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teamhook · 4 years

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A Chapter A Day... Savage Heart CS AU :: Finale

Well, this is it the last of the month and a chapter a day. Today I give you the final two chapters. Yes, I know I don’t know how to count. :) Sorry.

I wanna thank @ilovemesomekillianjones my beta for the story. She is amazing! The sweetest person and I was lucky she agreed to help me with this story.

The lovely cover was made by the awesome @xhookswenchx one of the first to give love to this story.

I also wanna thank @ultraluckycatnd for looking over the last chapter to calm my nerves. I was afraid I was rushing.

|AO3| |FFN| previous chapter

|AO3| |FFN| current chapter

Chapter 30: New Beginnings

~~~Golden Cove

After a celebratory dinner at the Nolan's home, celebrating Killian and Emma's union, Emma's safe return, and the fact that the whole family was all back together, along with a few new faces, Graham had decided to go back to Golden Cove.

He is determined to find out the culprits of the capture of the young Mrs. Jones. She had mentioned two young boys, both from Misthaven, the Doctor, and a man they called Peters. One of the boys had aided her in her escape. Graham had asked a few locals about the Doctor and Peters but they had claimed to not know anything about either man. The frustration he feels is great, he has lived on the outskirts of town not far from them for years. He has sold them furs and meat but he is still seen as an outsider. They still don't trust him.

After days of having no leads he decides to go to one of the seediest taverns in town since alcohol is known to loosen people's tongues. He hopes to find a little luck in his pursuit of justice. The tavern is small, but it's filled with rowdy men and a few familiar faces. There is one that catches his attention. A former Doctor, who usually keeps to himself is surrounded by drunken men. The man is spending a lot of money, yet there is no explanation for his small fortune. His practice is currently nonexistent.

Graham approached the table with a smile. "Good day, Mr. Hyde." The Doctor smiles, "Good day, huntsman. How's hunting treating you?"

"It has been a bit slow, how about you? You seem to be in good spirits." Graham sits down across from the man.

"I came into a bit of money thanks to an old friend." There is a slight slur to Hyde's voice.

"An old friend?" Graham asks. Perhaps this is the lead he needs.

The Doctor nods, "Yes, helped out an old friend and he was generous."

"Sounds great, do you think your friend could help me out? Hunting has been too slow lately," Graham prodded.

"I'm afraid that is no longer a possibility. He's gone back to town."

"Too bad, I could have used some generosity myself," Graham sighs. "Could you let your friend know about me in case there's another opportunity?"

"I'll keep it in mind. You never know, maybe Malcolm will need help once more."

"Is your friend Malcolm from around here?"

"Yes, he owns a house just outside of town."

Graham starts piecing the puzzle together. The house where Emma was kept was outside of town, the mysterious Malcolm, and the Doctor. "Outside of town, isn't that property owned by Fiona Black?"

"Yes, that's Malcolm's late wife's maiden name."

"Oh, isn't it uncommon for a woman not to take her husband's name?"

"Fiona was a piece of work. She enjoyed making Malcolm feel worthless. When she died, Malcolm didn't shed a tear."

"The name Malcolm sounds familiar, what's his last name?"

"Oh, Peters. I doubt you know him, he has long been gone from town."

"I just thought I had heard someone mention him recently," Graham responds. He just has to act natural so Hyde won't get spooked. He wants to appeal to his good side and hopes to convince him to provide information. When Graham has what he needs, he parts ways with the Doctor.

Unfortunately, Graham isn't the only one that had noticed the good doctor's newfound wealth, and on his walk home, Doctor Hyde finds himself on the wrong side of a blade.

All that Graham finds at Doctor Hyde's place is the last piece of jewelry the man had squirreled away.

~~~Booth Estate

Cora arrives back home with Malcolm and is greeted by Milah casually leaning on the wall facing the front door, a smirk dancing on her face. "Please, tell me I have to play the grieving widow."

Cora clenches her jaw and sneers at the woman she has grown to hate. "In a perfect world, you'd be dead."

Milah rolls her eyes and sighs. "So that's a no. Too bad, I look great in black." She walks away thinking that luck isn't on her side, she had hoped Killian would free her from her marriage. All she can do is wonder why he didn't kill August?

Enith nervously asks, "Is there anything I can do for you, ma'am?"

Cora quickly responds, "Did my son come home?"

"I'm afraid not, ma'am."

Cora sighs as she walks toward the open door she had forgotten to close when she first arrived home. She looks out and wonders where the hell August has gone. "Enith, let me know the moment he arrives."

Enith curtsies, "Yes, ma'am."

~~~Nottingham's Office

"Mr. Booth, tell me what you have in mind?"

"Simply take everything from him. His money, his wife, his freedom."

Sheriff Nottingham smiles. "I like the way you think, and I may have just the perfect place to start."

August nods. "Tell me."

"I'm in possession of the pirate's ship. We recently raided a different ship with stolen goods. The pirate claims he has a reputable business. We can claim otherwise. We fill his ship with contraband. He will lose his newfound reputation, and his wife will see him for the louse he is. He will rot in prison for the rest of his life."

"Do it." August quickly agrees with the plan.

Nottingham smiles wickedly. "I'll take care of it."

August leaves the office with a smile.

Nottingham orders some of the guards at the prison to transfer the confiscated items to the ship.

~~~Misthaven

After being dumped by Malcolm back at the docks in the port town, Felix had been in a bad mood. He had taken out his anger on Rufio, talking down to him and even giving him an occasional beating. Rufio has had enough.

They had been told to stick by the old woman's home and not to venture to the docks. The older lady is kind to them, but Rufio is tired and he misses the smell of the sea. He also wants to make sure Emma had made it back home. He knows that she will get the Captain to forgive him. It doesn't take long for him to reach the house, staying in the shadows. He won't approach Captain Jones until he knows the Captain has talked to his wife.

Felix, on the other hand, tries to contact Malcolm and fails, so he starts hanging out at the docks, blatantly ignoring the man's instructions. He's currently sitting on top of some old discarded crates looking at the horizon.

The older sailors just walk by him like he doesn't exist. The only one who had ever acted like an orphan like him mattered, was Captain Jones, but he went and married that woman. He knows Rufio let her go. Felix is surprised when he sees Mr. Peters walking toward him with a scowl on his face.

"Felix, what are you doing here?" Malcolm hisses. "I told you to stay put." He grabs the boy's arm. "I don't have time for this."

Felix glares at Malcolm. "Maybe you'll make time if Captain Jones found out you were responsible for his wife's disappearance."

Malcolm stares at him. "I'm sorry, you're right. Come along." Felix complies with a smile.

The older man leads him to the tavern by the docks. "Stay here, I have to go inside to look for someone."

"I can go in there," Felix whined.

"Just wait here, it will be a second." Malcolm walks inside and minutes later he emerges. "Alright let's go."

The smile returns to Felix's face. As they walk back to the docks, Felix stops. Malcolm turns to the boy annoyed. "Why are you stopping?"

"I want to show you something." Felix takes off running towards the beach.

Malcolm watches the boy run to the beach. He has a job to do but it seems the day has turned into him taking care of children. After the threat Felix made earlier, he decides to go after him. When he finally reaches him, he finds Felix kicking rocks into the water. They're standing on a ledge on a cliff overlooking the water. Malcolm peers over, the water is surprisingly calm.

Felix turns to Malcolm. "We call this Skull Rock. All the lost boys come here to watch the ships arrive. We would watch the Jolly from miles away and then run to the docks to meet Captain Jones."

Malcolm smiles and nudges Felix. The boy reacts fast enough to grab onto the ledge, the rocks crumbling under his grip. "Please, help me. Don't let me fall. I don't know how to swim." Little does he know that the fall will kill him before he drowns.

Malcolm smirks. "Felix, what kind of sailor doesn't know how to swim?" With those words, he kicks at Felix. Felix loses his grip and falls. One last look and Malcolm walks away. He liked the boy, he really did, but he had threatened him. What was he to do?

Now to find his boss.

Malcolm was so busy trying to get back to his task that he failed to notice Rufio had just witnessed the whole thing.

An hour or so later, Malcolm finds August at the Golden Goose Tavern, passed out.

Malcolm finally returns to the Booth Estate with August in tow.

~~~Jones Home

The group arrives at the house and seats themselves in the living room. Everyone is still shaken by this new secret that's come to light.

Emma is caressing Killian's stubbled cheek while she sniffles. She is trying to come to terms with today's events and the scare of possibly losing him.

Killian turns his attention to Archie. "Did you know?" he asks, then laughs humorlessly at his own question. "Of course you knew, that's why you looked out for me, right?" His eyebrow raises. "Not because you cared for me, but because of him - my so-called father. I always wondered why I was so lucky to have your protection." Emma kept her hand on Killian's arm as he ranted.

Archie stayed quiet.

Killian turned to Emma. "Milah was right, and you didn't know before today?"

Emma locks eyes with her husband. "No, Killian. I found out today. The only reason Cora told me was because she wanted my help in stopping you from killing August. We already talked about this, before I was kidnapped. I'm sorry, Killian, that you had to grow up alone, thinking you had no one, when in actuality, you had two brothers. I wouldn't have kept this secret from you." She flinches as she looks at Archie's fallen face.

Liam finally breaks his silence. "Brother, do you think you and August can mend your friendship?"

Killian scoffs, "I doubt it; he wants me dead and my wife in his bed."

Emma and Tink share a look that isn't missed by Killian. "Tink, what was that look about?" He is glaring at her.

Tink mouths sorry to Emma. "He came here looking for you and he got handsy with Emma."

Killian turns to Emma. "Darling, you didn't think I should know that? What did he do, did he hurt you?" He looks her over to make sure there are no bruises.

Emma sighs. "He was drunk and I was going to tell you but I wanted to wait until the shock of finding out your brothers wore off. He got handsy and when I said no, he tried harder. Tink helped me but I just didn't want you to do something you'd regret. He is your brother."

"Darling, you should have said something. He shouldn't have touched you. This is all my fault."

"Brother, I hate to interrupt, but I'm afraid we need to inform Emma's parents of the situation. Not everything bad people do is your fault Killian." He turns to Emma. "I'm happy you're alright." He smiles at her fondly.

"Liam is right, they need to know about Milah. It's about time they find out the truth. It's gonna break their hearts, but it's for the best."

Killian sighs. "They're going to hate me. What if they ask you to leave me?"

Emma shakes her head. "I would never do that. I love you. They might be angry at first but you didn't force Milah into anything. Milah has always done whatever she wants."

~~~The Nolans

After a lengthy conversation, Emma and Killian go talk to her parents about the Milah situation. Emma wants to make sure her parents get Killian's side of the story before Milah's. Her cousin is conniving and she would use any means to ensure that Killian is seen as the villain. His past is going to make it hard enough to believe their version rather than whatever fanciful story Milah comes up with.

Liam and Nemo hesitate in going with them, but Emma convinces them to go since Ingrid and Elsa are staying at her parents' house. The mere mention of Elsa puts a smile on Liam's face after the day they've had. Nemo agrees saying it is sensible for someone with a clear head to be there. Archie is quiet as he accompanies them and Tink decides to stay home.

The Nolans are engaged in a lovely post-dinner conversation with their visitors Ingrid and Elsa, and Snow has just excused herself to get some cookies and tea for the group.

David enjoys having his old friends around him; it feels like old times. Of course, there is the added bonus that he is back with his family, his lovely wife, and daughters. Although Milah isn't his, he loves her as if she is. She is all he has left of his brother. While enjoying the company, Emma and Killian arrive with the rest of the houseguests.

David notices Emma's demeanor. He knows his daughter and she looks upset.

"Father, we need to talk to you in private," Emma tells him after she says her hellos to everyone.

"This sounds serious." He turns to their guests and excuses himself. "Should I fetch your mother?"

Emma turns to Killian. "Yes, it would be best if we don't have to repeat the story. We'll be waiting in your office."

David goes to go get Snow and they return to their guests with enough cookies and tea for the new arrivals as well. They excuse themselves from their company to tend to Emma and Killian. The young couple is sitting down by the time Snow and David arrive and take their seats.

"All right, what's going on?" David asks.

"Mom, Dad, there's no easy way to say this… so I am just going to say it. Milah and Killian had a relationship before she married August, August found out and he challenged Killian to a duel but Cora and I stopped it because it turns out that August and Killian are brothers." Emma summarizes the events, relaying them as quickly as she can.

Snow and David turn to each other and for a brief second have a mental conversation. Then David gets up and approaches Killian. Emma reacts quickly as she stands to block her father's path. Killian squeezes her arm.

Snow gasps. "The rumor, it was her! It was her all along and she didn't think twice about saying it was Emma."

David is glaring at Killian over Emma's shoulder. "What rumor are you speaking of?"

Emma is the one to answer. "There was a rumor around town about one of the Nolan Countesses having a relationship with Killian. And yes, Mother, it was Milah."

"Emma, how can you be so calm? Did you know about this?"

"I did, Dad," Emma answers with a small smile.

"And you still married him?" David is itching to punch Killian. "Did he force you to?"

"He didn't force anyone. Not me, not Milah."

David's glare intensifies.

"Dad, they were betrothed, Milah promised to marry Killian and instead married August, while Killian was away on business. Yes, I knew. I found out shortly after she married August. I thought about exposing the affair but who would believe me? I would be accused of lying because I was being spiteful."

Snow is quiet. "This is all my fault; I've spoiled Milah. I remember when the rumor was mentioned, before she claimed it had been Emma, and it was her. How could she accuse Emma knowing full well it wasn't, David?" she sighs. "Emma is right. If she would have said something, she would have been accused of lying. Milah didn't even think twice about accepting August's proposal."

"Mom, Dad, that's not the worst thing. I think she was responsible for my kidnapping."

"Emma, how can you say that? She is your family." David shakes his head in denial.

"I say it because she is vile and she wants Killian." Emma glares at her father.

David turns his face away to avoid his daughter's scowl, and so he doesn't argue further. "Alright, so August knows and there was a duel?"

Emma nods. "Yes, and I helped Cora stop it with a letter saying that Killian is Brennan Booth's son. We just didn't want you to be surprised by the revelation if Cora or August come here. I don't know what they plan to do about Milah, they might want to return her."

David and Snow exchange looks before he sighs. "Snow what are we going to do with her?" Snow closes her eyes and tears fall out. "We tried to be good parents. I went out of my way so she wouldn't feel we favored you - but it seems as if it was all for nothing. As for the Killian situation, I'm not surprised. I did tell you I saw a resemblance."

"Mom, you knew?"

"I wasn't sure. I saw the letter but when I asked Cora, she denied it. I'm guessing because of reputation."

"I guess saving August's life was more important than that."

Killian finally spoke. "Mr. and Mrs. Nolan, Milah approached me. I'm not saying I have no responsibility in the matter. I was going to marry her upon my return from Arendelle but I was too late. I was angry and I wanted her back. Then I met Emma and we got to know each other and little by little the anger was replaced by something else. Before we knew it and were able to accept it, we fell in love. I swear I only want to be a man deserving of her love. I've made mistakes, I cannot deny that, but your daughter is the love of my life."

Killian's words appease his in-laws, not to mention, neither Snow nor David can deny the love that flows between the young couple.

As the day comes to an end, Killian and Emma make their departure, retreating to their home. Her parents hadn't opted to make her a widow and she is grateful because she's extremely fond of her husband.

As they lay down for the night, Emma notices Killian is very calm and decides to take advantage, "Killian?"

He turns to look at her with a smile, things had gone a lot better than expected. "Yes, my love."

"Rufio, uhm he helped me and I'm worried about him." Emma feels him tense up. "Killian, I told him you would forgive him if I asked. So I'm asking, when I find him, please forgive him. He took care of me. He talked about you nonstop and I think it was for my benefit, so I wouldn't miss you. He helped me escape. Please."

Killian sighs. "Your wish is my command. I'll do my best to look past his actions."

"I don't think it was their fault. They were led to believe that without me, you would go back to your life at sea."

"Who would do that?"

"Rufio mentioned a man, Peters, and the name didn't sound familiar until today."

"Why today, love?"

"Cora introduced him to me while we went looking for you. That's his last name. It has to be more than just a coincidence that he lives at the Booth Estate. I've suspected Milah from the moment I woke up in that place."

Emma snuggles closer, his strong arms engulfing her. There's a silence between them as they contemplate what has transpired since they met, and soon they fall asleep. Tomorrow will be a better day.

~~~Booth Home *Next Day

Cora is anxiously still waiting for August to wake up. He had been passed out when Malcolm had retrieved him from some tavern. She could smell the cheap alcohol coming off him when Malcolm brought him home. She couldn't regret her actions because all that mattered was that her son was alive. She would deal with the consequences of her secret being out later. She just hopes he didn't make any more stupid decisions.

August wakes up hungover and he's a little disorientated. All the memories come back from the previous night. He stumbles as he dresses to go get something to drink. His mouth is dry and he has a headache. The path to the dining room is too bright but he carries on. The only thing that gives him comfort is that his mother thought of making up one of the guest rooms for him. Just the thought of going to his marital room makes him sick.

He will go see the Sheriff to make sure that Jones is taken care of. Oh, and he will ask Nottingham to ensure that he will not allow Emma passage to see Killian. He knows that in time, Emma will realize Killian isn't the man for her.

His mother sits at the head of the table, eating some fruit. She looks at him as he enters the room. "Son, good you're awake. We need to talk."

"Good morning, Mother. I don't want to talk right now." His eyes turn to Milah. "Whore, shouldn't you be on your back?"

Milah smirks. "You loved me on my back." She returns her attention to her tea.

"Apparently I wasn't the only one, but soon your lover will get what he deserves," August mocks.

Milah studies August's demeanor, he has an appeal he didn't have before. She shakes her head. She looks down at her plate and pushes it aside. She hasn't been able to keep anything down.

Cora glares at Milah. "I hate you, and you will get what you deserve, you vile whore." Cora stands up and storms off.

Milah has an idea of what ails her but she hopes she is wrong. She can't go to the doctor, but she can go to the healer. She goes back to her room and dresses. No one seems to care about her whereabouts anymore. She has a horse saddled and makes her trip.

The healer confirms her suspicions. She is pregnant and the father has to be August. Her little indiscretion with the Sheriff was recent and she had felt the symptoms shortly after her honeymoon. Now to decide if she wants to claim the child is Killian's and destroy his marriage or tell the truth and have the child be the heir of the Booth Estate.

~~~Jones Home

Emma and Killian are sharing breakfast with Tink while they tell her about the events from the prior day when there's a pounding at the door. Tink smiles. "I'll get it. You two enjoy your breakfast." Tink rushes to the door since the pounding is getting louder.

Sheriff Nottingham is standing at the door. As soon as the door opens, he pushes his way through. "Where's Jones? I'm here to arrest him. We found contraband on his ship, The Jolly Roger." His men follow him inside.

Tink glares at him. "You know perfectly well that he gave up the ship for Emma's return."

The Sheriff waves some documents in her face. "These papers name him as the owner of the ship and the warehouse. Jones, come out and face me!" he screams.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Killian demands as he and Emma come into the living room.

"Killian Jones, you're under arrest for contraband of stolen goods," Nottingham informs him.

