Author's Note: A reminder that this will be a M-rated fic. It will containing cursing, violence, and sexual situations. Warning was given.
Rule Number 2: Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot is Not the Best Combination.
He tried looking for Marie but she was far gone. Sid came back to his empty little apartment in East Hillwood. It was just like he had left it. Clean from top to bottom with everything in it's place. Dust had began to collect. He could see it from the moment he walked through the door.
The thoughts are accelerating inside his head. He wanted them to slow so he could breathe but they wouldn't. His breaths came in gasps and he felt like he was going to black out. His heart is hammering inside his chest like it belongs to a rabbit running for its skin. The room spins and he squatted on the floor, trying to make everything slow to something his brain and body can cope with. He felt so sick. He wanted to call an ambulance but the phone is too far away, it's too far away, it's too far away. He doesn't know who to call, what's his number, who to call, too far away, he's gone, he went, breathe, gone, what number, too far away... blackness... creeping blackness... He's on the floor in a ball- the foetal position. Where is he, what's my name, who to call, what's the number, the stairs are too steep, the room is spinning...blackness...he's gone…
Hours later he wakes up to the banging on the door. His head his pounding, his face still feels hot. He felt the need to scrub, to cleanse himself. He was shaking. He needed to clean up. All of his fears and irrational thoughts were returning. There were things crawling him now, trying to attack him, trying to invade his body and kill him.
Screw the door. His chest was heavy and it felt like an elephant was on his chest. Jesus, he needed to clean now. He picked his anxious and tense body up and headed to the kitchen. He grabbed bleach and a rag and scrubbed every surface until his hands started to crack from the bleach.
Once he was finished he collapsed in the middle of his bedroom floor. He felt so much better now, but the burning of his hands irritated him. He went to get some gauze to wrap his exposed, burning hand. There were small cuts all over his hand. He washed it first, which burned immensely then wrapped it fully the gauze.
He needed a drink. Thoughts were coming back. Harold. Helga. Marie. The gun shot. The blood. He was remembering things he didn't want to remember.
Whiskey now, he thought.
He could've sworn he still had a bottle in the kitchen but it wasn't there. He stashed one somewhere. He checked under his bed and found full bottle of Jack Daniels.
Thank God. He opened the lid and started to chug. He tilts his head backwards and takes a long swig of the brown, warm liquid which was now in a half empty container. He sighs as his chest gets warm and the walls of his apartment become a fun house. Sid cleared his throat and tries to get up. He staggers towards his bedroom. His breaths smells of alcohol. He found comfort into the softness of his bed and his drunkenness.
~/~
Monday 10:32 AM.
Sid's head was pounding. He woke up next to a bottle of whiskey and an empty bed. He hated it. He hated being like this. He needed to get control again, starting with getting his job back.
He walked into Hillwood Police Station looking a shadow of his old self. He was wearing last night's clothes. He had a noticeable stubble in his beard. All of his past colleagues looked at him like he was a monster. He headed into the Sergeant's office and his boss looked the same.
"Sidney," The Sergeant's eyes widen and he sighed, "Sit down son."
Sid was defiant, "No sir, I don't need to sit. Listen, I want to come back to the force. I feel so much better."
"You smell like alcohol Sidney."
"Ha, ha come on Serg. A man needs a drink every once and awhile."
"Okay, if it was just one drink let me get your BAC Sidney."
Fuck, his blood alcohol level wouldn't make the cut. He remained silent dumbfounded at his boss's request.
"That's what I thought." The Sergeant, poised as always, gave Sid a stern look. "I like you Sidney. You're one of the best men on the force. I know you're messed up because of this Harold thing but you have got to get passed it or you won't be able to get back to work."
"Y-you're firing me?"
"No, you're suspension will be lifted if you go get some help. What happened to your hand?"
"Ummmm it was a burn."
