Hey guys! This is a story I'm toying with. Let me know if it sounds like something any of you would be interested in reading. Thanks! I plan on it involving more of the main characters and their shenanigans. Maybe even smutty lol. Let me know what you think.
The office was busy, but not more than normal. People were being led in and out at a steady pace and she was no different. Another faceless person amongst the crowd was led in wearing her very own pair of handcuffs. She was seated beside the arresting officer and soon asked everything needed for her paperwork to be filled out.
"You're lucky." He said after a few minutes of typing in silence.
She rolled her head lazily, sarcastically, in his direction and cocked a brow.
"How's that, then?" she asked in a soft English accent.
He shifted in his seat to look at the defiant young woman.
"He's not pressing charges." He said simply.
"Oh wonderful." She sighed in derision. "Because that would've put a damper on my day. Now then," she lifted her wrists and showed them to the officer. "If you'd be so kind."
He eyed her sternly, but both knew there was nothing he could do about it. Without charges being filed, her trespassing arrest was little more than a blip in the day and they had no reason to keep her. Reluctantly, he reached for his key and tugged her wrists closer. She said nothing as he unlocked them and soon slid them off.
"I'll take you down to Booking to collect your things." He said as he stood.
She gave him a curt smile and followed, gingerly rubbing her wrists as she did. She was annoyed she'd been arrested, but it wasn't anything new. This time, she'd simply been caught trying to get the pictures her client wanted, nothing more.
Thinking quickly, she'd given a common excuse. Being foreign, she said she was lost, swore the house belonged to someone she knew, and that her camera was nothing more than a hobby. She was always sure to keep a SIM card filled with local images in reserve in case the police arrived. It wouldn't have looked good if they checked her camera and found pictures of the person who called them, would it? At the precinct she'd explain why, but it was far less likely the target would drop charges when there was clear evidence they were being spied on.
Following the portly officer out, the pair had to hesitate briefly. The cop stood aside to let a large man enter the offices. He was tall –dauntingly so- with dark hair cut short to his head and an intimidating glower. With sharp features and an overall imposing figure, it was easy to see why the much rounder officer would allow the second passage. That wasn't the reason, however.
"Captain," the arresting office greeted with a nod of the head.
"Simmons," he replied in a terse voice.
The Captain was prepared to walk on, but instinctively glanced to the young woman following Simmons. She met his stare at the same instant.
Renard felt something cold form at the base of his neck and move south down his spine. His sharp eyes narrowed as he took in the young woman's appearance. There was something oddly familiar about her.
She had rounded features, but they weren't without womanly attributes. Her cheekbones were defined, her chin narrow and her lips full. She wore little makeup which kept her overly fair skin open to the elements. Her dark hair was tied up in a loose fitting bun with random tresses hanging down around her neck and a few pieces of grass and leaves caught within. Her clothing was nothing more than simple, but her knees were muddied as were her elbows.
But those held little to none of his attention. It was her eyes. She was clearly average age, but she stared at him with such animosity he found it almost incredible. She had the eyes of a woman fifty years her senior, the eyes of someone who'd seen more than she rightfully should have and the stern line to her jaw to prove it. And in that stare he noticed something he felt foolish for not realizing before. Her eyes were different colors. One, the left, was a brilliant sapphire blue, a beautiful shade that would make the gemstone jealous. And the other, her right, was a deep emerald green that reminded Renard of the English countryside. They were unique in the strongest sense of the word and familiar too.
The cold feeling dissipated within the few seconds it took for him to recognize her and was replaced with an unease he didn't like.
"Lily," he said before he could stop himself.
Her eyes narrowed and Renard noticed she was examining him the same as he had her. But, unlike him, it took her a few seconds longer to put the pieces together. When he saw a flash of anger, however, he knew she remembered.
"Sean." She greeted icily.
"You look good." He continued. He wasn't one for small talk and the discomfort he felt with it was evident to everyone.
"Thank you. You too, except," she paused and looked over his features. "You've a bit of blood." His brows furrowed slightly. "Just there," she said, pointing to his bottom lip.
Renard instinctively touched his lip. When he pulled his fingers back, they were clean. Before he could speak, he was blindsided. Lily reared back and launched her fist at his face. Knowing his jaw would likely break a few of the small bones in her hand; Lily clamped both hands together and brought the 'wrecking ball' they created across his jaw.
The crack was heard throughout the precinct. Renard stumbled to the side and fell into a nearby desk. He was dazed from the intense –and surprising- hit. Within seconds, officers swarmed the young woman who assaulted their Captain and quickly restrained her. It felt like all of them were attempting to handcuff her at the same time, shuffling her from side to side without regard to whether or not she'd fall, but she didn't care. She kept her two-toned eyes strictly on Renard.
As she was shoved towards the door, he looked up still clutching his now bleeding lip. He saw fire burning through her stare.
"Good seein' you again, Sean." She said derisively before disappearing through the door and into the hall.
