(no subject)
Characters: Tristan (ofmisadventure) & Morgan (ofninefaie)
Date/Time: 23 June, late morning
Location: Campo dei Fiori, Rome
Rating: Medium for violence
Warnings: See above.
Summary: Ex appears. Knight does knight thing. Everyone gets jailed.
It was so good to be back in Rome. Morgan would leave a thousand times, cross the world a couple more and she would still come back and call that place her home. Of course, it was slightly different now that her memories had returned; speaking of the empire that had once dwelled there, filling her with the emotions attached to their once enemies. Still, this was another life, another era. Diva co-existed with Morgan and her roots were deep in the city.
Her mother hadn’t even tried to stop her. The second they had had their business over and done with - meetings undertaken, people to visit, her father’s grave to pay respects to - Amalia had left her to her own devices. It explained why Morgan was by herself, walking down the streets with the abandon of someone who clearly had no defined destiny in mind. Maybe a couple of friends to hang out with, they had said they would call. Window shopping was fine and dandy until then.
Only, being in the place where she had spent way too much time of her life also meant meeting those she didn’t want to. Like the man in front of her. Matthew hadn’t changed much, physically wise. By the way he spoke, determined and forceful, the psychological profile wouldn’t be too different either. Now, it annoyed her. Back then, Morgan had been besotted enough to ignore these details, to focus on the flowers on her desk, the small figurines he did for her, the arm around her shoulders when they walked together. Ignored the constrictions. Where she was, with whom, when, how could she do it without him. She had never enjoyed cages, especially those of her own making.
“Come on. Let’s just have a coffee. Old times’ sakes, yes?” God above, no. Morgan pasted the fakest smile on her face and shook her head. Just. No. Hundred times no. She had fallen down that pit once and swore never to bother again.
“I got to meet my mom. You know how she goes.” A little white lie. If she had been able to lie to much scarier men than him, this was nothing more than a bump in the road. Or would have been.
Matthew hadn’t bothered with listening to her answer. And, while he had been forceful in the past, it had been more like a stalker, never physical. Which was why the hand gripping her arm came as an unappreciated surprise. It also explained why her first reaction was not to order him to stand down but to try and free her arm, raising her voice in the process.
“What the hell are you doing?”
The vacation was an excellent plan, in part that he did not have to stand by the boss’ side every minute of every hour. Out on the streets, his conversational Italian was getting a work-out and he did feel his face was starting to ache from all the smiling he had been doing. And from the pinching he was receiving. Little old ladies were pinching and patting his face, saying things he only could catch bits and pieces of but when the word ‘marry’ was picked up, he had smoothly made his departure. Whether it was well-wishing or their hopes to select a nice granddaughter for him, it was better to not explore that avenue yet.
But if there was ever a moment that a knight should always pick up on, it was trouble. Whether it was a man or woman distressed, a knight had to be on his guard, had to be ready to go into action. The familiar voice caught his attention (demanded it, really) and he had hardly noticed when he had turned and walked toward where Morgan was with...
His jaw tightened at the sight of her arm trapped, his very first thought demanding he smash in the bastard’s nose. But he did not (not yet) and stepped in closer, his fists already clenched and ready to show the other how wrong his treatment of her was. “What the hell is going on?”
Goddamnit, he wasn’t like this. He could have turned actually insane while she had been away. Those thoughts slipped through her thoughts without making a dent because, she was otherwise engaged in trying to rip her arm from his hold. Goddamned bastard. Wasn’t it enough that she had stuck by him before?
And that was exactly when Tristan showed up. Out of nowhere, like some sort of knight in shining armor. The cliché would have made her laugh herself silly in any other moment. This time, she just allowed relief to flow through her, calming. This was one of Arthur’s knights. This was her friend. And why wasn’t she defending herself properly anyway?
“Nothing to do with you. Friendly chat between a couple. Scoot.” Morgan recognized that look on Mathew’s face though. It was the look that preceded yelling at some colleague from her college or herself, what she was doing, losing time with someone, god, how could she have a life?
