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what happens in star city (can leave a permanent mark on your heart)
Cooper got Metropolis.
The sentence still echoed in her mind. Metropolis had been her dream job- the coveted assignment only one cadet was selected for each year. Beyond that, Metropolis was where Sophia had been assigned by her company. Sophia, who had made it clear on more than one occasion that she didn’t want to do long distance any longer. And so Ava had worked her ass off at the academy to do her best, to be the best, so she could have her pick of assignments, and not only did she still lose out, she had lost out to Chet Cooper. Tenth in their class and skating by on his father’s coattails Chet Cooper.
Douchebag.
Nora and Nate got Star City. Gary had continued in a follow up text.
Star City wasn’t a bad gig, in fact it was Ava’s second choice.
Gary had already been assigned to National City. Not his first pick but also not terrible, and he could always put in for a transfer in a couple years if needed. Now she and Ray were the only ones still waiting.
And so that is how Ava had found herself there, staring up at the sign. She had taken a shot of tequila, followed by another, and dialed Sophia’s number. The conversation had gone exactly how Ava had expected as she wandered down the street from the hotel, her phone pressed against her ear. Three years of relationship- two during college and one long distance after graduation- gone in an instant. Apparently love meant nothing to some people when it wasn’t convenient.
This was a mistake. Sure, she had agreed to the bet and a bet is a bet, but in her defense she’s still not sure how she’d lost. She had an eidetic memory. She couldn’t forget anything, even when she tried, and there were definitely some memories she would rather forget. Everything from ages eleven through sixteen for starters. Counting cards was second nature to her. She had bested all of her dad’s poker buddies at age seven. She had put herself through undergrad using the skill. Hell, she was a candidate for an upper-level analyst position straight out of the academy because of it. And yet, somehow she had lost to Nora of all people. Nora, who, as much as Ava loved her, was a terrible poker player. She had beaten Ray, and Nate, and even Gary who was surprisingly good at card games, and lost to Nora.
Cheated. They must have cheated somehow. That was the only explanation.
Nora had told her she didn’t have to do it. It was just a silly bet, and honestly she had been planning to chicken out, to just put up with the few days of ridicule because of course Ava Sharpe would never do something spontaneous like get a tattoo on a bet. But she had lost the bet, she had lost Metropolis, and she had lost Sophia, all within the span of an hour. And to top it all off, her parent’s hadn’t even pretended to have a reason for not showing up to her graduation ceremony two nights before. They had made their opinions on her “lifestyle” and chosen line of work perfectly clear. So, here she was, alone in Star City, her head buzzing with loss and tequila, staring up at the neon sign for a tattoo parlor. Legends, Ink.
A group of college-aged girls burst out the glass door, the sound of their tittering laughs spilling out into the street with them. Ava shoved her hands into the front pockets of her khakis, and rocked back on her heels as the co-eds turned to stumble down the sidewalk in their short skirts and four inch stilettos.
“You coming in or not?”
The voice startled Ava out of her reverie and her eyes shot down to find the most beautiful blonde she had ever seen leaning lazily against the door jam of the shop. She was about Ava’s age, dressed in black from her head to the toe of her army style boots, with bold black lines of a tattoo trailing up her arm, disappearing under her t-shirt. The sleeves of which had been ripped off so the armholes of the now tank top gaped down her sides, allowing Ava the knowledge that the tattoo continued across to her torso, and she was definitely not wearing a bra.
“Oh, I uh, I’m not sure.” Ava stuttered, her heart now hammering in her chest for more than one reason.
“Personally, I believe a person needs to be sure before getting something permanently etched on their body, or they will definitely wake up with regret in the morning. Unfortunately, that rarely seems to happen around here.” The woman gazed down the street where the giggling pack of girls had disappeared into the night, and hopefully back to their hotel.
“What, you don’t think those co-eds thoroughly considered the consequences of their actions?”
“Judging by the tattoos they just got, no, definitely not.” The woman shot a smirk at Ava, her crystal blue eyes giving Ava’s body a once over, making her shiver in a good way. “So, you in or you out?”
Ava withdrew her hands from her pockets of her practical pants, and shook her arms and shoulders, loosening her muscles under the sleeves of her button down. She shouldn’t do this. It was ridiculous. But then again, she always did what was expected of her, right? And what had it gotten her? Not Metropolis, not Sophia, not parents who accepted her.
“In.” She spat the word out with more conviction than she felt in any of her trembling limbs and took a step toward the door.
“Okay then, come on in.” The woman stepped to the side as she held the door open for Ava with a flourish.
The chime on the door jingled as it closed with a soft thump and Ava turned, her brow furrowed as she heard the lock snick into place.
The woman flipped off the neon “open” sign and turned to Ava with a shrug. “You’re the last customer of the night, and drunk people are really bad at reading signs. I’m Sara, by the way, this is my shop.”
