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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Case Closed (Part 2/2) - Shalaska - pureCAMP

A/N - Part two! This is a monster of a fic and I hope it provides some joy! And terror and emotions.

One evening, Alaska found Sharon stood waiting at her desk, a guilty expression plastered across her face. Out of the corner of her eye, Alaska saw Jinkx frantically throwing a thumbs up in her direction, but she quickly ignored her friend’s overexcited encouragement and smiled.

“Hey, Needles. You okay?”

Sharon nodded, then shook her head. “Look, I’m a total asshole, but… I know you get off work early tonight, and I’m in for a long one,” She began, her tone apologetic. “I don’t want to take up too much of your time, but it’s my mom’s birthday tomorrow and I don’t have time to get her anything and I completely forgot to go yesterday. I know what I want to get her, but would you mind picking it up for me and dropping it off at my place when I get home? You’d be doing me a huge favour.”

She trusts me, Alaska’s mind supplied. Another part of it replied shut up.

“Of course! I know the feeling. I love my mom.” Alaska grinned. “Can’t believe you forgot to get her a present. How old is she turning?”

The guilt on Sharon’s face increased. “Sixty.”

“Sixty?! It’s a big birthday and you forgot? Hey, everyone, Needles hates her mom!”

“I do not!” Sharon defended herself, and then laughed. She grabbed Alaska’s hand and squeezed it, and Alaska tried not to overthink the action at all. “You’re a lifesaver, Lask, thank you so much. Here’s the money, here’s what I want to get her. You’re amazing.”

“I know.”

It wasn’t long until Alaska was off, and as she left the precinct, she waved at Sharon to show her she’d remembered, and then made her way to the superstore. Her evening plans had been pretty relaxed anyway, mostly consisting of binging the rest of her DVR and eating cheap popcorn in bed, so she didn’t mind the extra chore too much.

Besides… it was Sharon. Embarrassing, but little else needed to be said.

Alaska was mindlessly musing on her sudden appreciation for Sharon as she perused the shelves, locating the perfume she’d asked for with ease (the scent wasn’t much to her taste, but given it was for a sixty year old woman, she shrugged it off). Jinkx had hinted that maybe Sharon liked her too, but then provided no evidence whatsoever and, as a detective, Alaska thrived on evidence.

Maybe she should make a case file about it and decipher it like she would for a crime. No… that was dumb. Sharon had her seven shades of confused, that was for sure.

She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost didn’t notice the man in a crude balaclava stalking past, a couple of aisles away. Thankfully, he didn’t see her, but as soon as her eyes registered it, she was fully alert. The man was pushing a shopper along with him, who followed his orders in abject terror. Alaska’s heart sank.

This had to be a robbery at best, or possibly even a hostage situation at worst. This was bad. Alaska was unarmed, and she had seen the glint of the gun pressing into the civilian’s back from the man herding her away. As she ran, she realised this was definitely not a solo operation, and things could get ugly fast.

Without a gun, Alaska knew she needed to hide. She stuffed the perfume into her back and crept along the aisles, furtively checking for any movement before she progressed. As soon as she was safe, she could call for help, but in the meantime, she needed to stay alive if she was to help any of these civilians. The squad needed to know about this. Sharon… Sharon needed to know about this.

The furniture display was mercifully empty. Alaska knew she had to think fast, and quickly decided the wardrobe was her best bet. At least she knew there was nobody nearby, and she could hide in there if only for a moment whilst she contacted her friends for backup. This was bad.

Alaska [to Sharon Needles]: Bring squad + backup to superstore asap, armed robbers

Alaska [to Sharon Needles]: Civilians taken hostage. Hiding in wardrobe, don’t have a gun

Alaska [to Sharon Needles]: Several guys, all in balaclavas. Counted six, could be more

Alaska [to Sharon Needles]: Plz be careful and be quick.

Sharon [to Alaska Thunder]: Mobilising now. On our way.

There was a sound of footsteps squeaking on the linoleum. Someone had walked into the furniture department.

Alaska [to Sharon Needles]: I hear footsteps. My hiding place might be found

Alaska [to Sharon Needles]: Not sure how this will play out. Just in case I don’t get a chance to say it, I really care about you. You mean the world to me.

Sharon [to Alaska Thunder]: Seven minutes away.

Alaska [to Sharon Needles]: You’re amazing inside and out.

Sharon [to Alaska Thunder]: It won’t end like this.

The wardrobe door flung open. Alaska stashed her phone and held her breath as a pair of steel grey eyes met her, along with the barrel of a gun.

“Move. Now.”

In any other situation, Alaska might’ve resisted. She’d done this before, following orders before surprising them with a quick escape and pulling a gun of her own, given that most robbers didn’t want to die as much as they just wanted to have control over their hostages. If only she had a fucking gun with her. She was an idiot. If she didn’t play this right, she and a bunch of civilians would die.

She did everything in her power to stay calm as she was directed by one of the robbers into a small, lockable room, probably used by the staff. There were about thirteen others, their hands bound in zip ties and their eyes wide and frightened. Alaska was forcibly pushed in with them, tied the same way, and shoved to the floor.

The guard stood watch over them was tall and intimidating, his face also covered and the pistol at his side doing nothing to alleviate the terror that Alaska and the others felt. She had faith in her friends, of course, but she knew that one wrong move could cost a life. Again, if she had a gun, he would be easy to take down. Alaska had tackled guys twice his size many times in her career, but the sheer helplessness that she felt only worsened her fear.

One of the hostages, clearly the most fearful, had been gagged as well as tied up. He was writhing frantically, desperate to scream even through the gag. Without a second thought, the guard raised his pistol and fired it into the hostage’s foot. As he shrieked in agony, the rest of the room screamed.

Alaska took a moment to accept that this really could be it. At least, for now, she could hopefully bring some comfort to the civilians. After the gunshot, an alert on the guard’s earpiece caused him to leave the room from some privacy. This looked like it was going to be Alaska’s only chance, so she seized it.

“Everybody listen. I’m a detective, my squad are only a minute or two away. Everything is about to be under control, please stay calm and do what they say for the time being. Is anyone able to take off his gag?”

In times of crisis, Alaska knew she had to use her training and control the room. A woman beside the wounded man, who was sobbing from the pain, leant in as close as she could, and with some difficulty from her bound hands, managed to pull the gag out of his mouth. He looked as if he was about to scream again, but at Alaska’s kind but firm gaze, he just whimpered.

“Good.” Alaska surveyed her surroundings. “I’m positive there will be an ambulance when we get out of here, too. We’re in this together.”

A woman of about forty shook her head, her eyes filling with tears. “We’re all going to die in here. They’ll shoot us all like they shot him.”

Alaska did her best to look away, but still found herself drawn to the pile of blood pooling around the man’s foot at which the woman had pointed. She longed to provide more comfort, to reassure them that nobody was going to die and everything was going to be alright, but she knew she couldn’t. Those kind of promises couldn’t be guaranteed, and all of her training for years had advised against them.

“Please stay calm and wait for the reinforcements, okay? That’s all we can do.”

The guard returned, his eyes blazing. His gaze immediately fell on the injured hostage, who without the gag was crying and hyperventilating from the trauma.

“Who removed the gag? Who?!”

No one spoke. Everyone seemed to know that this was not the time for heroism.

“I did.” Alaska’s heart was racing. “Let us go and your charge won’t be as harsh. You’re facing life imprisonment for this. These people are innocent.”

The masked guard shrugged, levelling his pistol at Alaska’s chest. “May as well serve life for murder then.”

Alaska closed her eyes and held her breath. At the very least, she would die in service.

“Freeze! NYPD, you’re under arrest.”

By the time Alaska’s eyes had opened, Latrice already had their guard with his arms pinned behind him, offering a tense smile in Alaska’s direction. Detective Michaels was busy at work freeing and escorting the hostages out, her gaze filled with relief as she freed Alaska and called in the paramedics.

“The rest of the squad are outside. They’ll be beside themselves to see you.”

There was no time to waste. The overwhelming chaos of a taped-off crime scene was practically joyous in comparison to the bleak terror of the little locked room, and Alaska just stood and tried to catch her breath as she took in the flashing red and blue lights, the officers bustling around, the ambulances and police cars pulled up around her. It was hauntingly familiar, yet eerie to have been part of the ordeal, not part of the rescue mission.

Jinkx was in a huddle of panicked family members, always the best at offering support and comfort whilst the victim’s statements were being taken by Sasha and Shea. Latrice appeared a few moments later with her perp cuffed, followed by Detective Michaels - who Alaska had never quite felt comfortable calling Chad, despite her unthreatening nature, and was beginning to realize in the midst of it all that such trivial things like names didn’t matter. Three more guys were already cuffed and in police cars.

Just a few feet behind her, Sharon was wrestling another masked criminal into a car. When she finally succeeded and looked up, her expression was one Alaska never wanted to forget. If the sun dawning on a new day could be an emotion, it was written all over Sharon’s face and Alaska wanted to live in it.

“Are you okay? Holy shit, I was so afraid for you. Please tell me you’re okay.”

Alaska knew she needed to respond but she couldn’t; she needed to take in every detail of Sharon’s face and appreciate every inch of her because the moment it had hit that she might not see tomorrow, her mind had taken her straight to the woman stood before her, her brow creased and her eyes sparkling, terrified, her chest heaving. She had texted Sharon because she needed police backup, and she had texted Sharon because the first person that sprang to her mind in a life or death situation was her.

“I’m fine. They didn’t hurt me.”

Sharon’s eyes were startlingly blue. “Thank god. I was so worried, I couldn’t believe it. This was all my fault, I put you in this horrible situation all because I stupidly forgot to get a stupid gift for my mom. You could’ve died all because I sent you here, wrong place and wrong time.”

Inexplicably, Alaska felt calm. Nothing else in the world existed except for the two of them, having a conversation. There were no sirens or flashing lights, no imminent trauma or fear from a hostage situation. Perhaps it was the shock settling in, numbing her to her surroundings, but somehow, she mustered a reassuring smile.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. It wasn’t your fault. And here,” She handed over the bag, the perfume miraculously still inside. At the sight of it, Sharon’s eyes filled with guilty tears. “I put your change in with the gift and receipt.”

Sharon was speechless for a moment, wordlessly taking the bag and doing her best to swallow back her tears. They were stood inches apart, both still trembling from the ordeal, and Alaska’s heart almost broke at the uncharacteristic wobble of Sharon’s lip.

“You’re so…” She trailed off, her voice thick. “I’ll never be able to forgive myself for doing this to you, I’m so grateful you did my stupid errand but more than that I’m so happy you’re alive. I kept torturing myself the whole time, what if you didn’t make it and the last time I spoke to you face to face, I asked you to do something for me that didn’t even matter? I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to this, and I-”

Alaska’s smile was soft, gentle. “Sharon.”

“-I felt so awful. I just-”

She needed to shut up, Sharon needed to shut up and Alaska couldn’t think of any other way to shut her up so she chose the only logical option, wrapping her arms around Sharon’s shoulders and kissing her until she fell quiet. It took hardly a second for Sharon’s lips to respond, deepening the kiss as she held Alaska’s face against her own and melted into her embrace. It said everything that she had been trying to - that she was afraid, that she cared, that after everything that had happened, the thought of wasting a moment more of any precious time they had with each other seemed in itself to be a felony. Sharon was cold but her lips were warm, her body felt like home despite how much it shook. Nowhere in the world was safer than this.

When they pulled away, Alaska longed to pull her back into another embrace, but she resisted. Sharon’s cheeks were furiously red and her mouth hung open slightly, as though she couldn’t believe what had just happened. Alaska understood exactly how she felt.

