A/N:
Hails: I deeply apologize for the extreme tardiness of this fiction, as April (and May) have been massively crazy! Besides, I didn't have too much inspiration until this AU idea came up. Yes, this is a one-shot. No, this will not be continued so don't ask. Yes, the pairing for this is LloydxCamille. Although it's probably more of a rivalry/friendship kind of thing, it does have romance. Like, expect a make out session and for things to get a little... heh, well heated. It's not rated M, so it doesn't have lemon. But for those of you who appreciate hot and heavy without the *cough* intercourse, then I hope you enjoy.
Anyhow, with that out of the way, please leave a review/comment as ALL feedback is appreciated. Thank you, and enjoy.
Disclaimer: No, I don't own Ninjago [Property of LEGO and the Hageman Bros.) (If I did Rebooted would never have happened.). Nor do I own Sherlock Holmes [Property of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.] (yes, I used the phrase "the game is afoot" in my story. Deal with it.)
Title: Chaos Among Men (AKA Let the Game Begin)
Month: April
Rating: T
Summary: [1950's Detective AU] The thing about Lloyd and women, is that it was never meant to be. Around the rather famed detective, they only focused on his social status. Not that he minded, it's just his friends did. He was getting old, going on twenty-two in ten months. Yet he didn't have wife. But when the infamous, feminine, Master of Form, challenges Lloyd Garmadon to a game of cat and mouse, how could he pass up the opportunity?
Warnings: Slight cursing. If you don't like this pairing, don't read. As I mentioned in the A/N this story doesn't have lemon, but it does have suggestive themes, and you'll want to expect, again, hot and heavy. And skin exposure. If you can't handle it, don't continue.
Genre: Romance, Rivalry/Friendship, mystery, slight humor, kind of a Catwoman to Batman relationship going on here.
Notes: I recommend that if you have any dark jazz noir music, listen to it while reading this. Warning, it's hard to find. Which sucks.
January 1st | 1952 | Saturday | 12:00 AM
The thing about me and women... Lloyd supposed, observing almost ruefully the New Year's party that unfolded before him, is that it's never meant to be. Peppy jazz music played in the background, making men and women alike sway to the tune. The tavern was occupied with people who were ready to leave 1951 behind and continue on with themselves.
"Lloyd, are you even listening to me?"
Then Lloyd remembered who he had been conversing with. Oh, that's right. This again. He recalled vaguely what the person's voice sounded like , and automatically profiled his appearance – Kai Smith. Descendant of an ancient bloodline of blacksmiths. Male. Twenty-five years old. Messy brunette hair. Narrow, honey glazed eyes. Tan complexion. A pearly, mischievous smile. Tall stature, maybe 6'2". Muscular. The ideal man of every woman's day dreams.
Lloyd's lack of an answer elicited a throaty groan from Kai's mouth.
"Lloyd, you're doing it again." Kai pointed out. Lloyd shot him a glance of question, running his eyes over Kai's eloquent attire and lazed posture. He was leaned up against the bar. His arm was wrapped around a quite, scarlet-haired woman with entrancing green eyes. – Skylor Chen. Female. Age twenty-two. Daughter of the wealthy and famed Mr. Chen; Owner of a massive chain of noodle restaurants. Slim figure. Pretty. Clearly the more submissive in her's and Kai's relationship. "Your profiling people. Knock it off."
"I'm not trying to, Kai." Lloyd answered, glancing up at the ceiling and pocketing his hands into his thick, long coat. "You know me. It's habit."
"Well, break that habit." Kai retorted. "It drives people away. No, correction, it drives women away."
"Kai, we've talked about this." Lloyd started, turning his deep, crimson gaze to Kai's oven baked irises. "That concept just doesn't fit. Don't think I haven't tried, I have. It's just most of those women want me for my high social standing. In case you haven't noticed, and I'm sure you have, I'm not exactly normal. I was raised to notice the things no one else does, and to create a portrait of people, and determine who's the guilty one."
"And what would those who raised you think of relationship status?" Kai queried. "Surely one of the girls you've met appeals to you."
"That's the thing, Kai. My father was detective, my mother was a detective, I come from a long line of police work." Lloyd continued. "My parents didn't get married until they were thirty, my uncle didn't marry at all. With any luck I'll end like him. And the answer is 'no,' not a single women, as per correction of girls, has ever appealed to me."