“Couple?” That word hit strongly though, strong enough to rip her from her surprise. “Are you absolutely insane? We’re through. Over. Have been for ages now. Get that through your skull already.” One would think no returning calls or emails would be a huge hint. Morgan almost sneered at him, disgusted at how none of her words seemed to filter through. “And damnit, let go off me.” And ripped her arm from his hold, even if hurting herself in the process. God. She felt like taking a shower.
Pathetically, she took a step back immediately, addressing Tristan in one fluid action. “Sorry I’m late, Tony. I was held up.” By the love of God, bite and give me a reason to leave now.
Her former boyfriend’s eyes narrowed even further, trailing up and down the new arrival under a new light.
A less incensed Tristan would have give her that reason but the moment she had to yank away herself from the other fellow, he only saw more of a reason to teach her ex a lesson in how to treat women.
“I’ve seen friendlier people after a soccer game.” A glance was then shot at Morgan, a thin smile in place. He was far too tense and it was taking everything to not just slug the man that second. “Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing to worry about now. In fact, I’m going to make sure there’s not going to be another problem like this in the future.”
That said, he reached to grab the other, the intent to give him a good shake, to feed him words that would have him steer well clear of Morgan for the rest of his life. Men like him didn’t deserve to feel safe or free as far as Tristan cared. Too many times had he heard or witnessed someone toss their weight around.
Morgan was the last person who deserved problems like this. His hand curled hard around the fabric of the bastard’s shirt. He was more the liable to strangle him still. His anger laced his words, his voice low enough for just the three of them. “I swear, if I ever see you even look her way, if I ever hear that you spoke her name, I will find you and I will be the last person you see. And no one will find you. You will be forgotten and dismissed. Is that clear?”
The woman wouldn’t usually accept violence as a way to get things through but let’s face it, Matthew hadn’t exactly endeared himself to her at all in the last minutes. She was just about to say something - probably like he’s an idiot and can’t think two intelligent thoughts together - in order to attempt to difuse the situation but. Tristan was too fast, too furious and it was hard to be the logical one when she was inwardly cheerleading.
“The hell’s your problem, man?” It was clear Matthew wasn’t used to be faced like this, with violence in answer to his own. His face paled, his teeth clenched and Morgan could almost bet on what he was thinking. She usually could do that. Why was this man intervening, everything was fine. He just wanted to talk. Funny how he lied even to himself. “Look, she and I go way back. Didn’t do anything wrong here.”
And he would have said more had Tristan not been that physical. That serious. There was something different about being stared by a guy twice his size than staring a girl a good inches smaller. Coward, Morgan added almost viciously. Coward. Behind her, someone was calling the cops. She could hear the whispers, people running and getting out of the way.
“Tony.” She didn’t care what Matthew did or where he ended up. It was just that this wouldn’t look well to an outsider. “Let him go.” Her hand touched his shoulder in a silent request. She could almost see the blue uniforms approaching from her standing point. “Please. It’s okay. People are watching.”
“See? Even she agrees.” Yeah. Great going, Matty. One more comment and she would enter the fray instead of playing helpless.
“Going “way back” doesn’t mean you can treat her any way you like,” he growled out, now giving him a hard shake for emphasis, because he was sure hitting him would not just stop at one blow. But he knew deep down it would happen. “She’s a woman and she definitely doesn’t give a good goddamn about you. Get it through your skull or I will have to help.”
And while those around them were worrying, concerning themselves a bit too much, outsiders were not on his usually rational mind. For Tristan, there was only Morgan and the cocky prick, a prick that needed to have a bloody mouth before he was through with him. Her hand, however, did bring him down slightly, did have his shoulders tense less. He did hear her, did grasp she didn’t want it to escalate. Alright...alright, Tristan. Just let go. And he would have.
Until his target spoke again. Masculine pride begged for it as well as a need to see justice was done, that a message was delivered. His fingers untangled themselves from the other man’s shirt and he smiled, almost kindly. Even brushed off the man’s shirt a bit.
