gallagherxnolan

[gallagherxnolan]

( angelia paredes​ )

When he tossed her unorthodox greeting back to her, a little smirk hung on one side of her mouth. “Hi, Nolan. How are you doing?” A manicured brow lifted in equal amusement and curiosity. These training sessions had been all about business, and Angelia seemed to have an affinity for throwing a curve ball.

Dropping her little hand towel onto the floor, then leaning down to add her keys and water bottle next to it— the voice actor righted herself and took in the bounty hunter’s possible scenarios. It wasn’t something she liked to do, let her mind wander back to the day she’d lost her father, but that was exactly where Angelia’s thoughts ventured.

“Of course,” she agreed, a slight nod of her head and crossing her arms into a sort of hug around her lithe frame as she stepped closer to Nolan, “but what if it was a de-escalate situation?” Her father had tried to step between two people in a rage over nothing, to hopefully distract and help them to see the issue was being blown out of proportion. For that, he paid the ultimate price. 

“Just aggression and rage.” Swallowing, Angelia’s eyes reached up to his, curious about all the things he’d seen. It told a story, one that she was left to fill all the blanks in on why and how Nolan had come to know enough of all this to teach others. “I feel as though drunks would be a bit easier to manage. I’m talking about the screaming matches that you see growing so unnecessarily heated, trying to intervene before it’s no longer words…”

Even though Angelia knew her request likely came off as peculiar and then made worse by her vague explanation, she wasn’t turning back now. Looking like a fool didn’t matter to her now if it meant she could avoid something somehow in the future.

Following Nolan’s command, she moved and then looked up at him again. Knowing in a real life danger situation that she wouldn’t have time to sit and contemplate, Angelia tried to respond in a quick-fire fashion. “Umm, I think I’d go for your wrist. To keep you from being able to make any wild swings if you had a knife in your hand.”

➢ ➢ ➢

A flash of amusement crossed otherwise gruff features when she gave him a more conventional greeting. “Can’t complain. And yourself?” Though they were hardly friends, Nolan was not above the occasional pleasantry. He might not have been great at small talk, but he knew how to go through the initial motions. Besides, no one really shared what they were thinking or how they were doing when asked. It was a moot point to even inquire when the expected response was often provided. And if it ever deviated from the usual “good thanks,” people never wanted to hear it.

Focusing on the scenarios she was giving him, Nolan was rather sure that she had seen something in her life. Maybe she had been in the middle of, or too close to, a fight sometime in the past. That was why her statements, though vague in describing the actions, were specific in certain details. For example, no alcohol. Most wouldn’t specify as much—they would say well I want to know how to handle both. It was the mention of a knife that piqued his interest. He couldn’t help but wonder, did Angelia really want to know about de-escalation alone? Or was there another layer to this request? But Nolan didn’t bother to pry into the details of the situation she painted. It was her past, her business. He was just a teacher, there to answer questions. Not ask where they came from.

“You don’t want to go for one wrist alone,” he began, moving towards her to grab one wrist. “Lets say that you only grab the one, the other is still fully open and now you’re in front of me rather than the other person. In a rage, I might attack you.” He wrapped his other hand around her second wrist, now incapacitating both her arms. “Even if you have no use of your hands, but the same issue still remains. I’m in front of you and I am an obstacle now.”  Dropping her arms, he took a few steps back to explain further.

“It might seem obvious but if you are facing someone, you are going to want to get beside them or between them and just push. You need to create physical distance between the parties to avoid someone getting hurt. Palm flat, push each person as hard as you can back.” He tapped around the middle of his chest to show her the location she should be aiming for. Best leverage to really get them back and staggering. 

[gallagherxnolan]

( natalia de leon​ )

Where: Dance club on the outskirts of Vancouver Who: Open (Limiting replies at 5-6 because I’m slow af)

“Well I definitely wasn’t expecting to ever see you here.” This place had become somewhat of a sanctuary for her, and over the past two years it had been a rare occurence to see someone she actually knew here. It was the one place Natalia had tapped into a part of herself she had locked away after high school when she had turned down an admission to Juilliard. As much as she loved her hiking and camping expeditions, this was the one place, in all of its darkly lit glory that had her feeling doubtful of the life path she had chosen. “So are you secretly into dance clubs or did you get dragged here?”​

​ ➢ ➢ ➢

Nor was it a place that Nolan often found himself. In fact he was only inside on the off-chance that someone he was trying to find would also be there. Well not exactly the target themselves. Rather a distant relative—someone who apparently was last seen at this club with the man of interest to Nolan. A voice surprised him, figuring that he wouldn’t find anyone he knew at a place like this. Or rather, a few towns over. Part of the job required discreetness and he couldn’t have people recognizing him. “Take a guess.” His body language was hardly comfortable, but he tried his best to blend in. It definitely wasn’t his everyday scene and now Nolan worried he stood out like a sore thumb.

[gallagherxnolan]

( everly de santis​ )

Once Nolan took the photograph Everly peeled her eyes away from him. She couldn’t stomach witnessing potential flashes of pity. It wasn’t like she thought he was the type. It was she didn’t know what type Nolan was. At their core, he had been a comfort she took, knowing that there were no strings between them. He was a distraction, one she had found herself returning to more than once- a fact she didn’t dwell on for long, for surely it would chase her away from one of the habits she’d formed that she enjoyed. When Everly had left her life behind in the city, she didn’t regret it, but she did know it wouldn’t be the same, not anymore. After a beat, she chanced, lifting her eyes to his face. There was a flush of hope that she couldn’t squash quickly enough. Everly cleared her throat of the rush of emotion that made a tight knot warble and ache. Picking her fingers, she eyed his curiously, wondering how much she could trust him. Before leading, she sighs and drapes her hair over her shoulder, “What I have depends on your morality on less than legally obtained information.” Everly piqued a manicured brow, “Hypothetically.” She added just in case. Standing, she paced her room, not enjoying this vulnerable feeling that made waves in her abdomen. She was too full of latent energy to sit still, so she paced with no end goal in mind, slow long strides to the bay windows that overlooked her apartment’s community garden. Pausing she turned to face him, pulling the hem of his shirt as if she was suddenly realizing she was wearing it- sighing Everly shrugged her slim shoulders. “Eden was involved in a less than legal life style and before we continue I’m not sure what I’m looking for is the run of the mill justice the world would want me to have. More than that I want answers for my family, for myself. I don’t think I can move on with whatever sense of life I have left until then.”

