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Fic! Long-ago asked-for fic!
Eons ago, sardonicynic gave me the prompt: Lanie-Beckett-Kate Warner; girls' night out; "Now we're going to have some fun."
GIRLS' NIGHT OUT
Kate glanced around the room heaving with bodies from her vantage point at the raised bar. The band was playing some instrumental rock tune; not one she recognized, though she couldn't be sure whether that was because this world wasn't her own, or because she just hadn't heard the band before.
She leaned closer to Beckett, who was trying to flag down a bartender. "Lot of women here tonight," Kate said, raising her voice over the din.
Beckett's friend Lanie grinned. "That's why they call it Girlstown--one place you can go to have a drink with friends without getting hit on by some drunken asshole."
"That and a couple other reasons, but basically, yeah," Beckett said with a quick, sparkling glance at Lanie before finally getting a bartender's attention, preventing Kate from asking just what she meant.
Cosmos and mojitos finally in hand, Beckett pointed toward one of the tables near a secondary stage where the crowd was thinner, most of those in the club flocking to the dance floor or the bar itself.
Kate took a sip of her cosmo, slipping her feet out of her high heels. So far her bachelorette party was going great, but the fun they'd been having didn't completely outweigh the ache in her arches.
"Having fun?" Beckett asked, as if reading Kate's mind.
"Yeah. I haven't done something like this in ages." Actually she couldn't remember when the last time was she'd had a not-so-wild night out with the girls. She'd been trying to take care of things for Marie and her Dad for so long, then after things had fallen apart, after Marie had been charged, convicted of treason, most of the friends she had--more like good acquaintances, really--had faded away. "Thanks so much for putting all this together for me."
Lanie grinned. "Don't thank her too much. It gives her and excuse to get out and do something for once."
"This coming from someone who's around dead people all day?" Beckett said with the ease of a familiar argument.
"And at night I'm very much among the living."
Beckett opened her mouth to answer when the band hit a final chord and the stage next to them lit up. A blonde woman with mile-long legs walked out, Marilyn-Monroe-inspired red dress fluttering around her.
"Good evening ladies! It's time for our main event!" she said, waiting a beat for the roar of the crowd. "First, let's all give a warm, enthusiastic welcome to one of our boys in blue, Officer Brett!"
A black curtain behind her lifted, and Kate caught sight of Officer Brett, who was tall, dark haired, and whose skin-tight shirt and short shorts definitely were not NYPD regulation.
Kate turned to Beckett, horror and embarassment making her face feel hot. "Kate! I told you no strippers!"
Beckett grinned. "If I remember correctly, you said I couldn't hire a stripper, Kate."
"Now we're going to have some fun," Lanie said, sipping her cosmopolitan.
Kate gaped for a moment, not sure what to say as Officer Brett gyrated his way to the front of the stage. Then she did the only thing she could do; she threw her head back and laughed.
And then marinw gave me the prompt "Jack and Renee's Private Detective Agency".
STAKEOUT
A passing siren brought Renee out of sleep with a start, her hand reaching for a holster that was no longer on her hip. Even now, more than two years after leaving the FBI, she couldn't quite break the habit.
"It's nothing, go back to sleep," Jack said from the driver's seat, lowering his binoculars to rub the bridge of his nose.
"You look like you're the one that needs the sleep," Renee said, picking up her travel mug. She took a sip, made a face. Tepid coffee wasn't exactly what she wanted after a nap.
"See anything?" she asked, habit, though she knew if he had he would have woken her.
"Nothing yet." Jack sat as stock-still as he had before she'd fallen asleep. Over the last six months, that was one of the things that had surprised her: how he could go from a whirlwind of action to perfect stillness at a moment's notice.
Sometimes, being with Jack was like being in the eye of a hurricane; stillness waiting for the turbulence to come. Only with him it was the stillness that lasted, the turbulence that blew over quickly.
She held out her hand for the binoculars. "Hand 'em over. Your turn to get some sleep."
"I'm good." Same question on every stakeout, same response. It gave a feeling of routine to the proceedings, but not an unwelcome one. One of those old-married-couple exchanges; a give and take that made their relationship--professional and personal--work. Stakeouts and sentry duty couldn't put as much of a strain on a relationship when they did it together, and with both their names on the masthead at Walker and Bauer Security and Investigations the scut work was equally their responsibility.
Not most couples' idea of bonding time, sitting in a car all night, making sure nothing moved outside a client's house or business, but then they weren't most couples.
"I'll do it if you answer one question," Jack said after a moment's quiet, not moving.
"Yeah?"
"What're you wearing tomorrow?" His tone was deadpan, but she could see the twinkle in his eyes as he lowered the binoculars and glanced at her.
"Wouldn't you like to know." With their clientele--thanks to their connections and respective resumes--attending fancy events was fairly common, and Jack had seen her in--and taken her out of--every dress she had for the occasion. That didn't mean she wasn't going to tease him with an air of mystery, and it didn't mean he didn't enjoy it.
Jack dropped the binoculars in her hand. "Wake me in an hour, if nothing comes up."
"Sure," she said. He knew it would be more like two or three, she knew he'd grumble about her not doing as he'd asked. Eventually, providing nothing happened, they're go home, curl up in bed for a few hours while Chloe manned the office. Routine, expected, in the best way possible; same questions, same response. Old married couple.
Renee smiled slightly to herself as she scanned the street with the binoculars. Well, one out of three wasn't bad for the moment.
