Hello, readers!
Here's another little story based off a prompt for my facebook group's shipping event! This prompt was "Your platonic OTP" and you don't get more platonic than Devon and Nichole (not that Devon's too happy about that). So, I thought I'd try something new and wrote this in the first person from Devon's POV! It was a little bit out of my comfort zone since I usually only write Nichole in the first person, but I'm pretty satisfied with how this turned out.
Also, I started making covers for each of these chapters! You can find a big gallery of the covers on imgur, just go to the site and add slash a/BFhJG at the end to go to the album! I don't have covers for all of them yet, but I'm working on it!
Anyway, enjoy this little journey into Devon's mind!
~ Crayola
Star-Crossed
Upon transferring, Devon is assigned a new partner. Rated T.
A month ago, I was chasing down serial killers or booking felony criminals. A month ago, everything made sense and the world was small and fit in a neat little box.
Then, 29 days ago, the Fire Nation attacked.
Just kidding, it was aliens.
And they didn't so much attack as they did—just—exist. In general. I didn't get to see it, but I did see its ship. I guess the guy I was chasing down had been an abductee or something and they were checking in on their investment.
They picked a real winner.
But enough about that asshole. A few days after that, I was approached by someone in charge of a different department. One that dealt in those kinds of encounters.
You know, the fourth kind.
He told me they could offer me counseling if I needed it, but all I wanted was to know more. Aliens were real? The X-Files was an actual thing? Well fuck, why wouldn't I want to be part of that.
They were more than happy to have me—something about preferring people already privy to the information—and pushed the paperwork through.
After yet another background check, I was given the clearance and was added to the roster.
Easy peasy.
"Welcome to the team, Devon. We're glad to have you on board," my new boss greeted me as I entered his office.
"Glad to be here," I said.
"Your new partner should be here any minute. Today's her first day, fresh out of training."
"Not a transfer, like me?"
"Nope. She's got a lifetime's worth of experience with extraterrestrials, but she'll need help from a seasoned FBI agent, so we figured you two were a good match."
I nodded. "She teaches me about aliens, I teach her about the bureau."
He grinned and pointed at me. "Exactly."
A soft knocking came right then, and I turned around to find the possible "she" who was meant to be my partner.
Pretty enough. Looks young.
"Ah, Nichole. Come in."
She paused for a second, just long enough to check all the corners of the room first. "You wanted to see me as soon as I got in?"
Her gaze lingered on me, suspicious and uncertain. "Who's this guy?" was what she seemed to say. I gave her a passive wave and she looked away as if I'd caught her staring or something.
"Yes," our boss said. "I want to introduce you to your partner, Devon Hart."
Some of the tension left her shoulders and she strode up to shake my hand. Firm and determined.
"Devon Hart, this is your partner Nichole Shain. I trust you'll take care of each other out there," he continued, motioning toward the two of us as we were mentioned.
"I look forward to working with you," Nichole said with a nod. She never quite met my gaze.
"The same. Hey, y'know, your name sounds kind of familiar."
She didn't mince words. "Probably saw me on the news a few years back. Though, the official story was terrorist attack."
Bossman Dixon filled in the gaps. "Few years ago, Nichole survived an alien attack. A ship crash-landed carrying a parasitic species. She was the only person to come out of that ship alive."
I raised my eyebrows and looked her over. "What were you doing on the ship?"
"Bad decisions, mostly. Wound up getting captured by one of them," she said. A muscle in her jaw tightened and I decided not to ask for any more details.
Things were starting to make sense, though. The thousand-yard stare as she looked past me, the way she'd scoped the room before entering—
She's seen some shit.
"Well, I'll show you two to your desks."
We followed Dixon out of his office and he pointed us at a pair of desks that were front-to-front. They were empty, save for a little plastic shelf for paperwork and a computer.
I had a box of shit waiting for me, though. My desk wouldn't be empty for long.