➢ ➢ ➢

Unfortunately in his line of works, these types of requests were most common. Granted, people sometimes asked him to hunt a family member down and he would have to return with the miserable news that his search had turned up a body, not a person. But it wasn’t so rare to hear of a family seeking closure. Who were upset with the way the investigation was being handled at the department. Though Nolan was technically also a contractor for the PD, he saw himself as an independent agent. He went through just as rigorous a vetting process for cases he took from them as he did these. As he told Detective Sommers long ago—he only sold-out crooks and cheats. The resemblance between her and her sister was striking. He wondered if their mannerisms were also the same.

When she evaded his question, choosing instead to begin pacing mindlessly, Nolan decided to cut to the chase. If he was going to help her—which he would depending on the information she gave him—he needed her to be straight with him. “I don’t care how you got what you got. I’m not law enforcement. I can do what they can’t.” He didn’t break, but he could definitely bend some rules. “So do you have anything for me?” He placed the photo back down, no longer needing it and figuring that maybe she didn’t want to part with it. Though  he was generally perceptive, it would hardly take a detective to uncover her discomfort with the request and the topic. The anxiety emanated from every fiber of her being.

Nolan, sadly enough, was never too great at consoling people. He didn’t have the right words and couldn’t formulate coherent statements of comfort. Instead he could just offer his services and an ear while they spoke. Which was what he did for her, letting her share what she wanted about her sister. Maybe she was not yet ready for the help and was only just broaching the subject. Eventually she would seek him out for more answers. “You’re not looking to prosecute; you just want to know?” It was a statement and a question all in one.

[gallagherxnolan]

( nima abbasi​ )

“Sorry, the pictures are slightly out of order…” Nima leaned her small frame across the table just a little and hovered a finger over her phone screen that Nolan was currently examining. “Scroll to the second to last picture of him.” Waiting, her eyes turned up to his face for a quick second and flashed the bounty hunter a smile. “Okay, so, this was his last known alias… identity… whatever…” Waving her hand and rolling her eyes, Nima colorfully continued. “Finn Hawkins in Boise, Idaho. He was managing a hardware store.”

Once she settled back into her seat she sipped her drink and eyed him curiously. It was a bit of a formed habit when around the investigative types, trying to read their expressions and learn their ticks. Nima wasn’t huge into criminal cases but every now and again one came across her desk, and over time she’d picked up that detectives didn’t always readily share their thoughts and theories.

“This one has some fraud attached to it. Or, well, allegedly.” Nima knew she had to be careful about that. She wasn’t a cop and this wasn’t an official investigation. 

“The woman that contacted me,” pausing, the podcaster pulled a file folder from the seat next to her and set it on the table in between their hands, “had said she’d been dating him a while and she knew him as Charlie Hendricks.” Once more her eyes rolled. “Which is the first picture in those photos.” This case was pushing her to put on a Nancy Drew hate. “Anyway, he stole a book of blank checks and skipped town like eight months ago. She’s pretty embarrassed, but— this is all the information I’ve been able to gather thus far.” Nima pushed the folder closer to Nolan’s hands. 

“Is this something you’d be interested in taking on? Something you wanna help me out on?” Leaning forward a little she couldn’t restrain the hopeful look on her face. She needed someone as intelligent and savvy as Nolan.

➢ ➢ ➢

Following her instructions, he swiped to the second to last photo, noting the many obvious changes to the man’s appearance along with the few similarities that allowed someone to identify him as the same person. An individual who went through this much trouble to keep himself hidden—he could imagine the type of business he was involved with. And sooner or later, this man would get onto the radar of the cops. He was damn sure of it. Mentally noting the name and location down, he figured that would be the place for him to start. He would have to track him down little by little, figure out if anyone in that area knew where he was staying or where he could have gone. Nolan too quickly began to sketch out a plan in his head but he stopped in his tracks, deciding this could wait. Because first he needed to collect all the information she had.

His lip curved up only slightly when she mentioned fraud. Typical. “No one with this many aliases is clean.” He noted, figuring that he was probably running some con. Which was precisely what she divulged after. Though he hadn’t fully agreed to help yet, he knew that this was something that, were he to dig into, would likely be of interest to people both in the department and potentially in other jurisdictions as well. And this definitely seemed like it would be a much longer search—hopefully—which was precisely what he needed right now. So he nodded at her question. “Yeah, I’m free to help.” Though it was usually family members who skipped town that he helped her find, this was certainly of a different ilk and something that he worried less about. Family reunions and searches were far more emotional than finding fraudsters. “Did she tell you where he might have gone or any locations that he mentioned in conversation with her?” 

[gallagherxnolan]

( alice cheung​ )

There were differences between them. Sure. But they had ways of showing each other they cared and that often came with action. She’d stood in line and bent over paperwork with him for hours on end to ensure that he was set when he left prison. As for him, he bought her coffee and muffin before she got to the cafe, knowing she’d likely be hungry upon her arrival. Alice smiled at him and sat down, thanking the waitress who placed their order in front of him. “I knew you loved me,” she teased, tearing into the muffin now. He had a point. “To be fair, I don’t think I’m a hard book to read. I like food and I only come here for their muffins.” She said as she leaned back, making sure to look him over. No injuries… that she could see from where she sat. “Are you okay? Physically?” She hated that part of his job the most. Some of the nasty bruises she’d seen whenever his shirt lifted enough to show some of his skin. 