Shaking the room back into focus, Renard stood and headed for his office despite the stares he gathered from his officers. He ignored their gawking looks and the questions they would have as he closed his doors, effectively telling them all not to bother asking. He moved at a normal pace to prove he hadn't been as surprised by the hit as he was, and set his things down.
Renard looked around his room before finding a box of Kleenex in his desk. He pulled them out and began dabbing them against his split lip. Part of him briefly wondered if she'd cracked a tooth in the process.
As he pressed the disposable napkin to his lip, Renard habitually ran his tongue along the inside of his lip. He didn't know why he did it, only that he did whenever his lip was injured. It was along the same lines of running the tip of your tongue through the vacant slot a tooth once sat. Same principal.
He dabbed the wound repeatedly and took count of how long it bled before needing another Kleenex. It was on his second one that there was a knock on his door. He glanced up –still pressing the white square to his lip- and noticed a concerned Nick looking in at him. With a reluctant wave, Renard beckoned the Grimm into the room.
Nick slipped into the room easily and closed the door quickly behind him.
"You okay?" he asked. He'd been there to witness the altercation moments before.
"Fine." Renard replied shortly. He pulled the square away again and checked the status of the wound. It had almost stopped bleeding. "It's fine."
"Who was she?"
Renard didn't immediately offer an answer. Instead, he seemed to slip into his own thoughts. He remembered things he'd never share with another person. After a few moments of recollection, he gathered himself enough to speak.
"Old family acquaintance." He replied vaguely.
Nick didn't press. He knew enough about Renard's family history to know he didn't really want to hear anymore.
Aware he wasn't going to press any further, Nick said his farewell to the Captain and slipped back into the main bull-pen.
Near the end of his work day, after finishing more pressing business, the dauntingly tall man in the well tailored suit made his way into the bottom level of the building, to the holding cells.
He took casual steps into bowels of the basement where they held people who were either going to stay the night or were on their way to the main prison. Lily had been set in the cell closest to the door. She was sitting on her bed with her back to the wall humming something to herself to help pass the time. When she heard the clicking of shoes against the concrete floor she shifted enough to see if she was going to be fed. Her features darkened when presented with the Captain.
Renard didn't immediately speak. Instead, he stepped deeper into the room and took a stance against a wall. He leaned against the cinderblock surface with his hands in his pockets and a look of supreme uncaring on his face. If there was a master of blank expressions, he was taught by Sean Renard. Even people who knew the man didn't know how to read him.
The two stared at one another without speaking despite volumes needing to be explained. Eventually, Lily sighed and went back to resting her head against her wall and humming. Renard cocked a single brow.
"What are you doing here?" he finally asked. He'd hoped she would initiate conversation, but she clearly wasn't going to.
"Enjoying my stay in this wonderful facility." She told him evenly.
"I meant in Portland."
"I know what you meant." She said. "And it's none of your concern."
"Isn't it?" he dared. She rolled her head towards him again.
"No." she quipped simply. "Now, are you going to let me out of here, or not?"
"I haven't decided."
"We both know that's a lie. You wouldn't have come down here without first deciding." She told him. "Now, be a good boy and open the door."
"Insults aren't a good way to get ahead in this situation." He said. While he spoke casually, there was clear warning in his voice. "You did just assault the Captain of this precinct, after all."
Without warning Lily laughed. She laughed loudly and jovially. It was more disarming than the anger and violence. At least part of Renard expected that, but not the laughing. As it was, she seemed to enjoy his statement for longer than he would've like before she looked to him again.
"Are you serious?" she laughed again. "You're the one in charge?" he said nothing and remained cold towards her. "I wonder what people here would think if they knew they were taking orders from something like you?"
"And what am I?" he dared.
Her face turned angry again.
"A traitor." She hissed through her teeth.
Renard took a deep breath and sighed. His brows twitched together lightly, but the action was so slight it was possible no one would have noticed it. It was the most he could muster when he felt pity for someone.
Shaking his head to himself, Renard stepped forward. He pulled his hands from his pockets. Clutched within his right fist were the keys to her cell. Lily watched from her spot as he unlocked the door and let it swing open. She didn't move.
"Come on." He said.
"You're releasing me?" she asked. He nodded.
Without question, Lily stood and stepped skeptically towards the Captain. Renard did little more than step to the side and let her leave. She glanced at him in passing. She began down the hall and heard the door clang shut behind her. A second later, a hand grabbed her arm. Renard spun her around and held firmly so his point would be understood.
"I don't want to see you in my office again." He told her sternly.
"Are you threatening me, Sean?" she asked without fear.
"A warning." He clarified.
She scoffed and wrenched her arm from his grasp. She glared up at him with hate filling her unusual eyes.
"Don't ever touch me again." She told him darkly. Lily turned her back on Renard and headed for the exit. Before leaving, she yelled over her shoulder. "And don't worry. You won't see me here again." She opened the door and looked at him briefly. "Your officers won't be around to save you next time."
Without another word, Lily left. Renard let his shoulders slump when she was gone. She was going to be added aggravation that he didn't need at the moment.