A/N: Oh god, I haven't written anything like this in a long time. I apologize in advance if I'm a little rusty, haha.
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It starts as a normal day; Gippal doesn't like normality. He takes no interest in the mundane, the repetitive, and the only exception to date is his morning routine. He wakes up, showers, gets dressed, goes out to buy breakfast, and comes back to split it with the stray dog that spends time around his house. A monstrosity with black fur, Machina was a dog that would frighten many passersby, but Gippal was never afraid of him; the young man convinced himself that the dog appreciated that in his own way. In reality, Machina appreciated the food if anything. Either way, they had formed some kind of bizarre bond; two unbound souls both desiring and savoring freedom—and food, in Machina's case. Sometimes, when he went inside, Gippal would leave the door open a little too long just to see if the dog would follow him. He never would, and Gippal understood. An onlooker might think he's a lonely man, since the only company he seems to keep is a stray dog, but that couldn't be more incorrect. Gippal likes it this way.
After the routine, Gippal arrives at work. He's earned quite a reputation at the police department; a friendly and slightly eccentric man who can't keep a partner. Many around him don't understand why—Gippal gets along with almost everyone. His problem lies in his independence, and Baralai knows that. Baralai also knows that if he wasn't Gippal's best friend, the younger man would've likely been kicked out ten times by now. Sometimes, Gippal decides he doesn't even want to show up to work. Gippal is good at what he does, and both that and his connections secure his job. He wants to work alone, but both Baralai and protocol aren't in his favor, as usual. No one has been able to deal with his unpredictability, his tendency to do solo work without informing the other party, and various other eccentricities that vary from day to day.
Today is the day Gippal gets a new partner, and he's cleaning out his desk when Baralai gives him the news. "Don't mess this one up," he warns. "She's good."
She walks in then, and Gippal figures immediately that if she's half as good as she looks, she's damn near perfect. Her smile and eyes are full of innocence, and Gippal wonders how she made it through the academy considering she looks like she hasn't shot a gun before. He overhears her exchanging pleasantries with another officer before walking over to him. "I'm Yuna," she says with a smile. "It's nice to meet you."
"Gippal. Nice to meet you, too," he greets, shaking her extended hand. He doesn't know what she's doing here—softhearted, innocent girls generally don't decide to join law enforcement unless there's something horrible in their past, something that makes a little bit of the light fade from their eyes. Yuna doesn't seem like anything in her is broken. She looks like she would be more likely to arrange flowers in a boutique, plan weddings, take in stray cats—she looks out of place. It never occurs to him how out of place he looks.
"Well, shall we?" Yuna asks, smiling again and pulling out a case file. Gippal nods, and they get to work. Baralai's right, she's good. Apparently the captain has warned her about him; Yuna doesn't protest when Gippal suggests that they interview separately, and completes her share of the work around the same time he does.
He makes a mental bet that she won't last a week.
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It's been a few days, and Yuna has proven him wrong for the first time. She has fired a gun many times before, and is pretty damn lethal with one. Gippal would say the shootout ended favorably, since both of them survived, but there's nothing favorable about someone dying regardless of what side of his gun they're on. He's grateful to be alive, as he always is, and he's glad that Yuna's both alive and far more dangerous than she looks. It's part of her charm, at least to him. Yuna is a little shaken up, but it seems that the knowledge it's part of her duty alleviates some of the weight on her mind.
Spontaneity is something Gippal thrives on, so when the idea pops into his head to ask her to come to his house for dinner, he doesn't hesitate. Yuna's confused at first, but eventually agrees; there's no denying that they do enjoy each other's company, and she seems to be just laid back enough to put up with his behavior and still come through when there's a crisis. It's familiar.
