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Ramsey would kick himself in his own ass right now if his leg wasn't broken. He should have smelt that double cross a mile away, perhaps even from Tuesday, but his golden eye was blinded by temptation. If, and only in the clarity of hindsight he recognizes how big of an if “if” is, Ramsey had succeeded he would have bankrupted one of the slimiest, up and coming, rats on the coast and returned the cash to all people it was originally conned from, minus a small finder's fee of course. (Even the gerbil folk need to pay rent and eat).
Still, Ramsey was lucky. Ace Drake, the new sleaze on the block with an childishly fake name, hired “new talent” or as Ramsey likes to call them “amateur hour street thugs”. The goons went for the shins, back, and arms instead of the head for their first swings. Reflexively, Ramsey turned himself into gold and the henchmen freak out as they figure out they are fighting against one of the few men that survived an encounter with Ms. Salazar. While everyone else in the room was still frozen, Ramsey ran towards the biggest piece of meat in the room. One gilded punch and passed out enforcer later, the gang began to clear the room. It took all the will Ramsey could muster to not scream from the pain of his broken leg and bruised fist. After the room was emptied, he let down his Epithet, save his leg, to conserve energy. This is when he curses himself for not noticing the obvious earlier and starts to search the abandoned building.
Five minutes of scavenging did not turn up anything that Ramsey could use as a cane or splint, so he hobbled out with a briefcase half full of dollar bills with cut newspapers underneath as his leg dragged behind him. He kept walking home until he lost consciousness at the edge of Maple Street.
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It's 2:33 at night when Percy gets a call to investigate a homeless man sleeping on top of a briefcase. The dispatcher notes that the man has a metallic leg and suggests he might have been attacked by an Epithet user. Before ending the call, the voice wishes Percy to stay safe and she somehow hears him wink over the radio. It's 2:47 when she pulls up to Maple Street and spots a familiar silhouette. Percy almost trips herself as she rushes out of the car.
Percy kneels down and examines Ramsey, he stirs in pain as she accidentally touches various bruises, welts, and cuts. The female cops bites her lips as she tries to figure out how to handle this current situation. She decides to create some healing huts to cure the superficial wounds as she gathers materials to make a splint.
At first, Ramsey enjoys the sudden warmth and slight tingly feeling throughout his body, before jolting out of fear that his wounds reopened and that he's bleeding again. He jolts again as he begins to process the pain of his broken leg. As the stinging settles down, Ramsey slowly pries his eyes open. He spots what he kicked, a familiar tiny medieval style building and its creator.
“Good morning, Ramsey. I see your leg is broken, please let me aid you.” Percy says casually, but her eye contact feels fierce. Ramsey starts to feel even more uncomfortable as he notices the briefcase behind the blonde. He feels like a kid being caught stealing grandmom's cookies from a jar and wishes that any part of his body aside from his leg was broken so he can just run away. Ramsey stares at the ground and braces himself for the accusations of “continuing his criminal activities while on parole” and the promise that he “won't have such a comfy cell this time”.
“Remain still as I assem- make a splint. Please.” Percy asks as she kneels down and hovers over him.
“Can't ya just pop up one of your little huts to finish patching me up?” Ramsey cocks a red eyebrow but still avoids looking her in the eye.
“Only if you wish for my apothecaries to create a malunion. I need to properly align everything first.” Percy clarifies as she tightens the splint and Ramsey winces.
“Okay.” Ramsey looks away and kills the conversation.
A few minutes pass and Percy decides to break the silence. “I assume you were the one who gave the Dragon Gang, a good frightening earlier tonight. One of their men turned himself into police custody, he mentioned something about a man that could turn things into metal. I should have gathered it was you.” She pauses for a moment before continuing. “I wish you informed me of your activities. The force has been trying to bring down Ace Drake for months. We could have provided assistance.” There's a hint of some underlying emotion in her voice, but Ramsey can't quite figure what.
“No offense Perce, but if they're the type that can smell the boys in blue a mile away.” The injured man waves around his hand as he dismisses Percy's too late request.
“And you are the type who also gets smelt out by the boys, no offense.” Percy teases. “Police funding could help you get better disguises than false mustaches.”
“I had a wig too!” Ramsey tuts his finger at Percy and wonders when he started to look her in the eye again.
“I assume you looked great in it.” Percy deadpans and Ramsey is not sure if she's teasing or flirting with him. Or both. Ramsey starts to blush. Percy either doesn't notice it in the dim light or fails to comment. After Percy finishes the splint, she springs up a few more healing huts and sits down next to Ramsey. Percy isn't used to night shifts or having her apothecaries out long enough to reform bones, her tiredness is very apparent. She passes out right after the last bit of bone reemerges together. Her head falls on Ramsey's shoulder.
The conman debates whether to come clean, join the force, and pray that red tape and bribable judges don't stop him from doing all the good that he could do or to run away, risk the one good relationship in his life, but give those corrupt fat cats the true justice they deserve. Soft breath tickles his shoulder and Ramsey lets out a soft smile. He doesn't need to decide any of that tonight, he just needs to make sure Percy gets back to the station safe with a thumb drive full of evidence, a suitcase half full newspapers and nineteen fortieths full of cash, and maybe a little note with the number to his current burner phone with a heart sketched on the corner.