“I’m so glad you’re alive,” Sharon’s voice was a whisper, almost swept away in the chaos of the scene, but to Alaska’s ears it was the only sound in the universe.

Alaska reached for Sharon’s hands. “I couldn’t have died without letting you know how I feel.”

Sharon giggled. “Did we actually just kiss?”

“Yeah.”

“In the middle of a crime scene?”

“I think so.”

“And… did all of our squad witness it?”

Alaska turned. Jinkx, from her short distance away, was beaming from ear to ear, and Shea and Latrice were watching as though they were in the midst of a rom-com, not an actual crime scene. At least it wasn’t the whole squad, she reasoned. Willam would be all over the gossip.

“Most of them.” She laughed. “This doesn’t have to be anything, Sharon, I just… You were talking so much. It was the only way to get you to be quiet.”

“Alright, let’s go back to the precinct.” Sharon replied, her voice soft. “Looks like we’re all in for the long haul tonight.”

The grin on Alaska’s face stayed there all night.

There weren’t really any texts exchanged between Alaska and Sharon over the gratuitous weekend that Alaska was given off work to cope with the stress of the robbery. In that time, she chalked up their kiss to a rush of adrenaline from the chaos of the event, and contemplated changing her number so that her embarrassing texts would never haunt her again.

Thankfully, everything seemed business as usual when she came back into work. She was immediately summoned along with the others into the briefing room, where her usual greeting from Sharon of a nod and a smile was no different to any other day.

Still, Alaska averted her eyes when Sharon stood in front of the room to lay out her case.

“Okay, this one is pretty massive. I’m talking fraud, I’m talking identity theft, I’m talking hundreds of thousands of people affected by this. Anthony Bennecci is one of our most prolific identity thieves and I just got word from one of my sources that he’s planning on selling the government laptop he stole tonight. We could potentially arrest both the buyer and the seller if we play this right.”

Tidicue nodded thoughtfully. “Alright. I want Needles, Thunder, Royale and Monsoon on it. Sergeant, make sure there’s no shenanigans on this mission. I trust you and only you with a task of this importance.”

Latrice laughed uproariously as the rest of the officers left the room, settling into their duties. Alaska frowned at her, confused.

“What the hell was that about?”

Before Latrice could even answer, the unmistakable sound of Willam cut in. “I believe our Captain is referring to your little horndog makeout session from the other night that absolutely everybody knows about.”

Fucking Willam. It would be a mistake to underestimate the squad’s receptionist given her detective-like ability to uncover gossip and secrets from events that definitely had no way of being present at. Whoever her sources were, they were good.

That being said, Alaska had extra reason to mentally curse Willam out over her blasé mentioning of the incident. The two were old school friends, practically raised together, and if there was anyone who could read Alaska like a book and identify the signs of a crush without needing any verbal confirmation, it would be Willam. So Alaska knew damn well that Willam could tell she liked Sharon and could tell that she wanted to forget the entire kiss had ever happened because it obviously didn’t mean anything - and she could tell that Willam had brought it up purely to rattle her.

Willam could be a little sadistic sometimes. Alaska loved her, but she was terrifying.

“Fucking hell, Willy, I swear I saw you at your desk two minutes ago.” Sharon swore, and then frowned. “Anyway, we kissed once for like, half a second because we were both happy she wasn’t dead. You’re overreaching a little.”

And you’re underreaching, Alaska thought, trying to ignore how her heart sunk at Sharon’s words and instead nodding in faux-agreement. Maybe the kiss meant nothing to Sharon, but that didn’t mean it was some peck on the lips, over in the blink of an eye.

Whatever. It didn’t matter.

Jinkx and Latrice exchanged knowing looks at Sharon’s defensive words, but to Alaska’s relief, said nothing. At least they were being professionals, for once.

The incident, as Alaska was now calling it, didn’t arise again as they planned and began to execute the mission. Sharon had tracked Bennecci’s phone from an altercation an officer had with him a week ago, and found the location of a restaurant he was planning to go to that evening. From there, they had followed Latrice’s orders to set up surveillance in the most nondescript car they had, and headed out.

As it turned out, high-brow criminals like Bennecci tended to have a lot of money, and the restaurant they pulled up outside of was more extravagant than Alaska had ever seen in her life. Her idea of a fancy night was a trip to Olive Garden and a bottle of white wine, whereas this place took fancy to a whole new level.

“Oh… uh, bad news, guys.” Jinkx stared at her phone. “This place is fully booked. There’s no way you’re going to be able to get in.”

Sharon sighed. “I need to catch this guy, I’ve been working on this forever. There must be something we can do.”

Latrice cleared her throat. “Hang on. I have an idea. Needles, take your hair down. You too, Thunder. And I think…” She dove into her jacket pocket, and then crowed triumphantly. “Yes! I knew I had my brown lipstick on me. Jinkx, borrow your red one to Sharon. You need to look convincingly dolled up.”

Knowing better than to question Latrice, as both her superior and a good friend, Alaska just laughed. “Damn, Sarge, I’m feeling a little objectified right now. Is there a reason for your makeover?”

As always, Latrice’s screech of laughter was a thing of beauty. “Shut up! Here, Needles, I’m trusting you with this so you best not fucking lose it, or I’ll eat you bitch. Now do you see my plan?”

Alaska saw the plan. In the palm of Sharon’s hand, at which she was staring in complete disbelief, Latrice had placed a shining silver ring, studded with tiny diamonds. Everything started falling into place all of a sudden.

“Hang on, why does she get the ring? Why can’t she propose to me?”

Latrice rolled her eyes, playfully. “Eh, you’re more butch. We’re subscribing to traditional gender roles here to try and make it more realistic to your average couple. Besides, that ring definitely won’t fit either of you anyway, but you can just keep it in your jacket and if anyone asks, show them and say you’re getting it resized. The story is - you’re a newly engaged couple. Congrats.”

Jinkx clapped her hands in glee. “I always knew this day would come!”

This was fine. Alaska was just casually pretending to be engaged to her colleague, who she was also kind of maybe a little bit in love with, who didn’t appear to return her affections, for the sake of an undercover mission so they could keep tabs on an identity thief. Just normal everyday stuff, really. Loathe to act as though any of the plans had got to her, Alaska squared her shoulders and dug in deep to her charms - even if others preferred to call it cockiness. She wore it well, after all.

As they walked inside, she made sure to put her arm around Sharon’s waist to make them look convincing as a couple. A few feet away from them, at the hostess stand, another couple stood waiting.

“That’s Bennecci,” Sharon whispered. “Keep eyes on him. Let’s go.”

They stood behind, smiling politely as the hostess informed Bennecci and his date that their table would be ready shortly. When she noticed them approaching, she faltered.

“Hi, do you have any tables for two?” Sharon asked sweetly, Alaska almost laughing at how much honey she had poured into her voice. Whatever this dumb schtick was, Sharon was really committing to it.

The hostess winced. “I’m so sorry, the place is really busy tonight.”

They had caught Bennecci’s attention. He turned around and studied them for a moment, his hand all the while resting similarly around his date’s waist. His eyes were dark and calculating, but his smile seemed genuine. He had no reason to suspect them, after all.

“Oh, really? We were really hoping to get in… we just got engaged tonight, and we had our very first date here. Isn’t that right, darling?”

Sharon leaned into Alaska’s side, giggling and simpering. Alaska’s heart did a backflip.

Bennecci shrugged at the hostess. “There’s always an exception for love, right, ma’am? Always gotta bless the little lovebirds.”

The hostess nodded. “I’m sure I can find you something. Just wait here one moment.”

It took all of Alaska’s willpower not to be her typical annoying self and offer a mighty high five. Instead, she squeezed Sharon a little closer and shot a look of gratitude towards Bennecci - something she never thought she’d do.

He was a tall, typically attractive Italian man who, according to Sharon’s case file, was fifty five years old. His hair was thick, dark and neatly styled, and clung to his arm was his much younger girlfriend, a tiny thing of bright highlight, glossy pink lips and bleached blonde hair. She couldn’t have been much more than twenty one.

“Congratulations!” The girlfriend trilled, clapping her hands in excitement. “Oh, I love weddings! My name’s Farrah, this is Tony!”

Bennecci nodded in acknowledgement. “Have a wonderful night, you deserve it.”

The hostess returned, four menus in her hands. “Right this way.”

By some strange trick of fate, the tables she had managed to locate were right next to each other - they would have an easy way to keep eyes on Bennecci all night, right up to knowing when he would be leaving. Latrice and Jinkx were stationed outside to spot him anyway, but Alaska fired off a quick text updating them on their good luck and then fell back into her role as acting fiancée. She could be especially loving since Latrice had allocated them enough for a decent meal from the department’s funds.

The moment they were seated, Farrah was all bubbles and sunshine and personal questions. Alaska wondered, briefly, if she knew that her boyfriend was a criminal or not. She spied the laptop bag at his feet, confirmation that the drop-off would be tonight, even if sweet Farrah didn’t seem to know anything about it!

“So! Tell us about yourselves! Names, how did you meet - oh - how did you propose?!”

Sharon faked a laugh. “Oh, I’m Sophia.”

“I’m… Blanche.” Alaska panicked. She hoped neither of them would catch her instinctive reference, although Farrah was definitely too young to recognise it. Judging by the looks on everyone’s faces, it was only Sharon who had noticed anything.

“Right,” Sharon continued. “We met a couple of years ago on a… champagne tour in France. We just hit it off right away, came here for our first date when we got back and here we are.”

Bennecci called over a waiter and spoke to him quietly whilst Farrah gasped and aww’d at the made-up story. Alaska’s stomach felt like it was twisted up in knots. She had, for the most part, been able to separate her growing feelings for Sharon from any kind of detective work she had to do, but now, undercover as a happily engaged couple, the lines were becoming uncomfortably blurred. Sharon’s easily unwavering commitment to the act certainly didn’t help Alaska’s situation at all.

A minute or two later, the waiter Bennecci had called over returned, an expensive bottle of champagne and two glasses on his tray. He placed them down on Alaska and Sharon’s table, then smiled and left.

“From us,” Bennecci said. “A gift, for the happy couple.”

As the meal went on, Alaska let her mind wander a little. She spoke and laughed and flirted on autopilot, expert enough by now on undercover acting to not be suspicious even when she was stuck inside her head. It was all so artificial, and yet it hurt - seeing Sharon across from her at a fancy restaurant, her lips painted red and her smile shining, her proud, albeit fake giggle as she showed off Latrice’s ring to Farrah’s eager gaze. All of it was a lie, and yet Alaska couldn’t help but wonder how things would be if it was real.

If Sharon really was her date. If they really were lovebirds, doted on by another couple purely for how happy they were together.

The night drew to a close. When Farrah excused herself to the bathroom to touch up her makeup, Bennecci mumbled something about talking to the chef, picked up the laptop bag, and headed off.

Sharon stood up. “Okay, we gotta follow him. Let’s go.”

Dropping the act made Alaska feel a little more grounded, but it didn’t necessarily make her feel better. She followed Sharon through the tables, holding her by the hand to keep up the ruse, deciding to just shut off her brain altogether and focus on the man they were trying to arrest.

“The chef must be the buyer,” She hummed, peering down the corridor. From their vantage point, they could see just enough into the kitchen to where Bennecci was, conversing with one of the chefs. “Do you think he’ll make the drop-off here?”

Sharon frowned. “I don’t know, maybe he’s- oh, he’s looking this way.” She paused. “Okay, this is happening.”

