TWO NIGHTS, THREE DAYS
A/N: It's a beautiful day for an update! I wanted to wait a little longer so the chapter was a little bigger, but in the end I decided that I love this piece just as it is and am excited to finally start writing Lucy into the timeline!
Disclaimer: No profit was made from the writing of this fictional homage to the Mighty Kacy, they belong to their brilliant creators at CBS and I promise to put them back better than I found them.
A Day In The Life
NCIS Junior Field Agent Lucy Tara had just finished a grueling shift that had actually started the day before. It was a little after two on a Thursday and she should have gone straight home to sleep, but she was still flying high on adrenaline and knew that attempting to rest would be counterproductive. So instead of going home she stopped into her favorite neighborhood bar, where she often went to decompress and have a few drinks and pretend that she was anything but a federal agent. There was a small group of regulars who had gradually become good friends, and she loved that they didn't know where she was from or what she did, even if their favorite past time was trying and failing to figure it out.
"I'm getting killed on my 401k Luce, any advice?" asked Trig, one of the islanders who often asked her opinion and seemed convinced that she worked for some high level financial group.
"Everyone's getting killed right now Trig. The market is unpredictable like the ocean, but if you wait it out eventually the next wave will come."
"See I told you!" Trig said to Miguel, the bartender, with a satisfied smile, "She works in finance! C'mon Lucy, admit I figured it out!"
"Nah, her people skills are too solid," Miguel replied, "my money, as always, is on sales. I'd say real estate or auto, but since we never see her in heels I'm sticking with retail."
"I still think she's a professional bull rider," insisted Coral, a sun bronzed surf queen who explained, "I'd say surfer, but I've never seen her on the beach. Bull riding explains the frequent injuries, the tight little body and the southern drawl."
"No, no and no, but thank you for playing the What Does Lucy Actually Do? game," she said with a goofy smile, "now can I please have a beer?"
Lucy was beyond grateful that her friends never pushed the issue about her career, though the guessing had started one day in November when she had arrived with bruises and abrasions on her face. Miguel had seen a story on the news about a stampede at the mall, so he was convinced that she had been caught in it at work that day. Instead of telling him that her face was courtesy of a European spy and that you should see what she did to him, she merely went with it and let them believe whatever they wanted.
"Have as many as you want," Miguel said as he popped the top off the bottle and slid it to her, "you know we love it when that drawl comes out."
Scowling, Lucy accepted the drink and argued, "I don't have an accent," though to be honest she knew that no matter how hard she had worked to nail the California English affectation, she would be useless as a CIA asset because she could not control it when alcohol was involved.
"It's your story Tex, tell it any ole way you want," Trig smirked, then yelled "Owww!" when his remark earned him a wicked arm punch.
"Maybe she's a prize fighter," Miguel joked as Trig rubbed his arm.
"Nah, we'd have seen her famous face all over the sports report with a punch like that," Trig argued, "maybe a yoga instructor? Ooohh, Sensei?"
"Bull rider," Coral deadpanned and took a drink, "she's got cowgirl written all over her."
"Haha," the tiny brunette replied as she walked over to the jukebox. "You know what I think we need?"
"No we don't. Lucy, don't even-"
"Sorry kids, y'all just poked the inner cowboy, baby."
Antonio's head popped up from the table he was clearing, a giant smile on his face as he asked, "Did somebody say cowboy?"
The trio groaned as the opening strains of the most overplayed song on the jukebox started to play, and Lucy and Antonio jumped into the improvised line dance they busted out every time the damn song came on.
"C'mon, you're killing us Tex," came a voice from behind the bar, "without the boots and the cowboy hat that's just wrong."
"I can do the boots and the hat," she smirked, then on beat but with a flat and serious tone added, "Cause I'm a cowboy, baby..."
A chorus of groans echoed as she linked arms with Antonio and they spun and pounded their imaginary spurs, tipped their imaginary hats and generally terrorized the haters until the final "Cowwwboyyyyyy!"
Lucy fist bumped Antonio and spun back towards the jukebox, eliciting a cacophony of disgruntled proclamations as she pulled out a handful of quarters and started to insert them into the machine.
"Okay, alright, I know when I'm outnumbered," she offered with her hands in the air, "so tell me what y'all would rather hear."
They shouted a few suggestions as she fed some more quarters into the ancient machine, then smirked as she ignored them and selected what she wanted to hear.
"Lucy I swear if we're about to hear Adele's greatest hits again, I'm gonna -"
"Gonna listen to Adele," Lucy interjected with a brilliant smile, "and you're gonna li-"
"Gonna what Luce?" Coral asked as the sassy brunette abruptly stopped talking. The front door had opened during the banter and Lucy had apparently lost the ability to speak the moment the brief burst of sunlight illuminated the entrance, so they all watched and waited for her to pick her jaw up off the floor and explain what was going on.
