime her tomorrow. I need someone to talk to about it. Don’t worry, I’ll make you watch an episode with when you’re not so,” she trailed off and bit down on her bottom. She wasn’t judging by any means, but she knew him well enough to know that alcohol was a dangerous game. It was something they’d touched on in the past, but she’d trusted that if he had any issues currently, he would have told her. That was the kind of friendship they had, right? The kind where honesty was never a question. That’s what she tried to convince herself of as she watched Oz greet the pup that most people assumed was his. She loved seeing how happy Apollo got every single time Oz came over and as annoyed as she pretended to be over the stepdad jokes, it was fitting. “He really missed you.” And so did she, but she swallowed down that confession and gave a hint of a smile instead.

The silence that filled the kitchen left Oakley a little nervous. If that wasn’t enough to make her stomach twist into knots, then hearing him say that things weren’t okay most certainly was. Her brows pinched together and worry lines wrinkled in her forehead. As much as she wanted to reach out and offer a comforting word, she stayed silent and watched closely as he spoke. When it came to her knowledge of his service, she didn’t know a lot. She knew that he’d spent time overseas and that like most soldiers, he’d had a hard time adjusting to how things were back home. She’d heard him speak of the nightmares and just how much of a toll they’d taken on him in the past. As someone keen on research, Oak had done her fair share of googling and had hated how many others suffered from the same issues that he had. He’d given his country everything, only for his country to throw him to the wolves and hope for the best.

With every confession that rolled off his tongue, Oakley found herself inching closer. “Then we get you help,” she shrugged, eyes burning as she blinked away a few tears. Without asking or even giving him time to pull away, the blonde closed the distance between them and curled her arms around his shoulders. She tiptoed upwards to rest her chin on his shoulder. It was the mixed smell of his cologne and the alcohol that kept her focused on the moment. “Maybe you should stay here for a little while,” she offered quietly, not daring to let go. “You shouldn’t have to be alone when you’re feeling like this.” She had no place and giving up a piece of her home if it meant helping him feel safe. “Apollo would love to have his stepdad closer,” she joked weakly beneath her breath. “You aren’t alone, Oz. I’m here. I’m always here.”

[fearscoded]

rcncgcdes — oz mikkelsen.​

“Yes, ma’am,” Oz drawled in return, his ever present smile only widening in Oakley’s presence– it seemed softer now– full of the gentleness that he held in himself as easily as anything but still seemed easiest to access when he was with Oakley. It had, of course, always been that way— she was his best friend, the one person in his life who was as constant and steady a presence as anything else– even when their time together was short because of the circumstances of their respective lives he made it a point to make time for Oakley whenever he possibly could. Devotion, he often that, was somehow too quiet a word for the way he felt about her but that had become something he was only really willing to try and parse through when he was drunk or alone– only one of which happened more regularly than the other these days. “You sure I’m not botherin’ you? I know it’s late. I didn’t–” He paused as he followed Oakley further into her home, a flush blooming in his cheeks as he fought with what exactly he wanted to say– fought with the explanation he wanted to give and the one that would be easiest to give.

“I really was walking home…” He managed after a moment, his hair falling into his eyes as he looked down at the toes of his boots– sheepish and shy in a way he almost never was around Oakley. He’d chalk it up to the mix of honest, intense feelings he had around her lately and especially when he’d been drinking but it wasn’t fair of him to put all of that on her when she’d been struggling with her own issues. He wanted to be there for her– wanted to support her without making her feel like he wanted something out of it– they were best friends and that meant more to him than he could say but it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to look at her and not be reminded that she was everything he’d want and did want in a partner– that he loved her perhaps more than he loved his other friends and in a way he was coming to realize was really quite different. 

He felt like a child– like a teenager trying to fumble his way through admitting to anyone he’d ever had a crush on that he thought about kissing them more than was entirely appropriate and that thought alone was enough to make him focus on the task at hand: sobering up in any capacity. “I missed you both, though. Do I get double the snuggles because he missed me too? Or am I in time out with you now ‘cause I’m too buzzed?” Oz asked with a quirk of his eyebrow, the smile that returned to his features the slightest bit mischievous as he looked down at Oakley, the playful note in his voice a far cry from the shyness he was now trying to ignore.

***

It didn’t matter how late it was or what she had going on, she’d always make time for the man who’d always been there for her. Even before an old flame had swooped in, Oz had already been there. He’d been the shoulder that the blonde leaned on whenever she needed someone and she’d made it clear that nothing was going to change. Her ex-girlfriend had been surprisingly okay with the male’s presence, but it’d taken a firm conversation and assurance that Oz was simply nothing more than a friend. Her reassurance at the time had been solid and with pure intentions, but it would have been a lie to say that she’d never considered something more with the man. Between how easily he fit into her life and how much she loved his family, it was hard to admit that something between them wouldn’t have been nice. The way Oakley saw it though, was that if he ever wanted something more, he would’ve just said it. “Oz, I’m sure. I promise that my next episode of Crime Scene Kitchen can wait. Last episode, I nearly tossed my remote at the screen because I got it wrong.” Usually, she was good at guessing what mystery dessert was made in the kitchen, but she couldn’t get it right every time, now could she?

“Makes sense as to why you ended up here,” she joked, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she realized how lame the joke was. She liked having him around, but she’d been too stubborn to reach out more. It was part of her plan of developing independence once more, but god, she missed him. “So, are we going to talk about why you smell like an open bar?” Oak knew a lot about him; the good, the bad, and the stuff he just didn’t want to touch on. His words pulled a familiar fluttering feeling in her stomach, one that she normally would have welcomed. Now, she wasn’t sure if it was the booze talking or not. When they reached her kitchen, Apollo had given up on staying put on his doggy bed. She was surprised to see that he wasn’t jumping, but instead stayed put my Oz’s side. “Looks like he missed his favorite stepdad,” she added as she padded toward the fridge. There, she grabbed a gatorade she’d been saving for her morning runs and placed it upon the counter.