When they arrive at Gippal's house, Machina is sitting on his front porch. The dog is clearly unhappy, and Gippal knows why; he usually returns around lunchtime to feed Machina, but the hectic day didn't let him. Figuring that an intimidating and angry dog on his porch would be enough to send Yuna running in the other direction, Gippal turns to her preparing to apologize only to see her running toward Machina to greet him. She has some kind of food in the pocket of her tight pants, Machina is appeased by the offering and lets her pet him. This time, when Gippal opens the door to go inside, the dog follows him—or more accurately, the dog follows her—and sits down in the dining room.
"So," Yuna asks, her hips swaying slightly from side to side, "what's for dinner?"
"I'm calling it in now," Gippal replies as he picks up the phone. "You like pizza?"
Yuna starts to laugh, and nods quickly. "Here I thought you were going to cook me dinner. Do you usually invite women back to your house and get a pizza delivered?" She teases.
"No. Only you," Gippal answers, and he's telling the truth. This is the first time he's actually invited a woman back to his place; he goes to their homes, stays if they offer, and is gone the next morning in time to feed Machina. This is a first for him, but he's a lot less uncomfortable than he thinks he should be.
It doesn't take long for the pizza to arrive, Gippal has long been a regular known for tipping well. The time spent waiting isn't awkward. Yuna asks him questions about Machina, as well as a few about himself. All of them are surface questions, little polite curiosities that do nothing to solve the puzzle he is. Gippal keeps making jokes and keeps her entertained as they wait. It seems like they've known each other for much longer than a few days.
That reminds him that Yuna has proven him wrong twice now. She's still around, and doesn't show any signs of wanting to leave any time soon.
Dinner is relatively quiet, and Gippal thinks he feels her moving closer to him slowly. Machina wakes and sniffs the pizza, but doesn't seem to be interested. He keeps waiting for the dog to get up and stand at the door, asking to leave, but he never does. Several minutes later, Machina is asleep again, and the pizza's gone. "Thank you," Yuna speaks, and flashes him the smile he's secretly grown to adore. "This was nice."
"Nice?" Gippal asks, leaning in closer to her. "Aw, c'mon, you can think of something better than nice. Fantastic, maybe. Extraordinary, definitely. But nice? You wound me."
Yuna starts to laugh and covers her mouth, then stands in front of him. She sticks her arms out, as if she's waiting for him to hug her. "Alright, then. It was absolutely, fantastically, wonderfully, extraordinarily amazing!" She shouts, raising her arms higher with each word. Gippal starts to laugh hysterically and applaud. "Did I overdo it?" Yuna asks, looking both embarrassed and surprised at the same time.
"No, I'd say you didn't do enough," Gippal encourages, and he stands up beside her. Machina becomes annoyed and struts off to the room where Gippal does his work—it seems that the dog knows the last thing Gippal wants to do tonight is work, and that's where he won't be disturbed.
"I'm sorry," Yuna apologizes to Machina as he walks away, and Gippal waves his hand dismissively.
"Don't mind him. He gets crabby on weeknights."
Gippal moves in closer, and he can smell her perfume—she smells like vanilla sugar, it's perfect. He moves even closer, pulling her into his arms, and smells her hair; it smells like strawberries, and he wonders if she somehow knows that strawberries are his favorite fruit. Probably not; he's prone to wishful thinking.
"I could get used to this," he murmurs as his right hand slides down her back. Gippal can feel Yuna's heart starting to beat faster, and he feels himself starting to smile—this type of attraction, the type when he's not in control, isn't something he's ever dealt with before.
Yuna takes a deep breath. "Let's...not," she whispers, looking up at him. Her eyes are full of curiosity and fear, a contradiction, and Gippal likes contradictions. He wants to kiss her, but he doesn't want to kiss her when she looks like a deer caught in the headlights. "I'm sorry."
"Yuna, you have no reason to be sorry," Gippal soothes. He steps back, scratches his head, and sits back down.
"Still," she protests. "I had a lot of fun tonight."
"Me too," Gippal agrees, smiling broadly.
