Chocolate #26, Cinnamon Raisin #19, Fruit Salad #23
Author: winebabe
Title: Into the Unknown
Story: The Gemini Occurrence ( Kingdom of Second Chances #4)
Rating: PG-13
Flavor(s): Chocolate #26: nostalgia; Cinnamon Raisin #19: revenge is a dish best served cold; Fruit Salad #23: cream of the crop;
Topping(s): Caramel, Sprinkles
Word Count: 2504
Summary: November, Week 2, 2028. With the plan in motion, the charges against Mona are dropped.
Notes: Mona Lively, Detective Katharine Chastain, Detective Noel Reyes, Detective Leah Grant, ADA Laurent Marion, Captain Charles Meyer. (AN: For some reason, it won't let me tag Fruit Salad? So I guess that one's not being tagged.)
When the captain finally sits Mona down on the other side of his large, coffee-stained desk and tells her they're dropping the charges against her and she can go home, she breathes a sigh of relief. She's been stuck in the precinct for nearly 48 hours by then, having to sleep on the couch in the interview room while the detectives figure out what to do about the fact that they brought her in with enough drugs to get the whole police station high for the duration of her stay. She's finally formally introduced to Laurent Marion, the Assistant District Attorney, who begins his introduction by telling her he had been looking forward to prosecuting her.
All she wants to do at that point is leave. The only detective she likes is the woman, who insists she calls her Kat. Detective Reyes, though he may fit the bill for 'tall, dark, and handsome' is a little too intense for her tastes, and the ADA is hawkish, sarcastic, and seemingly chronically unhappy. The captain treats her gently, and for that she's grateful, but she knows that most of them still look at her like she's a pawn in a bigger game, not as a victim.
Mona doesn't think she actually wants to be thought of as a victim, though.
Before she leaves the station, she calls Mario and tells him the sob story she and Detective Chastain cooked up. "They arrested me because I was there with all the drugs!" she cries into her cellphone, while the detectives and ADA Marion all sit in, listening. "I thought I was going to prison, Mario!"
"I wouldn't let that happen, baby," Mario says, and he does sound sympathetic. "So what happened? You're out?"
"I played up this story about how I was just going to the hotel to work, and the guy got rough with me and left me alone in his room. They think I'm a prostitute but it worked. I picked some random out of a line-up and they charged him."
Laurent grins and leans over toward Kat. "Get this girl on TV," he whispers and Kat smacks his arm.
"I don't care about what happened anymore, I just wanna come home. I have to go to counseling though, twice a week for a few months or something. That was my deal so they wouldn't charge me with prostitution. This one lady cop was acting like she really cares about me or something. She said counseling would be good for me."
"Alright, whatever," Mario says. "Are you on your way back? I can't come get you."
"It's fine, I'm walking," Mona answers. "I'll see you soon, okay? I'm sorry about all this."
"It's okay, baby. It's not your fault."
After Mario hangs up, Mona scowls at the phone in her hand and whispers, "No, it's not my fault, it's yours."
"Mona," Kat says and places a hand on her shoulder, "you did great."
"You're a natural," Laurent announces, clapping his hands. "You'll get through this just fine."
"A natural," Mona says and laughs.
"Do you think he'll follow you to your 'counseling' appointments," Noel asks. "Because we may have to find another place to meet. We don't want him to know where you're actually going."
"No," Mona replies, shaking her head. "He won't care. One time, I tried to talk to him about my feelings, and he left the room while I was in the middle of talking. All I have to do is say how helpful counseling is going, and he'll want to wipe the whole thing from his mind."
"Even so," Captain Meyer says, "we should probably decide on an alternate place to meet. Having you show up at the police station every week isn't the best idea."
"A coffee shop, then," Laurent suggests. "It's inconspicuous enough. If the detectives wear plainclothes it should be fine."
"Won't more than one person be suspicious, too?" Mona asks.
"Smart girl," Captain Meyer smiles. "Say it's group therapy. There are ways of making our detectives look a little more...troubled than they are."
Mona laughs. "You mean, you're going to make them up like prostitutes and drug addicts."
"I volunteer to be a male prostitute," Noel says, raising his hand. "And you can be my pimp, Counselor."
