—Scrappy

She asked if the tablet had given her away, and despite herself, Fei laughed. “Among other things,” she smirked. She didn’t want to make a habit of this - she would almost definitely lose her job - but she was more comfortable going along with a lie for a moment than she was sending a hurt person hobbling to the hospital. And anyway, a person’s reason for lying was usually also their reason for keeping secrets. 

“Well, it’s good to meet you, Phoebe. There’s a lot of ethical and legal grey area here, but… nobody’s being harmed by this. It’s not like I have a lineup of sick children that you’re taking time from, and you’re not asking for painkillers, so I think we’re okay. That being said, I did not give you that bandage. You were passing through and limping and I gave you ice, that is all. Deal?”

**

She decided right then and there that she liked Nurse Davenport very much. In fact, she seemed like the kind of lady who might be fun to have a drink with, which Phoebe was allowed to think as she was not, in fact, a high school student - despite how she looked (and often felt). “Deal,” she nodded. “And sorry for lying...” She did feel bad for that, especially since the other woman was being so cool about it. “I’m really poor, if it’s any consolation. Freelance. Student loans. I mean, you seem too nice to appreciate the misfortune of others, but I also can’t say I would blame you. Schadenfreude is real...” 

some people would be shocked by how well they knew one another and the fact that they were just friends. but, really it was more than that. it was a best friend ship. they were soulmates basically. platonic or not. timmy would leave it just so.. no matter how much he enjoyed thinking about it being more than what it was now. but, he knew it wouldn’t be so. there was no possible way that phoebe could feel the same and he wasn’t willing to ruin what they had going on. 

“please. i feel like i’m stronger than that.” he joked, she was absolutely right. he had a weak stomach and could never. he liked to pretend the truth being hard to swallow. timothy was never the strong type when it came to food.. or much else. he went over to their usual spot as she commanded. he was used to taking the redheads orders. simply following her rule like a lost puppy. 

when she cut right to the chase. he huffed, he knew it was going to happen. she was always so concerned and never let things go. “i guess. i don’t know. just kind of.. blah?” he replied, not really sure. “i like my job i guess today just wasn’t my day. i fell in the shark tank and– it was just a lot.” 

**

One would think that as a girl who loved mysteries, once Phoebe knew everything there was to know about a person, she would get bored and move on. And that was true to an extent - it only took her 4 months dating Mitchell Stevens in college to realize there was nothing beneath the tortured exterior and drop him like a bad habit. And it was just one night and a failed hook up with Belinda Myers from PoliSci that ended with them both curled over the toilet bowl to learn just how quickly intrigue could die and never be revived again. But Tim? Timmy was an exception to every rule. 

There was an underrated intimacy that came from truly knowing a person - understanding the way they worked and thought and viewed the world. She could never get bored of him, just as she never could get bored of any of the other best parts of herself. It verged on the almost terrifying, when she really thought about it - how much they were intertwined. Knowing and being known at your best and your best, even when you didn’t want it...  

“Shit, are you okay?” she asked, her brow furrowing in concern. Obviously, he was still in one piece, but hearing her best friend had ended up in a tank was a creature that would not hesitated to kill him was disconcerting to say the least. Her immediate instinct was to track down the cause and make sure it never happened again. “Have you been sleeping? Eating enough? Drinking enough water? Caffeine - too much or too little can fuck with your coordination... ” 

Calla had been out walking, trying to clear her head from whatever shit show was happening at the Blackwood’s company, that she’d been roped into solving for them. It really wasn’t something she was enjoying doing, per se, but it paid her rent and she got to be in the midst of the biggest family drama she’d imagined. She happened to stumble upon Phoebe while grappling with her purse to find a pack of cigarettes; that’s a bad habit you need to kick, her grandma would have told her, in Swedish. She glanced over the obviously inebriated woman and smirked, “Are you waiting for someone else…?”

**

“Nope,” she said, popping her ‘p’ exaggeratedly. “I’m feeling like a ‘take what the universe gives you’ kinda evening, and it looks like you’re it. You in?” 

Maybe Lily should’ve waited a little bit to go out until her body clock re-adjusted to the time zones. But the warm weather and a desire to not be cooped up inside her home got the better of her, with the woman currently sitting on a bench overlooking the ocean on Florence Beach. A voice that was too happy for her aura announced something about a party and stolen booze, pulling Lily out of her daydream. “And what’s the occasion?” Lily asked the younger woman, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not in the partying mood, but I’m also not going to kill your vibe if you decide to consume it here.”

