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Post by Deleted on Dec 1, 2013 22:23:51 GMT -5
New York was a place that Preston had hoped to avoid for at least the rest of his life. He'd had some bad experiences in the City that Never Sleeps, the least of which being a pretty shitty run-in with a few vetala. He'd managed to get arrested more than once, and had nearly ended up in prison on one of those occasions. All charges had been dropped, thankfully, except one. That had been a petty vandalism charge, and he'd been due to appear in court not even three days later, but the damn vetala pair he was hunting had caught wind of him and was on the run... again. So, thanking God for fake IDs and assumed identities, he'd fled with every intention of never going back. Unfortunately, these days a case was a case, and Illinois just happened to have something for him to deal with.
The plan was to get in, kill the skinwalker (or werewolf... he hadn't figured out the particular yet) that'd been causing problems, and get out. Unfortunately for him, the police were all over the place in the Cook County town, which tended to cause problems. Preston was no stranger to committing crimes, and with a shiny new FBI badge in one hand and a smile on his face, he took on yet another name for yet another day and tried to act like he was meant to be there. It had gone well enough until he'd been roped into heading down to the station house with some of the officers.
Eight hours of filling out paperwork he had absolutely no right to even touch and all Preston - currently under the guise of Peter Myrrh - could think about was getting a bite to eat. At the very least he had enough information and evidence to point towards his first assumption that whatever had attacked those old folk in their townhouse had been a skinwalker. Probably posing as their dog; he could understand the urge to bite the hand that fed you, but taking a heart in the meantime? That was just a bit much, wasn't it?
Heading out of the police station with a cup of watered down coffee in one hand and a cellphone in the other, Pres was about to heave a sigh of relief. He'd made it out without incident for once in his life - unfortunately luck didn't seem to want to keep going in his direction. He had just turned the corner to head towards his 'vette in the parking lot when he saw a familiar mop of blonde hair heading in his direction. He swanned, immediately dropping the coffee in favor of getting out of her line of sight as quickly as possible and with as few burns from the caffeinated drink as he was physically capable of.
He ducked behind a squad car, leaning against the door as he closed his eyes and swore under his breath. Of all people to run into, it had to be the same damn bail enforcement officer he'd skipped out on last time he was in town. All he could do now was sit and wait in hopes she hadn't seen him.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 2, 2013 16:53:13 GMT -5
The best days for Harley were her days off. She normally worked seven times a week, but since it was her uncle Liam’s birthday, she made him the exception to giving herself a freebie day. There was that and the unfortunate role her father gave her to keep Liam away from his favorite bar once he was off duty. Harley wouldn’t have minded it if she had plans on how to keep him busy, but she didn’t seem to have an imagination today because she was fresh out of ideas for this particular role.
Walking out of her apartment, Harley started to dial Reid’s number. If anyone could give her ideas it was him. However, he wasn’t picking up which meant he was passed out or occupied with something. Shoving her phone in her back jean pocket, she made her way out of the apartment building and straight into her beat up black 2002 BMW she never really took care of. It had a few run-ins with a couple of cars and one pole that came out of nowhere (at least to her it did) and most likely needed an oil change. She knew it was high time for her brother to take a look under the hood, but today wasn’t going to be the day for that.
She had a few errands she needed to run before being on Liam duty and one of those errands was only a few blocks from her apartment. Technically she wasn’t working, but it didn’t stop her from doing small errands related to her job. Tomorrow she would be starting on her missing person’s case and wanted all the files related to it. She had already retrieved public files related to the case and now needed the private files the police station her uncle works at, promised her.
Harley wasn’t much in a hurry like she usually was and walked at a casual, normal pace making her very observant at her surroundings. She noticed the almost empty parking lot where her car was now parked and the lack of badges present. It wasn’t out of the norm for there to not be any police officers around the parking lot. Police officers don’t hang in groups in a parking lot or stay that long in one, so when a guy ducks a bit too fast for her liking, she’s on alarm. The joke would be on her if he wasn’t really ducking and maybe fell. She couldn’t really tell since it happened so fast and it didn’t help her attention was in another direction. Her peripheral vision wasn’t that great, either.
