Disclaimer: I am PRO Black Lives Matter and PRO GOOD policemen. Just so we're clear.
Maybe Lucas Friar was just born in the wrong time. Being a lawman wasn't cool anymore. Especially not a rookie cop who only caught jaywalkers and gave parking tickets. It looked awesome, watching black and white westerns. Men in ten-gallon hats, making the rules with smoke from their guns and tobacco on their breath. Even in real life, there was a sheriff in his small Texas town. Sheriff Mandrake was fair, just and kind. He took care of the kids in the neighborhood, being there to be a crossing guard for their trips to school when it was too frosty outside for the elderly Miss Jacobson. He also volunteered to the homeless and orchestrated the Veteran's dance every year. Lucas idolized him more than his own father. Mr. Friar was OK but he was no Sheriff Mandrake.
With Mandrake now peacefully up above, someone had to replace the irreplaceable. There had to be a new sheriff in town... which could not be Lucas because he was too young. He died when Lucas was 16. Now, after high school and the Police Academy, he was finally ready. But there was another rub: there were no sheriffs anymore in New York, his new home. After his mentor passed, the boy's life hit a rough patch. Lucas started to act out. First, it was petty theft and stealing booze from the mini-mart. Next, trespassing into barns with his comrades and letting the animals run free, intoxicated. The last straw was driving drunk and crashing into a street light. His parents thought it best to give him a new environment.
With some 12-step classes and anger management counseling, Lucas was began a more stable life. When he celebrated his 21st, his acceptance to the force and whenever he went out with friends, Lucas would have a Dr. Pepper. Tame because it's just soda, yet all the satisfaction was in being able to control himself and not grab a shot of Southern Comfort. Usually, after days of old ladies assaulting him with their heavy purses (what the hell did they keep in them?) for putting a yellow tag on their cars, Lucas needed some satisfaction.
On one warm night, Lucas sat in his cop car, just waiting to be called to another disturbance from a bachelorette party or public indecency of some homeless man peeing in the street.
He was playing a game on his phone, when he was called through the walkie, "10-21 to Friar."
"Go for Friar."
"Friar, what's your 20?"
Sighing, he picked up, "Yeah, I'm at the corner of 6th and Market."
"Got a defacement of property on 7th and Tennant. Report immediately."
Lucas rolled his eyes, "10-4." His hands put the car in drive. Lucas thought about putting the sirens on but he didn't want to waste the noise, even in bustling city of New York. This was going to be another long night.
Paint cans explode. Yeah, apparently, if you leave them in heat too long they can just blow the fuck up. Maya Hart made the mistake of leaving the spray cans in her backpack on the window sill in her dorm room. When she opened it that night at the abandoned wall, she saw abstractionist theory splattered inside. She cursed, now having to spend whatever was left of her money on new paint. She wanted to make the Aurora Borealis on the side of the old garment building, so Maya went to the 24 hour Home Depot. There truly is everything you can think of in New York.
When she was little, her mother couldn't afford to get her a proper easel and starter kit of watercolors. Off a waitress' salary, their pennies had to be pinched when they came. The good mom Katy Clutterbucket was, she let Maya draw on the walls. In school, she was forced to transition to paper and sketchbooks, which were all dandy but Maya never wanted her work to be graded. Her art was never meant to be private, or even for profit. It was for the world. Still, even with her hatred for the system of competing with other artists, Maya still went to college. Her GPA was less than stellar and her essay was interesting if not, a bit disrespectful but as Pratt admissions looked at her work, they could see someone with a vibrant, brilliant soul. However, with brilliance almost always come rebellion.
Maya was introduced to graffiti by a boyfriend. The relationship didn't last but the feeling she got making street art, being anon and hearing the noise of the cops, left her tingling. She realized how sheltered she was and that she did have some privilege that allowed her to continue to do this routinely but Maya couldn't help it. Perhaps the addiction was a quality she inherited from her father. Tonight, Maya was near P.S. 235. In grade school, classes were always so boring for her. If she wasn't doodling, her blue eyes would just gaze out the window memorizing every color without a name. Maya wanted to make something for the kids like her.