"You're positive? Not a single woman? Not even Cyren?" Kai pointed to a young, black haired woman in a skintight, glittering red dress. Lloyd profiled her out loud.
"Cyren Roux." Lloyd began. "Age 23. Works for the New Ninjago printing company. Nosy. Hops from topic to topic faster than a meadow jumping mouse."
"See, there you go again." Kai complained. "Your profiling. I told you, that drives people away. You treat everyone you meet like a suspect in a crime scene."
"Everyone is a suspect, Kai." Lloyd replied, then he gestured out to the people enjoying the New Year's party. "You see these people here? They are all guilty of some sin. They have all committed an evil deed, and will never admit to it because of their regret over said evil deed. I have never been allowed to forget that." Lloyd sighed, finishing off the same conversation he'd been pestered about for the past few months with the same ending. "I guess it's time for me to make my leave."
He reached behind him for a shot glass filled with vodka. Lloyd never drank professionally, but he wouldn't turn his nose up if the opportunity for scotch or brandy showed itself either. Lloyd downed the alcohol in seconds, put the glass back on the counter, and pressed twenty dollars against the wooden bar. "Keep the tip." He muttered.
Lloyd knew Kai's eyes were following him all the way out the door, but said nothing about it. The crisp night air stung Lloyd's face as he began walking down the sidewalk. His apartment was only five blocks, something he figured he could handle. No need for a taxi so late at night anyway. Lloyd counted the seconds, watching the large clock tower in the distance move slowly inch along until 12:03. Not too far now. I should be home in about fifteen minutes. Lloyd concluded, timing his walking speed as per usual. He passed by multiple buildings, noting the little details; cracks in the cement, bricks shifted a centimeter out of place, patterns flickering lights.
Lloyd paused, his eyes turning over to the other end of the street, where a shadowy figure slid elegantly through a window into the Ninjago Museum of Natural History. Lloyd made a split-second decision and crossed the street before he could even consider the consequences. He edged into the alleyway, and took hold of the metal piping the shadow used beforehand. He didn't dare look down; he already knew he had to be thirty feet of the ground at the least. He, almost just as agile as the shadow, slipped into the window. When his feet were planted on the ground, he did a quick sweep of the area, catching little details along the way, and deeming it safe to enter.
His first clue of the what type of crime came he was dealing with was a man, unconscious on the floor. Lloyd moved forward quickly, concerning himself with the man's condition. He knelt down and pressed two fingers against the man's jugular, and was relieved to find a pulse. Lloyd shook the man's shoulder, and hissed loud enough for the victim to hear: "Are you okay?" The man responded with a tired moan, and Lloyd narrowed his eyes. Injured, but breathing and alive. Head trauma to the back of his skull, most likely induced from a blunt object. Judging by his attire, he's a night guard. So this crime is a form of breaking and entering, most likely a robbery. Lloyd noted the silent alarm that had been triggered, probably by the thief who was already in the building. So the police have already been contacted... lousy thief.
Without so much as assessing the rest of the museum, Lloyd located a set of elegant stairs. He crept forward on the balls of feet, silently sneaking down the steps and into the jewelry section. All thieves love shiny and valuable things. Chances are, they're probably in the priceless jewelry section. Lloyd continued sneaking out across the linoleum until he stood the center of the museum floor. He stood there, and instantly noticed an empty display. The thief had already emptied the glass container.
"Well, well, well." Lloyd froze, listening to feminine voice tainted with a saccharine, sickly sweet verve. "Detective Lloyd Montgomery Garmadon. I didn't think you'd show."
From the shadows behind the empty display, a woman appeared. Despite being slender, she wasn't curvaceous or particularly beautiful. But Lloyd would admit she was pretty. She wore almost all black, and a blood red ruby attached to a silver chain rested on her chest - the stolen jewel. Her skin was rough and tan, and her deep, thick violet hair billowed out behind her.
Lloyd began profiling her, but was unsuccessful in most areas aside from appearance. The problem; he didn't know her. He knew a rough 87% of New Ninjago City's population, but this specific individual must have been part of the 13% he was unfamiliar with. Lloyd straightened his composure, appearing to look tall and menacing, glowering his scarlet eyes.
"Should I know you?" He inquired. The woman smirked.