"Right." The Sergeant slid a piece of paper across the desk. "You call this number. She's a great therapist. Her name is Dr. Bliss. She can see you as soon as today. She can help you. I'll be checking in with her to see if you're going. Swallow your pride and go. You get good results with her and you'll be back to work soon."
"Yes, Sir." Sid got up to leave with his head down.
"And Sidney?"
"Yes Sir?"
"Do yourself a favor and shave."
Did he really look that bad?
~/~
He sucked at letting go of his pride. He sucked at asking people for help. It reminded him of when he was a little boy and used to get beat up. He'd be damned if he let anyone disrespect him the way people did when he was a kid.
He dragged his feet the entire time to Dr. Bliss' downtown office. She owned her own practice and boy was she a busy lady. If it wasn't for his connection with the Sergeant he wouldn't have gotten an appointment. Not that he wanted an appointment anyway.
The older lady stared back at with old wise eyes. Her hair had streaks of grey but he could tell she didn't have an old spirit. Even still, when she looked at him he felt like she was staring into his soul.
"Good evening, Sidney. I am Dr. Bliss. It's nice to meet you."
"Hey Doc."
"I have been a therapist for 20 years now. Everything that is in this session and future sessions if you want to come back is confidential. I specialize in feminist therapy, which means I seek to empower my clients no matter the gender but I consider myself simply a talk therapist in layman's you have any questions for me? I have a full disclosure policy."
"Yea, when is this spirit talk over? I want to get back to work."
"I typically do 8-12 sessions with my clients but I have some clients I've seen for years. It's really up to how well we work together Sidney. What is your goal for this session?"
"My name is SID and I just want to get back to work. My boss made me come here so I'm here."
"Any particular reason you don't want to be called Sidney? I apologize, my documents start that is your birthname."
"My dad called me that all the time. It's annoying, plus Sid is easier. Used to get teased for having a girl's name."
"I see." Dr. Bliss eyed Sid over her spectacles and reviewed his paperwork. He always hated tests. He hated the idea of people judging him from a piece of paper. Dr. Bliss was probably doing just the same. She went on, "From my quick look at your medical records I see you have some issues with anxiety and OCD. Has that been manageable for you as of late?"
"I've been managing just fine Doc." If he made it seem like everything was fine he could get written off to go to work. He knew for a fact he had an anxiety attack this morning but the Doc didn't have to know it.
Dr. Bliss stared back in disbelief, "Riiight what happened to your hand?"
He scratched the inside of his wrist trying to compress the compulsion to take the gauze off and scrub his hands until they bled again.
"Nothing. You know us guys always get into accidents. Was trying to fix something at the house and injured my hand."
"Hm, have you been engaging in substances, alcohol, drugs and yes, weed counts?"
"No, I've been clean as a whistle."
"Let's be honest with each other, Sid. This therapeutic relationship will not thrive if you lie to me. You can trust me but I'm not some magic mystical shaman that can give you some one fix all remedy for the troubles in your life. We need to work together on this." Dr. Bliss folded her hands and placed them in her lap. "Start by being honest. You have been engaging in the past rituals from your OCD. You have been heavily drinking because I can smell the whiskey on your breath and you have been at least having mid-level anxiety from the mannerisms you've been exhibiting such as fidgeting and scratching. If you want me to help you get your job back you need to do the work as well. Got it?"
"Sure, Doc. I won't lie anymore."
"Please tell me about your family life? You can talk about your mom, your dad, girlfriends, or anyone you consider family."
"My dad's name is Ray. Mom is Amy. They met when they were teenagers and had been together ever since. We lived in the lower side of town. Obviously we didn't have money but we did what we had too and made the best of it."
"How has poverty shaped you?"
"Let's get one thing straight, Sid never lived in poverty. My parents worked hard. I may not have had everything other kids had and I may have been teased for that but we weren't in poverty. Sure, some days I didn't eat but I'm still breathing so it wasn't all bad. Don't you sit here and judge me."
"I wasn't judging you. I was simply asking a question. You got very defensive just now. I want to know why and I want you to know I'm not your enemy, Sid."