“Hi, I’m Sharpe.” Ava froze, mentally smacking herself. Good to know the academy had ingrained the use of her last name in her so thoroughly though. “Ava, I mean, Ava. Sorry. Habit.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Sharpe, Ava.” Sara said, grinning, and Ava felt her legs weaken at the sight of the woman’s dimples. Paired with the fine coating of freckles covering every inch of her body- that Ava could see anyway- it was a deadly combination.
“So, first questions. What size and where do you want it? Wrist, ankle, arm?”
“Small and um, it needs to be somewhere they won’t see it at work.”
“Ribs, hip, back? Please don’t say tramp stamp.”
“Uh, which hurts less, ribs or hip?”
“Hip, for sure.”
“Then hip, I guess.”
“You guess?”
“Hip, yeah my hip. Here,” Ava continued, pointing to her back, just above the swell of her butt.
“Okay,” Sara drew out the word, causing embarrassment to flood Ava’s chest. “And what are you getting on your hip?”
“I, um-” Ava trailed off and glanced around the shop for the first time, which was surprisingly clean and orderly, taking in the art covered walls. “I just need a minute to look around.”
“No problem. I’ll just leave this here for you to sign when you’re ready. I’ll be in the back heating up my dinner.” Sara told her, placing a form and ballpoint pen on the counter before turning to walk to a black door in the rear of the small shop.
“Dinner? But it’s ten o’clock at night.” The shocked words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and Ava could feel crimson rising to her cheeks for the second time in as many minutes.
Sara shook her head, laughing as she continued to walk away. “You’re cute.”
Sara disappeared from sight and Ava sagged back against the counter, her hands coming up to cover her face. Why did she have to be such a spaz?
Her phone buzzed in her back pocket and Ava sighed as she stood up to fish it out.
Pics or it didn’t happen!
Yea, we won’t be fooled by a press-on, Sharpe!
There better be blood.
U git tgos!
Don’t mind Gary, he's drunk.
Ava closed the group chat and shoved her phone back in her pocket, straightened her shoulders, and stepped toward the wall covered in sheets of doodles and designs.
Dragons. No. Butterflies, dolphins, flowers, hearts. Ava crinkled her nose. No, not her style. Skulls. Definitely not. Chinese symbols. Oh god, no. The last thing she needed was to discover she had unintentionally tattooed Soup on her skin. Her eyes glanced over the sketches one by one, some much more intricate than others. She felt her body and mind relax as she studied the art. It was good. Sara had talent. She paused, her finger reaching out to run over the design of a semicolon with a rainbow watercolor splash mark behind it.
“It’s for suicide awareness.”
Ava’s head whipped around at the sound of Sara’s voice to find the other woman had returned with her dinner and was leaning back against the desk just like Ava had been doing a moment earlier, a Chinese takeout container and a pair of chopsticks in her hands. “Excuse me?”
“The semicolon. It’s for a life that almost ended but then continued.”
“That’s surprisingly beautiful.”
“A lot of tattoos actually have beautiful meanings behind them, either personal or universal.”
“What does your tattoo mean?” Ava asked suddenly. Her eyes tracing the black tendrils etched over Sara’s arm, torso and neck.
Sara gave her a sideways glance. “You’re not supposed to ask people that. It’s against tattoo etiquette.”
“Shit, I mean shoot, I’m so sorry.”
Sara chuckled again. “You’re about to get stabbed hundreds of times by a tiny needle. It’s okay to swear here. This is a safe space.”
A nervous laugh escaped Ava’s throat, and she tried to keep her brain from focusing on the part about the needle. “Fuck this is going to hurt, isn’t it?”
“I’ve never had anyone tell me it tickles, well, except for Mick and he’s just weird. Luckily for you, the hip doesn’t hurt too bad. There’s a lot of flesh in that area and not a lot of bone or nerve endings.”
“You know this from experience?” Ava bit her lip at the suggestive tone her voice had taken without her consent. Oh, those shots of tequila were definitely starting to hit.
Sara shot her a wink in response. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Ava swallowed hard. Yes, she would, that was the problem.
“You decide yet?”
Ava shook her head, and continued on to the last section of art. She didn’t need something big or complicated, but if she was getting something permanently etched on her body, she wanted it to be something she liked at least.
“Do me a favor and stay away from sheets two, three, and six.”
Ava glanced back down, laughing softly at the butterflies, dolphins, and the Chinese symbols. “Why? I happen to like dolphins.”
“So do I, but trust me you would regret that in the morning. Unless you happen to work for a dolphin rescue.”
Ava chuckled and turned back to her decision, walking up and down the line a couple more times until Sara let out a loud sigh behind her. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude but it’s late. If you don’t know what you want, you’re going to need to come back tomorrow.”
