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“You ok, there, Dad?” Emily’s taunting, lilting voice cut through the haze abruptly, pulling him out of his, most likely, lack-of-romantic-connection induced reverie. Yeah, that’s it.

Haha... Beau's been busted.

And now Cassie, Jenny, and Denise know too.

Jarlen

They've already got the couple name. Have to say I prefer that one over...

Belleau

That one just made me laugh!!

Ahh, they are both beginning to realise their feelings for each other.

“Cal’s wrist on the crime scene. I saw numbers.” I frowned, pouting slightly. “541458. Can’t help but think they mean something. And one photo of Lucy had a six digit number tattooed on her. 045114.”

I'm intrigued. What are these numbers about?!

“S’all well and good, but I think you need t’calm yourself down.” He took the courage to kiss my forehead, and paused for a moment, waiting for my reaction. I don’t know what came over me, but I nuzzled further into him, and I felt his chest, which sort of seemed tight, suddenly relax, a long breath escaping his mouth. “You’re always taking care of others, darlin’. Time for someone to take care o’ you.”

Loved this moment between them!

Del Campo leaned forward, his fingers drumming on the table and seriously asking me to snap them off or at least break them with my bare hands. “Markham Leeds sends his regards.”

Oohh!! I knew i didn't like him!! Is he behind all of it?!

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)

A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies

six - kind regards, your broken heart

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I woke up groggily in Beau’s cabin for the third time this week, rubbing my forehead as I grunted softly, propping myself up on the pillows. Beau now no longer trusted the safety of my own house, which had now become a crime scene, therefore prompting him to insist that I stay at his trailer while Dean took care of Olivia. I had taken a beating that day, and my limbs felt like Jello.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”

“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.

“And… emotionally?”

“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”

“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”

“Me.” I sighed, licking my lips nervously. “I have been so… weak lately. I’ve taken but after hit and… I have a niece to protect. If I can’t protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like I’ve failed her, Sheriff. I’ve failed my baby.” My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.

“Your first instinct was to protect Liv.” He assured. “You didn’t think of anyone else before her. You got her to safety first, and I’d label that a damn good aunt, Belle. She’s safe and sound. No longer in danger, and she’s with her dad. She’s ok.”

I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”

NOW:

Along with being a master at getting myself into life-threatening situations, I was also trained in boxing. Now that I’d fully recovered from the gunshot wound and partially from the attack a week ago, I was taking Olivia through another self-defence class. She’s a natural, if I do say so myself.

“Control the space, c’mon.” I encouraged, tapping her arm to keep her guard up. She began to assert more, making me chuckle breathlessly and nod. “That��s it, attagirl. Now, combo.” I held up my focus mittens, which she hit clean and sharp with a jab, cross punch, a vicious hook before twisting into a spinning hook kick. “Good job, tiger. Keep at it, don’t lose that momentum.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Beau watching from the grill with a faint smile on his face, making me laughed and shake my head as I continued to work Olivia through the exercise. “Don’t tire on me now.” I encouraged, tapping her arms again to get her guard up. “Bob and weave.” I hook punched, forcing her to bend her knees and duck under my arm, my glove twisting so she could sharply hook punch it. “Good, good! C’mon, just a little more, then we can have a rest. Roundhouse.” I held up the pad, which she kicked perfectly with a satisfying, resounding smack. The action made Beau’s eyebrows raise slightly, impressed, as he watched Olivia and I, my attention solely on Liv.

His eyes trailed from my tied back wavy hair, my forearm brushing back sweaty, loose strands of my hair. Then they lingered on my determined blue eyes, which flashed almost icy white in the glow of the morning. Then came the dewy curvature of my button nose, a bead of sweat trickling down the freckled skin that was promptly wiped. Then came my pretty pink lips, my tongue darting out every now and then to wet them every now and then. A small huff of breath escaped his mouth as his emerald eyes traced the lines of my neck, lingering on a small, prominent freckle on the smooth, unmarked skin. Then came, like a punch to the gut, my slightly defined shoulders and arms, visible because of my tank top. To make things worse (or better), a hint of my bra strap was visible underneath as it shifted and moved along with my agile body. So his eyes wandered lower-

“You ok, there, Dad?” Emily’s taunting, lilting voice cut through the haze abruptly, pulling him out of his, most likely, lack-of-romantic-connection induced reverie. Yeah, that’s it.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m doin’ fine.” Beau nodded, swallowing. “Just… fine.” He gave me a once over, clearing his throat.

Damn it, Sheriff. That’s your deputy, get it together.

I jogged over with a grin, grabbing my water bottle and taking a long sip from it, the cool water refreshing my lungs. “God, I needed that.” I groaned in satisfaction, rubbing my neck. I then exhaled happily, glancing between the two as I sensed something up. “Did I miss anything?”

“No.” Emily shook her head with an innocent smile. “Not at all.” I flicked my eyes between the two with a twinkle in them, a slight smile playing at my lips.

“A’ight.” I nodded, conceding with a chuckle, running a hand through my hair before rubbing the nape of my neck. I could try and crack the secret code between this father-daughter duo, or I could focus on more pressing matters that I didn’t want Liv to worry about. Such as Cal’s murder, which was confirmed when a body was found dragged into a lake, prints washed off. We still had del Marco in custody, but that told me that it wasn’t enough. We needed the phone. Lucy’s phone, which somebody took. I didn’t know who. “I’m gonna start working the case from the safety of the trailer.”

“Are you sure that’s the best idea, darlin’?” Beau broached, corners of his eyes crinkling in concern. “You ain’t exactly in good shape to go after these God awful men.”

“At least I can go after them from a more desk-heavy standpoint.” I shrugged, grimacing as I thought of the night the guys attacked. “I’m just pissed. They could’ve gotten Olivia.” The thought of them laying their hands on Olivia made my blood boil. The things I’d do to them if they ever did come back for a second round, they’d make the Devil blush. And Lucifer probably doesn’t take these things with a heavy heart.

“We can’t go chargin’ like bulls that see red, Belle.” He chastised, folding his arms with a small huff. “You’ve been getting hurt nonstop, and I can’t see that again- I ain’t allowing it. Not anytime soon. As your friend and your sheriff? I suggest you stand down.”

“And I’m not inclined to slack off.” I frowned, copying his expression. “As long as those thugs are out there, my baby girl is in danger. And as long as she isn’t safe, I’m not happy. So I won’t rest until that group is taken down.”

Beau gave me a long and hard look, his tongue wetting his lips before he bit them in frustration, a look which I wasn’t a stranger to, but it seemed oddly more… magnetic… than usual. If that’s a way to describe it. “You’re not gonna listen, huh?”

“No, sir.”

He let out a huff of breath, looking to the sky as he contemplated what to do. Then he nodded, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Alright. But… if there’s any chance that we need a tactical squad, which is pretty high, you stay at the back.”

I gave him a grin, knowing I’d won. It didn’t take long, since nobody was bothered to deal with my stubbornness. “Thanks, Sheriff.”

He just grumbled and looked away.

I was dropping off Tom to Harry’s house after picking up Liv from their date. I had mixed feelings about Tom, which didn’t feel rather fair, and as an officer of the law, fair judgement is mandatory. On one hand, Olivia seemed happy with him. Really happy. He was sweet (by what I’d heard from Olivia’s lovesick rambling), cared for her and was an all-around gentleman, even though Olivia was older by a few months. I could respect that much. But… he was Harry’s son. Adopted son, so thankfully the bad genes didn’t pass on, but still.

I could still remember the features of his, the ones I admired on a daily basis. The twinkling, charming green blue eyes, the winning smile, fluffy brown blonde hair, the deep, warm laugh that never failed to be contagious- the hell am I mixing Harry up with? Harry’s laugh sounded like the laugh of that grandpa from New York that Olivia showed me once on YouTube but ten times worse. And I can’t believe I found his Missouri accent even one attractive when it doesn’t compare to a Texas accent on a deep voice- where the hell is Texas coming from?!

I walked Tom up the steps to Harry’s house, which was quite literally the picture of picket fence perfection. Only thing missing from the meticulously mowed lawn, carved, painted white, wooden fence and the peach house paired with a red roof was a line of flowery bushes- oh wait, they have that too.

I could’ve had this. But I blew it, with me, myself and my workaholic disposition.

I swallowed, leading the sandy-haired teenager up the steps and knocking on the door to Harry’s house, the man himself opening the door and flashing the smile that always picked my spirits up, but I only got a weird feeling since my stomach sank at the same time this time around. “Harry.”

“Issy.” He moved aside so Tom could walk in, giving him a brief hug before turning back to me. His eyes looked me over, a look in his eye that I couldn’t place. “You look…”

“Horrible, I know.” I chuckled, looking away uncomfortably, a small, polite grin on my face as I tried my hardest not to burst and start yelling about how he ruined me. I half expected him to agree, but then I felt a pressure on my shoulder and found him smiling affectionately as the hand dropped to squeeze my bicep almost imperceptibly. The hell?

“I think you look beautiful.” Harry whispered, making my breath catch in my throat and bile almost shoot up from wherever it comes from. This man is-is married.

“R-Rhea!” I stammered way too loudly, plastering a patronising grin on my face as I shrugged his hand off. “How’s your wife?”

“She’s ok.” He nodded, looking somewhat dejected. I cleared my throat, stepping back to keep distance between him and I.

“That’s good.” Awkward silence, as expected when your married ex is hitting on you. “I have to go. Got work, cases to solve, all that.”

“I see.” He agreed quietly, and I turned on my heel, booking the hell out of there.

Beau hurried to Dewell and Hoyt’s office, where he found the trifecta- Jenny, Cassie and Denise. They all were looking at him with matching knowing glances which told him his game was up. But- hold on a second - what game was there in the first place? No game here, no siree. But there they were, Denise, Jenny and Cassie, all staring at him with looks that said ‘I know your secret’ but the secret was nonexistent, right?

“Emily told us.” Jenny grinned, spinning a pen in between her fingers as she snickered like a cartoon villain.

“How you checked Deputy Joyner out.” Cassie smirked, pumping her eyebrows. His face instantly flushed red; he hadn’t checked his deputy out. He was gauging her suitability to… get back on the job. That’s it. That’s right.

“Or Belle, as you call her.” Denise teased, filing her nails with the wrong side of the filer. “Is there somethin’ you’re not telling us, Bo-Bo?”

“I think y’all are insane.” Beau snorted, averting his eyes nervously. “Belle… and-and me? And I, grammatically speaking. No. Nah, she swore off men, remember? She swore off men. After Harry the ass, who is back in town, by the way, s-she doesn’t need any more men drama.”

“C’mon, I wanna see Jarlen happen.” Cassie pouted.

“Oh my god, Jarlen!” Jenny gasped, nodding frantically. “I was gonna call it Belleau.”

Denise grimaced in agreement, her head also bobbing up and down. “Jarlen works.”

“Jarlen it is.” Cassie smirked, staring straight into Beau’s soul. He cleared his throat, chastising himself for even thinking about his deputy that way. Though… it wouldn’t hurt, right?

It was true that he felt a bit… partial… to the momma bear, ass protecting beaut of a deputy, but he hadn’t been that obvious with it… unless he had.

“You seem rather frustrated on this case, huh, Belle?” He asked, sighing deeply. I shook my head, plastering on a smile that once again did not reach my eyes as I looked back at him.

“No, sir, I’m just concerned for the kid.” I answered not as smoothly as I’d hoped to have done. My voice was slightly shaky, and I knew what he was thinking. Mark had been after custody of Olivia for ages, and was still trying. However, he couldn’t do anything, not when I was named Olivia’s legal guardian and was Lucy’s next of kin.

“It’s about Mark, right?”

I chuckled lowly, nodding. “That obvious?”

“You’re like a mama bear in these cases.” He grinned, then patted my knee. “But now, I need my deputy to have a clear mind. God knows you help me keep mine all clear and sunny skies.”

“Gotcha, Sheriff.” I smiled as we pulled up to the house. “Hear you loud and clear.” I reached under the seat, pulling on my bulletproof vest and strapping it tight. I looked over, seeing that he’d done the same. “Shall we?”

“We shall, darlin’.”

While Olivia was busy admiring the necklaces, I nicked the tape from the box, storing it in the pocket of my jeans. I noticed a large shadow cover the light from the door, and I saw Beau there. I could trust Beau with this. He could help me, so could Jenny and Cassie. I quickly exchanged a look with him that he understood, so he put on a smile, strolling over and clapping me on the shoulder.

“There’s my Southern Belle, all up an’ about. From a Texan to a Kansan, you are what I’d call a Texan 10, even in a faded plaid.” He grinned, squeezing my shoulder slightly and winking before turning to Olivia. “And you, young lady, must be Olivia.”

“That’s me.” Liv nodded, looking between Beau and I. “And you must be Aunt Isa’s favourite sheriff.”

“While I appreciate it, I’m the only sheriff.”

“Exactly.”

“Liv, sweetheart, can you go downstairs? I’ve gotta bring the cake, but start opening your presents.” I said to Olivia with a sigh. I kissed her hair, smoothing it back for a moment before letting her go, and then I turned to Beau when I knew she was out of earshot.

“Something’s up, right?” He frowned, folding his arms and tilting his head. “Talk to me, Belle.”

I held up the cassette tape, a long sigh leaving my mouth. “Titled ‘sunflower’. It’s the nickname my sister used to call me, so I can’t help but think if this is a message seen six years too late.”

“Or something that got mixed up in the wrong box.”

“That’s also a possibility.” I nodded, then pouted in thought. “I’ve got a cassette player somewhere in my study. After Liv’s celebration here is over and she’s out with her friends, whaddya say we have a lil’ listen to it?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Beau agreed, then his eyes landed on the framed photo of my sister and I. “That’s Lucy, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“She looks just like her sister.” He rubbed my arm comfortingly, the backs of his fingers grazing my skin. “How much older was she?”

“Eight years.” I replied softly, leaning slightly into his touch, even though I didn’t quite register it.

“Ah, so she’d be lordin’ it over us if she was still alive. Even a forty-year-old sheriff can’t escape the clutches of an older sister.”

“Neither can a forty year old deputy.” I chuckled, and his hand moved down to hover in front of mine, but my pinky wrapped around his, my breath hitching as I thought of the day I’d skipped down the stairs six years ago and found my sister dead in the garden, multiple knife wounds in her chest. Then the weeks after where I searched and searched for any leads but found none.

My head snapped forward, glass breaking and flying to the left, cutting my cheek as the seatbelt tightened on my chest. My forehead banged against the wheel, a cry escaping my mouth-

“Hey, Deputy.” Beau’s low timbre snapped me out of it again, I looked into his warm green eyes, the ones I’d grown to trust with my life. “You doin’ ok?”

“I… yeah.” I nodded, cracking a smile.

I was sitting in Jenny’s kitchen with Beau and Jenny, of course, the latter busy making lunch since I’d handled our breakfast. I was, again, scrolling on my Instagram, most of my feed Harry and Rhea the redhead. The guy even had the audacity to tag me in a photo, which I didn’t respond to or react to. Beau’s eyes followed mine, locking on the screen with a frown. “That’s Harry the jackass. Why are you lookin’ at photos of Harry the jackass?”