"Yea, well I've had friends literally stab me in the back so excuse me for not trusting people. I've been beat on and step on for most of my younger years and I am tired of being the little guy getting picked on. It's why I even became a cop. Sure, I enjoy protecting people but something about the badge makes me feel tougher."
"We can talk about the friend if you want to go that route."
"You hear about that cop that was charged with murdering Rhonda Wellington? Yea, that was my partner, my dirty partner. I should've known. I should've been able to protect everyone. I shouldn't have trusted him."
"You cannot dwell on the past Sid. He may have betrayed you but that doesn't your friendship wasn't real and it doesn't make you any less adequate as a man."
"I never said I didn't feel like a man Doc. I am all man, 100 percent man, I mean look at my body. I AM a man."
"You mentioned being picked on, you mentioned your career choice, and you mentioned your family dynamic. All it seems to indicate you have issues asserting your masculinity proper. Your idea of who you are is deeply tied to how manly other people perceive you as and that idea is highly performative Sid. Who says men have to be strong all the time? It's okay to be weak and accept that everything is not okay.I think that's why your anxiety and OCD is returning. You are trying to be something you simply cannot be right now and the pressure is eating you away."
"If I wasn't a real man then how do you think I was about to shoot my own partner in the chest? How am I able to get so many woman then if I'm being 'performative'? I'm the same guy I was before. I am FINE. I am a man."
"I never said you weren't a man but your masculinity is highly fragile right now which is why the drinking and the women are being used as band-aids so to speak. You can only cover up the issue for so long. I must imagine shooting your best friend must be traumatic for you. How have you been sleeping?"
"I drink whiskey until I pass out most nights."
"You must know that's unhealthy. What is that you're running away from? Why can't you sleep? Why can't you handle being sober?"
"When I'm sober I either clean until my hands bleed or I get left to my thoughts. I hate it. I don't want to be like this Doc. I want to be working, I want to come home to beautiful woman every night, and I want to feel normal again. I feel like I'm losing it."
"We can work on that. I have some homework for you. You go home and you sit in those thoughts for five minutes and see where they lead. Write down how you feel, what you were thinking, and your results. I think you really need some introspection. Lay off the whiskey for one night. I also want you to get in touch with your manhood in a positive manner. Find a healthy hobby and outlet."
"I got it Doc."
"Are you in a relationship right now? You brought up woman twice."
"I, I have someone in mind. She's great, but I blew it. Now she loves someone else. I wish I could say I have been a one woman man these past couple months but since her, I try to get rid of her scent but it just stays no matter who I'm with."
"I'm interested in hearing more about this woman and talking about the other women in your hour is up though and I have another client. How do you feel our session went?"
"It went okay. Thanks Doc."
"You're welcome. I will see you in a couple days. And Sid?"
"Yes?"
"Try to decrease the number of times you wash your hands too. You won't have any skin left if you keep it up. Try to clean a little less too. I believe in!"
"Thanks. See you later Doc."
Sid walked out of the office, feeling a little more hopeful. How that woman had picked that deep into his brain in less than an hour was unknown to him? He felt better being able to talk to someone about what was going on with him, but he wasn't sure he ready for the work. He had been to therapy before but that was when he was a kid. Being an adult, you're more stubborn and he could already tell Dr. Bliss didn't accept bullshit. Maybe he was becoming one of those bullshitters he hated so much.
He was hopeful to talk about Helga. Hell, he hadn't even talked to Helga and what happened between them. He felt abandoned. She had moved on so quickly and of course he knew she loved Arnold for practically her whole life but damn! Was Sid really THAT disposable?
If there was one word that described how he felt right now he felt disposable. At work things moved on, Helga was with Arnold, his ex-best friend had moved on to maximum security prison and even his own parents hadn't check on him since he was in the found Sid to be important, to matter in their lives anymore?
