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[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 13

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 2,947

Warnings: mentions of 

When you're weary, feeling small

When tears are in your eyes, I will dry them all, all

I'm on your side, oh, when times get rough

And friends just can't be found

Like a bridge over troubled water

I will lay me down

(x)

The one advantage he now had was control over his narrative. 

The only people who had a clue to his real identity were dead now. He planned what he would say on the drive back, taking the time to consider all angles that could pop up. He was sure Connie could throw a wrench in things, but that was a risk he’d have to take. He rushed back to the steakhouse, finding the remaining members still socializing on the grounds. The women had moved to a different room, leaving the men to shoot the breeze and smoke cigars. They were laughing at a joke someone had just told as Flip burst back into the room.

"Hey, where'd you run off to? It's been hours," Walter asked.

"Felix and Ivanhoe went rogue. I tried to stop them but—“

"They went what?" Walter's voice rose. "Mr. Duke, please excuse us, there's been an issue,"

“No, I'd like to be apart of this. Is everything okay?" The leader asked.

Flip motioned for them to follow him out of the room and they obliged. They stood in the hall and he did his best to look upset.

"Two of our members weren't in compliance with the organizations morals. They wanted to incite violence and chose to target the local Black Student Union," He explained.

"They had an explosive device that they were going to set off at the Black Student Union’s headquarters. I found out about what they were trying to do and tried to talk them out of it but they wouldn't listen. They took off and I tried to catch up with them but I was too late,"

"Did they kill anyone?" Walter asked. "I mean our creed is nonviolence but did they at least, you know, succeed?"

"When I got there, the house was fine but their car was on fire. I—I think—“ He didn't finish his sentence, letting them put two and two together.

Duke closed his eyes and sighed. Walter looked defeated.

"I tried to get closer, but the police were arriving and I had to get out of there. I got back here as soon as I could,"

"Thank you, your service is appreciated," Duke said, clasping his shoulder. "It's always a sad day when brothers die for their cause,"

"They were good men," Flip agreed, lying through his teeth.

"Was Connie with them?" Walter asked.

"She was but survived, she was taken in to custody I think. I don't know if anything like this has happened before but should we take care of their house for them? Maybe get rid of anything that could incriminate us? I mean with Mr. Duke running for office we wouldn't want this coming back our way,"

"That's good thinking. I'll wrap things up here and meet you at their place in an hour. If the police start poking around, call me from a payphone and we'll re-group," Walter agreed, Duke nodding along.

"It was an honor to meet you sir," Flip shook the leaders hand firmly.

"You're doing great things for this organization, Stallworth. A natural born leader if you will," Duke responded. "Take care out there,"

He said his goodbyes and dashed out to his car. He had already ensured that no officers would be poking around the house yet. He wanted to see if any evidence could be gathered for his case before the rest of the station swooped in.

He parked his car on the Kendrickson’s street, looking around for any neighbors before walking to the side of the house. He checked for an unlocked window, something people commonly forgot to do in the nicer parts of town, and found one right near the kitchen. He slid it open and squeezed his long frame through, stumbling as his foot found purchase on the hardwood floor.

He closed the window after him and began to look around. The house was still. It was hard to imagine that half of the people who lived in it were now dead, and the other half was headed to jail. The only sound in the house came from the ticking clock in the kitchen.

He walked around, taking a brief glimpse at how the house had come to a stand still. It still looked lived-in. Boots by the front door, unlaced and on their sides. The daily mail sat on the kitchen counter, not yet opened. The main level of the house looked normal enough, practically a piece of Americana. All of the klan paraphernalia was stored in the basement.

As he opens the door to the cellar and begins his journey downstairs he's reminded of the first time he came to this house. How Felix had taken him downstairs and held a gun to his head, trying to make him take a lie detector test. His stomach sank as he saw the same test still sitting on the small table. He reminded himself that was over, he'd never be in that situation again.

His eyes swept over the rest of the basement. There were a few guns, some old tool boxes and a lot of junk. He wouldn't have time to dig through it all. He'd only have about twenty minutes until Walter showed up, he needed to get what he needed and get out.

He rifled through a few boxes, looking for any proof. He became increasingly frustrated, each box containing nothing of use.

He'd wasted ten minutes and found nothing. He didn't have time for this shit. He tried to think of where else in the house there could be anything. He thought of the bedroom, maybe they stuffed something up there.

He headed back upstairs, leaving everything approximately where he'd found it, shutting the door behind him. He started up the staircase, finding the bedroom at the end of a small hallway. The bed was made and the room was nicely decorated. Connie's doing, probably. He started opening dresser drawers, looking under piles of clothes. Nothing. He tried the closet, shoving his hands into the pockets of shirts and coats. Just some shopping receipts in Connie's pockets.

He stopped himself from yelling in frustration. He needed proof for this investigation, something that would show concrete proof of their involvement beyond some snapshots and recordings. He looked toward the immaculately made bed. He crouched down to check under it, met with nothing yet again. He hit his head pulling out, cursing this whole operation. He drive his fist into the floor, an attempt to get rid of his aggression.

The floorboard knocked out of place.

He looked down, it was dark under the bed but he could just make out a small box. He pulled it out, taking a better look at it in the quickly dimming light. He opened the box, and he sucked in a breath upon seeing the contents.

There were six memberships cards scattered in the box, one for every year of Felix's service, along with recruitment flyers the klan had produced and some photos of him with the white robes on. Connie smiled proudly next to her husband in the photo. Another photo was at the very bottom of the box. He immediately recognized a familiar scene. The shooting range the organization had taken him to could be seen in the background, the vulgar targets looked newly installed. There Felix stood with a rifle, smiling as he aimed it at one of the targets.

“Now these would do just fine for evidence,” He thought to himself as he held the photos.

Suddenly, he heard a car engine. He rushed to the bedroom window. And saw Walter's car pull up to the house.

Fuck. He had to get out of there now.

He stuffed the contents of the box in his inside coat pocket to keep them out of view. He shoved the box back into the floorboards and readjusted the wood. He ran back downstairs as quietly as possible, peaking out windows when he could to make sure he hadn't been spotted. The dark house served as a good cover, keeping him out of sight.

He stopped near the front window. Walter was standing by his car smoking a cigarette, presumably waiting for him. There was no way he'd be able to get back to his car now, he was too close. He held his jacket close to his chest, hoping nothing would fall out as he snuck back out the window.

He stumbled back onto the grass, shutting the window behind him. He took a deep breath before straightening himself out and brushing himself off. He snuck to the front of the house and made himself just visible to Walter. He beckoned for him to come into the yard once he caught his eye. The man stubbed out his cigarette on his shoe and followed him.

"Do any of the brothers know what happened yet?" Flip asked.

"Not yet, we kept it quiet at the meeting, didn't want to cause a fuss with Duke still there. I'm sure they'll find out by tomorrow morning," He responded. "We should clear out anything that directly links him and Connie to our chapter. We don't want any trouble with the police,"

"I hear ya, I don't think theres a key hidden anywhere. There's gotta be an open window somewhere though,"

They crept through the yard, letting Walter test a few windows before Flip guided him to the one he knew was open. They entered the house the same way he had done moments before and began to look around.

After several minutes it became apparent that Walter was much more familiar with where Felix put things than himself. In the basement, boxes of klan memorabilia were carefully tucked away in tool chests under the drawer bottoms.

Most was simple enough, flags and robes and paperwork. Things he was kind of glad he didn't touch because the other man clearly knew what he was doing. Then another box was pulled out and opened. Walter smiled at the contents and held it for Flip to see. It was a mummified finger, decapitated from lord knows who. Under the finger was a simple tattered gold star made out of cloth with the word “Jude” written across it.

His stomach dropped. Where did Felix even get that from? he was too young to have fought in the war. Was is handed down? Was it purchased? He wasn’t sure he wanted to know. He willed himself to not look away, slap it out of Walter’s hand, he had to keep cover.

He twisted his mouth into a small smile, looking up at Walter and giving a quiet laugh.

"Typical Felix," He gritted out.

"Yeah, he was a strange guy," Walter mused, closing the box and slipping it into his jacket.

They continued with this for another hour or so. They walked through the rest of the house, checking drawers and cabinets for anything incriminating. He held his breath as they walked around the bedroom, waiting to find out if Walter knew about the loose floorboard.

He waited by the doorway as the man circled the bedroom, checking the closets and drawers as Flip did before. He found nothing new. He stopped at the end of the bed, dropping down to check under it and he felt his heart stop. Walter stayed under there for what felt like hours. He couldn’t hear what was going on beyond the pumping of blood in his ears. Was he about to be found out?

Walter stood back up, staring at him before speaking.

"I'm not seeing anything up here, guess he kept it all in the basement. We should get out of here. Before anyone notices,"

It felt like a weight had been lifted from his chest.

"Yeah, good idea,"

"I can't hold all this shit, you take some of it. Hide it if anyone comes around questioning you. Who knows how this is all gonna go down," he slapped his hand on his back as he moved passed him.

The two went back downstairs, dividing up the boxes and calmly slipped back out the window. Flip took care to not grab the box that Walter had out the finger in. It was evidence, but he couldn't bear the thought of looking at it, or handling it, ever again.

"Take care, i’ll call you when it feels safe to," Walter whispered before going back to his car.

Boxes in hand and cards in his pocket, he travelled back to his own car, throwing them in the trunk before driving off. He took a long route to Elle's. A really long route. He was paranoid and  exhausted, wanting nothing more than to hold her in his arms.

He stopped at the first payphone he saw, parking his car alongside the glass box before putting in a coin and punching in Elle's number with a practiced ease. She picked up after two rings.

"Flip?" She asked, voice filled with worry.

"It's me. I'm on my way, I'll see you soon," He assured her.

She breathed a sigh of relief before the two said their goodbyes and hung up. He got back in his car and went on his way.

He'd bring the boxes to the station tomorrow, submitting it as evidence. At a stop light, he took the cards out of his coat pocket and took another look at them. The vicious red of the papers stared back at him. He was given a card just like this, but with his undercover name. He chuckled to himself as he thought about how Duke would probably lose it if he knew who the real Ron Stallworth was. The light turned green and he put the cards in his glovebox before stepping on the gas.

He was outside Elle's door less than ten minutes later. He ran up the stairs toward her apartment, breathing a sigh of relief when he reached her floor. He stood outside her door, taking a moment to look at her mezuzah. He stared at it, taking in its meaning. This place is blessed. This place is safe. He reached out and ran his fingers across it before unlocking the door and walking in.

Elle emerged from the kitchen, immediately throwing her arms around his large frame and burying her face into his chest.

"Hey trouble," He murmured, running his hand along the back of her neck. Her curls were still pinned up under her nurses' cap, she hadn't bothered to change.

"You don't get to call me that today Mr. ‘I'm going back out there’," Her words were muffled by his chest. He laughed.

"I'm home, there won't be anymore trouble tonight," He assured her.

She grabbed his shirt with her fists and dragged him down into a kiss. He could feel everything she'd felt that day; fear, worry, anger, relief, but mostly love.

"Did you get what you needed?" She asked after.

"I did. I think I have a good amount of incriminating evidence,"

"Good. Tear them the fuck down," Her gaze had an intensity to it.

She switched to a gentler look as she motioned back to the kitchen.

"I have some steak and potatoes cooking, hungry?"

"Absolutely,"

They sit in silence for a few minutes as they eat, taking time to de-stress now that the worst was over. He'd seen Elle stress-cook before, after Felix showed up at his house, but she had much more time to prepare this meal. Everything was cooked to perfection. She seemed pleased with her work as she ate, and much more relaxed than even a few minutes before.

"I called home earlier to let them know what had happened at work today. Well, an abridged version. I left out the meshugas racist part. Mama was a lot less upset than I thought she'd be, but she did tell me I should quit and settle down though,"

"I don't think settling down is in your wheelhouse," He smiled

"You're right. But I did tell her I found a nice guy out here in the mountains. He's even Jewish. I'm pretty sure she dropped the phone when I told her that,"

"I'm glad she's happy to hear about me," He laughed.

"She'll want to talk to you sometime, probably give you the shakedown of when you're coming to the city with me to meet the family,"

"I’d like that. You'll have to teach me some German so I can talk to them,"

"You say that as if they'll let you get a word in. I'll be surprised if they let you even get your own name out before questioning begins,"

"My family will be the opposite. Just silence with weird polite questions dotted in,"

"You want me to meet your family too?" She seemed surprised.

"Eventually yeah, whenever you're ready for it," He didn't want to come across as eager.

The last time he brought a girl home was in high school. This would be a big deal for him, she was a big deal, but he'd let her know that later.

"Well we can work out the details later, let's just relax for now," She tried to hide a smile, looking relieved they were on the same page. She wanted this to move in the same direction as he did.

The evening was becoming the rainbow after the storm. His life was hectic and dangerous, but he found someone who could put up with it. Tomorrow he would go into the office and the case would continue. He'd be undercover, cleaning up the mess that today was. But he wouldn't worry about that now.

She was with him, they were safe, that's what mattered.

______

NOTES

So after watching the film a few times, I had a few questions about how the team thought they were going to be able to continue the undercover work after the explosion/Connie’s arrest. I kinda filled in what I thought could have happened in order to keep Flip’s cover. 

Where did Felix get the finger and the patch? No idea but it was gross to write! Just wanted to hammer home the idea that he’s a sick bastard.

“Meshugas” is yiddish for crazy.

There’s one more chapter left!

#flip zimmerman x reader #flip x reader #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x oc #artb #ARTBmasterlist

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 12

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 3,817

Warnings: slurs, violence

I see the bad moon a-rising

I see trouble on the way

I see earthquakes and lightnin'

I see bad times today

(x)

Flip had known David Duke was going to come to town, it’s not like this was a new surprise. He was given weeks to prepare, spent time with the organization getting everything in place. He should feel ready. But he didn’t.

Then the real Ron Stallworth was put on escort duty for Duke and he really didn’t feel ready for all this. What was the chief thinking? Not only was he putting a black officer in charge of the most prominent white supremacist in America, Ron was also the man that had been speaking on the phone with him for months.

The stress was starting to get to him. He was constantly working scenarios out in his head, every little situation that could go possibly wrong, and what he could do to fix it if it happened. In theory it was once day, just a few hours spent at a steakhouse. They would get through it one way or another. But he couldn’t help but feel this whole operation was about to be a disaster.

“Flip?” Elle’s voice called to him.

He blinked his eyes a few times and he came back to reality. He was sitting in Elle’s living room with her on the sofa, the two of them sharing Chinese food he’d brought over. It was the night before the big day.

“You spaced out there for a minute, everything okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, sorry. Just thinking about work,” He rubbed his face with his hand, trying to wake himself back up.

“You’ve been really stressed out lately, is that because of work too?”

“Yeah, it’s—” He stopped himself.

“Confidential, I know,” She finished his words. “But I’m still worried. How much longer do you think this case is?”

“Could be years, could be tomorrow. I really can’t say,” He sighed.

Part of him wanted this to be over. He was mentally exhausted from dealing with the klan day in and day out. But he know this was important, that they needed to be taken down. He just hoped it could be done smoothly. He suddenly felt her fingers intertwine with his.

“You’re going to get through this,” She assured him. “You’re gonna do what you need to do, and I’ll be by your side through it no matter how long it takes,”

He looked at her, taking in the resolution on her face. She believed in him, in his ability to see this through. This woman knew who he was undercover with, had even accidentally met some of the targets, and was still supportive of him. He had other girlfriends in the past tell him they supported him, but this time he felt like he could really believe it. He gave her hand a light squeeze and nodded at her.

“I’m going to get through this,”

_______

"You know something about that, don't you Flip?"

Blood rushed in his ears, for a second the world seemed to stop. Felix just called him by his name, his real name. He knew, how did he know? Is he about to be exposed to the entire organization without any backup? Ron wasn't in the room, he must have left for somewhere. Fuck this was about to be a worst case scenario.

He didn't remember the guy being introduced to him. Was it another undercover case? Army? Did he arrest him? Fuck, why can't he remember? His mouth was on autopilot, denying and covering the best he could.

Suddenly a waiter approached the table, stopping them all.

"Felix Kendrickson, you have a call,"

He stood up from the table, leaning over to Flip before he left.

"We'll talk about this later, Flip," He spat out before leaving.

The majority of the table hadn't noticed the interaction, but those who did took turns glancing in his direction. He pretended not to notice, not saying anything as he silently plotted his next step. Maybe he could leave now? Excuse himself before he's exposed? He took a sip of wine to calm his nerves. He wasn't going to abandon the case, he could talk his way out of this.

Felix came back into the room but didn't even acknowledge Flip. He gave a curt nod and Ivanhoe and the mystery man got up and followed him out without another word.

Something has to be going on. With all their talk to explosions and revolution, whatever they were up to it couldn't be good. He had to follow them.

"Why was he calling you flip?" Duke's voice came from his right side. That's right, he still had to keep his cover.

"We were in prison together, it was an old joke. I think he just violated his parole though," Prison, he put the guy in prison. He remembered now.

He got up and calmly walked out of the room. As soon as the door closed he took off into a sprint, trying to see where the men had gone off to. He was near the entrance when he heard a car engine start. He looked out a window to see Felix driving a car out of the lot and down the road. He followed the car at a distance, trying to keep from being seen.

He lost their car at a red light, the vehicle disappearing around a corner as a line of cars passes in front of him, preventing him from moving forward. Behind him were more cars so backing up isn't an option either. He brings a fist down on his steering wheel, grunting in frustration.

There was no police scanner in his car, just his gun under his seat and his badge hidden in his glove box. He couldn't listen to what was going on, or if Ron had made any calls in to the network. He was going to have to wing it.

As soon as the light turned green, he gunned it. A straggler from the recent red light almost T-boned him as he sped through the intersection, causing them both to swerve. He recovered as best he could and kept going despite the horns blaring behind him.

He weaved through the streets of Colorado Springs, looking for any sign of the car. There's a few false alarms, but once he sees the passengers his heart falls. They're nowhere to be found.

He thinks that he should maybe start to head back when he hears a thundering BOOM a few streets to the west. Immediately he steps on the gas and his tiles squeal as he peels toward the noise. That had to be them, the crazy motherfuckers. What the fuck did they do?

He follows the smoke billowing up into the sky. As he turns the last corner he sees the police are already on the scene. Someone is on their stomach on the ground with a gun pointed at them. Did they catch the perp already? If it's Felix and company shouldn't there be more on the ground. Then he saw the man's face. Ron.

"Hey, HEY," He screamed as he rushed out of his car. The officers turned to look at him. He'd grabbed his badge and gun from the car as he rushed toward them.

"Who the fuck are you?" One asked.

"I'm an undercover cop you idiot," He spat back, throwing his badge at him.

He made them get off Ron and free him from his cuffs. He looks around and evaluated the scene in front of him. It took him a moment but he saw that the fireball in front of him was coming from a red VW Bug, and an overturned vehicle next to it. The car Felix was driving. He heard a wail and saw Connie on the ground crying. He put two and two together and bit back a grimace before turning to the officers.

"We have one black officer on the whole force and you can't bother to know him? Shape the fuck up and arrest that woman!” He yelled.

The officers scrambled to arrest the right person and Ron sprung up and ran toward the house that was closest to the flames. He watched him help up two women, one re recognized as Ron's girlfriend from the Black Student Union, and bring them father away.

"Is everyone okay?" He asked, seeing that the girls looked a little dazed. No doubt they had been knocked over by the blast of that were that close.

“We're fine, I'm gonna take them to the hospital just in case," Ron told him, ushering the girls to his car.

"I'll stay behind to make sure fire and anyone else that comes sets this up properly. They'll probably take Connie to an emergency unit too so be careful," He leaned by the open window of Ron's car as he spoke.

"We will be, you stay safe too," He said as he turned on the engine.

"And if you see Elle, tell her I'm okay," He knew the words were simple, but she'd appreciate them.

Ron met his gaze and nodded.

"Will do, brother. I'll see you there," Flip stepped back and the car rolled off away from the fire.

He took a deep breath. He could hear the fire engine in the distance and the police sirens approaching. Connie was currently being loaded into the back of an ambulance on a stretcher accompanied by an officer. The VW Bug let off another spurt of flames.

This is not how he thought this day would go.

_______

He drove to the hospital about a half hour later, trying to decompress and process what he just witnessed. The sight of the burning car, the smell of kerosene and smoke, the wailing of Connie mixed with the screams of Ron and the officers. What a shit show.

He became aware of how tightly he was gripping the wheel when he heard a knuckle crack. He loosened his grip and took a breath. He knew he should go back to the organization now, the longer he stayed away the more likely he was to blow his cover. But he wanted to make sure his partner wasn't going to be put in handcuffs again. And they'd need a statement from him about what just happened, and to know not to release anything about his involvement as an officer.

He was thankful the three men were pronounced dead on the scene. They were vile human beings who were intent on killing innocent people sure, but he didn't want to imagine the agony of surviving that kind of explosion. And he was sure they would be a nightmare for the nurses. Connie was sure to be a handful on her own, the way she was screeching and flailing. He hoped Elle wouldn't have to deal with all this, maybe she was helping other patients.

He swung into a parking spot and rushed inside, barely stopping at the front desk to flash his badge and ask which way to head. The nurses must have already seen the rest of the patients come in because they looked grave.

He dashed down the left hallway, bursting through the double doors that lead to the small emergency center. He passed the empty waiting room to enter the patient area. The first room he passed held Ron and his friends. He skidded to a halt and caught his breath.

"Is everything okay?" He asked, entering the room.

"Yeah, I'm okay. They're okay. No damage on us, I think we're just here as more of a precaution," Ron explained. "How's the scene?"

"It's being handled. It's not pretty but at least it was contained and didn't harm anything else. You guys should be good to go home tonight, your house is fine,"

"Thanks," Patrice said from across the room. Her and her friend looked to be in no mood for talking, which he understood.

"Your girl was just in here, I told her you were okay," Ron offered, giving him a smile.

"Thanks. I told her I wasn't gonna get into trouble today so she probably had a heart attack with this many officers coming in at once. Where is she now?"

"She went down the hall to get the medicine for the nurses to work on Connie. She had some scrapes from resisting arrest but they can't get her to settle down enough to help her,"

"She seems to have quieted down now, maybe she—“ His sentence was cut off by a loud shriek and the sound of glass shattering.

He took one look at Ron and ran out of the room, looking for the source. He found it a few doors down the hallway. Connie was being tended to by five nurses, most of which were holding her down while she thrashed in the small hospital bed. An IV had been attached to her arm but it appears to have been ripped out and the glass container smashed on the floor with the liquid seeping across the tile.

"Ma'am, please cooperate, were just trying to help," He heard Elle say. She was by the nurse's cart, rifling to find something in the mess.

"I'm innocent, you can't do this to me!" Connie screamed in response.

The nurses tightened their hold. No one seemed to notice his presence yet. He feared entering the room in case Connie noticed him and she figured out who he really was. She hadn't noticed him at the scene, too busy staring at the charred Ford.

"Ma'am we cannot help you unless you calm down. You have several scrapes we need to tend to, we want to make sure they heal correctly," Elle continued with a even voice.

She spoke calmly and he could easily see how any patient would find it soothing. She was a sight in her uniform, looking professional and focused. She carefully drawing the contents of a small bottle into a syringe. She brought it eye level, inspecting it, squirting some out, before drawing closer to the distraught woman. Her shrieks had become quieter, becoming more of whimpers. She wasn't aware of the syringe approaching her.

"We'll need to disinfect the cuts and get them wrapped in gauze," She explained out loud to the other nurses, who nodded in affirmation.

She looked at the nurse across from her and nodded. That nurse began to talk to Connie, diverting her attention while Elle drew the needle closer. They were trying to inject her, probably with a sedative, in order to calm her down. The distraction seemed to work until Connie felt the pinch of the needle entering her arm. Her head jerked back, looking at her arm and then at Elle.

It was at that moment he noticed her necklace falling forward from under her uniform collar, the same moment Connie saw it as well. Elle seemed unaware, focused to keeping the woman calm as she finished the injection.

Suddenly, Connie broke the hold the nurse had on her right arm, lunging it over to grab at Elle's necklace. She yanked the chain down, her head jerking with it.

"You filthy Jew, what'd you put in me?" Connie gritted out, fist tightening around the chain as the nurse clambered to get ahold of her.

Elle's expression was steeled, jaw set. One hand was on the syringe, now removed from her arm, and the other was desperately trying to pry her fingers off her necklace.

"It was a sedative ma'am, the same one we tried to put in your IV before you broke it. We promise, it's for your own good. We aren't here to hurt you," She said in an even tone, expertly masking her anger.

"You don't get to tell me what's good for me you dirty kike!” Connie roared in response.

The nurses all wore the same expression of shock. Flip was sure they'd seen and heard worse, but such an open attack right in front of them must be jarring. It sure disturbed him. Elle took a deep breath before speaking again.

"Ma'am I need you to let go," She said evenly.

"I watched my husband die today. A good man. A pure man. He would have killed you if he knew you were putting poison in me," Connie's voice was full of malice, her grip tightening around the necklace to the point of drawing blood where the pendant came to a point.

Elle yelped, the metal chain digging into her skin before breaking and clinking to the ground. She stepped back, holding her hand to her neck to make she was okay. Her composure was broken, eyes filled with rage. In one swift motion she drew her arm back and rocked it forward with all her strength, her fist connecting with the woman's cheek.

Connie grunted and fell limp against the bed, knocked out cold. The room was dead silent. It was if time had stopped. Elle's chest heaved as she slowly came back to reality. She took one look at Connie and looked frantically at her fellow nurses.

"Is she—” She started to ask lowly.

"She's just knocked out, it was the sedatives, right?" One nurse responded, looking at the others. A chorus of affirmation followed.

"It was the drugs that knocked her out, poor thing has had a hard day," One said.

"I heard she fell on her head while being apprehended, hope she doesn't get a bruise," Another offered.

Elle's posture relaxed, her eyes growing glassy and her hands gaining a tremor. Flip decided it was time for him to enter.

"Eliana," He said softly, getting to her side with just a few quick strides. The nurses seemed caught off guard by his presence, eyeing the badge and gun on his person.

"She's not in trouble is she? She was just defending herself," A nurse asked, ready to step forward and come to her defense.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, I didn't see a thing," He said simply, pulling his girl into a hug.

"Flip?" She asked, not having the strength to look up at him.

"I'm here, come on, let's get you some air," He said quietly.

A nurse picked up Elle's necklace and held it out to Flip, who took it and nodded his silent thanks.

