OBSTACLE 01 . \

His gaze hitches and darkens at her approach, but Ismael’s distraction lasts only a couple of seconds. He continues to watch her as he places the filtered tip of his joint betwixt his teeth and grabs his lighter off the counter to light it.

Distraction bleeds back in as Ludo seats herself next to him, but he can easily blame that on the hashish, the alcohol, the half a line of white he enjoyed earlier. “It’s on tab,” he informs her, words mumbled around the joint in his mouth. “Order what you want.”

–

His cool response nearly makes her giddy— or maybe it’s the cocaine. Regardless, she knows she’s already under his skin. Having the upper hand, so to speak, makes it easier to ignore the knot in her stomach.

Ludo does order what she wants, and waits for him to say something else. He doesn’t. “That's it?” she prods, nudging his shin with her toe. To goad him further, she plucks the joint from between his fingers and places it between her own lips. “I don’t even get a hello?”

Of the few times she’s pried herself from her date’s side this evening, all had been to powder her nose in the bathroom. It’s only fitting that she’d run into him on her way back, still tonguing her numbed gums as she weaves her way through the tables. 

Ludo slows to a stop as she takes in his appearance, a smirk settled on her face by the time she meets his eyes. Her gaze flickers briefly over his head to search for Lonnie, but she’s already striding over to where Ismael is sitting— it would only take a few minutes to rub it in.

“Don’t you look handsome?” she purrs, helping herself to the seat beside him. Close, but not too close. Ludo crosses her legs and holds up her empty glass for him to see. “Buy me a drink?”

"I don't." The answer comes a bit too quickly to be anything but defensive. "—I have, in the past." It's a quick correction. A little slice of the truth, just enough to convince herself those toxic behaviors are in the past.

"I stand by the people I love, no matter what. Sometimes they're not good people, but— " she shrugs, "nobody is, all of the time."

“He knows the word shit better than anyone, trust me.” 

And how fucking annoying, to bring up his son when at a moment of weakness. To think Hans’s steel guard is too often challenged, taken as an unnecessary barrier which prevents a good friend from becoming a great one. “You fucking whore.” Beat. “Don’t talk about him again.”

Here stands an addict, and there presents his drug of choice — and the most innocent thing he knows dragged right into it, against his will. His gut churns, bleeding and maimed. It doesn’t matter if he’d loved Ludo under different circumstances. He doesn’t love her now.

Hans ducks away, before her snow-dipped fingers could draw any closer. Two palms pressed upon his eyes, then brushing all those unruly blonde strands backward. “Give me a fucking night off.” 

–

“Mmm,” she sniffs, side-eyeing him with a smirk, “you know I love it when you call me that.” It doesn’t matter how good of a performance she can give; Ludovica knows that he knows that his words cut deep. What may have been taken as playful banter before carries gravity now. It’s a weight heavy enough to make her sick to her stomach if she dares think on it too much. 

Hans doesn’t have to tell her ‘no’ twice. Ludo retracts her offer and rubs the finger against her own gums. You fucking whore. The words replay in her mind. In the middle of closing the baggie, she falters, even if only slightly, and decides to dip a nail in for one more generous bump.

The growing intensity of the numbness in her throat helps her ignore any emotion that may have threatened to bubble up. Instead of anger or offense, Ludo laughs. “Me? I didn’t ask you to waltz in here and help yourself to my cocaine, did I? Prick.” She closes the bag this time and stands up, starting to scan the area for anything possibly dropped or forgotten– by herself or others.

“If you just came in here to mooch and insult me, you can fuck off now.”

.

Her response almost knock the breath out of him. It’s simple and real and he’s just a little surprised that she’s agreed. After so long, it’s happening. They’re happening. Lonnie blinks and kisses her back, lifting her onto the counter with ease. He’s not sure exactly how to identify how he’s feeling. He’s overwhelmed and excited and a little bit terrified. He pulls away with a lopsided smile, letting out a breath, “Good. Then we’re goin’ for it. You and me, Ludo.” It’s a promise and a hope all in one.

Lonnie isn’t sure how this will all pan out, but for now, he’s decided to just be here, be with her now and not think about what may happen. He’s focusing on the happiness, “What am I gonna tell all my groupies?” He teases, hands resting on the sides of her thighs, “I’m a kept man… how’re they gonna recover?” He kisses her again, relieved that she’s still there, that she didn’t run away from him or from this. He hopes that he can be the kind of person that Ludo deserves. He wants them both to learn to not have to be so afraid of what they could be, even if it’s hard.

