Chapter Text
Lucy loved Halloween. She always had, but these past few years, the holiday seemed to have a little extra magic to it. In her day-to-day life, she was Lucy Chen, 26 years old, grad school dropout, disappointment to her parents, and bartender at a trendy, upscale restaurant despite having a bachelor’s in psychology. On Halloween, however, she could be anyone she wanted or no one at all. The latter was the option she’d chosen tonight, as this was her first costume with a mask.
“If the mask is bothering you that much, ditch it for the night!” her best friend, Rachel, encouraged.
Lucy ran her fingers under the fabric near her cheekbones, trying to adjust it more comfortably. “I can’t,” she whined. “The mask is the whole point of the costume!”
“You know, you could’ve just been Elena. You already look hot, but we could’ve changed history with a long white dress.”
“But Zorro is a defender of civilians! A servant of the people!” Lucy smoothed her hands over the tiered ruffles of her dress skirt. “I can be all of that, and look hot enough to change history.”
Rachel held her hands up in surrender and then poured a shot of tequila into a sparkly shot glass for herself. Before she could finish setting the bottle back down, Lucy swiped the glass, draining the contents in one gulp.
“Hey!” Rachel protested. “I thought Zorro wasn’t a thief!”
“She is when people question her costume choices.”
Her friend rolled her eyes to pour herself another drink. “So when’s your surprise for Lena getting here?”
Lena was the owner of the house and the event planner of the group. She’d poured her heart and soul into planning this party, and Lucy figured she deserved a reward- a steamy reward that she and the rest of their friend group could watch her enjoy with both amusement and minor jealousy.
“Around midnight, I think!” Lucy replied. “And Lena still has no idea, so don’t tell anyone! I don’t want it to get back to her.”
“My lips are sealed,” Rachel chirped, dragging her pinched fingers across her lips to drive the point home. “How will you know when it’s him? What’s his costume?”
Lucy’s grin grew devious. She took a long pull from the straw in her own drink. “Well, what does Lena love more than a man in uniform?”
As if Tim’s day could get any worse, he and his boot just had to be assigned the night shift on Halloween. Officer Greaves wasn’t a bad cop by any means- he followed protocol and orders to a T, but his social skills needed work. He was fine in a fight, but any verbal altercation that needed de-escalation was not where the rookie needed to be yet.
At around 11:30 pm, they’d gotten a noise complaint about a Halloween party next door to the caller. This was how he ended up parked outside a large house with a front yard littered with solo cups and discarded accessories (or entire garments) of various costumes. He marched up to the house, Greaves trailing behind, and knocked at the entrance. “LAPD,” Tim called, raising his voice over the booming music he could hear behind the door.
It wasn’t long before the door opened, and a pretty young woman with electric green contacts and braids waxed into snakelike shapes stood before him. “Are you the owner of the house?” he asked her.
“You’re early. Lou!” Medusa called over her shoulder. “He’s here!”
Tim watched as the bodies inside moved around someone making their way to the doorway. When the crowd parted in front of him, he saw it was a short, curvy woman, dressed like some kind of… pirate… bandit. It didn’t matter what she was dressed as, she looked incredible, and by the smirk on her lips as she approached, he figured she knew it. Her wide-brimmed black hat adorned a thick braid that sat on her collarbone, and she wore a simple black mid-thigh length dress with a corset cinching her waist. She accessorized with a long black cape that hung as low as the dress did, fingerless leather gloves that covered from her elbows to her hands, one of which held a realistic-looking fake sword. Despite being committed to his marriage, Tim couldn’t help but drag his eyes down her legs and the fishnet tights hanging on for dear life over her thick, tanned thighs. His appraisal stopped at her shoes- a short pair of boots with a slight heel, granting her a few extra inches of height. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of disappointment that her costume required a mask, because he suspected the top half of her face was as beautiful as the bottom, a smile spreading across her plump, heart-shaped lips.
“Mm, LA’s finest indeed, ” she breathed, and he could detect the small slur in her words. “Is there a problem, officer?”
Tim cleared his throat, recalibrating his brain back into cop (and committed husband) mode. “We were sent here about a noise complaint. Are you the owner of the house, ma’am?”