The art student was half-way through, when she heard a vehicle behind her. Making nothing of it, she continued to work.
"Um, excuse me!" Maya noticed the voice but she just pulled her phone from her back pocket, turning up her music.
Officer Friar walked up to her and tapped on her shoulder intently, "Excuse me, sir."
"Sir?" The girl pulled down the rag exposing a very attractive face and eyes so bright it made Lucas feel like he was looking into sun.
"Oh, uh, sorry ma'am -"
"Ma'am?" Maya snorted and wiped her nose with her arm. "You're really not from here." Turning back around to her nearly done creation, she declared, "You're cute, though."
Obviously, Lucas was not being assertive enough when a criminal called him 'cute'. He puffed out his chest and announced, "Ma'am, I will give you one minute to cease and desist what you're doing. If you do not, I will have to take you down."
"Don't threaten me with a good time, sir." Lucas sighed, looking up to the cloudy night sky. Is this what you wanted Mandrake? As soon as he had an opportunity, Lucas armed Maya with bracelets of steel. "Hey, what the f-"
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law -"
"You're a fucking pig, you know that?!" Lucas might have been a pig but Maya was acting like a stallion. The little woman fought him tooth and nail: jumping, swinging herself and at one point letting her legs go lame so Lucas had to drag her limp body to the car. He struggled opening the door, trying to hold up 120 pounds of resistance. Maya thrust her boot-print against the white of the car. "HELP! I'M BEING ABDUCTED! HELP!"
"OK, get on in there," Lucas' hand tried to gently force the girl's head into the vehicle as carefully as possible but now, she was shaking with laughter.
"Get on in there? Ma'am? And that accent?" Maya guffawed. Agitated for letting his southern twang sneak out, Lucas slammed the door shut. That only happened when he was got mad. "Hey! HEY, I'M TALKIN' TO YOU HA-HURR! CAN YOU AT LEAST GET MY STUFF!?" Mumbling to himself, Lucas looked back and saw her dingy, colorful backpack sitting against the wall patiently. Lucas grabbed Maya's belongings and blocked the door with his body, so she couldn't run out. He tossed it inside with it's owner, closed the door and went to drive them over to the precinct. The vandal kicked the fence that was between them in time while she sang crashingly loud, I Fought the Law by the Clash.
This little, blonde girl was easily the most hostile prisoner Lucas ever had. By increments, he was losing his cool with her making fun of him and calling him Officer Piggy. Currently, the man benched at 350 lbs. Lucas jumped rope, ran suicides and did at least a half-hour's worth sit ups in his apartment every night but he knew she wasn't referring to his weight. It was common knowledge, especially in this time, that people didn't like cops. They were deemed untrustworthy and crooked and most of the ones Lucas encountered so far were. Yet, that's why he wanted to be one so badly; he wanted to help fix the institution that he loved dearly, as it has failed so many. However, he wouldn't put any effort into explaining this to Maya. She kept hootin' and hollerin' in the backseat and Lucas' patience was running low.
After about a 20 minute ride of constant verbal abuse and screaming, the girl was still going when they arrived. She was the friggin' Energizer bunny. Lucas walked over to open the door and it was like a huge gust of Maya's voice roundhoused him in the face. First, he took the bag and then, he almost yanked the thin girl out. Desperately, Lucas tried to check his anger but Maya kept egging him on.
As he gripped onto her wrists and walked her inside, Maya twisted around, "Ooh, Ha-Hurr's gettin' a little rough. You know, you'd better calm down before you turn yourself into bacon. Gonna end up on daddy and mama's plate!"
They entered the precinct and the receptionist peered her big, bloodhound eyes up. Then, her whole demeanor went from annoyed to joyous, "Oh, hey Maya!"
"Hey, Mirabelle! How you doin', girl?"
"You know her?" Lucas asked the woman behind the desk.
"Oh, yeah. Hart's a local 'round these parts."
"1000 hours of community service and I still haven't learned my lesson." Maya informed the officer, clicking her tongue at the end. Then, she faced back to Mirabelle, "I don't want Hee-Haw Hands over here touching my shit."