–

The elation she feels at hearing thpse words is quickly chased by shame, but she swallows it down. Ludo’s mind is a blur, but she feels too good to let in any of the bad. "You and me,” she repeats. Being happy is something she needs to learn that she’s allowed to do, and being loved is something she desperately craves. It’s easy to blur one desire with the other, especially in the safety of Lonnie’s ready and willing arms.

“Tell your groupies they can meet me right outside the ring,” she laughs, encircling both her arms and legs around him in embrace as she kisses him. “I’m strong— ” Ludo breaks away just enough to flex a bicep, toned from years on the pole, “I can beat a bitch if I have to.” 

Even when her laughs begin to morph into something more of periodic hums of pleasure between kisses, the grin on Ludo’s face doesn’t waver. Each time she presses her lips to his, she’s smiling against them. It’s a giddiness she hasn’t felt since she was a teenager. 

. 

He waits, stopping himself from saying anything further just yet. The ball is in her court. All he can do now is hope that she doesn’t run away from this or push him away any further. Lonnie swallows hard, nodding at her as she finally confirms that no, she doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t speak again yet, just listening. And he doesn’t disagree with so much of what she’s saying. He doesn’t know if he’s ready for this either, but he knows what he wants. He’s staring right at exactly what he wants, “Then stay.” Lonnie mumbles, pulling Ludo closer to him again, “Stay. I don’t know either, alright?” He’s scared too. He doesn’t want to fuck it up or push her away, “I just know how I feel.” 

He sets his hands on her sides, casting a soft gaze down in her direction, “I don’t wanna lose you either. I can’t lose you again.” Especially not now when this time around feels so different, when there’s no other person standing between them. 

“Be with me.” Lonnie murmurs, thumbs running back and forth against her sides, “Ludo… let’s be together, okay? I know there’s a lot to figure out and… I dunno if it’s gonna be good or if we’re good for each other… but I wanna be with you.” He leans down and presses his mouth to hers in a tender kiss, “Let’s just fuckin’ go for it… Yeah? Can we do that?” Ludo’s unpredictable. He knows that. But he feels like he knows her too and he love her, that’s a certainty. 

–

I just know how I feel. Therein lies Ludo’s internal struggle. She’s incapable of feeling without thinking about it— try as she might, she can’t help but obsess and dissect why she feels what she feels. She needs to find a root cause, some sort of confirmation that what she’s experiencing isn’t foolish or misplaced. It’s what leads her to one hollow escape after another, searching for easy highs and lows with even simpler explanations. It’s preferable to stay in a miserable situation, so long as she knows why she’s miserable; it’s risking these blindsighted emotions that paralyze her. The real ones. The ones that come and go beyond her control.

Seized by intense emotion of that very sort, Ludovica clings to Lonnie when she’d normally push him away. This time, she doesn’t have the strength to fight against it all. The urge to be loved and adored, to trust someone— she’s been repressing it all, and Lonnie’s hold is so tender that she can’t help but finally break down at his touch.

–

Mira was making her rounds through the crowd of people, especially to those that mattered, to see how they were doing. It also gave her an opportunity to see if she could pick up any conversation that could be important for her down the road. 

Taking a small break, she was making her way down the hall when she thought she heard a noise coming from a room. Curiosity always pulled at the Deputy Chief and she went to open the door, a rush of wind entering the room. “Excuse me?” She stood a little taller, her eyes raking over the room before they landed on the drugs. “And here I thought I would get a night off.”

–

The edge to the woman’s voice causes Ludo to pause, then quickly shift gears. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I thought you were going to be those teenagers again. They must have been in and out a dozen times already— I think the one had a bit too much hard cider.” She spares a good-natured eye roll. Hands still buried in her purse, she grabs blindly for anything but the rolled up bill she’d originally been searching for and comes up with a tube of lip gloss.

Ludo turns swiftly to the full-length mirror, seemingly oblivious to the cocaine on the counter beside her. Three quick swipes of gloss are applied before she meets the woman’s gaze in the reflection. For the first time, Ludo allows herself to glance down at the drugs. “Oh, god— well that explains it.” She turns her attention back to the lipstick application, silently hoping her performance comes off as convincing as she thinks it does. “Do you think we should toss that before they come back for it?”

—

“Yeah, yeah,” he scoffs, “I work at a bank. That shit’s not brand new.” There’s a long enough pause to suggest that Ludo might care enough about it to need those few extra seconds to have it sink in. Then, a step closer. “Fuck the trees.” 