“He’s with the redhead he cheated on me with. Rhea.” I explained with a sigh, and he snatched the phone, not giving me time to protest as he looked at Rhea with an unreadable expression on his face. Then he smirked, nodding.

“I see the appeal.” He chuckled, looking at me playfully. Jenny gasped in horror, swatting his arm while I looked at him incredulously, taken aback by his audacity. “I mean, she’s gorgeous-”

“Beau!” Jenny scolded while I looked away, starting to internally panic. He… thought Rhea was gorgeous? Did he really? Was Harry justified in leaving me because I wasn’t good enough?

“I’m messin’ with you!” Beau raised his hands in surrender, taking another look at the photo before handing my phone back to me. “Sweetheart, Harry the jackass doesn’t even know who he’s lost. This Rhea girl? Doesn’t even hold a candle to you. She’s an LA three, or a Texas one. You are a ten in both worlds, darlin’. He doesn’t deserve you.”

“Thanks, Sheriff.” I sighed in relief, rubbing my face. Jenny patted Beau’s shoulder, giving him a look that said ‘I was about to rip your head off’. “You got me there for a second.”

“I got Hoyt too.”

“Yes, he did.” Jenny nodded, glaring playfully at Beau. “If you’d said that truthfully, no joking, I’d rain down hellfire.”

“Well, I’m glad I was just poking some fun.” Beau smirked, then patted my knee. “You’re gorgeous, Southern Belle. Ain’t no messing around there.”

“You’re very welcome, young lady.” And with that, I took the glass of water with a grateful smile and sipped it as I padded down the stairs in my fuzzy socks. Beau was busy humming a tune and cooking some breakfast, which happened to be scrambled eggs. The moment he saw me, his demeanour instantly changed.

“Ay, ay, ay! Who let her out?” He frowned, pointing at me. Em, Carla and I instantly raised our hands, which forced Beau’s own to accept how I was now capable of walking. “A’ight, three against one, I see how it is. The ladies launching a coup- I see through all your plans.” He chuckled, dishing out the eggs. They didn’t look burnt, which was a plus, so I grabbed one plate and sat down with it. “Since you were on bed rest, Belle, we paused the investigation. The APB hasn’t found the guy who hurt you, but we’ll find him.”

“Yeah, I heard you reopened your sister’s murder investigation.” Carla frowned sympathetically, reaching over to comfortingly squeeze my hand. Emily, however, looked excited.

“No way, your sister was murdered?” She gasped, a wide smile on her face until Beau and Carla shot her a disapproving look, eyebrow raised and mouths set in a grimace. Damn, they’re good at the ‘look’.

“Em, let’s try to be a little more sensitive about this subject.”

“Your enthusiasm is completely warranted, sweetheart, murder can be cool, but let’s dial it down a little.” Beau added, clapping Emily on the shoulder on his way to sit down, and when he did, I felt a small nudge on my foot. I turned to Beau with a raised eyebrow, and he gave me a small smile that could only come before an-“Are you doin’ ok, darlin’?”

There it is.

“Just fine.” I smiled, nodding as I shoved a bite of omelette in my mouth. Beau and Carla looked at me expectantly, as if I was about to break down bleeding all of a sudden, but I shrugged, glancing between them. “I’m fine, you two. Trust me, I feel better already.” I got a call from Olivia, so I broke into a wide grin and answered it immediately, swallowing my chewed bite of omelette. “Hey, sweetie.”

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”

“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.

“And… emotionally?”

“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”

“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”

“Me.” I sighed, licking my lips nervously. “I have been so… weak lately. I’ve taken but after hit and… I was a niece to protect. If I can’t protect myself, how can I protect her from others? I feel like I’ve failed her, Sheriff. I’ve failed my baby.” My voice cracked at the end, the pain tearing at my heart.

I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”

Yeah, maybe he was a little too partial. But he couldn’t help it. Elle Joyner was… likeable, charming, funny, had the most beautiful eyes… he couldn’t help falling for her liking her as much as he did.

“Bo-Bo?” Denise’s lilt took him out of memory lane, matching smirks again on all three of their faces. “You’re a little spacy.”

Beau raised his eyebrows, trying to come up with an excuse but failing miserably.

That night, I was up late, working a case. I’d sent Olivia to bed after having the leftovers from the last takeout and a quick goodbye before she went to Dean’s. I flicked through the sheafs of paper, and I found a picture of Lucy and I. Lucy had a tattoo on her right wrist that made me sit up. I’d never seen her with it before, so it intrigued me more than it usually would.

045114.

The hell was that for? Just a random number?

I swept my hand down my mouth, biting my bottom lip before I shut the file, lying down in the bed Beau had made for me, pulling the covers up to my chin as I shut my eyes, already in my pyjamas. I scrolled on my phone, coming across a voicemail from… Harry. The moment I played it, the slurred syllables told me he had gotten into the beer.

‘Heya, Isa, just wanted t-to say, m’so in love w’ya. Can’t get enough o’ya. Just wanted you t’know. Especially since it’s been how long? A-Ah, three years. Can’t get o’er ya. C-Call me.’

I felt bad for Rhea.

I turned over in bed, too tired to even forward the voicemail to her and blindly putting the phone on the bedside table. My eyelids felt like anvils midair being pulled down by the cruel force of gravity, so I fell asleep soon after. However, that was short lived when I got up a few hours later, panting in what could only be the aftershocks of a nightmare. I rubbed my eyes, my hands travelling to my arms over the hoodie that Beau lent me. It went down to my mid-thigh, I was that small. I saw a wet spot appear on the chest area, and I swallowed, realising that my breath was shakier and more ragged than normal and my cheeks were tainted with tears. I instantly grabbed a tissue, wiping them. I didn’t want to ruin his hoodie any further with my angst that rivalled a teenager’s.

On the way out of the trailer, finding the still-burning fire, I took the photo of Lucy and I out, taken from the time we had been at her first wedding in Dean’s home town: Roseburg, Oregon. I sat down at a chair by the fire, the hoodie practically swallowing my body up in an attempt for warmth. Dean had his lips pressed to Lucy’s hair, his hands tickling her sides and making her let out a laugh that was too beautiful for this world. I was holding the bouquet like a trophy, since I’d caught it, but I, in fact, was not next.

My great aunt Bertha got married to her neighbourhood’s milkman, Samuel, before I could even score a date.

And then Dean and Lucy divorced due to work schedule problems, and Lucy found Mark. Not my favourite choice, but she still married someone. Here I was, yearning for someone at 40 years old who probably didn’t yearn for me back. I’m a mess of a human, aren’t I?

“Belle, darlin’?” Beau showed up at the door to his trailer, his hands desperately trying to smooth his blasted hedgehog hair while his eyes blearily took in the scene, concern bleeding onto his rugged features as he took a step forward, immediately sensing that I was deep in thought. “S’late, sweetheart. What’s goin’ on in that head a’yours, hm?” He also deduced my half-assed attempt for warmth, so he whipped his coat off, tucking it around my shoulders before lunging to get a blanket that he placed over my legs. He then sat down next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my shoulder that he used to draw me into his chest, his other large hand gripping my thigh slightly to move my legs in a more comfortable position. By instinct, my hand went over his heart.

Thump. Thump.

His heartbeat was oddly comforting.

“Mind tellin’ me what’s got my favourite deputy sporting a face like a wet weekend?” Beau asked softly, his fingers rubbing through my hair, teasing out any random knots, because of course there had to be imperfections in what could be a perfect moment.

His lips almost pressed against my hair, ghosting over for a moment before he decided against it, his cheek nuzzling the soft strands instead. I sighed, biting my lip. “I think the case is taking its toll on my sleep.” I replied quietly, rubbing my puffy red eye. “Had a nightmare that Olivia was kidnapped. And had a flashback of when Cal died. So many numbers…”

“What do you mean by that, sweet girl?” He proved further, his thumb tracing my cheekbone before sweeping down to line my jaw. The touches helped me relax and stop the panicking, which helped a lot with recall. My muscles relaxed, my breathing slowing down and telling my watch that I no longer needed to be recommended breathing exercises.

“They’re both connected?”

“Maybe. Just need to figure out how.”

My first instinct was to protest. “But-”

“But nothin’. We’re gonna stay here, and when you’re calm, we’ll go back inside and I’m gonna stay with you. Then we can take a proper crack at del Marco. Got it?”

I deflated, nodding. “Yes, sir.” I giggled at the end, which earned a deep chuckle from him too.

“Deputy, you make me feel old sometimes.” We sat like that in silence, until Beau felt that I’d calmed down enough. He helped me up, tidying away the blanket and extinguishing the fire, switching on his phone torch so we had a light to help us walk. When we got to my bed, he gestured for me to lay down, probably as a ‘ladies first’, and I did. He got in next to me, making sure that the covers were snugly over me before drawing me closer, his arm around my waist protectively. My back facing his chest, his breath on the back of my neck.

It all felt so unfamiliar.

“G’night, Belle.”

“Night, Sheriff.”

The next morning, I woke up slowly, humming with a groggy smile, expecting to feel the warmth of Beau’s arm around me, acting as a shield against the rest of the world. But I didn’t. My eyelashes fluttered and my eyes opened, and instead I found us both at the far ends of the bed, turned away from each other. My stomach went hurtling down like it was a rollercoaster. I didn’t even know why. Perhaps it was the lack of physical contact I’d gotten over the past few years. Maybe I’m touched starved. Yeah, that’s it.

I got out of bed, going into the bathroom to change into Lucy’s leather jacket, smiling at the nice burgundy colour. Underneath that was a black tank top and jeans, to complete the look. I strolled out, finding Beau also fully dressed, adjusting his hat as he turned around with a grin. “G’morning, Belle. Sleep ok?”

“Just peachy.” I nodded, not mentioning the swooping feeling I felt when I woke up and didn’t find him right next to me, the detail that I think he missed. But neither of us missed the brief sweep of our eyes down and up each other. “Let’s go.”

At the department, I walked into the interrogation room with Beau and Jenny, where del Campo was sat with a smug smirk. “Finally, you brought her here.” He gestured to me, his New York accent lilting. “I only got one thing to say. One thing only.”

“And what’s that?” Jenny asked, her expression stony.

“It better be good, otherwise you’re lookin’ at a lotta jail time there, buddy.” Beau seethed, while I remained silent, waiting for this guy to say something.

Del Campo leaned forward, his fingers drumming on the table and seriously asking me to snap them off or at least break them with my bare hands. “Markham Leeds sends his regards.”

My patience broke. My hand clenched into a fist. My thoughts clouded over and were replaced with waves of pure, seething red. My breathing became laboured as I processed the information, which only took the feeling to new heights. I scoffed, about to blow a fuse. Which I did. My fist slammed down onto the table hard, sending a loud and resounding bang through the room that made everyone jump. This was my final straw. I had him. I finally had him.

“MARKHAM, THAT BASTARD!”

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winchestergirl2 · 1 day

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Lucy kept everything on that phone—information that could bury our client, and he paid a large sum o’ money for our services. We like to deliver. So, we want it back, and we'll tear this whole town apart if we have to."

Ooohhh!! Does this have something to do with why she was killed?

Poor girl being confronted by her past like that. Lucky Beau turned up... the ex didn't seem too happy about that!

Oh no, poor elle is really going through it at the moment. Thank goodness Olivia was able to get to Beau, and he and jenny got to her in time.

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)

A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies

A/N 2 - Him in this outfit is MMM

five - make him hurt, make me bleed

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

A man with sandy blonde hair and blue eyes strolled into the newly opened diner where Olivia met Tom, whistling under his breath. His phone was on, a photo of him and a redheaded woman displaying a ring on the lock screen, a heart drawn around her made up face. A worker called Dan put down his mop, strolling over with a sunny smile. “Evening, sir, can I help you?”

“Yeah, thanks, man.” The man nodded with a friendly grin, eyes darting around the room as his fingers fiddled in his pocket. “I’m, uh, I’m lookin’ for my son. His name’s Tom Holden. Have you seen him?”

“He went off with a girl, Olivia Barlowe, earlier.” Dan informed, hand running through his hair as he gauged the man’s character. “Why, you have something to tell him? I can pass the message on, y’know.”

“Oh, that’d be great.” He took out a notebook from the inside of his jacket, writing an address in neat handwriting before ripping it out and handing it to Dan with a chuckle, his cerulean eyes twinkling. “Just tell him his old man’s in town, yeah?”

“Does his old man have a name?” Dan raised an eyebrow with a small smirk as he folded the paper, careful not to read the address since it was a breach of privacy.

“Oh! Oh, yeah.” The man nodded, looking down for a moment with a deep laugh before he glanced back up. “Harry. Harry Holden.”

NOW:

“Alright, you know what to do.” I gestured in front, leaning back in my seat as I glanced at Olivia. “We’re moving onto slower roads, so clutch, change gears.” She did as I asked, and I grinned, clapping as quietly as I could to not spook her. “Good work, sweetheart. You’re a natural, just like your mom.” We pulled up at a grocery store, so I grabbed my wallet, prepping to get out. “Hang tight, gun’s in the glovebox, keep the car door locked until you see me at the passenger’s door, ok?”

“Got it, auntie.” She nodded, so I relaxed, getting out of the car. I shut the door, making my way inside the store while whistling a little tune. I made a beeline for the fruits, picking up a basket on the way before picking out the best ones, dropping them into my basket. My whistling turned into a hum, brushing my curtain bangs out of my face before inspecting a box of strawberries.

“Sunflower, I’m plannin’ on making some strawberry cheesecake, do you think these are good?” Lucy held up a box of rasberries, grinning innocently because if she didn’t know. I smirked knowingly, and replaced the box of raspberries with a box of strawberries. “Oh! Thanks. Silly me.”

“Issy?” I was yanked reluctantly out of the memory, looking up and my blood running cold as I saw… Harry. A wide grin spread across his face as he stepped forward, tilting his head slightly. “It is you, oh, I knew it!” There he goes again with that British accent that makes my skin crawl. It used to make my knees weak.

“Harry.” I sighed, smiling politely, but it faltered when I saw Rhea walk up with… Tom. I locked eyes with the boy and it clicked instantly, a sharp pang of pain shooting through my chest. “And Tom’s… your son?”

“You know my boy?” Harry grinned, clapping Tom on the shoulder. “Well, my darling-” He held Rhea’s hand, which I noticed had a shiny ring on it, “and I adopted Tom a while ago. Rhea, you know Isabelle, right?”

“You’re Tom’s old friend, right?” The redhead smiled, putting out her hand. “Rhea Summers- no, sorry, Holden. Rhea Holden, neé Summers, it’s hard to compute.”

I shook her hand, forcing a chuckle, my mouth feeling dry. “Elle Joyner.”

“Three’s a crowd, but four’s a party.” I heard a familiar Texas accent behind me, and I instantly knew it was Beau, and he laid a protective hand on my shoulder. Harry’s eyebrow twitched, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly as he glanced between Beau and I. “Who’s this, sweetheart?” He knew exactly who this was, so it confused me a little.