"I don't even want to be touching you but here we are," Lucas caught himself say.
Before he could apologize, Maya responded in a sing-song voice, "Now we both know that's not true. " He put her a cell with other female inmates who were awaiting bail or the sun to rise. Watching her sit down in the corner, Lucas locked her in. "Hey, I love you, Ha-hurr! I'm all about you man! You and your lasso!"
Don't react. Just keep walking.
While making her report and looking at her previous ones, Lucas read that Maya was a graffiti artist. 20, been arrested only once before but has been caught plenty of times, all as a minor. Also, she was a college student. Lucas had no idea what college would accept such a lunatic but he figured she had to have some common sense, considering.
"Yo, Luke!" Another officer called him and he looked up from his work. "Let all the hookers out. There was a bar brawl. Need the space." The rookie groaned and went back to the cell. All of the women who were in flamboyant, tight dresses were sleeping on top of each other but Maya was still awake. Instead of trying to make another picture on the already tagged, gray wall, she was furiously scribbling on a small notepad. Her long blonde hair poured in a waterfall on one side, ending in rainbow colored tips. There was a tight knot of focus on her pale forehead.
"Hey, pretty," A woman's husky voice called to Lucas. "Are you gonna let us out or stare at Picasso all day?" The other sex-workers started howling and cackling with laughter. Flustered, Lucas quickly opened the cell. Each lady strutted out, staring Lucas up and down, admiring his physique. Maya was the last to leave. The way she looked Lucas in the eye made him uncomfortable.
Maya made a false, sweet smile at the man before standing on her tip-toes and shouting, "HAH-HURRRR!" And, she skipped away.
Another vandalism call. Shifting from park to drive, Lucas thought about why they weren't giving him more serious calls. At the academy, he was in the top ranks for god-sake. Lucas drove to 34th and Hughes Ave. Pulling up, he looked close at the same tiny body that accosted him two weeks prior.
He rolled his eyes and sighed, "You've got to be kidding." After leaving his car, Lucas slowly approached the repeat offender. "Again?" Lucas complained to Maya.
She turned around from her portrait of Frida Kahlo that was almost finished. She shrugged, smile hidden by a bandanna that she removed to speak, "Well, lookee here. It's Ranger Rick."
"You gonna stop what you're doing or - "
"Are's ya's gonna stop what yur doin' or -" Maya repeated in a very exaggerated, deep Texan accent.
"Yeah, OK." He turned her around and placed the cuffs in their respected place. It took the officer by surprise, however, when she didn't fight him this time. She peacefully went into the car and he remembered to take her bag. The ride was pretty OK as well, until the rebel spoke.
"So... hey, uh - I'm sorry about - y'know, last time."
Lucas' eyebrows pulled together, "You are?"
"Yeah. Your job can't be easy. I know last time wasn't because I made it that way."
"Yeah, and why'd you do that?"
"I don't know. Why are you willingly apart of a broken system?"
"OK, it's quiet time now." Moments later, Maya started to hum The Clash again. Lucas didn't care. As long as she wasn't pounding on the barrier between them, he was good.
But then, "So, I think I know why you keep catching me." Maya said.
Lucas eyed her in his rear-view mirror, "Because you keep breaking the law?"
"No, because you never put on the sirens."
"Because this isn't an emergency."
"So, I'm not worth the sirens?"
"No, you're not." Lucas plainly stated.
"No, yur not."
"I don't talk like that." He scoffed, growing irritated.
"I's derr talk like that."
"You know what," suddenly, the car halted and Maya almost flew into the fence that separated them.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Are you fucking kidding me?!" She berated him.
"I could ask you the same thing!" He looked at her through the holes, making her face fragmented. "Maya, I've read your reports. You're in college! Don't you think you should be putting your energy into that instead of constantly putting yourself in a jail cell?!"
"This is only the third time. Haha, you can't read." She giggled.
"Maya, you know what's going to happen, the next time your caught? It won't be just community service and a fine. You're going to put before a judge. You've been in the system since you were a kid, now you're an adult. They can put you in jail, over a wall that's going to be painted over and over and over again."