"Oh, God," Laurent groans, "please, leave me out of your stupid fantasies. I have work to do; good luck, Miss Lively." He reaches across the table to shake her hand, clasping his other over the top in a decidedly compassionate gesture.
"Marion is right. You should be heading back before Mario gets suspicious. We'll see you in a few days to get everything in motion." Captain Meyer also rises from the table, and follows Laurent out of the interview room.
"And don't forget," Kat says, tapping her finger next to Mona's phone, "you have my number, so text or call if you need anything. I'm always here, okay?"
"Thank you, so much," Mona replies, misty eyed, as Kat reaches out to give her hand a squeeze.
"We've got your back," Noel assures her. "You're one of ours now."
Mona knows he means that she's an honorary member of their squad, for the time being, but she can't help feeling that, in a way, the NYPD owns her.
Laurent does, in fact, have work to do; there are five cases up for trial that week, and among his regular duties, he has witnesses to prep, questions to write, and all this on top of trying to work around a rather unorthodox NYPD plan. It's tiring, he thinks, trying to juggle everything. Normally, he feels energized, high on the pressure. It's part of why he works so well as a prosecutor. The righteous anger he feels for his victims serves to fuel the fire he brings in the courtroom. His passion is only overshadowed by his stubbornness, a trait that anyone who has worked with him knows well. Laurent Marion doesn't take no for an answer if he needs that answer to be yes. He doesn't sleep if there are loose ends to tie up in his cases. He doesn't give up after mistrials, and he sure as hell doesn't listen to threats of any kind.
He doesn't pretend to be a good man, though. Like everyone, he has vices. He has sinned. He knows that he can ruin--and he has. It's why he butts heads with Detective Reyes, breaks off intimate moments with Detective Chastain, and can't stand to be in the room with Captain Meyer one minute longer than he needs to.
It's why he brings up Detective Moeller's name. He wants himself to suffer. He's a masochist, fighting against the pain and suffering of others but inviting it into his life with open arms.
It's only too easy to use his work as an instrument of torture. Captain Meyer could have called Detective Grant in with no qualms from him, because Grant is qualified. She's good, and she's smart, and he figures that Mona would be much more comfortable with a female officer, anyway. But he called before he thought better of it, and then he couldn't back out. It would have saved him a lot of time, time that he's wasted rehashing the past instead of working.
The phone on his desk beeps, and Laurent knows what's coming before he even lifts the receiver. "Yes, Audrey?"
"Captain Meyer is on the phone," Audrey says, and he can hear her typing even as she speaks to him. The girl's young, but she's good. "Are you available, or should I take a message?"
"It's fine, Audrey. I'll talk to him."
"Line one, sir," Audrey says, and sets the receiver back down.
Laurent waits a moment before he presses the button below the flashing red light. "Yes, Captain Meyer?"
"I called Moeller. He's flying in at the end of the week." There is a pause on both ends of the line while Captain Meyer waits for a response, and Laurent tries to collect his thoughts. "Are you going to be alright?" he asks finally.
"Charles," Laurent starts, choking halfway through his name, and Captain Meyer interrupts him.
"I have to go, Counselor. I'll check back in later?" It sounds like a question, is phrased like a question, but Laurent knows better. There is no other option; Captain Meyer hasn't forgotten what happened, and he isn't going to let anything slide.
"Fine. Goodbye, Captain Meyer." Laurent hangs up quickly, just in case, unwilling to give Captain Meyer any further excuse to lecture him. Detective Moeller is flying in at the end of the week, and Laurent still has work to do.
The first thing Mona does when she gets back to the apartment is wash the dishes. They need to be done; they must have been sitting there, waiting for her, ever since she'd been arrested. Mario likes the apartment kept at a certain level of cleanliness, but is unwilling to do the work himself. Mona knows some of his history, that he grew up poor, and she can't help but wonder where his entitled attitude comes from.
He's home when she gets in, but she can hear him talking to someone in the other room and chooses not to disturb him. It isn't the first time she's been on edge with him, but her heart pounds erratically in her chest. She's terrified he'll know her secret already. She's terrified he's already plotting against her.
Detective Chastain's personal cell number is in her phone, under the name 'Kat,' and all Mona can think about is texting her. She doesn't though, because she doesn't want Mario to catch her. And she doesn't want to worry Kat.