It was hard to read him when the alcohol was coursing through his veins. On one hand, he looked perfectly fine, normal even. He looked happy, but she knew briefly of his struggles and how easily they got the best of him. “I couldn’t turn you away even if I wanted to. Just so you know though, I can’t let you walk home tonight. You can crash here. If you want, I have some of your clothes upstairs if you want to change. You can take a shower too,” she offered, rounding the kitchen island to be a little closer to him. “You’re okay, right?” It was an innocent question, one she already knew the answer to. Even if he wasn’t, he had a habit of claiming that he was. “Because you can tell me, y’know? If you aren’t.” 

[fearscoded]

rcncgcdes​ — oz mikkelsen.

Austin Mikkelsen had a– delicate– relationship with his own sobriety. He’d tried to maintain it as best he could and for the most part succeeded— at least until nightmares took up more of his sleep than genuine rest and he could hardly get through a bad day without his hands shaking and an urge to destroy at least one thing around him. Alcohol wasn’t an appropriate solution by any means but it soothed the aches, as it were– helped him to be a fraction of the version of himself he genuinely liked; the version of himself who wasn’t worrying his sisters, his parents, his friends.

That version of himself was becoming less and less easy to access and Oz was drinking more and more as a result– whenever he was off-shift, at this point. He’d go on benders for a day or two and pop back up ready to go to the firehouse and perform his day job with a dependency that had the makings of a promotion every time he walked away from a shift. He was at the bar again– not altogether by choice– but it had taken only brief cajoling for his fellow rescue squad colleagues to convince him to have a few beers after shift. A few beers had turned into a few more and he felt himself almost swaying in his seat as he threw his head back and laughed at some stupid joke or another one of his friends was telling him.

“You good, Dutchie?” One of his friends– Bauer– asked him with a lopsided grin that Oz returned easily as he nodded deeply, a dopey giggle catching in the back of his throat as he reached out to rest his hand on Bauer’s shoulder. “I’m good, man, I’m good. Think I oughta get outta here– maybe walk some of this shit off. Trying you keep up with you delinquents is gonna ruin my liver,” He complained with a teasing push against Bauer’s shoulder that earned a laugh from the other man before he ruffled Oz’s hair and Oz fished out enough money to pay for their last several rounds before he said his goodbyes and began the slow trek home. His truck would have to stay in the bar lot for the night but the owner liked him enough that he wasn’t worried about it getting towed.

Lost in thought, Oz had only half a second to recognize that the neighborhood around him wasn’t his– that he’d made a subconscious choice to walk towards Oakley’s home instead and now that he was almost there he couldn’t bring himself to turn around and go home. He checked his watch with a frown. “Alright, Mikkelsen,” He said under his breath, “You knock. She answers– you go from there. She doesn’t– take your drunk ass home.” He nodded firmly to himself as he continued on towards Oakley’s– the cold air doing a little to soothe his drunkenness but not nearly enough. He rapped on her door quickly, leaning against the frame a bit more heavily than he probably should have been as he waited for her to answer– to the point that when the door started to open he very nearly fell inside– catching himself with a broad smile. “There’s my girl! I hope I’m not interruptin’ anything?”

***

Living without the woman she’d been ready to marry was harder than she’d expected. She was going on almost eight months without the woman around and somehow, things still hurt. She still wasn’t used to waking up to an empty house that was much bigger than she needed. She wasn’t used to not being greeted by a cat, but instead, a dog. Apollo was nearing a year old now and while he’d been a Christmas present from someone she didn’t like to think about, he was everything to her. For months, she’d watched him grow and wondered exactly what kind of puppy he was. He’d shot upwards and tripled in weight, his coat a curly and fluffy mess. Her best guess was some of poodle mix, but the breed DNA test she’d done had solidified that guess. Apollo was part poodle and part springer. Seeing as he nearly sixty pounds before a year old, it made sense. By her calculations, he wasn’t going to get much bigger than that, but he was utterly perfect.

Apollo took up most of her time outside of work, but she always managed to fit in a visit or two with her favorite guy every week if his schedule allowed. Even before her ex had came back into her life, Oz had been her rock. After the woman had left, Oakley had leaned on him twice as much. She’d been a distraught first-time puppy owner, which was rich for someone who cared for animals for a living. He’d stepped in and helped her when no one else could. It was everything and there was a part of herself that had been convinced that she could never do anything without him again. It felt grossly dependent for someone who’d been on her own for so long, but she was tired of pretending like everything was okay.

It wasn’t the knock at the door that caught her attention, but instead, Apollo’s sudden attraction to the front door with his barking and whining. She made quick work of checking the peephole and of course, it was Apollo’s second favorite person on the other side of the door. With a wide smile, Oak pulled back the door and was met by the immediate smell of hard liquor. She bit back a comment and opted for something more friendly. “Unless you count catching up on Crime Scene Kitchen, then no. You’re not interrupting anything. I think Apollo missed you by the way,” she pointed out, the door waiting eagerly by her side for Oz to come in. “Careful when you come in. He’s a little bigger than the last time you saw him.” As a vet, she took advantage of the scales in her clinic and according to the chart she’d made, Apollo was up three pounds from the last time Oz had stopped by. “Apollo. Go settle,” she directed, the pup offering a whine before she looked his way and he trotted off to the living room. “Let’s get you some water.”

[fearscoded]

So far, fake dating hadn’t been all that bad. They got to out, have fun, and as long as someone snapped a few pictures of them, it worked out perfectly. The idea had seemed like a terrible suggestion at first. Two bandmates dating? It was a recipe for disaster, but so far, it’d done them a lot of good in terms of numbers. Not that it mattered. All Letty wanted was to sing their music and do it together. Who cared if they ever topped the charts? It was a night out that had left her a little intoxicated, but it was Luke’s arm that rested atop her lap as they stayed to themselves. It was only when another male approached that Letty’s attention was pulled from Luke entirely. 

How about you let me buy you a drink? I’ve been looking your way all night and I just can’t leave this place tonight without giving a chance. So, what will you be having?

