Title: Crystal'verse Drabbles
Author: diayang
Rating: T
Pairing: Barricade/OC
Summary: Life goes on. Sort of.
Disclaimer: Transformers © Hasbro/Dreamworks.
A/N: Quick and dirty drabble(s).

It was a rare thing for them to have a cop walk into the building, mused the receptionist. Even rarer that said cop would look pretty darned good, too. She kept one eye on him as he approached, busying herself with needless sorting – the paperclips were all silver, anyway, who needed to colour-code them? - appreciating the easy gait and authoritative air that hung about the man, with his dark hair tucked neatly under the square cap, shoulders outlined by the sharp formal cut of his uniform.

Hell, she thought. Now why couldn't her own man look like that? As he drew closer, she swiveled to him, offered a smile.

"May I help you, sir?"

And he smiled in return, just a lazy upward quirk of his lips. "Yes, I'm looking for a Calleigh Thornton."

"Just one second," she said, adjusting her headset out of habit. "Oh, I do hope it's nothing serious."

"We're just checking up on a case, ma'am, nothing to worry about."

"I'll let her know."

"Thornton, this is Danes from Reception, there's a police officer here to see you - "

Calleigh stared for a full five seconds at nothing in particular, that sinking feeling all too familiar. Could just be a cop, like a normal cop, cop, she cajoled herself, fighting down threads of panic and 'fuck no not again'. Could be...

"What's his name?"

"Says he's Officer Cade, he, uh..." Danes coughed delicately at that, poor woman hardly needed reminding of that strange case. "Says he worked... you know. The uh, case - "

"Officer Cade, is he?" she growled into the phone. "Okay. Okay. Fine. Danes, you see the patrol car he drove in on anywhere?"

"Well, I - "

"Is it a Sal – does it look like a Mustang? Black and white, numbers 643?"

"Calleigh, the man's just walked in, I - "

"Tell ya what. You go check, Danes, with your own eyes, and if it's a Mustang – looks like one, smells like one, feels like one, whatever - tell'im to fuck off, I'm busy."

"Thornton - "

Resolute, Calleigh slammed down the phone, mood souring with one fine snap of temper.

Below, Danes winced at the woman's temper, and offered the man a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, she's... a bit busy at the moment, can I take a message instead?"

Officer Cade's dark eyes narrowed just a fraction, and he leant on the counter. "Danes, is it? Why don't you call her back, put 'er on? Lemme talk to 'er. It's important, and I don't want to have to inconvenience anyone by having to get 'er to come down to the station."

Bloody hell, and a hint of a southern drawl. Danes hesitated only the briefest of moments – in the spirit of cooperation with the law – before she rang back.

"Calleigh," came the smooth, low voice over the phone.

"... you," she hissed, back stiffening.

"Come down for a coffee. Take a break."

"Oh for Chrissakes. Fuck off, busy trying to make ends meet here, you piece of shit - "

"Do you want me to fetch you?"

"Do you want me to lose my job?" snarled Calleigh, snatching up a folder, thumbing through it. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Now she'd be spazzy all day, wind up with stiff shoulders and neck, and possibly a headache. He was going to pay.

"I thought you hated your job."

"I don't, it pays, now fuck off."

"Calle."

"No."

"That's it, I'm coming up."

"You - God, you are such an asshole! No! No, I'm not going anywhere, I'd like to finish for the day, damn you! I'm behind enough as it is, I'm not talking on company time, if you want any you better damned well wait till I get off work! Ass!"

"Calle."

"Nuh uh. Nope. No. Not happening. Look, if you're that desperate? I hear knotholes in trees work just as well," she finished acidly, snapping out papers. "Hanging up. Right now. Mess with me and I'll slash your tyres, jerk."

Despite it all, the smooth chuckle still wound through her body and settled low in her gut. And she nearly hated him for it.

"Alright, you said it," he conceded. "Watch your inbox, then."

"Watch my – hey – hey, wait a sec - "

He hung up, and she snarled at the phone, before slamming it down again, oblivious to the uncertain, half-afraid look that moved across the expressions of several coworkers and her boss. They shared a few glances with each other, then went about work as usual, not wanting to get their heads verbally bitten off in the most spectacular fashion.

In the meantime, Danes sighed as the cop with the cute ass walked back out. Up in the office block, Calleigh swore to kill Barricade slowly, and painfully, if he infected her work computer with weird shit(i.e. porn) once more.