Ava swallowed hard, she couldn’t come back tomorrow. Their flight out was at the crack of dawn.
“Okay, that one.” Ava said definitively pointing at a delicate looping infinity symbol with a watercolor splash behind it. “And, could you do it in rainbow?”
Sara’s eyebrow quirked in silent question but she gave a slow nod. “No problem. Are you sure?”
“100 percent.” Nothing in her life seemed to be going right at the moment, but if there was one constant, it was her love for women, not that any seemed to love her back.
“Okay. Then hop up on the table, Ava Sharpe and pull down your pants.”
“Excuse me?”
“Hip, pants, I can’t tattoo you through them.”
“Right.”
“I’ll be right back. There’s clean towels underneath the table to help preserve your modesty if needed.”
Sara smirked at her again as she pulled the hospital-esque curtain closed blocking the table from the view of the street, and Ava hesitated. This wasn’t her. She had half a mind just to walk out and just give in to the ridicule of not going through with the bet.
Her phone buzzed again and her eyes rolled at the screen. 26 new messages.
$50 says she goes KFC.
No bet. We all know she’s not going to do it. It’s Sharpe.
Dammit, Ava fumed, setting the phone and her wallet down on a nearby chair and unbuttoning her pants. There was no way she’d chicken out now.
She took one last steadying breath and hopped up on the table, sending a silent thank you to the heavens she had put on cute lacy underwear. Not that it mattered if Sara thought her underwear was cute, because it didn’t.
“Okay, left or right?” Sara questioned as she came back into the makeshift room, a print out in her hand.
“Um.” Ava hesitated again. Spontaneous decision making wasn’t her strong suit. She liked lists, and research, and plans.
Sara rubbed the bridge of her nose, letting out another sigh. “You a side sleeper?”
“Yes.”
“Which side do you prefer to sleep on?”
Ava’s brow furrowed, she had never really thought about that before. “Left, I guess.”
“So, right it is.”
Ava frowned. She couldn’t argue with that logic.
She followed Sara’s instructions to lay on her belly and adjusted herself as comfortably as she could on the table. She watched as Sara organized the ink and supplies and then wandered to the sink to wash her hands, and don latex gloves before settling in her seat. She felt the cold press of a cloth on her back just above her pantyline then the stencil being pressed to her skin.
“How’s that?” Sara asked, motioning to a mirror in the corner.
Ava rolled to the side so she could see her back in the reflection and couldn’t help her surprise. She didn’t hate it. “It looks good.”
“Need to go down or up? Over? Remember the watercolor is going to make it a little bigger.”
“No, I think it’s good.”
“Okay. Then here we go.” Sara continued as she grabbed one of the towels from the basket under the table and tucked it into the waistband of Ava’s underwear, the smell of detergent and bleach wafting around her. “Let me know if you need a minute or if you’re going to sneeze or something. But this shouldn’t take long.”
“Okay,” Ava replied, her body tensing at the sound of Sara testing the needle.
“Try to relax,” Sara murmured, her gloved fingers ghosting over Ava’s skin, causing it to pucker in gooseflesh.
Ava let out the breath she was holding and pillowed her head on her folded arms.
A small yelp left her lips as the needle made contact with her skin the first time and she heard Sara’s soft chuckle.
“You know your phone has been lighting up nonstop.” Sara told her over the buzz of the needle.
“Yeah, it’s my friends. They don’t think I’ll actually go through with it. The tattoo.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because I’m not exactly known for my spontaneity, plus it kind of isn’t by choice. I lost a bet.”
The needle paused. “You’re getting a tattoo on a bet?”
Ava tilted her head so she could see the incredulous expression on Sara’s face. “In my defense I didn’t think I’d lose. I never lose at poker.”
Sara sighed, shaking her head again, before motioning for Ava to lay back down. “At least you’re not drunk.”
“Nope, not tonight. But I can guarantee they all are and they’ll be the ones to regret it in the morning. Our flight back to DC leaves at dawn.”
“DC, huh?”
“Quantico, actually. We just graduated and are all getting our assignments.”
“Impressive. Any idea where you’ll end up?”
“Not yet. I didn’t get my top choice, so it doesn’t really matter anymore.” Ava replied glumly, forcing her brain to focus on the words rather than the pain.
The buzzing stopped again, and Ava felt the relief of a cold cloth against her skin. “First part is done.”
“That wasn’t too bad.” Ava replied in surprise.
“Nope, but I’ll warn you the color hurts a little more.”
“Of course it does.” Ava groaned, her head flopping back down on her arms.
“I can stop here, it looks fine as it is, and you got your tattoo.” Sara reasoned.
“No, it’s fine. If I’m doing this, I’m doing it all the way.”
“Fair enough.”