“Harry Holden.” Harry introduced, putting out his hand for Beau to shake, seemingly bothered and slightly intimidated since the man was taller than him. “I’m, uh, Elle’s old friend.” Beau’s eyebrow quirked, instantly clocking that Harry was lying. But he shook the latter’s hand anyway, adopting a smile.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen.” He introduced, putting unnecessary emphasis on the first word of the sentence. He then put his hand on my hip, drawing me closer in a manner that was almost possessive. “I’m Belle’s boyfriend.” Oh. Oh, we’re doing that. “Ain’t that right, sweetheart?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, then decided to play along, kissing Beau’s cheek (albeit I had to stand en pointe, and I am NO ballet dancer). I saw a tinge of red flood his cheeks, but he affectionately rubbed my side with a chuckle.

“Your boyfriend.” Harry repeated quietly before clearing his throat and raising his voice slightly. “Well, Olivia will be seeing Tom tonight, won’t she? I’ll drop her off, if that’s ok.”

“Mhmm, yeah, it’s ok. I’ll, uh, see you tonight.” I nodded, swallowing as Beau’s grip felt more prominent on my hip, as if he tightened it slightly. When Harry, Rhea and Tom trotted off like the happy family I seldom had but wanted, I turned to Beau with an apologetic look. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yes, I did.” He smirked, kissing my cheek in what I assumed was revenge, because my ears went red, my eyes widening slightly as I swallowed on a dry throat.

So… more of an attempt.

In the dimly lit basement of an abandoned warehouse, Cal Joyner found himself bound to a rusty chair, the metallic restraints digging into his flesh, adding to the weight of fear and desperation already bearing down on him. The flickering bulb overhead cast erratic shadows that danced across the grimy walls, framing his captors—members of a notorious crime syndicate—as they loomed over him with a menacing presence.

Remy, a burly man with a scarred face and eyes as cold as steel, stepped forward and snarled, "You think we're playing games here, Cal? We want Lucy's phone, and we want it now."

Cal's eyes darted around the room, searching for an escape that didn't exist. His pulse raced, and his throat felt dry. "I already told you, I don't have it!" he protested, his voice strained with a mixture of fear and defiance. "I don't know where it is."

Beside Remy, another thug with a menacing smirk etched into his features cracked his knuckles. "Maybe you need a little more convincing," he sneered, his eyes glinting with malice.

Cal's thoughts flashed back to that haunting night six years ago when Lucy, his beloved daughter, was taken from him. The pain was still raw, a wound that refused to heal. The memory of her murder lingered like a relentless specter, its grip tightening with each passing moment. And now, these men were threatening his only remaining daughter.

"You touch Elle," Cal spat, his eyes burning with defiance, "and I swear—"

The thug cut him off with a menacing laugh. "Oh, we will touch her, Cal. Unless you start being honest with us."

Cal's jaw clenched, his mind racing through a fog of fear and desperation. He was backed into a corner, and lying was second nature to him, even in this dire circumstance. "I already told you, Lucy's phone is gone. Destroyed."

Remy's patience wore thin. He seized Cal by the collar, his grip like iron. "Listen, you scum. We know you're lying. Lucy kept everything on that phone—information that could bury our client, and he paid a large sum o’ money for our services. We like to deliver. So, we want it back, and we'll tear this whole town apart if we have to."

Cal's eyes flickered towards the door, his thoughts scrambling for a way out. But the goon's grip tightened, yanking him back into the harsh reality of his predicament.

"Last chance, Cal," Remy growled, his voice low and dangerous. "Where. Is. The. Phone?"

In that tense moment, Cal's mind raced. He thought of his daughter, of the desperate need to protect her as she tried to protect him. He had to buy time, he had to think. "I don’t know!" he blurted out, his voice trembling. "I… don’t know."

The thug exchanged a skeptical glance with Remy before nodding. "You've got twenty-four hours. If you don't come up with answers, we'll bring Elle here."

As the syndicate members filed out of the room, leaving Cal alone with his thoughts, he sagged against the chair, his heart heavy with dread. The cold sweat that had formed on his brow trickled down his temple, and his hands shook uncontrollably.

He closed his eyes, trying to calm the tumultuous storm raging within him. The memories of Lucy flooded back—her bright smile, her laughter, her dreams shattered by a cruel twist of fate. He couldn't let the same fate befall his only remaining daughter. He had to find a way out of this, but the odds seemed insurmountable.

Hours passed in agonizing silence broken only by the distant sounds of the city outside—a world oblivious to the terror festering in this forsaken basement. Cal's mind raced through a labyrinth of regrets and fears, each turn leading him deeper into despair.

When the basement door creaked open once more, Cal's heart skipped a beat. The heavy thud of footsteps echoed through the dimly lit space as Remy and his men returned, their silhouettes casting elongated shadows against the grimy walls. The flickering bulb overhead bathed them in an eerie light, rendering their expressions unreadable beneath the dance of light and shadow.

Remy's gaze bore into Cal like steel. "Well, Cal, any revelations?" His voice was low and commanding, cutting through the tense silence that enveloped the basement.

Cal's throat felt dry as he searched desperately for words, any words that could appease these dangerous men. His mind raced, grappling with fear and uncertainty. "I've been trying to remember," he stammered, his voice hoarse with anxiety. "But it's all a blur. Please, just give me more time."

The thug standing beside Remy snorted dismissively. "Time's up, old man. We're not in the business of waiting."

Remy's eyes narrowed, his patience wearing thin like fraying rope. "You're testing our goodwill, Cal. That's dangerous territory."

Cal's pulse quickened as he felt the weight of their scrutiny bearing down on him. He knew he was running out of options, but the thought of Elle's safety propelled him forward, a flicker of determination igniting within the depths of his despair.

And then, as if a spark of inspiration had ignited in the darkness, Cal's gaze fell upon the shadows creeping along the walls—the same shadows that had become his silent allies in this harrowing ordeal.

"I remember something," Cal began, his voice steadier now, laced with a glimmer of hope amidst the prevailing fear. "It's a long shot, but... Lucy used to talk about a storage unit she kept for sentimental stuff. Maybe the phone is there."

Remy's eyes narrowed further, skepticism etched into every line of his scarred face. "Don't play games with us, Cal."

"I'm not," Cal insisted, the lie slipping effortlessly from his lips. "I'll take you there. Just... spare Elle."

The thug exchanged a meaningful glance with Remy, their silent communication speaking volumes of the danger that lingered in the air. After a tense moment of deliberation, Remy finally nodded, a glimmer of reluctant acceptance in his eyes.

"Fine, Cal," Remy relented, his voice tinged with caution. "You've got one chance. Lead the way."

Relief flooded through Cal like a rushing tide, though he masked it behind a façade of determination. He knew he was treading on thin ice, balancing on a knife's edge between deception and survival. But for his youngest’s sake, he would navigate this treacherous path with unwavering resolve.

As they unbound him from the rusty chair, Cal's limbs felt heavy with both exhaustion and renewed purpose. He rose to his feet, the cold basement air biting against his skin as he prepared to embark on this perilous journey.

Together, they ascended from the depths of the basement, stepping out into the frigid embrace of the night. The distant sounds of the city seemed muffled, drowned out by the weight of their shared secrets and impending dangers.

Cal led the way through narrow alleyways, empty highways and deserted streets for hours that felt like days, his mind racing with the urgency of their mission. Each step forward carried the weight of uncertainty, a delicate dance between deceit and salvation.

The storage unit Lucy had mentioned existed on the outskirts of town—a forgotten corner obscured by neglect and urban decay. As they approached the weathered metal door, Cal's heart hammered against his chest with a mixture of apprehension and hope.

He fumbled with the lock, the metallic clink resonating in the silence of the night. With a creak, the door swung open, revealing a dimly lit interior cluttered with dusty boxes and forgotten relics.

Remy and his men followed closely behind, their wary eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of deception. Cal's gaze swept over the disarray, his memories of Lucy flooding back with a poignant ache.

"She kept it somewhere here," Cal murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. He moved cautiously through the labyrinth of forgotten treasures, his hands trembling with a mixture of anticipation and dread. He searched desperately, found object after object, but no phone. He knew that the game was up, that his lies had only gotten so far. “I swear, it’s here-” He collapsed in a crumpled, lifeless heap as a gunshot rang out through the hollow space, smoke pluming from Remy’s gun as he blew it off.

“My patience wore thin.” Remy’s sighed, storing the gun back in its holster. He turned to the rest of his team, nodding resignedly. “You lot know what to do.”

Markham poured himself a glass of wine, trying to settle his nerves as he set the table for dinner. Olivia was visiting for the weekend, as she did when no one was at home, per the arrangement with her aunt. Markham’s relationship with Olivia was polite but distant, a delicate balance between the roles of stepfather and guardian. He often struggled to connect with her, unsure of how to bridge the gap that had formed between them over the years.

When Olivia entered the dining room, her eyes brightened at the sight of the beautifully set table. “Wow, this looks amazing, Mark,” she said with a warm smile, taking her seat.

Mark nodded, attempting a smile in return. “Thank you, Olivia. I’m glad you’re here.” He cleared his throat, trying to find the right words to broach the subject that had been weighing heavily on his mind. “How have you been, sweetheart?”

Olivia glanced up from her plate, her expression softening. “I’ve been good, thank you,” she replied politely. “School’s going well. Aunt Isa says hi, by the way.”

“That’s good to hear,” Mark said, trying to hide his disappointment at the mention of Olivia’s aunt. “Listen, Liv, there’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Olivia looked up curiously, her fork pausing midway to her mouth. “Sure, what is it?”

Mark took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. “I’ve been thinking… maybe it’s time for a change. I know you’ve been living with your aunt for a while now, but I’d like you to consider staying with me permanently.”

Olivia’s eyes widened in surprise, and then her brow furrowed slightly. “Oh,” she said softly, setting her fork down. “I… I appreciate that, Mark, but I really like living with Aunt Isa. She’s been taking care of me for so long, and I feel comfortable there.”

“I understand,” Mark replied, trying to keep his tone even. “But I think it would be good for us to spend more time together, to get to know each other better.”

Olivia fidgeted with her napkin, a troubled look crossing her face. “It’s not that I don’t want to spend time with you, Mark. You’re nice to me and everything. It’s just… Aunt Isa has always been there for me. She’s like a second mom.”

Mark’s heart sank a little at Olivia’s words. He had hoped that she would see him as more than just a distant figure in her life. “I see,” he said quietly, hiding his disappointment behind a forced smile. “Well, I want you to be happy, Olivia. That’s the most important thing.”

Olivia nodded, her expression apologetic. “I’m sorry, Mark. I don’t want to hurt your feelings.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Mark said, his voice tinged with sadness. “I just want what’s best for you.”

The rest of the dinner passed in strained conversation, both Mark and Olivia making an effort to keep things light. As they finished their meal, Mark cleared his throat again, summoning the courage to address the inevitable.

“Well, Olivia,” he began, “it’s getting late. I should take you back to your aunt’s place.”

Olivia nodded, pushing her plate aside. “Okay,” she said quietly, her eyes downcast.

Mark stood up and walked around the table to where Olivia was sitting. He placed a hand on her shoulder, trying to convey a sense of reassurance. “Thank you for coming over, Olivia. I always enjoy having you here.”

Olivia looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Thank you, Mark. I’m sorry I can’t… you know…”

Mark smiled sadly, squeezing her shoulder gently. “It’s alright, Olivia. Maybe one day things will be different.”

Olivia nodded, offering him a small, grateful smile. “Yeah. Maybe.”

Mark fetched his keys and jacket, and together they made their way to the door. Olivia grabbed her coat and bag, her movements slow and deliberate.

Outside, Mark held open the car door for Olivia, waiting patiently as she settled into the passenger seat. As he drove towards her aunt’s house, the silence between them was heavy with unspoken words.

When they arrived, Mark pulled up in front of the house and turned off the engine. He turned to Olivia, his expression earnest. “Take care of yourself, Olivia,” he said softly.

Olivia nodded, her eyes shining. “You too, Mark.”

I opened the door, adopting a wide smile as I ignored the mixture of red, blue and green cars, along with a random black sedan, as my eyes focused on Olivia, her golden curls bouncing as she bounded up to me. She threw her arms around me, and I returned it with a laugh. “I missed you too, gumdrop.” I grinned, kissing her hair. “C’mon, I got ice cream.” I led her inside, closing the door with a curt nod to Mark. “What flavour are you feelin’ tonight? Vanilla or mint chocolate chip?”

“How about both?”

“I like the way you think.” I smirked, going to the freezer and pulling out the two tubs. “We’re gonna have this snack before heading to the sheriff’s trailer, because he hosts movie night. That ok with you?” I gave her a soft smile, only willing to go if she was.

However, her eyes lit up and so did the rest of her face, a broad grin spreading on her lips. “Yeah, of course! I still can’t get over the fact that my aunt has movie nights with the sheriff.” Olivia smirked. “Is there something you’re not telling me-?”

“Olivia Autumn Barlowe, where do you get these ideas from?” I passed her a bowl of ice cream with a laugh. “Jenny, Cassie and Carla will be there too.” I gave her a stern look, but couldn’t help but break into giggles again alongside her. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“I do.” I was about to open my mouth, but there was a loud bang on the door. My hand rubbed my exposed forearm from where my plaid shirt’s sleeves were rolled up to the elbows, a small frown on my face as another, more forceful bang shook the doorframe. It didn’t sound like it’d hold, and the many men’s voices from outside told me that this was a situation that I needed to get Olivia out of. I grabbed the keys to the back door just as a look of terror crossed her pretty features, breaking my heart.

“A-Auntie? What’s going on?” She whispered, looking to me with pleading eyes. I walked over quickly, acting on my feet and putting the keys in her hand.

“I don’t know. But you need to go.” I gripped her shoulders tight, my eyes flickering to the door, which was echoing- bang, bang, bang - and making it hard to think as the door rattled on what I knew were now flimsy hinges. “Out of the back door, ok? Our phones are upstairs, so there’s no time to get ‘em. Don’t get in the car, they might see you. Just run, keep on running, you know where Sheriff Arlen’s trailer is. Go tell him what’s happening, and he has backup with him already, ok? I need you to be strong for me and stay calm, alright?” Tears were starting to well up in her eyes, so I hugged her quickly, then kissed her forehead. “Please, sweetie. Run.” And she did what she was told right as the door busted down. I grabbed a knife from the kitchen drawer, ready to attack. Five men rushed in, all younger, taller, and with stronger builds.

There’s no way I was winning this fight.

“There’s Cal Joyner’s little girl.” One of them smirked, stepping towards me. “And she’s got a knife.”

“She’s a pretty little thing.” Another added with a matching wolffish grin. “D’you reckon we should have our fun with her?” The statement made my blood run cold and heart thank my mind over and over that I got Olivia out.

“Not if she’s wielding that pigstick.”

“That won’t be a problem, Yates, we’ll have that out of her hands in seconds.”

“Don’t you dare.” I spoke up, holding the knife out cautiously, trying to remain strong. “Deputy Elle Joyner, Sheriff’s Department. Tell me what you’ve done to Cal.”