"Go ahead and get acquainted. There's just a few more things you need to fill out, mostly for HR. Just a lot of stuff to sign," Dixon said.
Nichole sat down at her desk and ran her hands over the top of it. "Okay, thanks."
Dixon glanced at me, I gave him the thumb's-up, and he nodded. "Alright, I'll leave you to it, then. See me if you have any questions."
The two of us muttered our understanding and I took a seat across from Nichole.
"So, uh, I couldn't help but notice your limp," I pointed out, trying to sound conversational. She seemed to be a lady of few words.
"What about it?"
"Did you injure your legs when the, uh, during the. . . thing?"
Smooth.
"Yes."
"Oh—okay."
I had to let it drop. That dark look that came to her face, though not directed at me, was deterrent enough.
"You're from Colorado, right?"
Nichole had already pulled out the HR paperwork and was dutifully going over it. "Yes."
Man, this girl is closed off.
"You gotten used to the lay of the land here, yet?" I pressed. I was going to pry something out of her if it was the last thing I did.
Maybe I could even get her to smile.
She shrugged and said, "For the most part. Take the bus everywhere."
Okay, that was a start. Kind of. I tested my luck and asked, "Need help finding something fun to do on your time off?"
"I go to the gym and exercise and stuff."
"Sure, but I mean like, sights to see or the big shopping areas?"
Finally, her gaze shifted from her paperwork to me. However, it was a scathing look of disapproval.
"So, because I'm a woman I need to know where the shopping's at?"
Damn she's cranky!
I laughed off her remark and said, "No, no. Everyone's gotta go shopping. I can point you to the cheap places if you're thrifty, or tell you which grocery store is the least busy. . . ."
Her hackles lowered, and she sighed. "Sorry. I just. . .I didn't get much sleep last night. That'd be great."
Alright, I'm in.
"No worries. We all have those days."
Judging by the dark circles under her eyes, she had more than one.
Now didn't seem to be the time to ask her about the aliens she'd encountered. It all still seemed to be a wound not yet healed. I imagined there wasn't a good time to talk about when you'd almost died, but I'd at least wait until the day after we were first acquainted.
"You want to ask."
I looked up to find her staring at me with a tired expression. Feigning ignorance, I asked, "What do you mean?"
"You want to ask what happened to me. You want to hear the story."
Scoffing, I offered an errant wave and leaned back in my seat. "Nah. What's there to know? You're here and alive and it was years ago. If you wanted to talk about it, you'd talk about it."
She studied me for a few seconds as if she was trying to decide if I was lying.
I was, but I was good at it.
Her defenses seemed to come down a little and her shoulders relaxed. "Everyone always wants to know," she muttered.
"Sure," I said with a shrug. "It was probably no easy feat, doing what you did. I'm sure people want you to regale them with your harrowing tale."
Nichole tapped her pen against the tabletop, staring once again at her paperwork. She said, "I guess."
Once again, she was a million miles away.
That only made me more curious. Just what had she gone through?
But I had a lie to maintain.
I indicated at the paperwork in front of her. "Hey, there's going to be plenty more where that came from. Try not to take it so seriously."
"What do you mean?"
"This job is like, eighty percent paperwork. Then it's fifteen percent dealing with scummy lawyers. The rest is actual field work."
She made a face and whined. "Really?"
"Well, it was in my old department. Dunno how this one's gonna turn out. Good thing about aliens and the like is they can't afford lawyers," I pointed out with a grin.
The corner of her lip quirked upward. Almost a smile.
"Yeah, I suppose there's that."
"Alright, so I'll teach you what I know about how this whole FBI gig works, and when you feel up to it, you tell me about aliens and what I should expect," I suggested, shifting to I was leaning forward against the table.
Nichole nodded. "Alright, sure. You've got a deal."
The smile she offered me didn't quite reach her eyes, but I figured there would be plenty of time to coax out a real one while we were partners.
