i'll cheers to that.

    becky hadn’t really known if she was going to call nell until it happened. this trapper case resurfacing, it’s disturbed a lot of shit, brought a bunch of old memories back to the forefront. most of them, she’d rather forget. 

    but then she’d gotten that message from nell and, well, some things can’t stay buried.

@trappered  /  call.

         “ do i look suspicious to you? ”  it’s a bit of a joke ( which comes rarely from dareth ) as he’s approached by the cop here. wait – the detective.  “ i get that a lot. think it’s the scars on my face? ”

(   txt » rebecca m.   )     doesnt make sleep any less necessary (   txt » rebecca m.   )     You must be glad to be travelling to the land of mattress fires eh (   txt » rebecca m.   )     Wonder how much that saves them on heating

(   txt » rebecca m.   )     yeah the place with the French toast I like. Unless you have suggestions?

@trappered | cont.

     nell’s still half in disbelief that that asshole had managed to catch her off guard for long enough to land a hit on her when she feels it. ( whatever it is. ) it’s like someone had hit pause for a moment long enough for her to realise that it was something, but not long enough for her to figure out what. and before she’d had a chance to even try, it had gone.

     before she knows it, becky’s back to cleaning her up, back to calling her out for shit-talking, and nell’s back to being reminded that no matter how many times she takes a hit, it doesn’t hurt any less.

          “ i’ve had worse, believe it or not, ” she retorts. “ and my good looks ain’t been ruined yet, right? ”

    somehow, that doesn’t surprise her. maybe it’s the twin brother thing, maybe it’s because she’s a cop and also the kind of woman who attracts a little trouble. it doesn’t matter. becky can completely believe that nell’s dealt with worse than getting punched. 

    all the more reason to give her shit, if you ask her. 

( @trappered  /  cont. )

        this is all very…pleasant, isn’t it? he’s being polite, she’s being polite—only nothing much is being said, of any significance, because nate has no real answers for her, and is even less willing to spill the corps’ secrets like candy at halloween. he wants to help, sure; his entire job is to stop bad guys doing bad things, and that’s not so different to what the police do.

        but this is his territory.

        and if she thinks he’s not analysing her in return, she’s got another think coming; nate’s hardly an expert, he doesn’t know how to profile, but he’s pretty good at reading people. and he knows how to survive an interrogation much worse than this.

        ❝ perhaps you’d prefer to speak to my commanding officer, detective. i can get you his number. ❞

    it’s always rough, dealing with the military types. especially when there’s more than one of them. she gets looking after your own-- hell, she’s police-- but, jesus. these guys really take it to the next level. you’d think she was trying to frame them or something. 

    fuck. with all those rumours going around about her, fick might have every reason to think she is. ( fuck that asshole calvary. every time she remembers the shit he’s done to make her life more difficult, she’s almost happy he’s dead. ) there’s no time to linger on any of that, though. she’s got a job to do.

    “I didn’t think you stayed for my wonderful vocabulary, sweetheart,” Even amused with herself, Stella leans back in her chair, which creaks under her weight. She doesn’t mind Becky. For a cop, she’s not all that awful. Besides, a friend on the side of the law can be helpful. Sometimes. Besides, it makes being at this dumpy diner a little easier. 

   “What’d they get you doin’ this time?” She’s curious of course; it’s harder when she becomes the topic of discussion. “Heard Dotty’s granddaughter’s gonna be having a baby in June. Hopefully it mellows that cow out.” Even before she’s into the tequila, Stella is all no-holds-barred. Still, she takes a good swig from her glass, lets the burn settle. 

        ‘ jesus. ’ becky shakes her head, takes a swig of her beer. there’s no judgement here-- hell, she’s not really allowed to judge, is she? she has said far worse things about calvary, for one thing. even after he got killed, and riggs started talking about him like it was some terrible loss. you just don’t get there with some people. but she’s not gonna ruin the mood. ‘ hate to think what you say about me behind my back. ’ 

    she takes a bite out of her burger while she considers what she has to say about work. truth is, she’s still struggling to get half the precinct to look at her and not see the trapper. it’s awful. she feels awful. sometimes she really does wonder if it was her after all, and she really is going the same way as her dad. it’s terrifying. but she wouldn’t. she wouldn’t. 

SAN JUNIPERO. accepting.

    to be fair, he’s absolutely being analysed. it kind of comes with the territory and, if he’s hoping to throw her off with a little comment, it’s not going to work. still, she won’t get anything out of him if he’s all on pins and needles. 

    she smiles. it’s not wholly friendly. 

SAN JUNIPERO. accepting.

    easy, she says, and she has to stop herself from laughing. that’s what this has always been, hasn’t it? easy. a little too much, actually, by the sounds of things, because now they have to figure out where it is they stand and– well, she knows from experience that things could ( probably will, knowing her track record ) go from easy to complicated as all hell real fast. 

    becky isn’t normally one for nerves, for butterflies, for whatever it is that trails its fingers across the back of her neck now and tries to send a shiver through her. then again, it’s been a damn long while since she last felt like she connected with anybody– and it’s there, isn’t it? obvious as anything, bright as day? something. 

    something good. 

    something that doesn’t have to turn all of this good into a big fucking mess. 

    that’s the push she needs. becky takes the small step forward, cuts through all of that thinly veiled flirting they’ve been doing for the past… too damn long, and kisses her. it’s a little gentler than nell might’ve expected, she doesn’t doubt, but that doesn’t make it weak. once she’s sure nell isn’t about to pull away– and even if she does now, it’ll be a shame, but becky won’t stop her– her hand settles at her neck, and her eyes fall closed. 

   It’s an assumption sure, but Stella’s from a time where big families were the norm, though she understands not talking to your own when things weren’t the greatest, or if you were cast out. Still, she shrugs, links weathered hands together atop the table.

   “One at a time, slow and steady wins the race and all that bullshit actually works,” Of course, she’s partly bullshitting herself, but who cares? “No, no judgement at all. Hell, order all you want, kiddo. I ain’t got anywhere else to be.” Just an empty house and a driveway to shovel. “Besides, I’m sure they’ve got you runnin’ your pretty little ass off at the precinct these days with the idiots on holidays.” 

        ‘ you’re right. but don’t think i missed your choice of words. ’ another smile, here, to prove she doesn’t really mind. hell, this is why she likes stella. she’s a character. a little grouchy at times, sure, but it’s nothing becky isn’t willing to put up with. besides, there’s something nice about spending time around other women like her, right? or any women at all, actually. god knows she doesn’t work with any anymore. stella is kind of killing two birds with one stone... in the nicest possible way.