**

“Does one really need an occasion?” she replied in what could only be described as the tone of a consummate little sister. “The weather’s nice. We’re young - ish -” she added teasingly, only for Lily’s benefitted, “-and healthy. And I’m not taking no for an answer. At least take a sip - I don’t want to be the only one culpable when my dad blows a gasket.” 

“Maybe I’m just trying to be mysterious,” Jack countered with a boyish grin. With his eyes still on her, he watched as the pink-tinted hue kissed her cheeks. It was a good color on her, he decided, his grin widening. He thought better of pointing it out, though, content to let himself believe that it was because of him. 

Aside from his solo bike trip, he’d never been so starkly alone before. And it was strange that it was in moments like this– in the small moments of contentment when banter came naturally and he found himself leaning in, intrigued– that he seemed to remember the loneliness. But this, right now? It felt nice. So he leaned into it.

He waggled his brows a little when she told him she had a proposition for him before sputtering out a laugh at her suggestion. “I just said I was trying to be mysterious!” He said, throwing up his hands in mock exasperation, gaze still lingering before he let it slide to her plate of fries and back again. “But you drive a hard bargain. Deal. Two things, though. First, prepare to be disappointed because I don’t think I know the meaning of the word shame. And second–” He slid his hand towards her plate, trying to pluck a fry free before she had the chance to stop him, “–the first one’s free.”

**

“Yes, yes, you did say, but I grew up idolizing Nancy Drew so either you tell me now or I go digging through your dumpster and figure it out anyway,” she teased haughtily. She purposefully left out the part about making a career of mysteries - P.I.s could make people jumpy and she quite liked the atmosphere they’d built up already. She listened readily to his terms, smirking when he claimed to not know shame. This she could get behind - after all, her mother said the same thing about her on a nearly daily basis. She mock-glared when he stole a fry, but couldn’t deny there was something obnoxiously attractive about the smug look on his face. It felt like a challenge she was eager to rise to. 

“Sneaky, sneaky. Quick fingers, I see...” There were several avenues she could take. The obvious: his name, but that was just boring and felt like a gimme. The only slightly less obvious was the logical next step: What brought him to Crescent Harbor in the first place? She wanted to know, and that would certainly be one of her questions, but right off the bat? No, she had to be more creative than that. Which left only one other possible question, one that followed from that fast move and triumphant smile: “You ever been arrested?” There was a playful glint in her eye and a quirk of her brow that promised no judgement for his answer. It would be hypocritical anyways, considering all her brushes with the law.  

“You do know you could’ve just asked me for booze and I would’ve easily supplied it. What am I if not a terrible-terrible influence?” Ty smirked wiggling his eyebrows at Phoebe. “So what’s got you in the partying mood, Phoebe Drew?” While he was glad to see her in better spirits, he couldn’t help but wonder what brought this about. “Speaking of partying, where the hell are we gonna go? You thinking of crashing someplace or?”

**

“Yeah, but where’s the fun in that? Let me live this cliche,” she pouted, clutching the bottle territorially, as though Ty had somehow offended its existence. “Well, if you must know, I solved my latest case - it was totally boring and totally time consuming, so I am celebrating never again having to think about it.” If she knew now what all would go into it, she might have even initially turned it down, though she was really not in a position to throw away any revenue stream. “The weather’s finally nice enough for the beach - I was thinking about starting a fire out there, maybe performing a pagan ritual? I dunno, I didn’t think that far ahead...” 

“i would assume humans are more interesting to study in their natural habitat.. like ocean studies.. but y’know us.” he stated, climbing onto his bike. thinking about how he much preferred his six month study on jelly fish migration over seeing them in the aquarium. “and i’m sure you would eventually protest ‘some probing’ after a while.” he laughed a bit.. then she mentioned minimal probing during pizza and he laughed harder. she was one of the only people who could make him laugh hard.. or he would show that side too. “good because i don’t think the other customers would appreciate that during dinner.”

and with that they were off to by the slice. it was a short ride and thankfully the weather was forgiving this evening. there was small banter back and forth on aliens as they rode the city streets to the establishment. their usual since they were young. when they pulled up they both parked their bikes against the building and began their way inside. “after you.” he said holding the door, “i’m starved.. i could eat a pizza on my own.”