Putting her hand on her taser gun that was attached to her hip, but not quite taking it out, she stood beside the other side of the squad car where the man disappeared behind. Seeing nothing but the top of his head, she made her way to his side of the vehicle cautiously until she fully saw the man as he leaned against the door of the squad car. Loosening her grip on her taser gun, she sighed. The guy looked like an FBI agent from her view point but who really knew. He seemed harmless.
She looked him over and gave him a confused look. Of course the sense of familiarity dawned on her the moment she saw his face, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Somehow she knew they had crossed paths before. Harley started to look around for any signs of other people he could be trying to avoid since he didn’t look hurt and she realized she was the only one. Was this guy trying to avoid her? Immediately her hand went back on her taser gun, but hopefully it wasn’t that obvious to him that she didn’t trust him regardless if he was an FBI agent or not.
“If you were trying to dodge me; well you failed.” She said shrugging trying to act nonchalant and then asked curiously, “Are you trying to avoid me?”
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Post by Deleted on Dec 2, 2013 20:45:26 GMT -5
The footsteps that approached soon after Preston had ducked down told him that his plan hadn't worked. Fingers raked through dark curls, tugging at the roots for a moment as he closed his eyes, breathed out softly, and anticipated the woman's arrival. He'd had a haircut since the last time he'd seen her, so maybe, just maybe, he could get out of this with a little luck and his usual allure.
She moved around to his side of the car and he let his gaze flicker up her body, eyes locked on the hand resting on the taser. He'd been on the wrong side of one of those too many times. It took everything Preston had not to get immediately defensive as he slowly pulled himself up from the ground, hopefully using his height as an intimidation tactic. Though, maybe trying to intimidate a girl with a taser wasn't such a good idea.
Fortunately for Preston, common sense wasn't his forte. He was brash and cold with very little care for anything but himself... and that certainly explained the next thing to come out of his mouth. Any hope at allure vanished when he spoke, fingers fishing out the badge in his pocket to flash it at her, should he need to. "I was, actually, but turns out you're not who I thought you were. I thought you were an old girlfriend but... at second glance? Not hot enough... and your ass is definitely too small." He looked smug at best as he gave her yet another once over, holding his false badge and identification out to her.
"Agent Peter Myrrh of the FBI. Working on the murder case that happened with those two old folk in the suburbs. Now if you'd just take your hand off that taser we can both be on our merry way, no harm done." It seemed she didn't recognize him, and he was glad of that, so the sooner he managed to scoot away the better. Confident that she'd gotten a good look at his so called badge, he closed up the case and tucked it back into the inside pocket of his suit. "Are you satisfied, ma'am?" He asked, taking a step back and preparing to make a run for it should the need arise.
Knowing his luck? It probably would. The problem Preston ran into with being a hunter had little to do with anything more than his utter lack of tact. He could scuffle with the best of the undead, take down a host of vampires, demons, rugaru, and what have you but police? People in general? Forget it. Pres and his ego had a terrifyingly bad habit of digging holes that were easy to fall into and hard to get out of.
Actually, thinking about it, that probably more than explained why his arrest history was as long as it was. If there was ever a competition for saying the wrong thing - or the rudest - Preston would probably win by a long shot. Personally, his blunt nature was precisely what he liked most about himself.
Well, after his dashing good looks, of course.
Looking casual with his hands shoved deep into the pockets, Preston rolled his weight onto the balls of his feet and back onto his heels, looking bored with the entire scenario and ready to get out.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 2, 2013 23:31:03 GMT -5
Once he stood up, Harley realized what she was in for. If this guy wasn’t an FBI agent or any anyone with a badge, she had a feeling he’d be one hard guy to take down if it came down to it. He was taller than her, nicely built from what the suit allowed her to see that is, and he looked kind of frightening with handsome features; not to mention the mouth he had on him.