The offer was kind and had Luke not been with her, maybe she would’ve entertained it. However, with them being in a relationship, at least to the public eye, she had to maintain her part and rightfully so. “Only if you’ll buy a round for my boyfriend too.” It was unintentionally flirty and she found herself grabbing Luke’s hand that rested atop her legs.

I don’t buy drinks for the boyfriends, babe. Only the girlfriends who probably aren’t being satisfied in the ways they deserve. All I’m saying is, let me buy you a drink and you might change your mind.

In a way, he had a point. It wasn’t like she and Luke were actively fucking around, but it wasn’t because she didn’t want to. It was just a line they hadn’t crossed yet. “I think I’ll pass, but thanks.” It was easier than entertaining anything and risking someone watching her fail to play the part. “Plus, he’s satisfying me just fine.” And truth was, if they ever did cross that line, she had no doubt that he would.

C’mon, babe. Just one drink. Who knows? You might actually be into it after all.

[fearscoded]

rcncgcdes​

“I can’t,” Ollie managed, a strangled quality to the tone of her voice when she spoke. Her hands tightened around the steering wheel and after a fraction of a second spent considering her next move she glanced around them and pulled into a nearly empty parking lot; they were still at least five minutes from picking up the rest of their friends and Ollie was loosely cognizant of the series of texts she sent to their group chat to let them know that she was running late. It was a lie and she had no real idea what she was doing or thinking as she rested her phone in one of the empty cupholders and exhaled a slow, tremulous breath. Her thoughts were racing and she felt a familiar sense of anxiety creeping up to settle at the base of her skull– this wasn’t the appropriate moment for an explanation or an attempt to re-hash the end of their relationship but timing had never been Ollie’s strong suit and her general sense of being able to focus intently on one or two tasks at a time had narrowed her focus down to Lachlan and Lachlan alone. “I don’t– there’s nothing–” Ollie paused, throwing her hands up with a sound that was somewhere between a huff of frustration and a whine of discomfort.

How was she supposed to admit that she’d only ever been with one person before Lachlan, seriously, and that had hardly counted in her mind considering she’d known Rhys since she was seven and he was back home in Brighton and even their friendship had never been the same; how was she supposed to admit that she’d panicked at the first sign of trouble? That she’d only half believed their friend without realizing he was more Josh’s friend than theirs? “I don’t know what I’m doing,” She said finally, dark eyes shifting from her own hands to Lachlan’s face. “I’m not– good at any of this. Serious relationships scare the fucking shite out of me and I’m not very talented at being like, a great girlfriend. Or maybe I would be if I knew what that even meant. I just– there’s nothing off the table for me. I miss you. We talk every fuckin’ day and I still miss you and it’s my fault so I don’t know why the fuck I’m complaining, y’know? I can’t—” Ollie stopped speaking again, running a hand over her face with another huff. “I can make it work. This weekend. Whatever we need. I– it’s not– I can do this.”  

***

Lachlan hardly considered her relationship with Josh to be something worth bragging over. The male was an idiot beyond belief and truth was, she’d just been lonely and he’d been there to fill the void. It wasn’t like she’d ever loved him and even if she had, it wasn’t like it’d meant anything at all. He’d been a good friend turned decent fuck; how did she admit that to someone without ruining everything? Without putting some wall of distrust up that wasn’t valid. At the same time, it felt unfair to keep from Ollie, especially when Josh was still very much present in her life. Granted, it was rare that the pair hung out with someone else around. It wasn’t that she didn’t trust herself with him, it was that she had no desire to. Even if the male was a completely different guy whenever they were alone. “If there is, you can say it. You don’t have to play along because it’s because I want.” Sure, they wanted to spare their friends the awkward truth of their breakup, but she also didn’t want to put Ollie in a position of discomfort. It was a two way thing, something they both needed to work on and agree to.

When it came to being a good girlfriend, Lachlan liked to think she’d done just that. However, the breakup had stated otherwise. She’d apparently flirted a little too much, though she hadn’t flirted at all in her opinion? She hadn’t even bothered to ask what else had been said about her, only out of anger and frustration toward the female that should’ve trusted her. “It happened. I think the only thing we can do now is make the best of it. “I just want us to have fun. We’ve been looking forward to this trip for months and I know it’s not exactly what we had planned, but maybe we can make the best of it.” She wasn’t going to lie to herself. Odds were, the first night of drinking would have her all over the female to her left. Hands would wander and eyes would too. No amount of awkwardness could stop her. “You have to tell me if I’m doing too much, okay? Because we both know how I get when I drink and I don’t want things to get even more complicated.” She had to be honest, it was the least she could do. “I guess we’ll figure it out as we go, right?”

[fearscoded]

rcncgcdes​

Ollie was a mellow person— almost to a fault, really– she could stare down most situations without batting an eye but even being within five feet of Josh made her more tense than she could recall being in her life. The mere mention of him coming from Lach left a sour taste in her mouth and she found herself frowning, the expression softening the slightest bit at the compliment being tossed her way– her eyes following Lachlan as the other woman set about climbing into the car and Ollie pressed her forehead to the edge of her backpack with a slow, shaky sigh. “Fucking hell, this is gonna be a long weekend,” She muttered, running a hand over her face as she stepped back and closed the trunk of the car a bit harder than she’d intending, wincing as she walked around and slipped into the driver’s seat– flashing Lachlan a quick smile as she started the car. The rest of their friends were supposed to be meeting at Josh’s place so she wouldn’t have to pick them all up individually and Ollie spent the fifteen minute drive humming along to whatever was on the radio and trying to ignore the fact that being this close to Lachlan made her feel like she was going to vibrate out of existence.