“Cal’s got a bullet in his brain, sugar lips.” The one at the front chuckled, stepping forward, and with one clean swipe, his beefy hand knocked the knife out of my hand, another fist connecting with my cheek and knocking me to the floor. My fingers touched my bloody lip gingerly, but I found my back crashing through the glass coffee table, the shards slicing my clothes and skin. My brain tried to compute the pain as I let out a small groan, even more so when the wood of my dining table chair came into view. I rolled over, letting it hit my back with a strangled cry.

Olivia was running like her life depended on it- or her aunt’s, more accurately, sprinting over to Beau’s trailer with her legs pumping and tears flying from her pretty blue eyes.

“Say, is Belle gonna take any longer?” Beau chuckled deeply, his fingers drumming on the chair leg.

“Give her some time, Beau.” Carla chastised. “She has a life.”

“Yeah, Beau.” Jenny smirked, nudging him with a cheeky grin.

“You tell her, Carla.” Cassie added with a giggle, and when Beau looked to Emily for support, she shrugged in a way that said ‘don’t look at me’.

“You inducted my daughter into your little support group.” Beau faux-gasped. “I’ll never forgive you. Never-”

“SHERIFF!” Olivia came bounding up the driveway, and all of them sensed right away that something was seriously wrong. Beau met her halfway, catching Olivia as she practically collapsed into his arms with rasping, shaky breaths, on the verge of having a panic attack.

“Easy, Liv, sweetheart, what’s going on?” He asked with a frown, stroking her hair in an attempt to calm her down. “Shh, easy, talk to me.”

“It’s A-Aunt Isa!” She cried, holding onto him like a lifeline. The sentence made Jenny, Cassie and Carla stand up, the latter gesturing for Emily to stay put. “Some men s-started breaking d-down the door, s-she told me to run; why did I run-”

“I’ve got you.” Beau nodded, sharing a look with Jenny and Cassie. “Your aunt’s gonna be ok. I’m gonna go with Jenny. You stay here, with Carla and Cassie, alright? I won’t let anythin’ happen to her, sweetheart. I promise.” Then he turned to Jenny, grabbing his keys from a side table. “Hoyt, let’s go.”

“I’ll call for an ambulance.” Jenny announced, pulling out her phone as they rushed to Beau’s car, Jenny’s panicked voice and the emergency line operator filling the atmosphere. After a drive that felt like an eternity, they pulled up at their destination and almost leapt out to find the door ajar and shards of glass and splinters of wood on the floor, along with a stain of red that only sent chills down their bones.

“BELLE!” Beau yelled as he ran inside, and the moment he saw my body, lying weak, barely conscious and covered in blemishes and remnants of blows, he fell to his knees beside me. I recognised his face only barely, a short, raspy breath leaving my mouth as I tried to say his name. Was Olivia ok? Is she safe? Of course she is, otherwise Beau wouldn’t have found me- God, my everything hurts. “Hoyt- Hoyt! I need an ETA on the ambulance.” Panic riddled his voice as he checked me over. “I-It’s bad, J-Jenny, it’s bad, she’s bruised all over- what did those bastards do to her?” He looked down at me, my eyes meeting his pretty green ones as he smoothed back my hair from my face. “Stay with me, Deputy. Don’t go passin’ on me now, don’t you dare.”

I tried to whisper out anything at all, but my lungs and/or ribs hurt too much.

“Mornin’ sweetheart.” Beau stepped in with an affectionate smile, sitting down beside my legs, his hand on my knee while his thumb stroked it. “You doin’ better?”

“Physically, yes.” I nodded, sighing dejectedly as I took in the angry red marks on my forearms. He tried to meet my eyes with what looked like concern add even pity flashing behind his.

“And… emotionally?”

“I…” I bit my lip, frowning as I looked down at my hands. The hands of the law, or so I claim. “I just feel useless, Sheriff.”

“Useless?” He looked incredulous, his hand tightening on my knee. “T-The hell you calling useless, Belle?”

I nodded. “I guess I can rest now.”

LMF TAGLIST:

@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry @abramswife

Make sure to like, reblog with feedback and comment! Comment if you want to join the taglist!

#fic rec #beau arlen x oc #beau arlen fic

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winchestergirl2 · 1 day

Text

There's a lot going on here.

Why is her dad carrying around her sister's phone?

What did the kidnappers want with him?

She's not to be messed with is she, going in there on her own and taking down one of the kidnappers before Beau and Jenny got there.

Loved that moment when Beau opened up to her back at hers.

“Isabelle?” I heard the familiar voice of Markham Leeds as he walked in, expression surly and contorting into shock and then sneering once he saw Dean.

Oh, he's back again. What exactly is his problem with Dean?

Uh-oh Olivia is dating the son of her ex!! And Harry is now back in town!

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)

A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies

four - (never) take it easy

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

“There it is. The one thing I couldn’t do and never did: trust you.” I scoffed, and Beau leaned forward, taking the lead.

“See here, Mr Joyner, you are Belle’s father, and I will respect you that much, but a lot’s happened that somehow coincides with your arrival.” He explained with a low, intimidating tone. I glanced towards him, taking in his set jaw and raised finger. “Now, you’re gonna tell your daughter why you came back after all this damn time or we’re gonna find out usin’ methods that you won’t approve of, ie hard questioning and digging into the evidence we have, which I bet will uncover some nasty secrets.”

“It’s good that you elaborated.”

“Yeah, it is. Now, Mr Joyner, you need to speak up before we find out ourselves.” Before Cal could reply, we heard a loud bang and a scuffle, and when my head turned, I saw Donno wrestling a guy with a gun to the ground. Beau turned to me, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Stay put.”

“You know I can’t do that.” I protested, reaching for my own holster, but he grabbed my wrist with a warning look. I wanted to argue, but I knew what he was insinuating. I wasn’t healed yet, so I couldn’t fight.

“Stay. Put.” He then pulled out his gun, holding it up at the assailant. “Sheriff’s department, hands where I can see ‘em!” My eyes were locked on him, ready to jump in and help if need be while Donno was growling at the man for almost pulling a gun on me. I saw Tonya getting up from her chair, pointing behind me with a gasp.

“Elle!” She cried out, looking terrified. “Behind you!” I whipped around only for my head to snap back around, the muzzle of a gun connecting with my temple. My vision went blurry as my head spun, but I could make out an unfamiliar figure in the haze that I instantly tackled blindly, collapsing onto the floor in an undignified heap coupled by what felt like a gigantic needle through the hole in my stomach. I coughed for a moment, my hand covering the area as I was roughly rolled onto my back amid the struggle between Donno, Beau and the assailant. I managed to make out the silver glint of a knife, so I quickly crossed my forearms over one another and held them over my face so I could catch it just in time before it hit my face.

After what was a struggle for a few seconds, the guy seemed to have a change of heart, throwing the knife aside and getting me in the temple again with a gloved fist this time.

Neither of them felt great.

I heard Cal protesting against something, and Beau’s shouts as the former was seemingly roughly dragged away, my vision going from blurry to borderline black as I tried to recall… what the guy looked like. I could remember… grey hair, possibly Mexican… or Hispanic… strong… build… 6’ 4”…

“Belle! Stay with me, damn it! This is Sheriff Arlen, I need paramedics and backup…”

Sunlight hit my eyes, burning my eyelids slightly and forcing me to open them, which happened to be a mistake since it then set my retinas on fire. Or maybe I’m just being dramatic. I groaned, covering my face with my eyes and rubbing them until I had the strength to open them again, adjusting to the light. It had been two weeks since the incident in a diner and an APB had been put out for our kidnapper. Beau initially had insisted on me moving in to his trailer, but upon further evaluation, Olivia would need to come with me and he already houses three people in there. Therefore Beau, Emily and Carla temporarily moved in to my house, thank the Lord I have quite a few spare rooms, to take care of me.

“You’re awake.” Emily was at the door with a smile, holding a glass of water. “Are you feeling better, Elle?”

“Much.” I nodded, sitting up with a grunt. Beau had not let me leave my room for two weeks, bringing every meal to my room, plentiful and seeming like it was following the Eatwell Guide, it was that rich with the necessities. “I’m gonna be on my feet today, Em. Don’t even think your dad can stop me today.”

“Good, ‘cause I was about to tell Beau to let the poor girl stand.” Carla appeared next to Emily, kissing the girl’s hair. A wide smile instantly broke out on my face as I stood up, moving to hug her. “Morning, Elle.”

“Mornin’, Carla.” I hummed, closing my eyes before letting her go. “Always good to have a lawyer on my side.”

“Having you as my client? Gonna be a blast.” She chuckled, lightly tapping my shoulder. “Olivia’s had breakfast and she’s out with her friends at some restaurant that opened up last week. She said she asked you about it and you were all for it, but I wanted to check.”

“Oh, yeah, I let her go.” I nodded with a grin, also laughing. “I had Jen run some background checks before I let her, though.”

“Smart. I’d go with Em myself to make sure she’s with the right crowd, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh, that’s a given, duh, but I do my surveillance from a distance.”

“So you’re also a spy.” Emily grinned, her eyes twinkling, “Just like Daddy.”

“Well, Em, I’m less of a compulsive stalker/spy.” I chuckled, then nudged her. “I won’t tell your dad.”

“Thank you.”

“Yeah, I heard you reopened your sister’s murder investigation.” Carla frowned sympathetically, reaching over to comfortingly squeeze my hand. Emily, however, looked excited.

“Em, let’s try to be a little more sensitive about this subject.”

There it is.

‘Hey, uh, Aunt Isa? I think I might be home later than usual.’

“And… why’s that?” I asked with a smirk, since I heard a boy’s voice in the background. I knew where this was going.

‘There’s a guy. He asked me out.’

“Aha! I knew it, but what’s the guy’s name?”

‘His name’s Tom Hollister. He’s a really sweet guy, auntie.’

“I don’t doubt your judgement, gumdrop. Fine, but be back before dark.” I chuckled, running a hand through my hair while I felt a soaring feeling in my chest. My girl’s growing up so fast. I hadn’t had great experiences with men, but who knows? Maybe Olivia will get the good batch.

‘Yes! Love you, auntie.’

“Love you too, sweetheart. Stay safe.” I cut the call, turning to Beau and Carla with a laugh, my eyes twinkling. “Olivia’s going on a date.”

“You let her date?!” Emily gasped, pointedly glancing between her mom and dad, who didn’t look any degree apologetic, instead chuckled about it.

“You’re not dating until you’re eighteen.” Beau warned, raising a finger but sporting a wide smile nonetheless.

“Aw, c’mon, why?”

“Because you’re still our baby girl.” Carla excused with a glint in her eye. “And we’re overprotective. At this rate, we say you can date at eighteen but it’s gonna bump up to thirty two.”

I was sitting with Poppernak, going through the security footage of the encounter with our assailants. I felt an uneasy twinge in my stomach that I chalked down to being embarrassed due to having been overpowered by a random guy in a a diner.

That wasn’t the only thing that set that twinge off. The attack in the diner was a targeted strike. If somebody had tracked our location to that specific place and ordered to take Cal, he knew something that the guy who attacked me didn’t want to reveal. At any cost.

I squinted at the screen, trying to see if there was anything on Cal or the guy who dragged him away that we could see. While Mo was scrolling through the footage, I noted down any identifying features of the guy I could before handing it to Jenny so she could update the officers on what they’re looking for.

I was tapped on the shoulder by Mo, grabbing my attention as my brow furrowed, spinning on the chair to face the screen. I had thousands of theories running through my head, but I needed to narrow it down as much as I could. As quickly as I could.

“Talk to me.” I sighed, leaning forward so I could see the screen better, my fingers drumming on the table incessantly, my nails making a little tapping noise on the wood that made me feel a lot better, my leg bouncing on the ball of my foot.

Don’t blame me, it’s just a thing.

”Look here.” Mo pointed to Cal’s pocket, where there was what looked like a phone. It was rather old and cracked, with a blue case that had flowers adorning them.

Sunflowers.

I instantly knew whose phone that was, and I realised the reason why Cal had been taken. He had my sister’s phone, which could have the key to finding out who killed her. I leaned forward, gesturing for him to zoom in. “Isn’t something you’d find on an old man, huh?” He continued with a sigh.

”No, it is not.” I shook my head, grimacing. I felt sick to my stomach, but also confused. Why the hell was my father walking around with a dead woman’s phone in his coat pocket? And why did some random mobster want it as well? If he even was a mobster. “That’s my sister’s phone. She got that phone case to remind herself of me. She called me her sunflower, y’know, since they’re the flower of Kansas.”

I couldn’t believe I didn’t see the phone before. It’s the one piece of evidence I need and now it’s in the clutches of someone who’s only going to use it for the worse. Not to bring justice, just goddamn pain.

”Wait. Check this.” Mo showed me the footage from the outside of the Blue Fox diner, where there was a black van that Cal was shoved into, but I could see a blue and yellow rectangle fly a metre before landing in a bush. I sat up; Cal Joyner, you slick son of a gun. “There’s our phone.”

”Lucy’s phone.” I breathed, moving to grab my jacket, slinging it on. I ran a hand through my hair, my throat dry and forcing me to take a long sip of water. “We need to get that thing. As in, we need to go. Now.”

”Woah, hold on.” Mo held up a hand, stopping me with a raised eyebrow coupled alongside it. His eyes flicked to Beau’s office, where I knew if I just stormed out looking like my guns were blazing then he’d stop me in my goddamn tracks. “Beau’s not gonna let you leave.” I was torn. I could value my health and safety and let Jenny handle it, or I could go out on a limb and get that phone myself.

I turned to Mo, grinning sheepishly. I shrugged, my eyes furtively glancing to the door as I took out my keys. “He’ll, uh, he’ll calm down.” And before I could be stopped, I was out of the door and practically sprinting to my car, getting in just as I saw Beau’s figure appearing at the entrance to the department, his yells muffled by my rolled up window. I pressed my foot down on the pedal, pulling out and heading out of the car park. I drove down the road, watching the landscape go by.

My blood boiled, adrenaline pumping in my veins even though it was merely driving a car to get a phone. Except that the phone could possibly be my link to getting the truth about Lucy. I ran a hand through my hair, finding that my phone was buzzing with notifications from Beau. Angry notifications.

Which I ignored.

I pulled up at the diner, getting out and kneeling by the bush, searching desperately through the foliage in search for a phone which seemed to be not there. I cursed under my breath, standing up and resisting the urge to kick my car. But I love her too much, so I refrained from it.

I rubbed a hand over my mouth, a frown darkening my face as I tried to find an alternate way to deal with this. To find Cal and find the phone. I don’t know what it was that made this case so damn difficult, but I was stumped. I usually was able to solve my cases. Half the solved case file boxes were filled by me.

And now? I’m stumped.

“Great. This is great.” I breathed, hands on my hips as I looked to the sky in vain. Damn me and my false friggin’ hopes that something, anything, will show up if I just look at the sky. Then my radio crackled to life, catching my attention.

