A/N: I'm sorry that this update took a little longer, I had a paper due this Monday, which I had to give my undivided attention over the past week. Still, here it is. Thank you again, so much, for all your lovely comments. You guys rock, and I foresee fluff and happiness in your future.
With every squeeze of the trigger a spent casing sprung out, barely missing the blonde's exposed skin. Occasionally, one of them bounced off of her black leather shoes then joined the other discarded metallic casings, regrouping themselves around her feet.
The echo of the gunshots would have been deafening in such a closed in environment, if it wasn't for the bright, red ear muffs she wore. The strident shots were barely noticeable like low whispers unable to pierce through windy nights.
Green eyes remained locked on the mark ahead, her face remaining expressionless. The bullets flew past the 300 meter line, effortlessly ripping through the paper targets. Holes were scattered around the heart, brain and other vital organs which were sure to rank up one-shot-one-kill bonus points on her score sheet.
Marksmanship test: mandatory for every officer after recovering from an injury which could have potentially affected their skill in this particular area. Even if Tamsin thought it was a both a waste of their time and hers, she treated it with the utmost importance.
With every muscle flex in her arm, she could feel the skin around the perfectly formed scar tissue stretch. The pain had completely disappeared over the past few weeks, yet she could still remember clear as day, the unbearable ache burning away at her flesh. It wasn't her first, or her last, though it did make it as the most lethal gunshot she has ever suffered.
"And...time!" The officer with the bulging beer belly exclaimed, his stare fixated on the stopwatch in his left hand.
Slender fingers, familiar with the process, uncocked the hammer of the handgun. She let the magazine slide out in her hand before she laid both items them side by side on the table in front of her. A confident and cocky smirk lifted the corner of her lips as the paper target was reeled forward.
Tamsin removed the ear muffs, letting them rest around her neck, and then placed the yellow tinted protective glasses on top of her head. Folding her arms over her chest, she turned on her heals to face the officer, watching with grin as he tallied the results down on the clipboard.
"50 meter targets: three shots allowed, three landed, two of them in the cranium. 100 meter target: five shots allowed, five landed; three in the torso: heart, lungs and sternum. Two in the cranium. 150 meter target-"
Even though she would love to have her ego thoroughly stroked by listening to her accuracy exploits, Tamsin had a case to work and no time to spare standing around listening to a fat version of pop-eye throwing a bunch of numbers around.
Scrunching up her face, she arched one eyebrow. "Do we really need a play-by-play?" Was the impatient and rhetorical question that cut off the officer's analysis. Removing the safety equipment from her head, she set them down beside the handgun.
"It's part of the process. You know how it is." The man shrugged, smiling at the blonde apologetically.
Rolling her eyes, she took a step towards him. The staggering height difference and the fire in her eyes could make any man wet himself. "With all due respect, Officer rotund, I do know how it is and I do know that I passed. So, if we could just hurry this up…" She motioned with her hand, fake smile firmly in place.
Taking the insult surprisingly well, he flipped over a few sheets of paper. "You never went through sensitivity training, did you?" The officer grumbled, scribbling down on Tamsin's 'Return to Active Duty' recommendation. Ripping it off, he held the piece of paper up.
"Sens-what? What's that mean again?" Snatching the paper from his hand she headed for the armory, situated in the basement.
The whole storage area fenced in behind window grating, a long counter stretched behind. A space, large enough to transfer items as large as assault rifles was cut through it. Behind the counter was usually assigned to Officers on 'light duty'. This is kind of job that made Tamsin rejoice about the fact that she was a Detective and would never have to occupy that lonely and dark place.
"Hey there skipper," Tamsin announced gleefully, as she strutted her way to the counter. "I'll take a Smith and Wesson with a side of .45 cal." Tilting her head sideways, a grin on her face, she pushed the pink paper towards the officer with her index finger.
The young man looked slightly taken aback by the blonde's beautiful features. "Steppin' it up I see, Detective." He remarked, flashing her a charming smile.
No chance in hell kid, she thought with a sigh. "Gotta match what the competition's dishing out. Besides, a girl can never be too careful these days."
"Comin' right up." Nodding, and almost stumbling off of his chair, he disappeared into the aisles. The officer emerged from them a few minutes later, weapon in hand. After taking down the number tag of Tamsin's new handgun, he slid it across the counter towards her.