If this was any ordinary guy – or more like someone who skipped bail, she’d enjoy tasering the hell out of him. As much as she wanted to frown at his assessment of her, she couldn’t or else she’d lose the advantage – that’s if there was one to be had. Instead she did the next big thing; shrugging as though she didn’t care or that his insults didn’t hit a nerve even though it did. At this point mentally strangling him was definitely on her mind as she also looked him over trying not to give way to the fact that she was somewhat annoyed with him already. The nerve on this guy, she thought to herself.
Once his badge was out, she looked it over. Harley has only ever seen and FBI badge a handle full of time in her life, so she wasn’t an expert at telling whether it was false or not. Normally someone’s confidence about showing a federal badge was enough for Harley to back down and move along, but something clicked and made her put two and two together. The reason for the familiarity was the badge. The picture on the badge was almost identical to a photo I.D or driver’s license (honestly she couldn’t remember and for all she knew, it was another badge) of a guy she never got the luxury of catching who skipped bail awhile back. The rudeness helped in the realization since she remembered the guy being mouthy, too.
There was no way this guy was going to one up her again. To not give herself away at that exact moment, she loosened her grip once he asked her to and put her hand at her side deliberately keeping it inches from her taser gun. Her adrenaline kicked in as it usually did when she was about to engage in what she knew, was running and hopefully catching the guy. He was more than unpredictable and she knew as soon as she called him out on his bullshit, she’d have to run after him or she would get lucky and catch him without much difficulty. Harley hoped for the latter.
“No, I’m afraid I am not very satisfied Agent Peter Myrrh of the FBI,” she started with a disappointed look, ignoring the boredom that was rolling off him in waves. “I have this nagging feeling that that badge and name aren’t real. And I am sure you know it’s a federal offense to impersonate an officer of the law. Right?”
And Harley silently betted there was no murder of any kind, either. Just something these guys say to get out of a rough jam like this one. After calling him out, she put her hand right back on her taser gun to await the inevitable.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 7, 2013 11:53:50 GMT -5
Well shit. Preston wasn't exactly pleased with this turn of events. He looked around, heart hammering in frantic anticipation of his next action. This was New York - he had been born and raised here, despite his distaste for the city, and he knew it inside and out. Still, with a woman with a taser staring him down? Suddenly it felt a bit more daunting to be in the Big Apple he called home. He scowled bitterly at her assertion that the badge wasn't real, made to take a step forward, and darted in the opposite direction, head turned back over his shoulder to keep an eye on her. If he could just get to his car across the lot, he could probably make it out of here.
That didn't seem plausible, though, because a band of officers were making their way through the parking lot. They were chatting idly and looked unperturbed enough, but that no doubt wouldn't last once they caught wind of their supposed new FBI buddy running from some bail enforcement officer. Preston barrelled through them, yelling something along the lines of she's crazy! In an effort to distract for just a minute as he disappeared through their mass and re-emerged on the other side, shedding the jacket of his suit like a second, totally unnecessary skin.
He was tugging suspenders off his body next, still running and racing to get away. He needed a change of clothes. If he could find one drastic enough, he might have just enough time to figure out another way out of town. He could send a buddy in to pick u the car if need be but... Oh... the idea of leaving that corvette again? At a police station no less? It wasn't pretty. He could feel the weight of his gun heavily resting against his hip and clutched it tightly. No. She was a person, and he wasn't about to get his ass killed over some skipped bail because he decided to fire at someone's head in an effort to escape. That would be more stupid than his usual brand of misadventure.
He glanced over his shoulder again, frantic now because she was no longer in his sights. She'd been there a moment ago - what had happened? Where had she disappeared to? Something told Preston that she hadn't stopped the chase and that this definitely wasn't the end of this rodeo by any means. He just hoped it didn't have as shocking of an ending as he anticipated.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 7, 2013 13:48:59 GMT -5
This wasn’t a day she had planned out. Harley knew that things happened unexpectedly in New York City, but running into someone who had skipped bail awhile back was just plain old luck. Though, it was bad she forgot he existed till he was put in front of her. She had every intention of catching him at this point, but the moment he ran, she froze for almost five seconds before running after him, giving him a perfectly good start.