"I should think not." She replied. She moved fast and lithely, similar to that of a feline. She bounded over to Lloyd, performing cartwheels and handsprings along the way. She landed before him, a threatening glint in her eyes. However, even when the switchblade was held at knife-point against Lloyd's throat, he didn't flinch. He kept his hands in his pockets, doing no other than adjusting his head position to something more comfortable. "My name is the Master of Form. I've been raiding museums all around this city. But in all my short years I never thought I would've attracted your attention."
"Well, you must've been trying really hard this time, because I've never seen you up until tonight." Lloyd responded. The Master of Form chuckled deeply, then removed the blade from Lloyd's neck.
"Maybe, but perhaps you've heard of me." She implied.
"Oh, I've heard of you." Lloyd commented. "You're most recent theft was just down the road last month to that jewelry store on Travence Avenue. The police have warned me not to get involved for fear of you 'challenging me'. Of course that doesn't mean I didn't keep myself well informed."
The Master of Form hummed thoughtfully.
"No wonder you have high social standing." She complimented, getting close to his face, sneaking her hands seductively around his neck. Lloyd didn't blanch at the sudden, unwanted movements. He was so used to women doing that whenever they got the chance that he even stopped raising an eyebrow in surprise. "The rumors were true. Oh, so clever, and your intelligence and split-second decisions are legendary among the police force. They say you've cracked more cases than any other detective or officer within the station. I suppose my reason for being caught tonight have already made themselves known to you. After all, you said it yourself."
"You want to challenge me to catch you." Lloyd said simply. "Because no matter how many detectives get involved, no one ever catches you. I suppose you were looking for a thrill, and figured that since I was the best, I could give that thrill to you."
"That's correct." The Master of Form had gotten so close to Lloyd that their mouths were only centimeters apart. Lloyd hardly blinked. The Master of Form seemed to have noticed his lack of response, and in a snake-like manner, she removed herself from him. At that moment, Lloyd hissed in pain, for once not noticing one how she managed to get the switchblade past his vision, even for a second. He felt the thin slit across his collarbone, and the blood leaking through his initially white dress shirt. How did she- Lloyd didn't get much time to think about it. Before long, the Master of Form had slipped back into the shadows. "I'll see you again soon, detective. Meet me, Valentine's Day, in the Tower of Diamonds. 8:25 PM. Can I count on your arrival?"
Lloyd recognized that name, as a tower that shows off some particularly gorgeous diamonds, some even fashioned into statues. Overall, just one of the smallest diamonds would be worth a solid thousand dollars. Lloyd figured he'd appear. After all, her knife had marked him as her next opponent. No getting out of it now. Instead of answering or objecting, he made his way out of the museum where the police had finally arrived. A rather tall and muscular man with dark hair approached Lloyd, putting a hand on his uninjured shoulder.
"Lloyd, what happened in there?"
Lloyd profiled the man. -Cole Mitsuko. Male. Age twenty-six. Married to the once former Seliel Chevalier. Works with the police force.
"Master of Form." Lloyd answered without miss a beat.
"The Master of Form?" Cole queried, almost panicked. "Are you okay? Did she take anything?"
"I'm alright. Just a cut. Nothing your wife can't patch up." Lloyd gestured to the crimson stain on his collarbone. "As for the museum, nothing was stolen." Cole watched in amazement as Lloyd pulled out the ruby the Master of Form once had around her neck. He pressed it into Cole's palm, then continued. "I rescued this from her grasp. Fortunately, I don't think anything else was stolen."
"Thank you, Lloyd." Cole said gratefully. "If you need a medic, Seliel is over by the ambulance. She can help you."
Lloyd thanked Cole, and headed over to where a women with wavy, bright fuchsia hair stood. Lloyd automatically, like everyone else he'd met, began profiling her. –Seliel Mitsuko (Chevalier). Female. Age twenty-four. Works as a paramedic with the police force.
"Are you alright there, detective?" Seliel asked as Lloyd shed his coat and unbuttoned his shirt a few inches, struggling to loosen the vibrant green tie. He showed the cut to her as an answer, decisively choosing not to speak as the nurse applied disinfectant and healing ointment. He let his train of thought wander to the Master of Form, conjecturing about how the lithe female had slipped past his senses. He narrowed his red eyes in anticipation, exploring this line further. So many questions, so little answers. He came to a swift conclusion once Seliel had finished bandaging his injury, that he could develop a thought out profile of this women. He needed more answers. He needed to play the game this deceitful women had left for him.
