tags: sexual harassment, protective 20-David Squad, physical altercation.
-x-
"Yeah, fuck off!" Chris throws over her shoulder, with a laugh and a shake of her head.
Jumbos is loud and crowded as Chris winds her way around drunk patrons and high-top tables to bass-heavy pop music. She can feel the team's eyes on her, and that Street hasn't stopped shooing her off towards the bar.
"No sore losers!" She hears behind her, and she promises herself that the next time they run drills, she's coming in first across the board, even if that means shooting them in the leg to do it.
"It's not your fault your gun jammed." Tan told her after, clapping her on the shoulder.
"Yeah, but you're still buying tonight!" Luca jumped in, never one to let a bet fall on a technicality.
"I'm thinking nachos." Street said, a grin so bright that she wanted to smack it off his face.
Chris knew they wouldn't, because she wouldn't if the roles were reversed, but she threw a look to where Hondo and Deacon stood at the other end of the warehouse. Hondo gave her a smile, not technically in on the bet, but knowing he'd be getting a drink out of it all the same.
Deacon, bless him, at least tried to show Chris a sympathetic smile before going back to discussing the scores. Luca wrapped an arm around Chris to bring her back to them, making her laugh as they walked back towards the locker room.
"Hey, Chris?" She heard Deacon shout, turning around to look at him.
"Extra jalapeños."
Chris lets the memory fade, but the smile stays on her face as she reaches the bar. Her body is jostled by the other people around her, pushing into her, oblivious. Two people to her right are all over one another, all hands and hair, and Chris averts her eyes and knocks twice on the bar to occupy herself.
She left her phone on the table, regrettably. At least if she had it, she could beat Tan in 8ball while she waits.
"Hey! Sorry about the wait." The bartender says a minute later. She's pretty, blonde, with green eyes and rosy lips, and Chris feels the annoyance drain from her at the smile she gets.
"No worries, I need another round of beers, and nachos. Extra jalapeños on the side, please."
"Got it. The kitchen is crazy backed up, so the nachos might take a minute. Do you have a tab?"
"Yeah, it's under Chris, thanks." The blonde nods, her ponytail bouncing as she turns around and starts popping off beer caps.
"I'll deliver these to the guys and then be back, that's the only way I'll get to eat any." Chris says, maneuvering all 5 bottles into her hands and starting the arduous trek back to the table.
When they see her, Luca throws his hands up like the party has finally returned. Chris dips slightly to set the bottles down, the clinking getting lost in the midst of people and music.
"Where are my nachos?" Tan teases, and Chris shoulder checks him to keep him in line.
"I just came for my phone."
Chris smacks the device once in her palm and then pushes it into her pocket.
"I'll be back, don't have too much fun without me."
This time, the bartender is waiting for Chris. She props a foot up on the small lip underneath the bar, thanks her, and takes a sip of her beer.
"Busy night," Chris opens, gesturing to the rest of the place with her bottle.
"Yeah, pays the bills, though."
"Mm, been there." Chris says. Reaching into her back pocket, she pulls out a ten and sets in on the bar.
"Thank you." The bartender says, sliding the bill into her own back pocket with a smirk. "I'm Lisa, by the way."
"Lisa, I'm Chris."
"You said. You and your guys are also, well, your reputation precedes you."
Chris furrows her brows.
"SWAT, right?" Lisa asks, and Chris nods.
"Yeah. The big one, blonde—"
"Luca," Chris fills in.
"Yeah, him. My boss and a bunch of our other regulars followed the Police versus Fire Brawl, Bowl, thing last year. My boss has been trying to get a hold of him for an arm wrestling tournament here, 50/50."
Chris almost snorts, filing that information for later. She wipes her chin and sets the bottle back down, giving Lisa a grin.
"I'll let him know."
Lisa nods as yelling from the opposite side of the bar gets her attention, and she smiles at Chris one more time over her shoulder as she goes to take another order.
A blush spreads across Chris's cheeks and chest as she watches Lisa walk away. Her phone vibrates.
She's pretty!