Nothing happens, though. The night is quiet. Mario wants fast food for dinner, and they curl up in bed and watch Netflix after. Mario puts his arm around her and falls asleep with his head against hers. Mona trembles in fear the entire time, and if he notices, he doesn't say anything.
Mona's first counseling appointment comes too quickly, and she's nervous the entire trip from her apartment to the coffee shop by the precinct. Mario seems uninterested, only mouthing off a little bit about how she shouldn't have played up the fact that she was a prostitute and complaining that it'll reflect poorly on him. "I'm no pimp," he argues in the doorway, as Mona makes her way down the cement steps.
"I know, baby!" she replies, turning around and mirroring his exasperated attitude. "It's just the first thing that came to mind. I thought they'd go easy on me, then."
"Yeah, well," Mario concedes, "it was smart this time. Go to your shrink session."
He says it with so much disdain that Mona, very briefly, wants to shout at him that she's meeting with the police. She's seen therapists before, and counselors, and psychiatrists, psychologists--everyone she can possibly think of in the realm of mental illness treatment. She's been seeing someone since she was in elementary school, but the administration didn't think she was adjusting well, though all she can remember from back then is playing board games and making sculptures out of fast-drying foam. Mona wants to tell him that nothing has ever helped, that she's damaged goods, that he can look down on her as much as he wants because she might not be around next month.
She's very angry, suddenly, and wishes she was going to see a therapist. Mona says nothing, though, and lets Mario slam the door behind him as she storms off down the street.
The half-hour walk to the coffee shop should be long enough to clear her mind and calm her down, but Mona is still fuming when she walks through the glass doors. She spots them immediately, Detective Chastain and another woman--young, with hair so dark auburn it looks almost purple in the light. She has to be another detective, Mona figures, as she makes her way over to their table.
"Hi, sweetheart," Kat says, smiling with the warmth that attracted Mona to her in the first place. "Do you want something? I know we're talking business, but Leah and I were planning on ordering coffee anyway."
The woman beside her, presumably Leah, smiles and nods. "It's on us. Whatever you want." She has a slight nasally twang to her voice, a hint of a Southern accent that Mona can't exactly place.
"A mocha?" Mona says hesitantly. "With whipped cream. A lot of whipped cream."
"Sure thing," Kat says, grinning, and turns to Leah. "Chocolate raspberry latte?"
"You know me too well, darlin'," Leah replies.
"I'll be back. You two, get acquainted, okay?"
Mona nods, watching Kat as she walks over to the counter to order their drinks. She doesn't feel uncomfortable with them, but the stress of the situation is starting to catch up to her. Leah must notice, because she's watching her with a very practiced gentleness.
"You doin' okay, honey?"
Mona nods again. "It's just...a lot."
"Yeah." She picks her legs up so she's sitting cross-legged in the wooden chair. "I've been in this line of work for a few years now, but even one year is a long time here. It weighs on you, no matter what, and I'm trained for it. I can't imagine how you're feeling."
"What line of work, exactly?" Mona asks. "I mean, do you work with Kat, or?"
Leah shakes her head. "I do work with her and the other detectives, but I've been doing a lot of undercover work lately. And you're kinda undercover, too. Before this, even. His world isn't yours, honey. You've been playing a role, haven't you?"
Mona thinks for a moment. "I guess so, but..." She sighs and rubs her hands together. "It's hard to explain."
Leah nods. "I understand, honey. None of this is easy."
"What if we can't get him?" Mona asks suddenly. "What if I can't record anything for you, or he realizes what's going on, or--"
"You can't think like that, Mona. There are too many what-ifs in life already, you don't have to go creating them for yourself."
"But I'm worried." Mona folds her hands on top of the table and glances over her shoulder. Kat is standing by the counter, waiting for their drinks, and she doesn't notice Mona looking back at her. "I just want to go home. They said they'd help me if I get Mario for them. What if I can't?"
"If you can't, we'll still help you," Leah assures her. "Things don't always work out, okay, honey? Don't beat yourself up before you've even tried, though."
"Everything going alright here?" Kat asks, carefully setting three ceramic mugs down on the table. "Mona?"
"Everything is fine," Leah replies. "Mona's worried. And scared. And she has every right to be."
Kat nods as she takes her seat once more. "It's going to be okay, Mona. We'll go through everything."