Alright, Master of Form. Let's begin. I'll play your sport. Be warned though; the game is afoot, and I will not lose.
February 14th | 1952 | Friday | 8:20 PM
The night air was chilled with February's love-stricken aura. The stars twinkled, revealing patterns in the night sky. Two figures stood before a brick tower, embedded with crystal windows that would normally glitter brilliantly in the sunlight. Condensed, frozen air was let loose into the night, indicating steady breathing from the two figures. Around these figures, multiple police cruisers, which were silenced and darkened, were parked surrounding the tower. Supposedly, the Master of Form would not escape this time. Though, Detective Garmadon begged to differ.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Cole asked once more, even though all the times he had asked his friend prior, Lloyd's answer was still 'yes.' Lloyd refused to back out from a challenge, especially since this distinct one would be much more nerve-racking. Not that Lloyd thought he couldn't handle it. He was ready to take on the Master of Form, no matter how much Cole had pleaded him to step away for fear of the chaos that would reign during their battle.
"I'll be fine, Cole." Lloyd answered. "I can manage her fine. Just remember, this isn't the night we catch her. You're just on standby in case she does anything unpredictable to the point that not even I know what's she's up to. Tonight, I'm just gleaning information from her actions. I probably won't get much, so don't expect me to come out with too much on her. But report what I do find out."
Lloyd didn't wait for Cole to protest, and continued on into the Tower of Diamonds. He didn't spend time looking at the shining scenery, and continued to the top where he knew the woman would be waiting for him. The ten flights didn't last long, and by the time he reached the top, his golden watch read 8:25. Just on time. He muttered wandered past a double helix made of solid crystal, then made his way over to a blocked off exhibit. He thought once, then hopped the velvet rope to stand in the center of a long, red carpet. At the end, an, intricate, golden throne sat stationed beautifully. Sure enough, the Master of Form was sheathed in diamonds as she reclined in the throne lackadaisically.
Her appearance had changed since their last meet up. Instead of her hair appearing windblown out behind her, it was tamer, and pulled into high pony-tail; which she twirled in her fingers seductively. Like usual, she wore almost all black. Although it seemed to be a latex top with smooth black pants. The same dark fabric, latex, made up her boots and shoulder length gloves.
She narrowed her eyes mischievously and licked her lips dangerously.
"So you are game, detective." She inclined. She slipped off the throne, stalking towards Lloyd with the grace of a ballerina. "Happy Valentine's Day. Oh, what fun this will be." The Master of Form tugged at his green tie, and he allowed himself to be pulled towards the throne. The Master of Form sat him down on the glistening chair, pushing him down until his back was against the hard metal surface. Lloyd kept on his bored demeanor, molding it into a mask the thief wouldn't see through. She placed her arms on the rests of the large throne fit for a king. "Well, shall we get started? "
"Gladly, miss." Lloyd answered, looking anything but glad. "Tell me, when we first met, you said my name. Of course I knew my social standing meant something, but you went as far as to call me 'Montgomery.'" Lloyd pointed out. "I've never told anyone my middle name. Not even my closest friends. How did you know that?"
"I have a widespread network of people I can contact through any means necessary in the blink of an eye." The Master of Form answered. "I have many, many forms of persuasive tactics that would get anyone who opposed me into a funeral home in less than hour."
"Persuasive tactics?" Lloyd questioned, still unmoving. "Like blackmail? Bribery?"
"Something along those lines." She bit her bottom lip, then proceeded to climb closer to the detective, until eventually she was straddling his hips. She pressed her hands into Lloyd's collarbone, pushing him down so she towered over him. Lloyd complied, simply allowing the Master of Form to have her way. Still he didn't change his indifferent expression. It continuously matched his emotions on the inside. Overall, he was still unaffected by the heat of her body.
"Anything else I need to know about you?" Lloyd asked another question. "Or is that all your going to answer tonight?"
"Answers come with a price, detective." The Master of Form she said tauntingly. "You of all people should know that. You're just going to have to keep playing until you know everything. Of course, I might tell you a little more about me, for a certain cost. If you're willing to pay it."
"Sorry, miss." Lloyd shook his head, knowing exactly what she wanted. "But I guess I'll be waiting a little bit longer."