"Who are you? My dad? Because it's about time you showed up."
Seeing that she was refusing to get it, Lucas left the drivers' seat to get in the back with Maya. She licked her lips excitedly. There was such a passion in his eyes as he leaned in, facing her. "I don't want a talented person to waste their life on things that don't matter and won't matter years, months, even days from now."
The elation that was once on her face, deteriorated to a silent rage. Steadily, Maya turned away from Lucas. She firmly ordered, "Take me to the precinct."
"Wha - Maya, I'm just trying to help -"
"Take me to jail, now! You don't know me. You don't know anything about me. So, can one of you goddamn cops just be competent for once and do your fucking job!" Maya screamed at him. He quirked an eyebrow at her before leaving in disgust and doing exactly as she said. What the hell was this girl's problem? Lucas went out on a limb, wanting to see Maya do better and she just shit all over it. Well, fine. It's just like Pappy liked to say, you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink. Lucas wasn't sure if he could even make this little criminal care about her future but at least he tried.
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
Courage to change the things I can,
And wisdom to know the difference.
As by Maya's command and Lucas' obligation, he escorted the girl to her cell with the others and she waited to be released. Two hours later, Lucas came back to let the women of the night out to freedom. Once more, the two stood eye to eye but Maya looked a lot less playful and smug.
"I don't get you." He confessed. Maya narrowed her eyes at him in such a way that made him feel like he was in front of a firing squad, before leaving him to stand there.
Lucas got another call in for 64th and Locust St. The sirens did not ring out and he wasn't looking forward to seeing her again. Not just because Maya Hart was a pain in his ass but because Lucas didn't want to be the one to put her in jail. The cop sighed, looking at the beautiful criminal and possible psychopath paint an obese woman, posing in a mirror that reflected a 50's pin-up model. Lucas banged the car door so hard that Maya jumped. He stalked forward with his hands in his pockets, like he was meeting a nemesis in a shootout.
"Hey, you." Maya almost looked nervous.
Lucas shook his head, disappointed. There was no point in talking, he tried that. Now, he just wanted to get the inevitable over with, "You have the right to remain silent - "
"Wait!" She yanked her rag made out of an old band tee off and put her hands up. "Before you do anything or take me anywhere, just hear me out... I want us to take a little trip."
"Excuse me?" Lucas almost cracked up at the absurdity.
"Just go to a couple of places with me and then I'll do whatever you want." Maya ran towards the car and Lucas tried to intercept her, thinking she was making a break for it. But instead, she threw herself over the hood and put her hands behind her back. "You can even cuff me! I can't get far with my hands behind my back! C'mon Officer Huckleberry! You got nothing to lose!"
He laughed in disbelief, walking toward her asking, "And you don't think I'll just drive us back to the precinct? Make you an inmate?"
"I trust you... If you wanna get me, come with me."
The girl shivered, feeling the cold cuffs on her arms once again but felt incredibly warm when Lucas pulled her up and close to his hard chest. He put her in the car, telling her to watch her head.
"OK, jailbird." Maya frowned at the nickname, before he turned around and asked, "Where to?"
First, they went to a 33rd and Levine, where Maya painted a memorial of Mrs. Morales. The next of her works they visited was a plain white wall with huge expressive face that looked like a young man with freckles and gapped teeth. The last stop was a large wall on the side of a building. The sun was setting on the city and kids were still running around, playing, trying to catch the last hour of daylight.
Lucas left the car and opened the door for Maya to crawl out. "Last one, right?" Lucas quipped.
Maya nodded, "Last one."
Together, Lucas and Maya gaped at the wall. Maya was lucky the wall was already pitch black, because it gave her the inspiration to use negative space. She climbed and hopped fire escapes to outline important people like Martin Luther King Jr., Beyonce, Barack Obama, Sandra Bland, Trayvon Martin and Mike Brown. In the top corner of the building, Maya sprayed 'Black Lives Matter' so it would be that much harder for anyone to change it. The cop took in the images and details, not sure what was going to happen next. Maya faced Lucas and began to explain.