"Thank you ladies, my partner is down the hall if you need anything. I'm gonna make sure Elle is okay," He escorted Elle out of the room, his arm looped around her waist.

_______

There was a bench right outside of a maintenance door. He sat her down, moving right next to her, bringing her head to rest on his shoulder. She hadn't said a word as they walked down the quiet hallways. She just stared dead ahead, eyes focusing on nothing in particular.

"Talk to me," He murmured, tucking a stray curl back under her cap.

"I could lose my job," She whispered, voice thick from holding in emotion. "I just punched a patient in the face what the fuck what I thinking?"

"She physically attacked you and was screaming hate speech I think any sane person would consider that self defense," He reasoned with her.

"It doesn't matter, I lost my cool. She was in my care, it shouldn't matter. This could be a nightmare for the hospital if it gets out" She buried her face in her hand

"I don't think it's gonna. The nurses you were working with seem to have your back on this one. One of them looked ready to take me out too when I came into the room. And I doubt Connie will have any memory after getting clocked like that,"

Elle groaned in response, rubbing her face with her hands. She swiped under her eyes, trying to prevent any tears from falling while she was on shift.

"No matter what happens, you're going to be fine. You won't lose your job, they love you here and aren't going to fire you because you defended yourself against a crazed racist," He assured.

"I hope you're right," She sighed, bringing her hand up to her throat and feeling where the chain cut into her skin.

Suddenly, her hand stopped as she remembered her necklace had been broken off her. She started to stand when he dug into his pocket to bring it forth.

"It's here, don't worry. I'm sorry she broke it, I know how much it means to you,"

Elle sucked in a breath, new tears welling in her eyes. Her mouth was drawn tight, preventing any emotion from escaping as she gingerly touched the necklace laying in his palm. The pendant, which had survived a genocide, years of torture and pain and a trip to a new country was untouched. The silver star stood resolute against the pale flesh of his palm. It was the chain, which was weak from decades of wear, that has been broken.

"Mama won't be happy when I tell her about this," She noted. "I think I could get a new chain, this one looks beyond repair,"

She took the necklace from his hand, rubbing the pendant between her fingers before tucking it into her breast pocket.

"I think you're right," He said. She was coming out of shock and seemed to be reasoning with herself again, a good sign. "It's going to be okay sweetheart,"

"Ron told me what happened today. You're working with a bunch of lunatics,"

"Are we talking about the organization or the police?" He asked, realizing it could very well be either after today's events.

"I meant the org but both of them. It's meshugas, I don't know how you work with either of them," She gave a quick laugh of disbelief.

"Its been a trip," He didn't want to speak ill of his department, but after watching how his fellow officers handled things today, he wasn't happy. "I'll have to head back soon. My cover was almost blown today and I have my work cut out for me,"

"You're going back?" She removed her head from his shoulder and looked at him incredulously.

"The guys who blew my cover are the same ones getting their ashes scooped into body bags right now. I think I have a good shot of this working out," He then hurried to explain. "I wouldn't do it if I didn't think it was safe,"

She just stared at him for a moment, eyes searching for any doubt in him. He remained firm, he knew this was the right thing to do.

"You'd better come home in one piece Zimmerman," She warned. "Or else there's gonna be a lot more racists with black eyes today,"

"I promise you," He held out a hand to her. She took it and gave it a squeeze.

"Call me before you get to my place? So I can get some dinner started?"

"Of course," He reaffirmed.

"I guess I should get back too, I made kind of a mess in there. I should get to cleaning," She sighed, standing up from the bench and smoothing her dress out.

"You gonna be alright? I can take you home," He offered.

"No it's okay, I have to finish my shift. I'll be fine,"

"Okay, I'll see you tonight then. Tell Ron where I'm headed and that this is something I gotta do without a wire,"

"Ten four," she mock saluted him.

She started to head back toward the door when he caught her and brought her flush to his body. He pulled her into a kiss, cradling her face with his hands, silently communicating every emotion he’d been holding in that day. He swore he’d come home to her tonight, he’d put an end to this.

“I love you,” He whispered as he broke the kiss.

“I love you too,” She whispered back. “Be safe,”

He promised to do his best.

_______

Hi! I took a few week off to focus on activism and getting back to work in the middle of this g-d damn pandemic. Sorry for the delay, here’s the next chapter!

#flip zimmerman #flip x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x oc #artb #ARTBmasterlist

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 9

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 3,817

Warnings: slurs

I told you way back in Fifty-two

That I would never go with you

I hear you knocking but you can't come in

I hear you knocking, go back where you been

(x)

Flip was certain last night had been a dream. 

Every night for the last week, he’d dreamed of Eliana returning to him. She would run her delicate fingers through his hair and whisper sweet nothings in his ear. Every morning he’d wake up in an empty bed, the blankets never feeling quite warm enough around him. His dreams were swept away with the morning sun, only to be seen again after nightfall and a fourth of whiskey.

It took him a moment to realize he was not dreaming as she slowly woke to the feeling of her curls tickling his face. He fought to keep his eyes closed, instinctively holding onto any memory of her that lingered. Except when he opened his eyes, she was still there.

The realization that the events of last night were not his mind tricking him came forth. Her showing up at his door, him telling her about his undercover work, her telling him that she loved him back, it came flooding back to him. This was real. Eliana was there with him.

And she loved him too.

He wrapped his arms around her small frame, bringing her closer. Bare skin rested against bare skin, the blankets around the two of them like a cocoon of warmth. She stirred slightly as he pressed a kiss into her curls. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled when she saw he was awake too.

“Morning handsome,” Her voice was thick with sleep as she nuzzled into his neck.

“Morning gorgeous,”

“I’m not ‘Trouble’ this time?” She asked, pressing light kisses up his neck.

“No, not currently,” He smiled as her kisses travelled from his neck to his jawbone and eventually to his lips.

He didn’t care about morning breath or the sleep still in his eyes, her lips against his was all he could think about. His cock, already half hard, was starting to stir. It pressed against her thigh and she smiled into the kiss, giggling as she moved her hand to stroke it lazily. He moaned, his hands palming at her soft breasts. As she stroked him, she threw her leg over his and began rocking against his thigh. He felt her grow wet against him and he wanted to bury his head between her thighs and call it breakfast.

He wanted to wake up this way every morning for the rest of his life. Before Eliana, he felt the need to rush out after spending the night at a partner’s place. Work was a good excuse when needed, but most of the time it was the truth. He had a demanding job that would sometimes give him strange hours. Some of the more serious girlfriends didn’t appreciate that, and there was a small nagging in the back of his mind that Elle might not like it sometimes either. But right now, it was the weekend and nothing was going to get in their way. They could spend all day in bed if they wanted. Logically, he knew she had a shift scheduled for later that day but he was ready to call the hospital with some half-assed excuse in order to spend the day between her thighs.

He thought he heard a knock at his front door but chose to ignore it, the feeling of bliss stronger than his sense of obligation. A hand wandered down her stomach to swipe across her core, causing her to buck up to him. He wanted to make her clench around him like she did last night.

The knock came again, making both of them still as they listened.

“I should probably get that,” He admits.

“Mmmm probably,” She lets go of his cock, making him sigh at the lack of touch.

The knocking continued and he grumbled as he crawled out of the warm bed. He threw on the crumpled pair of jeans that were on his floor from last night and an old t-shirt. He sat back on the bed and leaned over to grab at her.

"Stay right here, I'll be back for you in a second," He said, punctuating his words with kisses along her stomach.

"Answer the door you sap," She laughed, giving him a little push.

He got up, closing the bedroom door behind him, he didn't want anyone else seeing her like that. That was for his eyes only. The knocking continued, growing louder and more persistent. If whoever was there didn't stop soon, his neighbors would be coming out to complain. The last thing he needed was more people keeping him from getting back into bed with Elle. He swung the door open not even bothering to check the peephole.

Felix stood there in front of him with his hand still poised to knock.

Fuck.

He felt the color drain from his face, this couldn't be happening right now. His mind raced as he attempted to gain control of the situation before it got too far gone.

“Felix! Hey!” He greeted the man as casually as he could muster.

"Look like I found your place this time Stallworth," He grinned. "Glad to see your address checked out,"

Fuck, he'd forgotten he'd given his address out yesterday after Felix had showed up at the real Ron Stallworth’s place. This was a disaster, he had to fix this.

“Of course it checked out, it's my place," He said, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe to block the entrance.

"Well, you gonna invite me in?" Felix asked, a dangerous look in his eye that manage it apparent that it wasn't really a question.

"Its nine in the fuckin morning, can you come by another time? Maybe when I didn’t just wake up?” He could not have this lunatic peaking around his place, especially with his Jewish girlfriend naked in bed in the next room.

"Just for a minute, I wanna see how our newest recruit is holding up when he’s not with us,” Felix insisted, making it obvious he wasn't going to leave.

He took a quick glance to make sure the bedroom door was still shut before assessing the situation in front of him. He couldn't do anything that would blow his cover, but he absolutely refused to put Elle in harm’s way. As long as that door stayed shut and she stayed quiet, he could pull this off. He had to.

He leaned off the door and walked back into his tiny living area. Felix followed close behind, his eyes darting around to take everything in. Flip was suddenly thankful he’d remembered to take all his case files back to the office, leaving no police memorabilia visible. He watched Felix move around the room slowly, him looking over everything as if running through it with a fine tooth comb. He was probably looking for hidden Star of Davids or something else that would give away his identity, but Flip’s decidedly secular residence was all that was apparent.

"Nice place you got here," Felix finally commented, seeming satisfied.

"It's alright. The rent’s good and its a nice neighborhood, if you know what I mean,” He responded, staying in character despite his brain wanting him to scream GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY APARTMENT.

Felix’s next move was to peruse through Flip’s minuscule kitchen. The bottle of whiskey still sat on the table from last night, which earned him a “nice” before the wiry man opened his fridge and started looking inside.

"The fuck are you looking for?” He came right up behind him, trying to see what Felix could be looking for.

“Checkin' to make sure you don't have any Jew foods here," He responded simply, moving to the cabinets.

What a fucking weirdo. Luckily, his cabinets were pretty bare. He didn't cook much, most of his meals consisted of TV dinners or were late night diner runs after long shifts. And up until last week, him and Elle had been eating together at least twice a week, with her sending him home (when he went home) with leftovers.

He mentally checked over his kitchen to remember if he had any old matzoh laying hidden in a cabinet. Felix’s check revealed that he didn’t.

"You know you're not gonna find any Jew food here, don't be stupid," He reasoned, speaking in a louder tone so Elle would maybe hear. He hoped she had the sense to stay put.

"Never hurts to check," Felix responded, closing the last cabinet.

“You gonna check my bathroom too? Look for toothpaste with little stars in it?” Flip knew he shouldn't be mocking the man, but this was ridiculous. Even if he’d been alone in the apartment at the time, he would have been annoyed by the intrusion.

The klansman just smiled at him and walked to the bathroom to poke his head in. Flip didn’t even have a medicine cabinet in the mirror, that room took no time to check over. He popped his head back out in no time flat, smiling to him in a way that had Flip thinking he’d done it more to aggravate him than actually look around.

Then Flip watched the man’s beady eyes flick toward the bedroom door.

"What's in there?" He asked, voice sporting a dangerous edge under the polite tone.

Flip’s heart was in his throat. This could not be happening.

"My bed? You think I sleep on the fuckin couch?” He mustered.

Felix walked over to the door, hand resting on the handle. Before he could turn it, Flip began to speak loudly.

"Why are you trying to see my bedroom, you a fag or something?" He challenged, moving to stand in his way if he had the gall to turn the handle any more.

“Oh, you got fag stuff in there Stallworth?" He shot back.

"Fuck no, but you wanting to see where I sleep is fuckin’ weird. Women only beyond this point,” This conversation was ridiculous, this whole situation was ridiculous. Please let this be the end of it.

“How can I be sure you ain’t hiding anything in here. I’m sure the guys wouldn’t be happy if they knew you were keepin’ stuff from them,” Felix’s mouth twisted into a sick smile, his teeth barred like a wild animal. His hand twisted together around the doorknob, pushing it open when the knob was fully turned.

This was it. If Felix saw Elle, Flip was prepared to fight for both her life and his own. He would kill the man if he had to, he decided in that moment. His posture tensed as the door creaked open and the bedroom was revealed little by little. Felix entered the room and he followed quickly behind him, ready to take the man down.

Flip’s eyes immediately shot to the bed, expecting to see a confused and terrified Eliana under the sheets looking back at him. Instead he saw…nothing?

She wasn't anywhere to be found, not even her clothes were present. He felt a sudden sigh of relief, she'd hidden somewhere, somehow. Smart girl. He turned to Felix, who was standing in the center of the room with his hands on his hips.

"Satisfied? I’m obviously not hiding anything. Now you look like a fuckin’ faggot tryin’ to get into my bedroom. Can I go to sleep now? Or are you gonna lay in my bed first?” He threw his hands up at Felix, who gave the room a last once-over.

“Don’t you fuckin’ wish,” He chuckled before smiling at him. "You're off the hook. For now. See you at the next meeting Stallworth,”

"Yeah yeah, I'll be there if I can get some fuckin’ sleep first,” He followed Felix out to the front door, towering over him incase he decided to try and look around some more.

They got to the front door, Flip just about to shut it as Felix’s hand darted out to keep it open. He leaned in the frame, taking one long look at the taller man before speaking again.

"I'll stop by another time, maybe I’ll bring the guys around. We’ll grab a beer and talk…business” He chose his words carefully, waiting for him to understand the implications. Klan business. Being planned in his own apartment.

"I'll welcome it," Flip raised his eyebrows, internally swearing to himself that next time he'd be more prepared.

Felix let go of the door frame and walked down the hall. Flip watched him turn the corner before closing the door and turning the lock, threading the chain lock on for extra security. The second everything was in place he turned on his heels and ran to the bedroom in search of where his girlfriend had hid herself.

He reached his room looking around wildly before calling out to her.

“Elle?”

No response.

"Elle it's safe to come out," He walked around, looking under the bed to see if she was there, she wasn't.

He stood back up. He moved the blankets off the bed, seeing if she had buried under them. She hadn’t. Could she have snuck out while Felix was walking around? His floorboards were pretty squeaky, so that was highly unlikely. His dresser was too small to hide in and the size of his closet was essentially a joke. There was literally no place in his room she could be.

So where the fuck did she go?

Suddenly he heard a light tapping at his bedroom window.

He turned his head to see Elle on the fire escape outside his bedroom window. She was wearing his button down and was holding her own clothes in a bundle under her arm. He rushed over to the window, opening it from the inside.

"Elle!" He helped her climb back inside. It was probably 40 degrees out and she was standing barefoot on a metal grate.

"What the fuck Flip?" She gritted out, throwing her clothes back on the floor. She was shivering and rubbing her arms as she stood on his bed, towering over him just barely.

"I'm so sorry Elle I had no idea he was gonna swing by--"

"Was that a klansman who just walked around your house like he owned the place?" She let him wrap her back up in the blanket, trying to warm her back up.

“The same guy swung by my partner’s apartment, we’re using his name for the investigation because he's an idiot and use his real name. So I had to throw the guy off his scent and give him my real address to stop him from poking around more. I never thought he’d actually show up,” he explained.

“Doesn’t explain why he had to check the whole fucking place,” She mumbled.

“He keeps trying to figure out if I'm Jewish. He's fuckin’ obsessed with it. He was looking everywhere for some sort of sign, he didn't wind up finding one. I’m so sorry you were put in this situation, but you were so smart to hide—”

"Yeah? Well you can put me in the fucking attic next time the gestapo rolls around," She shot back.

Regret flooded her face as soon as the words left her lips. The two stared at each other in stunned silence.

"Elle," He started, his voice barely above a whisper, "that's not fair to say,”

"I know," Her eyes screwed shut and she pinched her nose bridge between her fingers "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for. But what the fuck, Flip? What was he gonna do if he saw me? What would he have done to you?”

"He wouldn't have been able to do anything, I wouldn't have let him anywhere near you," He wrapped his arms around her blanket-covered shoulders. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you,"

"But what about you?" She asked quietly.

"I'll be fine, I'm trained in this remember?"

“Yeah,It’s your job, I know,” She said, sounding unconvinced.

He opened his mouth to reassure her but before he could she unwrapped herself from his arms and moved toward the kitchen. She opened a few of the cupboards before discovering the salt and pepper shakers and pulling them down. She then moved to the fridge and opened it.

"I'm gonna make breakfast, you have eggs, right?" She didn't wait for an answer, pulling the small carton from the fridge and placing them on the counter.

She was still only wearing his flannel. He guessed she had thrown it on after hearing Felix in the other room and decided she needed to make a quick exit. It was way too big for her, the hem falling at her thighs and the sleeves covering her hands. She had to keep pushing them back up and she moved around. He stood in the doorway watching her for a moment, she looked perfect to him. He wanted this every morning.

He watched her chew at her cheek as she put butter and a frying pan out on the counter next to the eggs. She put the pan on the stove and turned on the heat. She found a bowl in a cabinet and started cracking the eggs into it. He trekked across the kitchen until he could stand behind her and wrap his arms around her waist.

"Is scrambled eggs okay?" She asked, not looking up at him but leaning into his touch

"Sounds great," He responded.

"You should get some sour cream. You beat it into the eggs, it makes them creamier," She said as she stirred the eggs up.

"I'll try that some time," He kissed the top of her head. "Are you trying to avoid talking about my job?”

She sighed, realizing he wasn't going to let this go.

“Flip, I'm gonna worry no matter what," She told him, letting the butter melt in the pan before pouring in the eggs. "And if I'm being honest, I'm not thrilled you have to hanging out with people who want us dead,"

"I'm not thrilled either, but it's my job,"

"I know it's your job! And I’m sure you're great at your job, but what if you run into someone who didn't know you were undercover like I did? I could've gotten you killed. Someone could let it drop that you're a cop or that you're Jewish or literally anything that doesn’t perfectly match up to your cover story and BAM! It’s over!”

“That risk is there for any case. It has happened before while I'm undercover, when I was new to this but I don’t think that will happen this time. We dont even spend that much time in town, were out in the middle of nowhere,”

“You have to listen to these men talk day after day about their hatred toward anyone different than themselves. You and your partner are their targets, who they want to keep from existing on this planet. Couldn't the CSPD find anyone else to have done this undercover portion? They had to choose the Jewish guy, completely disregarding how that could affect him and the case?”

“It didn't matter to me in the beginning. Almost no one in the office knows I’m Jewish because I’m not practicing. Up until a couple months ago I’d never been to a Rosh Hashanah dinner, or spent any time thinking about my heritage. This is all new to me, and the department isn't to blame for that. Besides, this is my job right now. If I have to talk some shit about Jews with a bunch of racists, I have to do it because its what I’m currently paid to do,” He was beginning to feel impatient.

“I understand that its your job Flip! G-d! I have to do it every fucking day too! Do you know how many patients I've had over the years who tell me they don't want a Jew touching them? Or ask for a Christian nurse? It's fucking infuriating! But I have to smile and nod because it's my fucking job to put up with people's preconceived notions," Her voice rose as she spoke, the scraping at the bottom of the pan grew frantic.

“In Indiana I had to save a man's life, me and the other nurses were trying to keep him from bleeding out right in front of us. We cut his shirt off his wound and there was a swastika tattoo staring back at me. But I had to pretend that didn't affect me and I had to go back to saving his life," Her voice cracked as she spoke and she sucked in a gasp of air.

"Hey, hey, come here," He cooed, trying to get her to let go of the pan.

"I'm fine, let me finish the eggs," She sniffed. He couldn't see her face but he knew she was crying.

"You sure?" He asked.

"I'll be fine. It's just—I get you have to be professional to these people. It's your job. But its just exhausting to be polite to people who don't even see you as a person,"

"I never really thought of it too much, to be honest. It never really affected me before I took this case. But hearing how these guys talk, and knowing they're talking about my family, about you, and about me, it's difficult to listen to," He confided. "I didn't grow up Jewish, it wasn't a part of my life really, but that doesn't seem matter to them,"

"It doesn't," She affirmed. “It's not only a religion. They've judged you for something you have no control over, something that you didn't think was going to be a part of your life," She finally stopped scrambling the eggs and moved them off the burner.

She turned around in his arms, hugging him back. He rested his chin on top of her head, as she burrowed her face in his chest.

“After the Shoah, me parents said they kept hearing the phrase ‘never again’ said over and over. This persecution, this horror would not be allowed to continue. The world would learn and grow. But sometimes it feels like nothing has really changed,” Her voice came muffled from his shirt.

"I know you'll do a good job, but I'm still gonna worry. You’re my boyfriend for fucks sake,"

"Boyfriend, huh?" He teased. "I'm your boyfriend now?"

"Ugh, don't do this," She looked up at him, trying to hide a smile. "You're my boyfriend and I love you, so you aren't allowed to be getting in to trouble, okay?"

"Hey, trouble is your thing not mine," He reminded her.

She rolled her eyes and unwrapped her hand from his torso, placing them on either shoulder and pulled him in for a kiss.

"I love you," She murmured as they broke.

"I love you too," He really meant it.

"Now let's eat these eggs and get back to your bed. I'm not quite finished with you yet,"

“Oh, the feeling is mutual, believe me,”

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

I honestly cannot remember if I ever had a tag list for this, I can’t seem to find one. So if you want to be tagged, please let me know and i’ll get that instituted!

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x oc #ARTBmasterlist #ARTB #flip x reader

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 10

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 3,859

Warnings: slurs

And if they stare

Just let them burn their eyes on you moving

And if they shout

Don't let it change a thing that you're doing

Hold your head up, woman

Hold your head up, woman

Hold your head up, woman

Hold your head high

(x)

Spending his Friday night in a backwoods bar with a bunch of racists wasn't Flip’s idea of a good time. The jukebox played the same ten songs in rotation, the lighting probably should have been replaced a good five years ago, and the pool tables were missing cue balls. At least the beer was cold.

He had grown used to the atmosphere at the bar, and the patrons. The smell of cigarette smoke fell heavily over everything, leaving a slight haze in the room. The bar was more populated than usual. A ladies night had been introduced into the roster, filling the usually testosterone-laden room with high heels and skirts.

The girls were pretty enough. Some looked like office-workers, secretaries and nurses. Some were definitely underage, leaving the detective in him rolling. They looked like they were having a good time, whispering among one another before one would wait for a man to approach her. They'd giggle and bat their eyes at anyone who caught their gaze. It was all so normal. It was hard to remember every single one of them was sympathetic to the aryan movement that this bar was home to.

A girl kept trying to catch his eye from across the room. She looked a little younger than him, but older than the underage girls. She wore a simple skirt and blouse with sensible heels. A work outfit, meaning she must have come straight from the office to the bar. Her hair was a dark brown that flowed down her back in soft waves. Her features were distinctly sharp, with high cheekbones and a thin nose. She would stare at him from across the room as he spoke to Walter, occasionally whispering to her friends and giggling.

"She seems sweet on you over there," Walter pointed out, amusement filling his voice.

"So I've noticed," He responded, keeping his answer as neutral as possible.

"She's a pretty one, would make a fine wife," He continued.

"I'm sure she would,"

It wasn't the first time being flirted with while undercover. He'd managed to keep a pretty clean record with undercover cases. But he'd been undercover at a few strip clubs early in his career, weeding out seedy club owners that allowed girls to perform favors in back rooms. Or drug gangs that hired women for company. There was one case where his target's wife got sweet on him and he spent weeks on end trying to politely rejecting her advances.

But he also wasn't dating anyone during those cases. He'd either purposely stop seeing anyone during those periods, or the girl he was seeing would get sick of him never being around and would leave. He made sure Elle aware that things like this might come up, but it didn't make him feel any less strange about it all. She understood he'd have to sometimes be around a certain kind of woman, and she was okay with that as long as he kept his hands to himself. He had no problem with that last part, especially when this woman would openly hate him if she knew his true ancestry.

'Weird how that works' He thought to himself. This woman is attracted to him, but if this were a different bar a different day, and he had his necklace on, she would be repulsed by him.

Elle's words echoed in his head; They don't care who you are as a person if you’re Jewish.

"Ask her to dance, she looks like she could use a partner," Walter suggested, eyebrows cocking up his forehead.

"Maybe later," He was avoiding committing to anything.

"Later? What's the wait?" A new voice came.

A few of the members approached them as they stood by a pool table. They had clearly just gotten to the bar, the cool outdoor air still clinging to their jackets as they formed a semi circle.

"Ron here is taking his sweet time waiting to talk to that sweet thing over there," Walter informed the newcomers, nudging his head in the direction of the girl at the bar.

"Are you stupid? If you aren't snatching that up, I am," One of the men said incredulously.

"By all means, go for it," He offered, putting up a hand in surrender.

"What are ya queer or somethin'?" Felix sneered.

"I ain't no queer," He defended. God, what was this guy's obsession with him? Everyone else accepted him but Felix was constantly badgering him.

"You're passing up on some good genes there," Walter said nonchalantly. "A pure wife is gettin' harder to come by,"

"Yeah, and finding a girl here guarantees her bloodline. Ain't nothin' in his bar that doesn't have Aryan blood runnin' through their veins," Felix grinned, but it came off as unsettling when matched with his words.

"I've done just fine in the past," Flip tried his best to wave them off. "I just got out of a relationship, she was a handful. I'm not in a rush to do that again,"

"All these modern women and their attitudes," Ivanhoe roared, his beer starting to affect his speech. "It's all this women's lib bullshit,"

"What happened to the good old days? When women knew their place was in the home? Now you got all these girls looking to go to college and have careers. Don't they know they aren't built for that?" Another brother bemoaned

"Built for babies an nothin’ else," Walter agreed.

"Hey, now that's not fair," Flip chided. Everyone turned to look at him, eyes wide in surprise anyone would challenge them.

"They're built for cookin' too, I'm not here to make my own damn sandwiches," He laughed, making the room laugh with him.

He knew Elle would kill him if he ever told her he said that. He sent a silent apology into the universe.

"Sorry I'm late," Another voice came, followed by the front door slamming shut. "Got tied up at the hospital,"

"Hey John, how's your mom doin'? I heard she fell pretty hard," Walter greeted the man as he grabbed a bottle of beer and joined the circle.

"She's okay, would be a lot better if the damn nurses would listen to her," John grumbled.

"Damn shame, they just don't listen to patients no more," Ivanhoe grumbled back.

