Alright! Another chapter! This one is really straightforward so let's just jump right in.
"What happened to your face?!"
Those were the first words out of Mary Ryan's mouth upon seeing King, who had patiently waited for her to arrive at the small restaurant in the city and was sipping on an over-sweetened strawberry lemonade. However, unlike Maddy's question the day before, Mary's was full of genuine concern.
"Hello to you as well," the bartender greeted with a smirk.
"Hi but seriously —" Mary placed her motorcycle helmet aside while sitting at the small table — "what happened?"
There was silence as King absently stirred her drink with her straw while thinking of what to say. She hadn't seen or really even talked to her friend in weeks — since before she started fighting, even, as both had been so busy with their respective jobs that linking up had been much more challenging than either of them would have liked. In a way, it might have been a good thing, though, because Mary probably would have talked King out of fighting had she known about it. And that was why the bartender found herself conflicted over whether or not she should answer the question honestly. Finally, after a long moment, she took a deep breath and simply said, "Work mishap."
"And your hand?" Mary prodded.
"...Same mishap."
The freckle-faced investigator gave King a look that was so severe it made her want to flee the country.
"I know you didn't just try to bullshit me right now."
King grimaced. She should have known better than to lie to Mary, who had somehow been able to see straight through her since the day they met.
"What. Did. You. Do," the other woman sternly demanded.
"Well, business got really slow for a while," King started carefully. "And… one night, after work, I… uhh… I kind of… joined an underground fighting ring and have been street fighting for money on top of working at the bar…!"
She flashed Mary, who was staring at her with her brow furrowed and lips slightly parted, a somewhat nervous grin.
"You're…"
"Yes…?" King responded cautiously.
"You're ridiculous!" Mary exclaimed. "What the hell —?! Why would you —?!"
"Money, Mare! I need to save up for Jean's bills, but I also need to get the fuck out of that house and I can't afford to do both!"
"Okay but maybe do something legal?! Did you forget that you're still on probation!?"
"My sentence is almost up, and maybe if I'm lucky, I can get it cut short by a month or two," King reasoned.
"Céc," the agent dragged the name out, her tone frustrated, as she buried her head in her hands.
King frowned upon hearing her name, but also because she had let her only real friend down.
"You need to stop," Mary stated very seriously as she raised her head and fixed her pale eyes on King, who withered under her intense gaze but was intent on standing her ground.
"I can't do that," she replied stubbornly.
"Yes — you can!"
"But I'm making great money on the side and actually having a little fun for once!"
"Money isn't everything, Céc. Think of how much shit you'll be in if you get caught! I'm not on the force anymore — I can't help you if something goes south."
"Nothing will go south," King replied. "I mean, yeah, this —" she pointed to her injury — "has posed a little bit of a challenge as far as my daily life is concerned, but it's not like anyone cares enough to really look into how I got it anyway!"
"I care!"
There was a pause just as the waiter came over to take Mary's drink order. She made her request (a cookies and cream milkshake), then waited before the man was out of earshot before taking a sharp breath. She looked like she had more to say, but King spoke first.
"I appreciate your concern," she started, "I do! But I'll be fine! I've been doing it for over a month now and haven't had any problems."
"Until now. What did you tell your coworkers? And your family?"
"I told my coworkers that I got hurt helping out with a home-improvement project, and I told Maddy and Gary that I got hit with the push broom."
"And they believed that?"
"Yes."
"What about Jean?" Mary inquired.
"What about him?"
"Did he actually believe that?"
"I am very convincing," King answered before taking a quick sip of her lemonade.
"Pfft, not to me."
"That's because of your spooky psychic shit."
"I don't have spooky psychic shit; you're just not as slick as you think you are."
"Neither are you, Blue."
"Touché."
The waiter returned with Mary's drink in what had to have been record time but left when King informed him that she and the agent needed some more time to look at the menu. Once he was gone, the two women stared at one another and said nothing. King squirmed a little bit but was determined not to let Mary's opinions (or concern, as touching as it was) dissuade her.
"You know," the former officer spoke up after taking a long, drawn-out sip of her drink. "You're a very smart woman, Céc. But you're stupid-smart."
King quirked a brow.
"'Stupid-smart?'"
"Yeah. You pick new things up like that —" Mary snapped her fingers several times in quick succession — "but when it comes to basic stuff like making an omelette or, I dunno… not breaking the law? You're dumb. Or you're crazy. Or, you're crazy and dumb. Either way, you're —"
"Dumb."
