It will eventually be a Spike/OC story (if I get that far) and since I don't know where this is going I rated it M from the start.
Constructive criticism is very welcome and I hope you will enjoy!
Warnings: For now, just my rusty English skills. Oh, and I've never been to Canada, and know nothing of real police work and such stuff. A bit of swearing, some violence, not too grim I think.
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize from Flashpoint is NOT mine.
AU: Here it is, chapter six, updated yesterday. The reviews and favorites I got last time made me so happy I could hug all of you!
Pretty please keep them coming. Enjoy!
Firefly – Chapter six
I grin at the camera, arms around Kyle's neck as the flash blinds me. Around us the guys from the station are goofing around, fighting over cake and coffee like the kids they are under the watchful eye of our boss. Kyle is slightly red, embarrassed and awkward, surrounded by balloons and sparkly plastic cups. "When did you get this cuddly? The only thing I've ever seen you hug is a bottle of tequila." He sounds almost offended and I laugh, scribbling down my address to get copies of the photos, one arm still over my mentor's shoulders. "I'm not cuddly. I might be temporary confused and high on sugar. But never cuddly." Kyle snorts as he leads us to the table hosting the before mentioned coffee and cake, glaring at the boss as we pass by. The boss only compliments Kyle's very sparkly, very purple party hat and his scowl deepens. "Couldn't you kids just have let me retire in peace?"
"Now what would be the point with that. C'mon, I've got something for you." I lead Kyle out to the kitchen, plate with strawberry cake in one hand and a slightly resistant mentor in the other. Lisa, dark-haired whirlwind, saucepan throwing enthusiast extraordinary and Kyle's wife since almost forty years, is waiting for us. Kyle eyed his wife before turning to me, suspicion and confusion waging war over his face. "What are you two maniacs up to?" Lisa laughs, a peculiarly infectious sound that's pulls at the corners of my lips. "Well, this maniac can't wait to get you out to the car so we can leave, and that maniac," She points at me, eyes sparkling with delight. "is about to hand over your retirement present, weren't you darling." I turn towards the older woman, a sly smirk plastered over my face.
"Well, I'm not gonna "hand it over" to you, sweetheart." Kyle, used to our antics simply scowls, waving his hands in front of our faces. "Yes, yes. Just tell me so I can go back to being annoyed over the idiots in my living room." I laugh again, fishing an envelope from my recently acquired bag. And I'll have you know that it is a very fancy army bag deluxe. Just so you know.
With lots of room for bricks and band aids, even a bottle of antiseptic or two. Straying…
I hand Kyle the envelope, ignoring the slight trembling of my hands and faltering of my voice. "Congratulations on your retirement Sir." The living room has grown suspiciously quiet and I'm sure the whole station is all but glued to the doorframe. Kyle eyes the envelope with obvious suspicion before slowly opening, handling it like you would an armed bomb. "It won't explode dear, just open it and stop worrying the poor girl." There's a stifled snicker from the next room and just you wait until I get my hands on the cowardly little…
"Italy?" My focus is snapped back to my mentor, pride and panic waging a quick war before I zone in on the smile gracing his features, allowing me to breath. "Yeah, Florence, Venice and Rome. Bike hiking. Your bags are packed and you're ready to go." I smile, feeling like an insecure ten-year-old waiting for some kind of approval. "Say something please." He looks like, for a second, he would like to repeat the previous question a time or two. Maybe three to be on the safe side. There's another painful moment of silence before I'm engulfed in a bone crushing hug, and I'm telling you, that a man his age should not have that kind of strength. I struggle for breath as my mind short-circuits over the fact that I'm being hugged.
People don't hug me because they want to; they try to get a fist in my face or a knife in my ribs. People just don't hug me; they prefer to stay out of my way and well out of kicking range. But Kyle's not people. Kyle's my mentor, my superior officer. He is the protecting brother I never needed and a wise surrogate father over these past three years. And he has been the only constant voice of reason in my life since I became a cop.
Shit! Am I Crying? Yeah, I think you are. Shut up!
"Thank you, little rookie." It's a barely audible whisper, meant for my ears only as I'm lowered back to the floor. Our eyes meet and I marvel over the bright, warm smile lighting up his face as he carefully nudges my shoulder. "Shall we?" We walk out through the front door as a unit, Kyle's arm still over my shoulders with Lisa behind us, beaming from ear to ear. By the time we reach their pre-packed car I've gotten hold of myself, proudly grinning as I close the driver's door. Kyle is leaning out from the open window, regarding me with a smug smile. "You called me Sir." I stare, a mock look of revulsion plastered over my face. "I did not!" He laughs, pointing a finger at me. "You did, for the first time, and all it took was me retiring. Shame on you!"
We part like that, with laughter and bantering. I stand on the sidewalk long after the red taillights have disappeared along the road, then, with a smile on my lips I turn and walk back into the house. I'm met with a plate of cake and very guilty looking colleagues. I glare. They run.
Oh, that's not suspicious at all.