Alice had sat silently while her mother asked questions and made comments. Most had been laughed off and she did the best job she could to change the subject. At this point, she was certain her mother would open an add for any man who wanted to claim her daughter long enough to get her a few grand children. Funny to think that she was now itching to be a grandmother when the thought had caused her nightmares years before. “The language barrier has helped shield a few things. They only understand half of what you’re saying and they nod a lot.” For sure they would understand if he was involved in crime. Alice almost spat out her coffee when he mentioned the article. “She won’t be able to read it but that’s a good way to get you kicked from dinner. She may seem like a small and kind woman but she’s relentless when she’s pissed off. It’s your funeral. You’d have to read it to her, too.” Her head tilted and she shook her head. “No more paying for a mistake that happened in the past. That’s why they don’t know. No need for it.” 

➢ ➢ ➢

Nolan had always been the quietest in their house. While his brother and father exchanged words—potentially blows—he had been the invisible Gallagher. It was less about not being collateral damage or about not picking sides, after all his brother had been the only real parental figure in his life for a while. Rather he couldn’t be bothered to get involved when the two would constantly just fight over the smallest details. He internalized all their rage, channeling it with friends while he did dangerous activities. Though he knew it was wrong somehow the same indifference he had at home carried into the rest of his life and he was convinced he didn’t care what happened to him. Or maybe it was precisely because he felt nothing while at home that he sought adrenaline. From that silence and his general path in life, he was accustomed to observation. So he had catalogued her coffee, drink, food and other orders much like he did for others. Only difference was he actually bothered to order for her ahead of time while he didn’t for others. “I can’t argue with that. You’re pretty transparent,” he conceded, finding that Alice had been pretty open from the first time he met her. Maybe that was what allowed him to trust her so much. Feeling her eyes doing their usual scan, he nodded at her question. “Things have been slower anyways. But might be headed out of town in a few days.” Even if he were hurt, he knew better than to tell Alice. The same boy that sought adrenaline when he was younger grew into a man that chased danger just to get away from his demons.

He chuckled at her explanation, finding that dinners with her family were always very different from what he remembered dinners to look like. And beyond that, her parents were far more involved than his had ever been. He sometimes wondered—during sleepless nights—if his mother would have been the same way. If life had taken a different course, would his parents also be insisting he settle down? Would he have been an uncle rather than an orphan right about now? Those thoughts didn’t linger too long but as long as they did, he imagined that his family would have looked stable like hers if his mother had hung on longer. “I don’t doubt it. I’ve seen her work a knife and I know better than to risk getting on her bad side.” Her mother opened up to him the more times he was invited—and dragged—to dinner. He shrugged seeing as he was paying for a mistake that had never happened. Somewhere along the way he had just accepted the sentence and the consequences. “Anyways, how are you? How’s your work? Any trouble?”  

[gallagherxnolan]

( declan noor​ )

declan chuckled lowly, straightening up some folders as though it would miraculously tidy his desk up. but he’d get in trouble if any civilians knew confidential information, even if declan knew that nolan could be trusted. well, trusted as well as any mercenary could. in his line of work, declan had learned to not really trust anyone beyond a basic level. “it did but don’t worry, i won’t tell anyone you care—” he replied, matching nolan’s light sarcastic tone. resting his hands on the folders, he could sense that maybe nolan was here out of desperation. if he didn’t have a fuck ton of work piling up, declan would be going stir crazy so he was more than happy to help. 

“always,” he nodded to his friend, hands reaching for the files that he thought could assist. “i’ve got a dealer who paid bail then dipped. his hearing was two days ago.” declan quickly scanned over the file before handing it over to nolan. “they checked his house. phone and wallet were gone but didn’t look like he took anything much else with him when he fled. pinged his credit card at a gas station up north.” they hadn’t had much more time to investigate it, so passing it onto nolan was a good way to get some info, hopefully bring him back to trial. letting this asshole got out on bail was pure stupidity in declan’s mind. “i’ve got plenty more if you need it,” he motioned to the various files piled on his desk but he cocked his head slightly, observing his friend. “especially if you’re wanting to escape town.” it was statement but sounded like a question, a subtle way of asking if his friend was okay. 

➢ ➢ ➢

Nolan knew that work would come to him eventually. He didn’t have to go around advertising his services or proving he was worth something to people. But there was something about being on a case that provided a distraction for him. Otherwise, he didn’t really know what to do with his idle time. And when he didn’t know what to do, he would most likely pick up the case file from his father’s case and start trying to piece together what happened. That was a rabbit hole that he had been avoiding mostly out of fear of one, what he would find but two—and likely the worse outcome—not finding anything at all. “Appreciate the discretion,” he said with obvious amusement, noting just how overworked Declan seemed. And while others might have looked at that with concern, a part of Nolan was envious of the unending stream of work that flowed his friend’s way. It ensured that so long as he wanted work, he had it.

Nodding along to the details of the case, Nolan figured this was a rather routine matter for him. He had mostly dealt with dealers and criminals that skipped town, missing their hearing. It would be rough for him at the next one. Flipping through the pages perfunctorily, Nolan would later comb through it for all details and make his own evaluations. Accepting the file, he contemplated the offer. “I wouldn’t mind having a running queue.” After all, he didn’t want to keep coming around not knowing if there was another case waiting for him. “You know I’m always trying to get out of town. I have no attachments to this place.” Vancouver didn’t really have much for him and so long as he was away, so long as he was on another case, he felt freer than when he was back. Home never really felt that way.    

