fandomtownies | Trooper Station; Monday. [ 11/10 ]

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Trooper Station; Monday. [ 11/10 ]

Daisy certainly hoped Roy wouldn't too terribly mind her going through and organizing everything in the computer, although she got the feeling that he wouldn't even notice. Still, there wasn't much going on in these small towns, even ones with balloon animals coming to life and little coloured elephants dashing about, so she didn't know what else she'd be doing since all her other paperwork was practically finished before her first cup of tea.

There were spreadsheets. Oh, how there were spreadsheets, and it made her quite satisfied. When there were spreadsheets, it was like everything in the world just came together neatly in organized, categorized little boxes, like those boxes of chocolates with the guide to tell you what was what.

[[ open, of course, though my availability isn't until afternoon EST, so sp until then = love ]]

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Loki had spent the weekend inside and, after he realized that this morning, wanted to kick himself in his own head. He knew better than that.

Or maybe he didn't considering he was voluntarily setting foot inside a fucking police station but hey, maybe there was someone interesting inside.

When Daisy heard the door to the station open, she looked up prepared, of course, to expect anything, but, out of the many considerations, her landlord hadn't been one of them, and her back straightened. Oh, bullocks, she found herself thinking, Something's gone wrong. Something's blown up, or something wee and tiny has invaded and clogged up all the drains so the lobby's all flooded. Something's gone wrong between tenants, or something's been stolen (toaster, most likely) to be sold unlawfully on an overexcited splurge thanks to the discovery of eBay.

She rather hoped, out of the endless list of possibilities, that last one would be it because then she'd have a lead already.

"Loki," she nodded. "Everything all right?"

"God, no," he said, looking stricken before taking a seat. "Do you know how bored I am? I'm ready to take up knitting. Fucking knitting."

A quick surge ran through Daisy at Loki's first response, one of eagerness and excitement and no small amount of worry, to get to her feet and finally do something around here, but it dropped back into her stomach as soon as he continued, and she fell back against the back of her chair a little roughly as she blinked at him, holding back her disappointment.

"Oh," she said, hardly thinking knitting a crime. "At least it's a helpful hobby?" she offered. "Especially with winter coming just around the corner."

Loki tilted his head and squinted at her. "What's the matter with you?"

Stupid knitting conversations could wait.

"You seem really fucking restless."

Daisy took in a small breath. "Well, I just thought...You know..."

She released it, trying a different tact. "Most people don't usually come into a PD without much of a reason, you know. In fact, usurping an officer's time needlessly can be considered an offense in certain situations."

Not to say that she considered this such a situation; it just made her nervous.

"You can arrest me," he said lightly, shrugging. "Hell, I'll even put up a struggle if you want something to do. I don't mind getting my ass kick around. Regardless, I wasn't trying to usurp. I stayed inside all fucking weekend, I took a walk, I ended up here, you were here, so I stayed."

She was never going to get used to living in a small town where everyone knew what you did for a living. In London, not even half of her friends even knew what she did, but here, there was absolutely no avoiding it. Daisy shook her head slightly, with a glance toward the clock, then a glance toward the door, and a reminder that the numbers were a bit opposite: more people knew what you did, but fewer people were likely to complain if that line between professional and personal she so tightly held was loosened a little.

She went out to lunch with a colleague on Friday, for crying out loud. She'd never done that before, that was for sure...

"You're not usurping much more than spreadsheets anyway," she admitted with a shrug. "For all the warnings everyone insisted on giving me, it's been terribly quiet around here. Closest thing I have to excitement around here is a possible theft charge that I'm pretty sure isn't going to be bothered to be filed anyway. That's almost as dull as what they were giving me in London."

"Sounds like you need to take up knitting more than I fucking do," he said, giving her an easy grin. "Besides, you probably just jinxed it. Tomorrow, some giant mangy dog will be running rampant, eating people and making everyone weep with the humanity."

Loki put both hands on his cheeks, pulling a look of both fear and astonishment. He pitched his voice higher and said, "Oh, the humanity! A giant fucking dog is eating my car!"

He shrugged, easing back into his own voice. "And we'll have you to blame, Officer. Detective. Sergeant. Whatever."

It was not an easy thing to do, sitting through those theatrics with a straight face, but Daisy was determined to try, but, in the end, holding it back only made her laugh more energetic when it burst out, and rolled into a chuckle. "Detective Constable," she corrected at the tail end, shaking her head. "And you can bet that I know just what I'll be doing tomorrow, then. Patrolling the island with a few of the troopers and questioning any suspicious looking giant fucking dogs."

"And," she added, "telling everyone that it was actually you who thought of it, not me."

"I've dealt with far worse than giant fucking dogs," he said, "so I'd offer valiantly to step in and help you out but something tells me that kind of chivalry would only earn a boot in the ass. You look like you can handle yourself just fine, Detective Constable. That's a real fucking mouthful."

"I suppose it would depend on the size of the dog itself," Daisy mused. "Anything as big as a house, I'd be more than willing to accept any help I can get and would consider it a very noble service to the community."

"And it is," Daisy agreed, with a slightly twisted expression of thought, "but a well-earned one. But you call me that outside the line of duty, and you will get that boot to the arse."

