A/N – Trick or Treat! So I survived Sandy. I was without power and bored out of my mind. This little oneshot came out of nowhere. The minute I got my electricity back, I typed this bad boy out. Banner can be found on my profile. See you at the bottom with a very special "treat".
JamesRamsey managed to decipher my technologically deprived ramblings and helped me get a story out of this. If you're not reading her minific "Cowboys and Angels" what the heck are you waiting for?
Bad Company
I licked my thumb to make it easier for me to grab a hold of the pages. Alphabetizing the hunting licenses wasn't necessary but it would make life easier...for me anyway. Not that anyone seemed to use the systems I had tried to put in place; Charlie was old school and while he was extremely proud of me for graduating the Police Academy at such a young age, he wasn't too fond of the filing system I tried to get him to implement. He'd much rather keep it all in his head or have stray Post-its strewn all over his desk.
I remembered the conversation we had had years ago when I was fresh out of the Academy. I was eager to get some experience and volunteered at the station. My first task had been trying to organize the administrative nightmare he called an office.
Chuckling, I had playfully nudged his shoulder, pushing him out of the way. I opened the filing cabinet and looked over my shoulder. "Dad, it's time to move into the twenty-first century. What if someone needs to find an incident report and you're not here?"
He mumbled something that sounded like 'wet-behind-the-ears rookie' and 'new-fangled hippie crap' as he shook his head. "Ever hear of the saying, 'if it ain't broke, don't fix it,' kid?" Charlie's mustache had twitched to the side as he ribbed me. "I'm always here, Bells. And since when has anything happened in Forks that actually needed to be documented?"
I had looked away, knowing exactly the last time he thought writing up an actual report was warranted. He had let his heart get the better of him and instead of being Chief Swan, the paragon of level-headedness, he was ruled by his emotions. After seeing how devastated Edward had left me alone and cold on the forest floor two long years ago, he demanded I file a restraining order even though there was really no cause. He seemed to think his baby girl's broken heart was more than enough reason. He wanted to make Edward pay. Nothing would have pleased him more than to see Edward behind bars so he could dish out some of his own brand of Swan justice.
It had been Sue that finally got him back to thinking straight. That wasn't who he was and even though his only daughter was hurting, Sue explained to him that it would kill her to see the man she loved and respected turn into someone like that. After her little confession, Charlie quickly returned to his old self. She also assured him the Cullens probably wouldn't be returning to Forks any time soon. She had said it with so much conviction I had wondered if she really knew they would never come back.
Five years later and I was back in the same spot, going through the same motions, re-filing the scant paperwork he had into the system I had tried to implement all those years ago. Apparently you really couldn't teach an old dog new tricks.
Ever since that day back at the police station, Sue has managed to keep Charlie wrapped around her finger. With me being back in Forks for a visit and able to pitch in at the station, she even talked him into taking a long weekend to celebrate their fifth wedding anniversary. Charlie leaving the station for more than eight hours at a time was unheard of. Deputy Steve was more than capable handling the rare traffic detail due to an off the road logging truck, but I think Charlie felt like if he wasn't there all the time, the people would slowly start to forget about him and they wouldn't need him anymore. I had been quick to offer to help out so Sue could have a few uninterrupted days with my dad.
When I had been notified of my new job as a detective in Sioux Falls, Sheriff Mills gave me a month's worth of leave before starting. I took advantage of the time and spent the first two weeks getting settled in my new place and then decided to go see Charlie. She had told me to spend some time with my family since chances of visiting them would be far and few between. Apparently Sioux Falls, South Dakota had a plethora of unsolved cases that made her work load unbearable.
My timing had been perfect. Charlie could be rest assured that the good folks of Forks would be in good hands; a Swan was still on duty. Shaking my head at the mess, I pulled out yet another stack of random paperwork. He may have spent most of his life keeping them safe, but his filing cabinet was a joke. I shuffled the papers into a neat pile and rolled across the worn linoleum floor in Charlie's rickety chair, the wheels screeching in protest. I opened the middle drawer of the three-drawer metal cabinet and shook my head, rolling my eyes. There was one hanging folder filled with random pieces of scrap paper and notes in no particular order. How could anyone make sense of this garbage? Heaven help the legal system if any of Forks' criminals ever had to go to trial. I grabbed a stack of manila folders and tried to categorize the mess. After filling the first two drawers, I had a few more things left to file so I opened the bottom one. I was on my knees putting the last folder away when I caught a glimpse of something in the very bottom of the cabinet, something that had fallen out of the drawer. I wormed my arm into the drawer, the metal brushing against my shoulder as I reached for it. My fingertips barely grazed it. Struggling to slide it out, the scraping sound of paper against a grimy floor caused me to grind my teeth. I finally pulled it out and gasped when I held the large white envelope in my hands.