And then he stuck dear Matthew (though that name was not known him), caught him so well and hard enough on the nose he heard that gratifying crunch. And he grasped the other man by his shirt before seeing him go down and brought his mouth down near his ear.
“She agreed for me.”
And then he dropped him.
Okaay. That would be definitely one for the record books. Morgan had expected him to threaten, expected him to scare the living hell out of the other man but actually going through with the threat. With a hint of rubbing salt on the wound? Go Tristan. Forget paying him dinner, she would just reserve a five star hotel room and order everyone to treat him like a king for as long as necessary. Basically, until he got sick of it.
Of course, Matthew’s reaction was nothing similar. He fell like a sack of potatoes, groaning as a steady stream of blood squirted from his nose and dripped down his clothes. This hadn’t been what he had expected from a confrontation with Diva. A coffee, a small talk, make her see that he had done wrong and he had changed. Because he had, right? Instead, he had managed to screw it all up with a bunch of words and she had gotten. What the fuck was this guy anyway? Bodyguard?
“I’m going to get you for this, fucking bastard. Somehow.” Empty threats, any of the people around them could understand that. There was little way he would be able to beat the man unless he hired heavy muscle to replace him. Matthew wasn’t completely stupid though. Behind Morgan, he could see the cops coming closer and, while he was clearly the victim here, they would believe the girl. So he did what came naturally.
Jumped, turned tail and began running.
And, at the same time, Morgan understood just what was on her mind and the huge mess about to happen.
“Tristan, get out of here,” she hissed urgently, pushing his back towards whatever direction opposite to the policemen. “They’ll get whoever’s left, you need to leave.”
The push just almost cleared his mind, making the pleasing vision of Matthew in pain waver just a second. Yet her words didn’t sink in, not as fast as the idea of her ex getting away did. In fact, some little part of him interpreted her push as a ‘go get him’.
So he did do just that, darting right after Matthew, never looking back at Morgan, never seeing the police so close. His profession demanded fitness and he caught to the other man the only right way he could: by tackling him into the ground. Again, his ears were rewarded this time by the sound of Matthew’s body hitting the ground hard.
“You’re going to get me?” Tristan asked, his mouth near the bloodied man’s ear again. Then the knight hauled him up, shoved Matthew against a nearby wall, not releasing him just yet. “Get me now, you coward. Stand your ground like a man and get me now if you’re even capable of it. And if you can’t, you keep your worthless ass away from her.”
If she had had the time, Morgan would have smacked her forehead. She would have said nothing against Tristan’s actions, absolutely nothing at all. But now when the cops were staring at the scene and, very wrongly, taking their own conclusions. Ah man. She tried to slip on their way, call their attention in loud Italian and maybe, just maybe, Tristan would manage to weave through the crowd. All she said, however, wouldn’t be enough to erase the scene.
They were so screwed. And Arthur was going to say I told you so so many times, her ears would burn.
“Tristan, get away. Now, damnit.” Morgan didn’t even bother with his new name then. If she screamed this loud enough, perhaps he would listen and actually do what she was saying.
Only a shame Mattew couldn’t keep quiet. He raised himself painfully yet again, spitting the blood pooling on his mouth. What the hell was with this guy? He didn’t understand, nothing more than how pissed he was and that he was strong and that was bad for him. “Fine. Fine, just keep her. It’s not like I haven’t had her time enough. Besides, think she’s gonna stick around you? Ask for more and she’ll run away like a fucking cat. Damned bitch.” Even though Matthew clearly hadn’t learned any lesson bar ‘this guy is stronger than me, leave the chick’, it was probably a good thing that the nearby officer pushed him against the wall, handcuffing his arms on his back in one fluid movement. “Hey, I’m the bloody victim here.” The cop just gripped him tighter.
Tristan would be receiving a similar treatment by another officer.