Killian is frozen in place and he turns to Emma. His strong, lovely Emma.

Emma glares at Nottingham. "What proof do you have?"

"Ma'am, this is really not any of your business. You should go to your room," Sheriff Nottingham says, annoyed.

"You bloody git, you will show my wife the respect she deserves," Killian growls through gritted teeth.

"If she wanted respect, she should have married a man of honor," Nottingham mocks. The two men standing next to the foul lawman start walking toward Killian.

Killian turns to Emma. "Love, get Archie. He has proof about the legitimacy of my business. Don't worry, I will be home before you know it." Killian agrees to go with Nottingham if only to save Emma any further embarrassment from watching him being arrested.

As they watch Killian being manhandled into the Sheriff's carriage, Tink turns to Emma. "I'll go get Archie. Don't worry Emma."

Emma's eyes are watery from the tears that are threatening to fall. She turns to Tink. "I think my dad can help too, and Liam. He needs to know about Killian."

"Emma, you do know this is not true. Killian has turned his life around and it's all because of you."

Emma sniffles, "I know."

Tink takes off to go fetch Archie.

Emma is restless. She wants to go ask her dad for help getting Killian out of trouble. She keeps pacing and she is going to go crazy if she doesn't do something.

Rufio had slept on the beach, he's lucky it's still warm. He doesn't know if Peters is looking for him to get rid of him too. He needs to go talk to Mrs. Jones, and can only hope Captain Jones doesn't kill him on sight.

Rufio arrives at the Jones home. He's second-guessing his decision but he's alone. Felix was his closest friend and now he is gone. He can't go to the Sheriff because he won't care about an orphan.

The door flies open and Rufio is startled. Emma's eyes widened. "Rufio?"

He smiles. "Is it safe?"

Emma opens the door wider. "Come in," she tells the boy.

"Mrs. Emma is everything alright?"

"Rufio, everything will be okay. I've been so worried about you. What are you doing here?"

"He's dead," Rufio mutters as his bottom lip trembles.

"Who's dead?" she asks.

"Felix," he whispers as Emma pulls him into a hug.

Nottingham's Office

Sheriff Nottingham is grinning as he finishes filling out paperwork. Killian sits in the chair as the Sheriff hums happily at his turn in luck.

"Alright, take Jones here to his new home. Oh, and make sure it's the filthiest cell. And no bunkmates," Nottingham orders the two henchman standing guard at the door.

The men grab Killian roughly by the shoulders and head to the dungeons.

~~~

Tink arrives at Archie's office and tells him the news. He tells her to go be with Emma since Killian wouldn't want her to be alone. He promises to gather David and Liam and then head to the Sheriff's office.

Once at the Nolan's, Archie informs them of the situation as relayed to him by Tink. Archie, Liam, and Nemo head to the Sheriff's office and David heads to Emma's side.

As soon as Emma opens the door, she crashes into her father's arms. "Dad before you say anything, Killian is innocent. That horrible man made a show of arresting him." She tries not to let the tears flow.

David holds her tight and sighs. "Sweetheart, I know you love him, but is he worth all this trouble? The thing with Milah and now this?"

Emma stiffens and pushes herself away from her father's embrace. "If you're not here to help then maybe you should leave. I love him, Dad, and I know he is innocent. The thing with Milah, it wasn't just him. Yet somehow he is the only villain in the situation."

David nods. "Alright, I will go see him once we have more details. Archie, Liam, and Nemo went to go talk to the Sheriff. All we can do for now is wait. Emma, your mother wanted to come but she was convinced by Ingrid and Elsa to wait for more information."

They head to the kitchen where Tink and Rufio are drinking some hot tea.

David quirks a brow at the sight of the young man.

"Oh, Dad this is Rufio, He helped me escape."

David's eyes go wide. "Emma, how can you have someone in your home that kidnapped you?"

"Dad, stop it." Rufio stands up, but a quick look to Emma makes him take his seat.

"He and Felix were manipulated by an older man who used their desire to be in Killian's crew. The other boy was killed yesterday by the same man."

"Emma, do you know who kidnapped you?"

"I know there was the doctor, Rufio, and Felix. The one that gave instructions was a man named Peters, who happens to be the steward at the Booth Estate."

"What?" David's voice rises.

"It can't just be a coincidence."

"Shouldn't we go to the Sheriff with this information?"

"You want to go to the man that arrested my husband?"

"We have to go to someone. If that man was truly responsible, he needs to be held accountable. Emma, he's the law. We have to inform him."

"I want to go visit Killian."

"Sweetheart, that place isn't somewhere you should be. I don't think Killian would want you to see him there. I'll go check on Killian. I know Liam, Nemo, and Archie were going to go find more information."

"Fine, I'll go talk to Cora. She owes me for helping her stop the duel and she needs to know what kind of man is working for her. Dad, make sure Killian is okay. I'll take Tink with me, Rufio will stay here."

Rufio looks up at the mention of his name.

Emma smiles at him. "It's safer this way. That way Mr. Peters doesn't see you."

Tink stands up. "I'm ready to go. But, Emma are you sure she can help?"

Emma tilts her head. "She is a Booth and they're powerful. If Sheriff Nottingham wants to keep his job, he will listen to her."

Emma is determined to get Killian out of that prison and she is starting to worry about just how dangerous Peters could be. Did Cora know what he was up to? If that was the case, that meant she was responsible for her kidnapping. Milah made more sense. Why would Cora want her kidnapped? Emma tries to think of possible reasons.

The carriage arrives at the Booth Estate. Emma and Tink walk to the door and knock.

"Darling girl, I didn't expect to see you so soon," Cora greets them, opening the door herself, for them to enter.

"Is Enith sick?" Emma asks as they enter the house.

Cora rolls her eyes. "No, she's fine. Now tell me, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit."

"I need a favor," Emma says as she and Tink follow the older woman toward the office.

"A favor, what kind of favor?" Cora asks.

"I should say it's more of a payback for all those years my husband was alone."

Cora's smile thins. "What trouble has befallen the pirate?"

"He was arrested."

"I'm sorry Emma, but I can't say I'm surprised."

Tink scoffs. "Lady, Killian is innocent. Sheriff Nottingham knows this. He is saying there was contraband on the Jolly, but Killian gave it up in exchange for Emma. Nottingham hates Killian."

Emma smiles. "We still have the letter. The one that saved your son's life."

"Well, this is interesting. I'm being blackmailed by the pirate's wife."

Emma shakes her head. "Think of it as you wish. All I want is my husband home."

"Fine, I'll see what I can do."

"Oh and Cora, how well do you know Mr. Peters?"

"Why do you ask?"

Emma sighs and continues. "He was the one that ordered my kidnapping and that's not all. One of the boys he tricked into helping him was killed by his hand."

Cora turns white. "How can you make such serious accusations?"

"I befriended one of the boys and he helped me escape. He told me Peters' name and he saw him kill the other boy. I don't understand why he would want to kidnap me, but I think it has to do with Milah."

"I'm sorry darling, but your cousin is despicable. I wouldn't put it past her." Cora knows that Malcolm acted under her own orders, but blaming Milah couldn't be an easier out and it didn't bother her one bit.

"Is she here?" Emma asks.

"She was here earlier. I'm sorry dear, but I'd rather not have to lay eyes on her. As for your favor, I will see what I can do."

"Cora, you owe him. You owe us."

"I'll go talk to the Sheriff and I will stop by your house with news."

"Thank you." Emma nods to Tink and they both rise to leave.

Cora follows them out. As she watches the carriage leave, she wonders what trouble Malcolm has gotten into.

Nottingham's Office

Liam, Nemo, and Archie arrive and the quiet mannered man pounds on the door. Sheriff Nottingham welcomes them with a wide grin on his sleazy face.

"Please, come in and sit. Would any of you like something to drink? It's a special occasion for me so please don't judge me too harshly if I enjoy some rum," the lawman says as he pours himself a drink.

Archie is outraged. "You have no case against Killian and you know it! I have proof." He throws some documents on the desk.

The Sheriff smiles and tisks. "After all these years, you should call me by my first name, Keith. We have proof of stolen goods found on the ship."

Archie laughs. "You know that the ship was forfeited by Killian as a ransom for his wife. So you got your hands on the ship when Tink told you about the letter. We all know that the warehouse is clean of any stolen merchandise. This is just an attempt to finally best Killian by framing him. You didn't realize that he is not alone. He is not that poor orphan you've tried to step on."

"I agree with Archie, my brother is innocent and the proof you claim to have was planted by you. If we have to prove it we will, but mark my words Sheriff, you will pay for your treachery. Your questionable reputation is well known."

"Perhaps you all should be more respectful since I'm the one that decides if any of you get to see the pirate," Nottingham mocks. "But since I'm in such a great mood I will allow all of you to visit him." He smiles and yells out, "Guards!"

Nottingham sweats a bit but he feels confident that with August's support and the fact that Killian has a reputation, it will all turn out in his favor.

The men descend to the dungeons. Nemo and Archie quietly follow Liam and the guards leading the way. The cell is small, with a cot against the wall and a small barred window. Killian is looking out the window.

"I'm not in the bloody mood, Nottingham."

Liam clears his throat. "Brother, it's us."

Killian turns and walks to the barred door. "Liam, please take Emma to Arendelle. I don't want her to live with the humiliation that being married to me will inevitably bring. She deserves better. Perhaps even in time, she will find a suitor. I doubt I will get out of here. Nottingham will do everything in his power to make sure I rot in here."

Archie approaches from the back. "We will get you out of here. I promise."

Killian turns away as the three men leave with an unspoken promise to reunite the Captain with his wife.

Nottingham is sitting at his desk unable to hide his joy when the door opens and August saunters inside, uninvited.

August smiles. "I'm assuming it's done?"

"It is," he confirms with a wide grin.

"Any chance he'll try to escape?" August asks, sitting down.

"No, he wants to be an honorable man. If he attempted it, it would only make him look guilty."

"Sheriff, a favor, please. Ensure he isn't allowed visits from his wife."

"Of course. Hopper and some other men were visiting with him. The guards just let them out."

"I saw them come out before I entered. I should pay his wife a visit, to offer her my shoulder to cry on."

"How noble of you," Nottingham says. "Although, I'd advise you not to do that. Perhaps act as if you're unaware of the trouble that has befallen them."

August ponders the man's words, he could instead apologize for his behavior. "Thank you for your advice. I have a feeling things are going to start looking up for me."

The Sheriff wonders what Booth means by that, but he doesn't care to ask.

Hours later, David arrives at Nottingham's office and the man reluctantly allows him to visit Killian.

Killian swears to his father-in-law that he didn't do what he's accused of and begs him to keep an eye on Emma and to not bring her to see him like this. The thought of her in this place kills him. Mr. Nolan assures him that he believes him, if not only for the faith his daughter has in him. The distress he shows only increases the belief in his innocence.

Cora enters the office a little while later with an air of royalty. "Mr. Nottingham, I'm here to give you two choices. Please make sure you pick the right one. Release Killian Jones or cross me and bear the consequences. I'm sure you enjoy your job and the luxuries that come with it."

The Sheriff stares at her dumbfoundedly. "I'm sorry, are you threatening me?"

"Oh, dear Sheriff, you don't want to make an enemy out of me." She glares at him with her lips in a thin line. "I expect Mr. Jones to be released as soon as possible." Cora doesn't wait for an answer before sauntering out the door as regal as she had entered.

Emma is growing impatient, her dad has been gone for a while. No news from Cora or him is driving her crazy. She needs to know that Killian is okay, safe. As safe as he can be. So she sneaks out when Tink and Rufio are busy trying to make something for her to eat.

She reaches the Sheriff's faster than expected. She knocks and is called inside.

Sheriff Nottingham stands up as soon as his eyes land on her. She is a beautiful woman. He wonders if her desperation will lead her to some unsavory decisions. If he's honest, he wouldn't object to her trying to persuade him for her husband's freedom.

"Mrs. Jones, how can I help you?" His smile is lecherous to say the least.

"Sheriff, I'm here to see my husband." She stands tall with her head high.

"I'm afraid that's not possible," he shrugs.

"Excuse me? Why can't I see my husband?" Her fierce eyes threaten to burn him alive.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Jones, there are some things I need to check before the nuns visit tomorrow for their weekly visit. Please, excuse me." He stands and goes to the door, and she makes her way to the door as well.

Emma is not happy but she has an idea. She remembers that the nuns visit the prisoners weekly to take them food and blankets.

She smiles as she decides her next stop The Convent.

Mother Superior is surprised to see her, and has nothing but pity in her eyes when Emma shares the reason for her visit. At first, Mother Superior feelsEmma shouldn't visit Killian, but when Emma shares the information about the donations Killian has been making anonymously to the convent, the nun has a change of heart. The nun offers her help in the form of a habit and veil for Emma to wear.

Mother Superior hands her the items. "You will wear this. Perhaps, arrive early enough to change and then we can leave."

"Thank you, Mother Superior. Please, don't deny Killian the ability to give money to the orphans. He has a good heart and he thought you wouldn't accept the money if you knew where it came from."

Mother Superior smiles kindly at Emma.

Jones' Home

Tink is startled by a knock on the door and she goes to answer it. August Booth stands there with a smile on his face.

She locks eyes with him. "What do you want?"

"Is Emma home? I would like to apologize for my behavior."

Tink stares. "And you think it's proper for you to come looking for Emma and not ask for her husband to be present?"

"I owe Emma an apology, not the Pirate," he shrugs nonchalantly. "Could you please fetch her."

"I'm not the maid. And you should apologize to both Emma and Killian. All of you rich people think you're above Killian, but you did something Killian would have never ever done or had the need to. I'm sorry your wife lied to you but you're not the only victim here. She hurt Emma and Killian as well. To be honest, I don't think Emma is ready to see you." She slams the door in his face.

August stands in front of the door, reeling from what the girl had said. Not a lot of women would have talked to him like that. His position would have warranted him special treatment, but this girl didn't care who he was.

He decides to leave before she comes out to lecture him more. He feels dirty and ashamed.

Sometime later Emma arrives home just before her father arrives with an update. Emma is not happy to hear from her father's lips that Killian doesn't want her to go see him. She'll give him a piece of her mind when she sees him.

The last visit is from Cora to let her know she paid the Sheriff a visit and gave him an ultimatum. She assures Emma that he will take it.

That night, Emma finds comfort in the fact that she will see her husband soon.

~~~

After her visit with the Sheriff, Cora summons Malcolm. She tells him that he needs to finish his job before he leaves. He cannot stay if he values his freedom.

Malcolm meets Milah near the fields of the Booth Estate as she makes her way back home from her visit with the healer. He knows her well. He startles the horse which jumps and throws her off. She lays on the ground grabbing her stomach. "Malcolm, what are you doing?" she hisses.

Malcolm locks eyes with her. "My job." He presses his foot on her stomach.

Understanding dawns on Milah's face. Cora's words. In a perfect world you'd be dead.

"Wait-" she gasps, "the baby, it's a Booth."

Malcolm pauses for a second then resumes his attack. It must be a trick, a last resort for pity.

Once her life is gone he picks her body up and carries it to the horse and heads back to the Estate.

August can't get the blonde girl out of his mind. She has a fire that calls to him. He shakes his head. Last time he thought along the same line his heart got broken.

His thoughts are interrupted when he sees Malcolm walking beside his horse. The horse appears to be carrying a body. As the man gets closer it's easy to see who it is: Milah. He stays away.

Malcolm tells Cora about the mention of a baby. He swears it was a trick, but Cora asks him to get the doctor.

Sadly the doctor confirms the death of both the child and mother. Her grandchild. She's killed her son's child.

Malcolm decides it's his time to leave, Cora had given him his payment. He left, but not before telling her he was going to Port Hook to secure transport on a ship. He asks her to go with him.

~~~

Graham arrives at the Nolan's with a piece of jewelry and news of the doctor, and David informs them of what Emma had told him about Malcolm Peters.

Snow recognizes the piece. It was one she stopped wearing some years back, but it was one of a kind. Brennan had gifted it to her when she announced her pregnancy.

The question was simple: why kidnap Emma?

Who had to gain from her disappearance? Snow keeps wondering. If Emma is correct, Milah makes sense, but would the Booth steward do something like that for her?

The only person with power is Cora and the jewel belonged to her.

Snow remembers how desperate she was to find Emma. She asked Cora for help and in exchange, she wasn't supposed to reveal that Killian was Brennan's son.

That's the only thing that makes sense. Emma also said that she was not meant to be harmed. It was a scare tactic.

Ingrid and Elsa keep Snow company while the men try to get Killian out of prison. Graham had made a comment that Nottingham is not a man to be trusted and that he has heard rumors of people wanting to get rid of him.

Snow wonders if Cora is somehow behind the arrest of her son-in-law. If not Cora, it has to be August. He was the only one angry enough to pull something like this.

~~~Next Day

Emma wakes up earlier than normal to go to the convent. She is nervous and excited. It's thrilling to sneak around to go visit her husband. She wastes no time and dresses quickly and sneaks out before Tink and Rufio wake up. They are taking their job in keeping an eye on her too seriously. They both claim that would be the number one order from Killian. To keep her safe.

She arrives at the Convent soon enough and she is guided to one of the rooms to change. It is odd to be wearing the habit once more. She is sure to put on the veil. She hopes that the Sheriff doesn't notice her. Once they arrive at the prison, Mother Superior tells her to stay in the back so she is not visible.

Sheriff Nottingham greets them as soon as they arrive and he sends one of the guards with them.

The nuns split up and the guard keeps his attention on Mother Superior. She smiles at the man. "My girls are only going to hand out food and blankets. How dangerous can that be?"

The man gives them space. Emma distances herself from the group. She really hopes she is going the right way, something tells her she is. When you love someone you just know.

She walks to the last cell. It is dark and dirty. She approaches the bars. "Killian," she calls out as softly as she can.

The movement from the back of the cell catches her eye. A figure slowly approaches. "Emma, what are you doing here? I asked your father to not bring you."

Emma rolls her eyes. "As you can see, my father didn't bring me, the Lord did. And I don't listen, I never do."

He quirks a brow, and takes her in. She is wearing a nun habit. "Why are you wearing that?"

"The Sheriff didn't allow me to come see you. I had to see you. I needed to know you were alright."

"Love, I just want you to know that I'm innocent. I love you."

"I love you too, I miss you terribly. Tink and Rufio are driving me crazy!" she laughs.

"Yet, you're here without them. I will have words with them."

"No, Killian. This was the only way I could think of to get in here to see you."

"Love, be careful. You need to stick with Tink. I hope this is the last time you sneak away from them. I worry about you."

"I promise I'll take care of myself and I'll wait for your return."

"Emma, you have to consider that my return may not be possible."

"Well, I'm not giving up. No one is. We are getting you home. Cora will help."

"Love-"

"Don't say it-" she raises her hand.

"Sister, Emma. Sister."

"I have to go, but this is not over. I don't care what I have to do."

Killian stares as she walks into the dark hall leading her out.