“How um, we should talk, right? I mean, obviously we’re talking right now and we haven’t stopped talking but we should– it’d be good to sort out some things, yeah? Boundaries, for example, if uh - if you need them,” Ollie paused, huffing out a hard breath as she tried to collect her thoughts in mid-speech. “It’s not… I mean– fuck, Lach– it’s not really gonna be hard for me to act like we’re still together but if there’s shit I can’t do then I need to know. I know I’ve made this pretty fucking awkward, as is, but I don’t…” She paused again, trailing off and staring hard at the car in front of them as they rolled to a stop at a red light. There was no way she was going to get even a fraction of what she’d wanted to say to Lachlan since they’d broken up out into the world before they would have to pretend to be fine and dandy and together. “I don’t wanna fuck up our relationship more than I already have. So, just– I’ll follow your lead on this, okay?” Her expression was almost painfully earnest as she glanced at Lachlan from the corner of her eye, relieved that the changing traffic light drew her attention away before she could do anything more embarrassing.

***

The truth was, Lachlan wasn’t sure if Josh’s feelings had ever been real or if they’d always been something of the I only want you because someone else does type. Even after they’d broken up, he’d been there for her, despite how many times she’d told him that they weren’t getting back together. Her faults had been the times that they had, but in all fairness, she hadn’t meant a single night of it. When she’d met Ollie though, it all stopped. The texts, the calls, the jokes; she had no interest in entertaining a guy she would never want to be with, That, and she had more than she needed in the other woman. More than she’d ever had with him. In the comfort of the front seat, Lach didn’t even flinch at the closing of the trunk. She expected worse, but she was sure it wasn’t something Ollie had done on purpose. After all, it was the other that had decided to call things off for a reason that Lach still hadn’t been able to wrap her mind around. She was a long way from being unfaithful, but it seemed that Ollie had already made up her mind when it came to the conversation that’d broke them.

Turning to the woman in the driver’s seat, Lachlan almost wanted to say no. It was easier to pretend that nothing was different than to set rules they needed to follow. “I don’t,” she exhaled with confidence. She had no problem pretending like nothing had changed, mostly because that’s how she wanted it to be. No part of her wanted to break up, not even when she considered the lack of trust between them. “I don’t need boundaries unless you do. If you want them to believe we’re still together, we have to sell it.” Sure, things weren’t like they were, but Lachlan also wasn’t willing to give up the selfish things she still wanted to do with the other. “I don’t want this trip to be ruined because we’re panicking over our relationship.” Or lack thereof, she failed to add. “So, if there’s something you want off the table, go ahead and say it.” If it were up to Lachlan, she would’ve already reached out, even though there was no one to pretend for. 

[fearscoded]

rcncgcdes​

“Mm, I’d try but Tyler’d bitch about it for ages,” Ollie said in return, rolling her eyes with something that might have resembled fondness – at least for Tyler; she had no fondness to speak of for Josh and it wasn’t something she’d ever made an effort to hide. It wasn’t even the fact that he was Lach’s ex — Ollie, as far as she was concerned, was a grown woman and she could handle being around someone who’d dated her girl– ex-girlfriend, she reminded herself absently. No, the fact that Josh had dated Lachlan at all had never been something that bothered her all that deeply - it was the fact that Josh was one of the most obnoxious people she’d ever met in her life and seemed to be constantly on the verge of saying something to set her off – on purpose, as far as she could tell. He was cocky and annoying and Ollie had never met a single person she hadn’t gotten along with until him and in spite of her best efforts she couldn’t find it in herself to back off whenever she was butting heads with him. If anything, he brought out the worst parts of her without fail.

“Did you? Shitheads,” She mumbled, a soft laugh following the comment, her eyes flicking away from Lach as she began to shift their luggage in the back of the rental car to ensure that everything was going to fit properly. Ollie drew her bottom lip between her teeth as she listened to Lach’s request– her grip against one of their bags tightening for a long moment before she exhaled slowly and relaxed, her head dipping in a slow nod. “If I have the radio up I doubt I’ll hear him, anyhow,” She said after a moment of consideration, “S’not my fault he’s a prick, Lachs. Or that he never leaves me the fuck alone– he just sets me off and thinks it’s the funniest fuckin’ thing he’s ever done.” She wasn’t without fault in the situation by any means but she was stubborn almost to a fault and admitting that she couldn’t help but be jealous of Josh in the situations that usually prompted their arguments wasn’t something she was willing to do. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll be good. Cross my heart.”

***

“Then I guess that’s not an option.” She would’ve given anything to turn around and throw her bags back into her room. She could’ve avoided the inevitable arguments that Josh started with everyone, Ollie especially. It was like the pair couldn’t stand to be in the same space as one another and she couldn’t wrap her head around it. If Josh was jealous, that was on him. If Ollie was jealous, well, that was on Lach. She thought she’d made it more than clear that the three years or so spent with the male had been a total waste of time. It’d just taken her three years too long to realize it. “Yeah,” she hummed, tongue falling against her bottom lip as she watched Ollie shift around the luggage. She wanted to help, but getting any closer than she already was seemed to be a dangerous game. While they were pretending to be together, they weren’t. So, if no one was watching, there wasn’t any pretending that needed to be done.

“He only tries so hard because you make it easy.” Even with Lachlan doing her best to keep things civil between the two, it never failed that one of them jumped out of line. Usually, it was Josh trying to prove something. “He’s just jealous.” Jealous that she’d finally walked away from him and had settled in with someone new. Someone that wasn’t him. “Just, ignore it. He doesn’t matter.” Even if they weren’t technically together, Lach wasn’t in the business of entertaining anything or anyone else. “For the record,” she hummed, moving a little closer to the woman she now could no longer claim. “It’s cute when you get pissed at him. Just, don’t let it be a thing.” With that, Lach grinned a little wider and made her way into the vehicle. It’d be a long trip, but at least she could make the best of it. Or well, try to.

[fearscoded]

rcncgcdes​

“Worst fuckin’ idea you’ve had in ages, Chen,” Ollie grumbled the comment under her breath, fidgeting absently with the sunglasses perched on the edge of her nose as she leaned against the rental car she’d been charged with collecting along with all of her friends and– as of a week ago– now ex-girlfriend, waiting for Lachlan to emerge so they could go along with picking the rest of their friends up. In the week since Ollie had abruptly broken up with her - they’d spoken just enough to agree that they were one: going to go on this trip as though nothing was wrong and two: would wait until the trip reached its end to tell the rest of their friends that they weren’t together. Regret wasn’t something Ollie was intimately familiar with— she rarely made choices of the sort that would inspire regret at any point and though Lachlan was the first serious girlfriend she’d had since she was a teenager it hadn’t stopped her from full on panicking after being fed some story by one of their other friends and pulling the rug out from under them in one fell swoop.