"And she has this one nurse, uppity bitch. She goes around wearing pants like she's a man. It's plain disrespectful if you ask me,"

The group vocalized their dislike. Flip wondered to himself if there were any other nurses who took to Elle's habit of ditching the dress. He hoped it was someone else they were talking about.

"Oh, and if you think that's bad this nurse walks around wearing one of those Jew necklaces. That's right, our good Christian hospitals are hiring kikes,”

A pit grew in his stomach. It had to be Elle. Her coworker, the one supposed to be at Rosh Hashanah, worked in the maternity ward. He kept quiet and listened to what else John had to say, silently gripping his beer.

"No! The next thing you know they'll be hiring dogs off the street! How is the good lord supposed to protect patients at a Christian hospital if they're hiring nurses of a different faith?" Walter asked.

"Maybe we could pay her a visit like that black panther girl. Scare her off a little," Felix suggested, making flips blood run cold.

"She'll drop out in her own time I bet, she'll get she ain't welcome here," He heard himself say.

"She doesn't even have an easy to pronounce name, my mother doesn't know what to even call her. Those Hebrews and their weird names. Why can't they be more like us?" Flip didn't bother to point out John's name had Hebrew origins, he knew he'd be wasting his breath. And it had to be Elle, she used her full name on her name tag.

"Give her a number, I'm sure she'd respond to that. They sure used to," Felix laughed, causing everyone else to follow. Flip grinned but he felt sick as he twisted his face into a smile.

"Can she ask for a more suitable nurse?" He tried to switch the conversation to being less disgusting.

"According to the hospital, she's one of their best. The head nurse said she was 'one of the best they'd ever had' and my mother was 'lucky to have her looking after her'. Shows what they know," John rolled his eyes.

A little sense of pride swelled in Flip. He knew Elle was good at her job, but he was sure she'd be happy to hear how her bosses praise her.

"It's a shame, she's pretty for a Jew. And the pants do fill out in all the right ways," John chuckled.

"You could always shut her up with your dick," Ivanhoe offered. "Give her an uncut taste,"

He wanted to break cover right then. That was his girlfriend. His gorgeous, smart, fiery girlfriend they were talking about. Not some object for them to comment on. He took a few breaths through his nose to calm himself. The investigation was more important. He had a wire strapped to his chest that was recording all of this. This was evidence. He couldn't give up now.

"Let me know if you're willing to share," He managed to say, clinking bottles with John.

"I heard that girl who works down at the grocery store on 22nd is coming here tonight, if you're looking for something less kosher," Walter teased the young man.

"Oh don't mind if I do," John leered.

The conversation turned after that, much to his relief. They went back to their usual bemoaning of society these days instead of the targeted talk about Elle. He supposed he shouldn't be too worried if they couldn't even pronounce her full name, but the thought of anything happening to her made him slow to finish his beer at the risk of losing it.

He was able to start his goodbyes not too long after, saying he was looking to turn in early because he had a long week at work. He shrugged his shearling jacket over his shoulders and waved off any last attempts to set him up with a fine Aryan woman as he walked out of the bar, leaving the faint sounds of the jukebox in the distance.

He calmly got in his car and locked the doors, checking no one was wandering around outside for a smoke break. He began talking lowly into the microphone on his chest so that Ron could hear him.

"I'll meet you by the gas station in ten, park away from the lights," He said as he turned on his engine and drove out of the parking lot on to the poorly lit road.

He tried not to think too much about what was said as he drove. He pushed it to the back of his mind. Fear wasn't helpful right now. He needed to keep himself safe. He needed to keep her safe. But right now he needed to get this equipment to Ron so he could go home to her.

He finally managed to get off the uneven dirt roads hidden in the trees and onto the solid asphalt of the main roads. He noticed a pair of headlights behind him in the distance. In the rear view mirror he could see Ron’s car following him at a distance until they both pulled into the back lot of the small gas station on the way back to the city.

He gently but quickly pulled the wire from his undershirt, letting the tape remain in his haste. He pulled the transmitter from the front pocket of his jeans and turned the power off, winding the chord around the plastic frame. He got out of his car and opened the door to Ron's passenger side before sitting down.

"Were they talking about Elle?" He asked without a greeting. "That nurse they described sounded awfully familiar,"

"I think so. They said some stuff that'd be good in court, keep this tape safe," He responded, staring to get out of the car.

"That's your girl they were talking about, doesn't that make you angry?" Ron sounded upset at his perceived cavalier nature.

"You're right it is my girl. It makes me fuckin’ furious but I can’t blow my cover because of that. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna make sure she's safe," He said curtly, slamming the door behind him.

He was out of the parking lot before Ron could even turn his lights back on. The drive from this bar back into the city was about fifteen minutes, with another couple to reach Elle's place. He was still cautious, driving roundabout routes and watching the cars around him to make sure he wasn't being followed. He couldn't throw caution to the wind just because he was angry.

His mind raced as he took the back streets to her apartment building. He had to make sure she was safe, that she was doing things to keep herself safe. A part of him still hoped they were talking about another Jewish nurse who wore pants and didn't take shit from patients. Unlikely, but it helped calm him down.

He swung into a spot outside her building, almost forgetting to turn his car off as he ran inside. He hurried up the stairs, not caring if his steps were too loud, and knocked on her door in a way one might mistake as pounding.

She swung the door open with a confused look on her face.

"Hey, I didn't expect to see you tonight," She greeted him.

"I just got off shift, wanted to come see you," He said, trying to stifle his heaving breathing from rushing.

"You look pale, is everything okay?" She asked, putting her wrist to his forehead.

"Yeah, I'm fine, come here," He mumbled, pulling her into a hug.

She squeaked in surprise as he swept her up in his arms, his body overtaking hers as he buried his face in the crook of her neck.

"You're gorgeous, you know that right? And the smartest person I know. You're perfect and anyone that says different is fucking blind," His voice was hoarse as his hands ran through her curls.

"Uh, thanks Flip. That's kind of out of nowhere, are you sure everything's okay?" She pushed him away gently before bringing her hands up to his jawline to get a better look at him.

"You know I can't really talk about work stuff, right? We talked about that," He says softly.

"Yeah, and that's okay," She matched his tone, running her thumb along his cheek in a soothing motion. "I get that it's gonna be that way,"

"But...something happened and it's making me concerned about you at work," He continued, looping his hands around her waist to pull her closer.

"Okay," She rested her head in his chest and waited for him to elaborate.

"Elle," He called softly. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes, full of empathy.

"I don't think you should be wearing your necklace at work," He said cautiously, watching for her response. "It's for your safety, I wouldn't be asking you otherwise,"

Her eyebrows knitted together, her nose scrunched the tiniest bit, narrowing her gaze as she looked up at him.

"No," Was all that came from her mouth.

“Elle—” He started, trying to find a way to tell her why this was important.

"I can't take this off, I've been wearing this since I was thirteen, it's important to me,"

"I understand that, and I said I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important," He tried to keep an even tone as her grew louder.

"Flip, I'm keeping it on," Her words were final, and she trekked out of the living room into her bedroom.

He stood there for a minute before following her. She was folding her clothes that had just been washed at the laundromat down the street. She was silent, but the way she snapped the folds and wrinkles from her clothes indicated she was angry.

He leaned against the doorway watching her. She clearly knew he was there but chose to ignore him, putting a freshly folded pile into a drawer.

"Elle, we have to talk about this,"

No response.

"Eliana, come on. You know this is serious, I've never asked you anything like this before,"

Another angry snap as she folded a pair of blue jeans.

"Elle, please. You're still Jewish if you take it off for a few hours a day, no one can take that from you—”

"You just don't get it, do you?" She whipped around, rage bubbling just below the surface.

"Obviously not," He shot back. "But I'm trying, so please explain to my why you can't take it off for work?"

“"t's a family heirloom, its non-negotiable,”

"What does that even have to—”

"It's a family heirloom Phillip! This was my grandmother’s. She didn’t make it to America like my parents. She stayed behind and was taken to the camps with the rest of my family. She hid it when everything else was taken from her! She sewed it into the lining of the clothes given to her. When she died at the camp from starvation my uncle had to sneak it into his possession before the guards could bury her with it. It would have been lost for forever in a mass grave otherwise. She wanted him to keep it safe, keep it in the family at all costs and out of the hands of the guards who'd melt it down for their own needs. He brought it to America after he was liberated and it was given to me after my bat mitzvah,"

The story rushed out of her mouth, her voice cracking and her hands curled into fists as if to anchor her to the moment.

"I was named after my grandmother. What would it mean if I took it off, Flip? She risked her life to keep this necklace, to keep her culture and her faith alive, I'm not taking it off," She covered it with her hand, as if to shield it from his view.

He was speechless. She'd mentioned it was a family heirloom, but it never occurred to him where it came from, or what it might have gone through.

The delicate star she wore around her neck was embedded with the history, the struggles, of her family. It had belonged to the person she was named for. Someone who died while keeping it safe. How many other family heirlooms were taken from people in those camps? Melted down or thrown away, as if they had no significance. An entire culture nearly wiped out and thirty years later still trying to recover and rebuild.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," He apologized sincerely.

"It's not really a conversation I like bringing up," She said stiffly, her eyes tinged red as if she was holding back tears. "If you can't understand what this means to me…I don't know what to tell you. I've been wearing this for sixteen years, I can't just take it off,"

"I understand that now, it's just—” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Let's just say racists need medical attention too, and someone might've taken notice of you while you were working,"

She was quiet, chewing on her bottom lip as she thought through the patients she'd seen recently.

"And you can't tell me who, right?" She finally asked.

"I can't, I don't want you to accidentally act different around them. Do something that could alert them of what's going on,"

"But if I took my necklace off, wouldn't they still know I'm Jewish? Now that they've seen me?" She questioned.

"Maybe. Gotta be honest, some of these people aren't really Fullbright scholars. They think you 'look Jewish' but I don't think they'd be able to tell if you didn't have the necklace or your full name on your name tag,"

"What wrong with my name?" She asked indignantly.

"Nothing, it's beautiful," He rushed to her defense. "But they thought it was hard to pronounce when they saw your name tag,"

She scowled at the thought, eyes rolling before looking at him again.

"No one even uses my full name at work except for the head nurse. They all call me Elle,"

"I know. The guy who was saying all of this had a Hebrew name. Go figure,"

"Well they haven't figured you out yet, so I guess it's okay. They missed this schnoz somehow," she reached on her tip toes so she could touch her nose to his.

"Hey," He fake-protested. "You know you like it,"

"I do," She agreed, smiling for the first time that night.

She leaned up to kiss him, a peace offering he accepted openly.

"I am still Jewish even if I take it off," She conceded. "But this is important to me. It's my culture and my faith, not just some charm. It helps me feel closer to my family, especially when I'm thousands of miles from home,"

“I understand that now, I won't ask again,"

"And I'm safe at my job," She assured him. "I have a great staff, and they'll make sure nothing happens to me. And I'll start walking home with someone if it makes you feel better,"

"It would," He admitted. "Would you be okay if I let some of the guys at the station know about this? Just in case I can't be there?"

"You are not getting me special treatment," She said firmly. "The last thing I need is to be escorted around town by a bunch of cops,"

"Self defense training then. I can teach you some basics, stuff that can get you out in a pinch,"

"I have a little bit of training but I could probably need the practice,"

"How about on Sunday? You have that day off right? I'll take you to the station and you can throw me around,"

"Perfect," She grinned. "Can I put you in cuffs?"

"Can I put you in cuffs?" He asked back.

"Only if you're wearing that shoulder holster," She pointed her finger at him.

"Oh you liked that huh? Should I read you your Miranda Rights too?” He came up behind her, grabbing her by the waist and nuzzling her neck.

“You have the right to remain silent,” He used a gruff voice, letting his beard tickle her skin.

“You’re ridiculous,” She laughed.

“Anything you say can and will be held against you,” He accentuated the statement by grinding against her.

“Excuse me detective, this seems highly inappropriate,”

“You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you,”

“That’s not even sexy,”

He swept an arm under her leg, picking her up bridal style.

“Do you understand the rights I have just ready to you?”

“I believe so Detective Zimmerman. Now take me to bed you meshugah man,”

“I don’t know that one, but I’m gonna say its a compliment,” He said as he walked toward the bedroom.

“I’ll let you find out,”

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

NOTES

As I’m sure most people know at this point, many valuables and heirlooms were stolen during WWII by the Third Reich. Many families lost everything, some clung to smaller items in any way they could. There are literally hundreds of articles and sources about this looting, and if you’re in the mood to read something depressing, its a whole rabbit hole to go down!

Some history on the Miranda Rights

Taglist: @ladygrey03​ @tinydancer40​

#ARTB #ARTBmasterlist #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip x reader #flip zimmerman x oc

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 11

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 3,817

Warnings: none

It's been a long time since I rock and rolled

It's been a long time since I did the Stroll

Oh let me get it back let me get it back

Let me get it back baby where I come from

(x)

The shrill ring of an alarm clock awoke the couple on Sunday morning. Elle's hand shot out from under the covers, frantically trying to turn it off. After a few seconds of fumbling and silent cursing, the alarm ceased it's screeching. Peaceful silence filled the small bedroom of her apartment, and for a moment he thought of just drifting back off.

He was persuaded out of this thought as he felt a pair of lips press to his neck and a few stray curls tickling his cheek.

"Time to get up," Her voice was full of sleep.

"But it's so warm here," He responded, wrapping his arms around her naked waist.

"I know, I wanna stay too, but we've got work to do," She laughed as he nuzzled his nose with hers.

"We could hold class here, I could teach you a few things while still under the covers," He teased, his calloused hands running further down her body.

"Babe," She half-scolded him, biting back a laugh as his beard tickled her neck as he kissed her.

"I know," He sighed dramatically, letting her break from his hold. The two crawled out of bed, their bodies tensing when greeted with the chilly morning air.

She walked to the bathroom while he retrieved a pair of sweatpants from his bag. He was unfolding them when he felt a sharp smack across his rear. He turned to see her smiling up at him, toothbrush in her mouth.

"Can you blame me?" She asked.

He answered by grabbing a handful of hers before giving her a light smack.

"Brush your teeth, dear," He smiled back. She rolled her eyes but retreated back to the bathroom.

He finished getting dressed, a grey t-shirt from his boot camp days and a pair of sneakers that didn't get much use other than working out in the minuscule station gym.

He switched places with Elle, brushing his teeth and slashing some water on his hair while she got dressed.

He met her in the kitchen, where she was pulling out a frying pan and a carton of eggs. She was wearing a blue tracksuit and a N.O.W. New York chapter t-shirt with a pair of converse.

"Scrambled or Over Easy?" She called to him.

"Over Easy," He answers, grabbing the orange juice from the fridge and throwing a few slices of bread into the toaster.

He retrieved the morning paper from the hallway while she turned on the radio. The voice of Carole King drifted from the speakers and filled the kitchen as she cracked the eggs into the pan.

He retrieved the newly toasted bread and set it on the table. He grabbed some plates from the cabinet and held them out so Elle could scoop the eggs on to them. They sat at the table together, her feet in his lap.

He read from the morning paper as they ate, with her adding commentary every once in a while.

"Election Day is coming up, they seem to be writing about it like Nixon was already re-elected,” He shared, absentmindedly moving the egg around in his plate.

"Ugh, I hope not. He's kept us in this war for too long," She scoffed.

"He's been pulling troops out though, it sounds like he is ending it soon,"

"This close to Election Day?" She raised an eyebrow at him. "We'll see what he does after the 8th,"

"So you're for McGovern then?" He asked, putting the paper down so he could finish eating.

"I mean I was hoping Chisholm was gonna be the democratic candidate but McGovern seems pretty strong too," She explained. "Chisholm was an assemblywoman in New York City, did some great stuff there. And it would have been cool to see a black woman as president,"

"Do you think America would be ready for that?" He asked.

"Probably not, but times are changing. I hope to see at least one in my lifetime," She finished her orange juice and poured another glass. "In the meantime, McGovern would end the war, he's been against it since the beginning. No offense to you of course,"

"None taken. I went because it seemed expected of me. Military family and all. And I probably would have been drafted if I'd waited," He explained. "I was 18, didn't really know what was going on, just that I was going to help those in need,"

"And once you were there?" She asked. He realized that he'd never really talked about his service with her before. He could see now the contained curiosity in her face, like she'd been wanting to ask but was unsure of his to brooch the topic.

"I didn't really know why we were there. We didn't seem to be doing much. I barely saw any action. We mostly were in the jungle, keeping watch and being bored. Probably one of the reasons why we came back so quickly,"

"I heard much different stories in college. Not that I don't believe you, but protesters always made it seem like you guys were slaughtering innocent people everyday,"

"I didn't experience that in my time, but I've heard other stories from other people. Some just won't talk about it at all, they freeze up. I don't think anyone really wants to stay though,"

"So you don't think we should be there?" She asked. He paused, thinking about it.

"I don't know if my opinion matters. They aren't going to pull out of Vietnam just because I have an opinion,"

"I think it matters. You were in the thick of it, your opinion probably matters the most. You fought in a highly controversial war that's still going on, and came home to a very divided country. There's protests and media coverage, it's almost impossible to not have an opinion at this point," She stated.

He ran his hands over her feet in his lap. He knew she had strong opinions, he appreciated it. But he didn't himself. He pushed any thoughts of being in Vietnam out of his head, didn't want to think about it. She was making him consider it.

"As I said, I'm not sure if what we're doing over there is helping. Nixon says he's pulling out troops, which is probably for the best. We could be using that money back home,"

"Yeah I think so too," She said quietly. He went back to eating and she poked him with one of her feet a moment later.

"Hey," She called. He looked back up at her. "Thanks for talking to me about your service, I know it must have been hard. And you know that I love you no matter what, right?"

"Yeah," He smiled, tickling the bottom of her foot, making her squeak. "And I love you even if you’re going to protests and making my job harder,"

"Peace and love man," She put up the V symbol with her fingers.

"Just don't run off and become a Hare Krishna. You can't pull off bald," He gets up and kisses her forehead. They both laugh.

"It's almost nine, do you want to start heading over?" She asked him, clearing the table after they were done eating.

"Yeah, let's go," He agreed, helping her set the plates into the sink. He'd volunteered to do dishes later.

They got into his car and drove towards the station. The streets were quiet, with most of the shops being closed for the day.

"Everyone must be in church," She noted, staring out the window as they drove.

"Yeah, it's pretty quiet out here on Sunday mornings," He noted.

"It was like that in Indiana too," She said, "New York was never quiet. Someone was always out and about. And I lived in a pretty diverse neighborhood so we had a lot of different religions around,"

"They do say it's the city that never sleeps," He mused.

"Something always seemed to be going on. Buffalo too, to a lesser extent. That’s were I wen to college upstate,” After a beat of silence she switched topics.

“I took a self defense class when I was home on break once. There was a studio offering a women-only class uptown,"

"Did you ever wind up needing to use them?"

"No, I was pretty fortunate that way. And at home I was always with my brother or friends so no one really bothered me,"

"So you gotta be a little rusty then. I want you to show me what you learned when we get inside," He instructed. "I want to see what I'm working with,"

"I think you've seen what you're working with," She teased, running a hand up his thigh as they pulled into the precinct parking lot.

"You really are trouble," He sighed, cutting the engine and ignoring the pressure building. "Save that for later, we got work to do,"

"You love it," She whispered, pulling him into a kiss by the collar of his jacket. She leaned over the seat to reach him better. Her hands wandered down his chest before settling near the fly of his jeans. Before she could go any further he ran his hand over the polyester covering her ass and gave her a quick smack.

"That's enough," He murmured, his voice pitching low enough to send vibrations through his chest. "Let's get inside, we've got a lot to cover,"

She smiled at him and touched her nose to his before climbing out the passengers side. They walked quickly into the station, getting out of the frigid morning air. The buzz of the fluorescent lights hummed above them as they walked down the deserted halls. Flip explained that the station wasn't as busy on Sunday's, especially first thing in the morning. A lot of the guys were at church or home with their families. Who was left was mostly newbies scattered between the office and patrol duty.

He led her to a room near the back of the station, holding the door open for her before flicking on the light. It was a mid-sized room with a few mats on the floor and a punching bag hanging in the corner.

"It's not much, but it's useful to brush up on stuff from time to time," He explains.

The musty smell of the room hits his nose and he tries to ignore it. They throw their coats by the door and walk to the center of the room.

"So what's first, coach?" Elle asked, pulling her curls out of her face with a hair tie. They settled in a loose bun at the nape of her neck, remaining as unruly as always.

"First, tell me what you know," He stood in front of her, hands on his hips.

"Well, its mostly ju jitsu," She explained. "It was a lot of using other people's strength to your advantage. Like if someone is trying to punch you you can use that arm to launch yourself away from them,"

"How so?" He was genuinely curious, he hadn't heard of this technique.

"Put your arm out like you're coming at me," She instructed, her body positioning itself for action.

He stood there, unsure of how much force he should use. He didn't want to accidentally hurt her.

"You can just do a slowed down punch if that helps," She offered.

He complied, throwing a gentle punch her way, just far enough away that his fist wouldn't connect. She grabbed his extended wrist with her left hand and put her right hand under his armpit, using his force to propel herself past him. He hadn't fully registered that she was behind him when he felt a nudge on the back of his knees.

"From here I could get a good head start on running away, or I could attack you. Maybe knock out your knees, or kick you in the balls, something that would throw you off," She explained, moving back in front of him while she let her fingers trail across his waist.

"That's good," He praises. Elle was a small woman, she was decently strong but still on the easier side to overpower. She would have a lot better chance to get out of a situation by doing moves like that.

"What else you got?"

"I can fuck up your wrist if you grab me,"

He chuckled, not out of disbelief, but because he loved how she would talk. She had a mouth that would've rivaled anyone in his platoon, but she was much prettier.

"Just grab you?" He asked.

"Yeah, get a good fistful of my shirt, and you don't need to be gentle. I won't be," She winked at him.

He took a breath and stepped toward her, fisting his large hand in the cotton of her t-shirt, right by the collar. She grabbed his wrist and dug it further into her chest at an angle, causing a sharp pain to run up his arm. He let out a surprised grunt and tried to use his other hand to push her away.

"That's enough Elle," He gritted out, and she let go of his arm. He shook it out, letting the pain dull before inspecting his wrist. "What did you do? That fuckin hurt,"

"I compressed your wrist," She explained. "Here, I'll do a slowed down version, I won't hurt you this time,"

He cautiously offered his hand again, which she balled up back into a fist at her collar.

"What I did is I bent your wrist so your palm was against me, and then trapped your hand in my armpit at that angle so you can't move. I then bent your elbow and used my hands at the back of your elbow to drive your wrist into me as I drive my weight down. If I kept going, I could probably break your wrist. Or at least do some damage to the tendons," She broke down the steps for him, moving in slow motion to demonstrate where her hands were going.

He watched in silence and, as promised, she didn't put the pressure on his wrist. When she was done explaining, he let go of her shirt, allowing her to smooth it out.

"That's pretty clever," He told her. "Maybe I'll teach those to the guys. You can never be too safe,"

"You could bring me to the office one day, I could kick everyone's ass," She grinned at him.

"You just might, detectives spend a lot of time behind desks. We could use the exercise," He admitted. "Could I show you some stuff now?"

"Sure, tell me what you know," She crossed her arms and waited for his instruction.

"Do you know how to throw a punch?" He asked.

"I can punch," She said simply.

"But can you throw a punch effectively, there's a difference," He started to explain. "Here, punch me in the chest,"

"You sure?" She seemed unsure of his request.

"Right here," He patted his right pectoral. "Hit me as hard as you can, it's okay,"

She took a breath, focusing on the spot his hand just touched. She bounced back and forth on her toes for a moment, one leg in front of the other. She wound up her right arm, drawing it back before quickly propelling it into his chest.

He let out a small grunt, she let out a louder one. It hurt a little, but her technique was sloppy. She shook her hand as she took it back, her knuckles red from impact.

"That was a good start, but the way you hold your hand is slowing you down and could hurt you more than your target," He took her hand in his, manipulating her fingers.

"Curl all your fingers in like this, it'll protect your joints because they're tucked away. You see how no finger sticks out more than another?" He pulled his hands back so she could see before he continued. "Next, don't tuck in your thumb like you did before , keep it under your knuckles out of the way. But don't hold it there too tight, you could fuck up your wrist on impact,”

"Now, when you're throwing your punch, keep it fluid. Anything too jerky or tight isn't as effective. Now you take your first two fingers and push those further forward. They're stronger, they'll lead the punch," he showed her with his hand how to bring the index and middle finger ever slightly forward in the first. She mimicked his movement.

"Now I want you to hit me again, but this time, as soon as you connect, bring your arm back to your body. It keeps you out of my reach, and it's easier for you to strike me again if needed," He patted the same part of his chest as before.

She nodded and got into position, she took a moment to flex her muscles in her arms, getting them ready. She threw the punch quickly, it landing with much more force than before. He braced himself by throwing a foot back, and she brought her arm back as quickly as it shot out. It hurt that time, the technique giving her more force.

"Better. Much better," He complimented, voice slightly strained.

"Are you okay?" She asked, her facial expression shifting to one of worry.

"I'm fine, it's supposed to hurt. Next time you throw one of those, go for the throat or the nose. It'll hurt a lot more,"

"Can do coach," She nodded. "Have you got anything else?"

They ran though a few more basic techniques. He had her throw some kicks at the punching bag, and teaching her to break out of a tackle. The latter eventually turned into a tickle fight, with Flip running his fingers under her shirt and along her waist until she was gasping from laughter.

"Flip! Quit it! I give up!" She yelled breathlessly, both of them laughing until it hurt their stomachs.

They barely heard the door to the gym open until a voice broke them out of their play fight.

"Well what do we have here?" An excited voice inquired.

Flip looked up to see officer Landers towering over the two of them, a sly smile covering his greasy face.

"Zimmerman, are you smuggling girls into the precinct? I hope you brought enough to share with the class,"

"She's allowed to be here, I'm teaching her self defense," He stated firmly, he was in no mood for the officers shit. And was definitely not in the mood to share.

"If thats what self defense classes look like, I might have to sign up for one. Are you free for another session after this?" Landers asked Elle, who looked ready for murder.

"If you don't mind being a punching bag," She shot back, her voice barely holding back any venom.

"Don't you have anywhere else to be?" Flip asked his coworker.

"Mmmm not at the moment, just got off shift. Maybe I'll stick around and watch the lesson," He leered.

"I think we were just finishing up, actually," Elle removed herself from under him, brushing past Landers to retrieve her jacket.