‘All units in sector seven, we have our assailant. A man by the exact noted description has been spotted south of Reseda Grove. We need all available units on the scene, does anyone copy?’ I heard dispatch announce, and it clocked in my head. I was in sector seven. And I was an available unit. My hand instantly scrambled for my radio, fiddling around at my belt until I found it, holding it to my mouth and turning on the mic.

“This is Deputy Elle Joyner, badge number MD1176, and I copy.” I announced before getting into my car, flooring it as I wildly jerked the steering wheel. I’m still alive, don’t worry.

Beau had heard the announcement on the radio and the response from the very person he needed to stay out of harm’s way, and he cursed loudly, starting to gear up. “Everyone, gear up! Poppernak, lead a team to secure the perimeter, don’t let anyone in or out. Hoyt, you’re with me. I swear, Deputy Joyner’s gonna get herself KILLED!”

From where I was, I reached Reseda Grove, pulling out my gun and putting on a vest which had DEPUTY in bold yellow writing over green. I tied my hair up, springing out of the car and raising my gun, finding myself now a foot away from the man who attacked me in the diner. He was what I estimated to be 6 foot, which meant he had a good five inches on me, which was a problem.

“Elle Joyner.” He smirked, grey eyes twinkling in a way that sent shivers down my spine. I gritted my teeth, flicking the safety off my gun. He had a scar on his lip, which was curled into a snarl after he noticed me cocking my gun. “And I thought a Kansan such as yourself would have some more manners.” His accent was distinctly from New York, which confused me for a moment since we’d identified him as Mexican, but oh well, parade que mordí más de lo que pude masticar. Or maybe that’s not the phrase.

“I’ll have manners once you give Cal back.” I retorted, staring him in the eye and refusing to back down. I didn’t know whether Beau would get here with backup, but I needed to take this jackass down. And fast. “But then again, I can’t give promises, Sicario, but you can give me a name before I kick ass and take it.”

“Name’s Ruiz del Campo.” He chuckled, then the smile slid off his bullish face. “You won’t be getting any more than that, hermosa.”

”I wasn’t born yesterday, asno, I know what hermosa means, I do my Duolingo- we’re getting off track, so stop flirting with me. Where’s my freakin’ dad?! Where’s Cal?” I almost screamed the question, which spooked him and made his finger tighten on the trigger. My foot darted out, sweeping his leg and forcing him to wobble and lose his footing, the gun firing up into the air rather than at any civilians. I thanked my lucky stars that I’d decide to train in kick-boxing, rolling the guy off his ass and onto his stomach, cuffing him as Beau, Jenny and Cassie ran onto the scene, the former two about to yell out-

“SHERIFF’S DEPARTMENT!”

There it is.

Beau managed to get me off del Campo, while Jenny hauled him off to the waiting cops. I was roughly turned around to face a very angry sheriff, who, in my adrenaline rush, just looked like an angry pug. “What were you doing?!” He hissed, his grip like a vice on my shoulder. I glared up at him, gently prying his fingers off me to give him a moment to calm down.

“My job.” I responded instantly, completely and utterly unapologetic. As if I had a reason to be otherwise. I shoved my hands in my pockets, feeling calm and chill despite just having stared down the barrel of a gun. “Why, there somethin’ wrong with that?”

“We’re not having this discussion here. In my car, now. Jenny’ll take yours back to your house.” To say the car ride was silent was an understatement. It felt like even dust falling would set some sort of bomb off, and the last time I saw Beau this furious was when he found out Emily was kidnapped. When we pulled up to my house, we went in through the door-

“Why the hell did you go in there without backup?!” He almost shouted, looking furious. His eyes were wide, green eyes looking like a forest fire and jaw set until he decided to tone it down a little. “Look, I know you have a long-standing relationship with mortal peril and a side piece called danger but you don’t have to go in cahoots with ‘em every time it takes your fancy.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” I muttered to myself before raising my voice so he could hear. “Sheriff, I get that you’re concerned, but this is what I signed up for. I didn’t do it because it was my singular option, it’s my passion. Being here, savin’ lives, and Cal is who knows where.”

“That does not warrant you to hightail it to heaven! I’m not havin’ it!” He paused, breathing out and rubbing a hand down his mouth to compose himself, breathing in before adding something that piqued my interest. “Not again.”

I was about to ask him ‘what the hell are you talking about’, but I employed my brain cells and figured out what he was saying. “Your partner. Back in Houston.” I saw him look away, biting his lip for a split second, and my hand twitched before reaching up. See, I previously had cupping his cheek in mind, but my brain made a split second decision and took his shoulder instead, the moment that my mind made said decision probably warping my hand coordination and making it sign god knows what in ASL. “Sheriff, what happened?”

“Only thing you need to know is that it was all my fault.” Beau whispered, his eyes still averted from mine. I shook my head, gritting my teeth behind closed lips.

“I don’t believe that for a goddamn second.” I refused, scoffing a little. “Please, trust me.”

Beau searched my eyes, his own green ones seeming pleading as he tried to find any reason to not trust me with this information, but I remained steadfast. “It…” He paused, rubbing a hand down his mouth. “I, uh, was tracking down a syndicate. With my partner, Rob Nixon, one o’ the best men I’ll ever meet. When we did track ‘em, we thought one of us should act as a potential buyer for their product. Rob ended up being that guy, and we got him to wear a wire, our team was listening in and I was leading another in a silent infiltration. I didn’t get there in time. They burned him-” His voice cracked, and his now misty eyes tried to seek solace in the ceiling, “they burned him, Belle. Knew he was a cop. By the time I got there, they’d put four bullets in him. Four bullets that I had to explain to his family.”

I instantly melted, gazing at him with nothing but sympathy and heartache. “Sheriff…”

“I don’t want you to go too.” He whispered, shaking his head before taking my hand, kissing the knuckle. I swallowed, blushing slightly. “I don’t wanna look to my side and find that you’re not there. It’s… pretty damn… selfish, but I can’t help it. You brought my girl back to me, Deputy. You did that, and I owe my life to you for that.”

“No, it’s ok.” I nodded, pulling him in gently for a hug, stroking his hair. “I’ll stay as long as you want me to. It’s not selfish, it’s human.” I paused for a second, then sighed. “And I’ll stop being a self destructive idiot, ok? I’ll go in the line of fire once I’ve healed.” I broke away from him, my hand stroking down his cheek, but then I felt that it got awkward, so I dropped the hand back to his shoulder, patting it nervously. “I’m sorry I worried you. I just… can’t seem to stay down for long.”

“Yeah, you’re one stubborn lil’ lady.” He agreed instantly, lightening up a little. “Can’t seem to wrap my head around you, and, trust me, I can get around a wrap just fine.” He patted his stomach for emphasis. “One day you’re as sweet as cherry pie, and when you’re on the field, you’re - hell - you’re like Wonder Woman with a Kansas accent.”

“I’ll take that compliment proudly, because Gal Gadot is gor-geous.” I grinned, tongue tracing my canine like it always did, then it faded into a sort of soft smile as I looked up at him, thoughts running through my head like they were doing the 100 metre sprint at the Olympics. “Out of all people to have my back, especially when I don’t want ‘em to… I’m glad it’s you.”

“Who else, hm?” He nudged me with a snort. “Gotta keep this Southern Belle alive, ain’t that right?”

“Damn straight.”

“Do we have a lock on the countryside?” I giggled at my own joke as I wheeled my chair over to Mo, shovelling instant noodles in my mouth despite them being piping hot. Don’t blame me, there wasn’t anything faster. “Y’know, since del Campo translates to the countryside- it’s fine, just… give me the deets.” I saved myself the embarrassment by stuffing more noodles into my mouth.

“Ruiz del Campo.” Mo showed me a picture of Ruiz with a grimace. “Been taken in for assault, aggravated assault, B ‘n’ E, drunk and disorderly, history in recreational substance abuse, drug trafficking, organised crime…”

“Damn, country boy, you’ve been busy.” I whistled lowly, staring at the list of deeds. “Someone definitely got coal in their stocking this year.”

“He won’t talk.” Jenny groaned, storming up to us with Beau hot on her heels. I swivelled my chair to face them with a curious look. We’d decided that to preserve this guy’s health and his knowledge, I couldn’t be the one to go in. It’s a smart choice; I’d resort to torture.“He keeps on trying to exercise his right to a phone call.”

“He does realise that all that monkey business never happens in real life? That you don’t get a freaking phone call?” Beau added with a scoff, averting his eyes as his hands went to his hips.

“I think that’s him tryna piss you off.” I sighed, leaning back on my chair and clicking the button on my pen over and over. “Seems to me like it’s working.”

“I hate my job sometimes.”

“Did anyone need lunch?” Dean came in, carrying four full plastic bags and sporting a wide as hell smile. He put them down, taking out everyone’s favourite takeout meal and handing it to them.

Beau took his with a boyish grin, chuckling. “I freaking love my job. I take back what I said.”

“Course you will.” I took my takeaway, a Paneer Tikka Masala, from Dean with a grin. “Thanks, De. You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, I was talking Liv for her date with this Tom guy, so I figured I’d pick up some lunch for y’all.” Dean chuckled.

“Where do you find these guys, huh, Belle?” Beau clapped me on the shoulder before taking a large bite of his favourite sandwich from Blue Fox diner. “Mm! S’heaven. Straight heaven.”

“Isabelle?” I heard the familiar voice of Markham Leeds as he walked in, expression surly and contorting into shock and then sneering once he saw Dean. “I was going to ask where Olivia was, but, uh, looks like I walked in at the wrong time.”

“Awkward.”

”Yeah, thanks, man.” The man nodded with a friendly grin, eyes darting around the room as his fingers fiddled in his pocket. “I’m, uh, I’m lookin’ for my son. His name’s Tom Holden. Have you seen him?”

”He went off with a girl, Olivia Barlowe, earlier.” Dan informed, hand running through his hair as he gauged the man’s character. “Why, you have something to tell him? I can pass the message on, y’know.”

”Oh, that’d be great.” He took out a notebook from the inside of his jacket, writing an address in neat handwriting before ripping it out and handing it to Dan with a chuckle, his cerulean eyes twinkling. “Just tell him his old man’s in town, yeah?”

“Does his old man have a name?” Dan raised an eyebrow with a small smirk as he folded the paper, careful not to read the address since it was a breach of privacy.

”Oh! Oh, yeah.” The man nodded, looking down for a moment with a deep laugh before he glanced back up. “Harry. Harry Holden.”

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@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry

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#fic rec #beau arlen x oc #beau arlen fic

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winchestergirl2 · 2 days

Text

Montana’s Thor Odinson

Hahaha, I love this description of Cormac.

Oh, her estranged father is in town. What does he want?

Donno!! Love Donno and am happy to see him make an appearance. I could absolutely hear him in the conversation he had with her.

Oh no, who was that at the diner?! Why were they after her?!

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

A/N - Feedback is my fuel ❤️

three - landslide

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I looked down at my hands, the hands that could’ve stopped everything, stopped her suffering, the hands that were only a flight of stairs and a trip down the hall away. My ignorance at the time was crippling. The cruel thought that Lucy was safe and sound. It resulted in Olivia losing her mom and everything she knew, and having to live with her auntie.

Not that I’m not the best option, but if I’d picked up my metaphorical magnifying glass and looked closer, I’d see. See that things were wrong. Someone was after her, I didn’t know who, but one psycho was out to kill her, and succeeded.

The one of many times someone’s success felt like it twisted my heartstrings. The worst success.

I remembered the desperation that I had when I first investigated Lucy’s murder. The wild look I had in my eyes when I spotted myself in the mirror, and then one like a wounded animal when I wound up battered in a hospital. I didn’t want to go through that again. Not the false hope that I’d get somewhere. I didn’t need it, I didn’t want it, I couldn’t handle it. I’d possibly go feral if I found out the truth, but all the same, Lucy needed me. It was always me and her. When she was nineteen and I was eleven , not wanting to let her go because she was everything I had and more.

I hadn’t had that stable of a home life growing up. My dad cheated on my mom with his secretary and left her when I was three. Mom did the next best thing to dealing with the loss of her husband, which was filling herself brain high with any booze she could find. Lucy had taken the job of taking care of me, and she did a damn good job at it. Even got rewarded with an apple pie, white picket fence life to boot. I couldn’t have been happier for her, because she deserved every bit of happiness she got.

Even if I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable pain of investigating into my sister’s murder, I owed it to her. I needed to bring whoever killed her to justice.

I reached for my phone, dialling the first person that came to mind who’d help me with this case. I bit my lip, jogging my leg as I waited for him to pick up. ‘Hey, darlin’.’ I heard Beau’s voice from the other end, cherry as ever. ‘What can I do for ya?’

“Hey, Sheriff.” I breathed out, looking at the cassette player with stony eyes. “What d’you say to reopening a cold case?”

I slammed a dusty, yet rather small, file down on my desk, with Jenny and Beau gathered around it. “This is what I have from six years ago. My sister, found by me in the backyard, eleven stab wounds in her chest. Cameras were off, no prints, killer didn’t go through the garden as there were no prints. It rained that night, so footprints were washed away.”

“Tough case, huh?” Beau sighed, folding his arms. “No prints, no murder weapon at the scene- the killer ain’t giving you much to work with.”

“No kidding.” Jenny looked over the case files. “Lucy didn’t have any enemies, by what this file says.”

“She didn’t.” I shook my head, sitting on the table. “Luce, she was… an angel, to say the least. Kind to everyone, always optimistic. I’ll be damned if anyone hated her.”

“No motive.” Beau muttered, looking up at me with slightly raised eyebrows. “Could this just be a random crazed psycho?”

“No.” I shook my head again, rubbing my chin. “Can’t be. Whoever it was knew how to get inside the house and through to the back. Only somebody who knew Lucy could do that. Somebody I know or someone she knew murdered her, and I ain’t resting until I find them.”

“Do we at least have any leads?” Jenny rubbed her forehead, looking over to me. “Any at all?”

“The cassette.” I shrugged. “It’s the last thing she left to me, and judging by the sounds behind the voice, it’s Lucy’s 42nd birthday party. I remember it, Mark was doin’ bad karaoke in the living room.”

“So this is essentially a note, but no suicide involved.”

“Somebody was sending threats.” Beau figured out, pointing at the case file with his pencil. “Think about it. Her voice ain’t exactly chirpy in that recording. Maybe a threat was sent, that she was gonna die soon.”

“A necklace.” My head perked up, my fingers snapping. “One of ‘em, it contained a raven’s feather. Or some of it. Lucy was a folklore major.”

“So she’d know it symbolises death and/or loss.” Jenny added, nodding. “That’s a start.”

“That also narrows it down.” Beau nodded, all of us going into a rhythm. “Somebody had to know she’d understand this reference, which also means someone close to her- good work, Belle.” He patted my knee proudly, giving me a broad smile. “At least you’re closer than you were before.”

“Hold on, though.” I held up a hand, frowning as a thought piqued my interest. “If that’s the case, if Lucy wanted to warn me… why now? Why at Olivia’s sweet sixteen?”

“Maybe it was something personal, something important to her.” Jenny shrugged, running a hand through her hair. “Maybe she wanted Olivia’s sixteenth to go smoothly, as if some threat would resurface at that time.”