Bloody hell.

~~~

The men are actively working together to overthrow the Sheriff. Graham had mentioned an old friend wanted to end the Sheriff's reign of terror. His beloved had experienced it first hand. They were tired of the poverty that man pushed upon the lower class. Nottingham is a greedy man but he still has one weakness. Marian Locksley. The one that got away. The one that chose another man. His pride would be the end of him.

Snow decides it's time to confront Cora, her oldest friend, and Cora welcomes Snow with open arms. After all, she does have to deliver the news of Milah's passing.

As soon as they are alone in the office, Snow can't keep quiet any longer. "You had my daughter kidnapped? Why, because of a secret?"

Cora stares at her with wide eyes before she can deny it.

Snow throws the piece of jewelry Hyde had in his possession.

Cora sighs. "I meant the girl no harm. I had to find a way to motivate you into staying quiet. In the end, the secret was revealed regardless."

"My daughter was just a pawn to you. You could have simply asked me to keep quiet."

"Snow, we both know you cannot keep a secret. It was a desperate move. I was just trying to protect my son."

"I may not know Killian that well, but he couldn't care less about your money."

"Please accept my apology. I will make things right. I'm helping Emma get her husband out of prison."

"And you think that makes it alright?"

"I haven't even mentioned your niece's horrible behaviour."

"Oh, Milah will be dealt with."

"Snow," Cora's face changes for a second. "About Milah, I'm afraid she had an accident and she is gone."

"She had an accident?"

"Yes, I was going to send word to you but you arrived."

"What kind of accident? I want to see her, and please don't pretend like you cared for her. You hated her."

"Doctor Whale is going to send a carriage to pick up her body, for now it is in her room."

"I still want to see her," Snow said. "She is my family."

Cora nods and escorts Snow to the room.

Snow gasps as she sees the body of her niece. She is so still and it's so surreal. Milah was full of life and now it's gone. The tears flow. How is she going to tell David?

"I'm really sorry, Snow. You have to believe me. If I had known about the baby, I would have made sure she was taking care of herself."

"Baby?" The one word makes August's presence known. He had been standing silently in the door entrance.

"She was with child?"

"I'm sorry, son. I meant to tell you."

"Did you do this? Did you hurt her to make her pay for her behavior?" Snow asked. "Like you had Emma kidnapped to keep me quiet?"

August turns to his mother. "Oh my god, you had Emma kidnapped? Milah was found by your right-hand man, Malcolm. What have you done?"

"Oh please, son. Get off your high horse. Tell Snow that you had her son-in-law arrested, your brother, all because he had the misfortune of meeting your wife first. And before you try to deny it, I had a talk with the Sheriff and he wouldn't release him when I asked because he thinks he has a better ally, and you're the only one that fits the description."

Snow scoffs. "You two deserve each other. I cannot believe there was a time I considered you both family." Snow storms out.

"I'm nothing like you, Mother." August spits the words like venom as he shakes his head and leaves as well.

Cora stands alone. Port Hook is starting to sound more appealing. Her son is as stubborn as his father. He will not forgive her.

August has never felt more sick. His mother had Emma kidnapped. She kept his brother from him. Yes, he still feels betrayed. Milah, oh how he loved her. She is gone, her and their child. His mother made sure of it. She didn't even deny it. The girl, Tink, had said his actions were beneath Killian. The pirate captain with the dastardly reputation was a better man than him. His brother. He had to make things right. Be the best man he could be and perhaps someday he could have a brother.

~~~

Marian Locksley waits for Sheriff Nottingham. She sits patiently in his office while he is no doubt torturing the inmates.

The Sheriff's surprise is evident when he notices her in his office. "Marian, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?"

She simply smiles but doesn't respond.

"Does your husband know you are here?"

"Yes, Robin knows I'm here. Now the reason for my visit is simple. I'm here to tell you that you're out. You are no longer Sheriff of Misthaven."

"Oh Marian, you have no power to do so."

"Keith Nottingham, did you really think no one knew of your disgusting indiscretions? How you take advantage of all the women that walk through your door? These women are so desperate to see their husbands freed, they are willing to do anything. They share your bed in exchange for their husbands' freedom and in order to keep their secrets, you blackmail them to continue. Let me tell you, it wasn't unnoticed."

He looks at her with sheer hatred. "You know, you are not as desirable as you once were. The years have not been kind to you. I've shared my bed with women who are breathtakingly beautiful like you once were. Now you are only an old hag."

"Yes, the years have not gone unnoticed, but those years? I would not trade them for one second with you. Now tell me, what deal did you make to get your hands on Captain Jones?"

"That doesn't concern you."

She pulls out a pistol and aims it towards him. "Actually, it does, because he helps the people. The orphans and all the people you like to step on. Why do you think you never had any proof to arrest him?"

"Guards!" he calls out.

"I'm sorry, no one is coming to save you. They're not your men."

The pistol goes off and from that distance, it is a fatal shot.

In the end, many changes came.

Killian was freed upon the death of Sheriff Nottingham, and August Booth confirmed to the town that the charges weren't valid. Killian was once again home with his beloved wife. Growing up an orphan had made him believe he would never have a family of his own. But now he has a wife he adores. Family and friends he never thought were possible. And, he was not the only one that found a family.

Killian and August were able to move past their issues. With Milah's death, Killian's brother was able to see past his anger and remorse set in. After realizing the depth of his treacherous behavior and making amends, he eventually found a surprising match with Tink.

Rufio was welcomed as an addition to the Jones crew. In fact, Captain Jones had taken Rufio under his wing and is teaching him how to sail.

Cora had found her way to Port Hook just in time to board the ship with Malcolm Peters. The two were never seen again. Then again, the ship never made another port.

Misthaven found a new Sheriff, one that was honorable, Captain Nemo. He'd fallen in love with the small town and never left.

Archie and Ingrid fell in love. Liam and Elsa moved to Misthaven and live a few houses from them. Graham too decided to give up his lonely life on the outskirts of Golden Cove and moved back to Misthaven. Eventually, his old friend Snow introduced him to the woman who would become his wife.

There's also one more addition that is coming in a few months…

Blonde hair dances in the salty sea wind. A small hand gently caresses a swollen belly. The woman's glowing smile gets bigger as she sees the sails of her beloved's ship fast approaching. "Your papa is home, little bean."

This is their happy beginning.

@hookedonapirate @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @seriouslyhooked@profdanglaisstuff @let-it-raines @revanmeetra87@snowbellewells@hollyethecurious@kymbersmith-90@branlovestowrite@thejollyroger-writer@shireness-says@ilovemesomekillianjones@thisonesatellite@thesschesthair@winterbythesea@stahlop@resident-of-storybrooke@superchocovian@lfh1226-linda@artistic-writer@thislassishooked@shardminds@winterbaby89@xhookswenchx@ultraluckycatnd@gingerchangeling@laschatzi@wellhellotragic@xemmaloveskillianx@courtorderedcake@pirateherokillian@optomisticgirl@darkcolinodonorgasm@sherlockianwhovian @andiirivera @djlbg @nikkiemms @jennjenn615 @scientificapricot @officerrogers @imlaxdris71 @therealstartraveller776 @kday426

#Captain Swan #CS Crew #teamhook SavageHeart #CS Mafia #cs ff

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inafieldofdaisies · 7 months

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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton and @direwombat

Checking-in with some more of John and Sabrina's AU: from Oliver and Leslie coming clean about their wrongdoings to John's no-so-pleasant introduction to his neighbors. Mwah.

Leslie watched Oliver rush in the division, headed towards his desk with conviction. "Fucker is more patient than expected.", he muttered and threw himself in one of the chairs across from him. "I still can't believe you went there to begin with." "I did it for you, and for her. We need to know who exactly we're dealing with." Leslie's eyes quickly darted to his, before returning to his computer screen, "Nothing comes up on him. He's clean." "You ran a check on him?", Oliver asked and gave him a mischievous smile, "You changed your mind, didn't you? You're not giving up on her." "Nothing like that.", the stern look didn't erase his wide grin, "You said it yourself, we need to know who we're dealing with." "Sure. Tell yourself that.", he gestured behind him, "Rina's on her way up, too. Though, with how he was looking at her like he was about to eat her and not his lunch, it might be a while." Leslie frowned at the absolutely unnecessary information, "I didn't ask." "I'm just debriefing you.", McKenzie shrugged innocently, "You don't like it… man up, Leslie, and do something to shift the tide." "Drop the idea. Better yet, drop the pirate puns." "Can't do. I'm loving playing wingman, but you might want to consider hazard pay for good old Ollie." Leslie scrunched his nose, "Do I even want to know?"

"Sat next to the guy, and you know how tiny Rue's booths are. Have to say, my instincts were screaming at me I might get stabbed at any moment. Fucked with him nonetheless. Even made him pay for my food." His eyes narrowed, "Didn't you just say he was patient?" "Patient. But a storm was brewing beneath it all. I can tell when I need to stop pushing, you know.", Oliver leaned back in his chair, locking his hands at the nape of his neck, "He sure almost broke character when I mentioned a three-way." "You-" "Absolutely did.", he appeared as if he was contemplating something, "Icky visuals to picture, between Rina and him looking like you… no offense. I feel like that threesome will scar me and not in a good way." Leslie snorted at the idea, "He doesn't look like me." "Leslie, do you own a mirror?" The door put an end to their argument about the looks of Sabrina's date. The two watched her silently make her way over to her desk, and her flushed cheeks made him question if Oliver had been right about her taking extra time bidding John goodbye. "Any deliveries for me?", she finally spoke up, leaning against her desk as she regarded them the same way she did with suspects. "Nope.", McKenzie retorted quickly, "You waiting on something, Rina? Did you do some late-night online shopping?" "John sent flowers." "He did?", Leslie made the mistake of joining the conversation. "Indeed. So you two just skip to the part where you tell me what happened to them."

"What a frivolous accusation.", Oliver chirped at the same time as Parish rolled away from his desk to pull out the waste bin and slide it over to her. "What?", Sabrina reached out to touch one one of the pitiful roses. "I threw it away." McKenzie swore under his breath at the unprompted confession. A confused frown marred her features, "Why, Leslie?" "Because it was disrespectful as hell." "I don't understand. He sent me flowers. Flowers, Leslie. Why would-" "Read the fucking card, Rina. Not only is he pompous and cliched as hell, but he has no damn shame either.", Oliver cut her off. Sabrina looked between him and the bouquet before reluctantly picking up the card laying on top. Leslie could tell exactly when she came to the realization, her lips forming a small 'oh' before she pursed them in disapproval, aimed at the wrong perpetrator. "Listen, I'm not shaming ya, you ride whoever you want to ride.", Oliver broke the silence again, "I don't give a fuck if he's a lawyer, a senator, hell, even my father, though my ma would take offense. But this,", he gestured to her hands holding the card, "is tacky. Frankly borderline criminal." "Guys.", a sigh, then she stopped. "What? Tell me you love the flowers. Come on. 100 roses or fuck knows how many, paired with that card. To your workplace. Romantic." "Ollie.", Leslie muttered under his breath, "That's enough." "I didn't…", she huffed, throwing the card at Oliver, "I didn't sleep with him."

He, in turn, opened the small piece of paper and presented it, finger tapping the writing on the inside for good measure, "'Thank you for last night.'" "I helped him with something.", she pointed at him, "And no, I'm not telling you after the shit you pulled at lunch. Hell, it's a miracle he still wants to go out again after being hit by hurricane Oliver." "I'm sorry.", the look aimed at him reeked of disbelief, "I truly am. But come on, you can't leave me hanging. I need more that 'I helped with something' to believe it's all innocent." "You're just going to keep pestering me the whole day until I tell you, aren't you?" McKenzie smirked, "Have we met? Damn right, I will." "No word about it. Promise me. Both of you." "We do. Spill.", he said quickly before Leslie even had a chance to respond. "A bat went into his hotel room while he was in the shower or something.", she let out a small laugh, "He called me, freaking out. I helped him to deal with the poor thing. No bats were harmed." Oliver tilted his head, "But can we say the same about his family jewels?" "Ollie." "What? You know they tend to dangle, hence why they'd look like a target…" "Gross." "Just an observation." "Les, any snarky comments from you? So we can move on from the subject." "Nope. Got nothing."

Sabrina cleared her throat, "The flowers are a 'thank you' for that." "I still don't like it.", Parish uttered out. "Of course you don't. You all won't approve of anyone I'd choose to go out with, not just John. Nobody would be good enough." "No. He doesn't have to be perfect.", it was his turn to point at the roses that were a thorn in his eye, no matter their true purpose, "First thing he does out in the open and he's overdoing it, sending you a bouquet you can't even hold without being hidden behind it. Did he even ask if you like roses?" "Roses are perfectly fine." "They sure aren't something you'd pick." "Doesn't matter. It's the gesture I care about. The fact that he thought of me." Oliver groaned at her excuse, "And the card? Can't tell me he didn't know it could be taken out of context." "He probably wanted to make me laugh.", she crossed her arms, fully set on believing she knew a man she just met, "You saw him at lunch. He's well-behaved, a gentleman. He paid for your food, for heaven's sake. He didn't have to." "Sure he is. You forgot weird from the list, by the way." "I like him, Ollie, strangeness included. And I don't want to argue with either of you, all because I went out on one date." Sabrina took a few steps forward until she was standing next to Leslie's desk and offered out both of her hands for each detective to take, "Understood?" Oliver was the first to react, faking a handshake, which made her smile, "Fine, fine. I still don't know what you see in Batman, especially with how much he looks like a slightly shrunken version of Leslie. You better hope nothing below the belt is-"

"Oliver, oh my f-" "He doesn't look anything like me.", Leslie cut in. "But…", McKenzie made a dramatic pause, "I will tolerate his existence." "Batman? You better not call him that to his face." He patter her hand, "No promises." "Les?", her eyes moved to Parish, noticing he had made no move to grab her hand. A few beats passed and he finally caved in. "Fine.", he muttered in defeat as he enveloped it in his, "As long as you're happy, I'm happy." Leslie did his hardest to avoid the pointed look Oliver tried to give him from across the desk, releasing her hand as he added, "We got a tip on Keats while you were at lunch. Right when you left. Seemed promising, but… nothing came out of it." "You went there? Why- why didn't you call me?", her voice rose at the potential of finally capturing a suspect in one of their older cases, "I told you-" "And ruin your date?" Sabrina rolled her eyes, "Oliver was already on that. You should have called." "I was not. Excuse me for going hungry and stopping at my favorite restaurant where you happened to be, too. Not my fault Batman can't handle another man's presence as he's trying to charm the pants off someone. Hell, he should have thanked me for making things more interesting.", Oliver rattled on. "Ollie." "Yeah?" "You were in his space, stealing his food… when you had your own."

"I was testing his generosity.", he argued, "If he can't share with me, how will he be with my goddaughter?" "What am I going to do with you…", she sighed in exasperation, "Now, enough of you trying to distract me and save Leslie from getting an earful about being reckless." "Don't stop at my expense, Rina. I'm waiting for the spanking, you know I love a good show." Leslie ignored his remarks, "It's not a big deal. All I got to see was an empty house." She sent a frown his way at the nonchalant tone he had used, "Doesn't matter. Wherever you go, I come, too. It's protocol." "I was in no danger whatsoever. Keats is half my size." "It's how you go shot last time, Leslie. Going off on your own. Or did you forget it altogether?" It was almost impossible to erase the memory, of thinking he was going to bleed to death after a suspect had blindsided him, only to be found by a good samaritan, passed out in a warehouse the middle of nowhere in a pool of his own blood. A miracle. He still carried the scar of the bullet that had almost taken his life. Had gotten a tattoo near it to remind himself he had pulled through, that he was still breathing. Sabrina knew it. "You weren't even here back then, Rina." "You-", her hazel eyes narrowed as she smacked his shoulder, "No stunts like that, swear it." "I promise." "Good. Because you're not dying on me, Parish.", she said with conviction before setting on trying to salvage whatever she could from the flowers, just as the phone on his desk rang with a new tip.

"So you would advise me against that?", Owen Montgomery asked for what felt like the hundredth time, causing John to pinch the bridge of his nose as he pushed his simmering frustration down. "That's exactly what I said, Owen." "But-", the man started again and he interrupted him before he could slip into another useless deviation from the issue at hand, from the fact he was close to ending up with nothing as settlement. "Do you want to live in a one-bedroom apartment in the bad side of town?", John asked flatly, "Because that would happen if you go against the prenuptial agreement." Owen let out a string of curses, directed at his soon to be ex-wife. "The settlement is more than generous.", he reminded his client, "You wanted the divorce, you either accept what she's willing to give you or find a way to convince her to be more lenient on your own." John doubted the latter was possible, considering the Mrs. Montgomery had a team of lawyers that communicated with Owen on her behalf after she had cut off all contact with her husband. "I-", he stopped himself, silence taking over his side. "Are we clear?" Owen sighed, "Yeah. Thank you, I guess." He hung up with that without sparing any pleasantries. In a way, John could blame his wife for the way she was responding to the divorce proceedings, considering he was not only leaving her for another woman, but also trying to start anew with her hard earned money. Owen Montgomery was what could be considered a nightmare client. Always making demands, not once stopping to consider how outrageous they would get.

After parting ways with Sabrina, John had returned to his hotel, successfully avoiding any encounters with Candice Donovan. He rolled his shoulders and leaned back in his chair, feeling some of the tension that had accumulated thanks to sitting at the small desk for a couple of hours and going over various clients' complaints. If the amount of calls Penny had transferred straight to him was any indicator, she probably hadn't exactly bothered to clear out his schedule either. At some point into his second phone call, he had moved from loosening his tie to fully removing it. He felt like he could breathe easier with a couple of buttons of his shirt undone and was glad he wasn't dealing with his clients face to face after so soon after having to tolerate Oliver. The fact his PA seemed to only do the bare minimum of her duties wasn't helping matters.

Once he had taken care of everything that needed to be addressed immediately, John settled for staying in again and ordering room service after taking a quick freezing shower. Instead of reaching for a towel like he usually did, he grabbed one of the bathrobes hanging in the bathroom as shivers racked his body. His food felt mediocre at best, giving him a sense of chewing rubber and not a meal served at a 5-star hotel. As much as he tried to convince himself otherwise, he was miserable. Disappointed there was no laughter to fill the silence that weighted him down as the hours dragged by slower than usual. Annoyed that Sabrina wasn't there and he was stuck replaying their previous conversations in his head. The fuck is wrong with me? He couldn't figure out why he couldn't stop thinking about the slice of chocolate pie they would have been sharing had Oliver not been at lunch. I miss her? Is that it? That was what he mulled over as he walked to his bed and lay down on his back, enveloped by the soft robe. "At least there's no bats flying around.", he muttered out loud, staring at the white ceiling above him, "It could be far worse." Minutes later, he began regretting his words after getting his first clue in how thin the walls between rooms must have been. It all had started innocently enough, with a female's muffled moan that had made him raise an eyebrow.