There was no time to ask what was happening, because before Alaska knew it, Sharon was kissing her. It was surprisingly soft, and tender - not rushed and desperate like their weekend encounter had been, but sweet and gentle and longing. When they pulled apart a few moments later, Alaska wanted to spend an eternity observing how beautiful Sharon looked, but had to level her gaze at Bennecci, who had approached, and smiled guiltily.

“God, sorry… we were just-”

Bennecci held a hand up to stop them. “Don’t worry about it. I know how it is to be young and in love.”

Sharon feigned a coy, embarrassed look, although Alaska noticed how her eyes had darted down to note that he was still holding the laptop bag, and thus hadn’t made the drop-off yet. “We just can’t keep our hands off each other… I’m just so in love with her, you know?”

Alaska’s heart hurt.

There was little else to say as they exited the restaurant just after Bennecci. Sharon got into the car, returned Latrice’s ring and they started tailing his car a few metres behind, all conversation falling to the mission and only the mission. It was a good thing, given that Alaska was sure the mention of a second kiss in only a few days would be enough to finish her off.

Of course, they were acting as an engaged couple, so the impulsive action made sense. But at the same time, Sharon was confusing the living daylights out of Alaska’s mind.

Latrice watched as the car came to a stop, pulling over a safe distance behind and observing through her equipment. “Where is the buyer…. Oh, I see. Smart. He’s leaving it in that shrubbery, he’s not meeting with the buyer face-to-face. We need to split, two of us tail Bennecci and two of us wait to arrest the buyer.”

“These two can’t tail Bennecci, he’ll recognise them.” Jinkx pointed out, much to Alaska’s chagrin. “The two of you need to wait by the shrubbery in case anyone comes along. That way we can easily get two big fish between us.”

Sharon nodded. “Right. Okay, let’s do this. Is the backup squad car waiting for us?”

“It’s just down the street.” Latrice told them. “Get out, get going. Bennecci is setting off, we gotta follow.”

And then they were alone, in the darkness, stood against the thick trunk of a tree in the midst of the park as they watched for anyone walking past. Alaska couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“You kissed me.”

Sharon didn’t react. Her eyes were firmly rooted on the ground. “We needed to look like we weren’t spying.”

“I know. It was a good cover-up.” Alaska acquiesced, but pushed on. “I’m not mad about it. I’m just… You’re confusing me.”

Alaska took the silence as a hint to continue. “I know you probably read my messages from the other night and knew exactly what I was saying. I’m done hiding it, everyone saw anyway. I told you that I like you because I didn’t want to die having kept it a secret. I understand if you don’t feel the same way, but we’ve now kissed twice and it feels like you’re just fucking with my head. But I know you’re better than that, and you would never intentionally hurt me, right?”

Sharon sighed. The seconds in which Alaska had to wait for a response seemed to stretch out forever, and it was excruciating.

“I’m not trying to hurt you. I’m just… trying to make sense of all this.” She looked up, meeting Alaska’s eyes. “I mean, what are you? A colleague? A friend? I don’t know how to navigate this. Ever since that stupid fake date, I mean it was a lot of fun and I enjoyed hanging out with you but…”

“Everything feels different since then.” Alaska finished, and Sharon nodded. “I don’t know how to go about this either. But I have to know if you feel the same when we kiss or if I’m just being strung along. Do you feel anything?”

Sharon swallowed. “I feel everything. I’m just not good at talking about this kind of thing. I always thought romance and dating was embarrassing… I’m terrible at it. My last relationship was three years ago and it ended in this weird stalemate. We weren’t unhappy, we just didn’t feel anything. It was like we wasted two years that we could never get back. I don’t know how I’m supposed to be sure of my feelings when it’s been so long without anything.”

“I don’t know either.” Alaska shrugged. “I just feel a lot when we kiss, and hanging out with you is fun, and I enjoy your company. Even when we’re at work at 3am and you’re stressed and short-tempered and I’m even getting on my own nerves. I still like you even then. I don’t even like Willam then, and I grew up with her.”

Sharon laughed.

“I’m not saying that we should dive right into a relationship or whatever, I just… maybe one day, when you feel more ready, we can take things slow and talk about this more. Because I like you, Sharon.”

In her peripheral vision, Alaska saw a man enter the park and start to wander, casually yet intently, towards the shrubbery when Bennecci had hidden the laptop bag. He stopped as soon as he noticed that he wasn’t alone, glaring straight in their direction.

“He’s here. The buyer,” Alaska hissed, as quickly as she could. “Well, here we go again.”

Their third kiss in a few short days was Alaska’s favourite kind - she had Sharon pressed against the tree trunk, somehow falling into a natural rhythm as though they were made to fit together. Sharon’s hands cupped Alaska’s cheeks, wantonly pulling her closer, needing to feel more of Alaska’s body against her own. Alaska took control of the pace, cracking one eye open to see if the buyer was convinced and then melting back into the embrace. Nothing felt as good as this.

As soon as they heard the rustling of the shrubbery, they broke apart and reached for their guns, aiming them at the buyer who immediately froze in horror and dropped the laptop bag.

“NYPD, freeze!” Sharon yelled. “We’re professionals! You’re under arrest!”

Once he was cuffed and in the awaiting squad car, they received word from Latrice and Jinkx that they had managed to corner and arrest Bennecci too. Back at the precinct, Sharon offered Alaska a tired smile and the weakest high-five they’d ever exchanged.

“Hey… if it’s not too forward, do you want to come over to my place tonight and talk about this? We can try and get on the same page… I like you too, Alaska.”

Alaska smiled, and was surprised at how light she felt inside. “Of course. I’d love to.”

They talked. There was more kissing, in the soft light of Sharon’s living room. Then Alaska went home, still reeling from the effects of a kiss goodbye, and spent the whole night lying awake in pure giddiness.

Sharon lay awake with bright red cheeks, thinking about how she’d shared countless swift stolen kisses with Alaska, who had taken her on a terrible date for an elaborate joke, who always made her laugh, who worked well with her, who was her colleague, who was making her head spin.

There were some ground rules. They would take things slow, try dating without the entire world knowing, keep things light and fun, and not have sex right away. It seemed pretty fair. Also, they were kind of dating. So everything was perfect.

Willam was on Alaska’s case immediately. It was a pretty slow day at work, a good chunk of Alaska’s cases solved but with mounds of paperwork still to be completed. As much as Tidicue was fair with assigning cases, Alaska knew that it particularly bothered Latrice when all of the paperwork was undone, so she stayed late and dedicated the day to the world’s most boring task.

It had just hit eleven when she sauntered over to Alaska’s desk. The department had mostly emptied out - Sharon had left about half an hour ago, a wave and a smile her subtle goodbye. It was the perfect scene for an interrogation, apparently, as Willam’s expression was nothing if not scheming.

“Hello, best friend! Got time to talk?” She perched herself on Alaska’s desk, swiping all of the files into the open drawer as she did so. Willam cared very little about her job or anyone else’s, and sometimes Alaska regretted recommending her for the precinct.

Alaska rolled her eyes. “No, Wills, I was very clearly working.”

“But now you’re not!” She shrugged cheerfully. “So you can talk. I want to talk about how you’re definitely fucking Sharon, at the very least friends with benefits but I’m detecting a hint of emotion, so maybe-”

Alaska cut her off before she could continue. “Willam! Fucking hell, not here! We’re trying to keep things on the down-low.”

Willam’s face lit up, delighted. “Say no more! Grab your coat, we’re going to Shaw’s.”

“I have to work!”

As expected, Alaska’s protests fell on deaf ears. “Mhmm, I don’t see any work here. Let’s go drink and talk about your illicit slam-piece. I have some stories of my own to tell you about this hot Australian girl I met at a vegan protest. I was only there to get involved in the tits out kinda vibe, but…”

She was impossible to escape. Before Alaska even knew it, she had been dragged out of the station and into the bar, where Willam promptly ordered two margaritas and continued her story. The Aussie girl was called Courtney, and apparently they had hooked up four times in the space of a week between the hours of 1am-4am. Safe to say, Alaska didn’t hold out hope that she’d be a bridesmaid in a friend’s wedding anytime soon.

A notification buzzed on Alaska’s phone.

Sharon [to Alaska Thunder]: <3

Alaska had texted earlier to make sure she had gotten home safe. She smiled at the confirmation, and then looked up to find Willam’s disturbingly white, wolfish grin bared in her direction.

“So… detective on detective action. That’s gotta be a hot porn category, right?”

“You’re such a whore, Wills, oh my god.”

Willam shrugged nonchalantly and sipped her drink. “Come on, sis! I’m dying for some dirty deets on this, you can’t stiff me out! Lowkey always wondered what Sharon’s like in bed, she’s kinda hot. If you won’t tell me, I’ll have to bang her myself.”

The sheer forwardness of it all made Alaska burst into laughter. “Oh my god! You need to slow that libido down. I’ll tell you the bare minimum but it’s not like I have anything to share yet anyway.”

“You… don’t?” Willam looked confused. “I thought y’all were fucking, I could read your vibes and you’re both definitely giving off fucking vibes. I’m never wrong, what gives?”

For some reason, Alaska felt kinda embarrassed. Willam had hated her last girlfriend, who she’d been with for only about six months and broken up with a year ago. The breakup had been swift and painless, but Willam had rejoiced for a week, and ever since then Alaska had wondered if she just had bad taste in women or whether her best friend was an asshole. Needless to say, Willam was definitely an asshole. A loveable asshole, at least.

“We’re… dating? I guess? We’re taking things slowly, trying it out before we make any big decisions.” Alaska confessed, then turned serious. “Don’t tell any of the squad, okay? We don’t want them knowing until we’re ready… if we get there.”

“Gross!” Willam exclaimed, pushing shots in Alaska’s direction. “I’m kidding, I guess that’s cute. I take it she’s the reason you’ve been wearing that cologne to work that you only wear when you’re trying to attract someone? Don’t think I don’t recognise that scent, bitch, I bought it for you in our senior year and it got you your first girlfriend. This ain’t my first time at the rodeo.”

Alaska laughed. “Sure, yeah, she is. I like her a lot, she’s fun to hang out with. Between you and me…” She paused and lifted her glass. “And these shots… I hope things work out for us. That would be cool.”

She knocked them back and winced. “Your alcohol taste is the worst.”

“Gets ya drunk,” Willam replied. “I wanna get wasted and I wanna fuck someone in this bar. Let’s go.”

“Hello?”

“Oh my god, hi! You answered!”

“You called me! Hi, Laska!”

“What’re… what’re you still doin’ awake? I’ve been drinking with Willam!”

“Oh, Willam! I love her!”

“Me too!”

“I’ve been drinking a lil bit too! Where are you?”

“Gonna get in an Uber… too drunk to drive.”

“You should come hang out with me! I’m home ‘cus all my boring friends left!”

“Hey, I will! Bye bye, Tedective Needles!”

Alaska rolled over in bed, satisfied, her chest still heaving from exertion. Beside her, laying flat on her back with flushed pink cheeks and lips parted slightly, Sharon offered a smile. She was breathless, shining with sweat, and Alaska noted she was in the exact same state. The first orgasm had been sobering - the second mind-numbing, the third overwhelming, and the fourth rendering them both carefree and exhausted.

Sharon was so fucking pretty. She made the prettiest noises, wore the prettiest lingerie, and could swirl the prettiest patterns with her tongue.

“We broke a rule.” She breathed, her eyes sparkling as they met Alaska’s.

Alaska pulled Sharon close, pressing their bodies together. “Mmm, yeah. I guess we did.”