The drunk woman’s gaze roamed over Tim’s body from head to toe as she dragged her tongue over her lips, a movement he did not fully track with his eyes.“Why, no, officer, the owner of the house is inside. I’ll show you to her.” She turned to Medusa to whisper, “Go find her. I’m a little jealous, so get her here before I start without her.” Before he could question, she beckoned for him to follow.
The dancing, chatting crowd made way for Tim and the pirate bandit until they got to the center of the house’s living room. “Just wait here,” the woman said. “She’ll be here any minute.”
After a couple more minutes, the woman got restless and peered around the house, until she spotted Medusa making her way back through the crowd. “Rach!” she cried. “Did you find Lena?”
“No,” she replied, exasperated. “The stoners in the kitchen said they saw her head upstairs with Harris.”
“ Ugh,” she groaned. “She’s hooking up with Harris again?” She pinched her nose bridge between her fingertips. “I swear, I’m gonna kill her.”
“So… what do we do with him?” Medusa, or Rach, assumed ‘Rachel’, asked, looking at Tim.
The bandit released her nose bridge, her focus landing on Tim’s chest, slowly trailing up to his face in a way that could only be described as predatory. Tim knew he should’ve felt discomfort, but her brown eyes peering into his behind her mask rooted him to his spot, curious and needing to hear what she was going to say next.
“Well, I paid for him.” What? She turned over her shoulder to call to the party, “ EVERYONE, THE STRIPPER’S HERE!”
WHAT?
Before Tim could think to protest, the beginnings of a sensual techno song boomed from the speakers, the light colors around him emitting lower light, darker colors circling the room. The crowd screamed and scurried to gather around him and the masked woman. The first thing she did was rip his badge from his chest, sticking the metal between her teeth. If the music and crowd weren’t so loud, the lights hadn’t obscured her from view so much, and he wasn’t married, that might have been the hottest thing he’d seen in years.
“Ma’am,” he started, reaching for his badge, but she dodged him. Whatever he was going to say died in his throat when she crowded his space, quickly undoing the first few buttons of his uniform shirt.
She plucked his body cam off of his sternum, turning the little box-shaped object over in her hands. “The uniform is so realistic!” she shouted over the crowd, her speech obscured by both the alcohol in her system and his badge in her mouth.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” he started again, as she took it out to stick it into one of her gloves. Then the fingers of her left hand were on the side of his neck, the rest of her hand covered by leather, and his sentence escaped him again.
The first half of the buttons were undone by her quick right hand, and she pulled the top of his uniform open to reveal his white undershirt.
“What kind of agency has their performers show up in this much clothing?” she mused aloud.
“ Ma’am! I am not-”
“RIP IT OFF OF HIM!” someone in the crowd screamed.
The bandit’s eyes widened, and her smile turned downright devilish. After a quick scan of his uniform, and with the added help of someone now tugging his shirt taut from behind, she reached up to the seam of his sleeve and pulled with all of her strength, the rip of fabric exposing his pectoral still covered by his undershirt. The sound and drag of her knuckles over his chest snapped him out of his slight daze of shock, confusion, and slight arousal he couldn’t quite admit to himself.
“ Ma’am!” he said, closing his hand around her wrist gently but firmly, forcing her to look up at his face. “I am not a stripper! I am an officer with the Los Angeles Police Department!”
Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion before realization made her eyes bug out. The realization soon faded to extreme guilt before she turned from him. “Guys!” she shouted.
The crowd seemed to take that as an indication that they were now invited to participate, and they all moved toward the pair. She backed up against him, her back hitting his chest, her arms spread out to her sides as if to shield him. “Guys, he’s not a stripper!”
It was too loud for her to be heard, the crowd too eager to get their hands on Tim to let anything distract from their goal. He began to back up, laying a hand over the bandit’s stomach to keep her close in an instinctively protective move that the surrounding people might have noticed if they hadn’t been so inebriated. Together, the two backed up through the room, yelling at approachers, bumping into people behind them, and whacking away hands that got too close to either of them. Despite the facts that he was horribly outmatched, and the drunk civilian in front of him was the first to put hands on him, somehow, he felt safe in her protection.