"Oh I won't be any bother sweetheart. I'll wait my turn," Landers called after her.

He got up soon after, following her lead, his coworker trailing behind. He threw on his jacket, catching up to Elle and putting a hand around her waist protectively. Landers called a few more things after them that they pretended they couldn't hear. He quickly got tired and went off in the other direction laughing to himself.

"Is it illegal to assault an officer if he's a creep?" She asked him, letting him continue to hold her as they walked.

"Yeah, unfortunately. Don't mind him, he's mostly harmless," He told her.

"Mostly? You know what? Forget it, I don't want to know, it'll just make me angry," She shook her head.

"So do you feel like you'll be able to do something like what I taught you if you were in trouble?" He asked.

"Yeah, that was helpful. Thanks babe," She looped an arm around him as well. She opened her mouth as if she were to say more but then closed it. They walked in silence to the car, climbing and settling in.

“Where to now?” He asked. “Home to practice under the covers?”

“You’re insatiable,” She swatted at him, grinning from ear to ear. “Maybe the diner first? That workout got me pretty hungry,”

“Diner it is,” He smiled.

He turned on the engine and pulled out of the Lot, taking the route through town. He turned the radio on and let her fiddle with the dial to find a station. She finally settled on a song with screeching guitars and thundering drums.

"Oh I love this one!" She exclaimed, turning it up.

"What is this?" He asked, slightly jarred by the loud music so early in the day. It was only noon after all.

"Led Zeppelin, you haven't heard of them yet?" She asked. He shook his head and she laughed. "Do you live under a rock?"

"You've seen where I live, thank you very much," He sasses. "I didn't take you for the rock and roll type,"

"I don't think I have a type with music, I just like it all," She says. "My brother was just telling me the other day that he's getting into Led Zeppelin, he saw them in concert a few months ago with some friends. Said it was the most fun he's ever had,"

"Are you sure he hasn't gone deaf since? I bet those guitars are no joke in person,"

"You're just an old man," She teased. "He's doing fine, for the most part. A week ago he was at the bar with a friend and the police raided it. It was a gay bar, and the police aren't too friendly with the patrons there,"

“Is he—” Flip began to ask.

“Yeah. Alex is gay, not that my family knows. I only found out by accident really, ran into him and his ‘friend’ one night,”

He sat listening, knowing he couldn't offer much to the conversation.

"He's of age, and knows he should be able to have a drink where's he's comfortable. He refused to leave and an officer punched him and dragged him outside with the friend. And it's not like he can report it to the police, because it's the NYPD who assaulted him in the first place. He had to tell mom and dad that he got it from a mugging and now they dont want him going out anymore,"

"Is he okay?" He asks, not knowing what else to ask. He felt ashamed that someone would do that, someone who he shared a job with.

"He's fine, just pissed. Like, so many of these gay kids are coming to the city because it's like a safe haven for them. Gets them out of their white picket fence suburbs. But they still can't really be themselves. My brother isn't hurting anyone with how he's living his life, and yet he can't even get a beer without being assaulted," She was getting angry, her voice raising as she continued to speak.

"I don't even want to think about what would happen if he lives in a town like this, with an active KKK chapter. Gay and Jewish? What kind of life would that be for him here? Part of me wants to tell him to just come live with me, get a break from our parents, but the other part knows he wouldn't be any better off here,"

“You sound like you miss him,” Flip noted.

“I do. But I’m not gonna have the money to go back home for a while. I spent a lot on the move here, even after selling all my furniture and getting cheap stuff here I’m still struggling to get my savings in order. It’s gonna be a while before I can see him in person again,”

“You’ll get there, I’m sure he understands,” He took a hand off the wheel to rub her shoulder in assurance. “I could teach him how to shoot a gun or something, if he ever comes out here,”

“Phillip Zimmerman don’t you dare,” Elle laughed at the thought. “The last thing I need is my baby brother running around the city with that knowledge. I think my mother would faint,”

“I think you’ve done far more that would make your mother faint. Does Mrs. Blum know about your long list of rebellion?”

“What mama doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Her lips twisted into a sly smile.

“You’re trouble,” He murmured lovingly as they pulled into the parking lot of the diner.

“I’m your trouble,” She shot back as the two of them climbed out of the car.

She reached for his hand as they walked toward the chrome plated building, he gladly took hers.

“My trouble” He thought to himself with a smile. “Absolutely worth it,”

—————-

NOTES

Did you know that jiu jitsu was used by first wave feminists as a self defense technique? And that self-defense classes became more popular with women in the 1970s and 1980s? With Elle being a N.O.W. member, I would assume she’d take at least a class or two.

The 1972 presidential election was fascinating for a number of reasons. Nixon using the war as a way to get reelected, the beginning of the watergate scandal, McGovern’s vice presidential candidate having to drop out because of a mental health scandal. It was a whole mess!

The American Psychiatric Association didn’t remove homosexuality from it’s list of psychiatric disorders until 1973. The Rainbow flag won’t be created for another 6 years.

Taglist: @ladygrey03​ @tinydancer40

#a reason to believe #artb #ARTBmasterlist #flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x oc #flip x reader #flip x oc

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 7

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous  undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 3,557

Warnings:  racial slurs, anti-semitism, drinking, angst (sorry y’all)

Please go away little girl

Go away little girl

It's hurting me more each minute that you delay

When you are near me like this

You're much too hard to resist

So go away little girl before I beg you to stay

(x)

Flip spent more and more time with Elle. The two of them had very busy and sometimes conflicting schedules but he was more than willing to make it work. They started comparing schedules to find more time to spend together. His was more erratic than hers, as the klan could call him at just about any time and he’d have to go, but she’d wait up for his call on the nights he was working. Or he’d wake up early and they’d grab breakfast at the diner before her shift. Or he’d sleep over on Saturdays after they watched primetime. They’d find time in the odd hours of their days for one another, and Flip liked that.

It had been years since he’d had a relationship with this much work to it, but he wanted to make it work just for her. He wanted to be around Elle, even if it was just them grabbing coffee before the sun even rose. She shined bright enough to make it worth it.

The last few days had been a miss for the two of them, Elle’s shifts making it difficult to find a time for them to be together. They had the odd phone call here and there, and he found himself missing the smell of her hair or the sound of her laugh. He’d scold himself, he needed to be a professional and focus on the task at hand. He’d already given Ron shit about dating a girl who he’d met undercover, he’d never hear the end of it if he was caught sneaking out of the office to give Elle a call.

Jimmy knew about her, and how they’d been going steady the last few weeks. He knew that might as well have been centuries in Flip Zimmerman time. Information was pulled from him rather reluctantly. As much as he loved every little thing Elle did, a part of him wanted to keep her to himself. Keep her separate from his work life and his friends, if only until his undercover case was over. Jimmy offered that they come on a double date with him and his wife sometime, which Flip said he’d think about. He didn’t want to scare her off by inviting her on dates with a married couple. He knew they were moving fast, but there was a limit.

Not being able to share all the details of his job was probably the hardest part of their relationship. He wanted to tell her that he was undercover with a hate group that despised people like them, he wanted to tell her about how that was changing his mind about his own heritage. It had taken having such an intense level of hate spewed in his ears every day to finally understand that this effects him too, and that this really bothers him. He just didn't know how to explain that without also explaining the nature of his case, which was strictly forbidden by the department.

He’d seen it time and time before, undercover officers having huge fights with their spouses because of their jobs. The odd hours, the secrecy, it could chip away at even the sturdiest of marriages. He was determined to not let that happen to him. He made the fact that his job was difficult very clear, that sometimes he’d come home in an awful mood and won’t be able to talk about it, or that women might hit on him, but he will always be loyal to her. Elle would listen, empathy shining in her big brown eyes, and she would tell him she understood. She signed up for this, and they could work this out.

But things don’t always work out the way you’d like them too.

———

Ron had gotten the call right before him and Flip was about to leave for the night. They shared a look as he picked up the receiver and began to speak. They were the only two left in the office, the silence deafening as he tried to hear what was being said on the other line.

"Sure, sure, I'll meet you there. What's the address?" Ron said as he grabbed for a pen and paper.

"Uh huh, okay, I'll see you soon," He said, scribbling on the paper and hanging up the phone.

"That was Felix. He invited you to hang out with some of the guys at a bar on the north side,"

"Great," Flip muttered, getting up to take the address of his partner's desk. He read over the scribbled writing, trying to map out a route in his mind.

"Ready to get the wire?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, sure," He sighed, shoving the paper in his pocket.

The two moved to the equipment room to retrieve the wire and tape. Flip stood against the wall unbuttoning his shirt, leaving the undershirt exposed. He began ripping off sections of tape while Ron untangled the cord and battery pack.

"I'll be parked across the street, okay?" He said as he began to position the wire on his undershirt.

"No, park a little ways down the street. This bar isn't in a great area, you don't want them seeing you," Flip corrected, taping the wire into place on his own torso.

"Right, okay. I'll be there though. You remember everything from the last meeting?"

"I was there so yeah," He muttered, the last piece of tape securing the microphone on his chest. He buttoned his shirt back up and shoved the battery pack in his pocket, using his shirt tails to obscure any bulge.

"Alright, you probably don't have to stay long. Maybe just a beer," Ron continued, grabbing the recorder and heading out of the room.

"Yeah, lets make this one quick,"

-----

He pulled up and parked his car in the place Ron was going to originally park. He could see his compatriots through the dirty glass of the bar window. He sucked in a deep breath before crossing the street and opening the door. Country music and cigarette smoke filled the bar. Felix noticed him as he entered and motioned for him to join them at their table.

"Glad you could make it," He leered, a Coors in his grip.

"Yeah me too, thanks for inviting me out,"

"Get yourself a Coors and join us," It was clear that it wasn’t a suggestion.

Flip did just that. He wasn't really gathering any intel, he figured he wouldn't be once he got about 5 minutes into the conversation. They were just shooting the shit with one another. Bonding. He still needed to show face for a while, let them trust him. But he really wasn't enjoying it. 

At least being outside their normal bar made their conversations a little tamer. They’d peer around at the patrons in the bar, silently surveying and figuring out how much could be said. Nothing useful would be picked up on the mic tonight, but the more Flip hung out with them the more they would eventually reveal.

After he finished his beer, he told the group he was gonna step out for a smoke. He needed the break from their talk. They got exhausting really easily, even in a public setting. He shrugged his hunting jacket on and stepped out into the cool fall air. He took a breath of relief and pulled his cig box out of his pocket. It read Camel on the front, but there were hand-rolled ones on the inside. He tapped one into his hand and placed it between his lips. The spark of the lighter gave off a little bit of warmth, which was prolonged by the heated smoke that filled his lungs as he breathed in.

He knew it wasn't the best thing for him to be smoking. He'd seen the cancer reports. But his job was stressful and he needed this. Besides. Hand rolled ones were better for you. He took another drag and glanced behind him to see the guys all focus on each other and not minding him.

"I'll have another beer and then I'm going home," He mumbled just loud enough for the microphone to pick up. He couldn't see Ron's car but he knew he was close by.

He'd smoked about half his cigarette, he knew he should extinguish it soon and head back in. He was resigning himself to turn around and walk back into the bar. It took him a second to get the nerve to. That was when he heard a familiar voice.

"Flip?" He heard someone call from his left side. His body instantly froze. He wanted it to be a trick of the mind. No, he needed it to be.

He turned his head slowly, catching a glimpse of the guys in the bar, still not paying attention to him. He turned his head more to see Elle walking toward him, her nurse's uniform still on from her shift. Her necklace glinted under the streetlights glow.

"Flip, I thought that was you. I don't usually see you on this side of town," She smiled as she stopped beside him. Panic set it. What was he supposed to do?

"Yeah, its um, unexpected," He mumbled.

"Are you doing okay? You look pale," She moved her hand to check his forehead and he jerked away. He needed her to get away from this bar with these crazy racists. He needed her to be safe.

"I'm fine, don't worry. You should head on home though, it's pretty dark out,"

"You could always give me a ride," She winked. "It's been a while since you swung by, you've been busy or something?"

"Yeah, pretty busy," He trailed off as he glanced back in the bar. 

He was met with the steely gaze of Felix, staring back at him, eyebrow raised.

"Elle, I need you to get out of here. Now," He said without moving his mouth too much.

"What? Why?" She looked up at him, eyebrows furrowed.

"I can't tell you what's going on, you just gotta trust me," 

Felix was getting up and walking toward the door, the rest following behind shortly after.

"Flip, you're acting weird, is everything okay?" She looked toward the men, following his gaze.

"Eliana I can't be seen with you get the fuck out of here. Please," He pleased through gritted teeth.

"Excuse me?" Her tone shifted from worry to indignation. Her hands rested on her hips and she took a step closer to him. "You can't be seen with me? Is that what I just heard come out of your mouth?"

"Elle--" was all her managed to get out before he heard the door click open. His gaze flew to Felix, who was looking both of them up and down.

"She givin' you trouble?" He asked, eyeing the silver pendant around her neck.

He ran though every scenario of how this could go in his mind. She could accidentally call him by his real name, he couldn't let them know she knew him, he couldn't let her know he was undercover. This was a nightmare. There was no way out of this where someone didn't get hurt. 

He breathed in through his nose, resolute in what he had to do to keep her safe. Elle opened her mouth to speak but Flip beat her to the punch, trying to keep her from blowing his cover.

"She's just asking for directions. Told her I can't help her, but I do know where the nearest bakery is with an oven she can jump into,"

Her mouth hung open in shock, unable to take her eyes off him. His chest felt like it was filled with sand. What he said worked, but he knew there was no coming back from it. The guys laughed, flooding out of the bar to stand around her in a half circle.

"We can help make sure you get there, got some room in my trunk," Ivanhoe cackled, causing Felix to hit his arm to get him to shut up.

"It's not safe for women to be walking alone at night," The blond leered, taking a step closer to her. 

She didn't step back, daring instead to look up at him. If she was scared, she didn't show it. Felix reached his hand out, slowly pressing his index finger into the silver Star of David until his force pushed her back.

“You’re real pretty for a Jew,” He sneered, watching her stand up straight again, hands balled into fists at her sides.

Flip couldn't watch this anymore.

"There are a lot of bad guys on the streets, maybe you should go," His voice rumbled from his chest. He didn't have to nerve to look at her as he spoke, but he felt her gaze trained on him.

She stood there, looking at him for a few moments. He finally looked up and saw her eyes were glassy and pink. Her lip twitches and she drew her mouth tight to stop it. She was trying not to cry. His heart fell to his throat and he fought to regain control of his emotions. He has to do this. He had to keep both of them safe. This was for her own good.

He felt his breath hitch as she finally turned away, walking down the street at a quickened pace. His throat felt thick and he forced himself to swallow and take a breath. He couldn't seem upset. He just pushed away one of the best things in his life, and he had to act like it wasn't a problem. But it was. The shame was eating at him, he had to try to make this right. He swore that as soon as he could get out from being undercover he'd rush to see her.

She was a yard or so away when something glinted in the street lights and hit her in the head before falling to the ground with a clink. She stopped for a moment to acknowledge what just struck her. He couldn't quite make it out until he heard Ivanhoe snickering beside him. He motioned to his palm, which had a few pennies in it.

What a bunch of sick fucks.

“Dumb kike!” Ivanhoe held another up, ready to throw. Flip brought his hand up to stop him before he could even think about it.

"Quit it," He hissed.

The guys stopped to stare at him. He recovered his composure.

"She's not worth your money," the words dropped from his lips like poison, making himself feel ill as he spoke.

They laughed and she started walking again, not bothering to look back at him. He took a long drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke fill his lungs, blowing it out before extinguishing the flame with the heel of his boot.

------

He was finally able to leave the bar a half hour later. He said his goodbyes and got in his car and waited until he was around the corner before he sped off toward the station. He was being reckless, he knew it, but he needed this to be over.

He could see Ron's car tailing behind him and he pulled into the station's parking lot.

"Flip," He heard him call as he slammed his car door shut and walked into the building.

Ron caught up with him quickly, but didn't say anything more as they headed toward the equipment room. He almost tore a button off trying to get the wire out from his shirt and off his person. He realized Ron had heard everything. That his words would always be on record to haunt him. His mouth tasted bitter.

"I couldn't see, was that your girl you were talking to?" Ron asked quietly.

“Elle. Her name’s Elle. She’s Jewish. The guys were coming outside. I had to make her leave, she wasn't safe there," His voice threatened to crack as he slammed the wire on the table and walked back to his desk.

As quick as his large fingers would allow him, he dialed out the number to her apartment. He impatiently waited to hear anything but a dial tone, bit nothing ever came. He cursed to himself and slammed the receiver back down.

"Flip, I'm sorry man," Ron said quietly from his own desk.

"It's part of the job," he gritted through his teeth. "I gotta fix this,"

He took long strides down the halls of the station, letting doors slam behind him as he rushed into the cool night air. He threw himself in his car and peeled out of the parking lot towards Elle's place.

What was usually a fifteen minute drive took him eight. He skidded into a parking spot and ran toward the building. He saw the light on in her window, a sign that she had at least made it home. He sprinted up the stairs, skipping two or three steps at a time, until he reached her hallway.

He was out of breath when he reached her door, but he didn't care. He knocked a few times, calling her name softly.

"Elle? Open the door, I have to talk to you,"

No response. He tried again.

"Elle? Please, you gotta hear me out,"

No response again.

"Eliana I'm so sorry, I never wanted you to see me like that. But you gotta believe I was doing it to protect you. I needed you to leave. It was for your own safety. Look, I was undercover, thats my job for the CSPD. I’m an undercover cop and I was with a bunch of targets. They’re awful people, I needed you to get as far away from them as possible while keeping my cover or else they could have hurt us both,”

He heard the faint sound of her moving across her apartment, stopping in front of the door. He reached out and placed his palms on the wood in front of him, as if she could feel him.

"You can ask anyone at the station. I can't tell you what's going on, but I had to keep you safe, and I panicked and said a lot of things I deeply regret. I didn’t mean anything I said when I was with them, it was only to keep them from trying to hurt you. I told you, my job is dangerous. You have to believe me,"

His hands slowly balled up into fists as he was met with more silence. He placed his forehead against the door, eyeing the mezuzah on the frame, feeling a new wave of guilt wash over him.

"Elle, please," His voice got quieter. "I know what it looked like but I had to keep you safe by any means. I can't let anything happen to you. You're too important to me," He swallowed, as if to keep from choking on his words.

"I love you,"

He meant it.

He had to let her know, she had to know he loved her. That this wasn't some fling, that he'd fallen hard.

A beat of silence was followed by her muffled voice coming from the other side of the door.

"Find some other dumb kike to tell it to,"

It felt as though the wind had been knocked from his lungs. He collapsed on himself, letting his weight rest on the door. He knew now, nothing he could say could fix this. He fucked up. He felt tears sting in his eyes and a burning sensation in his nostrils as he leaned off the door and slowly made his way back down the hallway. He wasn't going to cry, he wouldn't let himself.

There was no coming back from this. The best thing he could do was stay out of her life, he'd just mess it up more if he tried to stay. Before he could process it, he was back in his car and driving down the street as though he were on auto pilot.

He arrived back at his quiet, empty, lonely apartment and padded inside. His coat slipped from his shoulders on to the floor as he walked toward the kitchen cabinet. From the top shelf he pulled a bottle of whiskey. He let the liquor burn his throat, anything to distract from the dull ache inside himself.

He sat at his kitchen table with the bottle, the only light coming from the dim lamp above him. He stayed there for a long time, unable to find the strength to move. He played out the night in his head maybe a hundred times. What he could have done differently, what he could have said differently. Was there anything he could have done to keep her in his life?

The hate he had to emulate to hang out with the klan had been slowly chipping away at him. The comments and assumptions, the subtleties and the outrights. He was managing on his own, but Elle being introduced to their hatred was burning him to his core. She deserved better than that. She deserved better than him.

He took another swig of whiskey. A part of him had worried this would happen. Every other relationship he’d had failed at least partially because of his job. Why should this one be any different?

Though everything sure felt different with Elle.

Maybe it was better to be alone.

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

NOTES

So this chapter was basically what brought about this entire story. I’d been thinking about what would happen if Flip was undercover and had to sacrifice a relationship to keep both him and his girlfriend safe? So uhhh sorry! There’s like 7 more chapters to go so obviously things will change. 

I take no pleasure in writing racial slurs of any kind, but I felt it was necessary in this instance. I try to keep any dialogue from the klansmen in this story to a minimum because the amount of shit that comes out of their mouths isn’t stuff i’d want to read or write. 

Smoking was still very popular in the 1970s, about half the population smoked. Warning labled were introduced on cigarette packs in 1971. By the 1980s, the population of smokers had decreased by about ten percent.

The origin for the slur k*ke has a few different theories

#flip zimmerman #flip x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #masterlist #ARTBmasterlist

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 5

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous  undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 5,897

Warnings: N$FW (smut), very brief mention of medical gore

Well you're dirty and sweet Clad in black, don't look back and I love you You're dirty and sweet, oh yeah Well you dance when you walk So let's dance, take a chance, understand me You're dirty sweet and you're my girl

(x)

As soon as the chief called him into his office and informed him he'd be going undercover with the Rookie, as the Rookie, in order to infiltrate the KKK, he knew he wouldn't be able to talk about this with Elle. Letting small day-to-day cases slip was one thing, but telling your Jewish girlfriend that you're hanging out with a bunch of white supremacists at a bar after hours? He didn't want to even think of her reaction.

He also wasn't going to mention that he already calls her his girlfriend in his mind. It had only been, what, a month? Way longer than any of the other relationships he'd had in the last few years, but he knew this was different. Elle was different.

But he couldn't think about that right now.

His focus was on the case. And how stupid this Rookie was for using his real name and his real voice while talking to the chapter leader. Flip tried to chalk it up to him being new, but this was just next level stupid. And now he was being dragged into this next level stupid plan.

So now here he was, wire taped to his chest, driving to meet a bunch of white supremacists in a parking lot on the far side of town. It was just another job. He just had to gather some intel and get out of there.

Or at least that's how it should feel.

He tried to think logically about it, but when his partner reminded him to take his necklace off before heading out, he took pause. While Jimmy and the Rookie stayed in the equipment room, Flip headed over to his desk. He unclasped the chain from his neck and held the delicate silver star up to the light.

He rarely took this necklace off. It was a gift from his grandfather, his mother's father, after he passed. It had been his grandfather's fathers from when they came over from Russia. His mother wasn't very pleased when he decided to wear it around his neck. But the cold silver resting against his skin became a comfort. He wore it along with his dog tags when he was in Vietnam, and under his uniform when he graduated from the police academy. He's had many women gingerly touch it while engaged in pillow talk, asking him questions he couldn't always answer.

And now here he was, taking it off for the first time in years, because he was infiltrating an organization that would kill him for wearing it. He rubbed the small pendant between his rough fingers, for luck maybe? He wasn't sure, it just felt right. He lowered it into his desk drawer, closing it away until this case was over.

He vaguely heard Jimmy call him from across the room and he snapped out of his thoughts. He was motioning for him to get a move on, it was time to go. Now wasn't the time to be sentimental, he had a job to do.

-----

Flip got back to the office much later than he thought he would. The clock on the wall of his office read 1AM when he stumbled in. He'd removed the wire from his shirt and helped Jimmy put the recorder back in the equipment room and then everyone said goodnight. He didn't want to talk about the night yet, and his partners looked too tired to process everything with him. So he waved them off and told them to get some sleep.

They said their good nights and he sat down at his desk to root around for a piece of paper. He wanted to write down some key things from the evening, before the couple of beers he had would make his memory fuzzy. He scrawled some quick thoughts down before sticking the paper in his drawer for safe-keeping. When he opened the drawer, his necklace glinted under the fluorescent lighting.

Instinct told him to put it back on, his brain told him to keep it off. This case might last a while. He could forget to take it off one day and could land him in a world of trouble. He thought about Elle, how her Star of David peered out from under the collar of her uniform, proudly on display despite anything she might face.

What time did she get off tonight? It was Friday, right? So she would have had the late shift. He looked at the clock. It read 1:30AM. She would have only gotten off shift a couple of hours ago, she might still be up. Without much thought he reached for the phone on his desk, entering her phone number on the rotary dial with a practiced ease.

He probably shouldn't remember her number this easily, or her work schedule, he thought to himself as the line rang. It picked up after two short rings, the line clicking to life.

"Hello?" Her voice reached his ears, making him breathe a sigh of relief he didn't know he was holding.

"Hey Trouble," He smiled to himself. "Did I wake you up?"

"Flip? It's 1:30 in the morning, it everything okay?" Her voice shifted, seeing worried.

"No, everything's fine. Sorry for calling so late. I had to stay late to finish a case tonight and, well, I know you work late on Fridays so I figured you might still be up. Do you want to go get food?"

"Food? At this hour? Is anything even open?"

"There's a diner that's open all night. Is that a yes?" He asked. He didn't want to sound too desperate but he really wanted to see her after tonight.

"I'll be ready in ten minutes, meet you out front?" He could already hear her shuffle around her apartment to get ready.

"See you then Trouble," He hung up the phone, grateful she picked up in the first place.

-----

Elle was waiting on the stoop of her apartment building when Flip's car pulled over to the sidewalk. She smiled as she saw him get out of the car and come over to the passenger side door to his car.

She was dressed casually, a pair of high waisted jeans and a t-shirt, with a corduroy coat to keep her warm. On her feet were a well-worn pair of tennis shoes. It was a far cry from her prim and proper uniform but she still looked great.

"Now what's a pretty girl like yourself doing out at this hour?" He asked as she approached him.

"A handsome but very nocturnal man asked me on a last minute date," She pressed her chest to his and stood on her toes to give him a quick kiss.

"Must be a pretty great guy to be up for him," He smiled as he opened the car door for her.

"Eh, he's alright," She winked as she slid into the seat.

They drove to the diner, which was a few blocks to the west. It was an old chrome building, reminiscent of the 50s, with a long front counter and pleather booths lining the window. They slid in to a booth and a waitress came over with a pot of coffee.

They both decided to order breakfast food. Pancakes with syrup for her and bacon and eggs for him.

"If that's okay with you," He said hurriedly once he realized he'd ordered pork.

"It's fine, don't worry," She waved a hand at him. "I don't care what anyone else eats. Besides, my family is reform. We aren't as strict about keeping kosher. My grandparents supposedly made some great pork schnitzel,"

"Alright then," He chuckled.

Their food came quickly and they wasted no time tucking in. He didn't realize how hungry he was until he smelled the bacon on the plate the waitress held.