It had been a very good thing that the police were now physically involved or someone would have had further injury to his body. He had moved to grab Matthew again when he felt himself meeting the well, the cold cuffs be put on him. If that wasn’t a proper jerk back to reality well...
Matthew was now ignored and was someone who, Tristan hoped, would end up in a cell with a bigger man than himself. And he hoped that Matthew would mouth off all the wrong things as usual and that he and his cell mate would become good friends after that. He didn’t struggle or attempt to jerk away from the officer. His boss was going to smack his forehead with his palm over this but it was worth it.
“I regret nothing,” he offered Morgan, smile in place while being hauled off. And then, because it was a bit important, to add on, “You might want to call my boss. To let him know where I am.”
Surely this could be managed. Surely. To be a knight again would be grand but maybe one should also desire the right setting, too. The modern world was not it.
Of course, he didn’t. Tristan was a knight through and through, of course he would see it as the right thing to do. Didn’t matter that he was about to be hauled away by something she should have done. Hell if she wouldn’t bail him out of this. Morgan paid no attention to Matthew she ran by him - for all she cared, he could drop dead at any point. Screw the past, he had lost any right to be in her presence, never mind make her bother - and stopped only to tap the shoulder of the cop pushing Tristan inside the car.
“One second, please. I just need his cellphone. So I can warn people not to worry. That is not a problem, is it?” And even before the man could understand what was going on, she was slipping partially inside the car to pat Tristan’s pockets for his cellphone. As soon as she found it, she gave a brisk nod and waved it casually in the air. “No worries. We’ll get you out in no time, okay?”
And then Morgan leaned in and peeked his cheek. “Don’t do anything heroic while inside, sweetie. I have to go sell my version of the story.” That said, she pushed back from the car - the policeman still staring at her as if he hadn’t understood where she had come from, never mind how she had passed by him - and began fiddling with the device.
In the other car, her ex still stared. Morgan stared at him back, allowing her expression to show exactly how much loathing she felt at the moment. A mouthed ‘fuck you’ would have surprised some. And then, they were done. The woman pressed the speed dial and waited until someone answered on the other side.
Date/Time: 23 June, late morning
Location: Campo dei Fiori, Rome
Rating: Medium for violence
Warnings: See above.
Summary: Ex appears. Knight does knight thing. Everyone gets jailed.
It was so good to be back in Rome. Morgan would leave a thousand times, cross the world a couple more and she would still come back and call that place her home. Of course, it was slightly different now that her memories had returned; speaking of the empire that had once dwelled there, filling her with the emotions attached to their once enemies. Still, this was another life, another era. Diva co-existed with Morgan and her roots were deep in the city.
Her mother hadn’t even tried to stop her. The second they had had their business over and done with - meetings undertaken, people to visit, her father’s grave to pay respects to - Amalia had left her to her own devices. It explained why Morgan was by herself, walking down the streets with the abandon of someone who clearly had no defined destiny in mind. Maybe a couple of friends to hang out with, they had said they would call. Window shopping was fine and dandy until then.
Only, being in the place where she had spent way too much time of her life also meant meeting those she didn’t want to. Like the man in front of her. Matthew hadn’t changed much, physically wise. By the way he spoke, determined and forceful, the psychological profile wouldn’t be too different either. Now, it annoyed her. Back then, Morgan had been besotted enough to ignore these details, to focus on the flowers on her desk, the small figurines he did for her, the arm around her shoulders when they walked together. Ignored the constrictions. Where she was, with whom, when, how could she do it without him. She had never enjoyed cages, especially those of her own making.
“Come on. Let’s just have a coffee. Old times’ sakes, yes?” God above, no. Morgan pasted the fakest smile on her face and shook her head. Just. No. Hundred times no. She had fallen down that pit once and swore never to bother again.
“I got to meet my mom. You know how she goes.” A little white lie. If she had been able to lie to much scarier men than him, this was nothing more than a bump in the road. Or would have been.