[gallagherxnolan]

( noor khalaf​ )

Noor had learned to mind her business and generally didn’t ask questions when she deemed them unwanted, but she was curious by nature. That curiosity combined with her innate desire to help and be of use meant she kept checking on Nolan even if something about the arrangement made her slightly uneasy. Still, she was not about to say no.

text to nolan gallagher: okay. sounds good. text to nolan gallagher: you can come over.

Noor placed her phone on the coffee table and went to fetch her stocked up first aid kit. She didn’t bother changing out of her pyjamas, deeming them perfectly suitable for such a visit. Besides, they were hardly all that different from her scrubs.

➢ ➢ ➢

Nolan almost sent a follow-up text to ensure that she really felt no pressure to help. Though he didn’t know Noor particularly well, he could say he knew her kind. After all, only specific types of people went into the healthcare profession—either those who chased prestige or those who felt compelled to help people. The fact that she continued to say yes made him think she fell in the latter category because helping a man with suspicious injuries in the middle of the night hardly screamed gold star. And right before he could tell her to forget it, he received an invitation over. With a sigh, phone in pocket, he pushed off the couch carefully. He decided this was a conversation that could be had face to face. After all, there was no point speculating from texts and response time what she was thinking. He had always been better at deciphering people based on their expressions than through a masked medium. Heading up to her apartment, taking the stairs which he found were quicker to arrive at her apartment, he knocked quietly, feeling no need to announce his presence. That too in the middle of the night.

[gallagherxnolan]

( everly de santis​ )

Everly chewed on the fleshy side of her cheek, the things she wished to say mulling through her mind clear one moment and dashed and lost the next. She couldn’t put her finger on why saying it felt so difficult. She’d told people about Eden before, had no issue with telling the whole sad tale even as her words slung over her heart and pulled the beating thing haphazardly into the pit of her stomach. She told them either way. The sadness was to be expected. She understood it as an innate and terrible feeling she had no control over and in accepting that Evie gave herself some semblance of control. This was different. She wasn’t just telling him about her sister. She was telling him about herself and asking for help on that. It made Everly feel far more vulnerable than she cared to be, and with a man who’d spent nights tangled with one, would think it would come easy. Yet, nudity and sex she was comfortable with, it was herself, her emotions, and the terrible tangledness of them all that made Evie feel like she was truly naked. Exhaling, she levels him with a green stare that holds more emotion than her words that follow do, “I had a sister, a twin.” Everly swallows and pulls out a photo from behind others tucked in her vanity. She extends it to him, her fingers holding on and not letting go. “Almost a year ago, she was found dead. The circumstances were very inconclusive.” Everly lets go of her grip, allowing him to take the photo if he wishes. “Her name was Eden.” Rubbing her lips together, Everly pulls down the hem of his shirt, pulling her knees up. “The investigation is a fucking joke.” She shakes her head, clearing the mist from her eyes. Her tone would never betray her, even when her face had. “I moved here to find answers hopefully, and that’s why I think you can help me.” She sat back, “I’ll understand if you don’t want to. I know that isn’t what we have, and that’s fine.” She gestures between them, her chest constricting at the thought of being shot down, “but I’m only getting so far through the proper channels, and I don’t think I’ll be able to rest until I know what happened to her.”

➢ ➢ ➢

In his line of work, Nolan was used to learning truths that most people would rather keep hidden. In fact it was precisely his job to dig up a lot of those skeletons that people preferred to keep buried. It also meant that he saw some of the worst that humanity had to offer. And maybe he went chasing after them precisely for that reason. He had been born into a family with a father who could barely keep himself sober long enough to feed his children and a brother whose anger had driven him out of the house and out of his life. To the world, he was nothing more than an ex-con. So maybe he chased the worst because according to society, birds of a feather flock together.  

Everly and him had never really gotten into personal details but he recognized that those who involved themselves with him often times had a rough past. After all, he did not give off a warm and fuzzy aura. If they were attracted to each other, it was precisely because they had recognized that the other was similarly detached. So, he wasn’t surprised when she struggled to answer his question, taking her time to mull over her words before answering. As she began to recite the details of her past, sharing more than he ever anticipated hearing, he pieced together precisely what she would be asking him. One way or another, she had discovered his line of work. His assistance was needed precisely because he could skirt procedure in the way a uniformed officer could not.

Standing up to take the picture from her when she seemed ready to give it to him, he was met with a nearly identical face. Features that were eerily similar that he could almost not tell them apart were it not for the fact that their eyes held such different emotions. His eyes shifted back towards Everly who, for the first time, seemed vulnerable to him. And her situation resonated with him. Wasn’t he in the same exact boat as she was, hoping to find answers and unable to really rest until he did? “What do you know so far? I’m going to need case files or details. I can’t make any promises about what I’ll find, but I’ll look into it.”

[gallagherxnolan]

( alice cheung​ )

Alice and Nolan were an odd pairing. Polar opposites when they were younger, it was almost incomprehensible how tightly knit they were now. If there was a rhyme or reason behind it, it was her nosy personality. She’d heard about his arrest and was starved for some sort of story when she decided to test her luck with a visit. His initial shock at her presence felt almost as jarring as her being inside of a penitentiary, or the intrusive search that she had to do every single time. One visit turned into multiple— and before she knew it, the article she hadn’t suspected writing came out and he was a free man. Though she’d teasingly told him he owed her his life, she knew that most of the credit deserved to be given to the officers and detectives who had taken her up when she’d dumped the jumbled mess of information she’d collected on their desks. 