He sees a familiar blonde in the waiting area. She had got to be torturing him. Her smell was extremely arousing to him even from that far away.
"Helga?" God, she was still gorgeous.
She blushes. Boy, did he miss her blush. Her hair was coiled into a high bun and she was dressed in a white pants suit. If she was his he'd let her locks run free and have her dress for all to gaze at her beauty. Arnold had her covered up like a nun. She was beautiful. She could've been his.
"Sid, hey. You have an appointment with Dr. Bliss too?"
He could feel the awkwardness in the air. She clearly wasn't expecting to see him nor was he expecting to see remembered how easy it used to be to talk to her but now it felt like pulling teeth.
Sid let out an uncomfortable chortle, "Uh, yea just finished actually. I, I had no idea you went to, you know, talk to someone."
Helga flipped her bang and said, "I've been going to Dr. Bliss for years now. It's great to have someone to work out problems with."
"So what's with the outfit? Going to the Oscars?"
Her baby blue eyes glowed with joy. "Oh no, I'm trying something new. Trying to actually look like an investigative journalist you know?"
"It's nice you got a career change. The journalism, it fits you."
"Yea, I don't have much to investigate since the whole Rhonda thing but if you know anyone that needs help send them my way."
"I will, um Helga, we should go get drinks sometime."
"Yea, I'll see if Arnold would be up for it. Well, I got to go to my appointment now. Bye Sid."
Fuck Arnold. What did Arnold have that he didn't?
~/~
He felt lonely in his apartment. Once he got in he washed his hands exactly ten times before getting into his shower for an hour. He washed until the nagging in his head stop and got out. He wrapped the towel around his waist and plopped down on his bed, He saw the familiar bottle and opened it. The warmth sliding down his throat put him at ease.
He began to drift off and feel the feeling of freedom spread through his body. His chest was warm and his body felt light. He took another big gulp of the whiskey and fell further and further away from sobriety. He knew he wasn't supposed to per Dr. Bliss' but it helped him sleep. It helped him feel better. It help him feel invincible for a few hours. At least when he was drunk his compulsions were quiet.
He looked at the clock. It was 10PM. He needed air. He would be damned if he spent another moment alone in his apartment. He wanted to wake up the next morning with a warm body next to him. At least it would numb him for awhile. As he began to get dressed his phone rung. He hoped it was some woman wanting a fine night out.
To his surprise he heard a sultry voice through the receiver of the phone, "Officer Sid?"
Immediately he remembered why he was so pissed before. Fucking Femme Fatale Marie ran off when he was trying to help her. He had tried to look for everywhere but to she didn't turn up. Now she was falling right into his lap with a simple phone call. God, he couldn't even be a good detective anymore if it was easier for her to find him than for him to find her.
"How the hell did you get my number Marie?"
"So you got my note?" Sid could hear people talking in the background. She was in a public place, which meant she wasn't hiding for the time being.
"Yes, I got your note and Marie isn't even your real name. What do you want?"
"I'm sorry I ran off Sid but I didn't want to wait until morning to look for my sister. I had to go out looking without the police and I found a lead. Can you help?"
"Why don't you go find another cop Marie or whatever your name is? I'm done being used."
"You're Sid the freaking kid. You saved the city. All I've been hearing around Hillwood is how you took down some huge mob boss. I don't want some other cop to help me find my sister, I want YOU, Sid. I want the best."
He had to admit his ego was stroked quite a bit. Someone actually needed his help. He was actually useful. He could actually do some detective work, undercover of course but Marie didn't need to know he wasn't a real cop at the moment. This was his chance to grasp his life back into place.
"What's the lead Marie? I'll help you but no one can know I'm helping you. It's dangerous out here in Hillwood. If people knew you were involved with me they could hurt you. A girl like you doesn't need to make enemies here."
Unless she wanted to end up like Rhonda, dead and six feet under.
Her voice was sultry and amorous, almost a low moan, "I believe we were already involved Officer."