“That’s what’s stumping me. Which person who we both know would possibly wanna harm my sister? Me, I’d understand, I don’t get on with everyone, but Lucy? Doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“Is Lucy’s phone still kept safe?” Beau asked, deep in thought. “Maybe there’s some voicemails on there.”

“I’ll have to dig them up.” I replied before hearing a ping on my phone. I took it out, seeing the name lighting up on the screen, which made my eyes widen. I hadn’t seen this name in ages, not since eleven years. Not since I was 29, and I don’t know why I saved the number.

“Who is it, darlin’?” Beau frowned slightly, his lips also pouting imperceptibly as his eyes flickered down to my phone.

“Again with the darlin’?” Jenny chastised, and he let out a small noise in protest. My eyes were glued to my screen, trying to figure out if I was seeing things right. Jenny confirmed for me, snatching the phone out of my hand and taking a look at it, her eyes widening when she saw the name. “Cal Joyner.”

“The cheating dad Cal Joyner?”

“Yeah.” I nodded breathily. “He’s… here. In Montana.”

“Your dad in town, the cassette tape, this can’t be a coincidence. If it is, I’ll eat my hat. And trust me,” He chuckled deeply, “I love my hat.”

“There’s also how you can’t eat a hat.” Jenny contradicted with a judging look.

“I’m the sheriff, Hoyt, I will eat my hat if I damn well please.”

“Right, let’s get off the subject of eating hats.” I interrupted with a snicker. “I’ll talk to Cassie, see if I can get her and Denise to maybe research into possible news stories surrounding Lucy’s death. Maybe also get them to help with figuring out why my deadbeat dad is in town. You guys maybe look through the case files or whatever you can scavenge, see if you can find anything worthwhile.” I raised an eyebrow, looking between them expectantly. “Sound good?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

I didn’t find Denise at the desk in Dewell and Hoyt HQ, so I went straight to Cassie’s office, knocking before opening the door to find… Cassie and Cormac mid-make out. They jumped apart, wiping their lips while Cassie got off the desk, trying to act as if nothing happened.

Well, it’s not everyday that you catch two grown ass people making out on a frickin’ desk.

“Woah, Cassie, get some.” I teased, leaning against the doorframe with a grin. “You too, Cormac, haven’t forgotten you. Montana’s Thor Odinson- now, would you be a stud and give Cass and I a mo’?”

“Gladly.” Cormac hurried out, and I closed the door behind him, turning to Cassie with s as chuckle.

She opened her mouth to speak, but I waved her off. “Beau and Jenny won’t hear a thing.”

“Thank you.” She smiled in relief, breathing out with her hand on her chest.

“You’re welcome. Now, we have a bit of a problem.” I frowned, running a hand through my hair. “We’re reopening my sister’s case.”

“Oh, damn.”

“Indeed. We’ll need all the info we can get from you and Denise on the matter. My dad’s in town too, so I’ll have to see what’s up with that.”

“Wait- Cal Joyner?” Cassie raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “Cheated on your mom, left when you were three Cal Joyner?”

“The very same.” I nodded, making a face that said I was feeling awkward. You lot can put that to your imagination. “Yeah, so I have to find out why he’s in town now when evidence from my sister’s case has suddenly resurfaced.”

“I’ll get on that with Denise.”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry I interrupted your getting on with Cormac.” I winked with a smirk, unfazed when she looked at me in exasperation.

“You’re not going to let me live that down, are you?” She sighed.

“No, absolutely not.”

I was sitting on my living room couch at midnight, flicking through my photo album of when I was growing up. Lucy’s broad smile and shining eyes when she saw baby me in Mom’s arms just after I was born. Another my first birthday, and Lucy was helping me blow out the candles. Lucy’s eleventh birthday, the last time Lucy was innocent and unassuming before Dad made off with his mistress. Lucy’s sweet sixteen, where she celebrated with Dean, her current best friend, me, a couple of family members and friends, including Mark, who was our next door neighbour’s son at the time. It was safe to say that Mark had always harboured a deep seated jealousy of Dean.

My eyes landed on a photo of Harry and I at a bar, and my heart felt like it was breaking all over again. The guy’s brunette hair and laughing brown eyes had always pierced my heart in a way that I couldn’t fathom. It hurt to know that those eyes didn’t look at me the way they used to anymore.

Harry was the first and last relationship I had after my sister was killed. After the car crash and I was in a bad place, which I labelled as the ‘withdrawal symptoms’ of stopping my investigation, I found him in an unexpected collision in a mall. He brightened everything somehow, made me feel like the only girl in the world until I found a text in his phone along with a very inappropriate picture.

Rhea: See you tonight, handsome ;)

I couldn’t help but think that he was just pitying me, pretending so he’d get the satisfaction that he helped someone to some extent. But here I was, moping over a guy like I was some hormonal teenager rather than a mature 40 year old. For a relationship that didn’t even feel real at this point.

After that point, I’d sworn off love and men entirely, instead deciding to focus on Olivia. The beautiful little girl who was my last blood reminder of my sister. Well, the last morally sound reminder. For the first three years, in the pursuit of my sister’s murderer, I’d neglected what I really needed to preserve. So I’d set up a rule - that men weren’t my priority.

“Aunt Isa?” Olivia was at the door to the living room, rubbing her eyes tiredly. I sat up, frowning as I saw her looking exhausted but freaked.

“Yeah, sweetheart? It’s late; are you ok?” I asked softly, my motherly instincts kicking in as I saw her trembling slightly. I didn’t wait for a response, setting the album aside and opening my arms. “C’mere, darlin’.” She hurried over, curling up in my arms. I held her tight to me, stroking her hair as I rubbed her back, my chin resting on her head as I let her calm down a bit. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“Nightmare. About mom’s death.”

“You didn’t see your mom dyin’, sweetie.” I kissed her hair lovingly. “It wasn’t real.”

“I imagined it. Filled in the blanks, and it was like I was watching.” I heard her voice tremble, which broke my heart at every quiver. I hated seeing my baby girl upset.

“Oh, Liv.” I whispered, kissing her forehead. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what to say. I’m so sorry you had to imagine that.”

“Is this how you felt?” She questioned timidly, looking up at me, her blue eyes pleading me to be honest. “When you… when you found her?”

I paused, thinking about it. “If I was to describe it, it’d be like my world’s walls were fallin’ down. It was that, plain and simple. Your mom, she was an angel. Like you, she never truly got mad, she cared no matter what you did, she gave a lot of credit where it ain’t due. She took care of me even when I was your age and mopin’ about for no apparent reason, even though she worked a job. She couldn’t be more prouder of you, wherever she is.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” I nuzzled my cheek on her head. “You’re such a beautiful girl, Liv. So smart, and kind, I know for a fact that if your mother was here, she’d never wanna let you go.” I stroked her hair, remembering Lucy. Her smile, her laugh, her tendency to call everyone ‘love’ because she had a damn lot to give herself, her frightened voice when making the tape…

I couldn’t focus on that. Instead, I hugged Olivia tight, focusing on her. She needed to feel safe. Deserved to feel safe, and that was what I could do for her. I started to softly sing the song that Lucy sang Liv when she was a baby, gently rocking her. It was Landslide, by Fleetwood Mac.

“I took my love, I took it down, I climbed a mountain and I turned around. And I saw my reflection in the snow-covered hills 'til the landslide brought me down...”

“Beau!” Jenny scolded while I looked away, starting to internally panic. He… thought Rhea was gorgeous? Did he really? Was Harry justified in leaving me because I wasn’t good enough?

“Thanks, Sheriff.” I sighed in relief, rubbing my face. Jenny patted Beau’s shoulder, giving him a look that said ‘I was about to rip your head off’. “You got me there for a second.”

“I got Hoyt too.”

“Yes, he did.” Jenny nodded, glaring playfully at Beau. “If you’d said that truthfully, no joking, I’d rain down hellfire.”

“Well, I’m glad I was just poking some fun.” Beau smirked, then patted my knee. “You’re gorgeous, Southern Belle. Ain’t no messing around there.”

I was about to smile and give him a compliment back, but I got a call from Cassie, and I picked it up, putting it to my ear. “Talk to me, Cassie.” I said, taking a breath out while a small chuckle threatened to escape my mouth.

‘Hey. Uh, Cormac just spotted your father at the Blue Fox Diner.’

“Cormac, huh?”

‘Yes. Now, we’re keeping an eye on him, but you should get over here quick.’

“Gotcha.” I nodded, then cut the call, turning to Beau. “Sheriff, can I have you as backup? So I don’t blow up at my dad?”

“Yeppers, let’s go meet the man who ruined your life so I can make him feel guilty.” He stood up, slinging his jacket over his shoulders.

“Beau, as be nice as you can.” Jenny chastised, but he shrugged.

“Sorry, Hoyt, no can do. If she hates him,” Beau made finger guns at me, “then I hate him.” He turned the finger guns on himself. “Can’t help it, it’s principle. Now, c’mon, Belle. Let’s meet this dude.”

I walked into Blue Fox diner, Beau rubbing his hands in excitement. “D’you mind if I get one of them there sandwiches?” He looked like a giddy schoolboy, and I rolled my eyes with a smile and nodded. Beau was always a sucker for Donno’s sandwiches. As he practically skipped off to get one, I found Donno staring at me. I locked eyes with him, then he broke into a small smile.

“Elle.” He said in a deadpan voice that did not match his face, but I’d come to know over the past two months that Donno was a lot more compassionate than he let on.

“Donno.” I grinned, feeling more at ease. “Nice to see you again.”

“You too.” His eyes went down to my stomach, where I found that my hand was resting protectively over my healing bullet wound. “You were shot.” His eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you ok?”

“I was shot, good eye.” I nodded, chuckling as I looked down at my feet. “But hey, I’m doing fine. Healing.”

“Good. I don’t like seeing you hurt.” Then he pointed to a booth, where a balding man was sitting. “That’s your dad. If you’re looking for him.”

I gave him a genuine smile, my eyes furtively glancing to that booth. “Thanks, Donno.”

“You and Sheriff. You make a good couple.”

I didn’t really know what to say to that. “Uh… thank you, but we’re not a couple.” And with the awkwardness now in play, I turned on my heel and met up with Beau, who was now holding a sandwich and munching on it. I nudged him, nodding to the booth which Donno had led me to, and he clocked Cal instantly. His eyes narrowed, and he swallowed his bite as we sat down. “Cal Joyner.”

“Can I help you?” He asked, looking between Beau and I with a confused expression.

“Sheriff Beau Arlen, sir.” Beau introduced coldly, his eyes steely as he looked at my father with pure disdain in his eyes. I’d mentioned my family history to him, which made him have a deep seated hatred with my dad.

“Deputy Isabelle Joyner.” I added, which, as expected, made Cal’s eyes widen as he sat up straighter, a wide grin cracking on his face.

“Isabelle?” He whispered, tilting his head as he scanned me. “You’re… oh, God. It’s really you. My little girl.”

“Back up for a moment, cowboy, I’m not here for a family reunion.” I frowned, drumming on the table with my fingers. “I’m here to know why you’re in town. My last contact with you was eleven years ago, and that was on a voice call.”

“It was my granddaughter’s sixteenth birthday.” He excused, looking at me incredulously while his fingers played with his collar, and I locked on the mannerism immediately. “I had to visit, right? But this town’s so big, i-it’s hard to find anybody-”

“You’re lying.” Beau pointed out, expression unchanging. Cal turned to him with an outraged expression.

“Excuse me, young man?”

“Flattered, but I’m forty. Ain’t that young.”

“He’s right, Cal. You’re lying.” I frowned, my fingers still tapping out an insistent rhythm on the table. After all these years, he’d had a character arc going from scumbag to scumbag.

“Isabelle.” Cal gasped in disbelief. “Cupcake, you’ll believe this man over your father?”

“Not to be cheesy, but this man is one of the most noble men I know, so I’m sure I can trust him over a man who’s been out of my life for thirty seven years.” Cal was ready to convince me otherwise, but I held up my hand. “You’re fiddling with your collar. First sign of anxiety and possible lying. Big Sky is rather a small place, everyone knows everyone, so I don’t see how it would take you long to find me. Third, defensiveness. Trying to detach me from someone I trust- so tell me, how can I trust you?”

“You can’t.” He whispered, but his eyes, which I shared (to my disgust), looked into mine with a silent plea. Which I ignored.

“There it is. The one thing I couldn’t do and never did: trust you.” I scoffed, and Beau leaned forward, taking the lead.

“It’s good that you elaborated.”

After what was a struggle for a few seconds, the guy seemed to have a change of heart, throwing the knife aside and getting me in the temple again with a gloved fist this time.

Neither of them felt great.

“Belle! Stay with me, damn it! This is Sheriff Arlen, I need paramedics and backup…”

LMF TAGLIST:

@deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @nancymcl @winharry

Let me know if you want to join the taglist, and do reblog or comment with your feedback, I’d appreciate it! Comment if you want an author’s cut :)

Love, Arty 💕

#fic rec #beau arlen fic

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winchestergirl2 · 2 days

Text

Finally, after a busy week got time to catch up on this series.

I caught sight of myself in a mirror- tired, worn out, almost identical to who I saw six years ago in a hospital mirror, minus the cuts and bruises.

Oh... what happened to her back then?

Aw, she had a lot of visitors at the hospital. In the words of Beau...

I like the idea of the shoebox... that's really sweet. Oh, there's a mystery tape in there! Is that going to reveal some of the mystery of what happened to her sister?

Beau’s hand automatically covered mine, a subtle gesture that told me that he was there.

Can see him doing this... silently offering his support.

The end if the tape recording...

it was always you and me. You... and me.

Is that a little Spn Easter egg there?

“last time I investigated my sister’s murder, I ended up on the tail end of a hit ‘n’ run.” I exhaled the breath, “Ain’t my finest moment.”

Ah is that what happened to her six years ago?

“Isabelle.” Markham slid into the seat in front of me, making me roll my eyes oh-so-obviously in hope it would ward him off like salt does a ghost or demon.

Urgh... this guy doesn't give up, does he? I did smile at the salt line.

"What d'ya say to reopening a cold case?"

Ooooh 👀

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to cafekitsune)

A/N - feedback is my fuel :)

two - sunflower

PREVIOUSLY ON LMF:

I crept down the stairs, treading light in fear of startling Will. I gently tried the door, hearing a little girl whimpering. Then I spotted a middle aged man holding a gun, and a small brunette girl hugged my legs, terrified.

“It’s ok.” I whispered, training my gun on Will Brown. “It’s ok, sweetheart. As for you,” My eyes focused on the man, “Sheriff’s department, put your hands where I can see ‘em-” He fired, and my trigger was pulled in a quick response, aiming for his shoulder while his bullet got me clean in the gut, which was caused by me moving to protect Harriet at the same time. The little girl screamed, while Beau and Jenny started yelling from upstairs. I collapsed against the wall, sliding down as Harriet crawled up to me, looking terrified.