I spend the next thirty minutes hunting down the phone containing the photo of Kyle holding me in a hug almost half a meter above ground. I do not, however, break the damned thing once I get hold of it. I sneaky send the photo to my own phone before deleting it, handing it back to its black, blue and soon to be yellow owner with an innocent smile. I can be a responsible adult.
"I'm proud of you."
"Oi, crazy lady! Do you have a visual?" Cody's voice is uncomfortably loud in my ear as I sneak along another grimy concrete wall. Adjusting the volume of my earpiece I carefully glance around the corner, expecting anything and nothing. The room is huge, dark and filthy. And above all, empty. "All clear elephant pants, what about you?" There's a loud huff on the other end as Cody exhales as he also enters yet another empty room. "Nothing, are you sure we're in the right building?" I bite back a laugh as I move through the room, pulse hammering in my throat. It's way too quiet. And anyone who has ever seen a horror movie, knows that too quiet is never a good thing. Never ever! Just saying. "Considering there's three generals outside expecting us to run around guns blazin' at everything bigger than a dust bunny, I'd say damn straight we're in the right b..."
I'm cut short, the wall next to me exploding in a splatter of plastic and yellow paint. I stumble backwards, back to the safety of the empty room barely catching a glimpse of the two that's once again covering behind a wooden crate in the corridor. Malinda and Tony. "Chris! Answer God damnit!" Cody's cursing in my ear and I gulp for air. Sneaky fucking bastards! "No harm, no harm. I've got two here Co." I can hear him sneer at the nickname but his retort is cut short by the third voice in our team. "I've got visual. Four hostages in the south corner. Chris can you hold them?" I grin while Cody's frown is almost audible over the line. "We have to get her out." The third voice, also known as Tyler, sounds again. "Civilians first, and we've still got an un-located subject. Cody, how far are you?" His answer is drowned out in another splatter of yellow and my pulse stutter as I cover behind the doorframe. Lives are on the line here. Maybe not the "civilian's" lives, but mine. Cody's and Tyler's. Our future. We have to make it.
And shooting Malinda in the face with blue paint would be very nice.
Through my scope I can easily spot the top of Malinda's helmet, see the movement Tony does when he stand to fire again and there it is, a perfect opening just as he raises his gun. My breath slips past my lips in a whisper as my finger ghosts over the trigger. Tony falls back in a spray of blue, cursing wildly as he ducks back behind the crate. "One down guys!"
Two to go…
"We've got the hostages out; Tyler took one out in the last corridor. We're coming for you crazy lady, be careful, yellow's not your color."
Damn straight.
"Copy that." I cast another eye back towards the crate. Tony sits, still cursing on the floor with his back against the wall, but he's out of the game and no threat. Malinda though, she is a problem. And she is, of course, nowhere to be seen.
Fucking freaking fantastic!
I can almost feel the little plastic ball explode against my back as I move through the corridor, past the crate, past Tony and around the next corner. I'm met with another empty hall; skin prickling as I scan the area. There's only one door, windows six meters up the walls and a stair case leading to another floor. So up it is. "Chris, what's your twenty?" Tyler's voice is low and tense as it rasps through the earpiece. "We are running out of time." I tap lightly against my microphone, back against the railing as I work my way up. Backup would be nice, but as Tyler said, we're running out of time. "Is she close?"
Tap.
"Where are you? First floor?"
No.
"Second?"
Tap
"South-east?"
Tap.
Probably…
The second floor is covered with things perfect for hiding, desks, shelves and crates spread out in a "the floor is lava" kind of way; and damnit, she could be anywhere.
And that she could be anywhere usually means that she is standing right behind you.
Tap, tap, tap.
I turn just in time to see Malinda rise up from behind an overturned desk like a revenging angel, gun raised and eyes burning. As she fires I drop to the floor, avoiding the first "bullet" but almost falling down the stairs in the process. A second shot hits the floor inches from my face and the paint sprays over my skin. I roll away, heart in my throat, gun raised only to find myself staring down the barrel of her gun. "This is it, street rat!"
The hell it is!
"Shugart!" Blue paint explodes against her black clothes and body armor, splatters up over her neck and cheeks. She stands frozen, stunned, staring down at me with barely contained rage. "How did y…?!" I laugh then, breath catching in my throat. "Oh I wish I did Mal, I wish I did." Tyler and Cody are moving up the stairs, guns still at the ready. "Good job Chris!" I grin. "Why thank you, but next time you're the damsel in distress." Cody laughs as he drags me to my feet while Tyler raises his hand to the receiver. "Burman, Terrano and Rivard, team two, clear."
We walk out into the evening sun as a team; for me it's a new, foreign feeling. Liberating almost. Together we stand in front of the three generals supervising our test and together we receive our verdict.
"You have successfully rescued all four hostages and neutralized three subjects within the given timeframe. You will be contacted for evaluation when there's an open spot on a SRU team. It might take years, it might be next week. Until then, keep sharp, be ready. Congratulations ladies…and gentleman. You are cleared for duty."
Tyler turns to Cody, disbelief clear in his face. "Did they just call us ladies?" Cody sighs, pulling of his helmet. "Yeah, I think they did. It happens a lot when you work with the crazy lady."
And so begins the beginning of another end.