How this woman had the ability to arouse him simply through the phone was a shock? Maybe he really was that lonely? Or maybe she really was that sexy? Maybe it was both?
Sid blushed and tried to play off being turned on. "Yea, yea. Give me the lead."
"Meet me at the Heart Ballroom. Wear a tux. I do hope you clean up just as well you ate my-"
The Heart Ballroom was the go to place for swanky and rich parties. How she found her way there was unknown to him. He did know Marie was resourceful and willing to use her body to get what she wanted. Maybe she found a guy to let her in.
"Alriiiiiiiight." She was making him blush like a damn school boy. Embarrassing. "I'll be there soon."
"Great. I hope you can tango Officer."
The way she said officer made his mouth run dry. She took advantage of the moment and hung up on him.
Did Sid even own a damn suit? God, he was so drunk. He hoped he could pull off the meanest Whiskey-Tango-Foxtrot in all of history. He rummaged through his closet. Black suit and shades it is.
~/~
The dance floor was packed. The ballroom looked like something in a Jane Austen novel. The ballroom was lavished with gold floors and people who glided across it like the world owed them this night. Girls in long, dramatic dresses with elaborate trains and guys with their fine tailored suits filled room. Every person in this room had to be worth millions, just from the jewelry, watches, and expensive clothes they wore alone. This was not Sid's type of party.
He couldn't even find Marie in all of the fabric and diamonds. Then there she was.
In a room full of beautiful people she all he could see. There was something inexplicable about her, perhaps it's her warmth or perhaps it was her confidence. She had hazel eyes that could turn a man into stone just from a side glance. Her dark, raven hair was cascading down her back in loose curls. A single side bang swooped and covered her perfect right eye. Her plump lips were painted scarlet red, which matched perfectly with her red dress. The dress clung to her curves lip a second skin. It draped to ground with a very high slit, revealing a peek of her black garters she had on under her dress. Her breasts were hugged and sitting high, exposing her full cleavage in the strapless, sweetheart number. She was stunning and Sid was immediately caught in the vixen's spell.
"Officer, you made it!" She ran and hugged him like she hadn't seen him in years, like she hadn't just met him three days ago in another city. He craved her warmth. He enjoyed her body pressed up against his, even for a moment.
"How did you even get into this place?" Sid whispered as she pulled back from the hug.
"A girl has her ways." She winks at him and shakes her body so Sid could see every curves clearly moving. She was going to be a handful.
"Right, so what's this tip you have on your sister? I need information to get started on the investigation."
She didn't bother to answer his question. He pulled him to the dancefloor. "Come dance with me, Handsome!"
This girl was crazy. Her sister was missing and she wanted to dance.
So they continued to dance and spin. The lights were twinkling with every step as he spun her in delicate circles, her dark dress billowing out. He used to love things like this, the pressure of a warm hand on his back and the feeling of a small agile body in his control, gliding along the floor. Her body synchronizing with his was intoxicating. He held her body close and wrapped his hands on her wide hips as they swayed back and forth.
"I know you're drunk Officer." She whispered into his ear. Her warm breath made the hairs on his neck stand up.
"I'm not drunk. I'm a little tipsy."
"No sober guy wears sunglasses to a ballroom."
"No sane girl dances this close to a guy she barely knows."
"Touche. Officer."
"Your sister Alicia? Tell me why I'm really here."
"One of these rich, old shits has her. She was here two weeks ago. I just have to find out which one." She loosened her grip around his neck. She becoming distraught.
"And you thought coming here by yourself was okay? If one of these men took your sister how could you possibly avoid being kidnapped too?"
Her head fell into his shoulder, "That's why I called you. You'll protect me Sid."
One minute she was a femme fatale and the next minute she was a woman in desperation. She didn't even tell him her real name. What was this mysterious woman really hiding?
"Marie." He pulls her head up and their eyes lock.