“He hurt you.” She whispered, crying, but I shushed her and brought her head to my shoulder, ignoring the riddling pain in an attempt to soothe this little girl.

“Hey, it’s-” I was overcome by a cough as my hand moved to stem the flow of blood, “it’s ok, sweetheart. Perfectly fine, you’re safe, ok?” I stroked her hair, closing my eyes briefly as the red liquid stained my fingers. My head spun from how damn painful it was, like a thousand daggers piercing one spot on me, driving in slowly. “Just calm down for me, my friends are coming.”

As if on cue, Beau and Jenny rushed in, and once they realised that my attacker and Harriet’s kidnapper was downed, their attention turned to me. Beau instantly knelt in front of me while Jenny checked up on Will, his expression freaked out and pale. “Jesus- Jesus holy Christ, Belle, we’re gonna need a paramedic. Hoyt, call it in, now!” Then he turned back to me, putting his hands over the bullet wound to put pressure. I coughed slightly, hissing, but I kept stroking Harriet’s hair, not wanting her to get too scared.

“Just get her out of here.” I nodded to Harriet. “I’ll hold on, just keep her safe.” My bloodied hand reached out to grip Beau’s bare forearm. “Take her home.”

NOW:

The world around me turned from black to blurry colour as I opened my eyes, the cold breeze of somewhere unfamiliar hitting my face as I groaned softly. My finger twitched, something heavy clamped onto it, making me let out a small, admittedly pathetic whine of confusion. My head hurt slightly, and there was a bearable throbbing pain in my stomach. I saw a woollen blanket over me, the room smelling of antiseptic and the walls painted blue and white with telltale plastic chairs and tables beside the bed, along with monitors beeping with my vitals on display on either side of me. The tables had flowers and small presents on it. The hell would someone be thinkin’ to give me all this? My head fell back against the pillows piled up behind my head as I registered where I was.

The hospital.

“God, it’s been a while since I was in one of these.” I grunted to myself, then I found a nurse standing at the door. She smiled upon seeing me awake, instantly coming over to take the tube out that was inserted into my arm.

“You’re awake, Deputy Joyner.” She chuckled, looking at me in admiration. “My name’s Lydia, I’m your nurse. Your vitals seem stable, so I can report back to Dr Jones and also notify your visitors to come and see you, if that’s fine with you.”

“How long have I been out?” I asked, coughing slightly. I felt at ease around Lydia, her friendly disposition making the fact that I had a bullet wound in my stomach a lot more bearable. I caught sight of myself in a mirror- tired, worn out, almost identical to who I saw six years ago in a hospital mirror, minus the cuts and bruises.

“Six days. You suffered from blood loss, so it’s understandable.” The information almost made my heart shatter. It was Liv’s birthday tomorrow, and had I not woken up today, her auntie would be in hospital when she was needed the most. I turned to Lydia, nodding slightly.

“A-Alright. Who’re my visitors?”

“Quite a few, actually. There’s Jenny Hoyt, Emily Arlen, Cassie Dewell, Denise Brisbane, Beau Arlen, Olivia Barlowe and Dean Barlowe.” I wasn’t surprised that Mark wasn’t on the list, but I smiled anyway, knowing that I’d be seeing one of my best friends, Dean, after a long time.

“Let ‘em in.” I grinned, and she nodded, leaving. A minute later, the room was now full of every person on that list, all of them exclaiming in relief that I was ok, making me laugh. “Guys, I’m ok.”

“The hell you are, you had a bullet in you!” Dean scoffed, though there was a wide grin as he came over and hugged me cautiously. I patted his back, looking him in his green eyes with a smile.

“Well, now I am. Nice to see you, pal.”

“I’d say it’s nice to see you, but you’re in a hospital bed, so I’m gonna say it’s nice to see you alive.”

“Don’t hog her, dad.” Olivia pouted, practically shoving Dean away (albeit half-heartedly) before bear hugging me in a way that I wouldn’t get hurt. I stroked her hair, kissing it as I took a deep breath out.

“I’ll always have time for my baby girl.” I grinned, rubbing her back as I felt her shaking and holding back tears. “I’m ok, sweetie. I’m safe.” I shushed her gently, my eyes closing as I rested my cheek on her head. I opened them, looking up to Beau and Jenny with a small nod. Then my eyes landed on Emily, and I chuckled softly, raising my hand slightly from Liv’s back. “Hey, kiddo.”

“Hey, Elle.” Emily grinned, waving. I sent her a smile in response, my eyes glancing to Beau briefly before back at his daughter.

“Givin’ your dad any trouble?”

“No, no trouble.”

“Good.” I then let go of Olivia, kissing my niece’s forehead before looking at Jenny, Denise and Cassie, who all looked sympathetic. “Y’all need to stop lookin’ at me like that. I’ll be up and about in a few hours, like hell I’m missing my girl’s sweet sixteen.”

“You need to rest up, Belle.” Beau interjected softly, gesturing to me. “You took a bullet to the gut.”

“I’ll rest up when I’m dead.” I joked, moving to sit up, and Beau, with his Southern gentlemanliness, instantly stepped forward to make sure I didn’t strain myself.

“Easy, easy.” He helped me sit up, pulling the blanket further over me. “Don’t push yourself, ok?”

“You got sent presents.” Cassie pointed to the flowers and small gifts. “The Browns were ecstatic that you brought their daughter back.”

“So they sent over some beautiful forget-me-nots.” Jenny smiled, coming over to pat my shoulder. “We’re so glad you’re ok.”

“Bo-Bo, she deserves a raise.” Denise snickered, looking at Beau and waggling her eyebrows.

“Shush, Denise, I’m doing my job.” I chuckled. “The one I signed up to do, remember? You’re bound to get a bullet or two out there.”

The next day, it was Olivia’s birthday, and I’d gotten myself discharged from the hospital so I could be there for my baby girl. I had to wear a button-up dark blue plaid shirt, since that was easier to get on with a hole in your stomach, along with some comfy jeans. I was looking at a photo of my sister, Lucy, who was eight years older than me. Even so, she treated me like I was her everything, and she was mine too.

“Hey, Luce.” I whispered, my thumb rubbing over her broad smile. It was almost like she was here with me, with that twinkle in her blue eyes that we shared and her brunette hair that was cropped at her chin but still somehow fell in beautiful waves that made her look ethereal. “It’s been a while. Six years, to be exact, and I miss you. Dean misses you, Mark does, Liv especially. She’s grown up to be so… so beautiful, so you.

You’d be so proud of her, Luce, she even has your brains and we’re all the better for it.” I laughed a bit, then looked back. “I wish you could see her, I really do, but I hope you’re watching. Wherever you are. Love you.” I kissed my hand, pressing it to the frame while my memories with her flashed in front of my eyes like a film reel. “I love you so much.”

“Aunt Isa?” I heard from the door, turning to see Olivia. She looked stunning, wearing a pretty blue sundress that was decorated with yellow flowers, her hair done up with a matching blue flower clip and some yellow flats.

This was my sister’s daughter.

“Liv, honey.” I smiled broadly, going to hug her immediately. “You look gorgeous. Absolutely beautiful.”

“Really?”

“Really. If I made a daughter from scratch, I’d want her to be you.” The words made a goofy smile appear on her face, and she hugged me again quickly. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

“Thanks, auntie.”

When I pulled away, I stroked her cheek before remembering something. “Oh! Uh, your mom, before she died, she had a shoebox that she wanted to give to you on your sweet sixteen.”

“A…” Liv’s eyes narrowed, “shoebox?”

“Sounds lame, I know. But…” I hurried over to look underneath my bed, pulling out a grey shoebox with ‘Olivia’ written in Lucy’s neat handwriting. I passed it to her for her to open. Olivia took the box with slightly shaky hands, opening the top.

Inside were multiple cassette tapes, eleven when I counted, of Lucy’s favourite songs, along with a couple of first edition books and pieces of her jewellery. Necklaces, rings, at the forefront a charm containing a raven’s feather. The jewellery were mostly silver, but the few gold ones I recognised were from her weddings. Her engagement rings along with a golden locket that Dean had given her. Along with photos of Olivia growing up until she was nine years old.

But something caught my eye.

I saw one of the eleven cassette tapes had a word that I recognised all too well.

Sunflower.

“That’s me.” Liv nodded, looking between Beau and I. “And you must be Aunt Isa’s favourite sheriff.”

“While I appreciate it, I’m the only sheriff.”

“Exactly.”

“Something’s up, right?” He frowned, folding his arms and tilting his head. “Talk to me, Belle.”

“Or something that got mixed up in the wrong box.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Beau agreed, then his eyes landed on the framed photo of my sister and I. “That’s Lucy, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“She looks just like her sister.” He rubbed my arm comfortingly, the backs of his fingers grazing my skin. “How much older was she?”

“Eight years.” I replied softly, leaning slightly into his touch, even though I didn’t quite register it.

“Ah, so she’d be lordin’ it over us if she was still alive. Even a forty-year-old sheriff can’t escape the clutches of an older sister.”

My head snapped forward, glass breaking and flying to the left, cutting my cheek as the seatbelt tightened on my chest. My forehead banged against the wheel, a cry escaping my mouth-

“Hey, Deputy.” Beau’s low timbre snapped me out of it again, I looked into his warm green eyes, the ones I’d grown to trust with my life. “You doin’ ok?”

“I… yeah.” I nodded, cracking a smile. “Let’s go celebrate my baby girl’s birthday, hm?” Then I started making my way downstairs, taking the cake from a side room before emerging into the kitchen/dining room and setting it on the counter. Carla, Mark, Dean, Poppernak, Jenny, Cassie, Denise, Cormac (surprisingly) and Emily were all there, and let out a loud cheer upon seeing me up on my feet.

“There she is!” Jenny grinned, pointing to me.

“Deputy of the Month.” Poppernak added with a smile.

“Pops, what did Sheriff say about sucking up?” I winked before going over to hug them each, reaching Carla, who I smiled at happily. “Carla, it’s so good to see you.”

“You too.” She hummed, patting my back before looking me in the eye. “Beau told me about the shooting; are you ok?”

“Perfectly fine, just a few surface scratches, not enough to down me.” I chuckled, then turned to the cake, unboxing it quickly. It was a chocolate cake with vanilla icing and caramel drizzle, and it had ‘Happy Birthday Olivia’ in swirling chocolate piping. I kissed Olivia’s temple, patting her shoulder as I whispered in her ear. “Your mom’s necklace suits you.”

“Hey, kiddo.” Mark walked over with a smile I knew was forced for Olivia’s sake. “Isabelle.”

“Markham.”

“I got Olivia’s present.” He held out a gift-wrapped box, which I put to the side. “Look, you must be really tuckered out from the bullet. I could take Liv for until you get better-”

“I think I’m good.” I smiled briefly, nodding curtly. “I can take care of other people even with a bandage on me. But, uh, thanks for offering.”

He lowered his voice so Olivia couldn’t hear. “I don’t appreciate you keeping my daughter from me. This is why I made the custody claim.”

“Can we not talk about this on my niece’s birthday?” I asked in clipped tones, but I still put on a smile. “I’d hate to dampen everyone else’s parade with your half-assed smiles and trivial personal matters.”

Mark’s grey eyes bore into me for a moment, but then I felt the looming presence of Beau behind me, which seemed to prompt him to back off.

Jenny, Cassie, Beau and I sat down in front of a cassette player once everyone had cleared out. I held the tape between my fingers, trembling slightly as I wanted to find out what Lucy wanted to tell me. Or if it was all in my head.

“When you’re ready.” Jenny patted my back, giving me the strength I needed to put the tape in, shutting the compartment with a click and pressing the play button. The tape whirred, a voice crackling to life. Lucy’s voice.

‘Hey, sunflower.’ It was her. Clear as day, exactly how I remembered her from six years ago. Beau’s hand automatically covered mine, a subtle gesture that told me that he was there. Her voice was shaky, unsure, nothing like the honeyed tones and sweet, soft syllables that I’d known since I was born and even before that. ‘I don’t know if you’ll ever hear this, but I want you to know that I love you. I… I had to tell you somehow, but things were getting worse. Much worse, but I didn’t want to worry you. You were so happy with Jack, and I miss you. I guess after a while it hit me. That not having you around makes things that much harder, because it was always you and me. You… and me. Never forget that.’

“Luce.” I whispered as the player clicked, telling me that the recording was over. “What were you hiding from me?”

“I’m so sorry, Elle.” Cassie sighed, rubbing my shoulder.

“My apologies, sweetheart.” Beau rumbled in agreement while Jenny pressed her cheek to my other shoulder to give me comfort. My breath was shaky, as the reality dawned on me like the sun on a night sky when it was the crack of daylight.

My sister’s murder case wasn’t as open and shut as I’d initially thought, and it terrified me.

I woke up in a hospital, panting and spotting the angry scarlet bruises and cuts-

“Belle.” Beau’s voice lulled me out like it always did, and I held onto that sound- his deep, coaxing words that I couldn’t help but relax to - like a lifeline.

Like the only lifeline I had.

“Yeah, I’m with you, just…” I took a deep breath in, “last time I investigated my sister’s murder, I ended up on the tail end of a hit ‘n’ run.” I exhaled the breath, “Ain’t my finest moment.”

I scrolled through Instagram, since Olivia had taught me how to use it over a long and chaotic three hours, and the first thing I conveniently saw was my ex boyfriend Harry McIntyre with his pretty redhead girlfriend, the one who he cheated on me with. The lights of the bar illuminated my drink in purples, greens and blues, and I was beginning to enjoy the silence and tranquility of drinking alone.

“Isabelle.” Markham slid into the seat in front of me, making me roll my eyes oh-so-obviously in hope it would ward him off like salt does a ghost or demon.

It didn’t work. Just. My. Luck.

“Markham.” I replied coolly, sipping my beer as a thousand thoughts ran through my head about how I should stay calm and not deck this man in the face just to honour and respect my elder sister’s memory. “What can I do for you?”

“I’m not exactly going to be subtle or quiet about this, Isabelle.” He frowned, leaning forward slightly. “I am Olivia’s father, and you need to give custody over to me.”

“And I’m not gonna be subtle or quiet about this either, Markham.” I retorted, my mouth set in a thin line. “Lucy left me as Olivia’s legal guardian in her will. I plan to keep it that way. And, mind you, she’s your stepdaughter. I’d rather let Dean be her legal guardian.”

“I don’t trust Dean.”

“You don’t trust anyone!”

“Look, he just doesn’t come off as the good guy to me.” Mark persisted, but I took a sip of my beer and shook my head, scoffing. The audacity of this man.

“And you do?” I frowned, tilting my head in confusion and partial anger.

“I never said that.”

“Sounds like you did.”

“I just think Olivia would be safer with me.”

“Ok, Mark, let me make this very clear.” I smiled, but not the usual one. It was rather… menacing, because my eyes glinted dangerously. “I don’t want my night of peaceful drinkin’ to be ruined. You almost rained on a sunny day when you tried to bring this up at my niece’s birthday party. I’m not giving Olivia up. That girl means the world to me, and I ain’t keen on sending her to you. I do that when I’m on duty, but when I’m not, she’s with me. And it’ll stay that way, y’hear?”