Street. Chris rolls her eyes, again, and when she looks back at the team, all of them are staring at her like her love life is the most interesting thing they've seen all day. They raise their bottles up to her, Luca mouthing something that looks distinctly like Get it! Chris can feel her face get even warmer at their encouragements, and she looks away so they can't do anything else.
"Looks like Chris might be the one of us winning today after all," Tan comments, watching as Chris tucks her hair behind her ear and has another drink of her beer.
"Trouble in paradise with Bonnie?" Luca questions.
Tan smirks, standing up straighter out of habit.
"Absolutely not. You on a new girl yet this week, Luca?"
Luca doesn't answer, sipping his beer as the rest of them chuckle.
Finishing her beer, Chris sets the empty bottle down and checks her watch. She's beginning to worry that these nachos are lost in the ether when another problem brushes up against her.
"What's a pretty girl like you doing buying drinks for herself?" A man says, running a hand over her lower back as he comes around to her left.
Involuntarily, Chris's fist flexes, and she hopes if she ignores the man, he'll go away.
Why would she be so lucky?
"Ooh, hard to get. I like that! I'm Justin, by the way."
Justin waves another bartender over, and then turns his attention back to Chris. In her periphery, she runs a look up-and-down Justin.
She's unimpressed.
"So, what are you drinking?" He says, pressing closer until she can feel the ghost of his breath on her neck.
"Nothing I can't buy myself." Chris cuts, acutely aware of the weight of her gun in her waistband.
"Oh, c'mon, don't be like that. Give me a smile?"
"Hey, who's the clown?" Deacon asks, jutting his head in the direction of Chris. The rest of the team turns to look, almost comically in sync. They can't see much with too many bodies between theirs and hers, but it's clear that he's too close to Chris for comfort.
"I'm sure Chris can handle herself." Street reminds them all, though he knows that's not something that was in question, and his jaw clenches.
The team observes for another moment, content to let Chris be, until whoever this man is wraps a hand around her forearm and holds her where she is. With the way she looks around, they can tell she's checking the space, and seeing there's not enough room for her to move away.
"Tan, go." Deacon says, same tone of voice as when they're about to raid a building. Nodding, Tan swigs his beer and makes his way through the crowd himself.
The closer he gets, the more of Chris's tense body language is visible, and Tan bites back yelling from six feet away.
Grabby hands. He's heard the horror stories from Chris, and seen enough to want to knock this guy's teeth out himself, but she deserves the honor. Telling himself to keep his cool, Tan walks up behind Chris and sets a hand on her shoulder.
If looks could kill, Tan's glare would be a death sentence.
"Hey, Chris, babe, you good?"
Craning her neck, Chris sees Tan behind her. She gives him a look, understanding his play and rolling with it. His hand is a welcome feeling on her anyway, more than Justin's, from years of giving each other two and being in the ring.
"Yeah, I'm fine." She reassures him with a wide smile, leaning into him some, but her tone is sharp and directed at Justin, who still refuses to let go of her arm. "They said the kitchen's backed up. It might be a minute."
"Oh." Justin says, a meek look on his face as he turns and walks away.
"Alright." Tan says. Keeping his glare locked on the guy, Tan doesn't blink until he can no longer see the back of his head.
"Thanks," Chris says, and then mutters under her breath about drunk assholes.
"I'm good, Tan," she assures, rolling her neck in the direction of his table. Tan nods, throwing one more look over the bar before leaving her.
"He's a sleaze bag, but Chris said she's good." Tan reports. "Kitchen's backed up."
"Sounds like our girl." Hondo says, his smile also tight from knowing that anyone is messing with someone on his team.
Tan's visit grants Chris a few minutes of peace, enough to flag down Lisa, who looks at her with wide, apologetic eyes.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't put the order in. I'll do it now, on the house. And what're you drinking? Another beer?
Chris gives her an easy smile and says it's okay. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Justin coming back over from the bathroom. She watches as he scopes her out again, making sure no one else is around her.
"Another beer would be great."