"That first painting I showed you? Mrs. Morales? She ran the community market in my neighborhood. She would always give the kids apples and bananas for free because she knew that the supermarkets charge an arm and a leg and they didn't have it at home. She died a few years ago by a stray bullet. We all stood around the painting I made and put flowers and balloons near it. Some of the kids even left fruit and vegetables for her. And then, I had this friend who hated his face and smile and I... wanted to show him he was beautiful so I immortalized him on a wall. Never heard the kid talk badly about himself again and he smiled his nerdy smile in every school picture. And last, there's this. I showed this to my best friend, Zay and it was the first - only time I have ever seen him cry. We stood here and we cried together for a really long time. I don't do this for kicks or for rebellion. Not anymore, at least. I make these murals because... I don't care about making money or being famous. I want people to see what I see and... I want them to hope. I want them to see themselves on these walls and know that they are beautiful and they are loved and important, even if the world tells them they're not. Because it matters. What I do matters." The fire in her eyes welled and transformed into the tears on her face. Soon though, Maya stood tall and continued.
"If you want to take me to jail, fine because I did break the law. But... I know you know that the law isn't always right."
Lucas heavily exhaled, absorbing all that Maya just laid out for him. After a few minutes of just gazing at her face, he turned her around as if he was going to place her into the backseat. But she felt the cuffs unlock. Wringing her wrists, Maya pivoted to look the officer in his emerald, shimmering eyes.
"I joined the force because I wanted to be one of the good guys." Lucas said. "Putting someone like you in jail, wouldn't make me good."
"Thank you," Maya read the name on his lapel. "Friar."
"If you want to thank me, don't let me catch you again, OK?" He chuckled. "I'll even put on the sirens for you."
Maya sniffled and smiled back but then, her hands raised slowly in the air. She narrated all her moves so Lucas wouldn't reach for his piece. "I'm putting my hands up." Then, Lucas cocked an eyebrow as she came closer. "Now, I'm putting my arms around your neck. Finally, I'm putting my lips... on..." The criminal was kissing the cop. Lucas kept his hands behind his back, knowing if he tried to push her away he might just end up pulling her closer. His lips were soft and so nibbly to Maya, almost like bubblegum. When she broke the kiss, Lucas breathed through his nostrils and licked his mouth, savoring her flavor. Grinning mischievously, Maya went into the car to grab her things and she ran away before he could change his mind.
"I won't forget this, Friar the Good!" She hollered, before flashing a smile at him and disappearing.
The next week, Lucas was in his cubicle, enjoying his New York hot dog when the chief of police was storming up to him. He almost choked on his lunch as his boss glared at him.
"Friar, you're coming with me. Right. Now." He ordered with a stern tone. This can't be good.
Even though he was on break, the rookie stood up and said, "Yes, sir," with his mouth full.
Lucas and the chief, drove to the corner of 8th and Main. Slowly, the chief's powerful voice uttered, "You know, there are a lot of jackasses on this force, Friar. A lot. Didn't think you were one of them. Believed you were a good one, I really did."
"Sir, I-I don't know w-what you mean-" Lucas stammered.
The chief left him without a clue in the car and marched over to a wall in an alley. Lucas followed him without being told. What he saw next, took his breath away. It was a portrait of him. A colorful, realistic, jumbo painting of his face against a sky blue background. He was wearing a bright smile and next to his head were the black words, 'Friar the Good.'
"So, are you in cahoots with this one?" The chief strongly nudged Lucas and gestured to the ground. Maya was past out against the wall, exhausted from the three nights worth of work. Instead of answering his superior, Lucas bent down and shook Maya awake.
Her sleepy, gorgeous eyes opened. A slow smile grew on her face, yawning, "Oh. Fancy meeting you here."
Speechless, Lucas shook his head at this crazy girl. But he smiled.
AN: Yes, I have traveled to the dark side. I am a Lucaya shipper. (Though Joshaya is my top ship). This is only a one-shot. If you like what you read, please review. Thanks.