A/N: I know it's been awhile, so I made this chapter a little longer for you guys. I'll try to start working on the other chapter as soon as I can, since I now have free time. And I am happy to say, that unlike my previous projects, I actually have an idea for how this is going to go. I would also like to announce that I have an Archive Account now, and the first seven chapters of Blue Sector are up on there. I also have a tumblr by the name of CartoonCaretaker. Ask me anything about my stories, or help about writing, I'm there! Please leave a review and if you have been following the story, please consider following it actually! Just press the follow button, you know? Thanks.
Butch is one hundred percent certain he is not a ladies man. At least, he isn't one at the moment. BC, his stone cold, stoic as shit media advisor, looks pretty shaken up. And who wouldn't be, after surviving an assassination attempt. They both sit in office chairs at city hall, in his office. There's a bunch of noise and commotion coming from the hallways. And that can be expected, as Butch just survived an assassination attempt. Someone was trying to kill him already, and he hasn't even done anything.
The office was dark. Butch didn't feel the need to turn the lights on, partially because he knew he was being watched. After Boomer died, they renovated the place with not just bullet proof glass, but also high definition cameras that saw everything. He knew the absence of light was futile when it came to the eyes on the walls, but he wanted to make it a bit harder anyway he could. He sat next to BC, both of them facing his desk.
BC was sniffling a little, and if the lights were on, he'd probably see mascara running down her face. Her hair was still in that cute pony tail though. That was the plus side to this shitty situation. He was silent, not because he didn't know what to say, but because he knew whatever it was he did say to her, it would sound lame. BC was not the type to get swayed by some compliments and empty promises. He'd have to be an award winning actor for her to believe a cheesy line like "Are you okay?"
About five minutes passed, and then the sniffling stopped. BC took a shaky breath, and took tissues out of her purse. In seconds she was back to normal. Almost. The traces of mascara were gone, and he couldn't quite see it in the dark, but he was sure her face was probably red. She stood up and walked over to the wall, turning the lights on.
Turning back to Butch she took out her pager and began to do her job.
"Let's go. We have to clear the trash out the streets before people start to assume things." She said. Butch smirked at her.
"Man, nothing stops work, does it?" He said.
She smiled back. "Nope, nothing at all ."
...
A reporter's job is really simple. Shove a black stick in an important persons face until they give you answers, and you've got a job. It's easy to fend off maybe one or two, or maybe even twelve of them at a time. If you have the right security, and a little muscle. Butch had neither of those things, surprisingly. As he stood in the city hall lobby, a grand waiting area with fancy gilded baseboards and lush red seats, he saw the absolute mob waiting for him. The lobby staff were working tirelessly, trying to figure out who was here for business and who was here for tabloids.
One poor worker ended up getting pushed into a potted plant outside, by a husky brute reporter trying to get in. Butch had no security, just BC. To anyone who was watching them, they might think she was just the Secretary, but for all she's worth BC exuded the aura of an army. She looked really pissed, just staring at the mob.
"Damn vultures. We're gonna have to plow through them to get to the car. You ready?" She glanced his way. He wasn't ready at all. But he nodded yes and followed her through the door. Butch put his hand in his pocket. The same pocket he kept the blue ribbon from Luckys. He wasn't sure where the ribbon came from, but he was certain it wasn't there before the attack. The paparazzi swarmed them. They are relentless in their efforts to get answers. They try to push BC out the way, but she stands her ground remarkably well, and is able to make a path to the limo waiting for them.
When they get inside, she slams the door, and curses. She rests her head on the door, and looks at the pager absent mindedly. Reporters bang on the windows, and Butch is almost scared they might break the glass, but then the limo starts to move away, and they are soon leaving city hall.
Butch looks over at BC, wondering if she has any explanation for the giant crowd they just fended off. But she doesn't even appear to be here, in the car. She's obviously tired, that he can tell from the dark circles under her eyes. BC glances at him.
"You really need to work on the staring thing. No one wants a creep for a mayor." She says. Butch laughs.
"I'll try to. Thanks." He smiles at her. It's the warmest thing in this car.
The silence between them stretches onward to an unreachable end. Butch holds the ribbon out, hoping it'll draw her attention and start some conversation, but BC doesn't notice at all. The limo driver up front drives silently, probably out of respect or something, and the tires make little to no sound at all over the hard, cement roads.
"What did you think of the whisky?" He asks her suddenly.
She looks confused. "Whisky?" She says.
He nods. "At the pub. It's their specialty."
She looks away and answers nonchalantly, "I didn't have anything. I'm not much of a drinker."
Butch takes it at face value. It didn't quite make sense to him though, and he couldn't pin down why. He chalked it up to fatigue, and decided to leave BC's drinking habits in the back of his mind.
...
The limo driver brought them to a luxurious apartment in the Southern part of Town. The apartments were never chosen by the Mayor, but rather by the Advisor the Mayor sees every week. BC got to pick this apartment, and Butch couldn't argue with her sense of style. It wasn't one of those sleek, modern apartments you see on tv, but rather a casual looking one with wooden floors and tackle walls. All of his stuff was here, automatically moved once he was sworn in.
His movie posters, his old banking stuff from when he worked at the firm. Even some of his pictures with his brothers as kids. The apartment was not too big, it was enough for a grown man to live in by himself. Butch remembers when he first moved in, the media was shocked to see him living in such a small, rustic looking place. He felt comfortable though, and wouldn't change his living space to appease the vultures.
His apartment was dimly lit by an over hanging lamp, and dust mites floated in the air, creating a sort of musty jazz club feel to it. BC walked over to one of his desks, and sat down on top of it.
"Your apartment is the only private place I could reach. It's the only space the Suits don't have access to." She said.
"The Suits?" He asked, confused. He grabbed a chair from his small dining table, and sat down by the desk. BC's legs, and his arms shared an uncomfortable distance from each other. But BC didn't seem to mind. Or care.
She looked down at him. "The Suits are what everyone in the office calls the Bodygaurds who watch over you. It's just a silly name." She said dismissively.
Butch sat up straighter. "Oh. So you have names for the other guys, huh?" He asked. "Do you have one for me?"
She laughed harshly. "No, but we could give you one." She says.
"Really? Cause I was thinking something along the lines of 'His Majesty.'"
BC shook her head. "Nope."
"'King of everything Handsome?'"
She shook her head.
""Award winner for Best Mayor.'
"Try again chief."
"'Daddy'?"
"Oh my god." She pushes off from the desk. "No. Just stop. That's too weird, even for you." She's trying to be stern, but she's obviously laughing too hard. Butch smiles. He feels like he has won this round. She turns toward the door, and begins to leave.
Butch calls out to her. "Hey wait, isn't there something you wanted to tell me?" He asks.
She looks confused. "What? No, not really."
Butch stares at her. "Then why'd you come here?"
BC stares at him for a long time. "I..."
She looks away for a moment. "I can hang out with you when I want, can't I?" She says quietly. She then leaves.
She leaves Butch feeling happier then he had all day. And that's saying something, considering all of the stuff that happened in the span of a few hours. All thoughts of breakable glass, ribbons and whiskey leave his mind, as he thinks about all the future times he and BC will hang out together.
As far as first dates goes, that one wasn't so bad.