Matthew hadn’t bothered with listening to her answer. And, while he had been forceful in the past, it had been more like a stalker, never physical. Which was why the hand gripping her arm came as an unappreciated surprise. It also explained why her first reaction was not to order him to stand down but to try and free her arm, raising her voice in the process.
“What the hell are you doing?”
The vacation was an excellent plan, in part that he did not have to stand by the boss’ side every minute of every hour. Out on the streets, his conversational Italian was getting a work-out and he did feel his face was starting to ache from all the smiling he had been doing. And from the pinching he was receiving. Little old ladies were pinching and patting his face, saying things he only could catch bits and pieces of but when the word ‘marry’ was picked up, he had smoothly made his departure. Whether it was well-wishing or their hopes to select a nice granddaughter for him, it was better to not explore that avenue yet.
But if there was ever a moment that a knight should always pick up on, it was trouble. Whether it was a man or woman distressed, a knight had to be on his guard, had to be ready to go into action. The familiar voice caught his attention (demanded it, really) and he had hardly noticed when he had turned and walked toward where Morgan was with...
His jaw tightened at the sight of her arm trapped, his very first thought demanding he smash in the bastard’s nose. But he did not (not yet) and stepped in closer, his fists already clenched and ready to show the other how wrong his treatment of her was. “What the hell is going on?”
Goddamnit, he wasn’t like this. He could have turned actually insane while she had been away. Those thoughts slipped through her thoughts without making a dent because, she was otherwise engaged in trying to rip her arm from his hold. Goddamned bastard. Wasn’t it enough that she had stuck by him before?
And that was exactly when Tristan showed up. Out of nowhere, like some sort of knight in shining armor. The cliché would have made her laugh herself silly in any other moment. This time, she just allowed relief to flow through her, calming. This was one of Arthur’s knights. This was her friend. And why wasn’t she defending herself properly anyway?
“Nothing to do with you. Friendly chat between a couple. Scoot.” Morgan recognized that look on Mathew’s face though. It was the look that preceded yelling at some colleague from her college or herself, what she was doing, losing time with someone, god, how could she have a life?
“Couple?” That word hit strongly though, strong enough to rip her from her surprise. “Are you absolutely insane? We’re through. Over. Have been for ages now. Get that through your skull already.” One would think no returning calls or emails would be a huge hint. Morgan almost sneered at him, disgusted at how none of her words seemed to filter through. “And damnit, let go off me.” And ripped her arm from his hold, even if hurting herself in the process. God. She felt like taking a shower.
Pathetically, she took a step back immediately, addressing Tristan in one fluid action. “Sorry I’m late, Tony. I was held up.” By the love of God, bite and give me a reason to leave now.
Her former boyfriend’s eyes narrowed even further, trailing up and down the new arrival under a new light.
A less incensed Tristan would have give her that reason but the moment she had to yank away herself from the other fellow, he only saw more of a reason to teach her ex a lesson in how to treat women.
“I’ve seen friendlier people after a soccer game.” A glance was then shot at Morgan, a thin smile in place. He was far too tense and it was taking everything to not just slug the man that second. “Don’t worry about it. There’s nothing to worry about now. In fact, I’m going to make sure there’s not going to be another problem like this in the future.”
That said, he reached to grab the other, the intent to give him a good shake, to feed him words that would have him steer well clear of Morgan for the rest of his life. Men like him didn’t deserve to feel safe or free as far as Tristan cared. Too many times had he heard or witnessed someone toss their weight around.
Morgan was the last person who deserved problems like this. His hand curled hard around the fabric of the bastard’s shirt. He was more the liable to strangle him still. His anger laced his words, his voice low enough for just the three of them. “I swear, if I ever see you even look her way, if I ever hear that you spoke her name, I will find you and I will be the last person you see. And no one will find you. You will be forgotten and dismissed. Is that clear?”
The woman wouldn’t usually accept violence as a way to get things through but let’s face it, Matthew hadn’t exactly endeared himself to her at all in the last minutes. She was just about to say something - probably like he’s an idiot and can’t think two intelligent thoughts together - in order to attempt to difuse the situation but. Tristan was too fast, too furious and it was hard to be the logical one when she was inwardly cheerleading.