"See? You picked that up right away."
Another uncomfortable silence set in as Mary placed her cup down, leaned back in her seat, and crossed her muscular arms over her chest. The look on her face — which King knew all too well — said more than her words at that moment ever could.
"Please don't be angry with me," the bartender pleaded.
"It's a little hard not to be," Mary huffed. "I've spent all this time trying to help keep you on the straight and narrow because I know there's a good person in there —"
"What does that have to —
" — but then you turn around and make yet another colossally bad decision!"
"Bad decision or not, it's helping to pay the bills!"
Mary let out a very deep sigh before leaning forward and putting her elbows on the table.
"Did you even stop to think of what would happen if you got caught?"
King's eyes widened and her breath hitched as she realized that she actually hadn't; she had just jumped right into fighting with very little thought. There was a loaded silence as she pushed some hair away from her eyes.
"Uh… …no," she finally answered lamely. She promptly looked away from her friend as a sinking feeling washed over her.
"Didn't think so!" Mary threw her hands up. "This impulsivity of yours is not cute."
King pressed her lips together and stayed quiet, knowing Mary had more to say. Sure enough:
"I take it you're going by King again? You better be going by King again."
"Of course I am! I'm not crazy enough to go by my real name out there!"
"At least there's that."
"Mary…"
"Cécile."
King grimaced, as Mary only broke out her full first name when she was highly displeased. But of course, the bartender completely understood; she would feel the same way if the roles were reversed, which was why she let out a very loud sigh of her own and hid behind her menu.
"If you get caught you could do real time," Mary began. "What you're doing now is considered assault and battery. Or aggravated assault. Or, in an extreme case? Attempted manslaughter."
"Attempted manslaughter?!" King exclaimed. "Jesus, it's not that serious!"
"Maybe not to you."
"...fuck..."
"Not to mention your family," the agent added. "This would give Maddy and Gary a full-blown, legitimate reason to keep you out of Jean's life for good. And Jean needs you, just like you need him. Céc, how was that not the first thing that came to mind?!"
"Because, Mare," King answered miserably while setting her menu aside, "I hadn't made shit in weeks and the insurance company refuses to cover the surgery so we have to pay out of pocket!"
"What? Why?"
"They consider it elective."
"Elective?! Seriously?!"
King nodded.
"Healthcare in this country is so broken," she lamented.
"I think that's the first thing you've said today that I actually agree with you on," Mary commented.
The bartender made a face.
"Look," she started, "I can't keep watching my brother go through all of this bullshit! And as much as I despise them, I can't keep watching Maddy and Gary struggle to keep up with all of these expenses!"
"You look," Mary shot back. "It's a noble cause or whatever, but if you fail? If something happens to you? Not only does Jean not get the surgery, but he also loses you on top of it. So he'll still be crippled — and without his big Céc to take care of him. You really didn't think of any of that?!"
King swallowed hard as she ran a hand through her hair.
"I… I didn't."
"And now?" Mary prodded.
"And now I am."
"So what's your next move then, your majesty?"
"I'll stop," the Frenchwoman said quickly. "I'll go one more night —"
"Céc!"
" — and then that's it. I promise."
Mary didn't look convinced.
"I promise," King told her very seriously.
"You really mean it?"
"Yes!"
With that, the bartender held out her pinky finger.
"What are you doing? What is this?" The agent asked, wary.
"Pinky promises are sacred in the Levasseur family," King explained. "We make a pinky promise and that's it. It's binding and can never be broken."
"Okay but what happens if you break it?"
"Nothing, because I won't. I swear!"
"Fine —" Mary hooked her pinky around King's — "One and done."
"One and done!"
King then let go of the agent's finger and leaned back in her seat, angry at herself for her lack of foresight but grateful to finally have someone in her life who cared enough to tell her when she was being a dumbass.
See? Straightforward. I don't think there are even any real notes here? In no particular order:
* Levasseur is the non-canon surname for King and Jean
* Big Céc. Did you see what I did there? Now do you understand why Cécile/Céc is such a great name?
* The American healthcare system is ridiculous. "Broken" is probably much too mild a term to describe it.
* King was sentenced to one-year probation after going to the cops about Big and the Syndicate. A really light sentence, yes, because the detective she went to pulled a few dozen strings
Okay, that's a wrap here. Will King truly keep her promise to Mary? Come back next time to find out!
Cheers~