She’d regretted choosing to break up with Lachlan almost the instant it had happened but she was entirely unsure as to how she was supposed to walk that back; especially now that they’d agreed that they would pretend their relationship hadn’t changed in the slightest. Her brow furrowed more and more deeply as she waited until she was scowling at the toes of her shoes, glancing up at the sound of footsteps in her vicinity. Her heart - as it had since they’d made - gave an uncomfortable lurch in her chest as she looked at Lachlan and smiled, a weak approximation of her usual smile. “Hey, babe - all set?” The pet name was almost reflexive and Ollie resisted the urge to cringe as she registered using it at all. It felt inappropriate to use it so casually when she’d been the one to break it off but she couldn’t take it back and barreled through the feeling of awkwardness with a slightly wider smile. “Who’re we grabbin’ first? Still don’t know why you lot elected the Brit to drive so if this goes poorly it’s absolutely not my fault.”

***

The truth was, no part of Lachlan wanted to go on a trip with her ex-girlfriend and ex-boyfriend, if she could even call him that. She hated how long she’d lasted with Josh by comparison to the failed relationship with Ollie. She was doing her best to wrap her head around the breakup, but it was hard to understand where it’d all come from. One minute, they’d been happy, the next, they were calling it quits. The way Lach saw it, it’d been a misunderstanding, one that she hadn’t even tried to clear up. If Ollie couldn’t trust her, then maybe it was the best after all. “Hey,” she called back, not expecting things to sound so real. They weren’t together, but no one else in the friend group could know that. It would’ve ruined the entire weekend and as much as Lach wanted to back out with some lame excuse, she didn’t. In fact, the only reason she’d even bothered packing and going through with it was for the chance to talk to Ollie about what had or hadn’t happened before their breakup.

“Personally, I think we should just skip over Jay and say we made a mistake,” she called out with a grin, though she meant it. She didn’t want to see him, but he was part of the circle and that wasn’t going to change. “For the official record, I volunteered to take first shift and got denied.” It had been the safest bet on staying around from Josh, but everyone else had pointed toward Ollie. Which, was probably smart all the same. “Just, do me a favor. Don’t give him a hard time. He’s a jerk and we’ve known that awhile now.” She knew they’d end up arguing, it was without fail each and every time. “And if he says something, I’ll handle it.” It was probably for the best anyway.

[fearscoded]

rcncgcdes​

In all the years they’d known one another Lexa had never found it difficult to talk to Andrew— they occasionally butted heads because of how little she kept from him in their lives but for the first time since they’d met she found herself tongue tied in front of him. How could she explain that she’d missed him every second that she was gone? That she’d assumed it would be easier for him to live his life if she could just let it happen. It had been stupid– that was the most generous description she could think to apply– he was a grown man and he’d always been capable of making choices for himself— it had been selfish of her to take those choices away from him and she regretted it. She shifted from one foot to another as she stared at the table– unblinking, her brow furrowed, a frown on her face before she glanced at him again– her eyes bright and intense even in the lower light in the bar. “It doesn’t matter how I feel about Claire,” Lexa said, “I care about you. I don’t care who you are I don’t think people get divorces without feeling something about it. I’m sorry if you’re hurting– that’s– if anything… that’s what I’d apologize for.” It was as close as she could come to admitting that she still loved him– that in spite of her relief she had never wanted anything in the world to happen that would hurt him physically or emotionally. She was a deeply compassionate person at the core of her being and Andrew made her remember that again and again no matter how hard she tried to forget.

She rolled her eyes hard in response to his teasing but the smile that bloomed on her features at the familiarity in it was enough to make up for it. “We’ve got a long way to go, big guy– don’t get too comfortable,” She drawled in return, one hand settled on her hip as she looked back at him. “It’s… slow,” Lexa started, her nose wrinkling at just how accurate that description was. “But I don’t mind most of the time, y’know? When I was still…” She trailed off and clicked her tongue, her lip trembling as she fought off a wave of emotion she hadn’t expected to wash over her at the thought of what her final shifts in Chicago had been like. “I was barely sleeping before I left. I had nightmares every night– I’d wake up and think I was bleeding out all over again and freak the fuck out. I couldn’t focus. My dad sat me down and told me it wasn’t… that it didn’t make me less of a cop to admit that I wasn’t okay. He thought a change would be good for me.” She paused, sniffing hard to give herself a second to breathe. She hadn’t explained her reasons to leaving to anyone in full detail– simply packed up and requested a transfer and left as soon as it had gone through and Andrew deserved more than that from her– even if her timing and the choice of venue to share all of it wasn’t exactly ideal.

“So, yeah— it can be slow and I work more hunting accidents than real murders but I’m sleeping. And I feel kind of happy and I think that matters.” She huffed out a laugh at his off-hand comment and studied the table for a long, quiet moment before she stepped into Andrew’s space and looked up at him– reaching out to settle a hand on his hip tentatively with her bottom lip drawn between her teeth. “I’m sorry I disappeared,” She told him, earnest and firm. “I decided for both of us and it wasn’t fair. It was pretty fucking stupid, actually and by the time I figured that out it seemed like it’d been too long… so, I guess I was just being stupid all around.” Her fingers tightened in the fabric of his shirt and she exhaled slowly, “I really missed you. I thought about you… every day. Which feels even more pathetic when I say it out loud but I’m already here so, whatever, I guess. It’s really good to see you– to– have you here. I mean it.”

