First fic of the year. Aftershocks (K-Ville)
TITLE: Aftershocks
AUTHOR: happywriter06
FANDOM: K-Ville
CHARACTERS: Trevor Cobb, Ginger “Love Tap” LeBeau
RATING: PG
CATEGORY: Gen (AU)
WARNING: Spoilers for episode 6/AKA
SUMMARY: He feels like shit.
NOTES: My second fic for K-Ville. I wrote this after I saw AKA a few weeks back. I’m just getting around to posting it.
He feels like shit. She looked at him like she knew, like she could see right through him. He doesn’t know if that’s because it’s the cop training or the fact that they’ve slept together and shared things they only seem to do within the walls of his apartment - once at hers - and mostly at night.
Sitting on his couch with the beer bottle pressed against his forehead, he flinches at the sound of knocking at his door. He drags himself to the door, peering through the peephole. It’s her.
He opens the door, not bothering to greet her because the look on her face tells him she has no time for such niceties. She steps through the door and turns immediately on her heels, arms crossed and nose flaring slightly.
“You left before I could talk to you.”
“What’s there to talk about? I told everyone what happened.” He stands there hands on hips. He’s accepting her challenge. He knows he’s wrong but he’s not about to tell her the truth.
“Why do I feel like you aren’t telling us everything?” By the time she finishes, she’s that much closer, eyes never leaving his, willing him to break down and tell her what she thinks she already knows.
He drops his hands and his voice. “Love Tap, I’m sorry. I thought I had him but I didn’t. It happens.” He knows she knows that. That he isn’t the first cop to have ever lost a perp. That she isn’t the first person who wasn’t there to wonder what the hell happened.
She looks at him - eyes clear - then blinks. Her open eyes show the beginnings of unshed tears. He reaches for her, placing his hands on her upper arms. Her head drops, which he takes as his sign to pull her close.
He lets her cry. She’s nearly silent yet her body shakes, just slightly. And she doesn’t cry long. She pulls away, averting his gaze as she makes her way to the bathroom. They don’t mention it when she comes from the bathroom, no trace of anything save for slightly red eyes.
He didn’t think it was possible to feel lower than shit but he does.
***
The last thing he wants is company so he ignores the first set of knocks. Then the second. But not the third since they are followed by the sound of “Cobb, I know you’re in there. Open up.”
“Two visits in one week. What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he says, his annoyance evident in his voice as he leans against the open door.
She ignores his tone, stepping across the threshold.
“Do come in.” The door slams and he turns to find her staring at the empty beer bottles on his coffee table.
She turns to find him staring. “I watched you Cobb. With that girl. It was like you knew her.”
This time it’s him who ignores her, stepping to the fridge to grab another beer. He takes a long drink before telling her, “I didn’t know her.” He doesn’t even sound convincing to himself.
“Who reacts like that over someone they didn’t know?” She waits but he still doesn’t speak. “How did you know her?”
A defeated sigh escapes him. “I lived here before the storm.” She’s silent so he continues. “I’m originally from here. I knew the guy that hit Glue Boy and the girl that was killed. I wasn’t always cop material.” He’s not sure why he told her the truth. He blames it on the alcohol coursing through his veins. He has yet to feel numb.
“You two must’ve been close.”
“We were. But that was a long time ago.”
“Not that long ago judging by your reaction.” She watches as he shrugs and then takes another sip. “You can’t blame yourself if that’s what you’re doing. You chose to go straight. She didn’t.”
He wants to laugh but he thinks he might have forgotten how. It’s funny how you put something, someone behind you, forgetting about them, believing what’s done is done. And then they come back into your life and it’s like the first time you left.
“Right, because I hadn’t thought of that myself. Thanks for stopping by.” She doesn’t deserve the sarcasm but he can’t help it.
He turns at the feel of her hand on his right shoulder. She looks at him carefully, her eyes travelling down his face, down his chest until her eyes rest on his beer. She plucks it from his hand to take a sip of her own. Then she slowly backs away, telling him as she goes, “Get some sleep. You look like shit. Goodnight.”
Again, he wants to laugh because good nights have always been hard to come by. This time is no different.