"There you go." A few moments spent with his eyes fixated on the tall woman. He quickly dodged her gaze as their eyes locked. "I was wondering if I could, maybe, if you aren't too busy-"
"Absolutely not, no." Was added quickly, interrupting the stumbling officer's proposal. As she grabbed her new handgun, Tamsin swear she heard his masculinity explode out of his ears as she walked away, adding an unnecessary sway to her hips.
She headed for her desk as she reached the first floor of the precinct. She clipped the handgun against her hip before retrieving her blue leather jacket from the back of her chair, slipping it on her shoulders. In one swift motion, she flipped her hair out from under the collar, letting the blonde locks pool around her shoulders.
Leaning over her desk, she searched through her case files, looking for the specific one Lauren had requested this morning. "Where the hell…" Cursing under her breath, she eyed the cluster fuck of papers on Dyson's desk.
The Wolf raised his head, smiling at his partner. "Looking for something, Tamsin?"
"The fucking…you know, that Lauren wanted." She answered impatiently waving her arms around as if it would help her explain. She hated the way Dyson always seemed to know when she was going to see Lauren. Was she that obvious?
Lifting up a retarded amount of papers, he picked off a red file. Dyson leaned forward as he extended his arm towards the blonde, amused at how her eyes suddenly lit up at the sight of the object which she sought.
"Thank Odin," Breathing a sigh of relief, she lurched forward and snatched the file out of his hand, quickly flipping through it to make sure nothing had magically disappeared.
"Or me." The Wolf replied, oddly cheeky and cheery for Tamsin's taste. Catching sight of the Doctor entering the precinct, he nodded his head, as to greet her. "Lauren."
Scrunching up her face, oblivious to the woman standing behind her, Tamsin raised an inquisitive eyebrow at her partner. "Thank Lauren?"
Following Dyson's finger, as he pointed to the woman in question, she twirled around to face her. "What's up, Doc?" Tamsin hoped her brief 'dear caught in the headlights' expression would be lost in the joke.
Come to think of it, she noticed her heart beat would immediately increase whenever Lauren was around. Maybe I should see a Doctor. How convenient, here's one. Even if Tamsin was treating the issue in her usual sarcastic 'I don't even care' attitude, she recognized the fact that she was deeply and completely infatuated by the blonde woman.
"Still not partial to carrots, or rabbits, for that matter." The smile on her face remained as her eyes examined just how well the neon blue color of the Detective's leather jacket accentuated the pallid gold hair. The color reflected in her eyes, which could fool anyone in thinking this was their natural shade.
"Cute." Brow slightly creased, she wondered if Lauren ever stared at Bo that way. Tamsin wanted to throw a snark-y comment at her; its sole purpose would have been to make the Doctor uncomfortable. Despite how she loved watching a nervous Lauren stumble on her words, she rightfully chose to remain professional.
"You're here for the…" Coughing, the blonde looked around to make sure no one was paying much attention to their conversation. Most of them were interested in staring at Lauren's jean-clad backside. She suddenly had the urge to punch each one of their stupid faces, but the lack of loud music and peanut shells indicated this probably wasn't the best place to start a fight.
"That case?" She lowered her voice, knowing the emphasis wouldn't be lost on the Doctor.
"Yes!" Lauren exclaimed, as if he has forgotten why she was here in the first place. "In fact, I had a few questions for you both, if you aren't too overwhelmed with important…stuff." Stuff? you have a medical degree and you used the word 'stuff'? She pretended to believe that her choice of words, or lack thereof, wasn't directly affected by how close Tamsin was standing beside her.
"I'm sure it would be Detective Tamsin's pleasure to answer all of your questions." Grinning, the Wolfs' stare moved from one woman to another as he bounced his eyebrows.
Jaw clenching, she motioned with her arm for Lauren to lead the way with a tight smile. "Shall we?"
Tamsin's face instantly fell as Lauren walked passed her. Stopping beside Dyson, she rested her hand on his shoulder. "Who the fuck stuffed a rainbow up your ass? If someone's supplying you shrooms…I'd like to get it on it."
Chuckling, Dyson grabbed his partner's hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth on her knuckles. He ignored the weird look she gave him, his voice taking on a low and dramatic tone: "Can't an old Wolf be happy?" With an ever-so charming smile, he brought her hand up, laying a gentle kiss on it.
Her face now contorted in a graceful mix of horror and disgust, Tamsin ripped her hand away from his. Leaning close, between gritted teeth, she replied: "No!" She waved her index finger inches from his nose, as if she was scolding her puppy for destroying her new pair of shoes.
