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Something Unsaid (something worthwhile) by ms_scarlet for flashindie
Fandoms: Good Girls (TV)
05 Sep 2021
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"You're embarrassed," Beth blurts.
Rio makes a sound that's part grunt, part snort. But not, she notes, outright denial.
"You are," she says, understanding dawning. "You had to call me for help, and you hate it, don't you?"
"And you just fell your ass all the way down a hill ‘coz you're too spiteful to make sure you don't already have everythin' you need, so how 'bout we call it even, yeah?"
She’s quiet for a moment, the steady, monotonous rhythm of the rain almost like static, enveloping them in white noise. His body moves under her hands, solid and so, so warm.
"I wasn't spiteful," Beth mutters.
Now the sound he makes is definitely a snort, closer to a laugh.
"Not tonight," she says, the admission prim. As close to an acknowledgment that maybe he has a point as she's willing to go.
This time he all the way laughs, and Beth can’t help the way her lips twitch in response, so she ducks her head to the side to hide it from him.
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"I robbed a grocery store."
As soon as she says it, Beth's mouth snaps shut. Her fingers curl around the edge of the bartop, her nails digging into the varnish in an attempt to stop herself from clasping her hands over her mouth and trying to stuff the words back in because that'll only make it worse.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
She can't go around telling strangers she robbed a grocery store.
His eyebrows shoot up. "That right?"
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prompt: what if the night
beforeafter the robbery beth is just feeling reckless and out of control and can't sleep and she goes out to the bar and meets him and they hook up and she gets off on the total anonymity because she's about to do this other thing she can never claim credit for either and nobody would ever believe she's done these two insane things -
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There’s a pause like a held breath, and then the cellist lets out a long, deep note. The rest of the quartet joins in with a slow, soft melody Beth doesn’t recognize, but the romance of it’s almost enough to make her heart swell and ache.
Or maybe it does as she looks to Rio, her eyes wide, disbelieving, but that’s only because of the irony. He feels it, too; she’s pretty sure. She can tell from the wry twist to the smile that curls up the corner of his mouth.
But even still, when he extends a hand to her, something in Beth flutters and takes flight.
Stupid. She’s so stupid.
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Then Rio's moving, leaning across the console into her space, those long, strong fingers cupping the back of her neck. Independent of intent or any kind of rational thought, driven by some self-destructive instinct she'd never known she possessed before she met him, Beth's hands come up. Her fingers curl around the collar of his jacket, and she pulls herself the rest of the way into him, her body going rogue before any scraps of good sense she may still have lying around can dust themselves off and put a stop to this.
"It's for the alibi, yeah? Don't read into it."
She balks, wordless inquiry building on her tongue. But then Rio's mouth's on hers—his hesitation only perceptible if she were cataloging every move, every breath, every twitch, and sigh (and she's not, she's not she's not)—before she can do more than breathe in his air.
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The ride to the hotel might've been five minutes, might've been five years, it's impossible to tell with the waves of heat rolling over him, each one draggin’ him further under than the last. He can see it hitting Elizabeth too. Can see her shudder with each break, her eyes gleamin’ and locked tight on his.
There's a halo flarin’ bright and gold around her curls where she's backlit against the city night rushing by, making her look like some kind of stained glass work of art installed in a church to worship. He knows it's whatever they're on, can tell from the rainbow edges forming on everything around him, but he can't help laugh a little, helpless and bitter.
She's 'bout as close to sainthood as he is.
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Or, an evening in which Beth and Rio give in to being their worst selves.
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"Here's how we're gonna do this," Rio's voice is soft, intimate, sending a shiver up Beth's spine. "You're gonna get in the car, and I'm not gonna shoot you in the leg."
That's when Beth realizes his gun is out, suddenly feeling it pressed to her thigh, "Then you're gonna stop fuckin' testing me because one of these days, I'm not gonna give you a warning, yeah?"
"You- you can't-" Beth's trembling, and she knows it's obvious because he smiles, and it isn't a nice smile, "You need me alive, remember?"
"There are all kinds of ways you can shoot someone so they don't die," Rio chucks her chin, a glancing touch that barely connects, and backs up a step. "You should know, darlin'."
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"And with this new deal, I can pay that off ahead of schedule," she says, forcing her voice to be perky and bright.
"Can." Rio says it flat, but the corner of his mouth curves up, and he folds his hands around his cue, leaning forward slightly. "Not have."
"Will," Beth insists. "Soon."
"Yeah, I'm still not seeing why we havin' this conversation right now."
Instead of answering, Beth yanks on the zipper, ripping open the duffle bag exposing the neat packets of cash stuffed inside, then stepping back and gesturing to it like a game show host.
That faint curve curls and stretches, a full smile spreading across his face. It's sly and amused, satisfied in the way he usually is when presented with a pile of money, but there's something else in it too, something heated and vaguely threatening that makes Beth's stomach flutter in response.
"A'ight, tell you what. You wanna have this conversation so bad?" Rio gestures at the table with his cue. "Play you for it."
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There's somethin' 'bout falling snow that's always captivated Rio.
It's in the way the world seems like it goes silent and still. Calm and quiet in a way his life rarely matches.
It never fails to excavate long-buried memories. Not buried because they're bad, though he's got enough of those to go around, but tucked out of the way. Important, but not the kind of thing he needs clutterin' his mind on the day to day.
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Have some Christmas fluff!
Series
- Part 3 of oh no, don't close your eyes
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It starts with a lie.
#1: She doesn’t want this.
#2: She doesn’t trust him.
#3: It doesn’t mean anything.
The thing is, the best lies are a little bit true.