“The hell’s your problem, man?” It was clear Matthew wasn’t used to be faced like this, with violence in answer to his own. His face paled, his teeth clenched and Morgan could almost bet on what he was thinking. She usually could do that. Why was this man intervening, everything was fine. He just wanted to talk. Funny how he lied even to himself. “Look, she and I go way back. Didn’t do anything wrong here.”
And he would have said more had Tristan not been that physical. That serious. There was something different about being stared by a guy twice his size than staring a girl a good inches smaller. Coward, Morgan added almost viciously. Coward. Behind her, someone was calling the cops. She could hear the whispers, people running and getting out of the way.
“Tony.” She didn’t care what Matthew did or where he ended up. It was just that this wouldn’t look well to an outsider. “Let him go.” Her hand touched his shoulder in a silent request. She could almost see the blue uniforms approaching from her standing point. “Please. It’s okay. People are watching.”
“See? Even she agrees.” Yeah. Great going, Matty. One more comment and she would enter the fray instead of playing helpless.
“Going “way back” doesn’t mean you can treat her any way you like,” he growled out, now giving him a hard shake for emphasis, because he was sure hitting him would not just stop at one blow. But he knew deep down it would happen. “She’s a woman and she definitely doesn’t give a good goddamn about you. Get it through your skull or I will have to help.”
And while those around them were worrying, concerning themselves a bit too much, outsiders were not on his usually rational mind. For Tristan, there was only Morgan and the cocky prick, a prick that needed to have a bloody mouth before he was through with him. Her hand, however, did bring him down slightly, did have his shoulders tense less. He did hear her, did grasp she didn’t want it to escalate. Alright...alright, Tristan. Just let go. And he would have.
Until his target spoke again. Masculine pride begged for it as well as a need to see justice was done, that a message was delivered. His fingers untangled themselves from the other man’s shirt and he smiled, almost kindly. Even brushed off the man’s shirt a bit.
And then he stuck dear Matthew (though that name was not known him), caught him so well and hard enough on the nose he heard that gratifying crunch. And he grasped the other man by his shirt before seeing him go down and brought his mouth down near his ear.
“She agreed for me.”
And then he dropped him.
Okaay. That would be definitely one for the record books. Morgan had expected him to threaten, expected him to scare the living hell out of the other man but actually going through with the threat. With a hint of rubbing salt on the wound? Go Tristan. Forget paying him dinner, she would just reserve a five star hotel room and order everyone to treat him like a king for as long as necessary. Basically, until he got sick of it.
Of course, Matthew’s reaction was nothing similar. He fell like a sack of potatoes, groaning as a steady stream of blood squirted from his nose and dripped down his clothes. This hadn’t been what he had expected from a confrontation with Diva. A coffee, a small talk, make her see that he had done wrong and he had changed. Because he had, right? Instead, he had managed to screw it all up with a bunch of words and she had gotten. What the fuck was this guy anyway? Bodyguard?
“I’m going to get you for this, fucking bastard. Somehow.” Empty threats, any of the people around them could understand that. There was little way he would be able to beat the man unless he hired heavy muscle to replace him. Matthew wasn’t completely stupid though. Behind Morgan, he could see the cops coming closer and, while he was clearly the victim here, they would believe the girl. So he did what came naturally.
Jumped, turned tail and began running.
And, at the same time, Morgan understood just what was on her mind and the huge mess about to happen.
“Tristan, get out of here,” she hissed urgently, pushing his back towards whatever direction opposite to the policemen. “They’ll get whoever’s left, you need to leave.”
The push just almost cleared his mind, making the pleasing vision of Matthew in pain waver just a second. Yet her words didn’t sink in, not as fast as the idea of her ex getting away did. In fact, some little part of him interpreted her push as a ‘go get him’.