"Okay," Mona says, wrapping her hands around the warm mug of coffee. "Okay. I'm ready."
Title: Into the Unknown
Story: The Gemini Occurrence ( Kingdom of Second Chances #4)
Rating: PG-13
Flavor(s): Chocolate #26: nostalgia; Cinnamon Raisin #19: revenge is a dish best served cold; Fruit Salad #23: cream of the crop;
Topping(s): Caramel, Sprinkles
Word Count: 2504
Summary: November, Week 2, 2028. With the plan in motion, the charges against Mona are dropped.
Notes: Mona Lively, Detective Katharine Chastain, Detective Noel Reyes, Detective Leah Grant, ADA Laurent Marion, Captain Charles Meyer. (AN: For some reason, it won't let me tag Fruit Salad? So I guess that one's not being tagged.)
When the captain finally sits Mona down on the other side of his large, coffee-stained desk and tells her they're dropping the charges against her and she can go home, she breathes a sigh of relief. She's been stuck in the precinct for nearly 48 hours by then, having to sleep on the couch in the interview room while the detectives figure out what to do about the fact that they brought her in with enough drugs to get the whole police station high for the duration of her stay. She's finally formally introduced to Laurent Marion, the Assistant District Attorney, who begins his introduction by telling her he had been looking forward to prosecuting her.
All she wants to do at that point is leave. The only detective she likes is the woman, who insists she calls her Kat. Detective Reyes, though he may fit the bill for 'tall, dark, and handsome' is a little too intense for her tastes, and the ADA is hawkish, sarcastic, and seemingly chronically unhappy. The captain treats her gently, and for that she's grateful, but she knows that most of them still look at her like she's a pawn in a bigger game, not as a victim.
Mona doesn't think she actually wants to be thought of as a victim, though.
Before she leaves the station, she calls Mario and tells him the sob story she and Detective Chastain cooked up. "They arrested me because I was there with all the drugs!" she cries into her cellphone, while the detectives and ADA Marion all sit in, listening. "I thought I was going to prison, Mario!"
"I wouldn't let that happen, baby," Mario says, and he does sound sympathetic. "So what happened? You're out?"
"I played up this story about how I was just going to the hotel to work, and the guy got rough with me and left me alone in his room. They think I'm a prostitute but it worked. I picked some random out of a line-up and they charged him."
Laurent grins and leans over toward Kat. "Get this girl on TV," he whispers and Kat smacks his arm.
"I don't care about what happened anymore, I just wanna come home. I have to go to counseling though, twice a week for a few months or something. That was my deal so they wouldn't charge me with prostitution. This one lady cop was acting like she really cares about me or something. She said counseling would be good for me."
"Alright, whatever," Mario says. "Are you on your way back? I can't come get you."
"It's fine, I'm walking," Mona answers. "I'll see you soon, okay? I'm sorry about all this."
"It's okay, baby. It's not your fault."
After Mario hangs up, Mona scowls at the phone in her hand and whispers, "No, it's not my fault, it's yours."
"Mona," Kat says and places a hand on her shoulder, "you did great."
"You're a natural," Laurent announces, clapping his hands. "You'll get through this just fine."
"A natural," Mona says and laughs.
"Do you think he'll follow you to your 'counseling' appointments," Noel asks. "Because we may have to find another place to meet. We don't want him to know where you're actually going."
"No," Mona replies, shaking her head. "He won't care. One time, I tried to talk to him about my feelings, and he left the room while I was in the middle of talking. All I have to do is say how helpful counseling is going, and he'll want to wipe the whole thing from his mind."
"Even so," Captain Meyer says, "we should probably decide on an alternate place to meet. Having you show up at the police station every week isn't the best idea."
"A coffee shop, then," Laurent suggests. "It's inconspicuous enough. If the detectives wear plainclothes it should be fine."
"Won't more than one person be suspicious, too?" Mona asks.
"Smart girl," Captain Meyer smiles. "Say it's group therapy. There are ways of making our detectives look a little more...troubled than they are."
Mona laughs. "You mean, you're going to make them up like prostitutes and drug addicts."
"I volunteer to be a male prostitute," Noel says, raising his hand. "And you can be my pimp, Counselor."
"Oh, God," Laurent groans, "please, leave me out of your stupid fantasies. I have work to do; good luck, Miss Lively." He reaches across the table to shake her hand, clasping his other over the top in a decidedly compassionate gesture.
