SR2, done for a prompt, 'gray'! Having some fun with the aftermath of the FUZZ activity.

"They seriously love this?" V tried to ask around the doughnut in her mouth. "This is about the same level as that time we stopped at Freckle Bitch's."

"It's just fucking gold when you walk in there and manage to get the same discount. People can't tell the difference between the genuine article and you if you've got even a shred of acting skill."

She took another giant bite out of the powdered doughnut. "You trying to butter me up?"

"If it keeps you working!" Ken, the Fuzz cameraman said.

"Then keep on talking, my friend." The powder was getting all over her mock uniform, and the hand she swiped across it streaked it more. "Shit. We don't have anything else planned right now, do we?"

"Well, we can take a good ten minutes to listen for more calls, because I've got plenty of time if you're willing to supply the footage."

The rest of the doughnut went in her mouth as they turned the corner outside of the store and she nearly choked on it.

Standing next to their car was Troy, and he appeared nothing short of furious. Arms crossed, posture tense, and partially in uniform, he must've been on his way home when he took a detour.

Lucky her. Or maybe she would be lucky if she was able to stop coughing her lungs out. V pointed towards Ken, who'd gone pale, then shook her head hard. That didn't help any when Troy walked right on over.

"Don't. You," he pointed right at the cameraman, "get out of here."

Ken shook off the nervousness and plastered on a smile. "What's the harm, Chief Bradshaw? Just going around and cleaning up the streets! I know you and our producers didn't have the best talk, but-"

"You know how much those cameras run, pal? Want to guess how much I give a fuck?"

Mr. Gung Ho Action actually dropped it and left. Must've had too many bad runs with the Chief before, and V was almost impressed at the amount of ire Troy was generating. Then again, in the wake of the expression currently on his face most people would probably try to duck out at the earliest opportunity.

Instead, she hooked her fingers in the loops of her semi-regulation pants and pouted. "Not a fan?" He grabbed one of her arms and twisted it just enough to sting as he marched her over to his car. "Jesus! Guess not."

The feeling of it being like a lecture gone wrong lasted until she felt cuffs actually get slapped on her wrists. Then he pushed her into the passenger side and slammed the door behind her. She balked, but pulled her feet up to get her arms in front of her by the time he got in.

"Not a fucking word," he barked when she opened her mouth.

They took off past the few people who'd been around to witness it and V held on tight to the chain linking her hands. That hold loosened when he didn't take the turn leading down to the station, but when he pulled onto her street she held them even tighter.

She wanted to ask him what he was doing. It was one thing to get her out and leave her in a place where she could hail a taxi, and another to drive her home.

They weren't on the worst terms anymore. If that had been true, she would've cut and run, or punched the hell out of him for putting a hand on her. They weren't even on bad terms, if she was being honest. The conversations they'd had over the phone had been civil, familiar even, and without the info he'd given she never would've been able to hit the gangs as hard.

But this was crossing a line. The small invisible line she'd carved between them the minute she'd woken up and found out exactly who he was. He'd crossed it, and she didn't even feel anything close to angry or defensive. That surprised her more than anything, as he pulled into a spot right next to her hole-in-the-wall apartment.

The car idled for a good five minutes while he kept his eyes ahead of him. Maybe he was thinking the exact same thing.

"Do you know how hard you make my job sometimes?"

She opened her mouth then shut it fast when he glared at her. Rhetorical question. Of course.

"I don't know if I even want to touch on any of that shit, especially with how it's continuing to develop on all sides. There's blind, there's stupid, but maybe I'm giving myself too much credit for trying not to be either when four groups of people keep on trying to rip this place apart. Am I?"

V looked away.

"And what are you trying to do? Take it back? That still your plan? Even if the whole place goes up in fucking smoke?"

"I'm not the only one-"

"Wake the fuck up, V. You're not, but I need someone to think about the consequences." He sounded so worn in that instant that she had to turn, and he didn't avoid her eyes. "Even for a minute."

"You want me? Need me?" He didn't say yes or no, but he didn't need to. "Not sure we see the same person when I look in the mirror, Chief."

Up close like this disappointment was hard to ignore as well. "Get them up."

She held her wrists out and his radio picked up. "-mugging down in Shivington-"

"You know," V offered, "it's not as bad with the right person watching."

"Doesn't matter. It's goddamn bizarre seeing you waltz around in that." Troy kept his attention on the radio, however.

"But I'm close. We could drop on by, and maybe you could give me a lesson or two."

His head snapped towards her. "Lesson?"

"Just like old times."

Another officer responded and Troy shut it off. "What are you trying to prove?"

"I'm not trying to prove a fucking thing! Maybe I'm just trying to-" Understand?

She closed her mouth and winced at how hard she bit her tongue. It was too late for him not to notice, but she tried to compose herself anyway.

"Look, they approached me first. They wanted to see some stupid shit, and I'm always down to take out assholes messing with people going about their business. Maybe I wanted to see what it was like for once."

Troy stared at her for a good long while and V was once again the first to break eye contact. The moment she did, he ran a hand over his face and gestured towards her wrists.

They went up and he pulled his keys out to unlock the cuffs. The metal slid off, but he didn't immediately let go of her. He ran a thumb over the edge of her old tattoo and she felt her chest tighten.

"It's not as easy on the other side, is it?"

"Fuck no. I only had a handful of rules to follow and it chafed."

He almost cracked a smile. "Course it did."

"Shut up." It was reflexive. Even now. She pulled away to take the fake hat off. "I can be responsible. I'd just rather be fun. Should try it yourself sometime."

The amusement dropped fast, but his blank expression wavered. "Already did. It's not that easy."

"It can be."

She pushed open the door and winked at him, but held up a finger as she wandered over to his side of the car. Leaning against his door, she waited for him to crack the window and wasn't sure what to make of the wary way he was now looking at her.

"I'll behave for a while, but if you ever get bored or want to crawl out from behind your desk, you could call."

"Call?"

"Yeah. Relive the good old days. Help me take the Brotherhood or Samedi down a peg or two. Wouldn't that be a trip?"

He lowered his eyes. "Wouldn't it."

His window was up before she could say anything else.