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For #GGKink2020, prompt 28: Rio loves shaving Beth, especially her legs, with old fashioned tools. She returns the favour. Shaving kink, maybe little knife/razor play
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#3: 5 outsider POVs on beth & rio getting together somewhere down the line from 3x11. would love rhea, mick, annie, ruby, and dean. not all people have to come around and be supportive, but writer can pick who feels what.
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- Part 2 of oh no, don't close your eyes
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They never talk about it, what they're doing. They never acknowledge it at all, really, it's just part of what they do now. Rio comes by at night, looks at the books, picks up the money, and lays Elizabeth out on whatever piece of furniture is the handiest.
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- Part 1 of oh no, don't close your eyes
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Mick had been there the first time Rio'd had to get his hands all the way dirty and had kept an eye on him when he'd gotten blackout drunk after, and Rio'd done the same for him. Every bloody, grimy step Rio'd climbed, Mick had been right there with him, watching his back all the way to the top.
The point is Rio's Mick's brother in every way that counts.
Mick'd seen him twisted up over business and twisted up over personal shit, but he's never seen him let both get twisted up like he had since that fuckin' weasel Boomer'd got his ass handed to him and Rio'd gotten curious about it.
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Four times Mick doesn’t get it and one time he does.
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“He’s so mad,” she whispers to Mick except maybe it isn’t a whisper because Rio clearly heard her and- oh! Maybe he has super hearing, that would make sense.
“Oh yeah,” Mick nods. “He big mad.”
Beth suddenly sobers, as much as she can when she feels like she’s simultaneously floating away and sinking into the Earth, and wipes her eyes. “Are you gonna get in trouble?”
“You’re in the house, ain’t you?” He’s answering Beth but looking at Rio.
“Mick,” Beth frantically tugs at his pant leg because apparently he doesn’t have all of the information. “We’re in the yard.”
“Yeah, Mick.” Rio says, glaring. “You’re in the yard.”
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Aka the one where Beth throws caution to the wind and gets high with her guard.
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"What the fuck kind of help did you want, Elizabeth? What did you think you were askin' for? For me to take care of it? What the fuck do you think that means?"
"I don't- I don't know-" She's sputtering, taking a step back at the sudden explosion.
"Yeah. Yeah, you do," he sneers. She likes to pretend she don't know shit, but he's seen the way her mind works, she knows exactly what's up even when she don't want to admit it to herself. "It means somebody gets dead. You just don't want it to happen where you can see it."
He steps in, right back up against her. Close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off of her, a sharp contrast to the chill of the rain falling around them. "You talked a lot of shit about me puttin' it all on you like you weren't out there tryin' to put your dirty work on me so you could keep your lily-white hands clean."
She snaps. Rio sees it in her face, and a part of him uncoils. There she is.
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I have an idea.
Kk
Don’t you want to know what it is?
It’s a good one.Remember when u came thru w/a bag of botox or some shit bc u & ur lady friends thought it was a good idea to knock over a medspa
Nevermind.
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To paraphrase the great Jennifer Cruise, Beth’s soul is a corkscrew (aka the one where Beth wants to buy some lingerie and Rio is there to help).
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say it's all in my head (i remember what you said) by ms_scarlet
Fandoms: Good Girls (TV)
01 Mar 2020
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"What am I doing here, Elizabeth?"
Beth's honestly not sure how Rio expects her to answer him in any way coherently when he's looking at her like that. With all of that ferocity and focus honed to a diamond point behind hooded eyes fixed directly, entirely on her. The barest hint of a smile lurks in the curve of his lip as he waits for her answer.
She's babbling about bread for god's sake, why he thinks she has any idea what will come out of her mouth next, she doesn't know.
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What if That Scene in 209 didn't fade to black? Cuts before the follow-up scene because I am not a monster.
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what a wicked game you played (to make me feel this way) by ms_scarlet
Fandoms: Good Girls (TV)
27 Feb 2020
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The thing about Elizabeth is that she surprised him and it'd been a long time since anyone managed to pull that off. It wasn't the housewife thing, he'd crossed paths with plenty of suburban bitches and knew their flavors of desperate inside and out. In his line of work, he's seen people at every version of their worst.
Elizabeth, though, she was somethin' else. She'd sat there that afternoon way back when with her shoulders straight, hands folded, all prim and proper, and a gun to her forehead for the first time in her life, callin' Rio out on his shit. The way her voice had been shaking, he'd looked up expecting tears, preemptively exhausted at the thought of them. But underneath that flush, she'd been mad as hell, and it stopped him up short because her mad had an edge he'd recognized.
He hadn't been expecting that.
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Beth is a champion at not thinking about things.
She could fill entire neighborhoods with all the things she doesn't think about. Things like: how she can't remember the last time she knew for sure where next month's mortgage payment was coming from. How her mother in law seems to be waiting in the wings for a single misstep so she can push Beth out of her own home and claim her family for her own. How Dean cheating again is a when, not an if, and she should probably feel something about that besides distantly glad that he'll be occupied and out of her way. How she may have bitten off a little more than she can chew with her brilliant outsourcing strategy, and she can never admit it to the girls. How seeing the shadowy figure in her backyard made her heart pound and time crystallize but not from fear even as she cataloged all of the details of the silhouette that were off, bad, fundamentally wrong.
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She misses him the way she would miss a sense or a body part; she misses him like something that was always a part of her, even though, realistically, she’d only known him for four years compared to the rest of her life. She misses him like something vital she’d never considered what it would be like to be without until suddenly she was.
Modern AU - Clarke hasn’t seen her best friend for six years and then suddenly she does.