Walking into the coffee shop, Alice looked around for the familiar man who always stood out in crowds. He was tall, often up against a wall, not quite used to civilization. Maybe it was easy for her to pick him out because she’d grown used to the patterns of jail upon the multiple visits and hours spent in there. Even more afterwards as she helped him collect him entire life and get habituated to a world that had moved on and grown while he was at a stand still inside of concrete boxes. She smiled and walked towards him, passing by her seat to give him a hug. Ever the affectionate being, she didn’t hold back with him. Her acts may have been intense a few years past but she liked to think he’d grown used to her by now. “You didn’t order me a coffee yet?” She shook her head at him, playfully pushing his shoulder. “I’m kind of hungry for something. Do you want to share a muffin?” She’d eat her own without trouble and the likelihood was if he wanted one, she’d buy him one as well. Removing her jacket, she sat in front of him and smiled. “Mom asked me if you were coming to dinner this week. But only after she asked me if you had asked me on a date yet. Apparently she’s afraid I’ll die single and miserable. Her words were, and I quote: ‘i expected you to be with a doctor, but a tall sales rep is good enough. you’ll have cute babies.’” She repeated with a laugh. “Just so you know what you’ll be walking into.”

➢ ➢ ➢

Despite knowing her for so long, the physical displays of affection were still foreign to him. They grew up very differently and they expressed appreciation and emotion very differently as well. Alice expressed, Nolan repressed. Which was why when she wrapped her hands around him in a hug, his was an awkward in reciprocation. One arm wrapped around her shoulders in a quasi-embrace but that was the best she would get from him. It was more than she ever did before, because in some ways, she had seen him go from the bitter, prickly ex-con to the somewhat mellowed bounty hunter he was today. “I did,” he assured as she took the seat across from him. At this point he knew her coffee order and figured she would come in and request to split a muffin. Which was why right on cue, both their mugs of coffee and her muffin appeared before them. “I haven’t made a profession of studying people without picking up a thing or two.”

As she began recounting her mother’s nagging, he was reminded of the last dinner he had gone to. He had spared Alice some of the details of his conversation with her mother if only to avoid any further embarrassment. No one could claim Nolan wasn’t a considerate man. But the elderly woman had certainly made less than subtle indications that she would be accepting of him as a partner for her daughter, were he to decide to pursue her. Decide was also putting it gently. She was definitely trying her best to coerce him into doing just that. “It’s a wonder to me how you’ve managed to shield them from the truth for so long.” After all, keeping his past a secret wasn’t hard but when their daughter had written about it so extensively, he figured they would have realized by now. “Maybe this time for dinner, I’ll bring them the first article you wrote. Turn a Cheung dinner into a typical Gallagher one.” After all, where the Cheung dinners were cordial and friendly, the Gallagher ones always ended up as shouting matches.  

[gallagherxnolan]

( cooper hawkins )

What: closed starter for @gallagherxnolan​

 Where: The Bullpen at Vancouver Police Department, Monday, March 14th, 2022 sometime night

 Cooper had been going frantic. He had it. His journal. The one thing that kept Annie alive. The one thing that kept Cooper from keeping her memory alive. The journal. A journal. This one specifically though, he had talked to her a lot more than normal lately. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was in a new city or if it was because he was really missing her. Of course Cooper missed his sister. There were moments in time and in his life where if he would trade places with Annie, then he would. She didn’t deserve to pass so young but it was accident and accidents happen. Though it was engraved into his head that it wasn’t an accident and that it was somehow his fault. That’s what was in the journal. His conversations with his deceased sister and his thoughts, those dark thoughts that just played in the back of his mind. Taking a deep breath, Cooper ran his hands through his hair and yelled out for a moment in the bull pen “Has anyone seen a black journal? I have some notes in it for the case and i need them.” Cooper lied, of course he lied. He was a liar, and a damn good one at that. “Shit.” Cooper yelled through his teeth and then slammed the drawer to his desk closed shut making a loud noise. 

 He needed that journal. Cooper needed all that information, it was his and for his eyes only. This is what happened when he carried it around in public though. Normally Cooper didn’t, well he did but only when Cooper was at a diner grabbing coffee and some food. Never did he have it at work and the man took a deep breath again. “Come on. I fucking need that journal!” Cooper said out loud but it sounded more like a plead, a beg and a cry. He was on the verge of tears. That was the only thing that kept Annie alive in his mind. The only thing that didn’t block her out from his memory. “An—” Cooper almost said her name, and felt like he couldn’t breathe. it was like he had almost lost the color of his skin and turned pale as a ghost. Cooper really needed that journal. Then Cooper looked up at Nolan Gallagher. The Private Investigator that Cooper always had a problem with.  He wasn’t sure why, but him and Nolan just didn’t get along and this gave Cooper another reason not to trust the guy. “Give that back. Please. Don’t fucking touch my stuff.” The people on his squad knew how Cooper was. He wasn’t here to make friends, that’s what almost broke him the last time. Making friends and falling in love. Cooper took a deep breath and looked at the other male “How the hell did you get this?” He asked with a bitey tone and rightfully so. Cooper licked his lips “Don’t fucking touch my stuff.”

➢ ➢ ➢

It had been too long since he had been called in which was why when Nolan was told that there was a case that would send him out of town for some time, he was ready to heed the call at even the wee hours of the night. It was an exaggeration of course but by the time he was doing with the briefing of the details, it was already late enough. It seemed like one of the old cases he got, the ones that would give him a bit of a chase. The types that would give him a bit of a rush, enough to keep him out of town and away from the pestering voice telling him he was becoming irrelevant in his head. The one that said that unless he truly exonerated himself ( despite having served his time ), he would eventually be disposed of. Detective Sommers could only keep so many Chiefs on his side. He was told he would be able to find the box of items in one of the interrogation rooms. Inside, he found a box and a few other items strewn around the table. Going through the various pieces of evidence, careful not to misplace anything, he sat down to take the notes he would need. Between the meeting and his own preliminary due diligence, he realized it was already getting late and he would likely be back the day after before starting his own search.