"That's a shame." The mistress pouted, but she had yet to remove herself. Lloyd involuntarily shifted his position, causing his hips to rub involuntarily against the miss' thighs. Lloyd noted the way her jaw clenched, and how the roguish fire in her eyes instantly died out. But Lloyd had his answers. It was too late for the mistress to take back her actions. Far too late. "Well, until next time detective. I look forward to our second date."
Information gathered:
The Master of Form has a long network of contact to an incredibly high extent.
The Master of Form had a hidden agenda that I have already figured out.
Well played, mistress. But you've lost this round.
March 22nd | 1952 | Tuesday | 11:52 PM
So unlike him to be late. She mused. The Master of Form had been waiting for her opponent, who of course, either decided not to show or was tardy. I hope I didn't scare him off.
After perhaps another five minutes, she became sick of his no-show attitude, wondering what could be keeping the detective from arriving. Intriguing. I didn't know he would flake off this time. Well, he's going to have to learn the rules of my game sooner or later. One of them: tardiness will not be tolerated. No exceptions.
The mistress opened a glass display from the second hand jewelry store and decided on a glimmering, sapphire necklace. After strapping it around her neck, she pulled a tube of red lipstick from he belt, and hastily scrawled a message on the glass display she'd stolen from. She glanced at the clock which ticked slowly, revealing it was now midnight. There were voices in the distance, but by then she had gone. She waited in the alleyway for the detective's reaction.
"No, Kai, that's final." That was the detective's voice.
"You know you can't avoid this forever, Lloyd." That voice belonged to none other than Kai Smith. The Master of Form knew his family secrets a little too well. "You didn't even try to get to know her this time. You don't know what Selma is like; give her chance."
"I did."
"For five seconds!"
"Five seconds is all I need to get a read on a twenty-six year old, married woman, who also has a kid, and happens to, along side her husband, work for the Anacondrai Cult. Which is currently run by your girlfriend's crime lord father."
"Again with the profiling!" This time Kai was rather annoyed.
"What am I supposed to do with a woman like her?" Lloyd queried, investigating the store.
"That's not the point." Kai argued. "I'm talking about your ability to ward people off by telling them about themselves. They don't want to hear about themselves, they want to get to know you. If you keep up with that terrible, automatic habit, it's going to come back and bite you. I told you, it's drives people away."
Interesting, detective. The mistress smirked. I didn't know you were romantically frustrated. That just makes this all the more enjoyable.
April 13th | 1952 | Friday | 12:04 PM
"Alright, spill." Kai smirked, scrutinizing his best friend as he seated himself across from the older man. "What did you think?"
"What did I think?" Lloyd raised an eyebrow, showing little to no interest in the blind date his friend had set him up with earlier in the morning. "She was better than most of the women I meet. But that doesn't stop her from having a criminal record."
Kai pursed his lips, then sipped his coffee.
"That's all you can think about?" Kai inquired with a tone of annoyance to his voice. "Her criminal record? Yeah, sure, she spent a few months in the city jail. But, she's reformed. You like her, don't you?"
"I wouldn't say I 'like' Ms. 'Toxic' Kita." Lloyd replied, referring to the woman's criminal name. "But I filed her away as a future acquaintance."
Kai sighed, massaging his temple. He squeezed his eyes shut, took a deep breath, and continued to speak.
"Acquaintance, huh?" Kai muttered. Lloyd seemed so disinterested in the conversation that he began stirring his coffee. "Are you seriously so focused on chasing down the Master of Form that you won't even pay attention to my advice anymore? Hey, you know I'm only doing this for your own good. A guy like you deserves someone special in their life, a female to precise. Someone to love unconditionally. Someone more than an acquaintance or friend. Someone who completes you. Lloyd, you're going to be twenty-two in seven months. Time doesn't slow down, not even for you. One day you're going to be wishing you would've done something to find that special person."
Lloyd sipped his coffee, half-heartedly listening, but thinking as he listened. That one question about women always repeating itself in his mind. "Of the woman you have met in all your years, not one has interested you?" Lloyd pondered this, asking himself that same question. Not a single woman has ever kept my attention long enough for it to mean something. Except maybe one. The Master of Form. Out of all the woman I could have, whom would be glad to have me as a husband... why is it that the only woman who intrigues me has to cause me so much distress?