"So," Yuna asks, trying to lighten the mood, "do you do that to all of your new partners?"
"Nope. Only you."
Yuna leaves on a good note, and they choose to not talk about it anymore. The attraction remains between them, but neither are brave enough to try again.
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It's been months now, and Yuna is still sticking with him. Baralai is unspeakably pleased that Gippal has finally found a partner that can put up with him, as well as that the two have become quite the team. Gippal has resumed his morning routine and Machina has as well; he hasn't slept in the house since. The day starts out normally, he wakes up, showers, gets dressed, gets breakfast, feeds Machina, and goes to work.
Yuna doesn't show up. Gippal is worried, this isn't like her; Yuna hasn't even been late before. He asks Baralai, who says he doesn't know anything either.
Gippal knows this isn't good. He wants to go looking for her, but Baralai has a specific task for him that he absolutely can't get out of today. As he's working, Gippal realizes he doesn't know where to look; he doesn't even know where she lives. Come to think of it, he doesn't know much about her at all. They brush the surface when they talk about each other or themselves, but never deeper.
Frustrated and finished with the work Baralai gave him, Gippal tells the captain that he's going home.
Not surprisingly, Machina waits for him on the porch. Gippal forgot to come home and feed him due to his worry about Yuna, and this time there are no peace offerings—hopefully the dog will forgive him and not decide to bite his hand off. Machina forgives him, but follows him inside; Gippal assumes he's just that hungry.
As if on cue, someone knocks on his door minutes later.
"Yuna."
She looks a mess. Yuna's hands are clutched together so tightly against her chest that her knuckles are six shades of white, and she won't look him in the eye. "Can I come in?"
"Of course."
Yuna walks in nervously, and advances straight toward the living room. She sits on the couch, and Machina strolls up to see her; she doesn't even notice him. Gippal sits next to her, and is grateful that she notices him; Machina starts to whine, and Yuna extends a trembling hand toward him.
For the first time since they've known each other, she proves Gippal right.
Something is broken, and has been for some time; she tells him about the monster that killed her parents and her boyfriend two years ago, about how that was what persuaded her to go into law enforcement, and how it was the only reason she became a police officer. She tells Gippal how badly she wants to catch him, and how frustrated she is that she's found nothing. For the first time in over a year, Yuna almost cries.
She tells him she doesn't want to be alone.
She asks him if she can stay, he says yes.
Gippal doesn't make promises, because he worries that he cannot keep them. It's a baseless worry, because he's always been there whenever someone has needed him, but he refuses to promise them anything, just on the odd chance that he can't follow through.
That night, as Yuna lies curled up to him with Machina at their feet, Gippal makes his first promise. He tells her that he'll help her, that they'll find who did this, and he promises they'll find a way.
For the first time that night, Yuna smiles.
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The next morning, Gippal's routine is disrupted. He wakes up, showers, gets dressed, and finds Yuna in the kitchen with a plate of eggs. Machina rests by her feet, wagging his tail; she used one of Gippal's bowls to feed the dog this morning, and clearly Machina isn't complaining. Gippal scratches his head and sits down to eat. "You didn't have to do all this, you know."
"I know. I wanted to," Yuna explains, tilting her head to the left with her smile. "Thank you."
"Don't worry about it."
"No," Yuna insists, sitting across from him. "I'm sorry for...imposing on you like that. I think this is the least I can do."
"It's no big deal," Gippal insists, wondering how she knew he liked his eggs over easy. "Really."
"I'm embarrassed," Yuna blurts out, staring at the table. "I shouldn't have done that."
"Yuna, if you keep apologizing, I'm going to throw an egg at you."
Yuna laughs, and nods stately. "I...started thinking too much. It's been so long, I should know better."
"Don't worry about it," Gippal repeats as he stretches his arms. "I'm glad you stopped by."
"I bet you say that to all the girls, huh?" Yuna teases, grinning at him.
"Nope. Only you."