Tim’s shoe rolled on an empty beer bottle, almost causing him to slip and he automatically pulled at the woman’s waist to regain his balance. She stumbled with him for just a moment, before standing up perfectly straight, her arms back at her sides. “STOP THE MUSIC!” she bellowed, freezing everyone nearby, including Tim. Moments later, the music cut off, leaving the room filled with murmurs, along with occasional whoops and hollers. “THIS GUY ISN’T A STRIPPER, HE’S A REAL COP.”
There was quiet for a moment. Steadily, people turned to whisper to each other, some on the outskirts of the crowd cutting and running. However, those closest to the two barely shuffled around, continuing to eye Tim with expressions ranging from fear to anger. “SO I NEED EVERYONE TO BACK UP. FIVE BIG STEPS, OKAY, GIVE THE MAN SOME ROOM.”
Tim was aware that he probably should have been the one to find his voice, but he couldn’t help but marvel at the woman’s ability to command a situation. The partygoers staggered back to give them some space, and Tim exhaled. He wasn’t the only one relieved; the bandit’s head fell back onto his shoulder, her eyes closed behind her mask as she took a deep breath.
Despite the room still being mostly dark, Tim could see the fear and regret sink into her eyes when she opened them. Slowly, his hand fell from her stomach, and she took a step forward before turning around to face him. He could tell by her slow blinks and the way she nervously chewed her lip that she was still a bit buzzed, but had sobered up enough that she was fully aware of the situation. Before he could say anything, she turned and ran. He tried to follow, but her small frame was better for maneuvering through the crowd than his. By the time whatever lights they’d planned for the strip show were replaced by regular ones that made the whole room visible, she was gone.
Lucy was sitting in the large tub in Lena’s guest bathroom, still trying to make her body as small as possible despite how long it had been, when there was a knock at the door.
“Lucy?” Rachel called from the other side, and Lucy exhaled in relief to hear her voice. “Are you in there?”
Even though no one could see her, she couldn’t bring herself to poke her head out any higher than the rim of the bathtub. “Are they gone?” she called back.
“No,” Rachel said mournfully. “The cop is asking for you.”
“Which one?” Lucy had hoped maybe she meant the quiet one she’d barely noticed behind his handsome partner.
“You know which one.”
Guess after all the night had brought, the universe still didn’t want to throw Lucy a bone.
Lucy was tempted to just stay in the bathtub and tell Rachel to say she’d left the party, but then realized she didn’t want to add evading arrest to her impending charges. So she headed to the stairs, and the movement caught the cop’s attention as he waited in the entryway, party guests coming and going in front of him. He tracked her movements as she descended the stairs and she found herself regretting how much of her costume she’d ditched in the bathroom. She’d left her cape, sword, and corset, needing to breathe, but she most regretted leaving her hat. The mask being the only thing hiding her appearance made her feel much more vulnerable to the cop’s piercing gaze. Finally, she landed at the bottom of the stairs and crossed the foyer to meet him.
“Before you arrest me for assault on a police officer,” Lucy started, staring at the ground and sticking her arms out in defense. “Please know that I did order a stripper for my friend and I did pay extra so she could touch him. Also, I ordered a cop costume, because that’s her thing. It was also really loud in here, and I was really drunk, and I’m still drunk now, and even though those last couple things aren’t an excuse on a personal level, those are all important factors to consider.”
By the time she finished her panicked ramble to look at him, her breath heavy, his lips were spread into a smile. Then, he started to chuckle. “ That’s how you sound when you’re still drunk?”
She wanted to laugh with him, but she was too scared of his decision to do much but blink at him.
He seemed to see the fear on her face, because he stopped laughing, tilting his head with a softness in his eyes. “Ma’am, I’m not going to arrest you for an honest mistake.”
Lucy exhaled, feeling the physical toll of her stress lift from her. “You’re not?”
“No. We found your friend, we’re already citing her for the noise complaint.”
Lucy turned around to see her friend, Lena, talking to the other cop, and she knew her friend well enough to tell from a distance that she was trying to flirt. The other cop, though shy, seemed responsive to the attention. Better than Harris!
“Wait, but…” Lucy paused to turn back toward the taller cop. “If you’re not gonna arrest me, why were you looking for me?”
“You ran away,” he stated simply. “I figured you might feel pretty crappy after what happened, and I wanted to let you know there’s no hard feelings before I left.”
