behind sly wit

     well - - this is a first! the only times rachel amber has interacted with cops have been a) at an environmental rally that got out of hand, b) a few awkward meetings with chloe’s step-dad, c) a few parties that got shut down for underage drinking, and d) that one time she shoved a cop who had tried to beat up some kid at a different environmental rally. so - all in all? not great experiences.      but she’s lost as fuck and would like to get back to the white house before dark because she still has no clue where anything is in this town. so cue as not-awkward a smile as she can manage as rachel approaches the uniformed man. “uh - ‘scuse me, officer? do you have like, two minutes?”

   “ where are you, carrots? ”    he grumbles over the rustle of newspaper as he flips a page. he’s situated so that the hood of the police vehicle takes some of his weight, one boot-clad foot tapping the ground in irritation that’s truly a judy-hopps number --- damn that woman is rubbing off on him. the voice has him perking up immediately, expression brightening and brain not quite registering that said voice is definitely the wrong pitch to be his coffee delivery.    “ uhh --- “    he has to pick up the corners of his lips after they fall in disappointment, slapping on that $100 smirk that’s always at the ready.    “ yes, of course. what can i do for you, sweetheart? ”    someone tell him that not everyone loves terms of endearment.

  shoulders drop from their tense state ( with thanks to his comforting touch ) and lips stretch to flash that infectious smile of hers, a small show of gratitude to the bartender as she takes a beer ( she could just pretend to drink that, right ? ) “ sorry, sweetie. you’ve gone out your way to take me out tonight and here i am sulking in the corner “ —– so they were a couple now, apparently. she supposed she could work with that; i mean, how hard could it be to act completely smitten with the guy ? ( after all, he did have his redeeming qualities, and his face wasn’t all that difficult for judy to look at ) hey, she even had that look of love down to a t, already —- you know the one, glimmering hues, bashful smile…

   “ that’s my girl. ”    gah, that line is gross and he cannot believe he just used it. too bad he can’t just shove that sentence back into his mouth. he can however, busy himself with grabbing his own beer and guiding them away from the bar.    “ twenties, dark-hair, and male ----hmmm? ”    he inquires unnecessarily in a barely muttered undertone into her ear.    “ what else do we know of our mystery subject? ”    he’s close enough, arm still slung around her that to an outsider it looks nothing more than a sweet exchange------    “ -----oh, and laugh like i just said something funny. ”

     lips part & she gasps as if the worst has happened — pessimist ? no, judy prided herself on being anything but; she would not be negative nancy. “ we don’t need to in amongst all the sweaty, drunken… “ ( get to the point, judy ) “… people to have fun… we can tons of fun standing right here ! “  — there, that was smidgen of positivity, wasn’t it ? but not enough to keep him happy, she imagined. cue the eye roll, folded arms and the drawn out resistance of surrendering to him. “ …okay, fine. but no shots ! we’re still working, remember ? “

   “ yes, yes, so you’ve said. ”    exasperation that colors tones is still more mock than anything. he can see her doubt, of course --- it would be hard for green irises to not read it in the lines around her nose, the pitch of her voice, and the way her eyes flicker around in a way that suggests she’s not just looking for their man in question ( speaking off, he should be doing just that, looking, but the night is young and the seedy sorts don’t like to come out til the sun has surely died ).    “ loosen up, sweetheart --- they’re going to think i’m mistreatin’ you. ”     the endearment is partially because he’s CONCERNED, mostly because the bartender has finally come around with his requested beers. ( and yea, that arm around securely around her bare shoulders, that’s totally just for show --- totally ). 

it wasn’t an unusual thing for there to be doubles in this town. he’d come face to face with two other men that had the same face as obi-wan had. when it came to seeing your own double, however, there was something that was a bit unnerving. the man had shorter hair than he did ( he hadn’t had his own hair that short since his padawan days ). the only other difference was the specs of yellow in his eyes. ( anakin was so close to finding the balance he sought ). well, that and the obvious lack of a metal hand. though his was covered by the glove that he wore even in the normal clothing of this world. hand moved to the lightsaber at his side, ready to activate it at a moments notice. “—who are you??”

   look into a MIRROR  ( or any remotely shiny and reflective surface ) and you see yourself, and most times you don’t really like what you see --- not that nick would admit he spent much time looking into mirrors. this experience, however, was nothing like looking into a mirror --- more like, viewing a recorded video many years later and seeing how you’ve changed ( only in this case, in reverse ). it’s DISCONCERTING, moreso than most people let on, to see someone wearing your face that isn’t you or your long-lost twin. it’s even more disconcerting to nick because there’s this look in the other’s murky eyes, like he’s seen things and done things and has never really learned to LAUGH properly. so forgive the ex-fox for not responding right away, green hues and jaw frozen in an expression somewhere between shock and pity.      “ nick wilde --- you are?? and is the laser toothpick really necessary here? ”