It’s all nonsense, but he still listens. Light brows furrow at the exact point where they should, and when Hans studies her, it’s not in a kind way. Like you’ve died. 

Suddenly then, a memory that floods — a memory which is build of Hans and Adam, and a concern which was all too intimate.

I still wanna be able to get drinks, or do a bump when its a friend’s birthday, he’d told his husband once in crisis. I don’t wanna be the guy who can’t be around anything, you know?

The kiss to his cheek does little to iron her careless words over. “Yeah.” 

Is that who he is now?

The guy who can’t be around anything?

The only remedy awaits in a sharp white line, and he inhales it in one fell swoop. The rush is unmistakable, sharp. “Different year, same shit.” The filthy bill, passed back. “Cheers to that.”

–

The change in his mood is palpable. Ludovica meets his condemning stare with a challenging one of her own, eyebrow raised in indignation.

“‘Same shit?’” A dramatic pause. She looks him up and down. “I’m telling Henry.”

Ludo snatches the bill back from him as her smirk returns, easily brushing off the bad feeling. One long sniff, then she carefully swipes the mirror to collect the residue along her fingertip. She lifts the coated finger to hans in offering. A white flag of sorts. “You’re doing just fine, daddio. Give yourself a night off.”

—

“When I ask you a question,” Jacques is quick to remind her, “you answer me. Who gave you that?”

Bored, is what he finds to be a luxury — something which Jacques can grant to those who spent their lives struggling and fighting, never with a moment’s rest. In one way or another, everyone who works under his roof now was struggling when they’d found him. Ludovica included.

“Très bien,” he says through a heavy sigh. “I will put you on the field, as a test. Depending on how you do, I will decide where you stay — for good.” In Jacques’s world, no difference between this, and forever — and ever. 

–

The demand sends a chill down Ludo’s spine, subtly forcing her shoulders back further as the spark piques her interest. There it is: the dragon she’s always chasing, and just the hint of its tail— that fleeting feeling. It brings her up to the edge of her seat, eager, yet cautious. She looks through JJ, wary, as if that dragon had just disappeared into his eye sockets. 

“I did give you an answer.” Her words come clear and confident. She even takes the time to pause, daring to insinuate he’ll wait for her to continue. Two stubborn stares meet in the silence. Ludo traces her tongue along the inside of her cheek. “You just didn’t like it.” 

The smirk that’s been budding at the corner of her lips blossoms into one of blatant complacency, and she doesn’t bother to hide it. Prodding the beast.

“Really? Just like that.” Once again her fingers catch the chain near her collarbone, habitually stroking the length of it to ensure it’s resting properly against her skin. “Well then, what’s my first test?”

—

“I fucking knew it.”

Hans comes across her — across this — not by chance, but intent. He could smell sex and cocaine from a mile away. They’re both ingrained to Ludo like chique cologne. If there’s a marble or reflective surface available, then it will be snorted from. 

He’s doing ‘like, really well,’ also. But it’s New Years fucking Eve.

Slowly, he does meet her request, as he walks in and closes the door behind. “A bill? Whatever happened to ‘fuck the turtles’?” Hans drops down next to her, and snatches the hundred from between her fingers. Hans can’t help but notice, two lines have been set up. “Were you waiting for me?”

–

“Don’t worry. It’s brand new,” she notes of the hundred, “only ever to be used for this.” A grown woman, Ludovica has at least enough acumen to avoid disease via dollar bill. The pawed-up wads of cash she rakes in each night somehow always come back to her in crisp, clean notes, neatly banded as if straight from the bank. She’s never questioned it, as she never questions JJ— which, arguably, is what’s made her even more useful than her body. “Fuck the trees, I guess?”

Ludo narrows her eyes when he snatches the bill. “No, but the line was yours in spirit anyway. I always cut you a little extra. Like you’ve died. Then, I take it in memory if you.” 

She takes in his appearance, searching for anything wrong, or out of place—  because the scenario suddenly feels that way. To divert any chance of him scolding her for thinking of scolding him, Ludo places a greeting kiss to his cheek. “You look nice.”

There’s a drink in hand and a yearning for just a few minutes of quiet. Sam’s never been adverse to people and crowds — he spends a great deal of time around and within them. Even when he’s working, however, he almost always gets a break. Silence, however, would be hard to find tonight. With a raise of his brows and a sigh, he opts for the quieter option and closes the door behind him. It’s a slow approach to the woman with the bad habits. “You should probably lock the door behind you, next time. Lot of cops out tonight.” Something tells him, she doesn’t really care about all that. “That’s just Criminal Safety 101." 