Attraction for Sid was like a magnet. It's something about a beautiful woman that makes him say, "Hm there's something about her…". He is gravitated towards this one person and suddenly an extraordinary woman captivated his attention. The more he learns about the woman, the more he's exposed to her, he grows more and more hungry for more.
But then he'd be uninterested. He'd move on to someone else who attracted him more. No woman ever stuck, unless he counted Helga, who wasn't really his to started with. How then did Sid feel like there was something more with Marie that was special?
"Marie, don't lie to me. You need to tell me what's going on with your sister. I don't care if it's awful. Tell me the truth."
"She's a bad woman, Sid but, but she means well. She just got caught up trying to help me. She came here to protect me."
"Protect you from what?!"
"It's-
The sound of gunshots rang in Sid's ears.
"Get down!" He toppled down on Marie to shield her from any stray bullets.
The gunshots cracked through the air like loud thunder. Everyone jumped and hit the floor. They were coming from all directions. Sid couldn't even pull out his own gun for fear being shot.
His heart was beating fast, his breathing speed up.
No, no, no, not now- He thought.
He began to sweat and his body was getting hot. The sound of bullets took him back to the night he was shot and betrayed by Harold. He could still feel the bullet ripping through his skin and puncturing his insides.
It felt like he was on fire. It felt like he couldn't breathe fast enough. Where was he? Where? He didn't do it. He had to shoot him. He had to. Pop. Pop. A scream. No, it was an accident. He lied. Where was he? Blood. So much blood. Who was he? A cold gun in his hand. He is shaking. He is dying. He is dead.
"Sid, are you okay?" Marie was stirring from under him. She could feel his every bodily movement. "Sid, come back!"
Pop. Pop. Harold. Bullets. A snake. Scrub. He's dirty. He's filthy. He's stained.
Marie yelled, "SID! Please snap out of it?!"
Once the gunshots stopped everyone slowly began to get up. Sirens sounded. He was still breathing heavy but the sirens helped him come down. They relaxed him. He remembered where he was and who he was with.
His name was Sidney. He was protecting Marie. There were gunshots. He had a panic attack. Everything was okay now. He was fine. He wasn't shot and neither was she.
He gets up and helped Marie off the floor.
Marie struck him hard across the face. "Dude, what the hell is wrong with you? Do you have PTSD or something?"
"NO! I'm fine. I'm good. I'm normal."
Why would she even suggest something so preposterous?
She had her hands on her hips and indignantly said, "Well you blacked the hell out there. Pull it together."
What the hell happened to desperate, "you'll protect me Sid" Marie? This girl had more personalities than Sybil.
"Let's get out of here. We can't track this guy down with the cops around."
"Why not? You're a cop aren't you? Can't you work as a cop on the scene. Get some information to help find out who did this."
He would if he actually had his badge buuuuut he didn't.
"Yea but it's complicated coordinating with other officers. Policemen aren't easy to work with." That's the lie he was sticking too. "We need to get your out of here. I'm guessing your sister was trying to protect from this."
Sid picked up a stray bullet at his feet and places it in his pocket. He could ID it at home himself. No use wanting on the force to do it. He didn't need his badge. He could do this on his own.
Once they were safe in his car and none of the officers saw him at the scene, he and Marie sped off.
"What the hell did your sister do? They were shooting to kill tonight."
"She's a spy."
Sid burst out laughing hard. "Riiiiiiight like Mata Hari invading France or some shit. No one does THAT anymore, especially a woman."
"Yea well THIS woman kicked your ass. You remember that and it isn't a joke. She's a secret agent. I'm telling the truth."
"She's a fucking spy? What is she doing like Pink Panther level espionage? You expect me to believe this."
Marie just looked at him with the most serious expression he had seen all day.
Well fuck.
Author's Note: This time around I decided to dabble into some spy mystery genre tropes. Trying my hand at it but primarily it's a romance mystery.
What do you guys think about Marie? Can we trust her? What about the therapy session? And how about Sid and Helga? They'll be talking next chapter. In general, what do you all think?