"Luce?" Trig asked, waiting for the punchline and worrying that they had somehow offended their friend.
"Oh," he said, elbowing Coral as the stunning blonde stepped forward past the jukebox that had been shielding her from their corner of the bar.
Tall, tan, fit and gorgeous, she was a vision in striking blue, her golden hair a perfect contrast to the vibrant deep shade. "Wow," he observed as Lucy returned to her stool and Miguel excused himself to go and take the beautiful stranger's order. "She's ah, yeah. She's um," taking a deep breath and exhaling audibly, Lucy's drawl was out in full force as she nervously scratched her neck and added, "Y'all see her right? Because I um, ah," another gulp and exhale, "wow."
Who's That Girl?
The group had never seen Lucy at a loss for words and had certainly never seen her so rattled that the drawl manifested when she was sober.
"Go talk to her," Trig suggested.
"Oh God no, I couldn't!"
"Why not?" he asked.
"Because I can't!" She wailed, "I mean, look at her!"
"I see her," he smiled, "and I see that she's alone."
"Right now she is," Lucy grumbled, "she's probably meeting someone."
"Nah, she's not looking at the door," Antonio countered, "trust me, she's not waiting for anyone."
"Maybe she's waiting for the woman of her dreams to go over there and sweep her off her feet?" Coral smirked.
"Or the man of her dreams," Trig added, earning a scowl from the fiery brunette.
"Only one way to find out," Antonio said as he nodded in the beautiful blonde's direction.
"I can't even form a complete sentence when I look at her," Lucy groaned as she dramatically threw herself on the bar and buried her face in her arms, "what if I walk over there and make a fool of myself?"
"What if you don't?" Coral challenged. "Take a look around cowgirl, every eye in the place is on her." After a dramatic pause she added, "She's so hot, I'm ready to go over there and say hello."
"You're married!" Lucy gasped.
"And straight," the older woman smirked, "But that's my point. If you don't go over there and say hello, I guarantee someone else will."
"Hell, I will!" Trig said as he stood up, then immediately found himself yanked right back down by a surprisingly strong and unnervingly capable Lucy.
"She's more than hot," Lucy stated as though she hadn't just manhandled her friend who was twice her size with ease, "she's, she's..." trailing off as her hands waved about and she searched for a word that apparently didn't exist, she finally turned her back on the object of her distraction and took a deep breath to ground herself.
"Holy shit Lucy, you're white as a sheet!" Trig tactlessly announced, his lack of couth a direct result of his bruised ego. "You know you can just walk away, right?"
"I can't," she replied as she steeled herself and squinted her eyes, screwing her face up in determination and adding, "I'm going over there."
"For what it's worth, her body language reads like a person who is both alone and not very accustomed to it," Antonio, busboy by day and psychology student by night observed, "see how she looked around, then immediately focused on her phone? She wants to be invisible, she's uncomfortable and could definitely use a friend."
"Lucy's friendly," Miguel offered as he rejoined the conversation.
"I know, right?" she said as she stood up, finished her beer and asked, "What's she like?"
"Hungry," he laughed, then suggested, "Why don't you go see for yourself before Unlucky Louie over there makes his move and sends her running."
"Here goes nothing," she announced, "wish me luck."
"You got this Luce," Coral said with a thumbs up.
"Remember to use your words," Antonio advised as she rounded the bar, then turned right back around and ordered a shot of whiskey.
Miguel laughed as he poured the shot that she downed in one gulp, then offered to go with her to make the conversation easier.
"Nope, I got this," Lucy declared as she planted the empty shot glass on the bar.
Taking a step towards the gorgeous blonde, she was immediately halted by the woman biting her lip in the sexiest display of deep thought she'd ever seen, so she groaned and turned around as a brand new wall of nerves hit her.
Miguel wordlessly slid her another shot which she promptly downed.
"I got this," she reaffirmed, deciding to speak her confidence into existence, "I got this."
Miguel chuckled as she walked away, shaking his head as he watched the uncharacteristically skittish Lucy warily approach the unsuspecting blonde.
"She's so dead," Trig laughed once she was out of earshot.
"She looks like she's going throw up," Antonio chuckled.
"Crash and burn coming up," Coral deadpanned as she grabbed the shot of whiskey Miguel had poured in anticipation of Lucy turning around one last time.
As Lucy crossed the bar her work text tone chimed, and when she paused briefly to read the message Miguel reached over and took the shot from an offended Coral's hand.
"Hey!" Coral snapped.
"She needs it more than you," Miguel argued.
"Does she?" Coral argued as she pointed in the diminutive brunette's direction.
~e ho'omau 'ia~