–

Ludovica freezes and sits up straight, turning a scathing look on the stranger. Eyes narrowed, she gives him a lingering once-over that could make Miss America herself doubt her appearance. “Thanks,” she chirps, finally plucking the dollar bill from her purse, “narc.”

Unbothered by the disturbance, Ludo turns back to the mirror and presses a manicured finger to the side of her nose. One, then the other, right after the next. She lifts the compact mirror then to fix her hair, meeting the stranger’s eyes in the limited view of the reflection. “You can go ahead and lock it, then, if you don’t feel safe.”

Sobriety isn’t necessarily a goal, nor even a resolution, right now, but general improvement is. She’s been doing well  ( like, really well — ask anyone — )  in terms of cutting her usage down, but it’s New Year’s Eve. 

So, Ludovica finds herself in a familiar predicament: fumbling in her tiny purse for the rolled up $100 bill she’s already made use of tonight, two neat white lines cut up on the compact mirror in front of her. “Where the f– ”  In the midst of mumbling to herself, the chill of a draft against her bare legs suddenly becomes apparent. Ludo throws a careless glance over her shoulder and spots the door hanging ajar. “Close that fucking door please, would you? Come in, go— I don’t care, but it’s freezing. Pick one.” 

. 

“That’s bullshit.” Lonnie replies immediately to her claim of ‘just sex’. He swallows hard- pushing down the lump in his throat, “That’s complete bullshit, Ludo, and you know it.” He feels frustrated and angry and sad all at once at her attempts to push him away. To make it like there’s nothing between them. But Lonnie is determined not to let her. He’s stood by too many times and just let things between them just happen to him. He isn’t going to stand by now, “I dunno what I can say to change your mind, but I know you have feelings for me. You might spew a lotta lies- like right now- but I know what’s between us isn’t one, okay? I know you better than ya want me to. I know that scares you. So… fuck… say whatever ya want, but I know you care about me.” His mind immediately goes back to the night Ava stabbed him, the way Ludovica took care of him and made sure he was alright. Or the first time they came back together after her breakup, the immediate closeness that they couldn’t shut off. There might be plenty he doesn’t know about Ludo, but he knows enough to know when she’s being evasive, when she’s trying to fuck something up. And he knows she feels something for him, he’s sure of it. 

“So don’t tell me what I want. Not when you’re not even tellin’ the truth about what you want!” He shakes his head, “Because why are you here right now if you don’t want whatever this is? If you don’t wanna be here, then go. I know you’re not the type of person who likes to stay places you don’t wanna be.” He takes a step closer to her, grabbing her arm, thumb running along her wrist gently, “Go. If this is just sex, then leave. Right now. I’m not forcin’ ya.” Lonnie gazes down at her. He hates seeing her upset, especially in relation to him, but he doesn’t just want to fold and fold her into his arms. He waits, just looking at her. 

–

Ludo blinks in surprise, once again taken aback by the way he shuts her down so swiftly. It feels as though she’s been backed into a corner, and her weapon was just knocked out of her hands. Naturally, she hooks onto the first chance she gets to twist his words around: “I ‘spew a lot of lies’ ? What the fuck does that mean?” It’s clear her heart isn’t in the rebuttal; normally sharp and taunting, her eyes are wide and abashed. In a stark contrast, her next response spills out straight from her gut, no calculation. “Of course I care about you, Lonnie! Of course I care. Why do you think I’m here right now?”

Silenced by the harsh truth of his accusation, Ludo drops her gaze to the floor. It’s only when she feels his touch that she looks up at him again. The air between them grows heavier with each second that passes; every move is laced with hesitation, a foreign feeling when everything between the two of them usually comes so naturally. 

“I don’t want to go,” she finally admits, no louder than a whisper, timid yet pained. “I don’t want to be without you.” She twists her hand in Lonnie’s grasp to lace her fingers through his, glancing down at their conjoined hands before meeting his eyes again. “You’re right. I don’t know what I want. I don’t know if...” Squeezing his hand gives her the strength to continue. “I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t know if I’m any good for you. I— I'm scared,” she repeats. Her eyes are pleading for an answer that neither of them can confirm. Tentatively, Ludo reaches up to place her palms on either side of his face. “I don’t want to lose you again.”