The only person to have ever looked past the happy facade he and Claire had been putting on had been Lexa. She’d called his bluff and he hadn’t even tried to deny it. His marriage had been in shambles the moment they walked off base, but both had been dedicated to making it work. As it turned out, not even all of the dedication in the world could’ve saved them. “I thought things were getting better for a bit,” he admitted, feeling guilty for ever thinking he could fix his relationship with his wife when all he wanted was the woman before him now. “Even if things had magically worked out, I still don’t think either of us would’ve been happy. We weren’t those dumb teenagers looking to shack up on the same base.” He’d told her the story of how thee marriage even began. They were a week away from being placed across the United States and out of fear of being torn apart, they rushed a marriage. Once official, they stuck together through their first and only tour together. Four years active duty and two years inactive; all spent together. After that, the marriage wasn’t necessary and it didn’t take long to figure that out. “We only moved to Chicago to be closer to her family,” he shrugged, eyes finding Lexa’s through the poorly lit room. “Guess that’s one good thing that came from it.”

As many ways as he’d imagined their first meeting to go, this somehow seemed to be the best possible option. The game of pool was enough to keep lazy smiles on their faces, but the conversation in between left his chest aching. He couldn’t blame himself for her leaving and he knew that. Still, he blamed himself for the accident that led up to her departure. If only he’d paid more attention or let another detective take the arrest. Had he been chasing the glory of the arrest? Had he really been so goddamn focused on being the one to cuff the bastard that he’d let his own partner slip into danger? “Your dad was right,” he nodded and swallowed down a lump in his throat. She had needed something different, but he hadn’t been in any place to offer that advice. “They never let that me live down that day,” he hummed, hoping to lighten the moment. If they talked too much about what happened, the guilt would consume him. “Guess I started a war. Captain wasn’t even pissed. He said he would’ve done the same thing.” Granted he’d gotten a nice busted lip himself, but no one disrespected his partner.

Andrew nodded at her statement about being happy. Of course that mattered. As far as he was concerned, that mattered above all else. “Maybe the change of pace will be nice for me too.” He hated paperwork, but then again, he loved being in the field. Hunting accidents or murders, he’d always be there to investigate if they gave him the chance. Instinctively, Drew’s hand moved downwards, fingers curling gently around her wrist. “Hey, don’t do that,” he mumbled lowly, thumb rubbing soft circles into her skin. It was how he’d comforted her during their darkest hours; a simple touch as a reminder that he was there. He would always be there. “As far as I’m concerned, you were doing what you needed to do. You were taking care of yourself and I can’t be pissed at that.” Sure, it’d hurt like hell to come into an empty desk where she’d always been, but after everything that happened, he couldn’t blame her. “I thought about you too,” he finally admitted, suddenly not giving a damn about the game they were in the middle of. “Look, let’s get out of here. You can kick my ass another day, but there’s a lot I want to say and this whole place doesn’t need to a front row seat.” If she said no, he wouldn’t understood that too. “Your call.”

[fearscoded]

rcncgcdes​

“When have I ever taken it easy on anyone?” It was a rhetorical question– delivered with a curious tilt of her head to accompany the growing smirk on her lips. Competition was something she appreciated in every way she could get it— whether that competition involved running pool tables during undercover operations or betting the cops in her unit she could drink them under the table in ten seconds flat– Lexa had always thrived on being able to prove that she was the best equipped to do anything she chose to do in her life. A fair few of those nights had resulted in leaning on Andrew while he guided her into her apartment building– her arm wrapped around him or pressing giggles into his shoulder when she was just a bit too drunk to be self-conscious about how much she enjoyed being close to him. The thought alone made her smile soften and she wished– for a brief, quiet moment– that she had the balls to walk up to him and kiss him the way she’d been imagining since the day she’d heard he and Claire had split up. What was wrong with her? Was it cruel for her to be relieved that his marriage had ended? Was it wrong to want to comfort him knowing full well that she wasn’t objective in the matter? Was it selfish for her to be genuinely happy he had found her after all? In spite of everything– they were together in the loosest sense and Lexa could feel a tension uncoiling in her that had been building every second of every day they’d been apart.

But there was no way she could lay all of that out for him— not when she’d been the one to leave; not until she had some sense of whether he’d want to hear any of it from her at all. If he gave her any kind of sign, she reasoned, then she would go for it– but until that moment she would try her damnedest to keep herself together. To remind herself that Andrew had been her best friend before he’d been anything else and she could remember that feeling– she could appreciate that about him without having to fall further down the rabbit hole than she was already going. She felt rooted to the spot for an eternity before she approached him and rested a hand on his forearm with a softness in her expression she hadn’t focused on anyone in god knew how long. “Gabe told me,” She admitted quietly, squeezing his arm lightly and trying her best to ignore the way touching his skin made her nerves spark to life in an instant. “I’d say I’m sorry to hear it but…” She trailed off and shook her head, her eyes downcast– bottom lip drawn between her teeth as she wavered between honesty and half-truths.

In the end she moved away without finishing her thought, focused instead on the pool table and the game they’d just started– a game she was sure wasn’t confined to the table so much as it was a game they were playing with each other. A test to see where they stood after their time apart even if neither of them were willing or capable of talking about it just yet. They’d always been able to read between the lines when it came to one another and Lexa was certain Andrew could see the tension in her– see the almosts in every one of her thoughts and hear them in everything she wasn’t saying. She exhaled slowly as she took another shot– rolling her eyes when she missed entirely and fixed her gaze on Andrew with a defiant expression, “You know me well enough to know that’s not happening, D. I’m four wins in tonight– you think I’m gonna break my streak on you? I sure don’t.”  

Whether or not she would believe him, Andrew remembered their first day working the beat together and just how stubborn she’d been. When they’d told him his partner was going to be one of the only females on the force, Bradford hadn’t questioned it. He was a rookie looking to make it up in the ranks and if that meant doing it by the side of her, then he’d always been more than willing to do it. Truth was, she was a better officer than any of the dudes could’ve ever be or ever would be. She was smart, quick on her feet, and took no bullshit from anyone. He was lucky to have her as a partner and as a friend, and as whatever he’d considered throughout it all. She had pushed him to make detective and continued to push him even after they’d both made the ranks. She was his best friend and somewhere along the blurred lines, he’d fell hard for her. For a moment after his divorce, Drew had half way considered calling her. He wanted to share the news to the only person who knew the details of his marriage and how it had failed before it even truly began. He had always trusted Lexa with everything, but the moment she’d left Chicago had been the moment he stopped giving her updates. If she’d wanted them, she would’ve bothered staying in touch. Yet, once it’d been official, the only thing he could think of was being there in person to tell her.

