#twc stuff

Adam strides purposefully into the bar, eyes narrowing as he searches the dim establishment for Detective MacKenzie, nose wrinkling against the smell of cheap beer.  He huffs in irritation when he is unable to immediately locate them.

He’s beginning his second scan of the bar when a pair of hands yank down on his arm.  Officer Poname is gazing up at him blearily, holding his arm for balance as she stretches up on her tiptoes.  

“They’re over there!”  She points to a far corner of the room and shouts in an attempt to be heard above the din of the bar.

Adam winces as her voice attacks his hypersenses and steps away quickly, pulling his arm from her grip as he does.  His gaze flicks in the direction of Officer Poname’s extended arm and catches a glimpse of the detective’s riotous black curls as they brush their hair over their shoulder, shaking their head and laughing as their long hair tickles their bare skin.  

The detective’s tattoos are usually covered, but tonight they have removed their flannel shirt and Adam is momentarily fascinated by the colorful ink and pale skin revealed by the detective’s sleeveless undershirt.

“They seem to be enjoying themselves,” Adam observes, wondering for the tenth time since he left the warehouse why he was called to save the detective from their bad decisions.

“Yeah, about that........” Officer Poname slowly drawls.  “There’s something going on.  They won’t tell me what it is, but I haven’t seen them this bad since......”

“Since?”  Adam prompts, impatient.

Officer Poname shakes her head and waves a hand, as if shooing the thought away.  “If Kieran wants to tell you about it, they will.  They point is, they’re drunk and in bad shape, and I’m not in any state to help them out right now.”

“I’m sure Specialist Agent Mason would have been happy to assist Detective MacKenzie,” Adam remarks dryly.

A strange look crosses Tina’s face.  “They told me not to call him,” she admits. “They said to call the.....” She trails off and her face flushes momentarily.  “They told me to call you.”

Adam furrows his brow, confused as to why Kieran wouldn’t want to call Mason, and even further confused at the small fluttering in his chest at the revelation that they had insisted he come to their aid.

“Well, uh, I’ll leave you to it then.”  Tina pats his shoulder and clumsily meanders off in search of another drink.

He shoulders his way towards the dark corner Detective MacKenzie is ensconced in, stopping in surprise when he sees they’re not alone.  Kieran is sitting with the reporter, more accurately, seated in his lap, both hands braced on his muscular chest as their fingertips toy with the buttons of his shirt.  Bobby’s fingers run through their hair, tangling in their curls and playing with the silver and leather hair beads scattered through the thick locks.

Pushing down a sudden surge of irritation Adam moves directly behind the duo’s chair and loudly clears his throat.  Bobby is the first to look up at him, eyes widening in surprise quickly followed by curiosity, undoubtedly wondering why Adam is there instead of Mason.

“Looks like you’ve got a visitor, angel.”  He smirks as he twists one of Kieran’s curls around his index finger.

“I’ve come to escort you home,” Adam announces, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Kieran twists to look at him over their shoulder.  They look angry, brows furrowed, lips parted to make a sarcastic remark, as per the usual course of their relationship with him.

As Adam braces himself for a confrontation he glances down to meet Kieran’s gaze.  Their eyes are glassy, pupils blown so wide the black nearly obscures the vivid emerald color of their irises.  Despite the fury that twists their features, their eyes are pained..........sad.

Adam takes a sharp breath, momentarily disconcerted by the pain that emanates from Kieran’s very being; washing over them in waves and threatening drown them.  He exhales shakily, overwhelmed by the sudden, intense urge to dive in and save them from the undertow.

Kieran inhales deeply and blinks several times in rapid succession, and when they meet Adam’s eyes again he’s relieved to see their usual smirk is back in place. 

“If you insist, Commanding Agent Du Mortain,” Kieran purrs.  They lean in and whisper something in Bobby’s ear.  Adam is only able to parse out a few words over the clamor of the other bar patrons, but whatever they say puts a large smile on the reporter’s face.  

Kieran places both feet firmly on the floor and stands, wobbling slightly.  Unthinking, Adam reaches out to steady the detective with one large hand on their shoulder.  As soon as he touches bare skin his body tenses.  Their skin is soft and so, so warm.  For some reason he had imagined that the tattoos would feel differently, that maybe the ink would texture their skin somehow, but all he can feel is smooth, unblemished skin.

“Hey!  Du Mortain!”  Adam gasps, startled out of his shockingly personal thoughts about the detective, and realizes that his hand is still firmly touching them.

Kieran gives him an infuriating smirk and a quick wink.  “Looking’s free, but touching will cost ya.”

Adam snatches his hand away from the detective and imperiously looks down his nose at them.  “Never fear Detective MacKenzie, I have no desire to touch you any longer than absolutely necessary to ensure your safety.”  

His stomach clenches and he frowns.  His words sounded so certain, but why did it feel like he was telling a lie?

Kieran shrugs into their flannel shirt and gives him a coy look.  “That’s what the pretty ones all say at first,” they murmur, patting his chest softly.  

Adam’s eyes widen at the casual touch and he huffs out an involuntary rush of air.  “Time to leave detective.”

Kieran turns to blow Bobby a kiss, then lazily waves a hand towards the bar’s exit.  “Lead on then, Du Mortain.” 

The chill of the outside air and a soft mist are a welcome change from the sour, fermented air of the bar and Adam inhales deeply to cleanse his lungs.  Next to him, Kieran has closed their eyes and tilted their head back, lips curled in a soft smile as the mist touches their skin.