"Marion is right. You should be heading back before Mario gets suspicious. We'll see you in a few days to get everything in motion." Captain Meyer also rises from the table, and follows Laurent out of the interview room.
"And don't forget," Kat says, tapping her finger next to Mona's phone, "you have my number, so text or call if you need anything. I'm always here, okay?"
"Thank you, so much," Mona replies, misty eyed, as Kat reaches out to give her hand a squeeze.
"We've got your back," Noel assures her. "You're one of ours now."
Mona knows he means that she's an honorary member of their squad, for the time being, but she can't help feeling that, in a way, the NYPD owns her.
Laurent does, in fact, have work to do; there are five cases up for trial that week, and among his regular duties, he has witnesses to prep, questions to write, and all this on top of trying to work around a rather unorthodox NYPD plan. It's tiring, he thinks, trying to juggle everything. Normally, he feels energized, high on the pressure. It's part of why he works so well as a prosecutor. The righteous anger he feels for his victims serves to fuel the fire he brings in the courtroom. His passion is only overshadowed by his stubbornness, a trait that anyone who has worked with him knows well. Laurent Marion doesn't take no for an answer if he needs that answer to be yes. He doesn't sleep if there are loose ends to tie up in his cases. He doesn't give up after mistrials, and he sure as hell doesn't listen to threats of any kind.
He doesn't pretend to be a good man, though. Like everyone, he has vices. He has sinned. He knows that he can ruin--and he has. It's why he butts heads with Detective Reyes, breaks off intimate moments with Detective Chastain, and can't stand to be in the room with Captain Meyer one minute longer than he needs to.
It's why he brings up Detective Moeller's name. He wants himself to suffer. He's a masochist, fighting against the pain and suffering of others but inviting it into his life with open arms.
It's only too easy to use his work as an instrument of torture. Captain Meyer could have called Detective Grant in with no qualms from him, because Grant is qualified. She's good, and she's smart, and he figures that Mona would be much more comfortable with a female officer, anyway. But he called before he thought better of it, and then he couldn't back out. It would have saved him a lot of time, time that he's wasted rehashing the past instead of working.
The phone on his desk beeps, and Laurent knows what's coming before he even lifts the receiver. "Yes, Audrey?"
"Captain Meyer is on the phone," Audrey says, and he can hear her typing even as she speaks to him. The girl's young, but she's good. "Are you available, or should I take a message?"
"It's fine, Audrey. I'll talk to him."
"Line one, sir," Audrey says, and sets the receiver back down.
Laurent waits a moment before he presses the button below the flashing red light. "Yes, Captain Meyer?"
"I called Moeller. He's flying in at the end of the week." There is a pause on both ends of the line while Captain Meyer waits for a response, and Laurent tries to collect his thoughts. "Are you going to be alright?" he asks finally.
"Charles," Laurent starts, choking halfway through his name, and Captain Meyer interrupts him.
"I have to go, Counselor. I'll check back in later?" It sounds like a question, is phrased like a question, but Laurent knows better. There is no other option; Captain Meyer hasn't forgotten what happened, and he isn't going to let anything slide.
"Fine. Goodbye, Captain Meyer." Laurent hangs up quickly, just in case, unwilling to give Captain Meyer any further excuse to lecture him. Detective Moeller is flying in at the end of the week, and Laurent still has work to do.
The first thing Mona does when she gets back to the apartment is wash the dishes. They need to be done; they must have been sitting there, waiting for her, ever since she'd been arrested. Mario likes the apartment kept at a certain level of cleanliness, but is unwilling to do the work himself. Mona knows some of his history, that he grew up poor, and she can't help but wonder where his entitled attitude comes from.
He's home when she gets in, but she can hear him talking to someone in the other room and chooses not to disturb him. It isn't the first time she's been on edge with him, but her heart pounds erratically in her chest. She's terrified he'll know her secret already. She's terrified he's already plotting against her.
Detective Chastain's personal cell number is in her phone, under the name 'Kat,' and all Mona can think about is texting her. She doesn't though, because she doesn't want Mario to catch her. And she doesn't want to worry Kat.