Lisa stops at the computer to actually put in the nachos, though Chris doesn't have high hopes because the bar has only gotten busier in the last ten minutes. After, she pops a beer and passes it off as she slides past Chris, unable to stay and talk any longer.
Chris pulls out her phone, aware of Justin traversing the sea of people. There's a look in his eyes like a wolf, but it aggravates her more than scares her. She scrolls through her emails, deleting the junk, trying to look busy.
Say the word, Chris.
It's Luca, in the squad group chat, and she shoots back a thumbs up.
"Leave me alone." Chris bites, the second Justin finds his way back into her space.
He keeps his hands to himself, and Chris keeps a watch on them out of the corner of her eye. Justin's other hand rests on the bar, so Chris white knuckles her beer.
"C'mon, loosen up, sweetheart. Your dog's gone now," Justin smirks, now undeterred. "Is it wrong for someone to want to buy you a drink?"
Chris huffs a laugh, disbelief crossing her eyes, keeping them glued to the TV above the bar.
"You going to stop at the drink or use that a reason why you deserve to have sex with me?"
He's a snake. His grin widens at her words, and he presses ever closer to her as the heat of the other bodies surrounding them builds.
"So you're thinking about sex?"
Chris slams her beer on the bar.
With their attention already focused on her, it's not a sound the team misses. There's a silent conversation to decide who's going to her. Luca and Street look long past the point of trying to remain diplomatic.
Hondo cracks his knuckles.
"Chris." Hondo says, once he's within earshot. Chris's head whips around to him, her chest opening some when she meets his eyes.
All she wanted was some fucking nachos.
"I'm good, boss." Chris says, not giving Hondo the chance to even open his mouth. He gives her a curt nod, his attention turning to Justin, who's eyeing the table.
"And you? What're you up to tonight, hotshot?"
"What's it to you, boss?" Justin sneers.
Chris would laugh if she didn't have to step in between them to keep a fight from breaking out. The second the words leave Justin's mouth, Chris knows Hondo won't play. A glance over his shoulder tells her the rest of the team is just waiting for something to start so they can be justified to jump in.
"Hondo, I'm good."
"I know." Hondo says, no doubt in his tone. But Justin is looking at him like it would honestly be a fair fight, and Hondo's hands starting wringing.
Luckily, Lisa's bright voice breaks through all of that, and in her hands is a platter of food.
"Chris! Got your nachos, extra jalapeños!"
Lisa leans over to hand the plate to Chris. Sensing the energy between the trio, she stands back up, fingers drumming awkwardly on the edge of the bar.
"Sorry, again. I'll get another round over to you folks in a few, also on the house."
"Thanks, Lisa," Chris says, not giving Justin another glance as she smiles at the bartender and heads back to the table, telling Hondo it's not worth the energy.
Hondo is a different story. He thanks Lisa, and then lets his jaw clench and eyes bore into Justin for another minute before turning around.
By the time he returns to the table, a dent's been made in the nachos and Deacon is rubbing small circles over Chris's shoulder.
"Whatever. He's probably on some other poor woman by now." Chris says, but they can see how her eyes keep darting back to the bar, how she's traded beer for water, how she's not completely able to relax.
"Guys like that need someone to knock some sense into them," Luca fires off, angry. Chris gives him a sympathetic smile.
"I would've, but there are too many other people around. I won't be responsible for a bar brawl tonight. That's more Street's MO."
Street freezes, wide eyes as he swallows a bite, and the rest of the team chuckles at him.
"Okay," he says, "I did absolutely nothing to deserve that."
Tan holds his bottle up to Street's, clinking them.
"Oh, I recall you getting into more than a few fights in your early days with us. You're quick to forget, Street."
"All right, all right, maybe. But I turned it around." Street concedes, pulling a laugh from all of them.
"Yeah, well don't break your streak on that asshole." Chris says, circling a pointed look to all of them and then turning back to her own food.
"At least this puppy was on the house."
Clear that she's over it, the conversation lapses back into sports and work and loving teasing. They talk until one of Deacon gets a glance at the clock, just past midnight.
