A/N: Yoooooo so this is my first TD story, and I posted it on tumblr first and it got lots of love so I'm putting it here! Hope y'all enjoy.
Jacques was nervous, to say in the least. This was the first time he was taking Josee out since they had placed second in the race. Second, again! He couldn't believe they had lost to the sisters, those uglies. Josee had taken the blow harder than he had. She had completely trashed her room, screaming curses Jacques didn't even know existed. After a week, he had calmed her down somewhat by taking her to rink and practicing new moves with her. Ice-skating always calmed Josee down; especially when she perfected moves they had just learned. Once she was almost back to normal, Jacques decided to make a move and ask her on a date. He was afraid she'd reject him, say something along the lines of "You're the reason we lost the Olympics AND the race! Why would I date you?" Jacques was so ready for her yelling that he almost missed her beautiful smile. So now here Jacques was, waiting for her to be ready. He had planned to take her to one of the most expensive restaurants, because Josee deserved the best. The door to her apartment opened, and out stepped Josee in a beautiful light pink dress. Jacques stared at her. He was the luckiest man alive, having the honor of taking her out! "Well?" Josee teased, raising an eyebrow. "Are we going or not, Jacques?" "Ah, of course!" Jacques laughed, taking her hand as he led her to his car. "I was just astounded by your beauty, Josee."
"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Jacques." Josee smirked. Jacques smiled, driving to the restaurant. The car ride was pleasant, he was happy to have Josee back to her old self. Jacques parked the car, walking to the passenger side and opening the door, holding his hand out for Josee. Once she took his hand and stepped out, he closed the door and locked it. The two walked inside, the restaurant packed.
"Bonjour, is there a table for two available?" Jacques asked a woman who was holding menus.
"Sorry, no empty tables. Do you have a reservation?" She asked.
"Haha…" Jacques laughed nervously. Josee give him a look.
"You didn't make reservations?" She whispered, glaring slightly.
"I didn't think it'd be this packed, I'm sorry." Jacques apologized. Of course his stupid self would find a way to mess up their perfect night together.
"Oh, actually," The woman started, looking at a table. "There's a table of four, which is occupied by two people. If you don't want to wait, we can seat you there."
"How long is the wait time?" Josee asked.
"An hour." The woman said.
"We'll take the table." Jacques smiled.
"Follow me." The woman smiled in return, leading them to the table. Thank goodness! Jacques would've cried himself to sleep had he ruined this night. Hopefully the people would be nice enough—Josee's gasp of horror cut Jacques' train of thought.
"MacArthur? Sanders?" Josee said, looking at the two cops who were at the table.
"Nope!" MacArthur yelled. "I refuse to share a table with them! LADY! GET BACK HERE!"
"MacArthur!" Sanders chastised. "Stop it, you're causing a scene!"
"Oh, it's nice to see the two of you again…" Jacques said. It may have been a lie, and he promised his mother he'd never lie, but he really needed to make Josee happy tonight, and these two had the table. "I know there's bad blood between us, but would you be kind enough to share your table?"
MacArthur shook her head quickly, but Sanders nodded. She always hoped the ice dancers had some niceness in them, and maybe being out of the competition would bring it out. Jacques smiled gratefully at her, choosing to sit next to MacArthur. Josee sat across from him, next to Sanders. The awkward silence at the table was hard to deal with, and it was even worse with Josee and MacArthur glaring at one another.
"Sanders, why couldn't we just let them wait? They deserve it. They made us place third." MacArthur whined slightly.
"It was a competition, MacArthur. If we were in there shoes, we would've done the same." Sanders said calmly.
"We would never be in their shoes, because ice dancing isn't a sport, so why would we have…shoes for that? Boom, MacArthur one ice losers zero." MacArthur smirked at Josee.
"Take that back you junior pig!" Josee scowled.
"What would you like to order?" A waiter asked, thankfully interrupting what would've been a brawl. After everyone placed their orders, Jacques rested his hand on Josee's, idly brushing his thumb against her knuckles.
"Just ignore them, mon cher. Tonight is for me and you." He said with a smile. Josee looked away, cheeks tinting pink as she smiled back.
"Look at those losers. Love is for wimps." MacArthur scoffed.
"…MacArthur, we're on a date." Sanders said slowly. "That you initiated…"
"Don't call it a date, that's pretty gay." MacArthur said.
"But you kissed me this morning, and we had se—" Sanders started.
"Shhh, shh," MacArthur put her finger to Sanders' lips. "Not in front of the enemies babe."
"We're not enemies anymore, that was in the competition."
"I don't let go of grudges," MacArthur shrugged with a smirk.
The waiter came back, placing everyone's food in front of them. MacArthur looked at the peas that came with her steak and potatoes, before looking at Josee. She would have to distract Sanders if she wanted to do this…so she kicked her in the knee, lightly.