Returning each item back to the box, he noticed a bound notebook at the side of the box. Figuring it was another piece of evidence, Nolan flipped through the pages, landing on a random one. Words scribbled across the pages spoke of mistakes. They were apologies. They were confessions of guilt. Annie appeared time and time again, confusing the bounty hunter. Who was Annie? Hearing shouting outside, Nolan tore his eyes away from the pages and popped outside into the bullpen to find Cooper frantically searching for something. It wasn’t precisely clear in his memory why the two of them hadn’t gotten along. He had transferred to the department and though Nolan didn’t necessarily make a point of being friendly with each detective there, he did try his best to speak to whomever was there. Yet their conversations always seemed to devolve into snide remarks and underhanded insults. Which was why he was in no mood to deal with the man that night. Deciding to take the journal home to study further, Nolan tried his best to avoid him. And yet the exact opposite happened. Rather, the journal in his hand was taken, apparently not a piece of evidence for his case but the personal possession of the homicide detective. The references to Annie, the desires to have been in her place, they were all his. Nolan had not read enough to know the full context but he easily released the journal back to its true owner. “It in the interrogation room.” He stated matter-of-factly, sensing an accusation in the other’s voice, as though Nolan had gone looking for the journal. He provided no additional justification because he be caught dead before explaining himself to Cooper. “Be more careful with your stuff Hawkins. Rather than going around throwing tantrums.”

[gallagherxnolan]

With: @freyadelagardie​ At: City Brew Pub, Thursday 9 PM

It was rare for Nolan to work for those who were in such a different social class from him. It was like a world he wouldn’t understand and something about his principles gave him pause when he couldn’t determine guilt and innocence. He had gotten into this business because he knew there were kingpins, pawning off their lower ranks while staying in power. He had figured out how to sift through lies to figure out who he could live with helping. Though the PD put him away, he still stuck with them because he did his own investigations. He never believed what he was told, only believing what he proved to himself. He had been put in touch with this family while he was out for a few months, tracking down not a violent criminal, but white collar crime. It was different from what he had done but it put him in a whole different world of people.  

Walking into the bar, he could have sworn he had seen her there. He recognized her the night before when he was trying to apprehend a regular. At first he hadn’t trusted his own recollection ( though Nolan rarely forgot a face ). Only after going home, searching through old files, did he confirm that the woman who had constantly given him the slip without realizing it had been under his nose the whole time. And so there he was, going into the bar that night rather than camping out in front of it. Taking a seat, he watched her interact with the other patrons, chattering away freely. Freya De La Gardie. 

[gallagherxnolan]

( noor khalaf )

Sat on her rather uncomfortable sofa, Noor stared at the text for a moment as if trying to decide how to reply. Sure, she knew how it would go, knew she would give in and treat whatever cut or injury Nolan had managed to acquire while pretending she didn’t even care to know what he had done. Did she care? No, not really, but she was curious. 

text  ⟶ nolan gallagher: yes. why? 

She could have said no and spend her evening doing nothing in particular, but that just didn’t sound all that appealing. Besides, she did want to help and couldn’t very well imagine telling him off or just ignoring the text message. 

text  ⟶ nolan gallagher: is it bad?

➢ ➢ ➢

The response didn’t come right away and he figured maybe she was sleeping. He wouldn’t bother again because while Nolan figured he could deal with it on his own, he threw a shot that maybe Noor was around. He wasn’t all that used to relying on others anyways, so…as he was pushing off the couch, getting ready to find himself some sort of old t-shirt or something, his phone lit up. He didn’t need to answer the why because she knew precisely the reason he was reaching out. Her follow up message made that abundantly clear. At times he felt he was imposing, taking advantage of the kindness she had extended a couple times in the past. But beggars couldn’t be choosers.

[ text ⟶ noor khalaf ] : relative to other times, not so much. just need some bandaging up. few minor cuts.

He didn’t bother telling her the full details of the night, figuring that eventually she would get sick of being a caretaker for a man who kept coming back beat up.  

[ text ⟶ noor khalaf ] : should I come to you? are you free? [ text ⟶ noor khalaf ] : you can say no. i know it’s late. 

He sent the last text a few times, ensuring that she was under no obligation to help him. And he insisted that when he said it, it wasn’t a mere formality. If she said no, Nolan was not the man to hold it against her. 

[gallagherxnolan]

( angelia paredes​ )

Who was she kidding with these self defense lessons? For the most part Angelia lived a fairly mundane life. Most of her days were spent in the recording studio on a new project or she was at her computer working on the latest illustration. When she went out it was generally with a friend or two doing activities that were generally considered safe.

But that day twenty years ago her father was doing something mundane. He was just doing his job.

It was something she never fully reconciled and dealt with, the trauma of losing her beloved father and the tragedy of the moment— him trying to step in and do the right thing and then paying for it with his life due to some petty disagreement. 

Since Angelia had learned of Nolan’s classes she attended. It was more of a subconscious driving force than a decision she thought through thoroughly. Same when she approached the male after a class and asked for private, one on one lessons. Angelia had specific questions, things Nolan wasn’t likely to touch on in any of his classes, and frankly— she didn’t want to raise an eyebrow with her particular requests. 

“Well don’t let me stop you,” she greeted, having breezed through the gym and past all the machines she’d never use to find the tall male stretching and warming up. “It’s not that I expect a little bow and hear how pleased you are to see me,” Angelia teased, smiling. 

What she really had been chomping at the bit to ask Nolan was how to defend against a knife attack, and the problem had been that he’d asked her to meet at the gym and this didn’t seem the most appropriate location for that.