So he did do just that, darting right after Matthew, never looking back at Morgan, never seeing the police so close. His profession demanded fitness and he caught to the other man the only right way he could: by tackling him into the ground. Again, his ears were rewarded this time by the sound of Matthew’s body hitting the ground hard.
“You’re going to get me?” Tristan asked, his mouth near the bloodied man’s ear again. Then the knight hauled him up, shoved Matthew against a nearby wall, not releasing him just yet. “Get me now, you coward. Stand your ground like a man and get me now if you’re even capable of it. And if you can’t, you keep your worthless ass away from her.”
If she had had the time, Morgan would have smacked her forehead. She would have said nothing against Tristan’s actions, absolutely nothing at all. But now when the cops were staring at the scene and, very wrongly, taking their own conclusions. Ah man. She tried to slip on their way, call their attention in loud Italian and maybe, just maybe, Tristan would manage to weave through the crowd. All she said, however, wouldn’t be enough to erase the scene.
They were so screwed. And Arthur was going to say I told you so so many times, her ears would burn.
“Tristan, get away. Now, damnit.” Morgan didn’t even bother with his new name then. If she screamed this loud enough, perhaps he would listen and actually do what she was saying.
Only a shame Mattew couldn’t keep quiet. He raised himself painfully yet again, spitting the blood pooling on his mouth. What the hell was with this guy? He didn’t understand, nothing more than how pissed he was and that he was strong and that was bad for him. “Fine. Fine, just keep her. It’s not like I haven’t had her time enough. Besides, think she’s gonna stick around you? Ask for more and she’ll run away like a fucking cat. Damned bitch.” Even though Matthew clearly hadn’t learned any lesson bar ‘this guy is stronger than me, leave the chick’, it was probably a good thing that the nearby officer pushed him against the wall, handcuffing his arms on his back in one fluid movement. “Hey, I’m the bloody victim here.” The cop just gripped him tighter.
Tristan would be receiving a similar treatment by another officer.
It had been a very good thing that the police were now physically involved or someone would have had further injury to his body. He had moved to grab Matthew again when he felt himself meeting the well, the cold cuffs be put on him. If that wasn’t a proper jerk back to reality well...
Matthew was now ignored and was someone who, Tristan hoped, would end up in a cell with a bigger man than himself. And he hoped that Matthew would mouth off all the wrong things as usual and that he and his cell mate would become good friends after that. He didn’t struggle or attempt to jerk away from the officer. His boss was going to smack his forehead with his palm over this but it was worth it.
“I regret nothing,” he offered Morgan, smile in place while being hauled off. And then, because it was a bit important, to add on, “You might want to call my boss. To let him know where I am.”
Surely this could be managed. Surely. To be a knight again would be grand but maybe one should also desire the right setting, too. The modern world was not it.
Of course, he didn’t. Tristan was a knight through and through, of course he would see it as the right thing to do. Didn’t matter that he was about to be hauled away by something she should have done. Hell if she wouldn’t bail him out of this. Morgan paid no attention to Matthew she ran by him - for all she cared, he could drop dead at any point. Screw the past, he had lost any right to be in her presence, never mind make her bother - and stopped only to tap the shoulder of the cop pushing Tristan inside the car.
“One second, please. I just need his cellphone. So I can warn people not to worry. That is not a problem, is it?” And even before the man could understand what was going on, she was slipping partially inside the car to pat Tristan’s pockets for his cellphone. As soon as she found it, she gave a brisk nod and waved it casually in the air. “No worries. We’ll get you out in no time, okay?”
And then Morgan leaned in and peeked his cheek. “Don’t do anything heroic while inside, sweetie. I have to go sell my version of the story.” That said, she pushed back from the car - the policeman still staring at her as if he hadn’t understood where she had come from, never mind how she had passed by him - and began fiddling with the device.
In the other car, her ex still stared. Morgan stared at him back, allowing her expression to show exactly how much loathing she felt at the moment. A mouthed ‘fuck you’ would have surprised some. And then, they were done. The woman pressed the speed dial and waited until someone answered on the other side.