"Good thing we're off tomorrow, but I'm not looking to sleep it away. I've got a lot to do with the kids." Deacon says. His words signal the end of the night, and the rest follow with their own reasons to head home.
"I'll settle up." Chris says, rolling her eyes again at the team's smirks. They push the empty bottles and stack the plates, walking towards the door but waiting for Chris.
Now significantly emptier, Chris crosses the floor with ease. She keeps her head on a swivel, but Justin is nowhere to be found. Lisa's standing near enough to the cash register that she sees Chris coming, taking her card with a smile.
"Make sure you talk to Officer Luca about that arm wrestling thing. Not sure when you guys will be back in," Lisa says, stopping to scrawl something on Chris's copy of the receipt before handing it to her, "so my number is there if you want to give me a call."
"Will do." Chris says, a light blush and half smile on her face. She tucks the receipt into her pocket and reunites with the team, Tan patting her on the back as Deacon holds the door.
The night air is cold, but a welcome change from the inside. Their cars are all spread down the block, Street's bike closest and Chris's truck down near the crosswalk. After a quick goodnight and rounds of hugs and fist bumps, they go their separate ways.
Chris doesn't notice Justin in the small alleyway, leaning against the next door building. Neither does the rest of the team, too caught up in their own goodbyes and sending off "be home soon" texts that he manages to slink towards her unseen.
She's underneath the next set of fluorescent signs and awnings when unfamiliar hands comes around her, pin her arms to her sides, and pull her into the alley with them.
"Hey!" Chris shouts, right before her body is spun around, and her back is slammed hard enough against the brick building to knock the wind out of her.
In the second she needs to regain her breath, she can make out Justin's features in the dim light. He says something to her, but her ears are ringing and all she can focus on is the thick layer of alcohol on his breath.
Just as her body kicks into fight or flight, Chris feels Justin being ripped off her and sees him thrown to the opposite wall. The gray of Luca's sweatshirt fills her vision, his voice getting raspier as he yells.
"What the fuck was that, dude? Stay the hell away from her."
He's replaced by Street and Tan in her sight line, the former cupping her cheek as Chris's heart beats loud against her chest.
"Hey, Chris, you're okay. You're with me?"
"Yeah, I'm good," Chris says, clearing her throat after another moment. She looks between Street and Tan, trying to see through the small space between them what's going on.
Luca's voice reaches her, but not his words.
"C'mon, we'll walk you to your truck."
Chris nods, but she can't tear her eyes away from the alley until they're all physically out of her sight. Hondo stands at the entrance, clearly on the phone with someone, and she focuses on Tan and Street on either side of her.
They're a few feet away, Chris able to see the cab of her truck, when a scuffle from behind pulls her attention. She spins around to see what's going on, and walks back towards the alley with the boys on her heels.
Justin is on the ground, face down, with his arm twisted behind his back courtesy of Luca. She can't see either's face, but she imagines neither looks pretty.
Deacon is stalking towards the pair. Reaching them, he squats down enough to pick up Justin's scraped chin, and his voice is low when he speaks.
"You say one more word to her, you deal with me. Understand?"
At his desperate nod, Deacon drops Justin's face and looks up to see Chris staring at them with wide eyes and a set jaw.
"Go," she says, Tan and Street taking the hint and heading towards Luca. Deacon comes to Chris.
"What did he say?" Chris asks, arms crossed in front of her chest.
"Chris—"
"Deacon."
Deacon sighs, unsure of why he expected any different. He meets Chris's eyes, both of their features illuminated by the bright streetlights.
"He called you a bitch. And I think he might've said something else, but honestly I didn't hear it at that point."
Chris rolls her eyes, and she looks past Deacon and into the alley, where Luca has hauled Justin to his feet. Hondo's off the phone, and he's talking to Street and Tan, but Chris can't make out what they're saying.
Despite the ice that cools her blood at the thought, Chris refuses to let some drunk nobody scare her away. Chest up, she walks back towards the team and the alley.
"Unis are on their way to take him downtown." Hondo tells her, and she nods.
"I'm not going down there, too. They can charge him with disorderly conduct." She warns the team. They nod, not arguing.