**

Timmy was perhaps the only person in her life she never worried about going ‘too far’ with. Sometimes her parents looked concerned when she told them the latest story of her exploits, or Lara’s face screwed up in disapproval when she made a bad joke, and even with Mason there were moments of startling clarity when she realized she had to be the adult in the relationship. None of that ever came with Tim; she could be as free and as weird as she wanted, and never worried about feeling judged. She joked effortlessly their entire ride to the restaurant, knowing exactly what to say to get him to laugh, and him knowing the same. 

That same laughter following them into the venue, Phoebe rolling her eyes at his exaggeration. “You say that, but give it two hours and we’re taking a trip to the drug store for Pepto... You wanna get our table and I’ll order the usual?” she asked, not waiting for an answer before going up to the register. The two of them were regulars by now and after a quick chat with the owner she made her way to the booth, two cokes in hand. There was no need for small talk between the two of them, so she cut right to business.

“Okay, so touché on getting me distracted with the alien talk - that was a nice touch - but what’s up really? Bad day?” 

Julia gave a little giggle. “A castle would probably be lots of fun,” she said. “I visited Hampton Court once, it’s so funny because basically one half of the castle is Tudor architecture, and then you walk through and its an entirely different style. It’s like a little time machine.” She grinned. “Really? That would be so fun! I’ll bake car trip snacks.”

**

“You got yourself a deal. Just text me a date - I’ll clear my schedule.” Just then an alert dinged on her cell, reminding her she had an appointment to get to. “And, that’s my cue. See ya around, yeah?” 

✦ *

“you’re the only person i know who would want to be abducted.” he said rolling his eyes playfully with a laugh, “come on, can you blame me tho? i didn’t want to subject you to the endless testing of the human mind.. because i don’t think they’d ever be able to figure out what you’ve got going on up there.” which was true he didn’t want anything bad to happen to phoebe ever. because that would hurt him knowing she was hurt. even their feelings at this point were codependent on one another. after all this time you could only imagine.

he just shook his head after she plopped his helmet down and began unlocking his own bike. “how’d you know i was in the mood for pizza?” truly was always in the mood for pizza but who isn’t. “therapize me? sounds scary. maybe just the pizza.” he laughed. 

**

“Who wouldn’t want to get abducted? Experience first hand another life form? Yeah, there’s some probing, but you get to meet aliens. Anyone who says otherwise is just boring or jealous,” she mused, fitting her own helmet on her head now. It was an easy stance to take in the hypothetical. In reality, she’d probably hate it - she’d miss her family, hate the rigid structure of being a lab rat, and if Timmy wasn’t there right beside her she’d probably start a riot. But it was endlessly fascinating in theory, when the only concrete part was the mystery to be solved. 

She kicked her leg over the bike so she was straddling it, ready to take off whenever he was. “Because who isn’t always in the mood for pizza?” she said, rolling her eyes for good measure. “No promises, but I swear I’ll be more gentle than the aliens. Minimal probing...” 

The brunette was eternally grateful for the presence more than anything. It had pulled her out of her head and she hadn’t been instantly judged for being a bad dog mom. That would have broken her heart to bits. “I like your name.” She said as she wiped herself off and took one last look at Arlo. He was fine. She’d have to go hunt down a dog park later on when she wasn’t still shaking from the recent events. “I could use one and the company so you’re actually doing myself and Arlo a favor.” Cris smiled. “I know of a few good places but I haven’t been here in a while so if you know of a good cafe, I can follow your lead.”

**

She understood the impulse - she’d never gotten far from Crescent Harbor, but even for her it could feel isolating at times. If it weren’t for her family and Timmy, she’d feel completely rudderless. She didn’t do well without company and constant mental stimulation. “Yeah, there’s a place about three blocks from here that’s good. Dog friendly, too, so we’re in luck.” She pointed the general direction of the store and started walking. “So... I take it you’re new here?” 

John tried not to raise a brow at just how much sugar the woman put into her coffee – it was clearly none of his business but he almost seemed impressed by the dedication and the fact that there were in fact people who had a sweeter tooth than he had, apparently. He reached for his own, adding two cubes before stirring and taking a sip as he gave a hum. “Yeah, these kinds of pieces usually do better here since you can reach higher prices, depending on who bets on them. We have fixed rates, especially if the gallery is buying and not just displaying,” the man explained, a gentle smile on his lips as he waved her off. “No problem at all but yes, I believe there’s a popular one in Seattle so he if he didn’t want to make a far drive, that’s most likely where he’d be able to sell it next. I think if he went ahead and tried to sell it online, it’d be easier to find,” he explained with a nod. “So if I was him? And I didn’t have any luck in a local gallery? I’d most likely go to auction houses next – those are a good place to buy and sell art.”