    the music had reached deafening volumes, at least three extremely sweaty males had now made skin-to-skin contact & to make matters worse ( if that were even possible ) she had somehow managed to squeeze herself into the most unflattering, and well… inappropriate, of dresses. sigh, the lengths a girl would go to her for her job. “ —– now remember, we’re looking for a male, early-twenties, dark hair. you got that ? male “ extra emphasis there… you know, just in case his gaze might have wandered,  “ and let’s not forget we’re here to work, not have a good time. “ 

   a chuckle is her only warning before hands land in a firm, friendly grip on her shoulders and he adds in words low and mockingly hushed,     “ but carrots, sunshine, pessimist ------how are we supposed to fit in if we’re not having fun? “     cue that smirk that’s always lingering just under his lips, easily called to the surface in the way that clouds always part to reveal the sun.      “ c’mon, lighten up!! ”     okay well, maybe it’s a little easier for him to say that, comfortably clad in jeans and a button down left undone at the top.

“this club is so dope.” blaine laughed at his own words, clutching onto the other for support. “i sound like a college frat.” what he thought was a manly chuckle really came out as nothing more than a giggle. “damn that guy over there is so damn…tall. and i’m so very small. man my genes suck.” he frowned before downing a drink he didn’t remember getting.

   look, the only reason nick is in this sort of place --not that he finds issue with such things-- is because he’s supposed to be scouting something out, looking for leads, or something on that order. anyways, he’s out of his uniform and it’s almost like the old days before there was a sense of morality in his life. but work or no work, he really did not sign up for this. it’s none to gently that he extracts his arm ( notouchingnotouchingnotouching )    “ are you even twenty-one? ”    he’s more curious than anything --after all, a fake id is the least of all the things conmen do.

“why don’t you tell me more about this person. are those traits how everyone describes her because that’s who she is? or are those words that only you use to describe her?” it was the natural curiosity that drove to even approach the guy. however, to talk to him that was the novelist inside her. it was like when she first ‘met’ peter and asked him all those questions. 

   “ whoa, miss inquisitor, slow down the questions there ----and really, is it that important? no, no it isn’t. ”    there’s the ever arching brows, lips curled into an easy smirk ( but there’s a bit of a guarded look in emerald irises as well ). he also really doesn’t know: it isn’t his job to question why he describes judy as he does ( it’s out of fondness, really, and that’s that ).

The other’s words made Finn pause. Aura. He had no idea what that meant. But if this man could sense the other’s presence well, it sounded a lot like the force to him. His eyes widened in wonder, a smile curling on his lips. He only ever met a few people who had ‘it’, it always left him intrigued, and maybe a bit fearful. “You’re strong with the force too?!” He questioned out of curiosity – almost forgetting why exactly he was here until the other asked. “Oh uh, that. I was just wondering well, how you’d get a job here??” He mumbled, with a shrug. He didn’t even know why he asked, this world around him just left him with a lot of questions (even more than usual). “But honestly, don’t feel like you even have to answer. I really don’t mind helping. It would give me something to do, to be of use.”

   um...what is this kid rambling about? who knows? not nick, that’s for sure. clearly he’s been a secluded a bit in his youth and hasn’t quite learned all the typical figures of speech.      “ -----sure. ”     he says, but in that hesitant, questioning sort of way that says ‘ believe whatever you want, kid. ’ probably not the model behavior for an officer of the law, but nick’s morals have always been a little shaky and who is he to crush the hopes and dreams of such a young’in? the curl of lips comes back a bit more genuine after that.     “ you talk to people, kid; and don’t be shy. ask if they’re looking to hire. or make your own means of getting money ---no shame in that, though i suppose now that i have the badge that means i’ll have to arrest you for tax evasion if you don’t pay them. ”

    violet hues roll to the back of her head —- she’ll let him think he has the victory this time ( he can learn a lesson or two from her about taking one for the team ) & she’d knock the long arm from around her shoulder if it weren’t so annoyingly comfortable. their height difference had its perks — well, one perk — great cuddles. ( not that you’d hear her admit that ) “ —- well, partner, this nice lady here “ lunatic would have been a more appropriate word “ …was informing me of her missing cats, all ten of them. i was trying to calmly reassure her, before i was interrupted… “ she’ll smirk again, “ but if you think you could do a better job of calming her hysteric self, then be my guest. “ he walked himself right into that one, & judy loved it. 

     using his suave ex-conman abilities on a crazy cat lady isn’t exactly what he had in mind for this afternoon’s entertainment ( perhaps he’d have to have yet another conversation with the chief about giving them more lucrative cases beyond cat ladies ). and this very thought shows, that smirk flattening into a grim line ( very much the same expression from ' actually, it’s your word against yours ’ ).    “ uh...i think ‘ trying ‘ might be the keyword in that sentence. you see -----wait, wait, can i just ask a quick question here---- ”    head turns slightly, back bowing as he mutters into her ear.    “ who even has ten cats? that’s not normal. ”