"More. Yes. YES.", the sound of the headboard banging against the wall carried over as the woman continued switching between languages and shouting out orders at her bed partner. John had lost count how many times she had praised the man's cock in size, he was questioning if she had ever seen a ruler in her life. If she could even begin to realize how ridiculous her comparisons sounded in reality. If I hear another outrageous metaphor, I swear to God- The woman switched to French again, her voice raising even more, joined by the man's grunts. "I hope you've left your window open, and a bat chooses to visit you, too.", John gritted out as he picked up the hotel phone and dialed reception. "Yes, Mr. Duncan?", a female's voice sounded on the other line. "I'm calling to raise a noise complaint. A couple in room 310 have been causing continuous disturbance." "I'm so sorry to hear that. I will call their room, and sort it out immediately." "Thank you." True to her words, he could guess the exact moment the call was made because all of the noises stopped suddenly. "Sweet silence. Thank God.", John muttered with a satisfied grin, and closed his eyes as he snuggled into his pillow. Yet the peace didn't last long, with the two next door slipping back into their previous activities despite the warning from the front desk. "For heaven's sake.", he shouted and it somehow wasn't loud enough to match the woman's screeches that sounded more like a wounded animal, than somebody enjoying themselves.

As more muffled profanities left her mouth, he reached for the receiver again and dialed reception again. "Yes, Mr. Duncan?" "The issue hasn't been resolved.", he said darkly. "I was assured they would keep it down, sir. I'm not at liberty to do anything aside from calling again." "Call the police for all I care. Just shut them up." "Sir,", the woman sighed, "The window for noise disturbances is from 10 pm to 7 am, I'm afraid-" "Remind me again how many stars does your hotel have?", he interrupted the poor excuse. "I will place another call."

After multiple calls later and the wretched noises persisting, John began to wonder if this was a new form of torture Portland had selected for him. Karma. He almost wished he was back in the diner and forced to listen to random stories from Oliver. Where some would most likely find enjoyment in overhearing a couple in the heat of the moment, he could safely say the prolonged show they were giving the hotel wasn't doing anything for him aside from reminding him he didn't have anyone in his bed, that the only thing keeping him company were his fantasies of her. Then as the sky had already darkened and he was considering throwing on some clothes and just leaving the hotel altogether before he would do anything drastic with his anger raising anytime the headboard would slam on the other side of his wall, his phone rang. He accepted the call, doubting Sabrina's voice would cancel the couple's latest role-playing round. "Hey.", she wore a content smile, her overall demeanor the opposite of what he was feeling at that moment. "Hey.", he forced himself to return her grin, but guessed it hadn't worked if he was to judge by the frown she gave him. "What's wrong?" "This,", he said as he rose up in bed and brought the phone closer to the adjoining wall between the two rooms. "Is that-", she paused, blinking quickly at the array of noises that carried over.

"Yes. They're, excuse my French,", he let out a humorless chuckle at the accidental pun, "fucking. Have been for hours, Detective." Sabrina winced visibly and bit her lip, "And the hotel isn't doing anything?" "I called reception to deal with them multiple times, it's like they're taking my complaints as encouragement." "Jesus." "She's been trying to summon him for a while now." A laugh broke free before she quickly said, "I'm sorry." "Don't be… I can imagine how amusing it could be from an outsider perspective. Me on the other hand… I'm contemplating spending my night in the bathroom." He rubbed at his eye, feeling a headache forming, "I'm close to just going out, and I have no idea where I would even go." "John." "Yeah?" She looked torn, almost like she was unsure if she should voice whatever was on her mind. "Now you're worrying me.", he remarked at her furrowed eyebrows. "I'm thinking." He cracked a small smile, "I see that." The woman in 310 began chanting, making him squeeze his eyes shut as he told reminded himself he needed to remain calm. Monday can't come quickly enough. What I wouldn't do for the universe to stop hating me and grant me a plane ticket before Friday. "Have to say, I'm jealous - I certainly can't hear my own thoughts.", he uttered out, raking a hand through his hair. "John.", she repeated his name, making him crack his eyes open at the shift in her tone.

"What is it?" "Did you have dinner yet?", her question took him aback considering the more pressing issue he was faced with. "No.", he lied with ease, gaze darting to his half-finished plate, to his meal that had no doubt turned cold after being becoming long forgotten thanks to his lack of appetite paired with the neighbors' antics. She nodded but didn't elaborate further. "Why did you ask?", he pushed for an answer, his curiosity fully awaken. "It's probably a weird thing to suggest after we just had lunch." Now you have my full attention. "Weirder than her,", he titled his head at the wall behind him, "comparing her lover's moves to a sledge hammer? Both in English, and French?" A hand covered her mouth as she tried to stop a giggle from emerging. "It's okay to laugh, you know. At least something comes out of my misery then." "You could always march over there and threaten to sue them for harassment… Your poor ears would thank you." "Don't tempt me. Because we might end up with a different situation on our hands." She raised an eyebrow, "Them asking you to join?", all he could do was blink as she laughed quietly, "Kidding. Oliver isn't rubbing off on me, I promise." Chances are things would be getting physical in a different way. "Frankly, I won't be shocked.", he leaned his head on his head, willing for the throbbing at his temples to reside, "Back to the subject at hand - what were you going to suggest?"

Her eyes darted away from his as she looked down, her unease on full display, "Forget I said anything, it's stupid." "Impossible.", he retorted, "I highly doubt whatever it is is more embarrassing than me hiding away from a bat and calling you in the middle of the night. So, try me." Her cheeky smile made a return, "You forgot the naked part." "Trust me, I haven't forgotten. And I'm listening, as much as I can, really." The woman in the other room was back to shouting profanities in French, making him sigh in defeat. "I-", Sabrina cleared her throat, getting a couple of words out before she could change her mind, "I have some leftovers from dinner and since you haven't eaten yet…" Leftovers? His lips quirked up, "Are you asking me to come over?", the unintended innuendo behind his question caused her to frown, so he rushed to add, "I know you don't mean it that way." He was back to gesturing at the wall separating him from all the action happening next door. Her face relaxed at his words, "I am. Yes. But if you think it's too weird…" "Sabrina?" "Yeah?" "Offering to spare me having to listen to them fornicate,", he couldn't help his snarl as the man moved into grunting out lines from his usual repertoire, "isn't weird. I'd call it generous as hell." He was fully preparing himself to slip into an argument how he hated ear plugs, before moving onto invalidating any other simpler solution that stood between him and seeing her again, when she nodded, "Should I text you the address?" The second she asked that, his heart began to thump almost as loud as the couple's bed, causing him to rub his chest through the robe as he mumbled a quiet, "Yes." "Okay." He matched her smile, "See you in a few, then."

Tagging, @josephseedismyfather @adelaidedrubman @poisonedtruth @theelderhazelnut @madparadoxum @cassietrn @corvosattano @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @aceghosts @direwombat @strangefable @dumbassdep @euryalex @purplehairsecretlair @voidika @simplegenius042 @thesingularityseries @the-silver-chronicles @nightbloodbix @clicheantagonist @harmonyowl @wrathfulrook @jillvalentinesday and anyone that would like to share something <3

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inafieldofdaisies · 5 months

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Character/Ship Moodboard | John Duncan, John x Sabrina | A Trial of Errors, AU (vol. 1)

“Lips of honey, eyes of fire.”

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inafieldofdaisies · 8 months

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Ship Edit | The Diviner and The Baptist | vol. 1 / vol. 2 / vol. 3 / vol. 4 / vol. 5 | AU: A trial of errors

"You look beautiful.", he whispered as his eyes met hers in the mirror. "And I think you're confused, Counsel, seeing how you're in the ladies' room." "We both know that's far from the most embarrassing predicament I've found myself in in the recent months."

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inafieldofdaisies · 6 months

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"Did you see me doing it?" Sabrina tried to free her hand, but he held on. The determined look in his eyes told her he wouldn't drop the subject. "Yes. Happy? Can we go now?" Despite giving him an answer, he still didn't unwrap his fingers from around her wrist, asking with curiosity, "When? In a vision?" "No.", she gritted out, "Let go." "Just tell me, Sabrina." "When we land." "Do you promise?" "You will have to wait and see." His hand let go of her wrist, and in the same second, he interwined their fingers together, pulling her along, "Come on, then, Deputy. Don't waste time now." "Giddy bastard.", she muttered quietly at his back. "I heard that, too." He strode towards the small plane like a man on a mission. Knowledge… Secrets… It's what drives you, indeed.

In Hope of Tomorrow

"You look beautiful.", John whispered as his eyes met hers in the mirror. "And I think you're confused, Counsel, seeing how you're in the ladies' room." "We both know that's far from the most embarrassing predicament I've found myself in in the recent months." As he said that he advanced forward, and his hands landed on both sides of the counter, stopping her from retreating too soon. Chances were she would have made an escape before he was done with their conversation and finding out where they actually stood. She wore the same daring expression she did during the direct examination, one she aimed his way anytime she wasn't addressing the jury or his opponent, "You consider potential disbarment for misconduct an embarrassing predicament? You could lose all you've worked for, I'm actually serious about this." He couldn't help the smirk that emerged at her challenge and the fact she still cared for him on some level, "Keyword: potential. And I've decided it's worth the risk."

A Trial of Errors, John x Sabrina AU

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inafieldofdaisies · 6 months

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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat

This Wednesday we have more of John's misadventures from his and Sabrina's AU as a treat. Starting up with a little snippet involving her mother, then moving onto his arrival for an impromptu dinner. Don't ask what happens inbetween to rattle the gremlin, that bit is still under construction.

Upon the call's end, John dropped his phone on the bed, finding himself unable to wipe off the grin that had taken over his face despite the noises next door continuing, and that only grew wider at the new message notification as he finally took out his newly purchased clothes from the bags he had spent a good while ignoring. "Wearing the suit from today again is out of the question.", he reasoned to himself while laying down pieces of clothing on his bed. He wasn't one to women's houses for 'dinner'. Hell, he usually avoided invitations like those like the plague, choosing to spend the night in a neutral place for both parties instead. His current predicament was definitely throwing him for a loop, especially since he had no idea what she'd greet him in. The thought Sabrina might not even have been asking him over for food made him forget the task at hand for a beat. "No. She insisted it's not like that. But what if… what if it is?", his eyes narrowed at the wicked possibility just when something crashed loudly in 310, putting an end to his embarrassingly long attempt at deciding what to wear, "Focus. And you can't sleep with her anyway, Duncan." The last part came off in a tone matching Clive's, yet the reminder did little to banish the desire within him. He settled for a dark gray wool suit and quickly decided to forego the matching vest and tie to go with them. Underneath, he threw on a simple dress shirt with a couple of buttons unbuttoned at the top since he still felt he could breathe easier without anything snaking around his neck like his father's iron grip from the olden days. "Don't think of them. It just makes you feel worse after.", John hated how his voice shook as he regarded himself in the bathroom mirror and did his best to focus on styling his hair in place instead of entertaining memories that belonged in the past.

"You're twisted, wrong. But we can fix it. You won't turn into a disappointment, John.", the words materialized on their own, a deafening cacophony of his parents voices that threatened to hang over him as a dark cloud. He slammed the bathroom door, set on leaving them back there to keep company on the persisting grunts of his neighbors, refusing to let anything ruin whatever his night with Sabrina would bring. On his way out, he grabbed his coat and came to an abrupt halt at the heels sounding in the hallway as he anticipated an unpleasant run-in with a certain redhead. When both the silence aside from the couple's usual noises and a look through the peephole hinted at the coast being clear for him to make his escape, he promptly exited his room and for once luck seemed to be on his side with the elevator remaining empty. The ride down to the lobby seemed to last an eternity and the second the doors opened, he was greeted by another unpleasant sight: the brunette that had checked him in on his first night was deep in animated conversation with another employee, both appearing completely oblivious to his approach as she let out a sigh after saying way too loudly, "He called to complaing about the noise like dozen times. I don't know what he expected me to do, and I swear, Lucas, anytime 310 would pick up, they were still doing it while talking to me." "Shit.", the man whispered before asking, "When are they checking out? Do you think it maybe turns them on to have an audience?" "I don't know. But I'm not paid enough for any of this. Let alone being forced to listen to a man half-talking, half-moaning over the phone. I've never wanted to hang up more." "Want me to go get you something sweet?", a hand grasped hers, and she finally cracked a smile at the suggestion. "At least I have you here." John shook his head at the display of affection and blantant discussion of guests out in the open, drawing closer to the two and clearing his throat to grab their attention.

The gleam in the receptionist's eyes evaporated when they moved to his and she quickly shook off her collegue's hold, smile dropping for a second before she forced it again. "Good evening, Mr. Duncan", the name made the man spin around and echo her greeting with narrowed gaze. "I will be right back, Jules." She nodded despite looking like she wanted anything but for him to leave all of a sudden. "Good evening.", John muttered evenly as he leaned against the reception desk. "Is 310 still giving you trouble? I'm really sorry about-" "Yes. For two hours now, miss.", he cut off her apology, "But I'm not here because of that." If he didn't have other plans, John's next course of action would have been to ruin her night like his had been, especially after the way nothing had actually been done to ensure the noises from the room next to his would cease. Not to mention gossiping about me to your colleague. Still, for once he pushed down the urge to put someone in their place with Penny's drunken call fresh on his mind, trying to imagine how Sabrina would take on the situation. With kindness, most certainly.

His words seemed to put her at ease a little, "Oh, I truly am sorry to hear that, sir. How can I assist you then?" "I need you to call a car for me." She reached for one of the hotel phones, "Cab or personal driver?" "Whatever would get here faster." She nodded and dialed a number, talking in a hushed voice into the receiver as his baby blues shifted to the hotel's entrance, giddiness making his body feel lighter. "30 minutes for a driver, sir. Would you like me to call you a cab in that case?", the news were a proverbial cold shower to the desire he felt at the thoughts of Sabrina, and he took a deep breath before facing the woman as she held the phone to her ear, clearly waiting for his answer. "I-" "Mr. Duncan.", heels sounded behind him before Candice Donovan was at his side, standing way too close for his liking. If he had to guess she was doing a little observing on her own, just like he had done minutes prior. "A cab.", he replied hurriedly, before turning to her and mirroring her smile, taking note of the expression she wore even better than the no doubt expensive dress that peeked through her unbuttoned coat. He had no doubt what it harbored. Intent to strike. "Nonsense, darling.", a hand landed on his forearm when she addressed the woman across them, "Julie, no cab would be needed." "I'm-" "My driver is waiting out front, Mr. Duncan. I will be more than happy to drop you off wherever you need to be.", her sweeter than honey tone put him on edge. "I appreaciate the suggestion, but-" She cocked her head, "I don't bite, Mr. Duncan. It's a simple gesture for a collegue." There's nothing simple or innocent about this 'gesture'. Yet accepting her offer meant getting to Sabrina faster and not having to climb into a cab and potentially get into more trouble on his way. Her arm wrapped around his elbow, pulling him towards the exit as the receptionist muttered a quiet, "Have a great evening." Candice released her hold the second they were on the curb, slipping into the backseat of her car when John pulled open the door for her in place of her driver and silently cursed the manners instilled into him. Don't do it. "You coming, darling?", she questioned with a smirk and despite all of his instincts warning him how bad of an idea it was, he climbed in, too, putting as much distance as he could between them. "Reginald, we will be making a stop on the way. Where are you headed, Mr. Duncan?"

[John's] hand rapped on the door, heartbeat picking up again when he heard footsteps approaching and it swung open. "Hey.", Sabrina uttered out with a smile and he wasted no time in crossing over the threshold and wrapping his arms around her. He pulled her in his embrace, face burying in her soft hair as her scent invaded his senses. "John?", she asked in confusion, amusement instead of alarm coloring her tone at the brazen greeting, "Are you okay?" "I had the worst night imaginable… just humor me for a second. Then you can tell me how strange it is." Her hands that had stayed by her side to that moment gingerly encircled his waist, "I was starting to wonder if something had come up or maybe that you had decided to ghost me." No matter that he knew the hug was dragging for far too long, he couldn't bring himself to let go, until she spoke up again, "John? I'm kind of freezing here." Her words were his wake up call, eyes swooping over her form, the denim shorts, top and thin knitted oversized cardigan she wore as she wrapped her hands around herself. "Sorry.", he muttered before moving out of the way so she could shut the door and stop the cold from entering the house further. He watched her head down the hallway as he remained glued to the spot, feeling absolutely out of place and realizing he had, in fact, overdressed.

"You gonna stand by the front door the whole night?", she asked quietly, eyes shining with mischief. "No. Of course not.", her bare feet and shoes lined on a rack at the entrance told him he was expected to take his off, too. Her attention remained on him, making him worry he was fumbling with something as simple as that, and she was seeing through his poised act and how nervous he felt deep down. Get yourself together. He quickly stored his loafers by the door, deciding it would be too far to put them among her own, then shed his coat and threw it over his arm. Silently, he followed her deeper into the house, the same way he had at her precinct, and just like back then, her oversized cardigan did its hardest to conceal his view. The first thing to hit him about the living room, he found himself entering, was how it felt like a home, not the sterile spaces he had grown up in where everything had been for show, but meaninglessness if you glaced at it for too long. "Is it what you expected?", Sabrina asked, taking note of how he was looking around. "I-", he hesitated, not really having thought of what her home might look like, instead, his mind had been preoccupied with other less innocent things, "It's lovely." "Sit.", she pulled out one of the chairs at the dining table before disappearing into what he assumed was the kitchen. He slipped into the seat after placing his coat over the back of one of the empty chairs.

"Now, I know it's not fine dining.", there was uncertainty in her gaze when she rounded the table with a dish in hand, "But-" "I didn't come for fine dining, Detective. As long as Oliver doesn't jump out from behind the couch, I'm happy." He meant it completely and even more when she placed his dinner in front of him, his mouth watering despite the fact he had eaten already. "I was worried I would have to reheat them twice." "Sorry." She grinned, "Don't be. I just wanted to make a good first impression. Wine or are we behaving tonight?" He suspected he would probably feel tempted to agree to drinking poison if she asked with the same gleam in her eyes, "I could use a drink." She returned shortly with a bottle of red and two glasses, and before she could pour it, he got up, "Let me." "You're the guest-" Her argument was cut short when his fingers brushed hers, and he grabbed the wine, pouring a glass for her first, then for himself before sitting back down across from her. "To-", he paused as he raised his hand in a toast, "saving me from having to listen to whatever performance they had prepared for me as encore back at the hotel." Sabrina let out a laugh and clicked her glass to his, "Think they're still going at it?" "I'm not a betting man, but I would certainly bet on that." "That's some stamina, I'd give them that." "That's one one to look at it." "And you're a patient man.", she added after taking a sip from her wine. Not exactly.

She propped her head on her hand, focusing on him as he picked up his fork and took a first bite from what she had deemed "leftovers". The sautéed potato melting on his tongue with flavor that resulted in an embarrassing noise of satisfaction escaping him. "It's-" "Cold? Did it get cold?", her frown was another level of adorable. "Better than fine dining." She huffed, "You're pulling my leg now." "I'm not." The look on her face told him she wasn't buying the genuine compliment. "I mean it. The company is even better." He wasn't holding back by then, trying to blame his bluntness on the wine when he had barely taken a sip himself. "Right back at you, Mr. Duncan.", her smile was intoxicating enough by itself, he realized. Her fingers breezed over the stem of her wine glass, lashes fluttering before she added, "I got the flowers." His lips twisted into a smirk, yet something in her tone piqued his interest more, he took his time working on next bite then asked, "Did you like them?" "They were beautiful, but John," "Yes?" Her eyes rose up from her glass to his, "It was too much." "Nonsense."