AUTHOR: happywriter06
FANDOM: K-Ville
CHARACTERS: Trevor Cobb, Ginger “Love Tap” LeBeau
RATING: PG
CATEGORY: Gen (AU)
WARNING: Spoilers for episode 6/AKA
SUMMARY: He feels like shit.
NOTES: My second fic for K-Ville. I wrote this after I saw AKA a few weeks back. I’m just getting around to posting it.
He feels like shit. She looked at him like she knew, like she could see right through him. He doesn’t know if that’s because it’s the cop training or the fact that they’ve slept together and shared things they only seem to do within the walls of his apartment - once at hers - and mostly at night.
Sitting on his couch with the beer bottle pressed against his forehead, he flinches at the sound of knocking at his door. He drags himself to the door, peering through the peephole. It’s her.
He opens the door, not bothering to greet her because the look on her face tells him she has no time for such niceties. She steps through the door and turns immediately on her heels, arms crossed and nose flaring slightly.
“You left before I could talk to you.”
“What’s there to talk about? I told everyone what happened.” He stands there hands on hips. He’s accepting her challenge. He knows he’s wrong but he’s not about to tell her the truth.
“Why do I feel like you aren’t telling us everything?” By the time she finishes, she’s that much closer, eyes never leaving his, willing him to break down and tell her what she thinks she already knows.
He drops his hands and his voice. “Love Tap, I’m sorry. I thought I had him but I didn’t. It happens.” He knows she knows that. That he isn’t the first cop to have ever lost a perp. That she isn’t the first person who wasn’t there to wonder what the hell happened.
She looks at him - eyes clear - then blinks. Her open eyes show the beginnings of unshed tears. He reaches for her, placing his hands on her upper arms. Her head drops, which he takes as his sign to pull her close.
He lets her cry. She’s nearly silent yet her body shakes, just slightly. And she doesn’t cry long. She pulls away, averting his gaze as she makes her way to the bathroom. They don’t mention it when she comes from the bathroom, no trace of anything save for slightly red eyes.
He didn’t think it was possible to feel lower than shit but he does.
***
The last thing he wants is company so he ignores the first set of knocks. Then the second. But not the third since they are followed by the sound of “Cobb, I know you’re in there. Open up.”
“Two visits in one week. What do I owe the pleasure of this visit?” he says, his annoyance evident in his voice as he leans against the open door.
She ignores his tone, stepping across the threshold.
“Do come in.” The door slams and he turns to find her staring at the empty beer bottles on his coffee table.
She turns to find him staring. “I watched you Cobb. With that girl. It was like you knew her.”
This time it’s him who ignores her, stepping to the fridge to grab another beer. He takes a long drink before telling her, “I didn’t know her.” He doesn’t even sound convincing to himself.
“Who reacts like that over someone they didn’t know?” She waits but he still doesn’t speak. “How did you know her?”
A defeated sigh escapes him. “I lived here before the storm.” She’s silent so he continues. “I’m originally from here. I knew the guy that hit Glue Boy and the girl that was killed. I wasn’t always cop material.” He’s not sure why he told her the truth. He blames it on the alcohol coursing through his veins. He has yet to feel numb.
“You two must’ve been close.”
“We were. But that was a long time ago.”
“Not that long ago judging by your reaction.” She watches as he shrugs and then takes another sip. “You can’t blame yourself if that’s what you’re doing. You chose to go straight. She didn’t.”
He wants to laugh but he thinks he might have forgotten how. It’s funny how you put something, someone behind you, forgetting about them, believing what’s done is done. And then they come back into your life and it’s like the first time you left.
“Right, because I hadn’t thought of that myself. Thanks for stopping by.” She doesn’t deserve the sarcasm but he can’t help it.
He turns at the feel of her hand on his right shoulder. She looks at him carefully, her eyes travelling down his face, down his chest until her eyes rest on his beer. She plucks it from his hand to take a sip of her own. Then she slowly backs away, telling him as she goes, “Get some sleep. You look like shit. Goodnight.”
Again, he wants to laugh because good nights have always been hard to come by. This time is no different.