Harley ran after him like her life depended on it, pulling her taser gun out in the process. No way was she going to let this guy get away. For a moment, she lost sight of him. He had disappeared in the group of cops who were looking after him, then in her direction. Harley smiled at them as she went by. She knew them of course; this was a precinct she often visited since her uncle worked and practically lived there. Running backwards, now facing them, she winked and casually greeted them, “Boys.” After shrugging and saying something along the lines of it being just another day on the job, she turned back around to pursue her chase; her little stunt earning the guy more of a head start.
She knew her uncles co-workers wouldn’t interfere in her pursuit and the only thing she was worried about was him getting away. Deciding to cut the guy off, she ducked and ran behind a few cop cars to give the illusion of disappearing on him. That is when she finally noticed he was taking off his clothes or at least looked like it. Even though Harley found that odd, she continued running and even picked up speed when she noticed they were nearing the street. It was something she wanted to avoid. Even though she didn't know what his car looked like, she had to assume he had one in her line of work and feared he may get to it before she got to him. If he did get to it, there was no way she'd get to hers in time. Her car was after all, a long ways behind her.
Nope, she was going to get him before anything like that happened. Only a few feet from reaching the streets, Harley made her move. Slowing down to almost speed walking, she aimed without any hesitation, pulled the trigger on her taser gun and watched as the electrical wire shot out and latched on to the back of his nice shirt.
“Gotcha!” She exclaimed with a smug smile on her face. Harley really did love tasering people who clearly deserved it and this guy deserved it.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 17, 2013 18:06:43 GMT -5
When Harley leapt out in front of him, Preston hadn’t had enough time to turn and run. The wires connected, sharp barbs piercing his skin and bringing with them the initial waves of pain. He could feel the blood immediately seeping around them and out onto his skin, staining his now already ruined shirt. What came next was even worse, though, and prepared as he may have been it didn’t make it suck any less. Preston had been tazed before, several times, but it wasn’t something he ever got used to. Anyone who said they’d gotten used to the literal shock of huge amounts of electricity was both completely and totally numb or a huge liar… in most cases it would be the latter.
The first shock stung more than anything, but as Preston instinctively yanked to get away from the pain he only managed to rip the metal into his skin and worsen the pain of the second wave. He howled, knees buckling of their own volition and the inability to keep himself standing, all control of his muscles gone. He collapsed onto the cold sidewalk of New York City, the crowd parted but still moving. Nothing ever really frazzled New Yorkers anymore. They were simply quick to adapt to the idea of a perpetrator being tailed by a woman with a tazer and adjusted accordingly.
Preston could feel wet coldness seeping through the pants, no doubt a mix of rain water or the spilled starbucks from the cup of a bitchy executive woman on her way to a meeting that started fifteen minutes prior. He hissed as he pulled himself into the fetal position as soon as his body was able to move again. He closed his eyes, biting back the howls of agony that wanted to rip through him. God, he hated looking weak and at this moment? He most certainly did. Squirming and trying to work the feeling back into his fingers and toes, Preston took a shallow breath and rolled onto his side, pressing one hand down against the pavement as he tried to push himself up.
“Get this fucking thing off me!” He barked, voice demanding as he realized he couldn’t run from this girl with her damn weapon stuck on him. That would not only be a hassle but it would be stupid; she’d just shock him again. “You fucking crazy bitch! What the Hell!” Of course he knew he’d warranted the assault but that didn’t make Preston any less pissed.
“I don’t know what the fuck you think you’re going to do. My father is the best damn DA in this state – you’re not going to peg me for a fucking thing!” He growled harshly, hoping she was close enough to hear him despite his breathlessness. He wasn’t going to waste any time turning to see if she was still lingering, not right now, because who knew if she had back up now. He’d rather stay in the dark about what he was dealing with. It just made things easier.
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Post by Deleted on Dec 17, 2013 23:36:26 GMT -5
There was no denying the satisfying feeling Harley always felt when she tasered a criminal; especially one that thought they were going to get away from her. Not this time bucko, she thought as she watched the guy fall down to his knees in pain. Some would find her a bit sadistic, but she never saw it that way. She saw it as a criminal who deserved a little pain, something she wouldn’t wish upon innocent people. If she were really sadistic, she’d taser anyone regardless of who they were and think only happy thoughts as she did it.