"I hardly did anything to warrant you sending me a giant bouquet like that." "You stayed on the phone while a bat made an attempt on my life. Sending you flowers was the least I could do." She quirked up a smile, "A kill attempt? A tad bit extreme." "Not if you were there." "I did for a second wish to be a fly on the wall, not gonna lie." Her words made him shift in his seat, especially with the knowledge they wouldn't have been facing a bat issue had she been there, instead probably giving his neighbors a show of their own. "What did you do last night before I called?", the question left his mouth before he could shove more food into it. She laced her fingers together and bit her lip in contemplation, muttering nonchalantly, "Be good, and I might show you after dinner." Fuck. Don't go there, brain. It was too late, his mind drank her words like a starving man. Her playful grin didn't help the situation as John blinked slowly and did his best to keep his composure in check while on the inside he pictured taking her right then and there on the table, "It's nothing spectacular, so don't go expecting too much." You're killing me here. "Detective." "Mmm?" "I look forward to it.", his voice dipped, and she appeared completely oblivious to the effect her words had on him as she took a sip of her wine. More than you could ever imagine.

He finished his meal in record time while Sabrina swooped into telling him how excited she was about finally getting a development in one of her cases without actually revealing any sensitive information. As she did that, it took him a minute to remember he wasn't casing a witness and looking for weak links or potential violations of code of conduct. At least not yet. Her features lit up differently when she talked about her work, all of her emotions and dedication shining through. With nothing to keep him distracted, he eventually reached across the table and grabbed her hand, thumb caressing the inside of her wrist where her pulse picked up in a similar pace to his own heart. "Desert?", she asked slowly, adding more fuel to his desire. I'd take you. Gladly. Thankfully, he didn't say that, instead replying a simple, "What do you have in mind?" "I stopped by the diner again after work. Sav loves their chocolate pies, so I got us some. I know I told you how delicious they are, and then Ollie stole the only slice left…" "I'd love that." She nodded and rose up quickly, gathering his empty plate on her way out, "Be right back." John felt glad she hadn't asked for him to follow her because his pants were growing tighter by the minute in her presence to the point he was trying to picture himself in the freezing shower back at his hotel in place of all the fantasies plaguing him currently. So far, he was failing miserably. Sabrina reappeared next to him, startling him a little, "Your pie, Mr. Duncan. With a tiny delay." She placed a piece of the pie whose taste he had been trying to picture throughout the day after the show Oliver had made out of eating it. "And you?" "Me?" "Where's yours?" She shook her head as the realization hit him, "There's only this slice, all yours, Mr. Duncan. I've had it plenty of times."

Of course you're giving me your desert. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist when she made a move to retreat to her seat, "Sit here instead." Hazel eyes darted from him to the chair next to his, and after a few beats, she complied. He dropped his hold on her arm to lift up the fork and gather a bite of the pie, bringing it up to her mouth first, "We're splitting it then, it's only fair." Her lips parted to accept his offering, the way they closed around the cutlery haunting him as he scooped some of the desert for himself next. Truly killing me here, Detective. The chocolate, whipped cream, and mousse tasted even sweeter, making him wonder if somewhere inbetween he was picking up on her own taste, too. "I will grab another fork.", she muttered, and before she had the chance to get up, he lifted his hand to her mouth with another serving. "We can share this one." His worry about taking things too far was short-lived when she let him feed her again. "Delicious, right?", her tongue absently breezed over her bottom lip when he took a bite. "Absolutely." The next time he brought the fork to her mouth and she licked at the whipped cream left upon the cutlery's retreat, he completely forgot about taking a bite for himself. His intrusive thoughts took over, the fork cluttering against the plate as he dropped it to grasp her cheek. "Remember that kiss from earlier, Sabrina…"

The look she gave him was a knowing one before nodding quickly. He didn't have to be told twice, leaning in closer to cover her mouth with his. The kiss began innocent enough with his lips moving at a slower pace over hers, testing the waters until he couldn't hold back any longer. Not with how sweet she tasted - far better than the goddamned pie on its own. Or the way she let out a sigh of content and kissed him back. His tongue used the first presented opportunity to sneak in, setting on exploring her mouth before meeting her own. Slow down. His hands had other ideas as one of them hoisted her by the waist until she was out of her chair and onto his lap while the other angled her face to deepen the kiss. Her fingers traveled up his arms until they came to rest on his shoulders, and she seemed just as lost in the sensation and dance their tongues had slipped into. Until she pulled back as if finally remembering herself. "John.", his name was a whisper when she leaned her forehead against his, sounding as breathless as he felt while his heart carried on the reoccurring faster rhythm. Go ahead. Ask me… I'd take you to bed, Clive, Mooney, anyone be damned. He waited for the anticipated question to come as they remained in their position until a phone decided to ruin the mood. Sadly, not his. Otherwise, he would have thrown the pesky device across the room, not caring who had decided to call, or if it would survive the flight.

"Tell me you're going to let it go to voicemail.", he said against her lips before diving in for another kiss while the ringing persisted. Whoever had chosen the worst moment to require something for her, was dead set on reaching her. "I can't.", she broke their liplock and gave him an apologetic look, "It might be important." Sabrina clambered off his lap and rushed out of the living room as she pulled her phone out of her cardigan. "I will be right back.", she called out quietly before greeting the person on the other line. Minutes ticked by, the tingling in his lips fading away while he sat at the dining table with his gaze pointed at the kitchen doorway, hoping she'd reappear and pick up where they had left off. Eventually, he got up and walked over to the unlit fireplace, taking the opportunity to take a closer look at the photographs she had on the build-in shelf above it. A dimly lit group shot of Sabrina squished between what he guessed were fellow Detectives at her presinct, if Oliver's presence was anything to go by. The man from her phone homescreen was among the unfamiliar faces and had his hand over her shoulder, the look he wore leaving a bad taste in John's mouth. He forced his attention to a different frame - her and presumably her sister smiling brightly at the camera with an impressive lake surrounded by pines behind them. Another vacation shot stood next to it - a photograph of a young, dark-haired girl hugging a man, the gray in his hairline matching Sabrina's. "Sorry.", she mumbled as she came to stand by John's side, having sneaked up on him yet again, "I'm the worst host." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye as he returned the frame he had picked off from the shelf. "Nonsense. I was keeping myself occupied." "I can see that."

"Your father?", he guessed as he nodded at the picture in front of him, noting the absense of her mother. "Yeah.", the way she hugged herself made him think he should have picked a different question, the fact she offered nothing more just cemented the theory. "Everything okay with the call?" She nodded, "Yeah." God. That word again. The moment is totally gone, isn't it? He turned to face her fully, "It's getting late… I should probably get going, Detective." It was the last thing he actually wanted to do, but the call had inevitably broken the spell between them, leaving an air of awkwardnes to lurk around. Sabrina shifted her weight from one foot to the other, seeming uncertain at the announcement, "Oh, okay." Yet, instead of marching over to the table and grabbing his coat then wishing her goodbye, he took a step forward, his hand grasping hers, "Do you want me to?" Her gaze searched his face, and he held his breath as he waited for her answer, "Not really. No." "Really?", the corner of his mouth quirked up, pride taking over at the fact he had read her correctly and he still had a chance. "I mean, I assume you plan on grabbing a cab to your hotel?", he nodded, so she continued, "And there's no guarantee your lovely neighbors won't be continuing with their shenanigans in the early hours, especially with what you told me…"

He bit back a smirk at her explanation, seeing clearly how she was trying her best to explain her reasoning behind whatever she had on her mind, when he would have all the right to complain if 310 were still going at it upon his return. "It's probably too forward. Hell, it's definitely too forward. But I was going to offer you to stay here, I would be less concerned, especially with your track record." "You're worried about me?", another step brought him closer to her. "About you getting back in one piece after dragging you across town to see me. I was confident you would be just fine at your hotel yesterday, and then the bat happened." "Ask me.", he whispered as the air around them grew heavy, excitement coursing through his body. "You could stay here… if you want.", Sabrina tip-toed over asking him plainly. Close enough. "Are you going to make me sleep on the floor?", he pushed further, the worry he had been too direct dissipating when she smiled at the remark to her previous joke about her "harem" of men. You certainly have enough potential candidates in the photo. "Nope. As long as you behave yourself and don't get my house infested with critters." A smirk broke free, "The couch?"

"I was going to offer you the guest room, Mr. Duncan. It would be gentler on your back. Just on one condition…" Her smile was quickly pushing through all the conviction he had for holding himself back, pulling him in. He chuckled as he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, "Yes?" "You have to promise me to take no legal action for anything potentially going wrong while you're residing on the premises." His eyebrows shot up in surprise, "You really are worried." "Can you blame me?" "Absolutely not." "I will need it in writing, by the way…" John groaned, "Sabrina." "Kidding." "I promise.", his face drew closer to hers until their lips were almost touching, "As long as you promise you'd come to my rescue again if needed. Civilian status and all that." Before she had the chance to respond, his mouth descended on hers while he pulled her into him by the belt loop of her pants. Her hands locked around his neck, slipping into his hair and setting on undoing all the efforts and time he had put into styling it as their lips fought to prevail over the other. John kept his fingers from working on taking off her clothes the way "that wicked side" of him beckoned them to do. Patience. Or you'd actually sleep on the floor or worse, she'd change her mind completely. He doubted the usual methods would work, reminding himself he wasn't threading in familiar waters, that she didn't exactly fit in the category of women he usually dated. This time around, it was him who broke the kiss, stroking her cheek while he backed away a little, enough to gaze into her eyes. Self-control. You have it somewhere within yourself, Duncan. "How can I refuse to help after that?", Sabrina said with another smile, skin flushed where his beard had rubbed against it. "I'm torn if perhaps I should wish for trouble now." "Hilarious.", she smoothed a hand down his suit jacket, "Come then." She aimed for another doorway across the kitchen just as he returned to the table and pulled a pen out of his coat's inner pocket, scribbling away at his unused napkin from dinner. "John?", she noticed he wasn't following and moved behind him in attempt to take a peek over his shoulder. "Almost done." "What are you-" He slid the napkin and pen over to her with a smirk, "All you need to do is sign on the dotted line and the contract would be in place." Her eyes scanned his make-shift agreement before she let out a laugh, "I truly was joking."

Tagging, @adelaidedrubman @strangefable @florbelles @unholymilf @corvosattano @onehornedbeast @jillvalentinesday @voidika @nightbloodbix @quantum-lover @wrathfulrook @trench-rot @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @cassietrn @theelderhazelnut @harmonyowl @thesingularityseries @the-silver-chronicles @simplegenius042 @purplehairsecretlair @dumbassdep @g0dspeeed

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inafieldofdaisies · 7 months

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WIP Whenever | Tagged by @josephseedismyfather and @jillvalentinesday

This week we're taking a look at John and Sabrina's first date in their AU and Oliver crashing it in style.

John stared at the neon sign spelling "Rue's" before he passed through the door of the small diner Sabrina had suggested they meet at a couple of minutes prior. With its 50s themed interior, the place was close to her precinct and as far as possible from the usual spots he ended up eating at. To think of it… he couldn't even the remember the last time he had been in a diner. If ever. Who cares if I feel out of my element? He refused to dwell on the uncertainty as his eyes scanned the restaurant, quickly skipping over the patrons that sat at the long sit-down counter and moving to the dark brown booths on the far right. John couldn't stop a smile from emerging the moment his gaze came to rest on her, and she raised her hand in a wave. His feet moved on their own as excitement at finally seeing her in person climbed up his spine. "Sabrina.", he uttered out in a greeting when he reached her. "Hey, yourself." His heart did another concerning flip at the grin she paired the words with. I'm going for a check-up once I'm back in Atlanta.

He slipped off his coat, smoothing down his navy colored suit jacket before he took the seat across from her. "I haven't ordered yet, naturally.", she pushed a menu over to him, "I kind of know the menu by heart, so if you have any questions about what's good, shoot." "Thank you.", he flipped it open, slowly scanning over each page when he felt her fingers run over his forehead. "What happened?", concern seeping into her tone while her touch heated his skin, making him wonder how it would feel all over his body. If she would think the same about his. His eyes shot up to hers for a second, trying to figure out what had prompted her to invade his personal space for once. "Did the bat do it?", his visible confusion making her add, "The scratch, I mean." Her hand retreated and he brought up his own up to the spot she had pointed out, feeling nothing beneath his fingertips, the dull pain long gone. "No, no.", he shook his head, "It didn't touch me. Thanks to you." She beamed at that, most likely thinking back to the embarrassing situation, "Then who scratched you, Mr. Duncan? Any other women I should know about?" His lips formed a smirk at her words, "If you count an angry bride throwing her bouquet at me after she mistaked me for her runaway groom…" "A bride you say?", she quirked an eyebrow, "Portland strikes again." "Yes." "So…", she pulled his thoughts away from leaning over the table and kissing her, "See anything you like, yet." Fuck. You have no idea.

He kept his face passive despite how his pants were feeling tighter by the minute, "What would you recommend?" "You don't strike me as a burger guy…", Sabrina paused, "How about the heddar-topped barbecue meat loaf? It has vegetables and potatoes on the side." He nodded, encouraging her to continue as he closed the menu, "For me… I was thinking stuffed hash browns with sour cream. Oh, and their chocolate pie is to die for. One piece of it afterwards, for sure." "Sounds good.", he leaned back against the booth, wondering if he was sticking out like a sore thumb when a waitress made her way to them at Sabrina's signal. "Hey, Sal. We're ready to order." "Neat.", the woman with a name tag "Sally" pulled a pad from her apron before sending a strange look towards him, "I almost mistook him for Les, Rina. I was gonna ask if he had been called to court or something." The remark made Sabrina laugh, "No, he's staying behind today." "Gotcha." She quickly recited their order to Sally, adding a water for him and, much to John's suprise, a milkshake for her, and soon enough they were back on their own.

Oliver observed Sabrina and John from his seat at the far end of the counter at Rue's, successfully blending in with the lunch crowd around him as his frown deepened at the sight he was witnessing. It's like I'm an extra in a rom-com, goddamn it.Her occasional laughter carrying over every so often made him feel glad he hadn't dragged Leslie with him, knowing the sight would break his heart. The two meeting in one of the usual dining spots their team frequented for meals would have added even more salt to the wound, especially since she and Leslie had no doubt found themselves in that very booth before, only under different circumstances. He hadn't placed an order yet, waiting for his opening, for the perfect moment to unleash chaos on the unsuspecting fucker, take on the role of chaperone. The second John leaned in over the table, thumb running over her lips in a move that should have been criminal with its predictability, he sprang into action. I should arrest you for that alone and stop you from embarrassing yourself further. Long strides ate up the distance between the three of them, and whatever the schmuck was saying had Sabrina so enamored she didn't even notice McKenzie approaching their table. "What a small world.", he remarked as he slipped into the booth John was occupying, half-sitting onto his expensive looking coat. The things I do for you, Parish. Still, not the worst stake-out I've been at.

His words broke whatever spell had fallen over the two, making them separate. "Ollie.", Sabrina breathed out in surprise as he felt daggers being stared into him from his right, "What are you-" Good, stare, fucker. Game on. See how much long you keep your cool for. "Grabbing lunch, what else?", he said and sent her one of his devilish grins before he raised his hand to call Sally over. A sigh left her lips, "Oliver." "What?", he was certain the innocent expression he gave her wasn't exactly fooling her, but he didn't care, "You're not going to make introductions, Rina?" Sabrina huffed but as usual, her annoyance melted away too quick, always having a soft spot for him despite his misdemeanors, "You two kind of already met." "Still, my ma raised me better.", Oliver turned slightly, offering his hand to the man next to him, "Oliver McKenzie." He didn't back down from the greeting he was forcing upon her date, and after a few beats John accepted his handshake, a mask of friendliness slipping over his scowl, "John Duncan." "Ollie…", Sabrina started, chewing on her lip as he leaned back into his seat and Sally appeared by his side. "McKenzie, the usual?" "Yes, thank you, love.", her cheeks flushed at the wink he paired the pet name with.

He wasted a second to stare at Sally's retreating form before turning forward again, reminding himself he had more important matters to take care of, "You were saying, Rina…" "Are you really going to eat here? We're-" "On a date.", John finished her sentence, and the irritation peeking through in his voice made Oliver smile brighter. He exhaled dramatically, "You're really going to make poor old Ollie eat alone? I've been eating at my desk for days, Rina. You won't even notice I'm here, promise." "I..", her gaze darted between him and John before she nodded quickly. Oliver clapped his hands together, "Then it's settled. I've always wanted to do a three-way." The fucker beside him chose that exact moment to lift his glass to his lips, water going down the wrong pipe at the statement. "You okay there, bud? Worry not, I've been to a CPR course.", Oliver asked and patted his back for good measure, ignoring Sabrina's stare that was full of warning while her date tried his best to mask his coughs.

"And that's how I got this scar.", the detective next to John shifted in his seat before scratching at his beard, finishing yet another story after spending almost half an hour reigning over the conversation. But who's keeping track? Oh, yes, I am. Underneath the table, John's leg was bouncing in a rhythm that paired with the occasional smiles, Sabrina would aim his way were the only thing keeping his temper in check. "Mind if I steal one of your potato wedges, bud?", Oliver asked, and before he even got permission, he reached over his hand and swooped up one of the last pieces of potato left on his plate. After annihilating his own meal the detective had moved onto desert, staking his claim on the last piece of the infamous chocolate pie the lunch rush had spared, then had proceeded to switch to casually stealing whatever food John was yet to finish. He could help but imagine driving his fork into his hand before it had time to retreat, giving him another scar to gush about to strangers. Instead, John forced a smile, hoping his composure wasn't crumbling as he gripped the utensil between his fingers. "John?", Sabrina had an amused look in her hazel eyes, "Look at you daydreaming." "Pay attention, Johnny.", Oliver leaned in to whisper in a way only he would hear, "Don't be getting too cocky after "last night". I doubt it was that magical to excuse disrespecting her." His words left little doubt he had read the card sent with the roses, and had gotten the wrong impression from the message within. The only thing he got as a response from John was a stoic expression, as he refused to entertain his childish games and allow him to destroy whatever good impression Sabrina had formed about him.