The way Sharon’s eyes had darkened at the sight of Alaska in her boxers had sent shockwaves through her entire body, and as she relived the moment in her head, she stroked her hand along the curve of Sharon’s hip.

“It was so worth it.” Sharon grinned. “You are so gorgeous…”

Alaska bit her lip as Sharon started kissing into her neck, careful enough not to mark her skin. Maybe it was her post-orgasm haze, but it seemed to Alaska like this could really work out.

“All you, baby,” Alaska told her, arching her neck to give her some more room. “That’s all you.”

“Be mine, then,” Sharon punctuated each of her words with a kiss. “I don’t give a fuck about anyone else. Just be mine.”

There were varying reactions to their decision. Captain Tidicue told them solemnly that under no circumstances would she allow it to interfere with their work performances, then broke into a wide grin and laughed, totally unbothered by the change. Latrice and Chad offered polite congratulations, whilst Sasha and Shea high-fived one another and seemed to be collecting bet money from some of the uniformed officers. As for Jinkx and Willam - while both were ecstatic, they soon fell into a somewhat playful, somewhat serious argument over who had called it first.

(It was probably Jinkx, but Alaska didn’t fancy ruining Willam’s carefully constructed reputation, so she opted to not get involved.)

They were just… dating. And working together. It was fun. Sometimes they would go on cases together, other times separately, and then at the end of their shifts, they might head out on a date somewhere, or other times they’d go home and have mindblowing sex, or other times they’d go home and binge Netflix shows and eat ungodly amounts of ice-cream in their pyjamas.

Sometimes Alaska would look at Sharon in the middle of a mundane task, like washing the dishes in her apartment or bagging some evidence at work, and would wonder how she got so lucky. Then Sharon would voice her exact thoughts directed the other way, and Alaska would be sure that somehow, she had struck gold.

Time flew by. Families met families, friends met friends, criminals still committed crimes and they still brought them in, day after day. Action-filled days turned into weeks, which turned into months, and within the blink of an eye, their one year anniversary had started sneaking up on them. It had quite possibly been the best year of Alaska’s life, she thought, even as she walked into work wearing one of Sharon’s embarrassing old Hot Topic t-shirts with her uniform.

“Girl, what happened there?” Shea laughed, nudging Latrice to get a closer look. “Did your emo phase hit you again?”

Alaska laughed sarcastically. “Thanks, Shea, but no. This is Sharon’s monstrosity, not mine.”

“I liked Pierce The Veil,” Sharon shrugged, interjecting. “I don’t see the issue with it.”

“Anyway,” Alaska continued, determined to defend herself for the sake of her own pride, “There was a situation with my clothes last night, and none of them are wearable today.”

Latrice seemed amused, but unconvinced. “You don’t have a drawer full of your shit at this point? You’ve been dating for like, a year.”

“A year today!” Alaska winked, proud that she had memorised the date. “And yeah, I do. Turns out Sharon’s apartment has this antiquated sprinkler system that activates when the fire alarm goes off unexpectedly. It also turns out that I am a great chef, and Sharon is a terrible one.”

Sharon harrumphed. “I prefer ‘culinarily challenged’.”

“You heard it here first, folks, she’s a challenge.” Fully expecting Sharon’s mock-indignant shove, Alaska swiftly stepped out of the way to avoid it and grinned, too amused by herself to even pretend otherwise. Sharon folded her arms, but she was laughing too.

Shea shrugged. “I don’t get why you don’t just move in together. Makes life easier for both of you.”

“We’ve been planning to,” Sharon told her, “We just can’t get past the debate of whose apartment to choose. They both have equal shit points and good points.”

Tidicue stepped out from her office. Alaska wondered for a moment if their Captain was going to weigh in on the debate, but her unusually grave expression was unsettling. Everyone turned to look at her, a foreboding silence filling the room.

“A prison truck just overturned a mile down the road and seven high security prisoners have escaped and are now loose in the city. We need to bring them in as quickly as possible so that no civilians get hurt. Needles pair with Michaels, Thunder pair with Royale. We need to get going, now.”

They all but ran to gear up, studying the files Tidicue had handed them as they did. The crimes ranged from murder to grand larceny to arson, and the prisoners seemed like they were going to be nasty pieces of work. Perhaps it was a little bit unprofessional of her, but Alaska’s excitement for the thrilling task and her competitive nature seemed to rear their heads at the same time.

“That’s so sweet of the Captain to try and involve you two,” She smiled sweetly at Sharon, everyone aware that the playful argument was mainly aimed at her. “As if we’ll need you. Bless her, she really does have a big heart. Anyway, Sarge, I believe we have seven prisoners to single-handedly arrest and bring in?”

Latrice seemed happy to play along, and nodded. They turned towards the door before Sharon stopped them, her arm held straight out in offer of a damning handshake.

“Seven prisoners. Whoever catches the most gets to keep their apartment. Loser moves in with the winner.” Her eyes were gleaming, her own innate desire to be the best rivalling Alaska’s in the best way possible. God, Alaska loved her so much. Her determination almost made her look evil - it was hot.

Alaska shook her hand. “Deal. You’re on, Needles.”

Sharon shrugged noncommittally and sauntered out. “Let’s go, Chad. We got this shit in the bag.”

“Later, bitches!” Chad called after them.

Alaska, for one, was shell-shocked. “Did… did that just happen?!”

“You mean, Detective Michaels calling us ‘bitches’? Yes. Yes it did.” Latrice was equally as baffled. “Okay, we gotta move. You have an apartment to keep.”

It was a day of pure chaos. They remained in contact through their phones and walkie-talkies and signals whenever possible, determined to both ensure everyone had been caught for the safety of the city, and to try and win yet another stupid precinct bet. Latrice and Chad were completely unaffected by the results of the bet overall, and yet it seemed to have highlighted a fierce competitive streak within them both too. Chad was one hundred percent Team Needles, all the way, and Latrice was intent on saving Alaska’s apartment at all costs.

At their third arrest - the escaped arsonist, who they caught digging around in a bin in some dingy alley for discarded lighters - they paged Sharon and Chad, wondering how they were doing. On a police front, they needed to know who to look for and where. On a personal level, this was war. Alaska knew that they’d managed two so far, and their three meant that there was only one prisoner standing between winning or losing the bet.

Chad answered them. “Follow us on GPS, we’re tracking two guys that witnesses saw running together. That is, if we haven’t got them both and won by the time you get here.”

“10-2, copy that.”

Latrice tapped into the GPS on the police van they’d been granted special use of for the manhunt. Their current nemeses were about twenty minutes away, and depending on how long it took them to locate and chase down the prisoners, it could make it or break it.

“Just floor it,” Alaska insisted. “We have to catch these guys. For, uh, the good of the city.”

Latrice snorted derisively. “And for your apartment! Screw impartiality, I’m on your team and we’re going to fucking win.”

They were four minutes away when Chad paged them. “Thunder, Royale, do you read?”

“10-2, what’s going on?” Alaska answered, taken aback by Chad’s abrupt tone.

“10-38, ambulance needed. Got the prisoners, one of them had a knife on him. Sharon needs help.”

Alaska’s heart leapt into her mouth. “C-Copy that. We’re two minutes away, take the prisoners in. Calling the ambulance now.”

The moment they arrived on scene, Latrice helped Chad move the prisoners into their van, and get them back to the station. Alaska flew to Sharon’s side, where a small group of concerned civilians had flocked around her.

“NYPD, please move out of the way! Fuck, Sharon!”

Somewhat reassuringly, Sharon looked okay. She offered a weak smile and waved limply, her other arm resting on a table as she sat outside one of the random food establishments on the street. One of the civilians quietly explained how she’d used her scarf as a tourniquet to help with the bleeding, and that she’d noted that Sharon seemed otherwise unhurt. Alaska could already hear the ambulances, mere seconds away.

“What happened? How did he…?”

Sharon shook her head. “It was stupid, I don’t know why I didn’t pat him down or anything. We were just cuffing them and he managed to sharply pull his hand away from me, pull out the knife and just slash at random. He couldn’t see what he was doing, I don’t think he even knew if he was gonna get me. I’m alright, but my arm fucking hurts.”

The panic in Alaska’s chest started to settle as the EMTs rushed over. Alaska thanked them for their help and got into the ambulance along with Sharon, which she could tell provided her girlfriend some small comfort. As fearless as she pretended to be, she wasn’t invincible. She held Sharon’s good hand the entire way into the hospital, just in case.

“You won the bet, at least?” Alaska joked, distracting her from the doctors cleaning and bandaging the wound. She was lucky - it wasn’t severe, it hadn’t nicked any main arteries - but it still hurt like a bitch, and Sharon’s face definitely emulated that.

Sharon laughed shortly. “Right. Four arrests to three. Go me!”

“So, I’m moving into your place. This is a pretty big step.”

Even in pain, Sharon had a way of looking mesmerising. At the end of the day, Alaska didn’t even care about the dumb bet. As long as Sharon was okay, it didn’t matter whose place they decided to live at. The point was that they’d be together, and it would be home. Their home.

“No, you’re not.” Sharon conceded, smiling in spite of herself. “We’ll move into yours. The neighbourhood is nicer, and you live right by that really good Chinese place…” She laughed. “Plus, I’m injured, and whatever I say goes until I’m better. Also, you have a bath and shower. That’s fancy as fuck.”

Alaska cracked up. “Okay. Okay, I’m down. Happy anniversary, babe. I’m sure you’ve had a great day.”

Sharon puckered her lips for a kiss, making Alaska laugh before she leaned forward to give in. “And you’ll watch Jeopardy with me tonight? And Return of the Living Dead?”

“Ugh, fine. Yes, I will.”

Alaska’s lease expired a year and a half after Sharon moved in with her. After that, they decided to look for somewhere else, and found a nice place that seemed doable on their salaries, in good condition, not too far from work and in a nice area (featuring all of their shared favourite takeaway spots).

Life felt good. There was everyday mania, like underground drug rings and dirty cops and corruption, but at the end of the day they could retire home knowing they’d done a little good for their home. And once they were home… Alaska loved sharing her life with Sharon.

Sergeant Latrice Royale took the Lieutenant’s exam and passed it on her first try. The squad went out for drinks to celebrate, and Alaska recalled a very drunk karaoke group consisting of their new Lieutenant, herself, Sharon, Willam and bizarrely Captain Tidicue, butchering Wannabe by the Spice Girls as loudly as they could.

Detective Chad Michaels was promoted to Sergeant as the position needed filling. She then announced that she was expecting her second child, and Alaska and Sharon became very very proud god-parents of a little girl called Morgan.

Willam continued to fuck her way through New York with reckless abandon, or so she claimed. Alaska already knew that the wild escapades she kept describing were all with that Courtney girl, who she ended up finally meeting in a bar after six months of wheedling and begging to be introduced to her. She seemed pretty nice.

Detectives Shea Coulee and Sasha Velour were dating. Alaska was baffled at how she somehow had no idea, and upon asking Sharon about it, was met with hysterical, disbelieving laughter and “Babe, you’re the stupidest lesbian I’ve ever met. And I’ve met so many stupid lesbians.”

Detective Jinkx Monsoon remained one of Alaska’s closest friends and biggest supporters of her relationship. She made hints every couple of months, doing her best to be subtle - often pointing out that various dresses she had in her closet would make great bridesmaid outfits if ever they were needed.