Fucking Gabe. Still, even after someone had told her, she hadn’t reached out to him. Was that a sign that she didn’t give a shit? “Of course he did,” he scoffed lightly, eyes rolling. He couldn’t even deliver the news of his own divorce without someone else beating him to the final blow. “She didn’t even give me a chance to fix it. I don’t think I would’ve tried even if she had,” he admitted quietly, feeling guilty that he’d let a marriage come and go. Did he tell why it’d happened? That his ex-wife had literally told him that she couldn’t continue waking up next to a man who was thinking about someone else? That, even after Lexa had left the state, he was still thinking about her and how much he wanted her back? Hell, Claire had even pulled him into couples therapy, only to figure out that not even the best therapist could fix something that was already broken. “No need for an apology. I know how you two felt about one another.” Claire had hated Lexa, Lexa had hated Claire. While Claire was more vocal about the dislike, he knew Lexa all too well to know just how she felt.

After the blonde had missed her shot, Andrew stepped closer to the table, still thinking about the way her touch had felt against his arm. He wanted to hug her; to tell her just how happy he was to see her again, but he didn’t. “Keep playing like that and I’m pretty sure your streak is over,” he challenged, bumping into her playfully before taking an easy shot to sink a striped ball. “Tell me,” he hummed, pausing as he stood up straight to look back at her. “How does a big time Chicago detective make it out here in Providence Peak? Doesn’t exactly seem like people are dropping bodies out here.” Homicide had been their finest unit outside of narcotics, but it seemed like the two went hand in hand most days. “Don’t get me wrong. The change of pace could be nice, but it just seems like stuff could get a little boring.” With that, Andrew positioned for his next shot, sinking another ball before immediately going for his third. Turns out, third time wasn’t always a charm, but it looked like it’d set her up for the perfect next play. “You can thank me for that one later with a drink.”

[fearscoded]

rcncgcdes​

If there was one thing in the world Lexa wasn’t used to or all that comfortable doing it was running away from her problems. She’d always been headstrong– always been stubborn and willing to run a problem into the ground until she solved it. Her transfer to Providence Peak and the fact that she’d all but abandoned Andrew in her haste to leave had broken her heart a million times over. She’d felt that much more ridiculous about the decision when she heard from her brother that Andrew and his wife had split up after all– that Lexa’s presence in his life likely hadn’t made any change to what would have happened in their relationship inevitably, that the fact that she loved him would likely never have been something she needed to run away from. But she’d run anyway— terrified of all of the talk, of all of the politics and bullshit that would come from pursuing a genuine relationship with someone she’d been in love with for years without having the ability to do anything at all about it. And now– he was standing in front of her in a too-loud bar in a too-small town and all of her regrets and mistakes were rushing to the forefront of her mind and threatening to overwhelm her. All she wanted to do was apologize to him— to express how much it had hurt to walk away from him and how much it still hurt to see him in an entirely new environment and still know with every ounce of certainty she possessed that he was the love of her life.

Her shoulders rose in an easy shrug as she glanced at Ryan-Jeremy-Whoever’s retreating back and flashed Andrew a crooked, cheeky smile, “I’m a gracious winner, babe– if I take all of their money who else is gonna play with me?” It had always been easy to talk to him— even when they’d both been wet behind the ears patrol officers their relationship had been dynamic and easy– their banter had come along quickly and Lexa had never once stressed about saying the wrong thing to Andrew or doing anything that he would judge her for. They called each other out on their shit when it was warranted but aside from her family Lexa had always considered Andrew to be her most steadfast support system– her most ardent champion. He was there for her in ways no one else in the world could ever hope to be and she found herself missing that all at once– hoping, quietly, that his presence in Providence Peak meant that they might be able to fix what she’d broken so selfishly.

“Oh, yeah?” Her expression shifted towards something that might have been surprise had she not been hearing talk throughout the department for the last several days that they were getting another transfer from her area. Chicago was a massive city and she hadn’t entertained for even a fraction of a second that Andrew could have been her new transfer. “I’ve been partner-less since I transferred, so– it’ll be just like old times, huh?” Her fingers tightened against the pool cue in her hands and she rolled her shoulders– an old reflex she leaned on when she was trying not to reveal to someone just how tense she was in any given moment. “If I win…” She started, humming softly as she finished racking the balls and went on to break with a satisfied smile– watching one of the solids roll in. “I guess we’ll start with another drink, yeah? You buy and we’ll see how it goes. Unless you have a counter-offer.”

***

Thumb rubbed at the inside of his ring finger, the wedding band that had once been there now gone. It was still something he was getting used to and on bad days, he found himself putting it on out of habit. After all, he’d been married for ten years and he was a creature of habit above all else. Today though, the solid black wedding band was tucked away in the top drawer of his nightstand. If it stayed there, there was no risk of him grabbing it as if it were part of his morning routine. The last thing he needed was a bunch of Providence Peak jerks looking for something to dig into. He already knew how transferring went. The newbie was always pounded with questions as if they had something to hide. It was how they treated anyone new in Chicago. If anyone was caught in a lie, all trust was lost. It was a little unfair now that Andrew feared he’d be on the other side of questioning, but if Lexa had made it through just fine, then so could he. No one would throw them together just because they’d worked together, right? Did anyone even know he’d been her partner, or had she forgot to mention that part of her career? Not that anyone would know him by name.