April 13th | 1952 | Friday | 3:12 AM
Lloyd's breath was heavy as he chased after The Master of Form's retreating figure. I didn't realize she was so fast. Lloyd huffed as she vanished around a corner. He veered around the same turn and sprinted to keep following her. He was only an arms length away from her, and yet no matter how far he reached. Why did she have to wear her hair in a side braid, tonight? He hissed in his after thoughts. Though Lloyd didn't complain anymore, and used his hyper observant senses to look for a way to trap her. His eyes caught a wing that would no doubt lead a short cut where he cut her off.
Without another thought he veered down that path, propelled his feet forward, and launched himself forward. In that second he felt his body weight tackle a slim figure to the linoleum floor. The skitter of jewels across said floor was music to Lloyd's ears. His breathing and her breathing had gone ragged.
"I... have... you... now." Lloyd heaved, pinned her wrists above her head. He took a moment to regain his composure, then appropriated his stature so that the Master of Form was secure under his grasp. "You can't run away this time. I've already called the cops. No more of your tricks."
The Master of Form giggled a bubbly laugh, making a grimace cross Lloyd's face.
"Really, detective?" The Master of Form managed a very small amount of movement, however her vantage point made Lloyd vulnerable. "Have you really?"
Lloyd felt the Master of Form's hot breath on his neck and loosened his grip uncomfortably. Although a small window of opportunity, the miss seized her chance and shoved the distressed detective off her body. Lloyd stumbled, and before he could comprehend the situation, he he fell to his back. By the time he got back on his feet, the Master of Form had vanished; her same upbeat laughter still echoing inside the museum.
May 14th | 1952 | Monday | 2:15 PM
Lloyd knocked on the door, feeling no need to double check the address. His photographic memory assured him he had the right apartment. I have you now, Master of Form. You're not the only one with a widespread knowledge of New Ninjago City. The door to the apartment swung open, revealing a petite, middle aged woman with short, neat brown hair.
"Excuse me, Ms. Caruso?" The woman nodded to acknowledge he was correct. "My name is Detective Garmadon. May I?"
The woman seemed to go on the offensive, and she stepped back defensively. She almost closed the door on the detective's face, babbling all the way.
"Look, if this is about my daughter, I've told every detective that comes here the same thing about her. I've said everything I know." Lloyd calmly placed his hand on the door, stopping the hinges from crushing his hand.
"I'm not looking for trouble." Lloyd said. "I just want to know. I don't really have much information on her, and I'm supposed to be the best detective in the station. I can't keep going into these operations blind. See, your daughter recently challenged me to a sport of cat and mouse. Mischievous that one is. If it's not too much trouble, we don't even have to talk. I just want to see her former home."
"I..." Ms. Caruso almost looked hesitant, then caved to Lloyd's plea. "Alright. You may come in."
"Thank you." Lloyd said gratefully, walking into the quaint apartment. "I appreciate your time, Ms. Caruso. And I apologize for for intruding. I wish I could make this easier on you."
"I've long since gotten over the shock of Camille's disappearance." Ms. Caruso explained as she led the detective down to the now aforementioned Camille's room. "It still hurts, yes, but I've learned to leave my depression behind and hope that Camille gets pulled back onto the right path."
"Camille?" Lloyd questioned. "So that's her name."
"Yes, Camille is my daughter's name." Ms. Caruso snapped. "Not whatever nom-de-plume she's running around using."
Lloyd decided not to comment on Ms. Caruso's anger, and instead followed her down the short hallway until they reached Camille's living quarters. Of course most of it had gone untouched, which allowed Lloyd the maximum gold mine of information. He stepped forward, investigated the room. He glanced at a calendar, noted an amethyst engagement ring, and sought out more details. In five minutes he had finished. With a smirk, he turned politely to Ms. Caruso.
"Thank you for your time, Ms. Caruso. That will be all."
May 16th | 1952 | Wednesday | 12:43 AM
Camille lithely stepped towards a jewel case, and using her fingertips, she lifted the lid. She snaked her hand into the display and licked her lips eagerly to find a particularly well-cut gem - It glimmered in the moonlight that poured through the high windows.
"Camille Caruso..."
Camille stopped at the sound of her name, and sucked in a sharp breath. She turned, and watched curiously as Lloyd Garmadon, sitting down with his feet propped up on an antique pioneer table, placed a thick, manila file on the sanded down surface.