A miniscule part of him argued that the man currently sitting on his coat was worried about his friend and testing him, set on making sure he was good enough to date her. A test. Inevitable hazing. For the second time this week. Go figure. Sabrina seemed completely unaware of the words whispered quietly, "You sure you don't want anything else they have as dessert options, John?" "What would you-" "It might be time to head back, Rina.", Oliver cut him off. Her brows furrowed as she checked her watch, an apologetic look taking over her features, "Shoot, time flies. Raincheck on dessert?" At his nod, she quickly pulled out her wallet and on instinct, John's hand shot out and covered hers before she could open it, "I'm paying." "John…" "I insist, Detective." Beside him, Oliver snorted, but John ignored his strange reaction as he tugged at his coat until it was free from being used as a designer seat cover by the man. His hand reached into its right pocket to fish out his wallet and … came up empty. No. Absolutely not. He checked the other pockets, refusing to accept the fact that somewhere between the hotel and diner, it must have gotten stolen. Robbed, again. "I-,", he blinked, hand fisting the woolen garment as he took a deep breath. "John?", she searched his face, trying to figure out what had suddenly gone wrong. "I can't find my wallet." "Did you forget it at the hotel, maybe?" He shook his head while Oliver just leaned forward and for once, remained silent, "No, I'm sure I had it with me…" He had paid for the flowers, then for his breakfast at the café…it had been on his person the whole time. "I'm so sorry.", Sabrina muttered at the same time as her fellow detective produced his wallet on the table. "Ollie.", she sighed at the realization he'd had it all along. "Larceny, Detective McKenzie, really?", John bit out as he grabbed his wallet. An arrogant smirk took over his face, "I was just messing with you, Mr. Duncan. No need to go into attorney mode on me. Especially on your date." "My credit card is missing." "You mean this one?", Oliver raised his hand in front of his face, and one second, his fingers were empty, then, the next, they were holding John's card. "Oliver likes illusion.", Sabrina explained as she finished her milkshake, the same one whose foam had left traces on her bottom lip and kept teasing him before detective McKenzie had crashed their date. He had gotten so close to kissing her, wondering if she'd taste even sweeter. John covertly readjusted his dress pants, suspecting Oliver wouldn't be above making a blatant comment about any type of situation happening below his belt. "So he steals my wallet? Wouldn't exactly hold up in court as excuse." The detective rolled his eyes, then turned to face him with a serious expression, that made him wonder if he would get an apology. "Theft,", Oliver began as he raised a finger, "physical removal of an object that is capable of being stolen without the consent of the owner and with the intention of depriving the owner of it permanently." The last part carried the most emphasis and was accompanied by a satisfied leer. John just stared him down before another jab was made, "But then again, you probably know that, seeing how you had your luggage stolen and all that. I would hope." "I'm very well aware of the definition.", he gritted out, making the man's grin widen. Oliver crossed his arms over his chest, "Good, good. It would be a shame if Rina was being wooed by an impostor.", his voice lowered at the same time Sabrina called out his name, "Because I assure you, buddy, we won't take kindly to that sort of thing." "Ollie.", she repeated, her patience unwavering despite how many lines he was crossing. Her words prompted him to pat John's upper arm playfully as he released a heartfelt chuckle, "I'm just pulling his leg, Rina. A free practice run. How is he going to handle meeting everyone else, if he can't deal with some innocent jokes from little me?"

After paying the bill, they left the diner with Oliver putting himself between John and Sabrina, even taking it as far as to throw his arm over her shoulders. If she minded the gesture meant to keep them apart, she didn't let that show, continuing to chat happily as they walked back towards the precinct. The whole time John had to step around other people on the sidewalk, feeling left out despite her attempts to include him in the conversation. Third wheel… that's a first. He was used to getting women's undivided attention when he would take them out on dates, to a point they would hang onto his every word. By the end of the date, he would spot the same look in each of their gazes. Hunger. Determination. "Take me home.", they'd whisper, oftentimes rubbing their high heel along his calf, further cementing their intentions. It had gotten so easy. Predictable. Mundane. An itch he would scratch then move on. Go through the motions every once in a while when the urges would grow too restless to tolerate. As much as he hated the fact Oliver had invited himself to their date and brought chaos with him, the lunch in turn had been the most eventful he'd attended in years. And he'd managed to keep his temper in check despite the detective's persistent attempts to make him slip up. He didn't doubt if he was to meet the rest of Sabrina's team, the encounter would turn into a impromptu interrogation as they'd try to determine if he was the right fit for her. John had no plans on letting it all go that far. A date. Maybe another after it. Sleeping with her… as much as he wanted to cross that line completely… was inadvisable. Then he'd be flying back home. Only to see her again once Mooney's trial would begin.

"Go, Ollie, I will be right up.", Sabrina thankfully waved Oliver off as the three came to a stop in front of the main entrance of the station. "Nice seeing you.", the man reached out his hand to John, squeezing his palm in a warning while giving him a friendly smile. He didn't let any of that get to him, having faced tougher opponents, dealt with more convoluted tricks than whatever Oliver had up his sleeve, literally and figuratively. The second the door shut behind him, John turned back to Sabrina, taking hold of her hand. "We're having a redo of our date as soon as possible.", he said as he gazed into her eyes. "Why? I thought it was lovely…" "You see, when I asked to take you out, I meant just you, not letting someone wanting a 'three-way' to tag along, too." She let out a giggle, "I will have you know Oliver is very sought after. Quite the ladies man. He's not your type?" His thumb rubbed circles into the center of her palm, and he swore he could see her pupils dilate while her lips parted, "I don't care about his golden bachelor status, Detective. I don't like sharing." Every fiber of his being screamed at him to pull her in and clash his mouth to hers, not caring they were standing on the sidewalk about to give passersby a show. "John.", his name was barely audible as his lips lowered, inches from hers, his heart rate picking up again to a point it felt like the organ wanted to escape his chest. She took a step back suddenly, his hand holding hers becoming the only thing stopping her from stumbling backward when her boot went over the curb. John tugged her towards him to stop her momentum, and she braced a hand against his lapel as she released a surprised laugh. "Don't tell me my bad luck is creeping onto you, Sabrina." "It's not. I hope." He nodded, feeling like he was under a spell, unable to move his gaze away from hers. "I need to go, John.", she muttered, smoothing down his coat, "Thank you for lunch. And for paying for Ollie's food… I could have taken care of it." "Nonsense.", his free hand tucked her hair behind her ear before it cupped her cheek, "Let the man live his three-way dream." She smiled at that before his head dipped again, his approach halting when she whispered his name. "I really don't want you to kiss me right now." Another first. "Why?" "Because I need to stay focused… and I have a feeling I won't be able to if you do." "Yeah?" "Certainly." It was his turn to step back, letting his hand drop from her face. Pride took over his system at the admission, at the proof she was feeling it too. The tension between them that had materialized from the moment they had met and kept him awake at night, and his dreams filled visions of her. "A redo, Sabrina. Just the two of us. I want it to be just right.", he squeezed her hand. "Okay." "We can talk later, iron out the details. I won't keep you." She nodded, yet made no move to leave. "I meant to ask… did you like the flowers?" "Flowers?", visible confusion was written all over her features. In ways he shared it, because from Oliver's hushed remarks, it sounded like he had seen the bouquet, read John's note for her. "I guess I might be ruining a surprise then." She nudged his shoulder, "So this is when you got the scratch." "Yeah." "Now I feel bad." "Don't be. You didn't throw the bouquet. Though, you could technically find the bride for me so I can press charges." "Quite the eventful work trip, Mr. Duncan.", she quipped as she finally moved around him. He reached for her hand again, bringing it to his lips, and kissed the top of it. An old-fashioned gesture. Yet another first. After the slightly disastrous lunch date, he craved any type of physical contact he could get while still respecting her request. "Goodbye, Detective." "Stay out of trouble for me.", Sabrina called out as she hurried inside the precinct. He hadn't missed the way she reacted, how her breath had hitched when his lips had made contact with her skin.

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @poisonedtruth @theelderhazelnut @madparadoxum @cassietrn @corvosattano @florbelles @josephslittledeputy @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @aceghosts @direwombat @strangefable @dumbassdep @euryalex @purplehairsecretlair @voidika @simplegenius042 @thesingularityseries @nightbloodbix @clicheantagonist @fangsandroses @wrathfulrook and anyone that would like to share something <3

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inafieldofdaisies · 8 months

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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @direwombat ❤️

Midweek check-in. We're jumping into Chapter 3 of John and Sabrina's AU with a little snippet where he's doing a great job of picking flowers for her while Leslie and Oliver become partners in crime.

A faint ringing pulled John out of his slumber, making him turn on his side away from the sunlight coming into the room through the half-open curtains. When the sound persisted, he reached a hand to the nightstand and grabbed the hotel room phone's receiver, holding it up to his ear, face still buried in his pillow. "Hello?", he croaked out, voice raspy. "Mr. Duncan, there's a delivery in the lobby for you." "What time is it?" "10 am, sir.", the man on the other line announced matter-of-factly. Of course. His usual alarm hadn't woken him up, resulting in him oversleeping, but reality was that he was stuck in another city with a cleared out schedule. He suspected by the following Friday, he wouldn't know what to do with himself, deemed a workaholic by many. Still, compared to everything else he had faced so far, that predicament seemed insignificant. "I will be right down in a bit." He quickly freshened up after the call ended, and with a final look at the vase with flowers the bat had knocked down the previous night, he left the room.

Downstairs, the lobby was relatively busy, his gaze running over the guests piling in and out of the hotel as he approached the welcome desk. "Morning.", he uttered out in a greeting, reminding himself he needed to grab a coffee. "Morning.", the younger man at the reception echoed back. "I was told there's a delivery for me." "Yes, yes.", he gestured to a couple of bags behind the counter, "Would you like me to call someone to help you with those?" "No.", John retorted quickly, feeling in no mood to interact with people so soon after waking up, "I wanted to ask…" "Yes, Mr. Duncan?" "Are there any flower shops you would recommend?" The man wasted no time in retrieving a notepad and jotting down an address for him, "It's three blocks away, most of our guests use their services." "Thank you."

With the small piece of paper tucked safely into his pocket, he picked up the bags and divided them between his hands, which in turn made pressing the button to call the elevator a challenge. "We meet again.", a hand appeared to his right and did it for him before the woman he had run into at the prison moved next to him as they waited for the elevator to arrive. "Ms. Donovan." A smirk marred her face while she went to fix her hair that wasn't out of place to begin with, each auburn curl falling over her shoulders perfectly to a point it seemed unnatural, "Look at that, you remembered." Kind of hard not to, when you have the same last name as the woman I like. Like?

He ignored the word and sent her a polite smile as they stepped into the elevator. It was beyond obvious that Candice intentionally chose to stand closer to him, or as close as his purchases would allow in the empty space. The fact she immediately pressed the button to the third floor was another unpleasant sight. "Which floor, Mr. Duncan?" "Fifth.", he lied seamlessly, knowing it would be best if she didn't know his room number.

"How did your meeting go?", she asked and glaced at him from the corner of her eye. "It didn't. There was a setback." "Oh, my.", she exclaimed, curiosity seeping into her tone and making her bright green eyes light with intrigue, "That's awful, darling." John shook his head, his attention returning to the floor indicator, "Hardly something that would discourage me. I have a new appointment, so everything is in order, Ms. Donovan." "Well,", the doors pinged, signaling they had reached the third floor, and John had to remind himself he shouldn't exit despite his instinct telling him to, "if you do face any trouble… you can give me a call, and we will find a desirable solution, I pressume you still have my card." He pushed down the urge to snarl at how she said "desirable", the innuendo, and her intentions behind the "friendly" suggestion for help being as clear as day to him. She wanted to do him a favor, and in return, he'd be indebted to her. And if he had to bet, it wouldn't be as simple as spending a night in her bed. No, when a woman like Candice Donovan would sink her teeth into someone she had set her sights on, she wouldn't just let go, at least not before having her fill and certainly not without ripping out their throat once she was finished. "I appreciate that.", he forced another well-practiced grin as she stepped out and waved him an elegant goodbye. Her heels resonated down the long hallway as she strutted away from him, no doubt putting on a show. Everything about her appearance was adeptly selected: from her designer heels to the emerald green dress that accentuated her curves and showed enough cleavage to draw in a man's gaze while still keeping her pretense of class. John breathed out a sigh of relief when the doors closed, and he found himself on his own again. Fuck. Just what I needed… her being on the same floor. He knew without a shadow of a doubt he had to avoid Candice like the plague, even more after this lie and the way it could only further fuel the interest of someone like her.

Once the elevator got down to his floor again, he hurried back to his room, fearing with his luck, he would end up running into her if he took too long. He quickly dropped off his bags by the door and went back down to the lobby, making a stop at the reception on his way out. "Hello." "How can I help, sir?", the man's gaze shifted away from the monitor and up to him. John straightened his back, leaning against the desk in a pose he often used when addressing judges during sidebars and usually yielded success in whatever he was arguing, "I would like a room change." The hotel receptionist pursed his lips, "I'm afraid that won't be possible. We're fully booked, Mr. Duncan. Is there an issue with your room?" Against his better judgment, his hand strayed to his chin to rub his beard, something a trained eye like Candice's would take as a hint of weakness, "No. Thank you." He made a move to leave, then remembered the broken vase, "One more thing, yesterday night a bat flew in and knocked off a vase off the dining table." "I'm sorry, sir.", concern washed oved the man's features, "Is it still inside? Do I need to call animal control?" "No.", John couldn't help a prideful smile from emerging, "I made sure it made its way back out." Technically speaking, he had done just that. With some help at concocting a plan of action and further moral support from Sabrina. "I'm glad to hear that, sir." John left the hotel, convincing himself his streak of bad luck would eventually end, that making it to his destination without running into any trouble was doable.

A stroll in his new shoes felt like a mistake after almost getting drenched multiple times thanks to cars driving full speed through puddles formed after last night's late rain. Still, waiting on a driver God knew how long and then asking them to take him to a place that was within walking distance was a bit of an overkill, even for him. Breathing in some fresh air seemed like a good idea, too. A couple of minutes later, after almost passing the flower shop thanks to his thoughts hopelessly drifting back to Sabrina, John found himself in front of it just as a man pushed through its doors, seeming in quite the rush to leave. It didn't take long to figure out the reason for his hasty escape. The moment he entered the store, instead of the usual polite greeting he would have expected, he was met by a horror movie worthy shriek that pierced his ears before a bouquet flew at his head. The sudden sting in his forehead told him his hands weren't fast enough to stop the bundle of flowers in its tracks as shock overtook him. "You have the audacity to come back? After you break things off with me on OUR wedding day!", a female hollered his way as the bouquet landed at his feet, her eyes glazed over with anger to a point the mistaken identity hadn't even registered to her. The violent outburst was followed by tears that threatened to undo all the work her makeup artist must have put into her look, and the only thing he could do was blink in surprise when she flew past him, and out of the shop.

"Mister, are you okay?", a woman close to his age broke him out of his daze, "I'm so sorry." "I-", he shook his head and moved further in, overwhelmed by the mix of fragrances that attacked his senses, "I have no idea what just happened." "Wedding drama.", the woman sighed, focused on an arrangement she was working on. Assault more like it. And she fled the scene. "Anything catching your eye?", she spoke up again, finally shifting his attention to him fully as he regarded the premade bouquets and rolls of vases filled with various type of flowers. "A bouquet. Red roses. And I would like to have it delivered today." A part of him argued he had no idea what flowers Sabrina preferred, but red roses were the option he always went with and none of his past lovers ever seemed disappointed in the choice. Quite the opposite, in fact - the gesture inarguably yielded the desired result each time he would task Penny with sending them to a woman. Having a PA to take care of his every whim including sparing him the hassle to go down to the florist's personally certainly came in handy anytime he would cave in and entertain the side of him yearning for a female's touch, but after the drunk call, he was forced to make the trip himself for once. "You're in luck then, you caught our morning window for deliveries.", the florist announced as she began selecting roses for the bouquet. "How many roses, sir?" John paused, unsure of how many Penny would get normally, "60?" The woman bit back a smile, "It must be a special someone. I would advise trying to avoid getting it hurled at your person, though." "She is, yes. And I will keep that in mind." Especially for still entertaining me after getting a call in the middle of the night and staying on the phone while my room was under siege by a bat. But telling any of that to a stranger seemed like oversharing, so he settled for a simple answer instead. She reached underneath the counter and produced an empty card and a pen for him, "How about you fill this out for her while I'm preparing the bouquet?"

"Thank you.", the plain piece of paper in his hand gave him a pause, then his mind drifted back to the night Sabrina had given him a ride, "Do you by chance have a card with butterflies on it or something close?" The florist smiled as she set aside the roses she had gathered and crouched down behind the counter, presenting him with way too many options to choose from. "Ask me what I don't have.", she added with a laugh. His fingers shifted through the cards, each seeming way too colorful and like it would clash with the simple bouquet until he came across one that screamed Sabrina. The inky black butterfly catching his eye so much that looking at the others seemed pointless. "This one.", he announced then moved away to give her space to work on his bouquet and settled at the far end of the counter, leaning forward on his elbows as he contemplated what he should write inside. It was another thing Penny took care of for him. "You have such a way with words, John.", his date would whisper and stroke his hand, eyes full of awe while he'd smirk, not having the slightest clue what his PA had even written to begin with. He never bothered to ask, all he cared about was it was working. What do I say? Minutes ticked by where he came up empty after overthinking every idea that would pop up in his mind and deeming it inappropriate. Finally, he forced himself to put pen to paper, writing a simple, "Thank you for last night. - J"

Once the bouquet was finished and he paid for it, he left the shop, feeling content he had done something without Penny's help. The flowers were on their way to Sabrina's precinct, and his morning had started quite uneventful aside from encountering Candice and being hit in the face by a bouquet an angry soon-or-not-so-soon bride-to-be threw at him. He didn't want to think if that granted bad luck in opposition to catching it after a wedding ceremony. He crossed the road with his sights set on a small cafe across the street from the flower shop. He was going to have breakfast while he waited for Sabrina to call, the idea of their date fueling his good mood despite the dull pain in his temple.

"We're heading out, boys.", Graham Ross said as he and his partner at the Missing Persons Division, Vaughn, set on following up a lead. "Good luck.", Oliver retorted as the door shut behind them and he let out a yawn, spinning around in his chair to face Leslie, "So… you can tell me now." "Don't start, McKenzie." "What did she say?" Leslie sighed, "I just know you won't be able to keep your mouth shut, she knows it too, which is why,", he pointed at the younger detective, "she was hesitant to share anything about the guy in front of you." "I won't, pinky promise.", Oliver raised his pinky for good measure as he took a sip of coffee. "She likes him.", Parish hoped the shrug he gave was nonchalant enough, still trying to wrap his head around the fact Sabrina was showing interest in someone, let alone an attorney. "Look at you, stating the obvious. Give me something more, buddy, that's like telling me water's wet." He rubbed his neck, wondering how much was safe to disclose, but still knowing Oliver wouldn't do anything to actually hurt her, rather wanted his curiosity to be fed. "John", the name rolled off his tongue, leaving a bitter taste in its wake, "lifted one of her business cards so he can have her number and is now texting her." Oliver whistled, "See, I knew the whole "NOT MY GIRLFRIEND" had its intent. And Rina isn't creeped out?" "Nope."

He pursed his lips, "Who knew she'd go for a hotshot attorney from all people, especially with Candy being in that field. Though there was something about him that just seemed… off." Leslie snorted as he leaned back in his chair, "Off? As in?" "It was like his charm was only surface level. You will see when you meet him." "He asked her out.", Oliver raised an eyebrow at his words, "And not directly." "Meaning?" "Decided to act sleek and 'check' if she has any recommendations for lunch spots." "So smooth.", Oliver said, voice dripping with sarcasm and making him let out a laugh. "And she thought it was an innocent question, went as far to argue with me, Ollie… how he just wanted to eat somewhere nice. Couldn't look me in the eye when she finally saw his next text asking her to 'grab lunch'." McKenzie swiveled in his chair lightly, mug clutched between his hands as he contemplated the story, "Did she agree?" "No idea. We were in and out of interviews the whole day yesterday and by the time I got home, I pretty much passed out." "There's more, Parish…" Leslie shook his head, "Not really." "Sure, sure, and I was born yesterday." "I might have told her to go out with him." The confession made Oliver choke on his coffee, sputtering, "Come again." "You heard me."