He remembered the stings they’d assisted on, some of which had included her kicking some scumbag’s ass at a game of pool. He’d always had her back and partner or not, he always would. “Remember when we were helping out with narcotics and you almost started a bar fight after you beat that guy at a game? I thought I was going to take a pool stick to the head after I stepped in.” She could handle herself, but when it came to someone threatening her in anyway, Drew had never been one to stand down. “From gangbangers to nine to fivers. You’ve really got to take it easy on these guys.” He doubted anyone in that bar was capable of beating her, but if anyone was going to give it a fair shot, it was the man who knew he best. At least, he assumed he still knew her like the back of his hand.

Just like old times. Grip tightened around the stick as he stared back at her. Old times had ended his marriage, but it wasn’t like he was bitter about it. They’d needed to sign divorce papers years ago; it’d just took a little push for Claire to be the one to do it. “Except this time, I won’t have a wife trying to tell me what I can and can’t do.” It wasn’t the way he wanted to tell her about his divorce, but it seemed like an easy transition. “She filed for divorce a few months ago. She said she’d been thinking about it for awhile, but wanted to try again. Guess I didn’t pass the test,” he exhaled quietly, head shaking. “I just thought you should know.” Considering his wife had put a wedge between their partnership the first time around. Jaw tightened as he watched her sink a solid with ease. Goddamn. “I’m good with a drink,” he nodded and stepped closer to the table. “Don’t take it easy on me, Stavros.”

[fearscoded]

rcncgcdes​

Providence Peak was about as far afield of Chicago as Lexa thought any one place could be; back home she’d worked everything from high profile murder cases to months long cases involving various Chicago gangs and drug cartels and just about everything that people seemed to assume only the cops on television ever dealt with. Every day of her beat with the Intelligence Unit had been exciting and every day at Providence Peak was slow and easy and rarely involved more work than investigating her fair share of hunting accidents and bodies being dumped in the mountains where it was assumed they would never be found. For the most part Lexa appreciated the change— she still woke up in cold sweats thinking about the stabbing that had ended her career in Chicago and she spent more time than she liked thinking about Drew and every other miscellaneous thing she’d left behind in her hometown. It was exhausting to be in her own skin most days but she could appreciate the small Colorado town if only for the fresh start it offered her– that and the fact that she was quickly becoming perhaps an unfairly skilled pool shark at The Jagged Yard– not for lack of trying by the male patrons who wanted to best her.

She winced in feigned sympathy as she watched two more of the striped balls fall into the pockets she may or may not have called ahead of time in a fit of cockiness– biting back a laugh at the almost frantic look the guy she’d been playing with was sporting. “Aw, come on, dude— you look like you’re gonna cry. How ‘bout this? I’ll buy you a beer even if you lose– with my own money, even,” Lexa offered, grinning at her pool partner in a way that was probably more shit-eating than was entirely warranted but she’d always been competitive and even casual games were enough to get her going. The guy– she thought his name was Ryan or Jeremy or something else basic and ubiquitous she couldn’t be bothered to remember– was opening his mouth to respond when she heard another voice– one that made her stand rigid in place in the same moment her heart gave a hard leap in her chest.

“It’s not my fault these small town boys can’t keep up,” She replied coolly, her eyes drifting over Drew as surreptitiously as she could manage– the knowledge that she’d missed him more than she wanted to admit lingering somewhere in the back of her mind. She glanced at the townie she was playing with and fished a five dollar bill out of the front pocket of her jeans, passing it off to him and nodding towards the bar before she began to walk around the table– collecting the balls to re-rack them before she glanced at Drew again. “We both know I’ll kick your ass, Bradford– what do I get when I win?” A blonde brow quirked briefly as she studied him, her chin tilted upwards the slightest bit– a challenge written all over her features even as her heart continued to race that much faster in her chest.

***

All he wanted was a cold beer and a warm place to drink it. He hadn’t asked for her to be standing there, nor had he asked for her to offer up a game of pool. Part of him wanted to walk away; to give her a nod and hit the doors. He wasn’t ready to talk about everything that he thought needed to be talked about between them, but at the same time, he wasn’t ready to ignore it either. In his mind, she’d packed up and left him high and dry, even after he’d defended her honor time and time again. He’d even allowed his marriage to end over it. Had she heard about that? Did she even care? Odds were, even if she did know, maybe she assumed it was inevitable. After all, she was the only person who knew the full story to his marriage. Everyone else at their old department had always talked about how lucky he was to have a wife like Clair. She was a woman who understood the job, but didn’t understand the dynamic of partners. Then again, he couldn’t blame her. They’d met during basic training; who was to say he wouldn’t fall in love with the rookie cop he started with and climbed the chain of command alongside of? When he’d gotten the promotion to detective, there was no one else he wanted by his side. After she’d left, that idea hadn’t changed.

“That’s what you get from playing hardball in Chicago to child’s play in Providence Peak,” he shrugged, amused by just how annoyed the male she’d been playing with looked. Andrew had always been the jealous type and his ex-wife had called him on it more than once. The most memorable time had been at a charity dinner when Lexa had brought some tool as her date. He was almost certain he’d emptied out the bar watching them dance and Claire had watched him do it. After that, every fight seemed to revolve around the blonde. “I thought the guy was supposed to buy the woman a drink? Even after she kicks his ass?” Lexa wasn’t just some woman; she was a badass with a cause. She hadn’t needed someone buying her drink sin Chicago and he doubted she needed that here.

For once, whatever flirting lingered between them was allowed. He didn’t have a wedding ring stopping him, but the tan line was still there. “Depends. What do you want?” This kind of banter was normal for them, even if it didn’t seem entirely innocent. Truth was, it wasn’t. No matter how much he’d tried to justify his relationship with Lexa, nothing about it had been innocent. Even when they were patrolling the streets together, he’d loved her. That love didn’t go away with time, instead, it grew. It seemed everyone knew that he felt that way about her except for himself. “I’ll even let you break. If you’re going to kick my ass, I’d rather know from the start.” It felt like years since they’d found themselves in a position like this. Odds were incredibly high that she’d kick his ass, but if it meant getting to play a simple game of catchup on the side, he’d go for it. “I feel like you should know that I start with the PD tomorrow. Transfer just went through a few days ago.”