Detective Sharon Needles… well, she was laying against Alaska on the couch, both of them spooning and watching some documentary together. She was still the prettiest girl Alaska had ever seen, and according to her, Alaska was and would always be the only woman in the world. In the midst of theorising about an old true crime case and who really did it (“Come on, Lask, I can come up with theories as we’re watching! We’re literally qualified to do that!”) she paused, shuffled onto her back so she could see Alaska properly, and smiled.

“What? What is it? Do you want more popcorn already?” Alaska asked her.

Sharon chuckled. “Nah, not this time. I want to get married.”

“We should go ring shopping, then.” Alaska mused, casual as anything.

“Yeah, we should.” Sharon agreed.

There was a pause. The documentary kept playing - surprise surprise, the killer was a white male.

“Is that it?” Alaska couldn’t hold in her laughter any longer.

Sharon cackled with her. “Yep, that’s all. We’re engaged now, low effort proposal.”

Another pause. Then she continued, “Of course that’s not it! Come here so I can kiss you senseless and fool you into marrying me.”

The ceremony was beautiful. Alaska wore a fitted tuxedo, Sharon wore a white dress, and Alaska realised she’d never seen her fiancée - her wife - in white before.

Jinkx cried a lot. Willam pretended that she didn’t.

The brides barely took their eyes off each other.

“Mrs Needles.”

“Mrs Thunder.”

It felt good to say. It rolled off their lips nicely.

Captain Tidicue officiated, on their request. “You have the right to remain married. You are entitled to kiss the bride.”

So, she did.

#rpdr fanfiction #purecamp #sharon needles #alaska thunderfuck #shalaska #latrice royale #chad michaels #shea coulee #sasha velour #jinkx monsoon #willam belli #bob the drag queen #case closed #submission #lesbian au

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animeniacss · 4 years

Text

6 Years - Hoseok x Reader - Chapter 26 - How Do I Feel?

Synopsis: 6 years. That’s all it can take to take another look at someone and see that they have completely changed. You were once an eager 20-year-old, with your dreams all in view, and Jung Hoseok at your side to view them with you. However, after a break up the end of your junior year of college, everything seemed different. Now, you’re a recently divorced single mother of two, and your life is nowhere near what you thought it would be. However, after reuniting with Jung Hoseok, you may just be able to capture a little bit of that exciting youth you once knew so long ago.

Feat. BTS Members, Nayeon (TWICE), and Yuna (itzy)

Genre: Romance, SingleMother!AU, Past Relationship, Drama, Some Depictions of Violence/Domestic Abuse

Length: approx. 4.6k words

Chapter 26 - How Do I Feel?

When Hoseok turned to face you, you were unsure what to say. Slowly, you stood up onto your feet and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hobi, I-.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, stepping closer to you. You glanced down. “What did he say to you?”

“He was trying to make me listen to him. I was trying to get him to leave me alone but he wouldn’t.” You felt your head drop a bit, resting on his chest. Hoseok’s arms wrapped around you and he sighed. “I tried to hang up, I really did. I just couldn’t. I don’t know why; I don’t have an excuse. I’m sorry….” Hoseok smiled a bit.

“Don’t be sorry. He shouldn’t have been calling you.”

“But I should’ve hung up right away when I knew it was him on the other end…I just gave him what he wanted, I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid.” He assured, running a hand through your hair.

“I am.” You pouted. Hoseok rested his chin on your head. “You should be mad at me this time.”

“Well I told him I wouldn’t call the police this time, so the fault is really on me.” He said.

“Are you really not going to call them?” You asked, looking up at him curiously. He sighed.

“Do you think I should?” he asked curiously. You were silent for a moment. “Because he shouldn’t be calling you. He’s not even out on bail one day and he’s already violating the rules.” Eventually, you nodded, turning around and grabbing your purse. Hoseok watched you pull out Myung-Dae’s card, and held it out to him.

“Will you call?” you asked curiously. “Or should I do it?” Hoseok smiled, taking the card from your hands.

“I’ll do it.” He said, kissing your forehead. You smiled a bit, nodding as you watched Hoseok head outside the front door, closing it behind him. When he was gone, you turned back to the kitchen and looked at the opened cabinets with different foods inside. After a moment of starring, you let out an aggravated groan. Your heart was still racing at a crazy pace even after getting the phone taken away by Hoseok, and it didn’t seem to be stopping.

“…I’m ordering.” You said, getting on your tiptoes to close the cabinets. You could faintly hear Hoseok outside. He was talking, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying. Honestly, you really didn’t want to know. “Myung-Dae is going to be so angry with me…” you mumbled under your breath. Deciding to try your best to push it from your mind, you made your way to the girl’s room. The sound of giggling and chanting could be heard, and you opened the door. “Girls, do you-?” Before you could finish, the sight of the room overtook your vision. Min Ja and Hyo Bin looked up from the toy chest. Hyo Bin was standing inside of it, both of the girls decorated in tons of different dress-up clothes. Hyo Bin had on a crown that was too big for her, and a blue princess dress. Min Ja wore a princess dress as well, this one was pink, as well as a cape and held a plastic sword in her hand. Whatever toys had to be removed in order to fit Hyo Bin were scattered all around the floor. You sighed, resting against the doorframe. “What on earth are you two doing?”

“We’re playing princess. But Hyo Bin wants to be the princess and I want to be the princess. So, Hyo Bin is the princess and I’m the other heroic princess that saves her from the evil dragon!” Min Ja hurried to her bed, picking up the cute, wide-eyed pink unicorn doll that she had taped crudely colored wings onto. “See? Scaaaary.”

“Min Ja, this room is an absolute mess.” You said, walking over and kneeling down in front of the toy box. Hyo Bin only offered you a big, toothy grin as she fixed the crown on her head. “Why does Hyo Bin have to be in the toy chest?”

“…She fits.” Min Ja said simply. “And the closet is too dark.”

“What about your homework?” you asked curiously, picking up a few of the dolls off the floor and tossing them back into the chest.

“I finished it.” Min Ja said simply.

“Mama, those are bad guys!” Hyo Bin said simply, pointing to the dolls as you tossed them in. “Mamaaa.”

“Honey, we need to clean this room…” you said softly, and Hyo Bin whimpered a bit. You groaned. With every passing day, Hyo Bin was aging to be more and more like her older sister. You didn’t know if you liked that or not because their whines sounded almost exactly the same.

“What’s going on in here?” you heard a voice hum from behind you. Glancing over at the door, you saw Hoseok looking around the room. “Are you guys playing a game?”

“Yeah! Princess and heroic princess and the evil dragon!” Min Ja said simply, pointing to the unicorn. “Do you want to play, Mr. Hobi?” Hoseok walked in, sitting down beside you.

“Of course, I do!” He said happily. “What should I be?”

“Hmmmm…you can be the evil dragon owner!” Min Ja held up the unicorn and tossed it at him. He caught it easily, and stood up, holding it in his hands.

“Alright then.” Coughing into his hands, he mentally prepared himself. After a moment, he scrunched up his nose and furrowed his brows, trying his best to make a scary and intimidating face. It made Min Ja absolutely lose her mind, and she doubled over laughing. You couldn’t help but chuckle either. “Halt!” He stuck his hand out in Min Ja’s direction. “I’ll never let you rescue the princess. She’s mine!”

“No way!” Min Ja giggled, hurrying up to him. She grabbed hold of his hand and tried with all of her might to yank him down to the floor. “I want to rescue her!” Hoseok dropped to his knees, still trying to keep the intimidating face as best as he could despite the smile that was trying to fight its way onto his face.

“Take this!” Hoseok shouted, lifting up a few of the scattered dolls and tossing them in Min Ja’s direction. She covered herself as she began to giggle. “My army of dolls! Ahahaha!”

“Oh my God…” You shook your head in amusement, glancing at Hyo Bin. She was watching the two intensely as if she actually were a princess watching her hero fight for her life. It was kind of hilarious. You reached out and rubbed her back as you continued to watch. Min Ja ran over again, pretending to confused Hoseok by running back and forth. When he got dizzy, she ran behind him and jumped onto his back, toppling him to the floor.

“Ooof. Auuuugh, I’ve been vested….” He groaned, dropping his head in defeat. You watched as Min Ja giggled, sitting on his back for a few moments. Glancing at Hyo Bin, you scooped her up into your arms. When she looked in your direction, you lifted a finger to your lips and told her to stay silent. She copied you, smiling as well. Standing up, you tried to tiptoe away. However, Min Ja was a sharp girl. She let out a very dramatic gasp.

“THE EVIL WITCH IS TAKING THE PRINCESS!” She screamed. Hoseok looked up.

“WITCH!?” You gasped for a moment. Hoseok quickly got up, scooping Min Ja into his arms.

“We need to get her, Mr. Hobi! You have to be good now!”

“Okay!” He nodded. Next thing you knew, you were jogging down the little hallway, Hoseok and Min Ja shouting behind you as they attempted to chase you. Hyo Bin was shouting too, and you were praying the neighbors had a good sense of humor. As you hurried into the kitchen, you set Hyo Bin down and sat beside her, sprawling out on the floor.

“You win.” You said simply. “You win, you win.” Hoseok and Min Ja high-fived happily as Hyo Bin hurried up to them. “Your prize is that you get to pick what we order in.”

“BARBECUE!” Min Ja shouted. “I want barbecue!” You glanced at Hoseok, who nodded.

“Sounds good to me.” He said. You nodded, and Hoseok handed you your phone so you could make the call. As you waited for the person on the other end, Hoseok led the girls back into their bedroom so that they could continue to play until the food arrived. You decided to just rest on the couch, covering your face with your hands as you listened to the ruckus going on in the other room.

When the food arrived, you paid the lovely teenager for making the journey, before bringing the bags of barbecue into the kitchen. You didn’t even have time to call out to them, by the time the food hit the table, footsteps came rushing in your direction, the clattering of chairs making you look up. Hoseok set Hyo Bin in her little seat, and Min Ja hopped up as well. The girls were still in their dress-up clothes, and Hoseok somehow had a crown on his head, resting lopsided.

“…I hope your room is clean, young lady.” You said sternly as you set the main bowl of chicken in the middle of the table. Min Ja looked over at Hoseok, who waved his hand.

“We’ll clean it after we eat, okay?” He assured. Min Ja nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, after we eat, Mommy.” Finally taking a seat, you nodded.

“Alright fine.” You said. Everyone took their plates and utensils, thank you for the meal as everyone began to dig in. Min Ja was sharing all the interesting things that had happened in their princess rescues princess game. Hosoek apparently died, but came up as a good prince who wanted to help defeat the dragon. Hyo Bin turned out to bed a magical fairy princess. Aliens were somehow involved. You had no idea what was going on, but Min Ja’s eyes were glowing as she chatted about it. The sight made you feel so at ease.

------------------------------------

“What did Myung-Dae say?” you asked curiously, tossing your clothes into the bedside hamper. Hoseok was just getting out of the shower, shaking his hair out with a towel as you finished putting on your pajamas. Hoseok and you had read the girls to sleep only minutes ago, while you finished tossing the last of the dolls into the toy chest, and tossed the girl's barbecue stained dress-up clothes in the laundry room for tomorrow’s load. “I didn’t want to know at first, but now I do.” Hoseok smiled as he sat on the end of the bed, tossing the towel to the side.

“I told him Weong-Bin called and he said that he would talk to him and bring him in. I’m not sure if he was going to do it tonight, it sounded like he was getting ready to go home. But he also said that if this does happen again, just to immediately hang up and call him. Or me, if I’m not home.”