"We're the 'broosome twosome', remember? We aren't supposed to be grinning like idiots for no apparent reason." That's it, Tamsin was now one hundred percent sure that he had accidentally sniffed cocaine when he helped the drug unit find a million dollar stash the other day.
Crossing hid arms over his chest, he jerked his head towards the interrogation room. "She's waiting."
Sighing, she glanced at the blonde, whom was already sitting down. "This isn't over. You're going to spill, Wolf." Scowling, she glared at her partner as she marched past him.
"Is this one of those cases where you're going to tell me that you think Bo's responsible?" Was the first question Lauren asked as she turned her head to stare at Tamsin entering the room.
"No?" Nonchalantly throwing the files on the wooden table next to Lauren, Tamsin grabbed one of the closest chairs. Dragging it next to the Doctor, she spun it around and straddled it so she could rest both of her forearms over the back of it.
"Evidence tells me she put that Dark Fae in a comma," Innocently, she rested her chin on top of her crossed forearms. "But I'm not going to invent reasons for me to hate her." Not that I need to.
Nodding her head, her fingers flipped the file open. "Are we completely sure about Fae involvement with this murder victim?"
"Well, we'll know more after you cut him open, but there's this," Reaching her arm forward, she flipped through a few papers, tapping her finger over the picture she was looking for.
"He was pinned to an industrial ceiling, but nothing was physically holding him there. When they took him down, we saw these." Flipping the page again, she pointed at yet another picture.
"They look like ritual markings or tattoos of some sort. Do you know what they are?" Chocolate brown eyes glued to the picture, her brow creased as she brought the file closer to her face.
"I looked through the police database," Holding on to the wooden chair, Tamsin leaned back, tilting her head sideways: "Zilch. My guess is: it's Fae" Sighing, she moved forward again, hands aimlessly dangling off the back of the chair.
"I haven't seen them before, but I can do some digging around." Closing the folder, Lauren stood up.
"I was hoping you'd say that." Flashing the Doctor a brilliant smile, she mirrored Lauren's actions.
As she stood in front of the Detective, she held the file against her chest with both of her hands, a sudden wave or nervousness crashed into her stomach, tightening her chest. "I'm not a warrior."
"O-kay?" Raising an eyebrow, she shifting her weight onto her left leg.
"What you told me you were," Taking a deep breath, her brown orbs were momentarily pointed at the ceiling before she settled her gaze onto the taller blonde. "It's your duty to take warriors to Valhalla when they're chosen."
Placing her hands on her hips, Tamsin was puzzled as to where the Doctor was taking this conversation. "I would have never figured that out on my own."
"That's why you…that us-" Pausing, Lauren chuckled nervously as she looked down at her brown, leather boots. She closed her eyes for a moment, mustering the courage to leave herself vulnerable. As she opened her eyes, she could discern the confusion that was displayed on Tamsin's face, but there was also something she hadn't noticed before: care. Which led the Doctor to believe her hypothesis about the matter was correct. Or at least, a part of it was.
"I mean, there's no chance of me being chosen, Tamsin, I never even touched the hilt of a sword." Swallowing hard, the Doctor hadn't meant for it to sound like a plea.
"For the benefit of keeping this conversation mature, I'll suppress my need to make a dirty joke." Her eyes followed her own foots steps as she shortened the distance between Lauren and herself.
She lifted her head, wherein no cocky smirk or sarcastic smile was on display. It was simply, and purely, Tamsin. "Being a warrior isn't all about being able to wield sharp steel. You're weak, frail, tiny and sometimes I worry about your choice of footwear, but-"
Needing to release the stress that had built up, Lauren cut off the woman with her laughter. "Wow, that's very, um…uplifting."
Rolling her eyes, though still smiling, she placed both of her hands on the smaller blonde's shoulders. "My point is: you're only human, yet you jumped into a fight against an ageless demon knowing how powerful he was. You got balls, Doc."
Tamsin's impetuous choice of words were clearly just a cover for the genuine tone her voice rarely took, Lauren noted. She was beginning to see the real woman behind the mask. Ironically, and unconsciously, she covered up her own bubbling emotions with a joke: "Oh? I thought it was my 'lack of' which you appreciated the most." A smirk lifted the corner of her lips, mirth dancing in her eyes.
Letting her arms fall at her sides, Tamsin shook her head and chuckled slightly. "Did every one scarf down happy pills today? Did I not get the memo?"