"Aggressive woman are really fucking hot," he said idly but smiled at her. "Don't worry, I'm not much for titles anyway. I used to have one but now I don't. Titles are one of those things that get tacked onto a name for so goddamn long, you might actually forget your God given name because you're too busy going by your damn title."

Daisy gave Loki a faint smile back, though she was thinking this was an unfortunate location to be having a conversation like this. Daisy Day couldn't agree with him more, but Daisy Day was sitting in Detective Constable Day's chair right now, and, somehow, that stole away her ability to really say much on the topic. In this chair, the DC was law, but was left right at the door when she got home and put up her proverbial, metaphorical hat.

It was enough to make her wonder if she should take a lunch break.

But she didn't say anything, except to ask, "Really think you'll take up knitting? You could sell them on eBay; that seems to be the popular thing to do. And what was the title? Or at least the line of work and I can take guesses from there."

This time, Loki leaned back in his hair, lacing his fingers together behind his head.

"I'd be more liable to stab someone with the knitting needle before actually making something," he said. "And I was a...cleaner of sorts."

That was one way to put it.

"Now I'll have a lead if ever a murder-by-needle crops up," Daisy commented, before she quirked both brow and smile. "And I didn't know they gave janitors titles."

"You would never be able to catch me," he said easily but confidently. "And I wasn't a janitor."

"Oh." Daisy blinked, just one, and then she nodded. "Dry cleaning, then, silly me," she said, although it was clear that clean clothes wasn't what she was thinking at all. Hard pill to swallow, that one. She settled a gaze on Loki, one that said she meant what she was going to say, meant it even if it wouldn't turn out successful, "And I'd try until I did."

"You're not even close," he said, sitting up a little straight and meeting her gaze. "And what makes you think I'd let you? I'm not like anyone else you've ever met."

"Oh, I'm very sure of that," Daisy said with an allowing tilt of her head. "It's not everyone who just comes right into a police station, talking about past and imaginary offenses, and then challenging an officer to keep up."

Because that was just it: Daisy would try, even if she knew somewhere in her head that it was hopeless.

He smiled at that, slow and easy and smugly. He thought about pushing further, seeing how far he could go but held off for a moment or two.

"I never said they were imaginary." He almost winked but wondered if she might stick a pen in his eye if he did. That always fucking hurt. "I've committed a great deal of offenses and I haven't been caught but once. One time and it was by the highest order in the goddamn land. If you think you can keep up with me, if you want you, you should. I bet you'd get closer than most."

"I never said I would," Daisy pointed out, blinking just the once again, and lifting her chin just slightly. "Just that I'd try, and I wouldn't give up."

"And I never said I thought you'd give up, Detective Constable," he returned, crossing his arms. "You're very calm. I have this hobby, trying to poke at people until they get so fucking upset that they yell back. Don't judge me, it's worked for a long damn time but you're...very calm."

"I think," Daisy commented after a moment to process that, "you really should pick up knitting."

That, and she was getting too old for this shit. She was twenty-six years old, and she was feeling too old for this shit every single time she encountered someone like this who made her feel like those cops you only ever see in the movies: tough and hard-bitten and saying things like I'm too old for this shit. She knew how perfectly ridiculous this was, thank you very much, but she might have been a little annoyed (and kind of sad) to find out that her landlord that she was liking very much was actually a little psychotic.

He smiled at the reply because really, what else could he do? He'd heard that tone before, used it before even.

Loki stood up and shrugged. "You never did guess what sort of work I did prior to coming here."

Oh, she'd guessed; Daisy just chose not to say anything because she was hoping to maintain some sort of separate relationship between the Detective Constable and Daisy Day, but now she wasn't so sure if she could do that. In fact, she was starting to wonder if something like that would be impossible in a small town like this, and it made her feel something in her chest that might be one of the few buds of panic she'd ever have.

"Is it work you're still doing now?"

"No, I'm retired," he said and shrugged easily. "Got talked into retirement by a friend and I've kind of regretted it ever since."

"Knitting," Daisy reiterated. "Great retirement habit. Just think of all the lovely tea cozies you could make."

She was thinking she could use a retirement herself.

"And then what you did before is just that, what you did before, doesn't matter one lick."

Except it did; she knew it did. She knew it would bother her until she felt there was something she could do to justify his means. She knew enough to know that there was probably nothing, not without details, not without knowing, and it would gnaw and nibble on her until it finally got in a great big bite.

"I'll give you a hint," he said, ignoring her knitting remarks. "You carry a gun. I used to carry a flaming sword. And if you think that's a euphemism or a figure of speech, I'd advise you that I don't often lie about my past."

And then he smiled again.

"We should talk again."

Flaming swords, Jesus' best friend, time travel, and little not-quite-pink elephants.

I'm getting too old for this shit.

Daisy blinked once again before a light smile. "You've got my number."

"I do." He nodded and headed for the door. "Nice to talk to you again, Detective Constable. Hope I didn't piss you off too much. It's nice to talk to someone who won't put up with my shit."

Daisy wondered if that meant that next time she shouldn't be as pleasantly civil next time, because she worried that she'd put up with his shit too much.

"Have a nice day, Loki."

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Trooper Station; Monday. [ 11/10 ]

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