"Age twenty-one as of today." Lloyd nodded his head in congratulations. "Happy Birthday. Let's see, been in the thieving business since you were seventeen-years old. Hm, that's actually very interesting. I started detective work when I was sixteen. So we have something in common. Continuing on, you were reluctantly engaged to a successful business man's son, who had been promised any girl he could ever want, and he chose you. You ran away from home as an act of defiance because you refused to be the boy's wife. What's his name? Shane Zhang-Li. Street name: Shade. A shadowy business he's caught up in, am I right?"
For some reason, Lloyd felt on top of the world. He finally had the Master of Form right were he wanted her. She was a deer frozen in the headlights. Lloyd felt a smug grin pull at his lips, but he refrained from showing off.
"So. You know then?" Camille asked. Steadily, with the glittering gem still in hand, she started forward. "Just that much?"
"Oh, I know a lot more than just that, Camille." Lloyd backed his chair out from the table, and it made a screeching noise as he did so. "I know. So much more."
"Like what?" Camille queried with an unsure feeling rising within her.
"Perhaps that your father was a drunk." Lloyd said shamelessly. "He beat you once or twice in your youth. Your mother was compassionate and took most of the beatings for you. Nice lady. Very nice lady. Anyway, before and after your father died, involved with the Zhang-Li company I believe, you and your mother unwillingly forced yourself to commit tatemae. The act of pretending everything is alright, when it really isn't."
Camille took a deep breath and only responded before she would disappear for three months.
"You know, detective. Kai was right. Your profiling is a bad habit...
It drives people away."
August 31st | 1952 | Sunday | 3:27 PM
The thing about me and women... Lloyd supposed, observing almost ruefully the busy streets that bustled with people. Leaned up against an abandoned, red brick building, he went deeper into thought, is that it's never meant to be. Lloyd paused, then delved a little farther past his normal act of musing. Now the thing about me and Camille... is that it's confusing as hell. Dammit, I don't understand. Why don't I understand? What is this woman doing to me? Is she even a woman, or still just a girl anyway? I mean, she looks so young... So young, yet I'm so ready to just make her mine.
Whatever the case. Why is it when whenever she's around I get really hot? Why do I shudder whenever she touches me? Why does she consume all my thoughts? Why does she make me insane? Why does she make me feel this unwanted, unparalleled lust? This feeling I've never had before? Why does she make me want to pin her to a bed and just follow my instincts? Why does she make me want... her? Why DO I want her? Why does she intrigue me? Dammit, is this what Kai meant when he talks about how Skylor drives him nuts? If so, then why? Why Camille in the first place? She's a criminal; a petty jewel thief.
Yet, Camille still manages to make my blood pump in anticipation. She knows how to get under my skin and irritate the hell out of me, but it's like she only has lighthearted intentions. She can make me hyper and lustful and angry all at the same time. She can press her body up against me and I'll actually ENJOY her presence. No other woman makes me feel that way. They've all made me detached from reality, made me resign to only making them acquaintances. I should ask Kai if his romantic influence is rubbing off on me, because clearly I can't seem to control myself anymore.
Jeez. This is what happens when I spend too much time thinking. Lloyd finished his meditative, contemplative session, and continued off towards his apartment.
September 1st | 1952 | Monday | 2:13 AM
Lloyd had fallen into a deep, dreamless slumber. He had been off and on between the sweet addicting world of darkness and the dreary awareness of being wakeful. He finally managed to finally lose himself into the blackness of thoughtless rest when approximately and hour later his eyes snapped open. He stiffened when he felt soft, delicate fingers brush lightly against his cheek, accompanied by hushed whispering. In a split second, Lloyd shot up, causing whatever person in his room to spring back and attempt to escape with secret identity in tact. However, Lloyd was too fast, and his hand was switching on his lamp; his feet planted on the floor; and the person revealed.
"Camille?" Lloyd queried. He almost couldn't believe the sight before him. The Master of Form stood in front of him, lazily dressed in (black) sweat pants and the same shade shirt which was two sizes too big on her. Although Lloyd couldn't find it in himself to really care since he probably looked positively pathetic in his white t-shirt and felt, grey sweatpants.
"Yes?" The jewel thief returned; answering a question with a question.
Lloyd remained silent for a moment as everything reeled in. Then he raised his hands defensively and started speaking in a disbelieving tone.
"Okay, first. Creeper, much?" Lloyd's eyebrows knit together as he felt the spot on his cheek Camille had been touching earlier. "Second. I'm glad to see you."
"Glad to see me?" Camille asked, crossing her arms. Lloyd bit his lip, remembering their last get together and how he had screwed it up by being inconsiderate.
