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AU THREE SENTENCE MEME, RPF AND OTHERWISE: Give me multiple pairings. Give me an AU setting. I will write you a three-sentence fic.There's a Scared Straight marathon on right now and I need to peel my gaze away. I'd go and read about mobsters and the nuclear apocalypse, but my roommate is having the rest of her meltdown right now. And on Web MD
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the good, the bad, and the just plain ghastly
The rumor is that he steals her right out of Organized Crime. She was undercover for two years and it was a scotch and a few files that took him through the career of an agent that just had no business being in the OC because it was such a waste. He learns five key facts about her then too: she's patient, she's too good with getting under people's skin, her dad lives in Ohio, she almost went to Paris, and she's killed a man, two shots, one to kill him, the second to make sure he's dead.
So she's on his team then and gets along with Finn, since everybody gets a long with Finn, and writes herself into Santana's favor because they're old friends and they mutually hate Chuckie, as everybody mutually hates Chuckie if he's not doing his job. There's a serial killer taking them down to the Glades, her fourth case in, and Rachel ends up with him in a little motel, pretending to be a couple, because the guy gets off on slitting throats in twos.
They have to make this believable though.
"It's so hot," she moans softly and he's pressing her against a way, sliding a hand under her dress to make sure he's got permission. His fingers graze her panties and she's turning a smile, both lazy and amused because Rachel seems to know how to catch him especially off-guard. She rolls her hips forward, just a little, and Chuckie's laughing in his ear, saying that their guy's coming down the street with another two players to the game. But he's trying not to think about how, god, how pretty Rachel is like this, skin slick with sweat and basically, almost fucking herself over his fingers. He presses them a little harder against her panties and she's nipping at his lip, just as they hear the voice get louder as they come up the stairs.
You don't need to know what happens next. Will shoots him in the head.
(He gets an award when they get back to DC because he knows how to play politics and it keeps his team together. It's just that when the six case together comes around and Rachel's got a tooth brush at his place, and he learns something else about her: he calls her baby when they fuck.)
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The truth is Finn meets her first. To get out of Ohio, Rachel goes to Columbia not Juilliard and the fact that she can sing remains as a dirty, little secret as she pays her student loans off by bartending and her French. It’s not easy, but a part of it is that she’s not speaking to her dad and works through asking for help as best as she can.
She’s young but she’s sharp and she remembers his party when he comes stumbling into the bar, mid-morning and full of apologies as he asks about his identification and, maybe, if she’s like seen one of his friend’s too. It makes her laugh.
“Sure,” she says. “You were the third whiskey and he was - ” she turns, digging through the basket of IDs by the glasses. “ - he was gone by the time he got to his second Sam Adams, which is rather sad, really. But he’s the one getting married, after all.”
He laughs nervously and she hands over both drivers’ licenses, catching the flash from his badge inside his coat. It’s the weird, little angle when he turns and it’s almost too good to be true when her brain shifts from cop to Fed in just a span of a couple seconds.
But it’s really what he says that sticks with her, really sticks with her in a way that things haven’t what feels like forever. She remembers. “You’re good,” he says.
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