“Should I be doing something to warm up like you or do we just jump right into it?” Angelia set one of the two things she’d brought in with her down. With the water bottle freeing her hands, she left the small towel continue to hang on her shoulder. “‘Cause I was wondering if you could show me what to do in the event of being caught in the middle of a fight— like say you’re trying to separate two people…”

➢ ➢ ➢

Nolan’s attention turned to Angelia when her voice announced her presence before her steps did. Turning around, he quirked a brow in amusement at her joking, not following her words and stopping. “I could say the same,” he offered back, seeing as it had been a few weeks since they last trained together. Steading the bag that he had been using to let off some steam, he figured that they would just go ahead and get started. After all, he wasn’t really sure what requests she had for him or what reasons she had for seeking out the one on one lessons. But whatever they were, Nolan figured he’d have seen them in his line of work. Some of his experience was training, some was just learning on the job.

“We can jump right into it. It’s not like you’ll have time to stretch before an attack.” He listened closely to her request, figuring that in that situation it was less so about self defense and more so about conflict resolution. “Well, the first suggestion would be to get yourself far away from that situation. Usually it’s better to not get caught up in the middle of a fight.” Nolan began, throwing in a few more factors to consider. “Also depends on if you’re dealing with bar brawls or just aggression and rage.” The presence of alcohol sometimes determined whether physical distance or just rational interruption would suffice. Nonetheless, seeing as she was here to learn physical defense, not mediation, Nolan ran through a list of possible ways to disarm one of the parties.

“Stand here,” he pointed, taking a stance in front of her. “If you’re standing in front of me, what would your instinct be?”

[gallagherxnolan]

( defne zorlu​ )

closed starter for @gallagherxnolan​

her office at affinity night club

Effy knew how easily her club could turn into a front - for anything and everything illegal. The brunette woman wasn’t naive to the fact that certain activities already happened under her roof. While the money of the dark side felt tempting, shady business wasn’t who she was. The security at the club performed top tier, but on specific occasions, ones that required a bit of informal intimidation, Effy called Nolan. Men in the business world of nightlife participated in the type of business she tried to keep her toes out of. A show of force allowed her to keep a grip, not seem like some malleable little girl in over her head. Nolan served as her bite, when she could only ever be bark. Any of the other security from her club would have sufficed, but with Nolan she trusted him with all of her secrets. The integrity of her club and business came before anything else. 

“Thanks, again, for coming.” She sipped a glass of dark liquid with a cube of ice clinking around. Effy asked him to come while she held a meeting. She’d call them investors, but it would be a lie. Offers like these came around often, let them sell their drugs at her club and she received some of the profit. Keeping her hands clean grew harder by the day. Either way, she never really put Nolan in any danger. He acted more as a bluff than anything. “I know what you’re going to say, but you should come work here.” His actual profession worried her. Effy knew she could pay him more than anything he could make, and he’d be safe here. There was a time in her life she felt convinced she loved him. Whether it was the reality that even if she did, they’d never work or she was just too young to know better, it didn’t matter. He now was one of her closest friends. She hated being able to notice which bruises on his knuckles were new and which were old. Effy leaned against her desk. “How have you been?” Her head tilted. 

➢ ➢ ➢

If ever asked, Nolan would maintain that he was a constant presence in everyone’s lives. His father had been a deadbeat for most of his conscious existence. His brother had been his one saving grace and though he asked Nolan to go with him, the choice was more an ultimatum. It was a him or me. And though the younger Gallagher had no affinity or empathy for their father, something had kept him stuck. And so his brother left, leaving him with a father who didn’t care whether he lived or died. Gregory Gallagher never was one to stick to his promises, so it was no surprise that he died, leaving Nolan to face the world without a soul. But he would never be the one to leave a person. The same was true in all his relationships. It was why despite having not seeing Effy for years, when she opened her club and asked him to help her out, he seemed to always show up. Because their end wasn’t acrimonious, it was just inevitable. Sitting beside her at the club, waiting for whoever it was she was going to speak with to come, his demeanor was stiff and imposing. Just as the part called for.

Her routine request that he should work for her no longer fazed him. It had been a conversation they had rehearsed before. Ironically, he hadn’t changed all that much since the time she knew him. He had always been the type to do jobs that she wouldn’t have liked. But he couldn’t help but feel that now, she was closer to his world. Like the distance that had separated their behaviors back in high school closed just a little. “I hate staying in one place.” He repeated, justifying why he wouldn’t be taking her up on her offer. “I like being able to get away from here.” It was the only thing that kept him sane. The adrenaline of a hunt, the exhaustion of stakeouts, they were what kept him going. “Same as always. Things have been a little slow but they’ll eventually pick back up.” His eyes shifted from the door to her, returning the question. “And you? Should I be expecting any trouble tonight?”

[gallagherxnolan]

( nima abbasi​ )

─── starter for @gallagherxnolan​

MAMIE’S BBQ, MOUNT PLEASANT — “Hey, thanks for meeting with me,” Nima said as Nolan slipped into booth opposite her. Knowing that his work took him all over the place and he was in and out of Van, she’d text him days ago to make sure the bounty hunter was in town but to also set up this little meet. Of course with the promise of her buying some lunch for the pair of them. If there was anyone in Vancouver that had mad skills at tracking people gone AWOL, it was this handsome fella sitting across from her. Nima pushed his drink, the one she’d preemptively ordered having remembered his go-to in previous meetups, closer to him— it was her way of telling him to settle in, this was going to take a while. And was likely a doozy at that. “I’ve got something to show you,” she said, making an amused face and pulling her phone from the front pocket of her hoodie, “if you’ve a minute to help me out with this one, it might be a big pain in the ass for you. Or, if you like a challenge…” Without further ado Nima passed her phone across the table and on the screen was a collage of seven different photos of the same guy with a different look. “As far as I’ve been able to dig in so far, this fella’s got five different aliases…”