“I figured he would say that.” You chuckled a bit. Hoseok smiled, heading over to the dresser and grabbing a tee-shirt to toss on. He stood by the mirror, running a brush through his damp hair. “But I know that now. I still feel silly I didn’t do it the first time.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it, that’s exactly what he wants.” Hoseok assured. “Weong-Bin will most likely be in jail until the trial, so there’s no need to worry about it anymore.”

“But…what if he’s found not guilty and released?” you asked, looking over at him. “Then nothing will change, and he’ll only be angrier… I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it.”

“I don’t think he will. They have evidence of the bruises, and Min Ja even said she’s heard him hit you.”

“…I don’t feel right putting her through all of this, either.” You said softly.

“Nobody wants to put a five-year-old on the spot to put down her own father. But she’s a strong girl. She’ll be just fine.” Hoseok assured. You nodded, and Hoseok crawled across the bed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into his arms. You chuckled, nuzzling into his embrace. “You’ll be okay too.” He assured.

Just as the two of you were finally ready to turn in for the night, you heard a noise at your bedroom door. Glancing over, you saw Min Ja standing in the doorway, wearing her little nightgown and a pair of pink slippers. Her hair was a bit messy, but it was clear that she had not fallen into a deep sleep yet.

“Min Ja…” you hummed, sitting up. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling okay?”

“I heard you talking about Daddy…” she said softly. She walked over to your bed, and you quickly scooped her up into your arms. She wrapped them around you. “People go to jail…when they do bad things…” she said softly.

“That’s right sweetie…” you said softly.

“Is it because Daddy hit you all the time?” She asked softly. You let out a shaky breath, and Min Ja didn’t really need to hear much else about it. “He told me that he stopped making bad mistakes. He lied…” In hopes of calming her down, you ran a hand through her hair. “Is Daddy mad at me too?” You glanced down at her.

“Why would he be mad at you?” you asked curiously.

“He told me not to tell anybody about our secret talks. I drew lots of pictures, but I promise I didn’t tell anyone.” You could see her eyes get a bit wet. “I don’t want him to be mad at me, Mommy…” You sighed softly.

“Min Ja, you did the right thing, telling your teacher how you felt through your pictures. Do you understand that?”

“But Daddy thinks I told them about our secret talks.” You glanced at Hoseok, who sat at the end of the bed, watching silently. “I know Daddy made lots of mistakes. But I don’t want him to go to jail. Then I’ll never see him again…” you couldn’t help but feel bad that Min Ja felt this way, but she was simply to young to fully understand. You didn’t think that you had to strength to really try and explain anything to her now. What if it only made things worse?

How is she going to be able to testify if this is how she feels? You thought to yourself. You knew you wouldn’t be enough, Min Ja’s viewing of these awful moments made it much more than just the typical “He said – She said” among two bitter divorcees. “Min Ja…” you said softly. She looked up at you. “Daddy has made lots of mistakes. He needs to understand that what he did was wrong. He shouldn’t ever hit anyone, and he shouldn’t have made you feel so sad. Daddy needs lots of help so that he can be a better person.” Min Ja still looked a bit confused. “I know you’re probably really confused, and that’s okay. It’s okay to be overwhelmed.”

“What does “overwhelm” mean?” she asked curiously.

“It means that you are so confused, that it makes your head hurt a lot. And you don’t know what to do to make it feel better. It can be scary sometimes.”

“…Are you overwhelmed too?” she asked softly. You nodded, smiling a bit. Min Ja reached up to your hair, patting it like you were doing to her. It made your shoulders relax, and you rested your head on her forehead. “Am I not allowed to love Daddy?” she asked, after a moment of silence. You quickly looked her in the eyes.

“You can love your Daddy, okay?” You said softly. “I’ll never, ever stop you or your sister from loving your Daddy.” You knew this may change as the girls grew up, and learned the full extent of everything that had gone on. However, for now, you would only be sinking to Weong-Bin’s level if you told your girls how to feel about him. Min Ja nodded.

“Okay, because I love Daddy lots and lots. But…if he moved in again, he’d make you sad. I don’t want him to make you sad, Mommy…” You smiled a bit. “Plus, he isn’t good at playing games with Hyo Bin and me. Mr. Hobi is.” Hoseok chuckled, laying back on the bed as Min Ja looked over him. “He played the evil dragon and the good prince. That’s hard.”

“It was.” Hoseok admitted. “Do you think I should be an actor, Min Ja?”

“Mhm.” She nodded happily. You smiled, holding Min Ja close to you as she gave you a tight hug. “I love you, Mommy…”

“I love you too…” You said softly, kissing her forehead. “But it’s time to go to bed now, okay?” Min Ja pouted.

“I wanna stay with you…” she begged, holding onto your shirt. Glancing up at Hoseok, he shrugged.

“I don’t mind. The bed is big enough.” You chuckled, watching as Hoseok crawled into bed. Min Ja followed him, as he opened up a bit of the sheet to allow her to crawl underneath. “Alright, comfy?” he asked, watching as she snuggled into the sheets. When she nodded, Hoseok smiled as he too went under the covers. You slid in beside them but didn’t fully lie down. You sat up, looking down at the two of them. Hoseok rolled over and turned off the lamp, showering the room in darkness. “Alright, time for bed, Min Ja.” He said.

“Kay…” she said. You could see their shadows shifting a bit, Min Ja rolling over to face you, her tiny hand reaching out for yours. You quickly offered the hand to her and gave it a little squeeze.

“I’ll be right back.” You said softly, kissing her hand as you slid out of bed. You walked out the room, and into the kitchen, turning on the small light above the dining table. Taking a seat, you ran a hand through your hair before resting your head on the table.

You just couldn’t wait for this all to be over.

------------------------------

That weekend was a more stressful one for you. You had woken up, made some breakfast, and gotten yourself ready much earlier than you had planned. It was the day that you and Min Ja were going to start preparing for the trial, and even though your entire family and Hobi stressed you get as much sleep as you could, you found yourself unable to, even with Hoseok offering you warm milk and rubbing your back in attempts to calm you down. You were just so nervous; you couldn’t stand it. So, you had been up since almost 5 a.m., trying to find a nice outfit for both you and Min Ja to wear, pacing the living room quietly as you thought about what the process was like. It was very different than the divorce court, at least, you felt it would be.

“You’re already awake?” Hobi asked, staggering into the living room. He had just woken up and noticed that you weren’t in bed beside him. “It’s like 5 a.m. You don’t have to meet the prosecutor for another 3 hours.”

“I know.” You said.

“…Have you even slept?” he asked.

“No, I haven’t.” you said. “I tried, but I probably only dozed off in intervals of 15 minutes.” You motioned to the kitchen. “I have coffee brewing. Want some?” Hoseok nodded, smiling as you walked into the kitchen, taking the coffee pot and pouring two cups of coffee. Once they were mixed and perfect, you passed Hoseok his white cup with a smiling sun on it. You found comfort with him on the couch, instinctively snuggling up close to him. He smiled as you both drank your coffee, the warm liquid coursing your body and making you both begin to fully wake up. “What are your plans today with Hyo Bin?”

“Well since it’s my day off, I think I’m just going to take her to the park, maybe grab some lunch.” He shrugged. “Come home and take a nap because I’ll be exhausted from that alone.” You giggled a bit, nodding.

“Oh, for sure.” You said. “Thanks again for watching her.” Hoseok shrugged, smiling happily. You rested your head on his shoulder. “…I know I’m practicing so that I’m not this nervous during the actual trial, but I’m really nervous.”

“You’ll do just fine.” He said. “Tell me all about it when you get home, okay?” you nodded a bit as Hoseok kissed your forehead. The two of you remained on the couch for a little while, drinking your coffee, and just taking some time to relax. Hoseok glanced down a few times, seeing that your eyes were closed, and you were breathing calmly. He set his coffee cup down as carefully as he could, not wanting to make you stir now that you were finally still. After succeeding, he reached out and ran a hand through your hair, which only made you relax more. As he watched you, he thought back to the conversation he had with Yoongi and Namjoon.

He knew that Yoongi was just trying to lighten the mood by mentioning the idea of marriage, but even if that were the case, Hoseok found himself still thinking about it constantly. He had known since he first met you that he wanted to marry you, and even after reuniting with you, and especially after you both started dating again, those thoughts only got stronger. He wasn’t sure when the right time would be, or if there would ever really be a good time. However, he did know that he was going to put a ring on your finger one day, even before Yoongi made his little joke.

After allowing you to sleep just a little bit more, Hoseok got you up and the both of you went to get the girls ready for the day. You dressed them, while Hoseok threw on some casual clothes and began to make a quick breakfast for everyone. The girls were still sleepy, so luckily, they were not putting up much of a fight about what clothes they needed to wear. With the girls dressed and well-fed, and both you and Hoseok ready to go, you each took the child that you were responsible for and headed out the door.

“Hyo Bin, be good for Mr. Hobi, okay?” You said to your daughter as she waved him Mr. Hobi’s arms.

“Okay, Mama.” She said happily. “I’ll be good.” You kissed her forehead.

“Call if you need anything, okay?” Hoseok said to you, before kissing your cheek. You nodded.

“I will, but we’ll be alright. Right, Min Ja?” you glanced down at your daughter, who was holding your hand tightly.

“Mhm!” She grinned. “Bye, Mr. Hobi! Bye, Hyo Bin!” Hyo Bin waved to her sister as you and Hoseok began leading the girls down opposite ends of the street. When Hoseok was far enough away, he turned to see how far you had gotten. You were almost down the street, waiting for the light to change and allow you to cross. That’s when he looked at Hyo Bin.

“Hyo Bin. I wanna buy Mommy a pretty ring. Will you help me?” He asked. Hyo Bin’s eyes sparkled, and she nodded. “Really? Okay, but you can’t tell Mommy, okay? It’s a big surprise. Like a birthday.”

“Like a birthday, okay.” Hyo Bin put a finger to her lips and let out a long “Shhhhhhhh”. Hoseok laughed a bit and headed down the street with her, a slight spring now in his step.

--------------------------

“HEY! I DON’T DESERVE TO BE IN HERE!” Weong-Bin shouted as he was dragged down the hallway by the police officer. “What if they were lying!? Check my phone, I never called that lying bi-.”

“Alright, whatever.” The cop scoffed, shoving him into a cell. Weong-Bin looked around, seeing only one other person in the room. The man was probably about his age, a bit heavier, with a full head of black hair tied up in a small ponytail. Weong-Bin tried to shout at the policeman as he was leaving but to no avail. He was completely ignored from this point on. “HEY! I want my lawyer here NOW!”

“No use yelling.” The man in the cell said, and Weong-Bin looked over. “Hey, nice to meet you. Guess we’re roomies now.” He smirked. Weong-Bin sighed, walking over to the open bed and sitting down on it, groaning. “No greeting?” He asked. No response. “Nothing?” Still, no response from Weong-Bin. “…Alright.” The man shrugged, laying back down in his bed.

That was two days ago, and now Weong-Bin was stuck in a jail cell, bitter and frustrated. Why did Hoseok have to come home at that specific time? What the hell gave him the right to speak to him that way? Just thinking about it made him even more furious.

“Hey.” He heard a voice and looked over to it. It was the same guy, who eventually said his name was In-Ho, and he was in jail for assaulting someone in a bar while he was drunk. To this day, he still had no idea who he had attacked, but he knew for a fact he almost killed the guy. Weong-Bin never asked him this, but In-Ho was sure to share it. “…Hey!”

“What?” Weong-Bin scoffed.

“What’s got you so mad?”

“Why the fuck do you care?”

“We’re roommates. Means we’re basically friends.”

“I’m not planning to befriend criminals.”