Nothing happens, though. The night is quiet. Mario wants fast food for dinner, and they curl up in bed and watch Netflix after. Mario puts his arm around her and falls asleep with his head against hers. Mona trembles in fear the entire time, and if he notices, he doesn't say anything.
Mona's first counseling appointment comes too quickly, and she's nervous the entire trip from her apartment to the coffee shop by the precinct. Mario seems uninterested, only mouthing off a little bit about how she shouldn't have played up the fact that she was a prostitute and complaining that it'll reflect poorly on him. "I'm no pimp," he argues in the doorway, as Mona makes her way down the cement steps.
"I know, baby!" she replies, turning around and mirroring his exasperated attitude. "It's just the first thing that came to mind. I thought they'd go easy on me, then."
"Yeah, well," Mario concedes, "it was smart this time. Go to your shrink session."
He says it with so much disdain that Mona, very briefly, wants to shout at him that she's meeting with the police. She's seen therapists before, and counselors, and psychiatrists, psychologists--everyone she can possibly think of in the realm of mental illness treatment. She's been seeing someone since she was in elementary school, but the administration didn't think she was adjusting well, though all she can remember from back then is playing board games and making sculptures out of fast-drying foam. Mona wants to tell him that nothing has ever helped, that she's damaged goods, that he can look down on her as much as he wants because she might not be around next month.
She's very angry, suddenly, and wishes she was going to see a therapist. Mona says nothing, though, and lets Mario slam the door behind him as she storms off down the street.
The half-hour walk to the coffee shop should be long enough to clear her mind and calm her down, but Mona is still fuming when she walks through the glass doors. She spots them immediately, Detective Chastain and another woman--young, with hair so dark auburn it looks almost purple in the light. She has to be another detective, Mona figures, as she makes her way over to their table.
"Hi, sweetheart," Kat says, smiling with the warmth that attracted Mona to her in the first place. "Do you want something? I know we're talking business, but Leah and I were planning on ordering coffee anyway."
The woman beside her, presumably Leah, smiles and nods. "It's on us. Whatever you want." She has a slight nasally twang to her voice, a hint of a Southern accent that Mona can't exactly place.
"A mocha?" Mona says hesitantly. "With whipped cream. A lot of whipped cream."
"Sure thing," Kat says, grinning, and turns to Leah. "Chocolate raspberry latte?"
"You know me too well, darlin'," Leah replies.
"I'll be back. You two, get acquainted, okay?"
Mona nods, watching Kat as she walks over to the counter to order their drinks. She doesn't feel uncomfortable with them, but the stress of the situation is starting to catch up to her. Leah must notice, because she's watching her with a very practiced gentleness.
"You doin' okay, honey?"
Mona nods again. "It's just...a lot."
"Yeah." She picks her legs up so she's sitting cross-legged in the wooden chair. "I've been in this line of work for a few years now, but even one year is a long time here. It weighs on you, no matter what, and I'm trained for it. I can't imagine how you're feeling."
"What line of work, exactly?" Mona asks. "I mean, do you work with Kat, or?"
Leah shakes her head. "I do work with her and the other detectives, but I've been doing a lot of undercover work lately. And you're kinda undercover, too. Before this, even. His world isn't yours, honey. You've been playing a role, haven't you?"
Mona thinks for a moment. "I guess so, but..." She sighs and rubs her hands together. "It's hard to explain."
Leah nods. "I understand, honey. None of this is easy."
"What if we can't get him?" Mona asks suddenly. "What if I can't record anything for you, or he realizes what's going on, or--"
"You can't think like that, Mona. There are too many what-ifs in life already, you don't have to go creating them for yourself."
"But I'm worried." Mona folds her hands on top of the table and glances over her shoulder. Kat is standing by the counter, waiting for their drinks, and she doesn't notice Mona looking back at her. "I just want to go home. They said they'd help me if I get Mario for them. What if I can't?"
"If you can't, we'll still help you," Leah assures her. "Things don't always work out, okay, honey? Don't beat yourself up before you've even tried, though."
"Everything going alright here?" Kat asks, carefully setting three ceramic mugs down on the table. "Mona?"
"Everything is fine," Leah replies. "Mona's worried. And scared. And she has every right to be."
Kat nods as she takes her seat once more. "It's going to be okay, Mona. We'll go through everything."
"Okay," Mona says, wrapping her hands around the warm mug of coffee. "Okay. I'm ready."