Ava laid patiently as Sara etched some random marks on her skin, and then watched as she went over to the counter and lined up some colors.
“Shit,” Sara cursed when she accidentally knocked one of the small cups of ink onto the floor. “Sorry, just a minute.”
“It’s fine.” Ava replied, watching as Sara reached up to the cabinet to grab out some cleaning supplies, giving Ava a perfect view of a tattoo on Sara’s left rib cage, the one not covered in the weird black tattoo. A bold black semicolon with a watercolor splatter of blue, pink and purple busting out its edges.
Sara’s eyes met hers through the mirror in the corner, shooting her a smirk that told Ava she had been caught staring. Ava cleared her throat, quickly looking away, her cheeks burning.
Sara moved the colors to a small tray and settled back down in her seat once the mess was cleaned up. Neither of them talked as Sara etched the bursts of color into her skin, and Ava forced herself to keep breathing, her hands curling into fists under her cheek. To say the color hurt “a little more” was the understatement of the century.
“Okay, done.”
“Fuck.” Ava ground out forcing her body to relax.
Sara shot her a smile as Ava swung her legs off the side of the table and sat up. “Oh, come on, it couldn’t have been that bad, Agent Sharpe.”
Ava could feel tears that had been threatening to fall all night gathering in her eyes, her chest growing tight. She sucked in a shaky breath, before exhaling, words spilling out unfiltered along with it. “That’s the first time anyone has called me that. This has honestly been a pretty shitty night. I came here for the weekend with my friends to celebrate graduating, and after losing that post, and getting dumped, and losing that damn bet, I didn’t feel at all like celebrating anymore. Not to mention the fact that my parents couldn't even be bothered to show up for graduation in the first place. Not even a phone call. But hearing that just made me feel better. That, and this.” She continued turning around so she could see the tattoo in the mirror. “It looks really good.”
“Of course it looks good. I did it.” Sara replied with a wink that made her nose crinkle adorably.
“Cocky.”
“I prefer confident. It’s a necessity in this line of work.” Sara motioned for Ava to turn around and wiped down the tattoo one more time before pasting a large bandage over it. “Leave the bandage on for a couple hours, try for loose fitting pants for a couple days. Use unscented lotion or diaper rash ointment on it until it heals and no scratching.”
“Got it.”
Sara stripped off her gloves and opened the curtain while Ava gingerly buttoned her pants and picked up her belongings before walking to the front of the shop.
“It’s poison by the way.”
“What?” Ava turned startled.
“My tattoo.” Sara continued as she tapped on the iPad on the counter. “There is so much darkness in this world. Anxiety, depression, abuse, neglect, aggression, drugs, alcohol, political discord, war, famine, disease. It’s easy to get bogged down by it all. To let it poison you.” Sara paused, looking up to lock her blue eyes with Ava’s, before pulling up her shirt, revealing her bra-less chest and pierced nipples, the tendril of the tattoo curling up her sternum between the valley of her breasts but stopping just short of her heart. “It’s a reminder to never let the darkness of the world poison my heart.”
Ava swallowed hard, her brain caught up both processing the words and the wholy perfect sight in front of her.
“One hundred.” Sara continued, letting go of her shirt, to flip the screen around to face Ava, her shirt falling back into place.
“Right.” Ava whispered, clearing her throat which had gone bone dry, and pulling her card out of her wallet.
“My point,” Sara continued, wandering around the counter once the payment had processed. “Is that you had a shitty night, and by the sounds of your parents, probably a few shitty points growing up. But…” Sara leaned in dangerously close, one hand raising up to tuck an errant lock of hair behind Ava’s ear, as the other one tucked something into her back pocket. “You are a beautiful person, and you deserve better than people who don’t appreciate you for exactly who you are. Don’t let the world poison you, Ava Sharpe.”
Ava was back in her hotel room by the time she snapped out of her daze, and remembered to check her pocket. She could still feel the warmth of Sara’s breath on her cheek, the whisper of her fingertips on her skin. The freshly bruised skin on her hips burned and tugged, but the adrenaline coursing through her veins had dulled it to a manageable ache.
Her fingers scraped against a sharp edge of cardstock and she pulled out a business card for Legends, Ink. She traced the swirly script, a small smile playing at her lips when she turned it over to see a message scrawled in hurried print on the back.
If you ever find yourself in Star City again, Agent Sharpe Ava. 555-655-4212.
“Ava! Ava guess what!” Nora cried as she burst through the door of the hotel room, Nate, Ray, and Gary piling in after her, the group teetering, and clinging to each other as they barely managed to not fall on the floor. “Star City! You got Star City with me and Nate!”
Ava smiled at her pile of drunken friends before looking back down at the card, the smile widening until a laugh burst past her lips.
No, the poison wouldn’t get her. She had an antidote.