"Jesus, Leslie.", he gave him a pitiful look, "You like her, why would you do that? You basically opened the door to someone else getting in her pants. Law pun not intended, but damn." "Ollie." "What? You think he won't be trying to? My bet is he was probably rubbing one out the second he was on his own." "I want her to be happy. And this… ain't giving me much hope for the guy." Oliver tsk-tsked in disapproval, "Just saying it how I see it. And you, my friend... need to get your shit together before someone else takes the empty spot in her life, same one you've been eyeing like a sad puppy since the moment she first walked in here. Then you can both be happy and I get to be your best man." "That ship has long sailed, we all know it." He got one of McKenzie's signature eyerolls, "And you don't know how to swim? Board that motherfucker, Parish." "I'm fine with my role, Ollie.", Leslie said eventually, "Plus. He has no chance in the long run." "Why's that?" "Rina's been waiting for someone." A chuckle escaped Oliver, "Aren't we all?" "And she's adamant about it. John just doesn't know he would be fighting a losing battle." Sabrina herself had told him as much when he had finally admitted he had feelings for her, confessing she wasn't over some man she had met long time ago, that she would never be. "Ooof, his poor ego." "Yeah. It would die a gruesome death."

Oliver opened his mouth to most likely crack another joke at the lawyer's expense when a knock sounded at the door before an young man peeked inside their division. "Morning. I have a delivery here.", he announced in a rush, "Flowers for a Miss Donovan? I was told to bring them up here by the front desk…" Leslie stared at the enormous bouquet of blood red roses he held, his expresson of disbelief no doubt matching Oliver's. McKenzie was the first the jump to his feet, and with his desk being the closest to the doorway, he erased the distance between it and the delivery guy in a couple of strides, "She's out, but I will take them." "Thank you.", the man passed him a cupboard from under his arm, "Sign here, please." Oliver scribbled his signature quickly, shooting a dramatic look towards Parish when he took the flowers in his hands. "Have a nice day.", the man called out and left as quickly as he had appeared. "There's a card in the sea of roses, Leslie.", McKenzie reported, eyes shining with dangerous curiosity. Leslie rose up from his seat and met him halfway, "Don't." But it was too late, Oliver had already transfered the bouquet to him as he plucked the card from it and opened it. "Boundaries, Ollie."

"'Thank you for last night, signed J.'", he read out loud, hollering a laugh at the last part, "Holy shit. He did not just-" "I could have gone without hearing that, Oliver.", Leslie ripped the card out of his fingers and shoved it back between a roll of roses, then turned, fully intending to place the flowers on her desk and forget about the words just read to him. Instead his feet carried him over to his own, and before he could think better of his actions or question what awful spell had fallen over him, he dropped the bouquet in the waste bin by it with a snarl. It was the black butterfly on the card that set him off and the realization it matched the two Sabrina had tattooed on her clavicle, proving "last night" could mean one thing. Oliver let out a laugh, gaze casted downward, "Jesus, talk about an extra fucker, it can’t even fit halfway in the trashcan. How many roses do you think that is? And do we think he's compensating for something else with the size of that bouquet?" "An extensive number. Blatant overkill. He's showing off, plain and simple." "Yeah. The card couldn't be more on the nose, either." "Don't remind me.", Leslie gritted out and pushed the flowers further in with his shoe, "What kind of man sends flowers to a woman with that message? At her workplace." "Maybe… it's not what it looks like?", Oliver didn't sound convinced by his own words at all, "Yeah, who am I kidding." "And she'd hate it.", it was a matter of fact statement, "Roses aren't even her favorite."

"Board that ship, because that fucker is already at the helm. But worry not, we can wash away his look of victory when we throw him back into the ocean." "You sure are going hard for those pirate metaphors, Ollie." "You started it." "What are you two up to?", Sabrina's voice made both of them jump in surprise as Leslie reacted quickly and kicked the waste bin under his desk before sinking back into his chair like nothing had happened. Oliver followed suit by taking a seat at the edge of his desk, his body obstructing her view of the flowers further. She made her way to her desk, clutching a folder close to her chest, completely oblivious to the fact they had done something bad. Sabrina faced them with a small smile, and Leslie didn't dare to wonder if it was thanks to her night with- No. Don't go there. "Lab's finally done. We got a match, now only to put out a BOLO.", she was beaming with those news, "We're getting closer, Leslie." Oliver and Leslie shared a look while she shrugged off her coat and sat down, turning her computer back on. "You're both awfully quiet. What happened?" "Nothing.", Parish said first. McKenzie in turn crossed his arms over his chest, sending a knowing smirk his way before asking, "So how was your night, Rina?" "Hmm?", Sabrina glanced at him briefly, feigning confusion, "Boring?" "That so?" "Yeah.", the fact her gaze remained glued to her monitor didn't help matters while Oliver pushed for more intel despite a warning kick from Leslie. "Boring how?"

"What are you up to, Oliver?" "Just answer the question, Sabrina.", Oliver retorted playfully, "We're bonding." She rolled her eyes, but entertained his excuse, "Boring as in, it's what I do every night - went home, made Sav dinner, crashed for the night." Silence took over the room, filled only by the clicking of her keyboard as she put up the BOLO for their suspect, and Leslie almost spilled his coffee over his jeans when Oliver broke it, "And what about our lawyer friend?" "John?" "Yes. You have any other lawyers thirsting for your attention?" "Hilarious. What about him?" Did you see him last night? Why is he sending you an obnoxious number of flowers as the most distasteful display of gratitude for sleeping with him? Thankfully, neither of them asked her that, instead Oliver went for a safer question, "Heard from him yet?" Sabrina groaned, "Leslie, you told him, didn't you?" "That he asked you out for lunch?", he wiggled his eyebrows, "Sure, he snitched, you can spank him for it later, but it wouldn't have been too hard to figure out on my own, Rina. My senses were tingling from the second the rich fucker walked in to report his luggage stolen." "Fuck.", she uttered out suddenly, pushing back her chair as she rummaged through her bag for something until she pulled out her phone, "Lunch. I will be right back." "Leslie.", Oliver whispered under his breath as they watched her rush out of the room, "I think it won't be as easy as throwing him overboard, matey. I haven't seen her run like that for anything that's not a case update."

Leslie's eyes narrowed, hating he was voicing the exact thing he had noticed, and the hand McKenzie rested on his shoulder for moral support. "Chin up, buddy.", his lips quirked up, "For what it's worth, he can take her out on a date, but you can take him out, literally. And me... I own a shovel." The door opening again prompted Oliver to resume his previous pose against the desk as Sabrina returned and put her coat back on. "Where are you off to, Rina?", he sing-songed, twirling one of Leslie's pens between his fingers. "Uh,", she cleared her throat, "I'm going out for lunch, guys." The announcement resulted in another pointed look from him aimed at Parish while Sabrina herself seemed far away, probably already out of the building in her mind. When neither said anything out loud, she bit her lip, growing uncertain, "I will be at Rue's, watching my phone like a hawk in case anything comes up from the BOLO… If you two don't think I-" "Go.", Leslie interrupted her, "You have to eat, Rina. We will keep an eye out." She nodded and shot him a smile and a small wave at Oliver as she left. "Have fun.", Oliver shouted after her before turning to Leslie, "Look at that, I'm suddenly hungry myself. Rue's sounds just divine right now." "Ollie. Don't.", Leslie's voice rose, already foreseeing the chaos the plan would cause and how it could ruin Sabrina's date with the lawyer. John. He was dreading even thinking about his name now. Oliver hoped off his desk and grabbed his own jacket, "I'm doing this alone, Parish, don't worry. A little recon. Fucker will be walking the plank in no time."

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @poisonedtruth @madparadoxum @wrathfulrook @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @shellibisshe @shegetsburned @jillvalentinesday @cassietrn @purplehairsecretlair @voidika @theelderhazelnut @v0idbuggy @chazz-anova @florbelles @corvosattano @nightbloodbix @euryalex @clicheantagonist @simplegenius042 @thesingularityseries @strangefable @dumbassdep and anyone with something to share ❤️

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inafieldofdaisies · 8 months

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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @direwombat ❤️

This week's snippet is on the longer side and full of misadventures, but I promise the ending is so freaking worth it, I have never laughed so much while writing a scene and it was at 2 am... All I'm going to say is: John and a bat.❤️ENJOYYY.

John stared at his phone as the car neared Portland, the unmistakable rumbling of his stomach quickly convincing him to grab lunch first before moving onto solving his flight and hotel issues. He knew it was the perfect excuse to text Sabrina, a foolproof way to continue their earlier conversation. Deep down he had hoped she'd recommend a place to eat, maybe offer to join him considering the fact he was all alone. Detectives have to eat, too, after all… Instead she had given him the most emotionless answer possible, like he was asking Google for a good lunch spot and not the woman that had captured his interest. The last part of one of her texts had taken an infuriating hold over his thoughts. "I won't be your girl." He hated the wording, even though she hadn't meant it that way. And since his 'thank you' she hadn't replied anything else, letting him to wonder if she had even gotten the hint. His fingers began typing out a new message, deciding to throw away all caution and subtlety to the wind. Fuck it. What if she refuses?

John: Feeling like grabbing lunch? I'm almost back in town.

There. Spelled it out for you, Detective. All you need to do is say 'yes'.

"Where are we headed, Mr. Duncan?", his driver pulled him back to reality and away from overthinking why she wasn't responding to his invite. He explained away the restaurant's general location to the man, leaving him to figure out how to get there. His phone finally chirped and he tried to not think about how fast he had unlocked the screen, expecting Sabrina would have texted him back, instead it was a message from Penny's work number.

Ms. Hastings: How did the meeting go, Mr. Duncan?

John looked down at the question that would be innocent enough coming from another person, but after the photo incident he just knew he had to keep her at even greater distance than before.

John: Good.

He kept his reply as short and reserved as possible, deciding against asking her to switch his flight back, telling himself that for once he would do it on his own and save on more interactions with her that day.

Minutes later, after finally caving in and asking his driver about his name (Ryan) and him agreeing to be on call for the day, he found himself in front of the small Italian restaurant. The bell above the door drew the attention of some of the customers seated towards the entrance while he made his way to an empty table near one of the windows overlooking the street. He couldn't deny the place had a homey charm with its red brick walls and old wooden furniture, and was different from the spots he usually ended up having lunches or dinners at. The moment he sat down, an older graying woman, wearing a red apron and a small metal tag spelling "Sofia" sent a smile his way as she grabbed a menu and headed in his direction. "Welcome. Always nice to see new faces stopping by.", she began in a friendly tone, a rarity for him in the last couple of days, "A menu, I will give you some time to choose what you'd like." "Thank you." She set a leather bound menu in front of him, making a move to retreat when an idea occured to him.

"Excuse me.", he mumbled quietly before he could change his mind while his fingers ran over the restaurant's name on the front cover. Gentle dark eyes settled back on him, "Yes, honey?" She had uttered the word out so naturally, like she was addressing her own grandson, not a stranger. "I was… I was told about this place by a detective and was wondering if she stopped by a lot." Instead of telling him his question was strange, Sofia just let out a small laugh before saying, "We get a lot of detectives as customers with the precinct being so close by. You'd have to be more precise." "It's hard to miss her.", he ignored the look she gave him at the simple observation, "Brunette, gray bangs-" "Beautiful?" He nodded, "Yes." "I know exactly who you mean. What did you want to ask?" "It might be a strange request… but I was going to order whatever she would usually get." It was a way for him to figure out what Sabrina was like and feel like a part of her was present at the lunch, that he wasn't sitting alone in the middle of a city that hated him. Pathetic? No. Simple curiosity. Sofia accepted the menu back when he handed it over, "Coming right up, honey. And what would you like to drink?" "Water. Thank you."

As he waited for whatever dish he was going to be surprised with to arrive, John occupied his time with trying to get in touch with the airline over the phone and spare a trip back to the wretched airport. Distorted generic hold music sounded in his ear, playing on repeat for the third time when Sofia reappeared and set a plate of bow-tie pasta, covered in sauce and mixed with other vegetables and meat. "Enjoy.", she whispered, noticing he was on the phone and left with that. He sighed, when the song looped again and reluctantly picked up his fork, deciding he wasn't going to let his lunch get cold and he knew he had made the right choice the moment his lips closed around the cutlery, the food melting on his tongue. You have good taste, Detective. He had finished half of his plate by the time a male voice interrupted the melody he feared would be stuck in his head for far too long. "Hello,", he cleared his throat, "I need to change the date of my return flight." "Alright, sir. What name is the reservation under?" "John. John Duncan." "Thank you. And you will be flying to?" "Atlanta." "From?" The question gave him a pause, "Portland."

"Date?" "Anything available after this coming Monday." "I will need your credit card details, sir. And then I will take care of each and everything." That did it, "What company do you work for?" "Uh-", the man on the other line started, taking way too long to respond and when he did it was the wrong airline. "You, scammer.", John gritted out, hanging up and cutting off the man insistence he had it all wrong. He bit back the string of curses that threatened to escape, knowing the other patrons wouldn't appreciate him losing his composure while they were having lunch. Hell. This must be hell. He was glad he had caught up with what was actually happening before getting his bank account drained as a grandiose finale to the week. After paying for his meal, and Sofia asking him to promise he'd be coming by for a meal again, he called Ryan to drive him to the airport.

[...]

"Friday.", the woman at the ticket counter announced matter-of-factly as she stared at the monitor in front of her. "As in two days?", John asked slowly, hoping somehow she had misunderstood his request and was offering him a seat on his originally planned flight. Reality was he was in complete denial about what it would actually mean - staying a whole week in Portland. "As in next Friday, sir.", the clicking of her mouse and whispering somewhere behind him on the line of customers was starting to get on his nerves, "The current booking you have is for this Friday." "Nothing else? Just Friday.", he repeated, then drummed his hand the counter, "Please check again." The woman sighed, "Sir, I said-" "Check again. Could be in first class, for all I care, the price isn't an issue." She shook her head, "Either way, all flights before Friday are sold out." Like hell they are. He tuned out her explanation about him choosing to fly in the month where multiple conferences, expos and galas are taking place. "Fuck.", he blinked as the word slipped out, a frown appearing on her face before she recovered. "If you're in a rush,", her voice lowered as she leaned forward, "you can check with other airlines. But chances are the answer would be the same. They might have openings in economy-" "No.", he basically hissed out, "I'm not flying economy ever again." Her lips pursed, "Would you like me to book the Friday flight for you then?" "Fine."

With his new ticket secured, John left the airport, dialing Penny before he could focus too much on the ever-growing list of reasons why avoiding phonecalls with her was a must. It took one dial ring and she picked up, her sultry voice filling his ears and making him pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration, "John, baby." "Ms. Hastings.", he gritted out in warning, and Ryan's gaze shifted to him in the rearview mirror. "Sorry. Sorry. How can I help you, Mr. Duncan?" "I need you to clear my schedule for next week and get me a ticket out of Portland before the end of it. Find anyone willing to sell their seat, I don't care what you have to do and how much they ask for. Anything that's earlier than Friday would do." "John,", her next words were but a hushed whisper, he could imagine her cupping a hand over mouth as she sat behind her desk, "Are you in such a rush to see me? Did you like the picture?" "Get me a ticket, Penny. Goddamn it. I'm in no mood for whatever game you're trying to play. I warned you about this.", his voice rose as his hand formed a fist against his knee. He was very close to punching Ryan's headrest and doubted the man would like that, especially after having done nothing to warrant his anger. "I-I will see what I can do.", her tone grew serious, "Did something happen with Mooney? Is this why you don't want to talk about my text? I was certain you would like the picture." "Focus on your job and get me the ticket, Ms. Hastings. And I... will pretend you sent me nothing.", he hung up with that before she had a chance to go on a dangerous tangent that would most likely result in another argument.

John: Feeling like grabbing lunch? I'm almost back in town.

"So, I was right, after all.", Leslie mumbled behind her completely dressed to head out, almost making Sabrina jump as she finally opened John's texts she had successfully avoided throughout the day, thanks to the family members interviews and additional questioning they had to conduct for their latest case. At his height, he could easily glance over her shoulder while she read the replies, making her wish she had waited until she was home to check them. She quickly shoved her phone back in her bag and put her jacket on, feeling glad it was just the two of them in the room, that Oliver wasn't live texting details about her personal life once more, "Don't start." "You're not even going to respond?", he asked in amusement. "No." "It must sting. Poor fucker has been waiting the whole day."

She was the first in the hallway with Leslie hot on her heels as she set for the elevator, then at the last moment she took the stairs, prompting him to pick up his pace so he could keep up, "I was just joking. No need to try to ghost me, too." Sabrina forced a laugh, "I'm not ghosting him." "How long have we known each other, Rina?" She finally slowed down when they reached the lobby, and he fell into step beside her, "Way too long." "Exactly. Which means you can talk to me." "I know." Leslie held the door open for her as usual, allowing her to exit the building first, and when she turned to face him and wish him goodbye, he pulled her in for a quick hug instead. "Don't ignore him if you like him.", he said when she moved out of his embrace. "I thought you were suspicious of him. Now you're my wingman?" He gave her a shrug, "I saw how you smiled at his messages at lunch. All I want is for you to be happy. Who cares if it's because of some schmuck attorney." "Goodnight, Leslie.", she ignored his insinuations and took a step backward, then another as she sent him a smile before she turned and headed for her car. The whole time, she kept her hands in her pockets, telling herself it was because of the cold when in truth it mostly so she wouldn't reach for her cellphone. His laugh paired with a "Goodnight" echoed behind her, and she had no doubt if she was to turn she'd find him still standing where she had left him, that he was waiting to make sure she got into her car safely, just like he did every time they left work together.

John unlocked his hotel room and hung up the garment bag, containing one of the replacement suits he had bought after his stop at the airport, the rest of the clothes were supposed to be delivered directly to the hotel in the morning. Another shopping bag held a second pair of shoes, underwear, sleep pants, his favorite fragrance, and other little things he'd need if he were to actually end up staying for an extra week in Portland. A part of him believed that Penny would find a way to get him on an earlier flight, always being someone to go above and beyond for his approval. He settled for ordering room service for dinner, already feeling too drained and on edge to attempt eating out. The TV across him was on, filling the silence in the room as he ate an average tasting steak with butter–grilled vegetables on the side, yet his eyes remained on his phone that he had sworn to stop checking regularly by then yet still hoped would light up eventually. Just making sure I don't miss any news about my travel arrangements. I don't care that she didn't text me back. His conversation with Clive had turned out to be uneventful, with him affirming the fact that set-backs were to be anticipated with a client like Mooney. As he was washing up in the bathroom after finishing his dinner, he heard his phone ringing and picked up the call in a rush, anticipation of good news and disappointment at the name displayed on his screen mixing simultaneously.