**

It probably would have been much easier for her if he had tried to sell it online, but apparently his desperation hadn’t affected his intelligence the way she’d hoped it would. Then again, if he had, she wouldn’t have a job right now... She hadn’t expected this job would be easy, but then again, very few of them actually were. “Cool, that’ll be my next stop, then. I’m sure I can google search it, but any suggestions on which ones to start at? Or names of contacts?” 

✦ *

having a friend like phoebe was exactly why timmy was around still.. she just kept him in a straight line. “hmm, well i’ll just hope for the latter.” he hummed, pulling her in a bit as they walked to the rack. “i’m not spacey.” he replied, with a huff at their childhood nickname. one he disliked but she loved so he let it slide. “i mean, i am.. but i don’t know why. maybe just work and life– maybe i was taken by an alien last night and they took my brain.” he pondered, “that does happen, you know?” he knew it wasn’t true but he couldn’t help but tease phoebe for prying when even he himself didn’t know the answer. “maybe i’m just going crazy.” he suggested as they reached the rack.

he pulled his arm from around her and pulled out her bike first. “just don’t tell anyone, alright. i don’t need either of my sisters thinking i’m going insane… or my mom. i can see her running test as soon as she finds out.” 

**

Phoebe gave out a rather indecent snort. “You would get abducted by aliens. But don’t come looking to me for sympathy, because I’m honestly offended you didn’t at least try to convince them to swing by and pick me up, too.” It was a joke borne out of a kernel of truth - when it came to Phoebe and Timmy, one rarely went where the other couldn’t follow. They hadn’t gone a day without at least texting since Phoebe had been sent to that all-girls sleepover camp the summer before high school. Life without him was inconceivable - like breathing without air. 

They existed around each other with an unpracticed ease. She waited while he pulled out her bike because he always helped her first, and at this point it had become an unconscious habit. Just like she grabbed his helmet and plopped it playfully on his head. “You’re not going crazy,” she assured him. “Maybe just stressed... I actually came to tell you I got paid today, so how about we go to By The Slice, eat way too much cheese and grease, and I’ll properly therapize you until we get to the bottom of it.” 

Jackson’s brows rose at her dumpster suggestion, lips parted in a grin as he waited for the punchline. …Only to realize there wasn’t one. He wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but that hadn’t been it. Jack hailed from a comfortably upper middle class family, dumpster diving had never exactly crossed his radar. Was this a new hard line? “If I could talk my way past security,” Jack repeated with an amused scoff. “Of course I can. Look at me, I’m charming.” His grin widened, eyes crinkling at the corners to nurture the façade. “But I don’t know that I’m Dumpster Desperate quite yet. I’ve got some money to tide me over for a few more days. But I’ll keep that one in mind.” He tapped his temple as if the action alone would cement the suggestion to memory.

His smile slipped a little at the mention of Fear Knot. He knew little about this little town– he’d only been here a few days, after all– and less about Ryder Irving. But what he did know was that Fear Knot was the likeliest place to run into his brother. And though it was the entire reason he was even here, he still wasn’t ready for that. Not yet.

His eyes flicked back to her, studying the lines and planes and curves of her face. Maybe the risk was worth the reward. It wasn’t like Ryder knew who he was. “$2 beer, huh? I mean, that’s a bit rich for my blood, but I think I can swing it. Maybe I’ll even be a proper gentleman and buy the first round.”

**

She took a sip from her milkshake, savoring the chocolatey goodness as it spread across her tongue. She’d splurged to make it a malt, and it’d definitely been the right decision. “Too rich for the dumpster, but too poor for shitty beer. You better watch out, or I might have to think you’re giving out mixed messages,” she smirked. Was she flirting? There was very little difference between her regular banter and flirting - the only real change in the equation being the addition of an admittedly cute guy. She saw his eyes scan her features, and she cursed her fair complexion as she felt her cheeks heating. 

One of the downsides of living in a small town was that it was hard to escape a role once it’d been assigned to you. When most everyone already knew who you were, they expected you to stay fundamentally the same. For Phoebe, she had always been known as the youngest Winter and, at some point, being the baby had become one of her defining characteristics. She used that, largely, to her own advantage, but it was nice to meet someone new, who saw her only as the woman she was now. There was something exhilarating about the feeling. 

“I’ve got another proposition for you: less degrading than the dumpster, but hopefully just as embarrassing. 20 questions, and for every answer, I’ll give you a fry.”