Lucy’s heart skipped a beat. This guy definitely had more important things to do as a cop on Halloween night, but he found it important to find her so she didn’t feel bad. She nervously ran a hand through her hair, which had been released from its braid in the bathroom and now flowed down her back. She caught him watching her hand and put it back to her side, balling it into a fist.
“Can you wait here a second? I wanna get something for you really quick.”
He furrowed his eyebrows for a second before nodding. She ran once more up the stairs into Lena’s bedroom, entering the code into the small lock box that held their core friend group’s purses. She fiddled in hers until she found her emergency pack, which held a small sewing kit. After applying an extra swipe of lip gloss, she locked everything back up and left to meet the cop.
He once again kept his attention on her face as she approached, and she lifted the sewing kit next to it. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion again as he registered it.
“Obviously, I don’t have time to sew it up,” she said, gesturing to the rip in his uniform shirt that she’d caused. She dug around in the sewing kit until she found a small safety pin, which she then extended to him. She stifled a giggle as he fumbled to pin his shirt back together, but his fingers were too thick to fasten the delicate pin. “You have every reason to say no, but can I try?”
But he didn’t say no. He glanced up and nodded with a small smile. She stepped into his space, more tentatively than she had the first time, and held the hanging fabric to his chest until he let it go.
“You know, I’m about to go back to my station, and they’ll give me a new shirt anyway.”
Lucy shook her head. “You still shouldn’t be riding around with a ripped uniform. It’s demeaning.”
After fastening his pin into place, she meant to back away, but she turned to look up at him and froze. His soft eyes were back, and maybe it was the lingering effects of the alcohol, but they looked so much prettier up close.
“I was having a pretty bad day,” he whispered like it was a secret.
“Sorry for making it worse,” she countered, her stabilizing hand still laid over his heart.
The handsome cop shook his head at this, his smile growing until it took up his whole face even without showing teeth. “You didn’t make it worse.”
“No?”
“Mm-mm.”
“That’s nice.”
The shatter of a beer bottle got both their attention, effectively dissipating the cloud around them. With one last tap on his chest, she backed up. He cleared his throat and appraised her work, smoothing his hand over the fabric until the white of his tee-shirt was only visible around the edges of her quick fix.
Obviously, when you meet a guy this handsome and this sweet, with whom you already feel this comfortable and safe, you want his number, or at least his name. But Lucy had learned the hard way far too many times to check his left hand and, yup. Classic, silver band around his ring finger. Buzzkill. At least checking had saved her from more embarrassment tonight.
“Oh, um….” She reached into the top of her glove, retrieving his cold, metal badge. “You’re probably gonna need this.”
He accepted it, eyeing it curiously as if he’d almost forgotten it, before fastening it back to his shirt. “Are you gonna be alright?” he asked her.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”
“Remember to hydrate, especially if you’re not done drinking. And keep electrolytes nearby like Gatorade or Pedialyte.”
Lucy rolled her eyes at the man. “I’m a big girl, officer, I know how to stay safe when I drink.”
“Can’t blame me for doing my job.”
Before she could retort, his partner came up from behind Lucy. “Ready to go, sir?” he asked, moving to stand outside the threshold.
With one more long look at Lucy, her cop nodded his head at his partner. “Let’s go, boot.”
Lucy stood in the doorway as the pair walked back to their patrol vehicle, but she didn’t expect her cop to turn around one last time. “You take care, okay?”
“You too,” she said back with a soft smile. “Be safe.”
“Keep the noise down.” With that and one more smile, he made the rest of his journey.
As she watched them drive away, another car pulled up in their spot, this one with a “Glory Be Adult Entertainment” advertising sticker plastered across both doors. Out came a tall, muscular man in an obviously fake cop uniform making his way to the front of the house. Lucy pulled out her phone to check the time. 11:56. She looked back into this man’s face and suppressed a frown that he wasn’t half as handsome as the real cop she’d just met.
“Is there a Lena Hawkins home by any chance?” the performer asked, dangling a pair of feathery pink handcuffs from his fingertips. “I’m here to arrest her. I hear she’d been bad.”
Yeah… Lucy was definitely not done drinking tonight.