“Look in the mirror. I know you’re in here for slapping your wife around.” He snickered. Weong-Bin scoffed.

“It’s not like that. Her boyfriend is filling her head with lies and exaggerations.”

“Lemme guess, a new boyfriend is making this tougher?” In-Ho asked curiously.

“Unbelievably.” He scoffed. “I’m sick and tired of the scumbag thinking he can just come back into the picture and take what’s mine. He didn’t make my girls, he’s not their father. And he sure as hell didn’t marry my wife and make her into the woman she is today. I did all that, my family is my pride. He’s taking it away and I can’t handle it.”

“Oooooh.” The man sat upon his bed. “So, you’re a fucking narcissistic control freak, huh?”

“What?” he glared, eyes narrowing in anger. The man let out a loud belly laugh now, grinning a bit.

“You heard me.” He leaned forward, looking at Weong-Bin. “And it seems he’s the reason you’re back in jail instead of on bail, huh?”

“Damn right.” He scoffed. “I hate him.”

“It sounds like you should do something about it.” Weong-Bin blinked. “You have any connections on the outside you can call?”

“…I have a few.”

“Anyone desperate enough to do something drastic for a few extra bucks?” Weong-Bin raised an eyebrow, staring at the man without saying a word. The man smirked a bit, leaning back.

“What do you mean?” Weong-Bin asked curiously.

“Just answer my question first.”

“I know a few people who got let go in my company this past quarter due to budget cuts. But why are you asking?” In-Hoe grinned.

“How much money does this mean that they lose?”

“A lot. My company is very high up and powerful, we make high salaries every year.”

“So, someone who got fired, probably won’t be able to pay their bills and support their families huh?”

“…Yeah?” In-Ho was now silent, resting his chin in his hand. It looked as if he was thinking about what he was going to say next.

“So, which one of these guys do you think is most likely to kill if it means getting some money?”

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yeehawbisexualold · 7 years

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You're a Marshmallow, Emma Swan

A CS Veronica Mars AU.

Rated T. 4.3k words. (1/?)

A/N The first chapter very closely follows the pilot in order to set up the characters and plot. Future chapters may not be as verbatim. Also, words in italics are used to represent voice-overs. Although David will be her father, I decided to keep Emma’s last name as Swan because Veronica Mars is such a distinctive name and so is Emma Swan and I don’t think Emma Nolan or the Nolan family would pack quite the same punch.

Welcome to Storybrooke high school. If you go here, your parents are either millionaires or work for millionaires. Storybrooke, California, a town without a middle class. If you’re in the second group, you get a job—fast food, movie theaters, mini-marts. Emma Swan’s after school job means tailing philandering spouses or investigating false injury claims.

She gets out of her car, a beat up, yellow bug, to see a crowd formed around the school’s flagpole. The source of the crowd’s interest, she finds, is a naked boy, duct taped, precariously to cover his private bits, to the pole with the word snitch (misspelled as “snich”) painted across his bare chest. She pushes through the hoard of spectators, gawking at the scrawny boy’s misfortune. “Who’d that guy rat out?” “Why doesn’t somebody cut him down?” “Yeah, I’ll do it. I wanna be the guy up there tomorrow.”

Reaching into her pocket, she tells the guy snapping a selfie on his phone to move.

“Who died and made you the queen?” the jack ass asks as she pulls out her pocket knife. He backs away silently when she snaps it open near his face.

“You’re new here, huh?” she asks the kid as she begins sawing away the duct tape near his wrists. He nods. “Welcome to Storybrooke High.” The bell for class rings and as the crowd begins to disperse, she sardonically cheers “Go Pirates!”

She cuts away enough to free him but leaves him with the pieces that protect his modesty.

In advanced placement English, she rests her head on her desk, falling asleep to the sound of her droning teacher’s voice.

“Did anybody complete the reading?” the woman inquires, removing her glasses. “Emma? Emma Swan, congratulations you’re my volunteer. Pope, An Essay On Man, lesson one.”

“Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never is, but always to be blest. The soul, uneasy and confined from home, rests and expatiates in a life to come,” she speaks from memory.

“And what do you suppose Pope meant by that?” the teacher quizzes.

She twiddles her fingers. “Life’s a bitch until you die.”

“Thank you, Miss Swan, for that succinct and somewhat inappropriate response.”

Random locker searches are the latest tactic the administration has adopted in its losing war on drugs. Except for Emma Swan, the searches aren’t random. She knows when they’re going to happen before Vice Principle “Grumpy” does. (His real name is Leroy but the students of Storybrooke aren’t much for respecting authority.

“Emma Swan. This should be good,” one of Sheriff Zelena Mills’ lackeys says with a smirk.

“Will you please open your locker?” Grumpy asks.

She twists in her combination and swings open the door to reveal a perfectly bare locker. Well, bare to the exception of a photo of Grumpy framed by a red heart and taped to the metal door

“Wow,” she huffs with a grin. “This is a little embarrassing.”

Emma sits alone at a round, red plastic lunch table, stabbing her disposable fork into the atrocity the school calls lunch. She stares blankly across the outdoor cafeteria at a group of rowdy students.

I used to sit there, at that table. It’s not like my family met the minimum net worth requirement. My dad didn’t own his own airline like Greg Mendell’s or serve as Ambassador to Belgium like Tamara’s. But my dad used to be the sheriff and that had a certain cache. Let’s be honest though. The only reason I was allowed past the velvet ropes was Neal Hood, son of software billionaire Robin Hood. He used to be my boyfriend. Then one day, with no warning, he ended things.

The most obnoxious of the students perches himself on Neal’s lap, rubbing his chest as he smirks at Emma.

And let’s not forget Killian Jones. His dad makes 20 million a picture. You probably own his action figure. He built his career on being the British bad boy and his son tries his damnedest to upstage his levels of naughtiness. Every school has an obligatory, psychotic jack ass. He’s ours.

Neal pushes him off and turns his attention back to Tamara who’s snuggled herself up against his side and Killian simply sits next to him clapping his hands together and pointing at Emma with a wild grin.

A figure sits down across from her, partially blocking her vision of Killian’s antics.

“You ok?” they ask, startling her out of her focused glare.

“What?“

It’s the kid she cut down earlier.

“You look, I don’t know, hypnotized.” He explains, opening his lunch.

“Did I say you could sit here?” she snaps at him. As soon as he stands, shoving his lunch back in the bag, she feels remorse. Killian pisses her off but that’s no reason to treat the new kid, who’s already had a rough enough first day, like shit. “Wait. Of course, you can sit here.”

He sits back down with a smile.

“That was cool what you did.”

Before she can respond, she’s interrupted by a voice behind her.

“My bitch. Weren’t you supposed to wait for me at the flagpole?” The bare sleeved, tattooed interrupter crouches down and gets in the kids face. “I’m not sure I could have made that any clearer.”

The kid looks like he’s going to shit his pants.

“Leave him alone,” Emma demands and the guy turns his attention to her.

“Love, the only time I care what a woman has to say is when she’s riding my big ole hog and even then it’s not so much words as just a bunch of oohs and aahs, ya know?” He asks planting himself in front of her.

“So it’s big, huh?”

“Legendary.”

“Well, let’s see it. I mean if it’s as big as you say, I’ll be your girlfriend.” She smiles brightly and gasps as if she’s just had a thought. “We could go to prom together!”

When he just laughs and leans back she continues “What seems to be the problem? I’m on a schedule here.”

“Dude, don’t let blondie talk to you like that!” his friend chimes in.

“Sounds like your buddy here wants to see it too.”

“Hell, I’ll show you mine!” the buddy shouts but is interrupted by Grumpy, arriving to break up the disturbance and ask Emma why trouble follows her around.

“So what did you do?” she asks the ‘snitch,’ who’s name she learns is Henry, after everyone clears away from the table. If she just confronted Will Scarlet, the leader of the local biker gang, she deserves to know what she was standing up for.

He explains how he works at the local gas station and while he was working alone last night, some of the guys walked in and stole alcohol from the store, stuffing bottles in their jackets and only paying for a pack of gum. He tripped the silent alarm but when the police came—"We don’t have police here. We have a sheriffs department.“—and he went outside, he realized an entire gang sat in the parking lot. Intimidated by all of the guys, he told the sheriff he pressed the alarm by accident. “You need to go see the wizard, ask him for some guts.” The sheriff told him before hauling the two bikers away.

“Go see the wizard? She said that?” Emma asks once he’s finished his story. “Congratulations, in your short time here, you’ve already managed to piss of the biker gang and the local sheriff.”

She heads to her fathers P.I. office, Swan Investigation, after school and is surprised to find Regina Hood’s car there. She hates Emma almost as much as she loves her son.

She sits down at the reception desk and busies herself with paperwork, waiting for Regina to walk out. Ingrid, the local, low-level lawyer walks in and offers “her father” a case to discover how the strip club her client works for keeps their liquor license and help her client make a deal.

After Ingrid leaves, Regina walks out of her father’s office.

“Don’t get the wrong idea, David. I don’t like you,” she says coolly, strutting past in her clean, pressed, white pantsuit, her chin tilted back in an air of arrogance. She turns her icy gaze to Emma. “I hate the fact that I’m here. But I know if anyone will be dogged and resourceful in this matter, it’ll be you. Don’t call me at home, I’ll call you.”

And then she’s gone, the air feeling decidedly less chilly without her presence.

Sure she’s a bitch. But can you blame her? After all, dad did try to send her husband to jail for life.

Her dad joins her to eat and she attempts to figure out why Regina was here. He ignores her attempts at questioning him, joking about the plastic resemblance of the cheese on their sandwiches. But after enough grilling, he reveals that Regina believes her husband Robin is having an affair—late nights and motels—and that he took the case because they need the money.

“Good, I would have been pissed if you hadn’t.”

“I wouldn’t have cared if you were.”

They continue eating together until the phone rings and her father announces he has to leave for a trip to El Paso, demanding she leaves the Hood case alone. She nods in response, knowing full well she’s lying.

She follows Robin Hood to his office. As she sits in her car, staring up into the windows of the building, she thinks about her best friend Milah, Robin’s daughter. Leaning back against the seat she recalls the pep squad car wash they worked in October of last year, both of them wearing the tight t-shirt and shorts combo, Emma with her hair in pigtails and Milah with hers long and loose.

“I’ve got a secret, Emma Swan,” she giggled, conspiratorially as she rubbed a soapy sponge along the hood of a car.

Those were the last words Emma ever heard from Milah. Later that night, she was found dead by her pool.

Emma’s father had been driving her home when he received a call about a disturbance at the Hood estate. When they arrived, David instructed her to stay in the car. But she saw Neal, sitting on a bench with his arms tucked around himself, rocking back and forth, his face ashen and his eyes wide, filled with an emotion to this day she can not name. All it took was one look at him and she was rushing in the house to see what happened.

“Where’s Milah?” she asked, her chest tight. All he could offer in response was a scrunched brow and a mouth, shaking into a frown.

Outside she found the area swarming with cops, a grieving couple, and by the pool, the lifeless body of her dead best friend—eyes wide and unseeing, blood dripping down her face from the gaping wound above where her temple met her scalp.

But everyone knows the story, the murder of Milah Hood. It was on the cover of People Magazine. It made entertainment tonight. The town was flooded with journalists. And of course, everyone remembers the bumbling, local sheriff. The one who went after the wrong man.

That bumbling sheriff was my dad.

Six weeks after Milah’s death, her crime scene video was leaked by someone in the sheriff department. In a matter of hours, millions of people around the world had seen the grizzly footage. Someone had to be held responsible and that someone was David Swan.