"So how was your day?" She asked between bites of pancake

He chewed some eggs while he thought about how he was going to respond. A part of him wanted to tell her. He wanted to share his life with her, and have her share in return. He wanted to spend meals with them talking about their days.

On the other hand, he knew when he signed on for this job that discretion was mandatory. And he couldn't risk his life or his coworkers for just a girl. Though he knew she wasn't just some girl.

"Long," He finally settled on "I was still at the office when I called you, had to finish up some paperwork,"

"That's rough, did you finish it?" She asked.

"For now, its kind of an ongoing thing," He tried to keep things as vague as possible. "How about you?"

"Today was calmer than usual, just some broken bones and stomach pains. I stayed a little later to cover a girls shift, she had to run home to check on her own kid,"

"I like how broken bones is at the light end of your job's work spectrum," He smiled at her, she smiled back.

"It was a clean break on his radial,nothing was sticking out and the bone hadn't splintered. The guy fell off a ladder getting the leaves out of his gutter. He'll be fine," She explained.

"What's the grossest thing you've seen in the ER?" He asked, adding another forkful of bacon to his mouth.

"Flip, we’re eating," She cocked an eyebrow.

"I'm a detective, I see gross things all the time," He brushed her off. It couldn't have been anything he hadn't heard of before.

"One time a guy came in with legs burned so bad you could see parts of his bones sticking out. His skin, where there still was some, was completely cooked and a lot came peeling off with his clothes. He'd tried to sneak a cig while hooked up to his new oxygen tank and it exploded," she deadpanned, staring him dead in the eyes. "Most of the nurses had to leave the room to keep from throwing up. Burnt flesh doesn't smell too good,"

Flip stopped chewing. Elle cut another section of pancake and continued her meal.

"Alright, you win," He grimaced, pushing his plate away while thinking of how his bacon isn't too far off from her story.

"Can I eat your eggs?" She asked, clearly pleased with herself.

"Knock yourself out," He mumbled. "Maybe we should be hiring you to the force, you got a stomach of steel in you,"

"I'm good with nursing, but thanks," She scraped the remaining eggs on to her plate.

He watched her finish up her pancakes while he drank his coffee. She didn't notice at first, comfortable with the silence between them. When she finally looked up and noticed him staring, she smiled. He smiled back. Her smile fell a bit as she looked at him a little longer.

"You aren't wearing your necklace," She stated, pointing to his chest with her fork.

"Oh, yeah, I took it off earlier. Must've forgotten to put it back on," He looked down, met with the bare skin on his clavicle that normally held the tiny silver star.

"It looks strange to not see it on you," She admitted, finishing her pancakes and pushing the plate next to Flip's.

"I'll put it back on soon," He assured her. He didn't know when "soon" was, but he wanted it back on too.

He tried to toss some bills on the table after the waitress put the check down. Elle immediately covered his hand with hers.

"I can pay for my own," She stated.

"I was the one who dragged you out at 2 in the morning, let me get this one," He said, turning his hand up so he could hold hers.

"Alright," Her eyes flirting between his gaze on her and his hand holding hers. "But I'm paying the next time we do this,"

"Deal," He agreed, giving her hand a squeeze before pulling away.

They drove back to her apartment building, windows down to let in some of the fresh air. It wasn't too cold out yet, and Flip was eager to get in the last bit of warm weather. As he pulled up to the sidewalk outside her building she turned to him.

"I have a some beer in the fridge, do you want a nightcap?" She asked.

Despite turning her down several times, he was appreciative that she'd still ask. Today was stressful, and he was damn near exhausted. He'd have to report to chief first thing in the morning to talk about the assignment and he knew he should head home.

But home felt less and less like home recently. It was a lonely apartment, barely room for two people. There didn't seem to be room in his life for another person. But when he looked into her big brown eyes, he wanted to make room, just for her.

"Sounds good," he said, turning the engine off and following her up to her apartment. He mentally checked to make sure nothing conspicuous was hanging out of his car in case anyone walked by, on the very off chance.

The walk up to her floor was quiet, with him trying not to stare at her ass too much as he followed her up the stairs. Her jeans clung to her figure, moving with her as she swayed her hips. He willed himself to think of literally anything else.

She opened the door to her apartment, letting them both in, before closing and locking it.

———

“So you’re telling me that you can’t handle one story about bones poking out but they made you a detective?” Elle smirked.

It was only a few moment later that they found themselves sitting at her kitchen table. They both held their own Coors in one hand, their other hands just barely touching one another from across the table. It wasn’t long before the conversation had turned back to gross job stories.

“I’m not a homicide detective, its narcotics. We deal with drugs more than death,” He countered.

“That explains why that guy you were harassing at my job was such a pain. I had to stop the girls from using one kind of pain medication because it was messing with his blood pressure. He must’ve had something in his system still,”

“You’re such a good nurse, treating suspected mafia affiliates even when they’re handcuffed to the bed,” He teased, his large fingers moving to cover her hand.

“It made it harder for him to try and grab my ass,” She laughed, turning her palm upward so she could trace her fingers along his hand.

“Kinda sad I couldn’t see you in your uniform today, it’s a good look on you,” 

“Well, find a new criminal to arrest and maybe you’ll see me at work again,” She leaned a little closer to him, her voice dropping to a sensual tone. 

“Do you think I could get away with a grab Nurse Blum?” He matched her motions.

“I think I’d let you get away with it, as long as I get something out of it too,”

“What do you want?” His voice was low, both of them barely breathing as he waited for her answer.

She leaned over the corner of the table separating them, bracing herself in the wood as her lips met his. She tasted of Coors, and he was sure he did too.

His hand fully covered hers as he kissed back. He wanted this. He wanted her. He knew his job was demanding and that his timing was shit for deciding this after starting an undercover operation. But Elle was different, he could feel it. She was good for him, and he wanted to be good for her in return.

His hand left hers and reached out to stroke her waist, encouraging her to come closer. She got the message and moved from her chair to his lap while continuing the kiss. His tongue brushed along her bottom lip, begging for entrance that she soon granted.

They must've looked like a couple of teenagers, making out at the kitchen table when the adults weren't supervising. She angled herself so she was straddling his lap, the seams of their jeans touching. He could feel himself start to strain against the denim, he was sure she'd feel it too. He held her to his frame, one hand on the small of her back, one hand in the back pocket of her Levi's.

She broke the kiss, lips flush from contact and eyes hooded with lust.

"Stay the night?" She asked.

They'd been dancing around this for weeks. She'd asked him before, and he declined because of work. But work be damned, he wanted her. He was sure of this, he wanted to give into his feelings for once and let himself have more than a one night fling. And Eliana Blum was more than a one night fling.

"Please," his voice was low and too needy for his liking but she didn't mind.

She smiled at him, rubbing her nose against his before giving him a quick kiss. She got up from his lap, taking the hand that rested in her jean pocket and lightly tugging him out of his seat. He followed her across the small apartment into her open bedroom.

She pulled him into a heated kiss as they stood in the dim light, the back his legs knocking against the bed frame. She let him sit down on the edge before standing between his legs. She ran a hand through his hair and looked down at him. Her curls were falling in her face but didn’t obscure her eyes as she looked at him with adoration.

She moved his hand to the fly of her jeans, giving him silent permission to undress her. He obliged, his large fingers unbuttoning the denim encasing her hips.

He slid the fabric of her tucked in t-shirt up her stomach. Slowly, as if unwrapping a present. When he reached just under her breasts he stopped, not wanting to go further without her permission.

She lifted his hands higher, letting him come into contact with the lace covering her plush chest. Her shirt left her body, allowing her to stand in front of him in just her jeans and the lace bra that did nothing to conceal her pink nipples. He groaned at the sight, pressing forward to bury his face in the valley between her breasts.

Her skin was soft and warm around him, he could feel her heart fluttering in her chest. He was careful not to scratch her perfect skin with his facial hair as he turned his head, eager to watch as he brushed a finger over a pert nipple. Her back arched ever so slightly as she let out a shaky breath.

Her hands once again guided his own down to her unbuttoned jeans. He tugged the denim down her figure, revealing a pair of smalls that were made of the same lace as her bra. He chuckled to himself as she stepped out of her jeans. He ran his hands up her thighs as he spoke.

"Do you always wear stuff like this?"

"I might have been hoping you'd stick around tonight," She smiled. "I dressed accordingly,"

She braced her hands on his chest and straddled his lap, bringing herself down to his level.

"I'm glad I chose to stay then," He murmured before pulling her into a kiss.

They kissed passionately, her arms looping around his neck to bring him closer. He clutched her waist, holding her firmly against his growing erection. She rolled her hips against him, making him stifle a moan against her lips.

"I think I'm a little overdressed," He whispered in her ear.

She kissed him again, moving her delicate fingers to unbutton his flannel. Her hands worked to slide the fabric from his shoulders. They broke apart long enough for his undershirt to be pulled over his head, the two of the quickly meeting again as she began to un-do his jeans. He stopped her just as she began to tug down the heavy denim.

"Lie down sweetheart, lemme take care of you," He lifted her from his lap, placing her in the center of the bed.

He stood up and let his pants slide off, kicking them into the pile of clothes growing on her floor. As soon as he was freed he covered her bare frame with his own, propping his weight on his elbows at either side of her head. She palmed at him through the cotton of his boxers, making him let out a low moan.

He kissed down her neck to her chest, teasing her through the lace. She arched her back enough for him to unclasp the bra and he slowly pulled away the fabric, leaving her bare in front of him. He brought his calloused palm across her soft skin, stopping to roll a nipple between his fingers.

Her eyes shut and she let out a moan so pretty it made him twitch. He had to make her do that again. He traveled further down her figure, stopping at the apex of her thighs.  

The lace of her smalls, much like her bra, did little to conceal her. He ran a tentative stroke down from the waist and over to her core, ghosting over her clit. She let out a whine, biting her lip to keep quiet.

"Let me hear you sweetheart," He murmured, pulling at the elastic at her hips.

"Flip I have neighbors," She warned "We can't be too loud,”

"What are they gonna do? Call the cops?" He smirked, sliding the fabric down her legs to fully expose her to his gaze.

"You're pushing your luck Zimmerman-" Her scolding was cut off with a yelp as he buried his face between her thighs without warning.

He took a deep breath, letting the scent of her dark curls surround him as he moved her legs further apart. He curled his arms around her thighs, keeping her still as he went to work.

He flattened his tongue and ran it along her slit, groaning as he finally got to taste her. He’d barely begun before he felt his chin start to grow wet. It only encouraged him to work harder, to collect every drop of her she gave him. A hand reached down to run through his hair as his mouth moved against her. Flip looked up to watch her, to see how she was reacting to his ministrations. The sounds she was making were delicious but the sight of her splayed out on her sheets, hair fanned out around her, eyes closed and mouth open to a perfect “o”, he could've died happy right then.

He unhooked an arm from around her thigh, bringing it to her entrance and brushing against it lightly. Her hips bucked up involuntarily and he slowly slid a thick finger inside, relishing the way she moaned in response. His mouth moved to focus on her clit as he pumped in and out of her, adding another finger when she was begging for more. He held her hips down with his other arm as she began to rock her hips against his face.

She was calling his name, the hand in his hair tightening its grip as she grew closer and closer to climax. It wasn't long before his own hip started rocking, rutting against the mattress in an attempt to relieve the pressure building below.

“Fuuuuck,” She groaned as she threw her head back onto the pillow. “You feel so good, I don’t think I--,”

“You don’t have to baby, let go for me, I wanna hear you,” He wanted to see her come undone under him. He wanted to taste her, please her, take care of her.

The pace of his fingers sped up, making sure to brush up against her walls in a way he’d learned through experience drove girls crazy. Sure enough, she squirmed under him and rolled her hips toward him. His tongue eagerly pressed against her clit, spelling out incoherent phrases as she squealed above him.

He could feel her tighten around him, like a coiled spring ready to release. Her whole body was tensing under him, he looked back up to her face, watching her eyes squeeze shut and her free hand grasp at the sheets as she tried to ground herself. With a few more stroked of his fingers and expertly drawn letters with his tongue, she was trying to choke out words meant for him.

“Flip, I’m— I’m—” was as far as Elle got before she interrupted herself with a desperate moan.

With his fingers curled against her g-spot and his mouth sucking against her clit, she came. The fingers intwined in his hair were shaky as she loosened her grip, the aftershocks of her orgasm still flowing through her. He coaxed her down from her high, gently moving against her until her body began to squirm from overstimulation. He wiped his face on his arm, licking off any cum she managed to get on his mustache before crawling back up her body to meet her face again.

“How was that?” He asked, pressing kisses against her flushed skin.

Her eyes fluttered open and she untangled her hand from his hair, using it to guide his lips to hers. She kissed him, no doubt tasting herself; a thought that caused him to let out a muffled moan.

“If you keep giving me orgasms like that, I might have to keep you around,” She murmured.

He felt pride swell in his chest and he pulled her into another kiss. His rock-hard erection was pressing into her thigh and she shifted slightly in order to give him some much-needed friction. He rutted against her before he could stop himself and she laughed against his lips.

“I think it might be my time to take care of you,”

Elle reached down and stroked him through the fabric of his boxers. A small wet patch was collecting on the fabric as she pulled them down past his hips and his long limbs. He inhaled sharply as the cool air hit his hot member. He was so hard he was throbbing, the head turning purple from neglect. He shifted his hips, looking for any relief he could get.

“I’m on the pill,” She said suddenly. She looked up at him, big brown eyes breaking through the lust to address something serious. “I have some condoms too, if you want,”

He’d heard of “the pill”. Birth control had only been made available for unmarried women last year. Before it had been only for married couples, and only if the husband allowed it. Some of the men in the office weren’t very trusting of it, saying it made women more promiscuous. He’d been the victim of a pregnancy scare before, so he wasn't against the use of contraceptives. He’d wear condoms with his one night stands, despite them feeling a little too snug against him sometimes. He wanted to be tied down for the right reasons with the right woman, not because of a preventable accident.

Though the way Elle was currently looking at him made him sure he didn’t want a condom. He wanted to feel every inch of her as best he could.

“Pill’s fine, I’m clean,” He growled pouncing back on top of her.

The two of them were frantic, desperate to explore every inch of one another. Their hands moved across each other’s bodies, groping and tweaking and kissing. He was above her, pressing her body into the mattress with his weight, his cock nudging at her entrance. She pushed him up, using her body weight to roll him on to his back while straddling his thighs.

“I want to be on top,” She bit her lip, awaiting his reaction.

His cock stood at attention, he was more than okay with this change in positions.

“Anything you want,” He murmured, running his hands along her waist to steady her.

She stroked him a few times before lining herself up with him. She held his cock in place, using the precum gathering at his slit to lubricate her movements. His breath hitched, giving in to her touch. His hands grasped at her hips, calloused thumbs brushing over her smooth skin. She lowered herself so the tip of his cock was just at her entrance.

“Are you ready for me sweetheart?” He asked.

She nodded, pushing down slowly, letting him penetrate her. He was on the larger side, and he knew it. He was used to girls eyes widening upon seeing it, or having to take a minute to adjust to his size. Elle moved slowly, rocking her hips to find an angle that would let him in deeper. She went too fast at one point, whimpering as her hands flew to his chest to steady herself.

“Take your time, I dont want to hurt you,” He coaxed, using a thumb to press small circles into her clit.

She gasped, eyes fluttering closed. She slowly impaled herself as he watched, her pussy stretching to fit every inch of him. When she finally sunk all the way down, she let out a moan.

“Fuck you're big,” Her voice was strained, straddling between pleasure and pain.

“You're taking me so well baby,” He stilled his hand as she got used to his size. After a moment she began to ride him, taking him slow at first.

She was warm and wet, her walls hugging him like velvet, fitting him like a glove. He tried not to rock his hips too much as she worked him, letting her take over. It was becoming harder as she began to go a little faster.

“Fuck, you’re perfect. I think you're pussy was made for me,” He moaned.

Her hands gripped his shoulders as her body moved over his, stopping right at the end of his shaft before sinking back down to the hilt. They moaned together, his hands pressing into her delicate skin as he felt his heart flutter in his chest.

He’d spent countless nights with women in their beds, and he could safely say no one he’d ever been with felt as good as Elle. Sex had just been sex up until tonight, a way to relieve stress and have a little fun. But this was different, he thought. The way she was riding him, her tight cunt squeezing him as the head of his cock nudged at her cervix, her breasts bouncing, nipples pink and pert. Every thrust pulled a moan from her parted lips, each sounding sweeter than the last.

“You’re gorgeous,” He groaned, moving his hands to palm at her breasts, tweaking pebbled flesh with calloused fingers.

Her hips jerked forward, and she lowered her body to be closer to him. She cupped a hand to his cheek and kissed him passionately. He took control of their movements, lifting his hips to meet hers, a hand snaking down to brush against her clit.

“Please don’t stop,” She moaned.

He could feel her tightening around him again. It’d felt great when it was just his fingers, but her cunt pulsing around his cock was enough for him to contemplate passing out from pleasure. She was getting close, and he was nearing climax himself. He wanted her to go over the edge first though, feel her around him.

“Don’t stop what? This?” He asked, his hand stilling against her clit.

She whined at the loss of contact.

“Flip, please!”

“Please what?” He thrust into her harder, the headboard of the bed knocking into the wall. She was barely holding on.

“Use your words sweetheart, I know you got that filthy little mouth, tell me what you want me to do to your pretty little cunt,” He cooed, loving the little whimper she gave when he called her sweetheart.

His hand rested at her clit, taking care to not brush over it as he thrusted. He nipped at her breast as it bounced her his face. He curled his tongue to flick over a nipple before drawing it into his mouth to suck. She cried out, desperation taking over dignity.

“Please Flip, let me come. I want to cum all over your big cock, it feels— fuck— you feel so good inside me,” She babbled as she bounced on him.

He drew a sharp breath, considering her pleads.

“You wanna cum all over my big cock? Huh?” He pressed tight circles against her clit, her body jerking at the touch. “Do it. Come for me,”

That was all it took for her to go over the edge. Elle’s body seized up before going slack, draping over his own frame. She called out his name, pussy squeezing around him rhythmically as he continued to thrust. He began to feel his hips move erratically.

“I’m close Elle,” He gritted out, giving her a fair warning.

“Cum inside me,” She panted before pulling him into another fierce kiss.

With just a few shallow thrusts, he plunged deep inside her as he came. Thick ropes of cum coated her walls as he grunted. His whole body shuddered, hands flying to pull her deeper into the kiss.

Once they’d both calmed down, he continued to lazily move his hips against hers, letting them both come down from their high. This was perfect. The way their bodies connected, the way she was kissing him like it was the end of the world, he wasn’t sure he’d ever get enough.

She finally broke the kiss, letting them both catch their breath before she spoke.

“How was that?”

“I’m about to call off work and spend the next week between your legs,” His voice was deep and filled with lust.

She laughed, smacking him lightly in the arm.

“How was it for you?” He asked.

“I’m not sure I’m gonna be able to move fast enough to deny you of that. My legs are jelly right now,” She touched her nose to his as she spoke.

He gently guided her off his cock, groaning at the sight of his cum trickling down her inner thigh. His member was soaked as well, a testament to how satiated they both were. Before he could help her lie next to him she crawled down his body, her head occupying the space her cunt possessed moments ago.

“Where are you doing?”

“Just cleaning up,” She ginned, placing her hands on either of his sturdy thighs before licking the head of his cock.

His breath hitched. He would become overstimulated very quickly but he couldn't bring himself to stop her. He watched this gorgeous woman trail her tongue up his shaft, cleaning him if their cum. Was is possible for him to orgasm twice?

Elle looked up at him with hooded eyes as she kitten-licked over his frenulum, coating her tongue with seed. He groaned much louder than intended, gently pulling her off him before positioning her on the bed.

“What are you doing?” She asked, propping herself up on her elbows so she could look down as he kissed her inner thigh.

“Just cleaning up,” He smirked before licking a wide stripe up her wet cunt.

Yeah, he wasn’t going to be able to get enough of this.

--------

NOTES

There aren’t a ton for this chapter, but here is a brief history on birth control from a publication that first appeared in the 1970s. It was one of the first books of its kind, giving women access to information about their health and about sexuality.

Different Jews have different feelings about keeping kosher. I had friends in college who kept kosher all through undergrad and grad school, and I had friends who would only do it for Passover. I have friends where they don’t even like the smell of pork and I have friends who chow down on bacon when we go to a diner. They’re all Jewish. But all in all, don’t be a dick about people’s religious dietary restrictions.

Elle’s story about a patient could be a true story. Oxygen tanks and cigarettes are not friends

#flip zimmerman #flip x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #flip x oc #flip zimmerman x oc #clyde logan #ARTBmasterlist #masterlist

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 4

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous  undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 4,743

Warnings: none

Still don't know what I was waitin' for And my time was runnin' wild A million dead end streets and Every time I thought I'd got it made It seemed the taste was not so sweet So I turned myself to face me But I've never caught a glimpse How the others must see the faker I'm much too fast to take that test

(x)

It had been a week and a half since Rosh Hashanah. A week and a half since dinner at Elle’s, and Flip was just finishing up the last of the leftovers. He’d eaten it most nights for dinner, the Tupperware slowly leaving its shelf in the fridge for the sink once emptied of its contents. He figured he should bring the last of it for lunch though, and so he stood in the break room at work on his lunch break, heating up the meal in the microwave as his coworkers moved around him. Most were at their desks, but some lingered in the room waiting for the coffee pot to finish brewing the latest pot. 

"Nice Tupperware Zimmerman," His partner, Jimmy, teased as pointed to the pink plastic lid. "Did you buy that yourself? Taking a break from plaid?"  

"I borrowed it actually, your wife's been taking good care of me while you've been working late," He was used to having his coworkers shit talk one another, himself included. Jimmy just brushed it off with a chuckle.

"So you're seeing someone then? Does she know she's not getting her Tupperware back?" He asked.

"Oh, I think she will be,"

"You know that means you gotta see her again, right?"

"Yeah, that is generally how that works," He rolled his eyes.

"Flip Zimmerman, are you telling me you're dating someone?" The corners of Jimmy’s mouth turned up into a shit-eating grin as he spoke.

Flip shrugged his shoulders in response, willing the microwave to hurry up so he can leave.

"It's about time you joined the rest of us, can't be a bachelor for forever," He slapped his shoulder and walked out of the room, whistling a David Bowie song as he went.

He'd been the resident bachelor of the office for a while now, most of his coworkers were married and having kids, or already divorced. He'd listen to them complain about their lives and how hard it was sometimes and joke about trading places with Flip.

He shrugged it off, being married didn't sound to bad. It was way too early to think about anything like that with Elle though. And she said she was a feminist, did she even want to get married? He walked back to his desk and began to eat the last of the leftovers, trying to push any thoughts of matrimony out of his mind. It became increasingly hard though after eating a few bites, the leftovers tasted just as good as the first night. His mom always told him to find someone who could cook.

-----

Flip wasn't thrilled about having stakeout duty that night. It was sprung on him earlier that day by Chief Bridges, much to his displeasure. He attempted to call Elle at home, let her know he wouldn't be able to break fast with her for Yom Kippur like they planned. He gave up after about ten rings, she didn't seem to be in a hurry to pick up. He tried to recall if this was a holiday where she wasn't supposed to be using a phone, but couldn't remember. He'd make it up to her that night, bring her takeout or something. If he got off at a reasonable hour.

He and his partner were going to be helping a rookie infiltrate a rally, which was pretty slow work compared to the last few cases he was on. But at least he wouldn't be the one having to physically be in the action, he could listen from the comfort of his car, monitoring what came through the wire.

The rookie, Ron, had been working in the records room up until that day. He was the first, and only, black cop in the whole city. He admired the guy for that, but he was still pretty green to be out working on the street. But seeing as the rally was being led by a former black panther it's not like they had a ton of options in undercover officers.

He and Jimmy sat in his car across the street, listening to Ron flirt with a girl outside the venue. They shared a look of mild annoyance, hoping he wouldn't forget what he was there for. Thankfully, when it was time to listen he got every word of the speech on tape.

It was a powerful speech, he could admit it to himself. He didn't really get everything that was being said, but there was a lot of charisma and force behind the words. Once the speaker started mentioning the crowd should arm themselves against police, he felt a little funny. He didn't want to think he was a bad guy for his profession. Sure he'd seen other cops do bad things, even cops in his own precinct, but he didn't think everyone should be punished for it. He thought about it on the drive back to the station, but kept it to himself.

After debriefing the chief, he could finally head home for the evening. Luckily, he was out the door by 10:30, early enough that Elle would probably still be awake. He drove the route to her place, stopping at his favorite Chinese place to pick up some egg rolls and fried rice. He placed it in the passenger seat, listening to the radio and enjoying a cig while he drove.

He parked in front of her apartment, circling around back to take the clean plastic tubs out of his trunk and stack it with the takeout bins. He looked up at her apartment window to see it dark. He frowned to himself and extinguished his cig on the pavement. Surely she wasn't asleep already, did she go out somewhere? Did she give up on him at sundown and go out to get her own food? A twinge of guilt ran through him at the possibility. Maybe he should have tried to call her again.

Just as he was about to retreat back to his car he heard his name being called from down the street. He turned to see Elle walking toward him, in uniform. Her hair was down and nurses' cap in hand.

"Hey Trouble," He called back.

"Hey Zimmerman," She greeted as she stopped in front of him. She looked dead on her feet.

"I thought you weren't supposed to work today?"

"I wasn't. But they were seriously short staffed, I had to go in to cover for people," She didn't sound too happy about it.

"How does that work though? You aren't supposed to work. Did you eat anything then?" He was suddenly alarmed that she could have been fasting on the job.

"I had some crackers once sundown hit, I didn't have time to run out and get food after. I just wanted to get home as fast as possible-" she started.

Her eyes began to widen in realization halfway through her sentence, she let out a gasp.

"I didn't call you to tell you! Oh shit I'm so sorry, were you waiting here the whole time?!"

"No, I was held back at work, I just got here. Come on, I have takeout, you need to get some food in you," He placed his hand on her lower back and they walked toward her building.

They made their way upstairs in silence. He watched as her feet fell heavily onto the steps of the staircase, seemingly out of pure exhaustion. He also noticed she wasn't wearing the nurses' uniform from the last time he saw her in work clothes. The dress had been replaced with a long shirt and a pair of white slacks. They looked good on her, and seemed far more practical than a dress.