Big black letters in Charlie's handwriting...CULLEN.
The envelope laid on my lap, the heaviness of it chaining me to the chair. My legs burned as it rested there, sending a surge through my body, demanding I rip it open. After I had finally come out of my comatose state, I made it a point to lock Edward up and in the recesses of my mind. Now, with this envelope glaring at me, the lid of Pandora's box was threatening to bust open. Just as my fingers twitched to tear the top off, my radio came to life with a crackle. I threw it down on my desk and reached for my handheld.
"Bella, get the holding cell ready. I'm bringing in two men I caught digging up a grave at the cemetery." Deputy Steve's voice was staticy but audible.
"What?" I turned the volume up to make sure I was hearing him correctly. "Did you say digging up a grave?" Instinctively, I felt for my holster. Who knew what kind of wackos we were dealing with?
"I know, I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it with my own eyes." He chuckled nervously. "And they weren't grave robbing either. They were burning the..."
A loud slam, like the cage in the back of the car rattling, echoed through the radio followed by Steve yelling, "Knock it off back there!"
"Steve?"
"I'm fine." He cleared his throat. "Someone obviously has a problem with authority figures."
"You're not fine. No one is," a gruff voice shouted. "If you don't let us do our job, this whole town is gonna pay."
"Dean..." a sharp voice warned.
Steve was a good cop and he could hold his own, but something about the urgency in the perp's voice made me uneasy. "Be careful, Steve."
I walked out of Charlie's office and made my way to the cell. Unhooking the ring of keys from my belt, I opened the door and took a seat on one of the cots. I looked around at the bars and prayed we weren't dealing with any homicidal necrophiliacs. The only action this cell had seen was Wayland sleeping off a hangover, and that was just about all it could hold. It wasn't meant for truly depraved criminals. I'd have to stand vigil and make sure they didn't try and pick the lock.
Steve ushered them into the police station and their appearance took me by surprise. I wasn't really sure what I was expecting. Monsters maybe? But even I knew monsters had beautiful outsides and it wasn't until you got inside and saw their souls, or lack of one, that you knew how ugly they really were. These guys just looked too normal, rugged even. With their Carhart jackets and logging boots they looked like someone Charlie would go fishing with. The taller one had a baby face with dark brown shaggy hair that fell just above his eyes. He kept his head low as he walked toward me. The other one was a little bit shorter but had broader shoulders. His face was hardened with a couple days' worth of scruff. He narrowed his eyes at me as Steve led them to the cell.
I placed my hands on my thighs and pushed myself off of the cot. Squaring off my shoulders, I stood tall and tried to control the situation. I glared back at the man and stood in front of the open cell door.
With one hand hovering over my gun, I smiled sweetly. "Welcome to your new home, boys."
As Steve unlocked their cuffs and shoved them into the cell, the one with the clear attitude problem nudged the shoulder of his friend. He nodded toward Steve and me and smiled. "Between Barney Fife and Stacey Sheridan over there, it's a cakewalk, Sammy."
I slammed the door shut and locked it. "I wouldn't be so sure of yourself, stud. You're not getting out of here until I find out what you two were up to out there. Then we'll decide if we need involve the Staties."
He stalked toward me, grabbed the bars of the cell, and sneered. "You have no idea what you're messing with, sweetheart."
I raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Is that a threat?"
The taller one, Sammy, I assumed, walked over and pulled him away from the bars. "Dean, stop it." He smiled apologetically at me. "This is all one big misunderstanding. Maybe if we could talk to the Chief...we could get this all sorted out."
"No can do..." I paused and looked over to the other man who still had a cocky smirk plastered on his face. "Chief Swan is out of town until Monday so you either talk to me or rot in here until then."
"We get a phone call, right?" Mr. Cocky suggestively pursed his lips and walked back over to me.
I flared my nostrils and let out a huff. By the time they got in touch with a lawyer, Charlie would probably be back anyway. "Fine."
"Great." He forced a smile. "We'll just call Charlie ourselves and he'll tell you to let us go."
My eyes darted back and forth between the two men standing in front of me. "How do you know Charlie?"