"Yeah. Camille. I'm sorry." Lloyd apologized, refusing to make eye contact. "I am, so sorry. I shouldn't have done what I did, and I regret that. Trust me, I do."
"Well, at least I got an apology." Camille huffed, and turned for the door (Lloyd faintly recalled that he stupidly forgot to lock the damn thing). Lloyd, a little panicked and with lack of a better term to describe his emotion, marched forward, slammed the door shut (this time making sure to lock it), and dragged Camille back towards the warm light of the lamp.
"Oh, no you don't." Lloyd hissed. "Don't even think about it. You aren't going to disappear on me again. Especially since last time you were gone for three months. Three. Solid. Months."
Camille didn't say a word; more accurately she didn't even get a word out before Lloyd cut her off with a groan.
"I don't get you, Camille Caruso." Lloyd leaned in close, holding her wrists tightly. "Woman. I understand that me and woman don't go together. But you..." Another groan. "I don't understand you at all. Not even in the slightest. Why?"
"You want me to answer that question?" Camille snarked.
Lloyd ignored her.
"Why do you make me feel like I'm high on some kind of drug? Why does my heart beat so hard it feels like it's going to burst out of my chest? What are you doing to me, Camille?" Lloyd looked into her eyes; scarlet meeting chocolate. "Why do you make me want to do this?"
A second later Lloyd's lips were planted firmly against Camille's in a chaste kiss. For a moment, Lloyd thought he was going crazy. Then he realized Camille was kissing him back. The world stopped spinning and time completely froze. When it came back into focus, Camille broke away first. Both of their breathing had gone ragged, but they were both smiling.
"There's no diplomatic answer for love, detective." Camille whispered. "There's only emotion. Something you clearly weren't raised to recognize. Don't worry, I'll teach you."
It was Camille's turn to kiss Lloyd, and the detective relished in every second of it. Their kiss deepened, their tongues dancing in the caverns of their mouths. They broke apart and joined back together, only separated for air for a few seconds. Lloyd felt his arms slip around Camille's waist, and he could tell Camille was snaking her arms around his neck; their bodies were close; close enough that they could feel each others' body heat. Lloyd felt the sudden urge to try something he'd never done, and dare he try it?
Screw it all to hell. Apparently love doesn't have a diplomatic answer. Lloyd thought. Eagerly, he slipped his hands down to Camille's hips and pulled her close so that below the belt was only separated through clothing. She didn't seem to protest, so Lloyd continued.
"What are you doing?"
"Something about second base."
Camille seemed satisfied with the answer, and let Lloyd continue where he left off. She tensed multiple times as he pressed into her. Her breathing intensified to a heavy pace. But somehow, Camille found that the movement was strangely satisfying. So she let Lloyd have control.
"Jump." He hissed. Camille complied, allowing Lloyd to carry her to his bed. He lightheartedly tossed her on the mattress, and she landed with a springy flump! Before she could recoil, Lloyd was on top of her. He snaked his arms up underneath her shirt while as he kissed her neck. Camille allowed herself a little control, and she started pull the detective's shirt off over her head.
There was a blur in between most of the night in Lloyd's head. Most of what he could remember involved a satisfying relief and an explosion of ecstasy. By the time morning had hit and the sun was rising into the sky so night could make way for dawn, all Lloyd could remember of the words said that night in a thrumming confession was Camille's end game line.
"Meet me back where it all started at midnight on October first. We'll finish our game there."
October 1st | 1952 | Saturday | 12:00 AM
Lloyd's dark scarlet eyes made contact with Camille's creamy brown irises. They searched each other. The end rapidly approached, leaving the grand finale of the game up to the detective and the jewel thief. Camille stepped forward, decked out head to toe in every single jewel in the entire Ninjago Museum of Natural History. Lloyd spread his arms out, allowing Camille to run to him in a hug. He whispered sweetly to her, pressed his lips on her's gently as he breathed in the thick scent of petrichor and freshly cut grass. Something you might only smell after hanging out in the country side.
By then, it was too late for Camille to escape. An officer came to take her away, and the jewels were placed back to where they were supposed to be. Behind glass. And Camille was going to where she was supposed to be. Behind bars.
Lloyd could feel her slipping from between his fingers. He accepted this game, and how he paid the price for falling in love.
"Sorry, Camille. But you lose."