She opened the door to her apartment and collapsed onto the couch in her living room, prying her shoes off her feet. Flip went to the kitchen to put the Tupperware down and called to her.

"You good with egg rolls and fried rice?" He asked.

"That sounds so perfect right now," She groaned. He could have sworn he heard her stomach growl as she spoke.

"You need to eat," He called back, opening the containers and fishing out some silverware from her drawers. "Don't worry about taking too much, you need it more than I do,"

"You're the best," she all but moaned. He tried to ignore how those words made him feel.

"So what happened today that you needed to go in?" He asked. 

He was met with an exasperated sigh before she began to speak,

"It's a long story. Somehow the scheduling got messed up. One of the secretaries was getting married and a bunch of the nurses are either bridesmaids or were invited and so there was basically no one there today. And that would have been fine but our patient intake was way up today, some early virus going around. I tried telling them that it was a holiday when they called but they just sounded so overwhelmed and I would have felt guilty for not coming in. It was chaotic today but we made it work. The fucking doctors were no help though."

"Remind me not to go to your hospital then," he smirked, bringing the takeout over to her.

She gratefully accepted, kissing him on the cheek as thanks as he sat next to her on the couch.

Unless you come in wearing my uniform you'll be fine. The issue was that I got in trouble for my uniform even though it's totally okay according to the employee handbook," she said between mouthfuls of eggroll.

"What? How'd that happen?"

"Well, I was looking over the dress code because I'm sick of trying to work in that damn dress and it says women can wear pants. So I went to the uniform station and spoke to the ladies to see if they had any extras laying around. And they told me they never had any to begin with! Which is crazy because if it's in the handbook we really should have it,”

“So I went to the store and bought my own pattern and fabric and made the uniform exactly to the specifications of the handbook. Using my own money, by the way, and I wore it to work today. The girls I worked with loved it, a few asked to borrow the patten, but then one of the doctors I work with told me it was inappropriate and he wouldn't work with me because the patients would find it distracting!"

"That's frustrating," he commented, taking a bit of his own egg roll.

"Oh, that's not even the end of it," she continued, holding up her index finger. "So I told him I was up to code and he couldn't say anything. And so he spent the rest of the day undermining me in front of the patients. Even when he was wrong! But it's not like I can correct him because patients always believe the doctors over us. And then I had to stay late for an emergency case. This guy was so drunk his blood might as well have been whiskey. So we revive him and once he comes to the first thing he does is grab my ass! And the fucking doctor says it my fault because of my uniform! So I'm working on a holiday, fucking starving the whole time, and I'm getting fucked over by my staff and groped! I’m not even supposed to be there!"

"That's fuckin’ shitty," he sympathized. 

She threw up her hands as if to say ‘don’t I fucking know it’ before going back to eating.

"So that was my day, how was yours?"

"Pretty calm, lots of paperwork," He said as he settled into the plush fabric of the couch. He wasn't about to share his work with her fully, most was classified anyway.

"Wanna trade? I'm sure you could figure out how IVs work," She teased.

"I could accidentally stick that doctor with a needle," He teased back.

"I don't think that'd go over well. He's been there for a long time, and doesn't seem to think any of the nurses can do their job. Even though we've had to correct his work more than a few times. He once prescribed a patient a dose that could've sent her into diabetic shock," She grumbled.

"You can do his job better, and in heels," He smiled, placing a hand on her thigh, "And you look better doing it too I bet,"

"You flatter me," She put her hand on top of his and gave it a squeeze. "That takeout was delicious by the way, I might have to keep you around just for that,"

"I'm not the best at cooking, but I do know the best takeout places around," He laughed.

"I can show you how to make some stuff, cooking isn't really that hard. Just takes some time,"

"I'd like that Elle," He said, letting her rest her head in his lap, her legs curling on the arm rest.

"So did you really just do paperwork today? Are you holding out on me with juicy police stories?" She asked, looking up at him with her big brown eyes.

"That's confidential," He smiled down at her.

"Ooh, so serious," She furrowed her brow before laughing. "I get it, don't worry,"

"I'm glad. You know there's gonna be stuff I'm not going to be able to talk about. Right?"

"Ten-four, Zimmerman," She saluted. "But you do look a little dazed. Like you're thinking about something. I'm here if you wanna talk ever,"

He was silent for a beat. He wanted to open up to her, but he didn't want to bring work home with him as well. He decided talking about the issue as if it was someone else's might work best.

"One of the guys in the office was around for the Charmichael rally tonight over on the other side of town. He'd heard his speech and a lot was aimed at overthrowing police officers and making threats against us. It all seemed a little dramatic," He said hesitantly.

"That sounds a little scary. Do you think they'd do that?" She asked, letting him thread his fingers through her hair absentmindedly.

"No. Maybe. I don't know. I don't think it sounded serious from what I heard, but hearing that a whole group of people want you dead isn't great,"

"I don't think everyone does. Not everyone in every movement is going to come from the same place. I mean, did Martin Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X agree on how to achieve black liberation?" She reasoned.

"No. But it seems like this group was more for Malcolm X," 

"Doesn't mean everybody is. Look at women's lib. People can barely agree on anything. It's a wonder we get anything done at all,"

"Really?" He didn't know anything about that.

"Oh yeah. There are so many schools of thought and so many opinions it's hard to keep track. You get women who want to burn their bras and the congress building, and women who think we should be as appealing to men as much as possible to get stuff done, and everything in between,"

"Have you burned any bras recently?"

"Mmmm, not since college," she winked at him. Cheeky.

"But you all want the same thing, right? So why can't anyone agree?"

"I mean, it's hard to explain. We all want equality, yeah. But different people have different ideas of what that looks like. I'm sure it's the same with the black liberation movement. There were plenty of Afro American women who felt left out of the big organizations back in New York. And lesbians. Equality looks different for them than it does for just your average housewives. And ignoring that can divide people,"

"I suppose you're right," He started thinking about the station and the people who worked there. "We had exclusively white male officers until about a month ago. We have a rookie on the force now. A black man. Some of the officers haven’t been very welcoming,"

"He's probably having a hard time, huh? It's hard to be the different one. especially when you’re the only different one," She adjusted her head in his lap, making sure he didn’t pull his hand away from her hair. 

"I think he'll be okay, he's working hard. He'll fit in soon,"

"I hope so, but what does he think of all this? Does he know it won't always be this way for him? I can't imagine it's easy, especially with the officers giving him a hard time like you said,"

"I guess so. I've heard some comments about him from some officers. Some don't seem to think he should be there, that he's only there for diversity,"

"Is that true? Did he pass the same tests and standards that got you there? Or any other officer?"

"Yeah, and I didn't say I agreed with them," He felt the need to defend himself from her line of questioning.

"Did anyone ever give you shit about being Jewish? Can't imagine the department is overflowing with us,"

"It's not. And I don't really talk about it so I'm not sure if anyone really knows besides my partner. It doesn’t exactly come up in conversation," He explained. "Is it just you and your coworker at your job?"

"Yeep," She popped the p. "And people have been kind enough to mind their business here, but past jobs haven't been as gracious. And let me tell you, working in a place where you don't feel wanted sucks,"

"So what now then? The rookie might not enjoy being the rookie, what can be done?"

"Treat him like anyone else. You guys treat each other like brothers right? The force is a fraternity. So if someone's giving him shit, be a brother and stick up for him,"

"Maybe you should do some motivational speaking at the station," His lips held a faint smile.

"I'll hold a syringe when I do it, see if they jump higher than you did," She teased, cuddling closer to him. "And for the record, I think it's great that the CSPD is making an effort to be more diverse. Might eventually ease out some of the racism in this town,"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I just mean having an all white police force but a diverse civilian population is kinda strange isn't it? It's not exactly balanced,"

"The guys hired were hired because they were the best at the job," He defended.

"So the fact that you have your first black officer in 1972 is completely separate from the fact that the civil rights movement was less than a decade ago," Her eyebrow raised, clearly up for a debate.

"The police are there to protect citizens, were just doing our job,"

"Uh huh, that's what the police said in Germany too while upholding racist laws. Even before the war began, they openly discriminated against Jews. Did you know we weren't considered citizens after 1938? And before that, we couldn't open businesses or marry any goyim. Based on us being labeled as a different race. Just because something is a law doesn't mean it's just,"

"Yeah but that's Germany in Wold War II, everyone knows the Germans were awful-"

"Flip, listen. My parents gave up everything to get to America. They had to leave their family and friends, most of their possessions, and their almost all of their money, just to get out of a country that didn't even see them as human beings. They were harassed by police the whole way, and when they came to America it wasn't much different. They stopped speaking German because during the war people would call them traitors, they stopped speaking Yiddish in public so people would stop calling them dirty kikes. That lived in one of the poorest neighborhoods in the city, a place where police would sometimes take hours to arrive after being called because no one wanted to go there. And honestly, after 30 years, not much has changed. Police can be racist, they're just people at the end of the day and people have their own agendas. Not to accost your job, but you have to realize that to some extent."

He thought about her words, contemplating all she had said. It's hard to think what you stand for could be wrong. There were people on the police force who had messed up, hurt people on the job, but the brotherhood did their best to protect their own. It's a hard job and they tried to assume the best of people in their ranks. He didn't know things like that had happened in Germany. Sure, he learned about the holocaust but no one in his family had been though it. His family came from Russia in the late 1800s, they'd been in America for generations at this point. He'd never bothered to ask why they moved here, now he wondered if there was an underlying problem that spurred it.

"I understand what you're saying," He said carefully, his hand stilling in her hair.

"That's all I need," She spoke softly, untangling his hand from her dark curls so she could hold it. "I don't hate your job, or your coworkers, or even police. But I think it's important to acknowledge that there is a certain type of power that comes with enforcing the law that can be abused,"

"No you're right. And this is very much just a job for me. I'm not looking to take any moral high ground with anything I do,"

"Does that mean I can punch that doctor without you arresting me?" She changed the conversation to a lighter note, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Hmmm I think that's a little out of my jurisdiction," His hand dragged down to her covered thigh, giving her a little squeeze. "I do like the pants though, for the record,"

"They're just better!" She exclaimed. "I don't have to worry about bending over or running. The dress is so impractical, I always thought so. Did I tell you I got kicked out of high school for a week for wearing pants?"

It never applied to him but he remembers always seeing girls wearing dresses and skirts to school, pants were strictly forbidden for girls. He smiled at the thought of Elle walking the streets of NYC in broad daylight after being sent home.

"What a little rule breaker. I really got myself a troublemaker huh?" He pulled her up so she could sit on his lap.

"But you love it," She mused, hands running over his shoulder holster as she straddled his lap.

"I do,"

It was her lips that met his this time, her hands tangling in his hair in a way that would undoubtedly give him a few cowlicks. That could be worried about later though. All thoughts melted from his mind as her fingers ran lightly across his scalp. He caught himself letting out a small sigh at the sensation. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been touched like that.

Her weight across his lap shifted as she eased her body closer to his, deepening the kiss. His hands found their way to rest at her waist. Her pants certainly made it easier for her to straddle him.

Her fingers found their way to the top button of his shirt, working it open as she planted kisses to his jaw. A few more buttons were released, her mouth dropping lower to pepper his neck and collarbone. He felt himself growing stiff in his jeans, the familiar headiness of lust taking over his brain.

Elle had felt him too, giving him a knowing smile as she ground down on his lap. His head tipped back until it landed on the wood paneling behind him and he let out a low groan. His hands dropped lower, cupping her ass through the tight fabric of her uniform before tugging the shirt up to find her fly.

He pulled her back into a kiss, working to pry open the buttons on the front of her uniform, her smooth skin revealing itself bit by bit to him. Finally, they were undone enough for him to tug the sleeves down her shoulders, her bra coming into full view. It was white, basic, practical. But it didn't really matter. She was gorgeous, and very encouraging. As she shrugged her shoulders to slip her uniform down, her breasts pressed together. She looked up at him with her big brown eyes and a small smile.

"Like what you see?"

"Very much," his voice reverberated in his chest as he spoke lowly. He drew his hands up her body before resting right under her bra.

"You could spend the night if you wanted," She rested a hand on the buckle of his belt, her palm pressed against his.

God, he wanted to say yes.  Here he was, this gorgeous woman sitting in his lap, hand on his belt, ready and willing. How could he say no?

But he knew he had to say no.

This was moving fast. Which he was used to, usually he wanted fast. To get the job done and then move on. But he wanted to take his time with her, he didn't want to wake up in the morning and know he might never see her again. He wanted to make that clear to her, without sounding like a sissy.

"Maybe another night, Elle," He murmured.

Her face fell slightly, before pulling herself together again. She cleared her throat and started to pull herself off his lap, clearly embarrassed. He stopped her before she could move away.

"I'm not used to this," He admitted. 

She waited for him to continue.

"Lets say I've had a lot of first dates, but they never make it passed the next morning," He tries to explain. "It's been a while for me, since I wanted to stick around past breakfast. And I do. Want to stick around with you, I mean. If you want me to,"

She gave him a half smile before giving him a gentle kiss. She rested her forehead on his, their noses bumping together.

"I'd like if you stuck around. We can take it slow if you want, just have a couple dates, hang out. I won't rush it. To tell the truth, i usually am too exhausted to do anything but sleep when I come home anyway,"

He chuckled, helping her shrug her uniform back up her shoulders, her bra being concealed once more as she buttoned herself up.

"I'm the same way. We have demanding jobs. But I'm willing to see if we can work this out if you are,"

"I am," She remained seated in his lap, hands running across the leather straps of his holster. “More than willing, if that’s not too forward,”

“You’re straddling my lap and I just got to second base with you, I think we’re past forward,” He smirked. 

A laugh bubbled up from her throat, the genuine sound of it making him laugh too. 

“Point taken,” She got up from his lap and walked across the room to throw out the empty takeout containers. 

He figured he should head back soon, they both had a long day and could use some rest. His eyes flitted over to the clock, taking account of the time before his concentration was broken by her voice. 

“I know its late, but I think I’m gonna watch The Late Movie before I turn in. You’re welcome to stay. I’ll keep my hand to myself, I swear,” She put her hands up by her head before turning the dial on the television set. 

His mouth twisted into a half-smile. He could spare an extra hour or so, especially for her. He patted the spot next to him on the couch and she settled down next to him. He guided her head to rest on his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her waist. She smiled up at him before turning to catch the beginning of the film. 

They sat in comfortable silence as the intro music began. Elle watched the movie intently, and Flip watched Elle. He couldn’t remember the last time he hung out with a girl after dark and it didn’t end in someones bedroom. It was definitely a change for him, but it was one he was welcome to.

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

NOTES

-Here’s what I imagined the Tupperware would look like. Big square containers with pink lids!

-Yom Kippur is the day of atonement after Rosh Hashanah. You are supposed to fast and reflect upon your wrong doings from the past year. This article explains things pretty simply. It would be, in fact, a day when Elle wouldn’t be answering her phone if she was home. Also, even though Elle is on the Reform end of Judaism and she’s far from her family and is separated from a community like she had back in NYC, she is still pretty determined to keep with tradition even if its just her in her tiny apartment. It’s fucked up that she felt she had to go in to work, but being part of a minority religion (especially in a predominately Christian place like Colorado Springs) can be trying. I know I’ve felt obligated to work a few holidays in the past (working on being more assertive about that at my present job).

-Nurse’s Uniforms: Pants for women was becoming much more acceptable in the 1970s workplace. Uniform pants would have just started to become a thing for nurses, and I’m sure people put up a fuss about it (because what else can be expected honestly). Let Elle wear pants! Also, getting kicked out of high school for wearing pants is inspired by this badass photo. Its from the 40′s, but women in the 60′s still couldn't wear pants to school in some places.

-Sexual harassment in the workplace (and everywhere else) was even more “normal” that it is today. The term “sexual harassment” was even credited with being invented until the mid-70s. It would be unlikely Elle would be taken seriously by any higher ups, a lot of women had to suck it up and deal with it (I absolutely do not endorse this, I advocate for shaming and making a scene if you feel comfortable with it).

-Goyim is plural for goy, which just means you’re not Jewish (and is not derogatory despite what dictionary.com has to say!)

-Elle was referring to the Nuremberg Laws in Germany when talking about her parents. They would have been subjected to a lot of laws as Jews living in Germany pre-WWII, and got out basically at the very last minute. Wikipedia explains the laws here. It’s honestly kind of weird writing a character in her position. You see a lot of literature about the actual holocaust with Jewish characters, but I didn’t find a lot of stuff about the next generation and how growing up in the 60s/70s/80s would be for them. If anyone has anything they’d like to share, I’d love to hear stories! I can only learn so much from my own family, and love to hear the experiences of others!

-I’ve said it before, but New York City in the 70s was a dumpster fire. Elle loves her city but it was really not a super safe place at the time.

-Flip’s family came in the late 1800s from Russia, meaning his family was probably escaping the Pogroms.

-The CBS Late Movie

-I really don’t think Flip would be too aware of racial situations before this KKK case. He has that quote where its ‘just a job’ to him. I don’t think he would take much consideration in to the issues people take with police, but I don’t think he would be closed off to listening to people talk about it. Also, let’s face it, the majority of people in the 1970s were still kinda homophobic. Even if he didn’t hate gay people (for my sake, were gonna say he’s fine with it) I think he’d still be susceptible to using offensive terms every once and a while, like sissy. 

Thanks for reading, I know this chapter isn’t super interesting. Gotta get that character building in there, and get Flip to consider his career and how other view it!

#flip zimmerman #flip x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x oc #artbmasterlist

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 3

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous  undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 4,751

Warnings: none

Of all the boys I've known, and I've known some

Until I first met you, I was lonesome

And when you came in sight, dear, my heart grew light

And this old world seemed new to me

(x)

“Grandma said today’s the New Year,” Flip told his mother as he watched her move around the kitchen. She was making dinner so it was ready for dad as soon as he came home.

She smelled of perfume, as always, and was immaculately dressed while making cooking, as always. He sat at the kitchen table, his legs swinging from his seat, not quite able to touch the ground yet. His growth spurt wouldn’t happen until seven years later when he reached thirteen. 

“Did she now?” His mother’s voice had just a hint of annoyance, one Flip didn’t yet recognize. And so he powered on. 

“She told me on the phone last week. She said we should call her today so say Luh-Sannatovah--”

“Luh-sha-NAH tov-AH,” She corrected him, opening the oven door. “And we don’t celebrate that, Grandma knows this,”

“But why not? We’re Jewish aren’t we?” 

“We don’t celebrate it Phillip, don’t ask again please,” her voice was clipped but dangerous. The roast pan clattered as she slammed it on the stove top. 

“Don’t mention this to your father when he gets home, the last thing he needs is to hear you bringing this up,”

Flip stopped swinging his legs. He kept his mouth shut from then on about the holiday from then on. 

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

As promised Flip was at the apartment before sundown, a bottle of red wine in hand. He parked his truck on the street outside the plain brick building. He looked from the sheet of paper with her address, it said she was on the third floor. He looked up to the windows, hoping to maybe catch a glance of her before making his way into the building.

He went up the old rickety staircase, the steps groaning under his weight. He opens the door to the third floor hallway and looks for her apartment number. As he walked he could hear the different tenants going about their night. One room had a tv blaring the latest variety show, another had the game playing in the radio as some kids were running around. He finally reached her apartment door, music drifting into the hallway.

He knocked on the door and awkwardly looked around while waiting for her to open the door. He noticed a tiny brass object hammered into her door frame, just at his eye level. It was a mezuzah, which had parts of the Torah inscribed on a piece of paper inside in order to bless the home. He vaguely remembered his grandmother instructing him to touch it before coming into someone's home. He placed his fingertips to it gently, feeling the cool metal under his skin. In that moment he heard a lock unlatch and he pulled his hand back to his side right before door swing open in front of him.

"Hey you," Eliana looked up at him, opening the door wider. "Come on in, you're the first one here,"

"Hi Eliana--”

“You can call me Elle,” She interjected, walking further into the space.

 “Elle. It smells good in here," he following her into the kitchen.

He noted she was wearing a pair of chords and a simple blouse, her Star of David necklace hanging freely now that it was unrestricted by a uniform. Her hair was half pulled back and she was barefoot. For a moment he wondered if he should have taken off his shoes but before he could ask she started speaking again.

"Thanks, I've been cooking all day. Sorry it's a bit of a mess in here right now," she said, moving back to the oven to check on what was cooking inside.

"All day?" He asked.

"All day," she reaffirmed. "It's a holiday, and a lot of the traditional foods weren't really available at the supermarket. So I had to make do,"

She motioned to the kitchen table, which held an impressive amount of food. Round loaves of challah still giving off steam, bowls filled with cooked carrots and potatoes, and another platter of unidentified food filled the small table.

"Well it looks great," he said, settling the bottle of wine among the feast.

“Thanks! The chicken will be ready soon. I figured that would be friendlier than the customary fish head. Besides, my other friends don't eat a lot of fish so this was the safest option,"

"Where are your other friends?" He asked, trying to make polite conversation.

"They should be here soon. I think they're running late, Ruth always seems to be a good ten minutes late to everything. We had to change her watch to be fifteen minutes fast so she could actually get to work on time," Elle rolled her eyes and lifted herself up to sit on the counter.

The two sat in awkward silence for a moment, the only sound in the kitchen was the record player crooning pre-war tunes. The harmonizing of The Andrews Sisters poured from the speakers, playing a song he hadn’t heard since his childhood.

Bei mir bist du schön, please let me explain

Bei mir bist du schön means you're grand

Bei mir bist du schön, again I'll explain

It means you're the fairest in the land

Despite having an obvious attraction to one another, they both realized in that moment they really didn't know much about the other person.

"So... did you have any trouble finding the place?" she asked.

"No, I have a pretty good idea of where things are here. Police and all," he responded.

"Yeah, that'd make sense," she said, seeming like she was kicking herself on the inside.

"Do you need help finishing anything up?" He asked, trying to be polite.

"You could cut some apples with me, I haven't quite gotten there yet," she hopped off the counter and pulled a bowl of apples off the counter and placed it between the two of them.

"Knives are in the drawer by your leg," she pointed. He stepped back and pulled a couple out for them and they got to work.

"So any particular reason for apples? Kinda strange for dinner," He asked.

"Wow, you were serious about not celebrating, huh?" Elle said, smiling up at him. "Apples slices and honey are eaten together to symbolize having a sweet new year ahead,"

"And the fish head you mentioned?" He asked, almost not wanting an answer.

"You start with the head of the animal, its supposedly good luck. My mother used to go to the market to get sheep head, and would get mad when we wouldn't eat it,"she grimaced. "I'll take my chances with the chicken if it means my dinner isn't gonna be looking at me,"

"Understood," he said, not wanting to think about that memory.

"My siblings and I would collect the meat in napkins and toss it outside to the neighbor’s dog. My mom thankfully never caught us,"

"You have siblings?"

"An older sister and a younger brother. Rebecca is off living the housewife life with her husband and 4 kids in Brooklyn. Alex is finishing up college in Manhattan,"

"Is it hard being away from them?"

"Sometimes. Is it bad to say but I miss my brother more than my sister? I'm kinda the black sheep of the family, choosing a career over meeting a nice Jewish boy and settling down. Rebecca likes to remind me that my biological clock is ticking, she takes after mama," she tried to switch the conversation away from her. "How about you? Any siblings?"

"Nope, only child. I do get the settling down question from mom a lot though, that's seems pretty universal,"

"I guess so," she laughed. He laughed with her.

“So how did you get all the way to Colorado from New York City? Aren’t most people dying to move to your hometown?”

“New York is my home, and it will always be,” Elle mused. “But after going upstate for college, which was a good eight hours from home, I learned that I really liked my freedom,”

“I was away from my parents for the first time. I was taking classes on things that I actually liked and was making friends, and could wear pants without my mother kvetching about me looking like my brother! I love my family but being on my own felt great and I didn't know if I would be able to have that if I stayed in New York. So I took a job in Indiana at a hospital in a small city. I worked there for a few years and heard about a job opening at a hospital in Colorado that desperately needed nurses and was paying more than enough, so I thought why not? So here I am,” she gestured to the room surrounding them.

“That’s brave of you,” he noted.

“I don’t know if its brave so much as I’ve seen my sister’s life as a housewife and its encouraged me to want more. It’s like Betty Friedan said 'no woman gets an orgasm from shining the kitchen floor’—”

Flip’s lips twisted into a smile and he let out a short laugh. She realized the crassness of her quote and put a hand up to cover her mouth.

“I probably shouldn't be talking about orgasms during the high holy days,” she laughed.

“I get what you’re saying though. It’s not everyones calling,”

“And your calling is being a cop?” She changed the subject.

“I guess. I joined the military right out of high school. My dad was in the Air Force so it was expected of me. We lived on base in Nebraska, he didn’t retire until I was in my twenties. I did two tours over in Vietnam before coming back to the states and joining the Colorado Springs PD,”

“Is this the wrong time to tell you I spent a lot of time in college and post-grad protesting the war?”

“I mean, I went over there and I served but I didn't really agree with what was happening by the time I left. A lot of the people around me had been drafted. They didn't want to be there and were vocal about it, but we kept each other safe enough to get home,”

She was quiet and avoided his gaze. He knew what she was thinking. The country was so polarized about this war. It wasn’t popular by any means. He remembered the welcome he received coming home. Wearing your uniform didn't feel honorable when people called you a baby-killer as they walked by. He traded in that uniform for a CSPD one, finding it to be one of the only places where people didn’t scowl when they heard his resume.

“I didn’t kill anyone if thats what you’re thinking. My unit wasn't specialized or anything, we barely saw any action. There isn’t as much going on over there as the news is making it out to be,”

She bit the inside of her lip, cheeks flushing as she took in his words.

“I honestly hadn’t heard anything from anyone who had been over there. I appreciate you being honest about it. Sorry if I came off too strong,”

“It’s okay, I get it. Besides, you can make it up to me with dinner,”

He flashed her a cheeky smile and she shot one back his way. She looked beautiful right now, with her hair up in a loose bun from cooking and apron covering her outfit. He hoped he was appropriately dressed. He’d subbed out his usual flannel and jeans for a dress shirt and slacks. She was about to open her mouth, no doubt to shoot a sarcastic remark his way when she was suddenly interrupted.

The phone rang and she excused herself to go answer it. He found this all strangely relaxing. Slicing apples, the background music, the two of them just chatting and laughing. It was like they'd been doing this together for ages. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden change in her voice, he eavesdropped into her call in the next room.

"Are you sure? Do you want me to send some soup your way?... No, don't worry about it, you focus on getting better... Okay, I'll call you tomorrow then, L'shana Tova..." she said before hanging up the phone and coming back in the kitchen.