➢ ➢ ➢

Initially, Nolan had only offered his services to the department and specifically to Detective Sommers. He was the only one that trusted him for one, but also the only that Nolan actually wanted to work for. As others began to recognize his talent—after his recklessness and temper lessened—he began to branch out and take on the cases that other detectives had for him as well. Little by little, Nolan’s work grew. He never really thought about venturing into private work until he started receiving a few requests to help track down relatives or people who ran away with money. And somehow that turned into him advertising his services generally. His priority was still cases he got through the PD but every so often, he supplemented his usual load with private matters. In this, Nima always gave him the most work, both quantitatively and qualitatively. The cases were far more interesting than just murderers and drug rings. Giving a slight smile of appreciation at the drink, Nolan reached for the cup of coffee as she detailed the person she wanted him to find. “I could do with a challenge right now,” he noted, taking the phone from her. He looked through the pictures of a man whose features were well disguised, each almost looking like a different person. There were only a few giveaways—the bend of his nose, the slight unevenness of his mouth—that gave him away. “And what else do you know? Any names for these aliases or last known locations?”

[gallagherxnolan]

With: @angeliaparedes​ At: Local gym

Maybe someone else would consider it a side hustle, but for Nolan it really was a way to pass the time. And to share the skills he figured were important for people to have generally. He learned everything that he knew just out of necessity and unfortunately, most people who sought out lessons did the very same thing. Whether they were scared of something general, recognizing that the world was a terrifying place, or they had more particular reasons to be cautious, those who sought him out did so with a purpose. One that Nolan never really bothered asking. Like with everything else he did, Nolan just provided a service. He never asked questions that he didn’t need answers to.

Lessons with Angelia were sporadic. Yet she was probably the only one who stuck around long enough with him to be considered a regular. Everyone else seemed to be satisfied when they learned a couple of basic maneuvers. After covering the basics with her, he gave her the option to either end their sessions or to take more one-on-one training for any particular defense moves she wanted to know. And she had decided to take him up on that offer. Which was precisely what brought him to the gym that day, ready to teach whatever it was that she wanted to learn this time around. Greeting the few familiar faces there, he warmed up while waiting for her. 

[gallagherxnolan]

( ezra harlow​ )

Jenkins. Price. Khumalo. Stratford. Crain. Take a left. Stirling. Castillo. Schwarz. The entire Carrow family. And the path went on.

She had once known the rows of names by heart. Every single one was a path marker to her least favorite yet most visited piece of stone the city had to offer. Only that as time went on, more names were added to the list and now her little game of memory made no sense anymore. The evergreen they had planted a few summers back now ambushed some graves and ate up the old bench, which was more moss than wood, entirely. And yet she could’ve found Benson with her eyes closed. Some things never change.

As always she dusted off the grave marker, mumbled about her day, and picked off the dead petals of the flowers their mother left there. Every Sunday, a fresh bouquet of Dahlias. Just like the one Benson used to buy for mother’s day. And then comfortable silence. For all that has changed, he was still a great listener. When she left Vancouver, it was like a healing process. Living here, she could hardly go through a couple of days without going to the graveyard. It felt like a compulsion - one she fled from the moment she left Canada. Now that she was back and planning to stick around, it felt more like a privilege to come here and much less like the need of a broken heart.

Saying her goodbye, Ezra was headed for the exit, the same way out as before. Turning to take one final glance at her brother’s resting place over her shoulder, she didn’t see him coming. And then there was impact.

“I’m sorry.” She turned in passing, both her hands still awkwardly hovering in front of her as she balanced herself out. It only took a few steps backward and the friendly, apologetic smile didn’t survive, quickly replaced by recognition and a quick rush of adrenaline through her body.

All it took was a second to recognize one Nolan Gallagher but even that felt too long. Not after all this time he had spent spinning through her thoughts, always leaving a bitter taste in her mouth. This was it. The last time they had spoken was right beneath their feet. So much has changed and so little did. And if she didn’t know better, she’d think neither of them have ever left this place. Taking another step back, her arms dropped to her side.

“Sorry.” She repeated almost inaudibly and without realizing. With her gaze dropping, her frame shot forward but she only got two steps away before stopping again and looking back at Nolan.

“I don’t   — hey.”

➢ ➢ ➢

Nothing good ever came of him visiting this place. The first time he came, very soon after he had been released, a couple who had been coming to visit their son had recognized him. After all, his picture had been all over the papers and their neighborhood was a small one. There were few who didn’t know of this case, if only because of the dramatics of it all. The trial had been quick and painless ( for the prosecutors at least ) and public opinion had been with the state. Seeing him at his father’s grave, they looked at him as though he were sadistic. After all, in their mind the murderous son had come to see his victim, not even letting him rest in peace.

The few other times he had visited, it never felt like he got the closure he sought. If that was even why he came. Maybe he wished that he could just find answers. That perhaps his father’s murderer would one day come back to the scene of the crime and just put Nolan out of his misery. The possible justifications were endless and likely all lies. But he had others to see in this graveyard and the sheer guilt had always made Nolan walk around that tombstone. If he could face it was father it was because his conscience was clear. It was precisely for that reason that he couldn’t bring himself to face Benson. Because despite what that old couple had thought of him, he was not so brazen as to visit the resting site of a person whose death he had a hand in.

Eyes flashed up and immediately recognized the familiarity of the person before him. The years had changed her some, but not so much that he wouldn’t immediately place her. Not enough that her accusations stopped ringing in his ears the moment he laid eyes on her. Pressing his lips together, he remained silent because what did he have to say to her after all these years? So when she turned to leave, he had no reason to stop her ( no right either ). They were not long lost friends for him to embrace her and catch up. Last he remembered, she resented him. Which was precisely why her greeting came as a surprise.

“Hey,” he offered back, voice truly emotionless.