Mark looked like he was about to argue, but my look silenced him. He shrank back, then got up and instantly went out the door. I laughed slightly, gesturing for a shot of tequila from the bartender. I’d had this conversation with Markham before, and it never, never ended in a mutual, calm agreement.

‘You… and me. Never forget that.’ I played that sentence over and over, listening to the quake in Lucy’s voice that only deepened the guilt in my gut to the point where it felt like the Mariana Trench. I remembered when the only expression on her face was pure happiness, and I could never understand why she was so optimistic, or even how she maintained it. All I knew was that I loved it. Too much, sometimes, to the point where Lucy was my everything and I was hers, in the best way possible.

It was always you and me.

It was, wasn’t it?

The one of many times someone’s success felt like it twisted my heartstrings. The worst success.

Even if I didn’t want to deal with the inevitable pain of investigating into my sister’s murder, I owed it to her. I needed to bring whoever killed her to justice.

“Hey, Sheriff.” I breathed out, looking at the cassette player with stony eyes. “What d’you say to reopening a cold case?”

LMF TAGLIST:

@deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @nancymcl

PREVIEW OF CHAPTER THREE

#fic rec #beau arlen fic

47 notes · View notes

winchestergirl2 · 2 days

Text

I was not expecting that ending. This is beautifully heartbreaking

Stay With Me

A Supernatural Story

~Dean is into his second bottle of whiskey, desperate to drive his problems away. But he knows deep down, the booze isn't what he truly needs...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

1,390 Words

Warnings: Bittersweet Angst

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

In one fluid motion, he cracked the seal on the new bottle of whiskey and plopped back down into his chair. The old seat groaned and the wheels rolled back a bit, sliding with the force of his weight over the polished floor.

Dean poured himself another healthy shot and stared down into the glass, enjoying how the light from the glowing table beneath set the crystal aflame. His lips turned in a half smile and he sighed.

“If you hold it up to the light at the right angle, you can see a rainbow.”

Y/N’s voice hit his ear and he lifted the glass to his lips, smiling even wider as she came into view.

Dressed in his old green flannel and seemingly nothing else, she leaned against the archway, arms and bare ankles crossed. He looked up and licked a drop of drink from his lips, savoring the taste and the way she looked. Her hair was a beautiful mess, the day’s makeup smudged around her eyes like she had meant it to look that way. Her mouth still held a faint stain from her faded lipstick and she pouted as he stared, driving his mind towards unholy thoughts.

“Rough day?” she asked, pushing off the tiles to walk slowly towards him.

“You should know,” he sighed around the rim of the tumbler. “You were with me.”

Y/N nodded and pulled out the chair across from him. “True.”

He eyed her over the glass, loving the way she sat down so delicately only to slump against the back of the chair. She leaned back and kicked her feet up onto the map, toes casting a shadow over Brazil.

“But really, it wasn’t that bad,” she teased. “Not bad enough for a second bottle of bourbon, anyway.”

“It’s whiskey,” he corrected.

She shrugged. “Same thing.”

Dean shook his head and set the glass down, fingers lingering on the sharp edges of the design. “Not true. Bourbon is always whiskey, but whiskey ain’t always bourbon. This is just straight up, get ya drunk, forget your life for a few hours whiskey.”

She knocked her feet off the table and turned to face him head on. “And why would you want to forget your life, Mr. Winchester? What’s so horrible lately that you’d want it to go away?”

He laughed sadly, bowing his head, avoiding her eyes. “Oh, you know me. Just being overdramatic.”

Y/N leaned forward and set her clasped hands in front of her. The ring he’d given her glinted in the warm golden light from below and Dean’s gaze was locked on the antique silver and brilliant red stone.

He remembered when they saw it in that little shop outside Paramus. The old hippie behind the counter told them that carnelian was special, used for protection and to ward off evil spirits. Y/N had laughed so brilliantly when she heard that, rolling her eyes at the thought of a cheap little ring keeping the demons away. Her smile had been so beautiful that Dean doubled back later that day and purchased the ring for her.

She never took it off.

“Dean Winchester, you are never overdramatic,” she asserted. “Medium dramatic, sure. A little crazy sometimes? We all are. But never overdramatic. Under dramatic if anything.”

She winked and Dean’s shoulders relaxed, his heart melting for her like it did every time she was close by. He was quiet for a long moment, just studying her face. Memorizing the way the lights and shadows played on her cheeks, the unique line of her nose, the fan of lashes curved over her pretty eyes. She was engraved in his mind, her face always hiding just behind his closed eyes.

“Under dramatic, huh?” He took a sip and let the whiskey burn his tongue a bit before swallowing. His mouth was mostly numb by now, but the little bit at the roof of his mouth still felt and that feeling needed to be punished.

“You know I’m right,” she grinned and sat back. “I always am.”

Dean chuckled and drained the glass. “Sure are.”

It was an old joke between them. She was always right no matter the situation, no matter the topic being discussed. The unwritten rule was that even when wrong, Y/N was always right. She also seemed to win every single competition and argument. A smile could get her out of trouble, a pout would break him enough to roll over and let her win. Every single time.

“You’re damned right, Winchester. I’m always right.” She dipped her chin and stared at him, gorgeous eyes peeling back the mask he so often hid behind. “So, spill. What’s wrong?”

Dean licked his lips and tried to look away. “I’m fine.”

She clicked her tongue. “Bull. What’s going on?”

Again, he tried to tear his eyes away, but he was locked in her gaze, trapped by her voice. “Nothing.”

With a huff, she stood up and kicked the chair away with her right foot. It coasted across the floor until it hit the wall and spun around on itself.

Slowly, she walked around the table and perched on the edge next to him. He closed his eyes for a second, breathing in the sweet smell of her. Faint coconut and something sugary filled his senses and Dean leaned back with a squeak of antique coils.

Y/N reached for his glass and Dean watched as she lifted it to her lips, held her breath, took a long sip. She shivered as it burned down her throat and coughed gently.

“This is terrible,” she laughed, setting the tumblr back down.

He nodded. “It’s not great.”

“So, what’s got you trying to kill your liver with the worst fucking whiskey I’ve ever tasted?”

She wiggled a bit to get more comfortable, spreading her knees just enough to touch his leg with her toes. He melted into the touch and fought back a fresh wave of tears.

He knew she wouldn’t let it go until he confessed, knew she’d keep on teasing and prodding until he gave her what she wanted. But he couldn’t say it aloud, couldn’t let the words leave his head and fly out into the world.

If he did, she would leave.

He needed her there, just for a little while longer.

Needed to smell her coconut lotion, feel her toes on his thigh, see her sweet smile. He needed to hear her say his name in that sweet, secret tone she only used with him.

A single tear slipped through his defenses, sliding carelessly down his cheek.

Y/N gasped under her breath and reached for it, wiping the wet away with the soft pad of her thumb. “Oh, baby… it’s ok.”

Before she could pull away, Dean grabbed her wrist. He wrapped his fingers tight around her arm and held her there, letting her heat fill his mind, soothe the pain.

“It’s not OK, Y/N/N,” he whispered. He closed his eyes and took a breath, one last drink of her air, her being. “I- I don’t want you to go.”

She leaned forward, dropped a kiss to the top of his head. “I have to, Dean. You know that.”

Drunken tears flowed freely; his throat closed tight. “Please,” he begged, close to choking on his grief. “Stay with me. Just a little bit longer…”

Y/N sighed and slid down off of the table, her hand still locked in his. “I’m sorry, baby. I have to go.” She chewed her lip and smiled softly. “But I’ll always be with you. I promise.”

Green eyes rose to her face. She was haloed in something brighter than the Bunker’s lights, something sacred, some glow cast down from Heaven.

“Please… Stay with me.”

Her image began to fade but her smile never did.

Dean closed his eyes, kissed her hand, whispered her name into the empty room.

She was gone again, drawn back into his memory, a ghost only in his whiskey addled mind.

He knew she wasn’t really there when she appeared- he’d set the pyre ablaze himself. But still, whenever he met the bottom of a bottle, he’d dream her up and feel her spirit around him. Nights like these he wondered if maybe, if somehow… she had stayed with him.

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!) @alwaystiredandconfused @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @deans-baby-momma @deanwinchesterswitch @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @impalaspixie @jackles010378 @kazsrm67@k-slla @leigh70 @lyarr24 @nancymcl @peachy-vans @pizzagirlxnsfwx @rachiem4-blog @sexyvixen7 @suckitands33 @the-wounded-healer05

#fic rec #dean winchester fic #dean winchester xreader

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winchestergirl2 · 2 days

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I really enjoyed this. It's an interesting idea that I think fits in well with Ben’s thoughts/ ideas regarding 'The Blue Lady'.

The Road to the Good Place

Fandom: Dark Angel Character: Ben | x5-493 Word count: 1414 Warning: Angst, broken promises, talk of death and violence A note: From the Fanfic Lounge weekly challenge prompt: Your character gets to heaven only to find that the judgment is entirely based on how many promises they've broken.

Ben remembers hearing the Manticore guards closing in on them in the forest while he was fighting with Max. He threw some mean blows, but he didn’t really want to hurt her; he just wanted to be done. With everything. He barely registered the hurt when his knee snapped backward. He didn’t really care about living in the outside world. He tried to fit in. For years he tried, though nothing was as he had imagined. Life in the real world was hard for everyone, especially for an awkward and isolated child. But Manticore was worse.

The roar of the helicopter in his ears, as loud and clear as his heartbeat, meant the end for him. He asked his sister to not let them take him back and he's quite sure she did that last favor for him, even if he probably didn't deserve it.

He cannot see Max at his side anymore or hear the helicopter, but he swears he hears her cry softly in the distance, the sound fading. She made him talk about the Good Place just before the world disappeared. Maybe that’s where he is right now.

In the Good Place, nobody gets yelled at, and you can stay in bed as long as you want in the morning. Even if you are a child soldier turned serial killer.

The morning sun shines brightly, almost blinding him. He rubs his eyes with his fists, as he did as a child, then blinks to focus on the scenery around him. He is not in a bed, yet he is lying on his back on something soft. The undergrowth of a different forest cushions his frame and no part of his body aches. Max did it; she stopped him from spiraling further down the rabbit hole of insanity and prevented Manticore from capturing him.

Ben arches his neck back to drop his head to the ground, smiling at the bright sky and the nature around him. This must be the Good Place, where all sins are washed away and the Blue Lady provides for those who believe in her.

He can see a stream flowing gently a few steps away and on the surface of the lazy water he sees the reflection of a bright blue light. Could it be Her?

He swiftly rolls into a sitting position to catch a glimpse of the Blue Lady. But he sees nothing except a handkerchief with a medallion of the Virgin Mary placed neatly on the soft dirt near him.

”Funny how the Styx and the Pishon are two of the great rivers known to men, and yet for you, a genetically enhanced human, they merge and show up as a mere trickle of muddy water. Your road to Heaven is kind of pathetic, to be honest.”

When Ben turns, as quick as lightning, there’s a man in a suit standing behind him. Or something that looks like a man but surely isn’t. The thing smiles at him with a certain amount of contempt, gesturing to its physical form:

“You see this humanoid shape because your imagination is crippled. It’s a shame because I’m told you were a delightful storyteller a mere 10 years ago, which requires a healthy dose of creativity and intuition. As a child, you might have perceived my true form, my six wings and four faces.”

Ben never really paid much attention to organized religion. Even if he found statues of the Blue Lady in some Catholic churches, when priests talk of Her, they get it all wrong. But his eidetic memory caught on to the concept of angels in western religions and his instinct tells him that the thing that looks like a bald and bold man in his late fifties is one of those mythic creatures. They were messengers or warriors, but this angel, although definitely powerful, doesn’t look like he was built to fight. So it must be one of the former kind, here to tell him about Her.

“When will I see the Blue Lady?”

The angel scuffed: “Did you really think you could ask someone to snap your neck and, Voilà! your biggest wish would be granted? Tsk, tsk. And I thought you had superior intelligence as well as speed and strength.”

Ben can feel his forehead crinkle. An uneasy feeling creeps into his stomach; maybe he’s not exactly where he thought he was. If only because the creature in front of him is pretty close to yelling.

Without even realizing it, he slowly backs away from the angel. His foot shifts the medallion of the Virgin he left on the ground. When his eye catches the reflection of the metal in the sun, he has the compulsion to pick it up. Clenching the medallion in his fist makes him feel better and reassures him a little. Even if he is now confronted with someone who cannot hide his disgust of him:

“In the end, you’re just another ignorant hairless ape, aren’t you? You really know nothing of Osiris and Anubis, or Minos and…”

The angel sighs as if burdened with the worst task in the world.

“I guess I’ll make it simple for you: you’re not in Heaven yet. You have to follow the stream to get there. But before that, you have to be judged. On all the promises you broke. From what I know… Good luck passing the Pearly Gates.”

Ben hasn't heard any of his biological functions since Max disappeared - he is now dead after all - but it's as if his heart has stopped for a second time. His eyes close as he bows his head.

How many promises has he broken in his miserable life?

His pledge to Manticore to be a good little soldier; his promises to Max and the rest of his family of a better life; his solemn vow to the Blue Lady that he would do better.

He didn’t keep any of those.

Even his offerings to the Blue Lady and the discipline he has imposed on himself in recent years could not make up for all his transgressions.

A great sorrow fills his entire being at the thought of never reaching the Good Place, of never seeing the benevolent Blue Lady. His eyes sting and get misty, so he purses his lips and sniffs to make the tears go away. To hide that little part of him that still believed he could be saved, that part that is now bloody and raw.

Instinctively, he clutches the medallion to his heart and averts his eyes from the smug smile of the angel. He turns his gaze to the stream, catching a glimpse of the smoky wings of the angel in the water's reflection. Funny that his imagination starts working at full power again at the exact moment the rest of him seems to shut down.

Behind the supernatural being, Ben sees a bluish-white light shaping itself into a vaguely human form. Startled, he quickly snaps his head up. It isn’t just his imagination: there is a young woman glowing blue walking towards them. As she comes closer, the angel stutters and steps back. Ben can see his head getting blurry as if it wants to morph into somebody else’s face, and the shadow of a lion’s mane obscures his bald scalp. He can see this transformation, but his attention is mainly on Her.

She looks younger than he expected, with long dark hair not at all covered by a veil. In fact, she looks a little like Max, and she has a beautiful runic pattern tattooed on her bare arms. Her smile is kind yet somewhat sad when she looks at him.

As she nears the forest patch where he is rooted, transfixed by her mere presence, she gently speaks to him:

“Follow the stream, Ben. Your road is still long and meandering, but if you promise to follow it to the end, the water will lead you where you want to go. The Styx will find you if you are true to your word. When she does, bathe in her waters: it can ensure the sanctity of an oath. Thus, making you worthy of the peace you crave.”

Ben can do nothing but stare at the Blue Lady. As she starts to fade away in a resurgence of bluish-white light, taking the angel with her, he is left with nothing but Hope. And that is more than he ever had in most of his life.

#fic rec #ben x5 493 #ben x5 493 fic #dark angel fic

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