"Hopefully a night or two in jail can teach Mr. Tough Guy to keep his hands to himself." Street spits, and Chris laughs, her eyes settled and confident again when she looks at him.
"They are gonna want a statement, Chris," Hondo says, fixing her with an apologetic, but unwavering look. She nods, says she'll stick around until they show up, and leans against the front of the bar building.
"You all don't have to wait, too," she tells the team as they crowd around her.
"Might as well." Tan starts. "Luca's the only thing keeping that guy in check, and it'll take all of us to keep Luca in check."
Chris hangs her head to exhale before looking back up at the team, features soft.
"Thanks for the protection detail tonight."
Deacon sets a hand on her arm, smiling at her with sympathy, but not pity.
"What are teammates for? Thought Hondo was ready to kill him when he walked up to you a second time."
Hondo puts his hands up as if he's going to argue, but Street steps in.
"We all were. That guy's a dick."
Street's comment makes Chris flash a closed-lip smile, the kind she reserves for when she won't be sentimental, but can't help how good being cared for feels. The grout is gritty under her fingers, and they watch the traffic pass and check on Luca as they wait for a Squad Car to roll up.
It finally does five minutes later. The cops are quick to jump out and head towards Luca with cuffs in hand.
"Sorry, we got here as soon as we could."
Luca's knuckles are white from how tightly he's clenching the fist not holding Justin's arm. He watches as they lock the cuffs and keep a hand on each of Justin's elbows to guide him to the backseat.
Chris can tell Justin is still watching her. She brings up her eyes to meet his, fire dancing in her pupils as he continues to look at her like she's an object. Chris's blood boils, and it's only Street's hand gently coming to rest at the front of her wrist and his voice in her ear that keeps from saying something.
"Don't break your streak tonight, either."
Chris is content to listen to him. But then Justin's voice rings out again, and Street is moving too fast for her to stop him.
"Whore!"
Street's arm presses into Justin's neck, hard enough for him to squirm.
"Don't you dare. Get in the car." Street hisses, his eyes bouncing between Justin's as the latter is stuck between Street's bicep and the frame of the car.
He clambers into the car when Street steps back enough for him to move. Street's glare rivals the rest of the team's behind him, and he bangs on the window once after slamming the door closed.
Breaking away from the group without a word, Chris finds the other uniformed officer and gives him a quick rundown of everything that happened. They trade a final glance and a nod before the officer gets into the driver's side, his partner giving a final word to the team and then doing the same.
The team is silent as Chris comes back over, worried they're about to be scolded. Chris is never happy to have to remind anyone that she's more than capable of taking care of herself.
She runs a hand up her bicep, the cool air settling heavier on her now. Looking up, she's staring into the eyes of the team as they stand in a half-circle, waiting for whatever she has to say.
Shaking her head, Chris breaks into a wide smile and a laugh escapes her.
"You guys are something else. Thanks for having my back."
They match her smile, friendly hands slapping her shoulders and back, and Luca pulling her into a tight hug.
"But," Chris starts, eyes tracing them all over once more, "if you ever pull anything like on that clock, I'll—"
"We wouldn't dream of it, Chris." Hondo assures her, the rest of the team nodding, knowing full well where she was going with that sentence.
"It's only because you couldn't shoot him in a crowd that big." Luca grins at her.
"Good," she says, her tone light. Fishing for her keys and phone, once she has them, the rest of the team returns to theirs.
"I'll see you guys Monday." She gives them one last smile and then walks to her truck. Inside, she leans her head back against the seat rest and sighs.
"See you on Monday, Chris!" They echo back, waiting to make sure she's in her car to get to theirs.
-x-
Hello! Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed! This is a little brainchild inspired by a conversation I had with sandyfin. Because we all love Chris and know she can take care of herself, but any time anyone on the team refers to her as "our girl" or anything of the sort, we lose it. And they deserve to go into protective mode over her, as a treat. Kudos/comments appreciated! Let me know if there's something you want to see. Come say hi on tumblr streakyglasses! Xo Allie