"Everything alright?" He asked, putting the apple slices on a plate.

"The girl that was supposed to come, Ruth, she's really sick and can't make it. So I think it's just gonna be us," she said with an air of uncertainty.

He realized she was nervous. He was practically a stranger, just sitting in her kitchen with this huge meal she’d created. With four people, it would have been a party. With two though, it was more of an awkward date. He tried to receive the tension, let her know he was okay with this.

"Oh. Well, more wine for us then?" He offered.

She broke into a relieved smile.

"More wine for us then,"

——

The sun had just started to sink over the horizon as Flip helped Elle with setting the table, the two extra chairs being dragged back into the small living room. She turned off the radio and motioned for him to sit down as she retrieved a candle that had been burning in the other room.

“You said you’ve never done this before, right? Do you want me to break some of it down for you?” She asked as she came back into the kitchen.

“Uh— yeah. I mean, yes. Please. That’d be great,” he said, wanting to seem at ease with everything that was happening.

She took the unlit candle sticks, set in silver holders, and lit them with the existing flame which she then set on the kitchen counter behind them. She turned back to the table, standing over the candles. After a deep breath through her nose she closed her eyes, waved her hands over the flames and began reciting a prayer.

If Flip was being honest, he didn't understand anything she was saying. He never went to Hebrew school. The closest was an hour away and his father basically forbid it. There were no celebrations in his house growing up, at least none that were explicitly Jewish. He never thought much of his secular upbringing, but he couldn't help but feel in awe of the way Elle stood in front of him, speaking a language that was thousands of years old.

She looked so at peace with her movements, the prayers could have meant anything to his inexperienced ears but they sounded reassuring when voiced by her. She moved to gently cover her eyes with her hands as she spoke, shielding them from the light. After she was finished, she placed the candle to the other side of the table away from the food.

“That was for lighting the candles, which is important for most of our holidays. Think of it as a signal that this is a sacred time, separate from the everyday,” She told him. “Could you pass me the wine?”

He handed her the bottle he brought her and she popped it open using a cork screw she had kept on the table. She poured some wine into a small metal cup and motioned for him to pass his own glass. His was filled as well and he listened as she recited another prayer. When she was finished, he wasn't really sure what to do with it. So he held it, waiting for her to continue.

"Say Amen, we drink it now. Kiddush cup first," she winked, taking a sip from the metal cup before passing it to him to do the same.

“That was us blessing the wine before the meal. This is good pick by the way,”

She turned her attention to the challah that was covered with a clean dish towel. She uncovered them and spoke again. Flip was starting to hear familiar words in her prayers, they all seemed to start the same way.

"Baruch Attah Adonai Eloheinu Melech Haolam…"

He couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed when she moved around with so much confidence. Elle had clearly been doing this for her whole life, and it made him think about how much of an absence there had been of this in his. There was purpose in her actions, the rituals being practiced were far older than either of them.

She broke off a piece of the challah, handing it to him before taking her own. She dipped it in a small bowl of honey, waiting for him to do the same, before bringing it to her mouth and eating it. He followed suit, met with sweet buttery bread and thick honey on his tastebuds.

“That was the HaMotzi, we’re thanking G-d for providing us bread,” She explained. “There’s one more blessing, and then we can eat. Take one of those apple slices you made and dip it into the honey,”

He did as instructed, mimicking the way she held it upward to keep the honey from dripping. He listened to her sing one more blessing, smiling to himself as he thought of how much he liked hearing her voice.

“Perfect! And now—” she took a bite of the slice. “We eat!”

“Thanks for walking me through, that was helpful,” he said as he ate his own slice.

“Of course. It’s weird to just sit there and listen to stuff you can’t understand. If Ruth and her boyfriend were here it might've been more fun, the more the merrier on holidays,”

“I’m still having fun with just you,” he looked to her, letting her know he really meant it.

She smiled at him, just staring back at him for a moment. It was hard to believe this was happening right now. He’d met Elle less than two weeks ago. He only learned her name earlier this week. And now they were having a holiday meal together in her apartment. He was used to moving fast with girls, but not like this.

“Oh no I forgot the chicken!" she gasped suddenly and rushed to the oven.

She pulled mitts on her hands and pulled the bird out in its pan. He'd forgotten about the main dish as well. There didn't seem to be any smoke so that was a good sign. She checked it over for damage.

"It's edible!" She declared, setting it down in the center of the table.

The two of them laughed before digging in.

---

Everything was delicious.

Flip couldn't remember the last time he’d had a full homemade meal. Maybe thanksgiving? Or going over to Jimmy’s one night? Whenever it was, Elle’s meal was two times better.

Between mouthfuls of food, they found time to converse. He wanted to know more about her, she was unlike anyone he’d ever met. Funny, assertive, intelligent, and had a pretty dirty mouth after a few glasses of wine.

“So you grew up an only child? Must’ve been nice having some damn peace and quiet,” she commented as he spoke about his upbringing.

“It was lonely sometimes. I think my parents might’ve wanted more kids but it just never happened. And yeah, it was really quiet. I didn’t realize how quiet until I started going to friend’s houses. My dad was a military man, very reserved and serious. And my mom was always concerned with fitting in with the neighbors,”

“That’s gotta be hard if you’re the only Jews on the block,” she sympathized.

“Yeah, we didn't really celebrate anything. Like, we had a menorah in the house but it was never lit. My parents said it was an heirloom and was too delicate for that, but I think my mom just didn't want the neighbors seeing. We even had a christmas tree up in later years,”

“Wow thats really bizarre. New York had literally everything. No one cared what you were doing for the most part. A lot of our neighbors were Jewish so there was never a second thought celebrating anything. I suppose that’s why my parents came here, the freedom of religion. There wasn’t much of that in Germany before they came over. Now they like to go all out,”

“They came before the war then?” he asked.

“Yep, 1937. They had my sister just a few months after arriving in America. Kind of an anchor baby, but don’t tell her that,”

“Do you speak German then?”

“German, Yiddish and Hebrew. They taught us German at home and we learned Hebrew in Hebrew school. We learned a little Yiddish too, but that’s just for talking at home, mostly simple stuff. I kinda wish I knew more,”

“Well, that’s still three more languages than I can speak,”

“I thought of going to school to study language. But then my mother said that’d be a good way to meet a husband and I decided to switch to nursing so I could make enough money on my own. And maybe to piss her off a bit,”

Flip laughed. He knew a lot of women went to college to get their MRS. degree, but he hadn’t heard of one who went to specifically avoid marriage.

“I’m sure she was thrilled. Eight hours away, protesting the war, and wearing pants,” he mused.

“Oh, she was ready to arrange a marriage at that point. I made the mistake of bringing home a box of rubbers one holiday break. She snooped around my bag and found it, I thought she was going to drop dead right there,”

He roared with laughter at the thought. Condoms were a very scandalous thing for a single woman to be carrying around in the 1960’s. For her even to obtain them was a mystery he thought was best unsolved. She was certainly ready to cause trouble at ever turn, and he loved it.

“I stole a cigarette from my father in middle school and went to the edge of the base to smoke it. One of the other officers caught me and told my dad. I don’t think I was more scared in my life than coming home and finding him in the living room with a belt next to him,”

She gasped before laughing again.

“Well was it worth it?”

“I smoke the same brand as him after all these years, it all worked out somehow,”

“I’m having trouble picturing you as a little trouble-maker, officer Zimmerman,” she confided, lips turned up.

“And I can’t see you as prim and proper. I saw you in your nurse uniform just a few days ago, looking all professional and crisp but then you’re telling me stories that make you out to be a hell-raiser,”

“I was a part of the National Organization for Women back in New York and Indiana, not to keep adding on to your narrative,”

N.O.W. was something he’d read about in the news, or seen on tv. A feminist group that was often demonized and dismissed. Passed off as a bunch of crazy women looking to achieve something that would never come about. He’d take those news stories with a grain of salt. He saw nothing wrong with a strong woman.

“A bra burn-er huh? You might need them here in Colorado, it gets pretty cold you know,” he teased.

“I’ll have you know my bras are fully in tact, thank you very much! We were more focused on getting the Equal Rights Amendment passed,” she informs him.

“Best of luck getting anything passed in Congress. But maybe there’s a chapter around here you could join,” he offered.

“You’re okay with me being a feminist?” she asked.

He was taken aback for a moment, unsure of how to answer that.

“Yeah. I don’t see anything wrong with that. Gotta be passionate about something, right?”

“And what are you passionate about Flip Zimmerman?” she rested her chin on her hand as she waited for his response.

He didn’t have one.

“I’m not sure,” he admitted. “But this chicken sure is a forerunner,”

She gave him an odd little smile, somewhere between amusement and pity.

“You can take some home if you’d like, there’s more than enough,”

“I might have to take you up on that,”

They talked the night away, moving from the table to the couch once they were both full. The wine bottle followed them, perching on the coffee table as they spoke. They were just touching, her figure curled up on the cushion next to him, the two of them facing each other in the dim light.

She made him laugh like crazy and he did the same. They exchanged more childhood stories, and he filled her in on some of the more wild cases he’d been apart of on the force. Once they had both finished their last glass, things started to get heated.

What was ‘just touching’ became his large hand resting on her thigh. She rested her hand on his bicep as they spoke. And slowly, their faces grew closer and closer together until their words died on their lips. He was the one who bridged the gap, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. He was testing his luck, seeing if she was feeling the same way he was. She quickly returned the kiss, deepening between them.

It wasn’t long before the two of them were making out on her couch like teenagers. She moved to his lap, straddling him as they kissed. His hands settled on her waist and her’s rested on his shoulders. Flip hadn’t done this in a long while, just kiss a girl, really take his time. It was nice.

She broke a part their kiss, touching her nose to his as she spoke with a hushed tone.

“I have another bottle of wine we could open if you wanna stay a while,”

He thought about it. Of course he wanted to spend the night with her, she was fucking gorgeous. He would spend every night with her if he could. But that was part of the problem.

He wasn’t going to be able to one-and-done it with Elle. He liked her too much. He liked getting to know her and eating dinner with her and even preparing dinner with her. He wanted to get to know a girl with her clothes still on. Who was he turning in to?

New year, new Flip Zimmerman.

“As much as I would love that sweetheart, I gotta get up early for work tomorrow,” he heard himself say.

She looked disappointed. He felt disappointed in himself, to be honest.

“But this was nice. I’d like to do it again sometime,” he assured.

“You know Rosh Hashanah only happens once a year, right?” she teased. He chuckled.

“I mean us getting together and having a good time. Maybe more of this?” He accentuated his words by rubbing his hands down her sides.

“I think that could be arranged,” she hummed. “Yom Kippur in next week, I suppose you don’t so anything for that either?”

“I can’t say I do,”

“Well if you’re not up for fasting, you’re welcome to break fast with me. Maybe with some Chinese food from the place around the corner?”

“I’d like that. Not the fasting part, but after,”

She kissed him again, looping her arms around his neck as if to keep him there just a little bit longer. He felt himself getting tighter in his jeans, a sign that he should stop before the alcohol makes any major decision for them. He broke the kiss, lifting her from his lap with ease before setting her on her feet.

Her curls were slightly disheveled and her blouse was un-tucking but she still looked beautiful. She ran a finger over his Star of David before trailing into the next room.

“I’ll pack some of this up for you. You can get the Tupperware back to me whenever, there’s no rush,” she called from the other room.

he awkwardly stood on the doorway of the kitchen as she worked, not wanting to get in her way. She seemed to know what she was doing.

“You need any help with the clean up?” he asked.

“No, thanks for asking but don’t worry about it. It’ll help me sober up,” she joked. At least he wasn’t the only one who needed the break from the wine.

She strode over to him, three pink Tupperware containers in hand. He took them into his arms, cradling them so they wouldn't fall.

“I hope that’s enough,” she chewed at her lip.

“More than enough, thank you. And thank you for inviting me over. I hope your friend feels better,”

“I’ll tell her you said that, thanks. So I’ll see you soon?” she looked up at him with eager eyes. He had a feeling not just anyone got to see that.

“I’ll give you a ring tomorrow if you want. Around eight?”

Her face lit up.

“Perfect, I’ll hold you to it,” she warned him.

“Alright. Happy New Year Elle,”

“L’Shana Tova Flip,”

He swooped down to give her one last kiss before walking out the door.

“L’shana Tova” he mumbled as he walked down the hall, Tupperware in hand and a small grin on his face.

---------

Notes:

The light irony of having a Jewish New Year chapter released around the first week of 2019. Happy New Year! I tried to write Rosh Hashanah to the best of my ability, my family is on the Lite(TM) end of Judaism, so I asked a lot of friends about their family’s customs to help make sure everything was good. If anyone does anything differently, I’d love to hear it!

-For those who don’t celebrate Rosh Hashanah, it’s a two day celebration that is at the beginning of the seventh month of the Jewish calendar (which is different from the Roman one we use, thats why Jewish holidays fall on different days every year). It’s about the celebration and reflection of the last year, the latter helps prepare for Yom Kippur, The Day of Atonement. 

-Rosh Hashanah usually has a service you attend, but Elle is new in town and I would think too busy with double shifts to make it to synagogue (if there were any close by at all). Dinner can be a big affair depending on what your family likes to do. There is a lot of symbolism involved in the food choices, and with two nights of celebration there are different customs for each night. For example, eating a new fruit is customary on the second night, but that isn’t written about in this chapter as it was only the first night. 

-Kvetching is Yiddish for complaining/bitching

-Betty Friedan’s quote is from her book The Feminine Mystique, which was a huge influence for the second wave of feminism. She also co-founded the National Organization for Women (NOW). She also believed associating with the LGBT community would hurt Women’s Rights, calling lesbians “The Lavender Menace” (which is obviously shitty)

-the 1960′s was a turning point in the national attitude toward sex. The Sexual Revolution in the 60′s and 70′s made sex more of an open topic, but a lot of things were still taboo. Condoms for unmarried women in the 60′s were hard to come by. Also remember, Roe v. Wade was 1973. Abortion was still illegal at this time.

-I absolutely do not advocate punishing children with belts. But Flip grew up in the 40′s/50′s/60′s where corporal punishment was unfortunately a lot more common.

-I head cannon that Flip grew up on Offut Air Force Base in Nebraska. 

-I head cannon that Elle went to nursing school in Buffalo, NY. The State University system would have been cheaper than private school, which her parents would have probably appreciated. SUNY schools were really big on protests in the 1960′s and 1970′s, some of the schools even having uneven staircases installed on campus that make it more difficult to riot (no joke). 

-Voicemail wasn’t invented until the last ‘70s, if you wanted to call someone, it was best to tell them what time you were calling. 

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip x reader #flip x oc #masterlist #ARTBmasterlist

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 6

Being an undercover officer is a perilous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous  undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 4,339

Warnings:  brief N$FW moment, brief mention of violence

When I'm with you

It doesn't matter where we are

Or what we're doing

I'm with you, that's all that matters

(x)

Flip was surprised when he ran his tongue over his lip and it brushed his mustache. He was trying to get a stray crumb but instead was met with the taste of pussy. Elle's pussy. Guess he missed a spot when washing his face that morning. He fought back a grunt as the tartness melted on his tongue, a reminder of his night. And the night before that. And the night before that.

After he'd spent that first night over in Elle's apartment, he was there almost every night for the next few weeks. The only time he elected to stay at his own place was when his undercover case had him up at weird hours. He'd go back to his lonely apartment, sad to sleep in an empty bed. He used to purposefully wake up before his date, prying himself from their bed and leaving before they even noticed.

He was a big guy and would prefer to have the bed to himself. But the way Elle's body curled up next to his just felt right. He'd wake up to the smell of her hair and the feeling of silky skin under his hand. If anything, it made it harder to leave in the morning. But he could control himself, he assured himself. They both had jobs to do, no sleeping in allowed.

He'd be fine at work most of the day, paperwork kept his mind busy. But little things brought his thoughts back to Elle. He'd catch a whiff of her perfume on his collar, or a stray piece of hair on his shirt, or her cum in his mustache.

He'd fought he urge to call her the first week and a half or so. He'd see her later in the day, there was no point of stopping what he was doing to call over to the hospital. It wasn't until his job kept him from seeing her for three days did he finally swallow his pride and call.

Jimmy had caught him at his desk. Flip thought everyone had gone to lunch, and used it as an excuse to 'call the hospital' to 'get more info on Kukowski's medical status'.

"You're smilin' an awful lot to be asking about a perp's condition," His partners eyebrows were raised as he clutched his coffee mug.

"It's confidential, if you'll excuse me for a minute," He put his hand over the phone so Elle couldn't hear, though the giggling in the background made him think she still could.

"You're talking to that cute nurse aren't you?" Jimmy's smile took up his whole face.

Flip furrowed his brow.

"Thank you for the update ma'am, have a nice day," He put on his authoritative voice, making Elle laugh harder on the other end.

"Alright officer, you too. I'll see you at the diner tonight," She responded before the line disconnected.

He hung up the phone and stood up to get more coffee from the break room.

"Get all the information you needed detective Zimmerman?" His partner called behind him, voice full of smug glee.

He was just met with a middle finger as Flip left the room.

——

"I wanna take you out," He mumbled against her breast.

Post-coitus, Flip had taken to resting his head on her chest. It gave her easy access to run her fingers through his hair, and let him use her breasts as pillows as he came down from his high.

"Like a date? We were just at the diner yesterday," She reminded him.

"No, like a real date. We can go to this nice Italian place on my side of town. They have candles on the tables and they dim the lights and stuff,"

"I mean if you want to. I don't think I've been on a real date in like a year," She mused, fingers scraping along his scalp in a soothing motion. He was practically purring under her touch.

“I’d say it’s just about time then,”

“When was the last time you went on a date? A real one, not picking up a girl at a bar,” She turned her head so she could look at him.

Her curls, which had been fanned across the pillow moments before, were gathered in to a braid and thrown over her shoulder. He was playing with the end of it, dragging the hair across her skin and watching her try not to act ticklish.

“I don’t know, maybe a couple of years ago?”

“You don’t have to answer if you don’t like the question, but why aren’t you married?”

His head rose from her chest as he propped himself up with his elbows. He looked at her, analyzing her face as he thought about how to answer.

“I am married. You’re my mistress, didn’t you know?”

“Phillip,” She rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. You’re a great guy, respectful, good in bed, you got a good job, I can’t figure out how you haven’t been snatched up,”

“I’m married to my job is the short answer. Being on the force is hard. I work long hours, I can’t always be there, and I have to keep a lot of secrets,” He bit at his lip as he thought of what he wanted to say next.

There were some things he wasn’t quite ready to share with her, mainly that he was an undercover officer and not just a regular guy on the force. If they were truly keeping things casual, he wanted to keep her away from the more dangerous aspects of his job. If they kept this going and got more serious, he pledged to himself to have an honest conversation about his position, and what it could mean for their relationship.

“I had a long time girlfriend when I joined the force. Linda. We started dating right before I was accepted at the academy. She helped me through it, staying up studying with me, going to my graduation. My mom kept asking me when I was going to propose. I thought I wanted to, maybe in the next year or so. But police work kept getting harder. I’d be working long nights, had to cancel a few dates. Linda was okay with it at first, but it kept happening. I’d try to make it up to her, but I was new to the team and a lot of the grunt work would fall on me. Eventually she broke up with me, said she couldn’t take it anymore. She never knew where I was or if I was safe or whether she was going to see me that night. I understood, tried to tell her it would get better, but I knew I couldn't make her happy anymore,”

“So I kept on with work, tried dating a few other girls after that but it was the same problem. They wanted me home for dinner every night and being a detective just doesn’t allow for that. Flings have just been easier,”

He didn’t realize he’d looked away from her while speaking, vulnerability bubbling up in his chest as he spoke. He looked back at her to see she’d been watching him the whole time. Her brow was slightly furrowed and her eyes tinged with sadness.

“I’m sorry that happened,” She started. “You deserve someone who understands,”

“You have pretty well,” He offered.

“My job is just similar is all. Long shifts, late nights. It’s a pain in the ass to work around, you just gotta find the right person. I thought I had, back in Indiana. I was seeing this guy, Abe. He worked at the university nearby and never complained about my job. He was the first guy who didn’t immediately try to get me to quit and become a housewife. He seemed to get that my job was important to me, that I really love what I do,”

“But?” Flip asked. Elle sighed and shrugged her shoulders.

“But once I got the opportunity to come work here in Colorado things started to change. Abe even talked about moving with me at one point, him getting a job at a state college down here. But the closer the moving date got, the more keen to stay in Indiana he was. It was just talk to him, a fantasy. He never really intended on moving, and never thought i’d actually want to go. When he realized what I really wanted, he begged me to stay with him. He gave me his grandmother’s wedding ring and asked me to marry him,”

“He didn’t really know you all that well then, huh?”

“No, I guess not,” Elle let out a dry laugh. “If I wanted to marry him, I would have by then. I think he thought it was romantic, a sweeping declaration of love. It really just cemented my decision to leave. I gave him the ring back and told him I was sorry. I took a Greyhound to here a week later,”

“I guess we’re both married to out jobs then,” Flip set his head back down on her chest.

“I do have to wear white everyday,” She noted, stifling a laugh. He chuckled at her joke along with her.

“We don’t have to worry about labels or anything right now. We’re just two busy adults having a good time with one another. No weddings or family heirlooms involved,” He assured her, his hand reaching up to play with the pendant sitting near the hollow of her throat.

“You’re the only guy I’m seeing right now,” He could feel the vibrations from her voice as she spoke. “I’m okay with this being more casual, but I thought you should know,”

“You’re the only girl I’m seeing right now,” He left out the part where even if there were others, he’d drop them in an instant to be with her. He knew he should take it slow, for both their sake, but he couldn't help but feel this was a little more emotionally invested than just having a good time together.

“Wow, we’re really bad at this,” She teased.  “So, as two casual-but-currently-monogamous professionals, when is the best time for us to go on a date?,”

“Maybe Saturday night after you get off work? I can pick you up,” He knew he'd be meeting ‘the organization’ at Felix's house earlier that day. It would be his first meeting with the whole bunch, but he didn't expect it to last into the night.

“Only if we go dutch with the check,” She pointed at him.

"Of course," his palm rubbed against her bare breast catching her nipple. “Now do you think we can fit one more round in before midnight?”

She gasped under his touch, giving him a sly smirk before pulling him into round three for the night.

-------

If Flip knew he was going to spend his Saturday being forced to take a lie detector test at gunpoint, listen to his partner throw a rock through the window of a klansman's house, and then have to chase after said klansman to make sure his partner wasn't shot, he would have chosen a different night for his date with Elle.

But here he was, heart rate still trying to even itself as he drove home hours later. He would've been fine if Ron didn't throw a rock through the window of Felix's house. He would’ve talked his way out somehow. What was he even thinking? A black man instigating an attack while the house was crawling with armed white supremacists? He'd spoken to him about it at the station after he left Felix's, it didn't go great.

Ron was more focused on trying to make Flip impassioned about the cause. Trying to get him to feel the same way as he did, even though that wasn't him. He didn't let personal stuff get in the way of his work, he couldn't if he wanted to do a good job.

“Doesn’t that hatred you’ve been hearing the Klan say doesn’t that piss you off?” Ron had asked him in the dimly lit records room before they headed out for the weekend.

“Of course it does,” He’d responded. It was an easy question to answer, but it felt much more complicated under the surface.

“Then why you acting like you ain’t got skin in the game, brother?”

The Rookie’s words were frustrating. He didn’t understand what it was like for Flip growing up. His family pushing away their religion and their culture to fit in, until they were left with nothing but a name and some disregarded family heirlooms hidden away in the closet. Him never feeling like he really fit in with his Christian classmates, but also unable to relate to any Jewish people he met. He was always stuck in some middle ground, somewhere between what his parents wanted him to be and what they tried to keep from him.

Of course he had skin in the game, when the Klan talked about hating Jews, they were talking about his family. They were talking about Eliana. They were talking about him. Ron wasn’t considering how maybe it was so easy for him to slip into the roll of ‘White Anglo-Saxon Protestant, cherry pie, hot dog, white boy’ because it was all he ever knew. It’s not like he’s parading around with these racists and heading on home to Shabbat after, he knew nothing about the culture the Klan hated him for being apart of.

“Rookie, that’s my fucking business,” He gritted out, making direct eye contact with Ron. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore, especially not with his partner.

“It’s our business,” Ron responded.

Fuck that. He left him standing there in the back of the room as he lit a cigarette. It’d help calm him down.

Flip took a deep breath in an attempt to clear out all feelings from his work. He decided to focus on the night ahead. A date with Elle. A real date with Elle. He'd picked out his clothes earlier that day, his nerves getting the better of him. The black slacks and white polyester shirt were lying on his bed with a pair of dress shoes on the floor.

He slipped out of his work clothes and took a quick shower before re-dressing, his large hands buttoning the shirt with a practiced ease. He took a look in the mirror, smoothing down his damp hair into his usual center part before adjusting his cuffs.

All he could think when he looked at his reflection was of Felix pointing the gun to his head. It wasn't the first time it had happened. He'll, he'd been to war before he was on the force. And he'd been an undercover officer for the last three years, he'd had his fair share of close calls. But this was different. That gun wasn't to his head because of something completely out of his control; his heritage. Something he didn't even see as a big part of him.

What would have happened if they somehow found out who he really was? Would he have been shot over something so trivial? Was it trivial if someone wanted to kill him over it? He wasn't even a practicing Jew. But would that have mattered?

He laced up the dress shoes and shrugged on his sherpa jacket before leaving his quiet apartment to pick up his date. He tried hard to push his work out of his mind, turning up the radio to let a Chicago song take up the overworked parts of his brain.

Time passes much too quickly 

When we're together laughing

I wish I could sing it to you, oh no

I wish I could sing it to you

He pulled up to Elle's right as she was walking out the front door. She beamed as she saw his car pull up. He put it in park and was about to climb out to open the door for her when she yelled over for him to stay inside.

Perplexed, he sat in the drivers seat as she got in the car and settled in the passengers side.

"You don't need to get out of the car just to get back in, I can open a dumb door by myself," She explained, giving him a peck on the cheek after.

"If you insist," He caught her face before she turned away, pulling her into a longer kiss on the lips.

She hummed with content as his lips pressed against hers, an emotion he felt himself. The world disappeared for a second, his problems evaporating when he could smell her perfume permeating the air around them.