Her tongue darted out, writing her lips before hiding it back in the concave darkness of her mouth. "Well, thank you for everything, Detective. I'll contact you as soon as I get more information." Her steps were slow and deliberate as she walked towards the door.
"So, are we…cool?" The question was the exact opposite of what the Valkyrie usually exudes. She was never tentative in nature, always keeping her chin up high and flaunting her confidence like it was an Olympic gold medal. Yet, there was something about the dorky Doctor that led her to believe she didn't need to keep the façade up.
"We're cool." Lauren replied with a definitive nod. Truth is, they were far from square. The edges were jagged, and some of the lines didn't connect completely. There was a lot to be discovered, learned and processed. In the meantime, it would do.
As she turned to leave, the smile on her face would remain permanent for the remainder of the day. She was certain that there was more to Tamsin's seemingly destructive behavior. When you strip away the cockiness and confidence, her face revealed something entirely different; sadness, regret, and perhaps even fear. The Doctor was determined to crack her wall, and though she figured the path leading to victory would be winding, she wasn't one to give up.
There was something about the night sky that was enchanting, the Valkyrie thought, as she nestled an almost empty bottle of Jack Daniels. Fingers wrapped around the symmetrical edges of the bottle as it rested upright against her stomach. Her head rested against her arm, which had been flung behind her and bent at a 90 degree angle. Her torso was supported by her truck's windshield, her long legs extended along its perpendicular bonnet.
Tamsin was enjoying a strong alcoholic beverage, having strategically parked herself near the Light Fae building- in a completely not creepy-stalker sort of way, of course. This behavior could be analyzed as an inner masochist desire to taunt herself with what she couldn't have. In reality, Tamsin simply needed to be closer to where her heart was.
The dark infinity of the night's sky was light up, stars flicking like dying light bulbs in a cheap motel. The beauty of it, however, was far from this dingy imagery. It made her wonder and hope that she hasn't completely lost her mind. Perhaps it was the alcohol swirling in her system, giving her sudden epiphany's about life in general - let's be honest we've all be there before – that led her to believe that maybe all was not lost.
Ethically speaking, she had no right to mope about her selfish choices. Tamsin practically threw Lauren back into the Succubus' arms, only to realize she wished she had clutched to her a little longer. Where her actions reparable? Sure, everything that is meant to be broken can be fixed.
She had no right, however, to stack her deep dark fears on top of Lauren's unsuspecting shoulders. She had no right to ask for repentance and beg for a second chance; or so she thought. She was a warrior, the greatest warrior. For God's sake she was a Valkyrie. Why was she sitting on the bleachers, watching events unfold when she could easily march in and fight for what rightfully hers?
Tamsin, upon drunkenly pondering this question, could not formulate an answer. Following the decision, with a lack of rationality, the empty bottle was discarded. Maybe it broke on the pavement, or maybe it fell into a trash can. Was that the sound of a cat screeching? She wasn't quite sure. What the Detective was sure of, however, was her plan of action.
"No time like the present." Sliding off of the hood, ungracefully so, her not so stable legs hit the solid ground. Only after she had almost reached Lauren's door did she realize: What the fuck am I suppose to say if the Succubitch is there? Dear Suck-everyone's-face, excuse be but I must waltz in and swoop your precious Doctor away.
Chuckling, she rested her cheek against the door, holding the handle as she knocked a few times. A softly spoken 'Come in,' was her golden ticket, so she turned the knob and let herself in. Tamsin was surprised to see the Doctor was still awake, clad in her loose pyjamas and cradling a glass of wine in her hands. And you were expecting her to be asleep for what good reason?
"Tamsin," The woman's name was spoken out of slight shock as Lauren turned her head, intently gazing at the familiar figure. Setting her glass down, hand pressed into the soft surface of her couch, she pushed herself up. "Is there an emergency?"
Cringing, she surveyed Lauren's face. "To be honest, I wish I planned this more thoroughly." Carefully, she placed one foot in front of the other, hoping her lack of balance would go unnoticed.
Brow creased, she walked around the couch. "What's going on?" Lauren examined Tamsin's movements, and although she didn't have a scratch on her, she looked as though she was suffering from a less than serious concussion.
"Is the Succubus here?" Her slurred speech was becoming more and more evident as she unnecessarily stretched the s's.
"Are you drunk?" Her voice, unusually high, asked the most rhetorical of questions. She couldn't imagine the amount of alcohol needed to be consumed by a Fae to –well, actually she did know. From 2.5 to 3 times the amount a human needs in their blood to be considered intoxicated. And here she was, the good Doctor, sitting alone at home and feeding her buzz sip after sip of a wine that really wasn't that strong.