"Ow!" Sanders said, looking under the table. MacArthur threw a pea at Josee's face, before quickly looking at Sanders as she arose, rubbing her knee.
"You alright partner?" MacArthur asked, trying not to laugh as she watched Josee wipe her face.
Oh, so she wanted to play that way, huh? Josee cut off a small piece of her pork. "Jacques, I think I lost one of my earrings…can you check?" She smiled sweetly.
"Of course Josee." Jacques smiled back, looking under the table. Josee threw the piece of pork at MacArthur, who looked at Josee with a smile.
"Do you really want to go?" MacArthur mouthed.
"I'll beat you at your own game." Josee mouthed back.
MacArthur cut her potato in half, throwing it at Josee.
"MacArthur! Behave!" Sanders scolded, but the damage had already been done.
Josee scooped up some of her mashed potatoes, flinging it at MacArthur. She could barely contain her laugh at seeing MacArthur's face covered in potatoes.
"Josee, it is not down there mon—what is going on?" Jacques asked, looking between the two.
"Take that!" MacArthur yelled, throwing pieces of steak at Josee.
"Oh yeah? Well take this!" Josee threw her green beans at MacArthur. More and more of the residents in the restaurant were beginning to stare at the four. Sanders buried her face in her hands, trying to hide her shame. Jacques just smiled apologetically.
Josee and MacArthur stood, gripping their glasses of water.
"MacArthur—" Sanders started.
"Josee—" Jacques began.
Josee and MacArthur both jerked their glasses towards the other, water and ice covering their outfits, along with remnants of the food that was previously thrown.
"I'm sorry, but I have to ask you four to leave the restaurant." The manager said sternly when he saw the scene.
MacArthur and Josee both scowled at the other, walking out of the restaurant. Sanders and Jacques sighed. Of course this would happen. The two followed their dates out. "Here, these are the bills." The manager said, handing both to Sanders. "Oh, Jacques, I'm so cold…" Josee said, shivering. "Do you think you could take me to a store so I can buy a spare outfit?"
"Oui, oui. We'll be back." Jacques said to Sanders, putting his arm securely around Josee's waist and walking off with her.
"Don't bother coming back!" MacArthur yelled. Josee turned around, sticking her tongue out at her. MacArthur responded by flipping her off.
"MacArthur…" Sanders rubbed her temples. "Please act like a cop."
"We're off duty babe." MacArthur grinned.
"Josee, you've changed. Shouldn't we head back and grab our bill to pay?" Jacques asked. Josee set her wet and dirty dress in a bag, smirking.
"Aw Jacques, you think we'll actually pay."
"We're not?" Jacques raised an eyebrow, confused.
"Darling, there's a reason Sanders is holding the ticket, and not us." Josee said, cupping his cheek.
"Oh…" Jacques nodded, smirking. "I love it when you talk evil."
"I know you do," Josee purred. "Since the cars right out there, we can have some privacy in the changing rooms, hm?"
"Oh Josee, you're always full of good ideas." Jacques grinned.
After a half hour of standing in front of the restaurant, Sanders sighed. "They're not coming back, are they?"
"Nope." MacArthur scowled. "Those damn ice skaters. I told you they're pure evil, Sanders! Pure evil!"
"Maybe this is punishment for me not paying for those fries…" Sanders whispered. "I now have to pay the bill of our competitors…"
MacArthur looked at her partner weirdly. "Seriously, Sanders?"
"This must be what I have to do, to repay for my sins." Sanders took money out of her wallet. MacArthur sighed loudly, taking out some of her own money. Sanders handed the bills and the money to the manager, once again apologizing for their actions.
"I know how we could get revenge on them." MacArthur smirked.
"I told you, you need to learn how to drop the grudges and revenge—" Sanders started.
"What was the bill of theirs?" MacArthur asked.
"One-hundred and fifteen dollars, why?" Sanders looked at her weirdly. MacArthur started writing something on her notepad. Even on their night out, she always carried her cop gear. "What're you doing?"
"Come on, let's go find their car." MacArthur smirked, dragging Sanders down the sidewalk.
"That was a great way to end the night, non?" Josee grinned at Jacques as he smoothed out wrinkles in his clothes.
"Oui." Jacques nodded happily. Josee walked to his car, frowning. "Did you park in front of a hydrant or something?"
"I didn't think so." Jacques frowned. "Why?"
"There's a ticket." Josee said, picking up the piece of paper. She grit her teeth as she read.
"Let me see it. I hate police." Jacques sighed, taking the paper from Josee's hand.
"Dear ice losers,
Skipping out on a meal? That's a crime. Your fine is $115. Don't mess with the best cadets.
P.S. Ice skating isn't a sport, it wont ever be a sport, and Josee is the WORST at it!"
Jacques gasped. "How dare she insult your skills, Josee!" That was the only thing that really offended him. Jacques didn't care about paying money. But insulting his petit chou? Never.
"This means war." Josee growled.