"Yes?" "John.", Penny began in a strange tone, then corrected herself, "Mr. Duncan. You-you,", a hiccup turned into a muffled sob and swallowed her words. Jesus. "Ms. Hastings, are you drunk?", he snarled. "You think I'm-", she took a deep breath, "lesser than you- that you can just treat me like garbage because I-I like you. Well, you know what?" He sighed in exasperation, wondering what had possessed her to call him and if he should just hang up. "Fuck you, John Duncan. I'm better than this.", her voice rose and something clattered on the other side of the line, "And you-" "Ms. Hastings, last chance-", but she was on a roll, set on finishing her piece, her anger bubbling over before his. "You can fire me, it's not going to change anything or who you are as a person. You're heartless. And you're happy to be that way. You enjoy talking down to people and then you'd just smile at them like nothing had happened…" His hand rubbed at his forehead, regret at picking up her call swooping in. "Well, you can get yourself a ticket, Mr. Duncan.", Penny gritted out his name, "Have fun in Portland." Before he could reply anything the line went dead.

John blinked, staring at his homescreen and wondering if he had imagined the last couple of minutes. For her time as his assistant, Penelope Hastings had never drunk called him, no matter how many passes she would make at him at work, or how many times she'd be turned down. "She's unstable on top of being obsessed.", he noted with a frown, dreading the idea his first task upon returning in Atlanta would be to find a new PA when the last time had been nothing but torturous.

Minutes later, John found himself in the bathroom, sentenced to another freezing shower despite the hotel's claims everything had been fixed. He couldn't deny that he felt not only cold but also miserable and absolutely restless as he quickly soaped his body, rinsed, and stepped out with a towel around his waist. He made his way back to the bed without a glance at his reflection and put on a pair of sleep pants, sprawling on top of the sheets while he unlocked his phone, praying that Penny's drunken state hadn't given her the courage to cross the line again.

Sabrina: Sorry about today.

He didn't bother typing up a reply, instead directly dialing her as he rose to a sitting position and leaned against the headboard, his bad mood seeming like a distant past at her smile. "Hey, stranger." "Hi." "How's Portland been threatening you?" He shook his head as his gaze strayed to the window and the darkness outside before returning to hers, "I had a long, long day." "Long as in… you want to talk about it or is it a case of 'don't make me reminisce'?." A chuckle ripped out, despite the sore subject, "Where do I start… my client stabbed another inmate with a fork.", her eyebrows rose in surprise at the last part, "so now not only do I have to rearrange my whole schedule for him, but I will be stuck here for another week." "Good God. A fork, like for real, you're not pulling my leg?" "Yeah." Her eyes narrowed in consideration, "Did he use a spork? Because it's what they're allowed to have for meals, John…", a giggle left her, and she slapped a hand over her mouth, "Sorry, I shouldn't be laughing. But that visual…" He couldn't help his smile, "Fuck it, if I know. The deputies wouldn't tell me anything. But at least my misery is amusing someone." "I'm sorry." "The wonders of being the defense."

She nodded, eyes still shining with mischief, "On the bright side…at least he didn't stab you." "Were you worried about me?" The way she bit her lip made the cold shower forced upon him completely useless, "Maybe." His smile was a full-blown smirk by then, "Careful, this might be just what my bruised ego needed." "Worrying about civilians is part of the job, Mr. Duncan. Especially considering the luck you've been having quite consistently." Good try, Detective. Sure, a "civilian". "How was lunch?" "Lonely.", he ran a hand through his hair, "But I have to admit, you do have a taste." "Sorry for going dark on you. I was already at lunch and then got stuck in hour-long interviews… What did you get?" The question took him aback, seeing how he had no idea what the dish Sofia had served him was named, "This delicious bow-tie pasta with meat and-" "Veggies?" "Yes." "John?" "Mhm?", he swore he could fall asleep just listening to her voice, the last couple of minutes making him feel more at ease despite how unsure he was about where the call would go. "You ordered it?" "Yes. It was hard to pick from everything they had listed…"

There was a long pause, then she muttered, "It's not on the menu." His eyes widened, "I-", he coughed while she quietly chucked on the other side, "It's not? I'm pretty sure it was." I'm sure she bought it. He couldn't understand why, but anytime it got to having a conversatiion with Sabrina, he ended up turning into a teenager navigating his first crush rather than one of the most sought after attorneys in Georgia. "It used to be, back when the restaurant first opened doors, and now… it's like a "secret" menu item for old customers." John chose the strategy of keeping his silence, hoping she'd change the subject on her own, suspecting otherwise she would see through whatever excuse he'd make up. "Well?" "Yes?" Her eyes narrowed playfully, "How did you know about it?" "I'd rather not explain that one away, Sabrina." "Why not?" "Because I like my current odds more. Plus,", he announced matter-of-factly, "I can always invoke my right to remain silent, Detective." He felt like the last part was a complete mistake simply for the images it concocted in his mind, especially after her mention of interviews. He hadn't exactly missed the handcuffs hanging onto her belt when she finally stripped off the wretched coat as she took his incident report, either. He swore her voice dipped, "That so, Mr. Duncan? Look at me, forgetting who I'm dealing with."

"Any news from the elusive Detective Stockton? Because I'm yet to hear back from him." "Maxwell is one of the best, John. They're just drowning in cases, but I know for a fact he's taking your case seriously, not only to catch whoever that guy is, but to recover your things." "I appreciate that.", he shifted on the bed, "Speaking of which… you don't have to worry about me being cold anymore." "Oh?", she quirked an eyebrow, then made a circular motion with her hand as she scrunched up her face, "I was getting a different impression from your lack of shirt." "By choice, mind you." "Lucky me. So… what does this attorney wear to bed?" His lips twisted into a smirk at her question, "Are you asking what I think you're asking?" Sabrina shrugged, "Quid pro quo, John. You saw my unimpressive nightwear, it's only fair you show me yours." "Quite the opposite, your nightware left an impression." The shirt was making a return that night, though if he was there like she had joked during their previous call, it wouldn't have stayed on her body for long.

"Are you stalling?", she challenged. "No." He absolutely was, knowing his sleep pants were absolutely going to leave an impression as well. A part of him was wishing he had put on underwear, an extra layer that would attempt to conceal his hard-on. Like that would help. Her melodic laugh wasn't doing him any favors, too, "I'm waiting." He doubted that trying to buy more time would have any positive effect, especially with the twinkle in her eyes as she regarded him. What would she do? Hang up? After asking for a look? He sighed dramatically, "So impatient." Before he could talk himself out of it, he switched to the back camera of his phone, strategically cropping out as much as he could. Still not enough, judging by her silence. "I'm dealing with a… situation." Her expression was unreadable, "I can see that." "Roughly estimated, how much did my chances sunk with?", he asked, flipping back to the view of his face. "Who says they did?" She rested her head against her hand, drawing his gaze to the side of her neck that he couldn't help but imagine running his lips all over. "It's a good thing my shower is completely broken and only has one option for temperature: freezing." A small laugh left her, "Now I'm truly worried about you catching a cold. I'm shocked you haven't made them fix it, had the lawyer in you come out to play." "I'm being told they've fixed it." "Hell." "Yes. Portland hates me. Can you imagine me surviving a whole week here?" "You will be fine.", she waved him off. "I doubt you'd say the same if I list you all the things I've been through already."

"You know where to find me if you end up getting yourself in anything but legal trouble. That, I'm sure you can handle on your own." John smiled, "Noted. I will make sure to mention you as an emergency contact. So, about tomorrow…" She gave him a confused look, "Tomorrow?" Here goes nothing. "Go out with me.", the words left him in a rush and he rubbed a hand over his chest, wondering why his heart was suddenly racing. The last thing I need is a hospital visit. Sabrina was back to chewing on her lip, shifting against her pillows, her hesitation putting him on edge. He was used to women quickly making their intentions known upon meeting them, rarely having to work hard on convincing them to agree to a dinner, taking them to bed after always felt like the natural outcome, inevitably becoming a monotonous routine he'd turn to when he would find himself unable to push down his urges any longer. "I'm not sure what you're asking-" Come on, Detective, we both know that's not true. "I'm asking you out on a date, Sabrina. What else do you think my lunch message meant?", his fingers gripped his phone while his heart kept up the same dreadful pace. She tucked a stray piece of hair that had escaped her bun behind her ear, "And here I thought you just didn't know how to use Google and then felt obligated to invite me along." "Go out with me.", he repeated, "I'm asking you out as a woman I'm interested in, no obligation in sight, only the fact you're the first good thing to happen to me in this wretched city and no matter how much I try, I can't get you out of my head."

More than he intended had spilled out in the confession, but it wasn't like he could take it back, and a part of him… didn't want to. "I-", she shut her mouth, stopping whatever answer was about to escape. "Say 'yes'. One date.", his tone was bordering on pleading. Desperation. Never a good look. "I guess I just want to know one thing first…", there was a somber look in her eyes as she considered asking whatever was holding her back from agreeing to a simple meal. "What is it?" "The text. The one you sent on accident… what's the story there?" Are you jealous? Wondering about potential competition like I was the second you handed me your phone? "My assistant. She's,", he knew he had to choose his next words carefully as he held Sabrina's gaze, "been showing interest in me for a while. It's one-sided, I assure you. And when she saw the usual passive remarks didn't do the job, her strategy became bolder." Her nod urged him on, "She sent me a picture today. I had to remind her she's crossing the line. Are you worried about her?" "No.", she pursed her lips, "I guess all I wanted to know was what you see me as, if I would be one among many women in line." "I meant what I said- you're the only one I'm interested in, no matter how many unsolicited pictures Penelope decides to harass me with. Not to mention, you saw exhibit A of that attraction.", his last words cracked at her serious facade, making her let out a laugh, "Help a man out here, I think I've had enough embarrassing moments to last me a while."

"Okay.", she matched the grin that took over his face, "Yes, John. What else do I say after that, really?" His heart did another crazy flip the second she actually said 'yes', giving him a straight answer, "When?" Her fingers rubbed at her mouth absently, not at all helping with his situation below the belt, "I'm not sure where the cases I'm working on would take me, my time is mainly divided between work and well, my sister." The child she was raising on her own. He had read enough on her thanks to the file that one of the firm's investigators had provided for him, and yet he couldn't help but want more. "Wherever you can fit me in.", by then, he had given up on trying to sound even remotely like he wasn't desperate, "Lunch?" "Sounds good." "Tomorrow?" Sabrina smiled, "Depends on how my morning goes… I could perhaps text you?" "Okay, Detective." "I probably should leave you to it, turn in for the night." John didn't let his expression fall despite the disappointment he was experiencing even after his small win, "Goodnight." "Goodnight.", she paused, index finger running over her lips again when she said, "John?" "Hmm?" "I hope you know there are other ways to address matters than a cold shower, especially at this time of the year. Sleep well and try not to sleepwalk into trouble."

She hung up with that, not giving him any time to reply as he slumped against the pillow behind him. Reluctantly, he turned off the lights and crawled beneath the covers. As he lay in the darkness, the air around him felt electrified by her words, too heavy for him to breathe freely. The sheets stuck to his skin, eventually forcing him to crack open one of the room windows to let the cool night air in. He tossed and turned for a good hour, and no matter how much he willed himself to sleep, his body felt high-strung, craving her instead of rest. Her parting words inevitably pushed him to leave the bed and head back to the bathroom, discarding the constricting pants on the floor in front of it. It seems, this "matter" won't be going anywhere, Sabrina. No cold showers, you say? The idea that she was suggesting a "solution" and had a perfect understanding of what he would be doing the moment the call would end teased his senses when the door shut behind him and he grasped himself. His breathing grew labored, bouncing around him while he leaned his head back against the wall, imagining her being the one behind each stroke, because in a way she was. His legs buckled the second his release hit him, his free hand that was braced on the counter providing much needed support. Who would I be to go against your advice, Detective… He cleaned up, then swug the door open, ready to go back to bed, sleepiness creeping in now that he had finally caved in.

As he navigated the darkened room, he swore he registered a strange noise somewhere towards the far end of it, but he told himself his imagination was running wild. Then he heard it again. Flapping of…wings? A crash. Both made him dive for the bed as he blindly searched for his phone and the switch of the lamp on the nightstand beside it. The second light illuminated the space, his eyes anxiously scanned around him for the source of the previous sounds. I'm imagining things thanks to exhaustion. Yes. There's nothing. It was what wholeheartedly wanted to believe until he saw it. A bat. Big one at that. His nude form felt exposed and in imminent danger as the wretched creatures flew at him. In his panic, John slid off the bed, hands still clutching his phone like a lifeline as he crawled under like he was a goddamned commando it in attempts to avoid the attack.

What met him next was dust. A 5-star hotel? 5 stars. When did they clean this fucking room last? He tried to take a couple of calming breaths, feeling a sneeze building up as he unlocked his phone with shaky hands. He was dialing Sabrina before he could think better of the late hour, the idea of having to go back out undoing all the process he had made through controlled breathing. Something about the animal that had chosen to make his room its new home put him on edge more than usual, and he had faced criminals, ruthless attorneys, and awful prosecutors. The dial tones sounded in his ear, each new one convincing him he'd be put through voicemail soon enough and would be on his own. "John?", her sleepy voice called out in confusion at the exact moment a sneeze racked his body, "Did you actually catch a cold?" A sniffle was followed by a quiet, "Fuck." "John? Are you there?", she spoke out again, sounding more alert, "What is it?" "There's a bat.", he whispered like the creature would hear him and put an end to his game of hiding. "A rat?", she echoed incorrectly. "Sure, Detective,", he hated how his voice shook even as he spoke quietly, "but the type with fucking wings." "John? I can barely hear you." "A bat.", the word was loud enough this time, making her exclaim a small 'oh'.

"Where?" "I-I don't know. Fuck.", he screamed out the curse. "John?" "I'm underneath the bed, Sabrina. Hiding away like a goddamned child while it's flying around." His free hand slapped at the wooden underside of the bed, pain shooting across his wrist and doing nothing to dissipate his anger or bubbling panic it mixed with. "I-" "The floor is so filthy, just what you need when you're butt naked. Portland hates me. I can't go home and-" "John, listen to me,", her soothing tone interrupted his frenzied speech, "it got in somehow, and you can help it to get out, too." "No.", he gritted out. "Yes." "Did you not hear the 'I'm as naked as the day I was born' part?" A laugh ripped out of her despite the situation, "Good God, you sure know how to keep a woman entertained." "Sabrina.", her name was a warning. "Sorry. If it's any consolation, the poor thing is probably more scared of you than you're of it." A groan left him, "I'm not scared. But I'm sure glad to hear you're worried about my attacker." "John.", she sighed, "Did it actually attack you?" "Not yet." "You're going to be fine, I promise." "I-, he took another deep breath and inhaled god knows how much collected dust, "I have no idea how to make it leave."

"Are any of the lights on?" "Yeah. I heard a noise and couldn't see a damn thing without them." "You will have to dim them." She proceeded to list off instructions, slipping into resolution mode, her calm voice keeping his panic from rising. "Have you done this before, because it sure sounds like you have…" Sabrina chucked quietly, "You mean, have I talked a nude man into taking on a bat he's definitely not afraid of?" "Very funny." "Sorry. And to answer your question… I have. Dealing with critters is inevitable when you live alone." "I haven't.", and he wished it had stayed that way. "Soo..", she began slowly, "why are you without pants? Don't tell me they got stolen while you slept… was it the bat? Should I call Stockton? Though, I think crimes committed by animals are out of his jurisdiction, you can probably vouch for that." He held back a laugh at her playful remarks, reminding himself he was angry. "Seriously?" "Just trying to take your mind off things." "A challenging task with my doom looming on the horizon." "So why were you?" "Why do you think?", his voice dipped despite his predicament, desire slowly stirring up. "Did you at least manage to finish?" "Really?" "Hey, I'm just making sure I have the whole picture in case another report is needed."

To his dismay, her words were working, making him feel less alone. "Now, come on, Mr. Duncan, time to crawl out of there. Remember the steps?" He huffed, "Dim the lights. Make sure there's only one exit route. Is killing it an option?" "John." "Kidding." Not if decides to attack any sensitive spots. Especially before our date. "Open any curtains in its way and just keep an eye on it. Okay?" "You're going to stay on the line, right?" And what about that date? Still finding it appealing as an idea? "Of course. For moral support, to keep your fear at bay and all that." "I'm not afraid.", he insisted with a frown, "I was just making sure there would be someone present. You know, in case it kills me… at least there would be a witness to tell the story." "I will do you justice with the report, promise.", her laughter teased his ear as he shuffled out from underneath the bed and dimmed the light spilling out from the lamp he had previously turned on in his panic. "Will you avenge me?" "Does opening a bat sanctuary count?" "Absolutely not.", his eyes zeroed in on the bat. "I will think of something else then." "I'm out. I see it. Bad news is, I've left the bathroom door open." "Okay, so close it. Stick near the walls." "Copy that." John moved slowly, every U-shape round the bat made around the room, putting him on edge despite Sabrina's presence on the other line. He was becoming very aware of how exposed he was anytime it dipped lower towards the middle of the room while it sought a way out.

"Closed.", he whispered as he shut the door to the bathroom. "Excellent.", she crooned, and in another scenario he had no doubts about the effect the sound would have on his body. He gingerly went around the bat's flight path, aiming for the open window and pulling the curtain away the second he reached it. He plastered his body to the nearest wall as he watched the animal continue circling. "It's not leaving, Sabrina.", he complained in a hushed voice, knowing any loud noise could spook it further and make his situation worse. "Have patience." "Hard to, when every part of me is on display and within its range." His hand covered his lower regions on instinct as he watched it near the window, but he didn't dare speak his hopes out loud in fear of his usual luck kicking in. "I think it's working, Sabrina." She hummed in response. And then it finally happened - the bat zoomed out of the room, the sight making John rush forward and slam the window shut with a battle cry that most likely woke up his neighbors. "John?", Sabrina asked in amusement, "It's out, I pressume?" "Yes.", the breath he was holding left him as he fell back onto the bed, his body relaxing into the sheets when the adrenaline began to leave it. "Amazing! See, I knew you would manage it." John threw a hand over his eyes, the last couple of minutes replaying in his mind, "Thank you. For the help, I mean." "Of course. A civilian was in danger… it was my duty to assist." A smile finally broke free, "Just because of that?" "Well, you also promised me lunch, so… just making sure you don't die on me before that." "I'm sorry for waking you up." "It wasn't like I was asleep for that long either way.", with the issue resolved successfully, her voice was back to sounding nonchalant. The revelation gave him a pause, a smirk forming slowly as he pushed for more, "What were you doing up so late?" "A girl has to have some secrets, John."

I also finally got around to making an AU themed edit for them, if you have missed it:

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @thesingularityseries @corvosattano @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @g0dspeeed @fourlittleseedlings @voidika @madparadoxum @poisonedtruth @nightbloodbix @stacispratt @jillvalentinesday @cassietrn @chazz-anova @simplegenius042 @purplehairsecretlair @adelaidedrubman @dumbassdep @theelderhazelnut @strangefable @trench-rot @aceghosts @wrathfulrook and anyone else with something to share this week ❤️

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