Adam has never seen the detective look so happy.  No, not happy.  Unguarded.  Kieran has nearly as many personal defenses in place as he does, and to see them simply be is something he wants to savor.  He allows himself a few moments more before catching the detective’s attention.

Adam coughs loudly, prompting Kieran to open their eyes.  “If you’re quite through Detective MacKenzie, we need to proceed to your apartment.”

Kieran rolls their eyes and shoulders past him.  “Whatever you say, Du Mortain.”

“If you find my company that distasteful you could’ve called someone else to retrieve you,” Adam snaps, matching his steps to their.  “I’m sure Agent MacKenzie or another member of Unit Bravo-”

“Bleeding Christ, no,” Kieran snorts.  Adam blinks, taken aback by their vehemence.  “Those four are the very last fucking people I want to be around right now.”

Adam’s eyes widen.  “You want to be around me?”

“Shocked the shit out of me too, Du Mortain,” they chuckle.  “Nate and Felix would just look at me like I’m a wounded puppy and want to talk about how I feel.”  

They blanch, a faintly sickened look on their face at the very thought.  Adam feels a faint pang of empathy; the thought of having his feelings subject to the scrutiny of either Nate or Felix is enough to make him feel ill as well.  

“And we both know that they only time Rebecca has anything to do with me is if she needs something or when we have a case.  And Mason is only interested in what’s in my pants, not helping me out.”  Kieran glances over at him, anticipating his rebuttal.  

Adam opens him mouth, knowing he should put forth some form of token argument, but he can’t deny the truth of Kieran’s statement, so instead he asks, “Why call me then?”

“Because,” they sigh.  “You leave things well enough alone.  You don’t pick or prod trying to get me to open up about things I don’t want to talk about.  You just let me be.  And I appreciate that.  You’re the only one who does.”

The rest of the walk continues in silence as Adam ponders the detective’s statement.  He hadn’t considered it before, but he appreciated them for the very same reason.

The rest of the walk to Kieran’s apartment passes in a companionable silence.  Once they have the door unlocked they lean against the doorjamb and rake an appraising glance over Adam.  

“Wanna come inside?”  They ask, jerking a thumb towards their living room.  “We could have a proper sleepover, make hot chocolate and friendship bracelets and everything.”

 Adam’s eyes bulge in surprise and he takes a startled step back.  “You cannot be serious, detective.”

“Sure I am.  I’ve got a crafting kit left over from the last time I watched Verda’s girls.”  Kieran waits a beat then dissolves into giggles.  “You should have seen your face, Du Mortain.”

Adam’s shoulders sag in relief, but for the second time this evening a faint pang of disappointment resonates in his chest.  He quickly shakes the feeling off.  “I trust you can handle yourself from here, Detective MacKenzie?”

Kieran smirks and gives him a lazy salute.  “Absolutely, Commanding Agent Du Mortain.”  They sober for a moment.  “But seriously, thanks for coming to walk me home.  You’re a regular knight in shining armor.”

Adam rolls his eyes in annoyance and turns to leave.

“Hey Adam?”  Kieran’s voice is soft, hesitant.

He turns, an eyebrow quirked in curiosity.  “Yes, detective?”

Their eyes are hazy now, glassy with unshed tears.  “Why don’t they want me?”

Adam’s brow furrows as he attempts to work out who Kieran is talking about.  A few moments too late he works out that they’re referring to Mason and Rebecca.  

Kieran has taken his silence as something other than momentary confusion, and nods as they smile sadly.  “Yeah.......I wouldn’t want me either.”

“Detective,” Adam begins, his throat clenching as they roughly rub the cuffs of their shirt over their eyes in attempt to stop their tears from falling.

They shrug in a half-hearted attempt to reassure him.  “Goodnight, Adam.”  They silently withdraw into the darkness of their apartment and shut the door.

⚠ : How does your muse react to possibly dangerous situations? Do they face them head-on, or do they plan out their actions first?

Zae: tries to talk their way out of it, firstly. they’re a bit more on the impulsive side for high stress situations, but they dislike that about themself and try to plan things through better. will generally always try to create peace first though, and really hates having to fight. Violca: internally tells herself to shut up, stay calm, and think. generally good at detaching herself from the situation and mentally planning things out (as befitting the knowledge/deduction MC). Khalilah: same boat as Violca, but a lot more easily scared than she is. usually refuses to go into things without a plan, and can flounder a bit if she has to stray from said plan for any reason. Trish: wings it, usually. gets angry if she’s in danger, or somebody else she loves is in danger, and is ready to throw down to keep people safe.

🏨  : How well does your muse sleep?

Zae: they were prone to insomnia even before the Murphy thing happened. after Murphy? it’s not great. they do their best with sleep supplements and white noise, but it’s definitely an uphill battle. Violca: has the longest process of getting ready for bed, on account of her prosthetic. also a bit of a restless sleeper, but only Verda and Tina are aware of it. Khalilah: generally pretty well, but the incident with Murphy has given her her own share of restlessness. the events of book 2 have added to it as well, even if that arguably ended better for everyone involved. Trish: heavy sleeper who’s out for the night once she goes to bed, but struggles to get there. she drinks a lot of caffeine and doesn’t like to be alone with her thoughts.

εїз : How does your muse feel about bugs and insects?