They broke apart and it took him a moment to drift back to reality. With one hand on the wheel and one hand resting with hers in the median, he drove off toward their destination.

Giuseppe's Italian Restaurant was a tiny whole-in-the-wall joint, with decor that hadn't been updated since they opened in 1940. But they had some of the best reviews in the city.

Flip let Elle get out of the car on her own, taking a good look at her outfit for the night. Her hair was down, her dark curls contrasting against her fair skin. Her necklace rested against her clavicle as always. She was wearing a floral dress, made of a flowing material. The neckline was tight and plunged, showing a fair amount of skin, but the skirt came to mid-calf and was gathered. It wasn't something he'd ever picture her wearing but she looked fantastic.

"A dress?" He placed his hand on her lower back as they walked toward the entrance. "Weren't you just protesting by wearing pants to work?"

"I'm not at work, am I? I can clean up nice from time to time," She wore a sly smile as they were escorted to their table.

Wine was ordered with dinner, the plates of food so big that they had to move the candle to the side of the small table. Everything was going great, the two of them talking in hushed tones and laughing in not-so hushed ones. They picked off each other's plates, earning the occasional side-eye from some of the more refined diners. Elle would raise an eyebrow at them and they'd turn their attention back to their own table.

He was about to take another bite of pasta when he saw a man walk by the window who looked awfully familiar. Blonde hair, slight build, gaunt face, Felix-like. Flips blood suddenly ran cold. His eyes trained on the front window as the man walked by, trying to get a better look at him.

The man walked by, not bothering to look inside the restaurant. After a few seconds of studying his face, Flip determined it wasn't Felix. He breathed a sigh of relief, trying to yet again push the image of a gun to his head out of his mind.

"Flip?" He heard his voice called.

He turned his head back to the table to see Elle staring at him, brow furrowed. She'd rested her hand on top of his, something he hadn't even felt her do.

"You drifted for a moment there, are you feeling okay?" She asked.

“Yeah, just thought I saw someone from work, sorry about that,"

"Do you want to leave? We can eat the rest of this later if you'd like,"

"No, no, let's finish our date. I'm fine, really," He squeezed her hand, hoping to reassure her.

She gave him a look before continuing to eat. They filled the next couple of minutes with small talk, his mind still half at work as he thought about what happened at Felix's.

"Tell me more about your family," He found himself saying.

"Uh, what do you want to know?" She asked, looking at him with uncertainty.

"Why did they come to America? You said it was before the way right? Why America?"

"It's the land of opportunity. Coming from 1930s Germany, where they weren't even considered to be citizens, America was a paradise,"

"How were they not citizens?"

"Jews weren't citizens under the Nuremberg laws. Even if they'd lived in the country for generations, like my family. Before the war even started, dozens of restrictions were put on Jews to prevent them from contributing. We had to identify our businesses, we had to be in a registry, we couldn't marry outside our race-"

Flip's brain clicked. Jews were considered a race, not always just a religion. He knew this, but something in the way Elle spoke of it brought back memories of events he hadn’t really considered before. The way "Jew" was said by kids in grade school on the playground. The way it was said in a hushed tone by his mother's Bridge Club when she's host them at their house after carefully hiding all family relics. The way it was spat like venom by members of the Klan, said like it was the lowest thing a person could be.

"What were the Nuremberg laws?" He asked.

"What are they teaching out here?" She half-muttered, looking concerned. "They were laws to systematically enforce discrimination against Jews. The holocaust didn't happen overnight, the government worked for years to get Germany to see us as inferior. These laws prevented us from working and socializing outside our communities. Many fled, like my mother and father. They left in 1937, and had to give up most of their wealth in order to be allowed to emigrate. The rest of the family stayed behind, and were eventually taken to the camps,"

She grimaced as she spoke, rubbing her pendant between her fingers.

"My mother's brother was the only survivor we know of our family. He came to the US to live with us after he was liberated. I'd never met him before the war but mama says he wasn't the same when he came to live with us. He rarely talked about his time in the camps, and held a lot of survivors guilt. He watched everyone around him die, I can't imagine what he had to do to survive,"

She had looked down while talking, and looked back up at Flip when she finished, seeming startled.

"Sorry, this is really heavy conversation for a date,"

"No, I was the one who asked. I guess there are a lot of things they don't teach about the holocaust in school,"

"It's a shonda, how can people be expected to learn from it if they don't even know about it?" She slapped her hand on the table, drawing another look from a nearby table.

"They teach enough for it to never happen again," He said

"I hope you're right," She sounded unconvinced. "But either way, my family came here with next to nothing. At least they got here, a lot of people who tried to come to America as refugees were turned away at the border. They had to go back to Europe, where many died during the war. My parents were fortunate to have friends here to help get them on their feet,"

"I don't really know where my family came from. My grandparents on my fathers side came from Russia, but my mother never talked about her family. She said they'd passed away when I was a baby. We didn't really talk much in my family if you can't tell," He tried to make light of the situation.

"Maybe you could find some records at your parent's house. Or you could talk to your grandparents, if they're still alive,"

"They're not, but my parents inherited a bunch of their stuff, so I could ask," He said, thinking to himself about how that might go. They should be more open to talking about family stuff. He was an adult for fucks sake.

He considered how different his life was from Elle's. An assimilated military family in middle America versus an immigrant family from the biggest melting pot city in the world. Vastly different lives that somehow became connected. He caresses her hand with his thumb as he took it all in. The two of them sitting in this tiny restaurant in the candle light, talking about their lives openly.

"I like you, Eliana, a lot," He confessed, unable to find the words to fully express his feelings.

"I like you too, Phillip,” She stopped the movement of his thumb so she could hold his hand. "And this date is nice, but I can think of some place I'd rather be,"

"Oh?"

She leaned across the table, lowering her voice for his ears only.

"In my bed, with you on top of me, fucking me into the mattress until dawn,"

He was grateful his hair covered his ears because they for sure just turned red. He felt his cock stir in his pants, his hips shifting to try to adjust.

"Were in public, you know that right?" He smirked, lacing his fingers with hers.

"I can't help it if I want you in me 24/7," She pouted, letting her big brown eyes work him over.

"Is that so?" He leaned forward, letting his lips press against her ear as he spoke.

"If you want my fat cock in you, you're gonna have to listen closely Trouble. We're going to get out of here, get in my car and drive home. You're gonna be a good girl, I can't be getting pulled over by a coworker because you can't keep your hands to yourself,"

Her breath hitched as he continued.

"When we get back to your place, I suggest you take that dress off before I tear it off you. And then you'll get what you want, do you understand me?"

"Ten-four, detective," She whispered.

A few seconds later he felt her bare foot ghost over his lap. She must have taken off her heel while he was talking, and was now rubbing him through the fabric. The little minx. He raised an eyebrow at her, holding her foot steady with his hand. He was suddenly thankful the tablecloths were long.

"You said I couldn't touch you in the car, were not quite there yet, are we?" Her eyes glinted and her mouth twisted into a devilish smile.

"Check please!" He choked out.

_______

NOTES

There aren’t a ton of notes for this chapter, its more of just dissecting Flip’s feelings and struggle with understanding his identity. Where Elle grew up very sure in her cultural/religious identity, Flip didn’t really “grow up Jewish” as he mentioned in the movie. I think he’d definitely struggle with his identity, especially when confronted with so much hate regarding it. 

Here’s a basic idea of what Elle’s dress might look like (center dress)

I mentioned the Nuremberg Laws in chapter 4, but if you want to hear about the atrocities of the holocaust listen to the Mengele episodes from Last Podcast On The Left. It’s a three-part series and a little hard to stomach at times. I have a pretty strong stomach when it comes to true crime but this one got me a few times where I had to take a break (definite TW).

A shonda is yiddish for a disgrace/scandal. Its great vocab for overdramatic people such as I.

Thanks for reading!

#flip zimmerman #flip x reader #flip zimmerman x reader #masterlist #ARTBmasterlist

[bourbonboredom]

A Reason To Believe Chapter 2

Being an undercover officer is a dangerous job and Flip Zimmerman knows this far too well. He keeps his romantic life limited to one-night stands, never letting anyone get too close. That all starts to change when he meets a vivacious Jewish woman named Elle just as he’s about to take on a seriously dangerous  undercover job; infiltrating the KKK. Elle and his undercover work make him question things he’d never thought to before and challenge him to see the world, and himself, in a whole new light.

A Flip x OC Fic

Word Count: 3,941

Warnings: Violence, cursing

When I get restless, what can I do? When I need someone, I think about you I got to move on, not fade away I'm only just growin' a little each day

I got to quit this runnin' 'round Never gonna get rid of these blues I got to find somebody to love Slow me down, yeah Look out now

(x)

Flip was perpetually single by choice. The work he did as an undercover officer was dangerous and not always easy to explain. Dating anyone would just be too complicated. It was better to just have flings, no strings attached. Or at least that's what he told himself as he sat at the bar for the third time that week.

It's not like he was waiting for Eliana to walk in the door and pick up their conversation where they left off. He was just there to have a beer. He had one every night anyway to let some steam off from his job, granted it was usually at home. But why not get out a little bit? He could use the change of scenery. And if she happened to drop by, that was cool too.

The front door would open and his eyes would dart to the entrance, watching to see who was walking in. A man would come in, stumbling off his shift to find solace between work and home. A few women had walked in that night, laughing as they sat at a table near the front. His heart skipped a beat when he saw a head of brown hair. He is excitement was quickly settled when the woman turned her head and Elle's face wasn't there.

He would catch himself thinking about her from time to time at work. He'd remember her soft brown curls falling in her face. How her big brown eyes seemed to light up when she laughed. How talking to her was like talking to an old friend. But he could stop himself from thinking about her anytime he wanted, he was just indulging himself. He wasn't going to get caught up on a girl he didn’t even get into bed with.

But by the end of the night, he felt properly defeated. She wasn't gonna come back, it had just been wishful thinking. He finished his beer and flagged down the bartender to pay his tab.

"I was in here with a girl a couple days ago. She had brown hair and was wearing a white turtleneck?" He figured it wouldn't hurt to try to ask the bartender, a last ditch effort.

"Yeah I remember," the bartender said, taking Flip's money.

"Have you seen her around since?" He tried to play it cool. Not make it obvious that she's the reason he wasn't in his apartment drinking Coors and watching tv right now like any other self-respecting man on a Sunday night.

"Can't say I have, sorry bud,"

Flip nodded his thanks and put a good tip on the bar counter before heading out. It was a warm night outside, the street had a few people still wandering about. He walked to his car, a beat up Chevy pick up truck, and slid in the drivers seat. The engine rumbled to life and he began his slow drive home.

He tried not to think of her as he weaved through the streets of Colorado Springs. It had just been one night. One girl on one night, nothing special. There would be other girls, he told himself. He never had any trouble with that. He parked his car in the lot for his apartment and made his way upstairs.

His place was pretty small, and decidedly bachelor's pad. It was sparsely decorated, with just some mementos from his time in the military and a few family photos. It was a little messy, with casework papers strewn across his couch and coffee mugs lining his kitchen counter. He never had women over, so there wasn't much of a need to keep it tidy.

He'd always go to his hookup's place, it was easier that way. The next morning he could wake up and say he was late to work and rush out before any other plans could be made. Flip hadn't made it to a third date in the last year or so, ditching it before it could get too serious.

He stripped off his button down and slacks before collapsing into bed. He lay under the covers, listening to the city outside his window. It was dark aside from a few streetlights below illuminating the pavement. It felt lonely sometimes, coming home to nothing in particular. He'd catch himself thinking about coming home to a girl cooking dinner for the two of them, smiling as he came through the door. He never really had a particular girl in mind, it was more of a dream than anything.

But this night, that girl had brown hair and big brown eyes.

He shoved the thought from his head and went to sleep.

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

The next morning him and his partner had to drive out to the hospital. He met up with Jimmy at the station before the two of them took his Chevy to the coffee shop. After they had their paper cups of coffee fisted in their freezing hands, they made their way to their objective: St. Francis Medical Center.

Flip's last undercover case had gone smoothly enough. Everyone was arrested and were heading to court for drug charges. There was just one exception. One of the dealers he'd been with had tried to grab a gun off an officer and run for it. In the process, he shot at a cop, missed, and jumped off a fire escape, seriously injuring himself. He was currently sitting in a private room at St. Francis, recovering before he could be taken to jail.

Miraculously, Flip's cover hadn't been blown in all the commotion. As far as the suspects knew, he'd escaped the cops and was laying low until it blew over. Chief Bridges wanted to take advantage of this, using his intact undercover status to possibly get more information out of the injured suspect while he was healing and get his medical records so they could show it was an accident.

The hospital was quiet that morning, his footsteps echoing against the floor as we walked to the nurse's desk. A young woman sat filing paperwork, she looked up as he approached.

"I'm looking for Jacob Kukowski," he said, flashing his badge before stuffing back in his front pocket.

He almost never dressed in uniform for his job, something he was thankful for. The detective branch had a casual dress code, with most of the guys opting for jeans over slacks. He was grateful he could wear a flannel and a pair of jeans instead of the scratchy polyester of the officers uniform. A wire was taped to his undershirt under the flannel, something his partner helped him with in the parking lot. The receiver sat in his pocket, with Jimmy holding the recorder under his arm.

"Room 311. Try not to rile him up too much officer, his blood pressure hasn't been great," the woman warned him, a well-manicured finger pointing his way.

He said his thanks and walked toward the room. Jimmy stayed at the desk to gather Kukowski's file from the nurse and to pick up anything he could on the wire Flip was currently wearing. Flip wasn’t allowed to lead him toward any sort of declaration, that could invalidate anything said to him. So he’d have to shoot the shit with this guy and he’d hopefully talk himself into a proper prison sentence.

He found the room at the end of the hall, no officer stationed outside. The injuries must have been intense enough that they didn’t think he was a flight risk. He peeked in to see only one bed filled, the other stripped clean and vacant. His perp was in bed, propped up with pillows and covered in plaster casts. His naked arm was handcuffed to the railing of the bed, not that he could really get anywhere.

"Kukowski," he said simply as he entered the room. The weary man looked at him, expression becoming more animated.

“Well look at you, you sonofabitch. How the fuck you’d get in here without a nurse stoppin’ you?" Jacob asked, straightening himself up to get a better look at Flip.

"Nice to see you too. And there’s no one out there. How the hell did you get caught?"

"Some fuckin’ snitch ratted me out,” he groaned

“Fuck man, I’m sorry, that blows,” Flip tried to sound as sympathetic as possible.

“Listen Matt, I want you to get rid of the rest of my stuff. I got a special batch hidden away, it was meant to go to a new client. None of these small-time junkies,” Kukowski said in a hushed tone, calling Flip by the alias he’d been using. He clearly didn’t want to waste any time, he got right down to business.

“What makes it special? Who am I getting it to?” Flip asked. He figured Kukowski was planning on partnering with him at some point, but after he was already arrested? This guy was dumber than he originally thought.

Kukowski beckoned him closer with his cuffed hand.

“Now, I don’t know if I should say who the buyer is. But the horse? It’s beautiful,” Kukowski’s eyes were bloodshot, but shining with excitement.

“This buyer wanted me to come up with something new. The stuff I usually deal is cut with Asprin, which doesn’t do much to a person. If anything, I’m keepin’ my customers healthy,” He continued.

“Yeah, sure,” Flip was pretty sure that heroin had the opposite effect, despite what else you put in it, but he wasn’t about to argue.

“This new stuff, is the exact opposite. It’s meant to look harmless, it tastes just like the real shit. Basically undetectable unless you’re gonna test it in a lab. But it could kill a man in minutes,” Kukowski was smiling way too enthusiastically while talking, Flip’s skin crawled under his collar, but he let him continue to incriminate himself.

 “The secret? it’s cut with a fuckload of caffeine powder. Makes it look like the poor guy died of a heart attack instead of an overdose,”

“But why do that? Seems bad for business to me,” Flip said, motioning to his pack of cigarettes to ask if his target wanted one. He shook his head and Flip tapped the pack to knock a cig into his hand.

“Let’s just say this buyer’s business is a little...different from ours. They don’t like repeat clients,”

“That’s fuckin’ strange, what kinds operation are they runnin’?” He lit his cigarette, taking a long draw of smoke into his lungs and holding it there for a moment.

“A Wise One, if you catch my drift,” Kukowski winked at his supposed friend.

Oh. Oh, this was too good.

Flip let the smoke out of his lungs, choosing his words carefully as he spoke again.

“Are you tellin’ me you’re sellin’ to the mob, Kukowski?” He said quietly, just loud enough for Jimmy to pick up through the wire.

“A small-time contact. But if this works out we could be very rich men very soon,”

“Well, whats this contact’s name? Where’s the stuff? We gotta set this up and get you some bail money,” Flip said, taking another drag.

“Johnny Bianchi, he’s up in Denver. My supplies is in that storage unit I was tellin’ you about, along with some cash I’ve already got tucked away. That’s the bail money, the rest is for us my friend!”

Flip could barely believe it. This guy had not only solidified he was a dealer, but that he was producing and selling a deadlier version of his drugs to the Mafia with the intent to kill. He wondered if the office was going to make him buy another round that night. Does it count when its still technically the same case?

“Well that’s a swell plan Kukowski, I gotta tell ya,” Flip said, getting off the hospital bed. The smoke from his cigarette trailed behind him as he moved to the windows at the far end of the room. “What do you think Jimmy? Will it work out for him?”

Kukowski’s eyebrows drew together in confusion. His body tensed up as much as it could being covered in plaster.

“I think it’s got some holes to it, but we can always take another listen later in court,” Jimmy’s voice came from the hallway followed by a loud shush from the nurse behind the desk.

Kukowski’s face went from confusion to realization to rage in just a few moments. Flip almost wished he could’ve taken a picture.

"You set me up!" He struggled against his restraints, his casts making it difficult for him to make much progress.

"Hey, you should give yourself more credit, you did most of the heavy lifting in that conversation. I think our friends up at the Denver PD will be thankful for the tip off,”

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you!” He was practically frothing at the mouth.

“You were already read your rights once, but I’ll say them again seeing as you clearly weren’t listening the first time. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney, if you cannot afford an attorney, one can be appointed to you to represent- " was as far as Flip made it before he was cut off by a deafening scream.

Kukowski thrashed wildly in his bed, incomprehensible threats sputtering from his mouth. Flip watched as the IV glass began to sway from the force, threatening to tip over and break.

"Nurse!" He called over the screaming of his suspect. He knew he couldn't get close enough to subdue him without getting injured himself.

Two nurses ran into the room at top speed, rushing to steady the equipment and the man. He continued to thrash despite the hold the women had on him. Flip stood out of the way, backed up against the far wall. Maybe this wasn’t the best way for him to drop his cover.

"We need a sedative!" One of the women called out into the hallway.

A few moments later, another nurse rushed to the room holding a small jar and a needle.

"How much?" She asked hurriedly, looking from the distressed patient to the distressed nurse.

“1 milligram!" The other nurse shouted back, trying to hold his cast down to prevent any further injury. “There’s no time to inject into the fluid, we need it intravenous!”

“Well shit, Carol! He’s covered in plaster that’s gonna take a second!” 

“Don’t curse! Just find an area, quick!”

"I'll fucking kill you!" Kukowski continued to shout, choking on his own spit, voice becoming more garbled. "I'll fucking kill you you god damn pig! You fuckin’-"

His voice died out and his eye rolled back into his head. Slowly he slumped back into the mattress. The woman had stuck him with the syringe, pulling it gently out of his neck once empty. The women sighed a breath of relief, backing away from the patient to get a better idea of what just happened.

"What the fuck?" The nurse holding the syringe looked to her coworkers, pushing a lock of hair back into her cap. "Why the fuck was he screaming about pigs?"

"This man over here, who needs to vacate the room immediately, by the way. I believe I specifically asked him not to raise the patient's blood pressure," the nurse who had been at the desk said in a clipped tone, staring down Flip.

The other two nurses turned to look at the source of their strife, noticing the man who’d been standing against the wall with a lit cigarette and a shocked expression. He made his way over to Kukowski’s bed once more, stubbing out his cig on an ashtray. The nurse who was holding the syringe made direct eye contact with him, her big brown eyes widening upon seeing him.

“You’re the pig?” She blurted out.

Realization clicked in his brain as he focused on her. This couldn't be happening right now.

"Eliana?"

He hadn’t recognized her. Her long curly hair was held back in a tight roll and covered by a nurse’s cap. Her uniform matched with the others in the room, a stark white dress that stepped above the knee with a matching apron.

"You know this guy?" The other nurse asked.

"Barely. You guys make sure the patient is okay, I’ll take care of him,” she said, grabbing him by the arm and shepherding him out of the room.

He was too shocked to stop her as they went down the corridor, passing his partner on the way.

"What the fuck just happened in there? It sounded like a fuckin’ murder spree,” He hissed.

"I'll explain later," he ripped his wire off himself and threw it toward his partner.

"Where are you going?" He asked as Elle dragged Flip further down the hall.

“I said later!" He yelled back as she pushed him into a spare room.

She was surprisingly strong, her shove causing him to stumble a little as he entered the vacant room. Beds were set up to house two patients but both remained empty. She closed the door behind them and turned to look at him. Even though he was half a foot taller than her, she straightened her spine and rested her hands on her hips as she spoke.

"Are you stalking me?" She questioned him.

"What?" He spat out.

"You're at my job. I didn't tell you where I work but here you are, were you stalking me?"

"No! Of course not! I'm a cop, hence the yelling about pigs. I’m here with my partner for work, that guy I was talking to was a suspect in a drug ring. And as of five minutes ago, wanted for working with the mob,"

"Do you usually rile up mobsters like that? That seemed pretty fucking stupid,"

"Christ, you've got a mouth on you,"

"And after you work him into a frenzy, why not send in the nurses? Have you ever tried to sedate a man actively trying to kill someone? Do you know how hard it is to jab someone with a needle full of a very specific amount of sedative into a very specific area?" She continued her interrogation, choosing to ignore his comment. The hand holding the syringe pointed toward him accusingly.

"Can you please put the needle down when you're talking?"

She slammed it down on a bedside table.

"Can you please not fuck with my patients?"

"Well sorry, it wasn't intentional. I was just trying to do my job,"

"Yeah? Well try harder next time," she spat out, looking annoyed.

He was quiet for a moment, taking in her new appearance. She looked much different than she had at the bar. Her turtleneck and pants had been replaced with a tidy nurse uniform. Her heels were replaced with sensible loafers, shaving a few inches off her height. Even standing straight, she only came to his collarbone. Her fiery spirit remained the same though, if not a little more intimidating as she stood by the needle.

"I didn't know you were a nurse," he said quietly.

"Didn't know you were a cop," she responded, her expression softening just a fraction.

"Is that a problem?" He asked, half-expecting her to be angry with him.

"Only if you keep getting in the way of my job," she responded. "He might be a criminal but he can't go to jail if you give him a heart attack and he dies,"

"Noted," he gave a small smile.

She returned it.

"Haven't seen you around the bar," he said.

"So you were looking? You sure you aren't stalking me?" She raised an eyebrow.

"No, I just-" he didn't want to look like he'd spent the last couple of nights intentionally looking out for her.

"It's okay, I'm just messing with you. I've had double shifts the last couple of days so I've been too tired to do anything when I get off work,"

"That's understandable," he knew what those nights were like, he's had quite a few of them himself.

He felt a little better about not seeing her around knowing it had been because of work and not him. He wanted to ensure this wouldn't happen again, he wanted to get to know her better. He was going to ask for her number, maybe take her out on a date. It had been a while since he went on a real date, the idea made him a little nervous.

Suddenly, she stepped closer to him, hand traveling up to his neck. He was startled by the sudden contact, but let her continue. His top buttons came loose as he ripped off his wire, revealing his necklace.

"ir've eydish?" she asked, holding the Star of David between her delicate fingers.

"What?" He didn't catch what she had said.

"You're Jewish?" she seemed to already know the answer judging by her smile.

She removed her hands from his neck to go to her own. She pointed to the delicate chain peeking out of the collar of her uniform, holding a small Star of David pendant.

"There don't seem to be too many of us around here,"

"Yeah, it's a pretty small number," he mused, fixing his shirt and tucking his necklace away.

"Do you have family in town?"

"No, I grew up in Nebraska, but my family moved further south a few years ago,” he wasn't sure where she was going with that question.

"The next day I have off is for Rosh Hashanah. I'm having one of my coworkers over and her boyfriend, it's nothing big. But it's nice to have people around for the holidays, you should come by,"

"I'm uh...my parents, we never really celebrated anything so I’m not really sure how that would go. I wouldn't want to impose," he stuttered out. He grew up in a secular family, the only time they celebrated was if they went to visit family elsewhere.

"That's okay, there's a first for everything," she said. She reached for a pen and paper from the clipboard by the bed. "I'm writing down my address and my number, swing by before sundown on Friday, maybe seven-ish?“

"Should I bring anything?" He asked, taking the paper and shoving it in his wallet for safekeeping.

"You could buy me that drink maybe?" She winked at him, opening the door and starting to walk out. "I'm partial to red wine,"

She put the clipboard back and picked up the syringe.

"I have to get back to work, gotta make sure you didn't mess up my patient's recovery," she explained, heading for the door. "I'll see you Friday?"

She stopped in the door frame, looking back at him, waiting for his answer.

"Friday, before sundown, red wine," he recited back to her. She smiled and disappeared from view, the sound of her footsteps echoing down the hall.

He left a moment later, as she was turning into Kukowski's room at the other end of the hall. She looked so composed, her uniform pressed and her hair rolled into submission. She was still smiling as she disappeared into the room.

"Earth to Zimmerman," A finger snapped in his face, waking him from a trance he didn't know he was in.

Jimmy was standing in front of him, looking annoyed. The recorder was under his arm and the wires were sticking out of his front pocket.

"What the fuck just happened in there? The nurse marched you into the room looking like she was ready for murder and came out smiling,"

"I think I just got a date," he responded, feeling awestruck.

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

Did you know Emergency Medicine is a pretty recent creation? I was originally going to make Eliana an ER nurse but turns out that wasn't really a thing in the 70′s! It was just starting to become a specialization at the time but most hospitals only had a room or two set aside for emergency cases. Want to learn more? Here’s a cool article!

“ir’ve eydish?” is my best attempt at Yiddish in English letters. Eliana is asking Flip if he’s Jewish.

People do actually cut heroin with caffeine, be careful with your drugs people! 

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #flip zimmerman x oc #flip x reader #flip x oc #masterlist #ARTBmasterlist