His smiled widened. "Oh, Charlie and our dad go way back. You could say he owes us a favor. Call your boss. You'll see."
Narrowing my eyes, I fished into my pocket and pulled out my phone. "He's not my boss..." I kept my eyes on the men in the cell as I waited for the call to connect. "He's my..."
Charlie finally picked up after the fourth ring. "Hey! Sorry to bother you. Yeah, yeah...I'm fine. Steve just apprehended these two guys digging up...yeah...how did you...what? No! I can't just let them go we don't know why...yes, sir." I frowned and hung up the phone.
I took out the key and placed it in the lock. "I don't know what you've got over my dad, but this is far from over." Slowly I opened the door and Dean took a confident stride over to me.
"So you're the infamous Bella." His eyes trailed over my body, the action causing my chest to flush. "Gotta tell you, you look a hell of a lot better than that girl with the big buck teeth, thick rimmed glasses, and messy pigtails."
He continued to walk past me as I was left speechless. He knew my name and what I looked like as a kid. Even if Charlie said to let them go with no questions asked, there was no way I could let this go.
Sammy walked out of the cell and kept his head down. Stopping in front of me he lifted his eyes to mine. "Sorry about all the trouble, Bella."
I nodded dumbly and waited for them to leave. Steve came over looking concerned. "Why'd you let them go?"
"They know Charlie...he said..." I looked toward the door and then over to the hook that held the keys to Charlie's cruiser. "Steve, can you hold the fort down?"
"Sure but...
"I gotta go." I threw on Charlie's leather jacket, grabbed the keys, and rushed out the door.
They could have been long gone but I had a feeling they had some unfinished business to tend to. I needed to know more about these mysterious strangers. It was only fair considering how much they appeared to know about me. I parked a block away from the cemetery and went in on foot, staying close to the treeline and remaining unseen.
Sammy started dousing the grave with gasoline while Dean flicked open a zippo.
"You think she knows?" Sammy asked as Dean tossed the lighter into the grave.
Flames like I had never seen, florescent greens and bright blues, danced and licked their way toward the sky as they consumed the bones in the grave.
"Nah...it's probably better that way. Charlie always told Dad he didn't want this life for her. She's getting a chance at something we never had."
"But wouldn't you want to know? I mean I could never imagine not knowing."
Dean turned toward him, resentful eyes gleaming with the same fire from behind. "And look at how well that turned out for you. You tried to do the normal gig and it didn't work because you knew too much. Let her have this..."
Sammy shoved his hands in his pockets, slumped his shoulders forward, and followed his brother into the darkness. Two door slams and an engine roaring to life and they were gone, the haunting, telling bells to AC/DC's "Hells Bells" lingered in the brisk night air.
When I finally made it back to the station, Steve had already locked up for the night. The envelope with "CULLEN" written on the front sat atop the desk, taunting and teasing me. After tonight's events, suddenly I couldn't be bothered. I cared more about finding out who Sammy and Dean were than what dirt Charlie managed to dig up on the Cullens. I sat down in the chair and bowed my head, resting it against the worn wood of the desk. Charlie must have something to drink here, just a few sips of scotch to take off the edge. Reaching for the top, right drawer, I attempted to open it. It was one of those old desks so I tried a little harder but it wouldn't budge. Maybe the middle draw had to be open for the other draws to open so I tried that. Still no luck. Come on, Charlie. Who you hiding the scotch from? I thought to myself.
Paperclip in hand, I leaned over and started to tinker with the lock. It finally opened and I smiled when I saw the bottle of Johnny Walker Blue and a small glass next to it. At least it was the good stuff. I took out the bottle and poured a few fingers worth of the amber liquid. Placing the bottle down on the envelope I pretended wasn't there, I sat back in the chair and enjoyed my drink.
As I savored the smooth, smokey, vanilla liquid, I glanced over to the open drawer and noticed a black leather journal. Giggling, thinking about Charlie being a ladies man and owning a "little black book", I let my curiosity get the better of me. I opened the journal up and a small Polaroid fell onto my little boys, one with green eyes and freckles and one with dark hair and shy eyes, flanked a middle aged man with a rough face and a full head of dark hair. There was something oddly familiar. I turned the photo over and covered my mouth as I read the writing on the back.
The Winchesters: John, Dean, and little Sammy
A/N – And for the treat...or trick depending on how you look at it...this is actually a prequel to a new story I'll be writing once I'm finished with She's Everything. I'd love to know what everyone thinks!
Happy Halloween.