Eons ago, sardonicynic gave me the prompt: Lanie-Beckett-Kate Warner; girls' night out; "Now we're going to have some fun."
GIRLS' NIGHT OUT
Kate glanced around the room heaving with bodies from her vantage point at the raised bar. The band was playing some instrumental rock tune; not one she recognized, though she couldn't be sure whether that was because this world wasn't her own, or because she just hadn't heard the band before.
She leaned closer to Beckett, who was trying to flag down a bartender. "Lot of women here tonight," Kate said, raising her voice over the din.
Beckett's friend Lanie grinned. "That's why they call it Girlstown--one place you can go to have a drink with friends without getting hit on by some drunken asshole."
"That and a couple other reasons, but basically, yeah," Beckett said with a quick, sparkling glance at Lanie before finally getting a bartender's attention, preventing Kate from asking just what she meant.
Cosmos and mojitos finally in hand, Beckett pointed toward one of the tables near a secondary stage where the crowd was thinner, most of those in the club flocking to the dance floor or the bar itself.
Kate took a sip of her cosmo, slipping her feet out of her high heels. So far her bachelorette party was going great, but the fun they'd been having didn't completely outweigh the ache in her arches.
"Having fun?" Beckett asked, as if reading Kate's mind.
"Yeah. I haven't done something like this in ages." Actually she couldn't remember when the last time was she'd had a not-so-wild night out with the girls. She'd been trying to take care of things for Marie and her Dad for so long, then after things had fallen apart, after Marie had been charged, convicted of treason, most of the friends she had--more like good acquaintances, really--had faded away. "Thanks so much for putting all this together for me."
Lanie grinned. "Don't thank her too much. It gives her and excuse to get out and do something for once."
"This coming from someone who's around dead people all day?" Beckett said with the ease of a familiar argument.
"And at night I'm very much among the living."
Beckett opened her mouth to answer when the band hit a final chord and the stage next to them lit up. A blonde woman with mile-long legs walked out, Marilyn-Monroe-inspired red dress fluttering around her.
"Good evening ladies! It's time for our main event!" she said, waiting a beat for the roar of the crowd. "First, let's all give a warm, enthusiastic welcome to one of our boys in blue, Officer Brett!"
A black curtain behind her lifted, and Kate caught sight of Officer Brett, who was tall, dark haired, and whose skin-tight shirt and short shorts definitely were not NYPD regulation.
Kate turned to Beckett, horror and embarassment making her face feel hot. "Kate! I told you no strippers!"
Beckett grinned. "If I remember correctly, you said I couldn't hire a stripper, Kate."
"Now we're going to have some fun," Lanie said, sipping her cosmopolitan.
Kate gaped for a moment, not sure what to say as Officer Brett gyrated his way to the front of the stage. Then she did the only thing she could do; she threw her head back and laughed.
And then marinw gave me the prompt "Jack and Renee's Private Detective Agency".
STAKEOUT
A passing siren brought Renee out of sleep with a start, her hand reaching for a holster that was no longer on her hip. Even now, more than two years after leaving the FBI, she couldn't quite break the habit.
"It's nothing, go back to sleep," Jack said from the driver's seat, lowering his binoculars to rub the bridge of his nose.
"You look like you're the one that needs the sleep," Renee said, picking up her travel mug. She took a sip, made a face. Tepid coffee wasn't exactly what she wanted after a nap.
"See anything?" she asked, habit, though she knew if he had he would have woken her.
"Nothing yet." Jack sat as stock-still as he had before she'd fallen asleep. Over the last six months, that was one of the things that had surprised her: how he could go from a whirlwind of action to perfect stillness at a moment's notice.
Sometimes, being with Jack was like being in the eye of a hurricane; stillness waiting for the turbulence to come. Only with him it was the stillness that lasted, the turbulence that blew over quickly.
She held out her hand for the binoculars. "Hand 'em over. Your turn to get some sleep."
"I'm good." Same question on every stakeout, same response. It gave a feeling of routine to the proceedings, but not an unwelcome one. One of those old-married-couple exchanges; a give and take that made their relationship--professional and personal--work. Stakeouts and sentry duty couldn't put as much of a strain on a relationship when they did it together, and with both their names on the masthead at Walker and Bauer Security and Investigations the scut work was equally their responsibility.
Not most couples' idea of bonding time, sitting in a car all night, making sure nothing moved outside a client's house or business, but then they weren't most couples.
"I'll do it if you answer one question," Jack said after a moment's quiet, not moving.
"Yeah?"
"What're you wearing tomorrow?" His tone was deadpan, but she could see the twinkle in his eyes as he lowered the binoculars and glanced at her.
"Wouldn't you like to know." With their clientele--thanks to their connections and respective resumes--attending fancy events was fairly common, and Jack had seen her in--and taken her out of--every dress she had for the occasion. That didn't mean she wasn't going to tease him with an air of mystery, and it didn't mean he didn't enjoy it.
Jack dropped the binoculars in her hand. "Wake me in an hour, if nothing comes up."
"Sure," she said. He knew it would be more like two or three, she knew he'd grumble about her not doing as he'd asked. Eventually, providing nothing happened, they're go home, curl up in bed for a few hours while Chloe manned the office. Routine, expected, in the best way possible; same questions, same response. Old married couple.
Renee smiled slightly to herself as she scanned the street with the binoculars. Well, one out of three wasn't bad for the moment.