Her big, brown, worried eyes followed the staggering woman. Big and brown were characteristics determinant of her genus, but worry, now that was an emotional response to what she observed in her counterpart's glossy, emerald eyes; unwavering lust.
"Is she?" Now standing at arm's length from the smaller blonde, Tamsin reached forward, fingers playing with the soft and bouncy ends of Lauren's darker hair.
"Bo's home." Lauren could have lied, could have instead told Tamsin that her girlfriend was in fact here, perhaps lounging upstairs in her bed. She had anticipated the Detective's next move, and as morally wrong as it was, a part of her welcomed the warm lips that wrapped themselves around hers.
A pair of strong arms circled her waist, pulling her flush against the taught body in front of her. She should have pulled away when Tamsin's tongue eagerly dance along her bottom lip. She should have broke apart instead of parting her lips and granting the blonde access to the inside of her mouth. She should have pushed her away instead of letting a loud moan escape as Tamsin deepened the kiss, muffling and drinking the sound away.
During this instance, however, Lauren didn't possess enough self control to deny Tamsin any of those things. The passion and intensity finally ignited the flame that had all but been barely flickering these past months. Those lips, oh did she miss those lips.
Both of her hands gripped either side of the taller woman's leather jacket, digging her finger nails in the material. Tugging hard on the jacket, their bodies now pressed tighter against one another. Neither of them had pulled back to replenish their oxygen supply, both of their chest burned with the same intensity as their desire; scorching and sizzling at the core of their being.
As soon as Tamsin's fingers found the hem of Lauren's panty line, a firm hand was pressed against her shoulder, pushing her back; ripping both women apart. Chest heaving, questions in her eyes, she quickly glanced at the hand on her chest.
"Stop. I can't do this." Equally breathless, the apologetic tone in her voice could be mistaken for regretting having lost control, having kissed lips that weren't Bo's, yet the harsh truth lay deeper. What she truly regretted was that she had to put an end to it.
"Yeah right." Closing her eyes, leaning down again, a force unknown prevented her lips from coming n contact with Laurens'. The force unknown, which much to Tamsin's dismay, were the Doctor's hands, roughly shoving her shoulders back.
"I mean it. I'm not doing this to Bo."
"Oh fuck her! And fuck me."
"Tamsin…" The Valkyrie's name was used as a warning, a warning which, from Tamsin's next words, was lost on her.
"Right, I'm sorry." The Detective took a step back, smirk on her lips as she motioned her arms towards the door. "Go little flower, run to your Succubus bitch." She spat out harshly.
Even though it was her own palm which connected against Tamsin' cheek, the loud smack emitted from the action startled the Doctor. Though it didn't last long, as rage boiled inside of her causing a usually passive Lauren to shout: "How dare you come into my home and act like I'm the one who screwed this up!? You're the one who's running scared, and now you're pissed off because you can't have me anymore!"
The truth in the words stung far more than the slap itself; pinching at her heart and twisting it painfully. Her gaze was cast down, unable to face the Doctor. Tears glistened in her eyes, threatening to fall over at any moment. Swallowing hard, she slowly lifted her heard. "I'm sor-"
"Don't you dare. Don't you dare apologize for something you don't know!"
"Lauren, please."
"Shut up! Just, shut up!" In a fit of rage, she launched herself at the woman, the side of her fists repeatedly connecting with Tamsin's shoulders and upper chest.
The Valkyrie, however, didn't budge. Lauren lacked the strength to cause any real harm, and after a while, the fight in her dissipated, her hands simply clutched and clawed at the woman's clothes.
Tamsin gently gripped the Doctor's wrists, pushing them down. "Stop this." Was spoken softly, almost too soft. To see Lauren in such a state broke her heart, but to know it was all her fault, it killed her; slowly and painfully, it ripped her apart.
Ripping her hands away from Tamsin's loose hold, Lauren turned around, covering her eyes with her hand. "Just…go, please." Was choked out painfully, her throat burning as she pushed down the sobs, which will be set free, ultimately.
"Okay." Her voice was barely above a whisper, as she obeyed this simple command. Tamsin left the apartment, more emotionally drained and distraught than she has ever been. She didn't think Lauren's pain would last this long, didn't think there was anything serious to their 'fling'. They both knew it was more than that, yet the predicament Tamsin had left them in was now hanging by a single thread. I can fix this, I will fix this.