“So, Swan, does your dad still think that Milah’s father did this?” Killian confronted her in the school computer lab. “That’s my girlfriend. Your friend. Neal’s sister. Your dad is destroying the Hood family. What’s the matter with you people? What’s the matter with you?”

She knew he was lashing out because he was hurt but so was she. When he maliciously spit out the words, “I’m done with you.” She thought good because she couldn’t help but hate him a little bit for the way he was treating her.

Her father’s belief that Robin was the murderer no longer mattered. An emergency recall removed him from office and the investigation was no longer in his hands. Her mother wanted to move out of Storybrooke. The loss of status and loss of income was too much for her.

They had to move because they could no longer afford to stay in their house but Emma and David were not going to be run out of town.

A pair of Milah’s shoes were later discovered on the house boat of one Triton King and her father’s successor, Sheriff Zelena Mills’ face was plastered across the news for her amazing arrest.

Emma’s dad may not have been right about Robin but, sitting in the parking lot of a skeezy motel named the Camelot, she knows Regina is right about him now. She can’t imagine it’s a business meeting that’s being conducted at one in the morning, behind the door of one of the upper-level rooms.

Before she can get any substantial evidence, her car is swarmed in the parking lot by none other than Will’s gang.

“Car trouble miss?” he asks with a smirk.

“Might be a loose belt but if you wouldn’t mind checking under the hood,” she answers sweetly.

One of the guys walks up to her open window and her dog Wilby, affectionately nicknamed backup, jumps out. The guy lands flat on his back as the dog snarls at his throat. Another stomps up, yelling at her to call off her dog and she tazes him in the chest. Down he goes.

She calls Wilby off.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll call it a draw,” she tells Will.

“Love, come on, it’s too late for that.”

“Here’s the deal,” Emma informs him, no bull shit face in place. “Leave that kid at school alone for a week and I’ll make sure your boys walk.”

“Why do you care for that kid so much, anyway? Things I heard about you… You must really lay the pipe right.”

“Yeah, that’s it,” she says cheerfully with a sarcastic nod of her head.

Mr. Electricity begins to lift himself up, using her door as leverage, and she charges her tazer in front of his face as a warning.

“Alright, one week. But if you don’t get them off, I’m coming for you, your boy, and your little dog too. And remember, if you get lonely out here, Will love you long time.” He kisses the air at her as he revs his engine.

Quite a reputation I’ve got, huh? You wanna know how I lost my virginity? So do I.

It happened at a party at Tamara’s, that much she knows. She’d curled her hair and put on one of her favorite dresses—white, knee length, and flowy. Her reason for going was simply to show everyone that the way they treated her didn’t affect her.

It was a mistake.

As she walked through the crowded room of people from whom the only attention she received was pointed whispers and giggles, people whom she once considered friends, she was handed a drink. She didn’t know who handed it to her but she chugged it down.

Before long she was stumbling around dizzily and then everything went blank. She woke the next morning, alone in bed, a soreness between her legs and her underwear on the floor. She walked through the house, crying silently, an entirely new type of pain tightening her chest.

She’d thought she’d felt all the pain a person could feel—being unceremoniously dumped by whom she thought was the love of her life, having her best friend murdered, all of her old friends turning against her, and her mother leaving her and her father. But there was at least one thing left the world had to throw at her, one more thing to show her that life truly was a bitch and things would never be the same.

In the present, Robin Hood steps out of the motel room door and Emma snaps as many pictures as she can before he shuts it behind him.

She doesn’t actually get a shot of the woman’s face but she gets some pretty good images of him talking through the door way and the license plates of each car in the lot. That should be enough to get her started.

The next day at school, she sits at her usual table. The kid she’d saved is already there.

“You should hear the things people say about you,” he begins.

“You didn’t have to sit at my table,” she grumbles. Who is this kid? She saves his ass and he chooses to sit at her table for what? To make fun of her?

“And what a fine table this is. What do you suppose it’s made of?” he ponders, tapping his closed fist against the shiny top. “Oak?”

“Look, if people are saying such awful things…” she trails off, shaking her head.

“Well, I figure I’ve got a choice. I could either go hang out with the jerks who laughed at me, took pictures of me while I was taped to that flagpole. Or I could hang out with the chick who cut me down.”

It feels good, his kindness, and a warmth blooms in her chest at the thought of a possible new friend.

“So you wanna get the bike club off your ass?”

“Can we come up with a code name?” he asks, eyes wide with hope.

“Sure, kid.”

She laughs at school for the first time she can remember since Milah’s death.

Her dad returns that night and as he prepares steak on the grill, Emma tells him she got pictures of Hood at the Camelot. He reprimands her for disobeying him but then asks to see the photos. He looks through the stack of images and pauses on one of the license plates of a car.

“I want you to stay away from Robin. You hear me?” he commands firmly, in the serious father voice he so rarely uses.

“But dad, why?”

“Listen to what I said, Emma. Stay away from him. I’m telling Regina I’m dropping the case.”

He storms into the apartment, leaving the grill unmanned.

When Grumpy conducts his next “spontaneous” locker search at school, he makes a stop at Killian Jones’. Killian opens the door, expecting to be in the clear, only to showcase a lovely bong in the shape of a naked man, one hand on his hip, the other grasping the bowl placed where it’s penis should be.

“What’s this, Killian? This appears to be a device used to smoke marijuana.”

Killian looks around the hallways, flooding with people now that the class bell has run and as he’s lead away, his confused eyes land on Emma standing beside Henry.

“I know it was you!” he shouts, angrily, jamming his finger in her face. “This isn’t over, ok?”

She fake yawns at him, patting her hand over her mouth. Henry grins at her side.

“You’re so cute and innocent. I’ll get you for this,” he threatens as he’s pulled away by Grumpy and the deputy.

Jefferson, the residential stoner, passes by and offers her a high five. She’d recruited him in art class the day before to make the bong for her.

Phase two of operation freedom was done.

After school, she drove home to the sheriff’s department. Phase three. With a remote control detonator, he sets off a spark in the bowl of the phallic bong residing in the evidence lock up. The smoke from that sets off the fire alarm and the woman behind the counter calls the fire department.

Then, after the flaming crisis is handled, she heads to the fire department.

“Did you make the switch?” she asks the fire chief who then hands her a large envelope with a video tape inside.

A lot of people in this town still love dad. That comes in handy.

The residual love of her father only gets her so far though and sometimes she is left to her own devices.

Using a phony accent she makes a phone call pretending to be the secretary of the sheriff’s department, claiming to be having trouble with the computer’s system. She asks the man on the phone to run a set of plates involved in a hit and run for her. Except there was no hit and run and the plate number she if reading off is from the car parked at the Camelot the night she watched Robin.

“I’ll be damned, that’s some family,” the man on the other line says, chuckling.

“What is it?”

“That car is registered to one Kathryn Swan.”

She hangs up the phone in shock just as her father opens his office door.

“Explain to me again why we’re dropping the Hood case.”

She’s going to give him one more chance to explain himself, to tell her the truth, to tell her why her mother’s car was parked outside the Camelot the night Robin Hood visited it. But he doesn’t take it. Instead, he sips his coffee and gives her some bullshit excuse about corporate espionage, telling her it’s dangerous and they don’t get paid enough.

He asks if she wants to rent a movie and she walks out, leaving him alone in the office.

She heads to the court house and asks the receptionist which direction the bikers case is.

“Emma! I haven’t seen you since…” the woman trail off uncomfortably.

The last time I was here? Come on. That’s easy.

The last time she was there was the morning after Tamara’s party. She’d limped up to the counter, eyes smudged with mascara, and said she needed to report a crime.

After she sat in front of Zelena and reported what happened, Zelena chuckled in her face and asked “Is there anyone in particular you’d like me to arrest? Or should I just round up the sons of the most important families in town.”

Emma sat silently, shocked and dismayed. She knew Zelena was mean but this was downright wicked.

“I’ve got not a shred of evidence to work with here. But that doesn’t matter to your family now does it?” The woman continued on ignoring the tears streaking down Emma’s face. Ignoring her disheveled appearance, her wild hair, her red eyes, her torn dress. Ignoring the pulsing pain Emma could feel through out her entire body, not a pain physical in its origin but manifesting itself as such and causing her anguish never the less. “Look at this, she cries. I’ll tell you what Emma Swan. Why don’t you go see the wizard, ask for a little backbone.“

Emma left Zelena’s office with no answers to what had happened to her and no hope of ever finding out.

Now she sits in a courtroom, watching a smug Miss Mills deliver her testimony of her account of the night she arrested the two bikers at Henry’s place of work.

“Your honor, can we show the tape?” the opposing lawyer requests.

When the tape is loaded, no robbery is to be seen. Instead, an officer walks a prostitute to his car and is seen opening the door for her, getting in on his own side, and then guiding her head down to his lap.

Phase one of operation freedom had been staking out the strip club and recording the footage of their interesting ways of keeping a valid liquor license.

“Sheriff Mills is this how you run your department?” the judge questions.

Emma finger guns at Zelena and walks out of the court room.

She meets Henry at the beach and presents him with the actual footage of the robbing. He thanks her and tells her that “Underneath that angry young woman shell there’s a slightly less angry young woman just dying to bake me something. You’re a marshmallow, Emma Swan.”

She grins and turns her head away, amused but unwilling to admit it.

They spend some time flying around his remote controlled airplane. Just as she’s getting the hang of it and actually having some fun, Henry interrupts her.

“Emma, look at your car.”

She turns to see Killian lounging across the hood, crowbar in hand, surrounded by his 09er buddies (the richest of the rich, those residing in the the prestigious 90909 zipcode.)

“Do you know what your little joke cost me?” he asks, hopping off the car and swinging the crowbar.

“Well, I’m pretty sure you won’t be getting your bong back.”

He smashes a headlight. “Wrong answer.” He twirls the metal in his hand. “Would you care to guess again?”

She crosses her arms across the chest of her red leather jacket, keeping her face impassive, unwilling to let him phase her no matter what.

“Clearly, your sense of humor.”

And he smashes another head light.

“Nope, the correct answer is my car. That’s right my daddy took the Jolly away. And you know what I won’t be having?” He questions, resting the bar behind his neck and stepping closer to her. He leans in her face and answers his own question with a smirk and raised brows. “Fun, fun, fun.”

She wants to smack his British accent right out of his mouth.

“Uh, Killian,” his friend warns as a heard of bikes pull up along side them.

It doesn’t take long for Will and his friends to flip the situation in her favor.

“What do we have here? Vandalism?” Will asks. “No, the only vandalism that happens in this town goes through me.”

Killian tells Will he doesn’t have a problem with him and Will tells him he’s wrong. With Will smashing in the hood of Killian’s friend’s car (with the crowbar he’d pulled out of Kilian’s hands) and his biker buddies tearing apart the inside, they’re easily convinced to “head for the hills.”

Emma sits in her car outside of her father’s office building, watching him move around through the window.

This morning, when I woke up, I had one person in the world I could count on. But if there’s one thing you learn in this business, the people you love let you down.

David leaves, driving away in his car and she heads into the building. Her dad thinks she doesn’t have the code to the safe but he’s wrong and until now she hasn’t had to use it. She types the code in and opens it to find a large file, stuffed with folders and papers. As she pulls the contents out she realizes it’s the Milah Hood murder file, some of the evidence less than a month old, including the photo of her mother’s car she took the Camelot.

If the confessed killer is already in jail, why hasn’t dad given up on the case?

#captain swan #cs ff #cs au #my fic #i'm really excited about this so i hope y'all like it #cs fanfiction

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