Harley knew she may be overdoing it. All that was needed was one shock, not two, three or more than that. But when he moved and tried to yank free from the tasers probes, she shocked him again unintentionally since its set to shock three more times after the first one at different times the more the probes were on its target. Finally noticing blood start to seep through what she thought was a pretty nice shirt on him, she started to disarm her taser, remaining silent; that was until he had opened his mouth to speak.
From her stand point, he reminded her of a whiner as he got angry and mouthy. Harley had never been shocked by a taser before and to her, it didn’t look that bad as people made it out to seem with their dramatic displays of pain. She had always thought if her older brothers could take it, then everyone else could, too. Rolling her eyes at Peter's (if that was even his name) outburst, she sighed, deciding a third shock would just be cruel though very tempting. “Just be lucky this wasn’t a real gun, Pete. Then you’d have one hole in each leg. And just an FYI, it’s not a good idea to call a woman with a taser gun ‘bitch’. Are you asking to be shocked again?”
This guy wasn’t going very far. Figuring he about had enough of shocks for one night, she fully disarmed her taser gun by taking off the wires from it, but leaving the probes behind and still on him. Harley placed it back in her holster, unhooked her handcuffs from the side of her belt and knelt down next to him as he spoke about his father. For the second time, she rolled her eyes at the mention of his father being the DA. He’d be surprised how many of those she caught mentioned something about a family member being a part of the justice system and how much crap she’d be in when they found out she’d handcuffed their beloved relative.
“Oh good, then you can explain to your dad why you were impersonating an FBI agent and running away from me like you had something to hide.” She replied in amusement as she snapped a handcuff around his right wrist and the other one on her left wrist. Harley learned in the past that handcuffing both wrists of a criminal didn't stop them from trying to run again, however handcuffing herself to them saved a lot of time and effort. “Now get up will you? You’re practically dead weight and I have a birthday party to get to in a couple hours. The faster we get on with this and find out who you really are, the faster we can go our separate ways.”
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Post by Deleted on Dec 18, 2013 16:37:15 GMT -5
With one wrist cuffed and the other around Harley's wrist, Preston was practically pulled to his feet. So he couldn't run like this, but there was plenty more that he could do. He walked for a moment, head hung and seemingly complacent before he pivoted, twisting his body and slamming her against the wall, his weight against hers and his wrist pressed to her throat.
"I don't want to hurt you." He said in a low, gruff voice, eyes narrow as his face got close to hers. "And I don't really have time to be playing this 'You're under arrest' game. People are dead, and if you don't let me go more people are going to die." His voice was barely a whisper as he fought to keep her as still as he possibly could.
"You don't even remotely understand what it is you're getting into right here, right now. Impersonating FBI agents isn't something I do for fun because I inevitably end up dealing with bitches like you and then, once again, people die." His free hand was patting down the woman's body now, fishing through whatever pockets he could reach to find the key. He was fuming, speaking through gritted teeth with his eyes narrowed.
"You couldn't just leave it alone, could you? What could I possibly get out of any of this except some information to deal with what's terrorizing this city? I know how to deal with what's out there. The police? They're just going to get themselves killed. Do you really want to be the reason the body count keeps rising? Because I really, truly, honestly don't think you do."
Preston's voice was cold but his eyes were burning with rage. By the time the sun set completely someone else was going to be dead - that much he was sure of. "Now either you let me go or I drag you along with me but I'm not going to that station house in cuffs, do you understand? Not now, now later, not tomorrow. It isn't happening. When this is over I'm getting in my car and going on my merry way. Am I understood or do I need to knock you unconscious?"
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Post by Deleted on Dec 21, 2013 0:01:32 GMT -5
It never occurred to Harley that she could end up against a wall with a wrist to her throat and getting a very uncomfortable, unwanted body search. When it did happen, she was caught off guard which was something that didn’t happen often. A rush of fear filled her senses as she stood silent, not knowing what to do as his hands roamed around; most likely trying to find the handcuff key.
When Peter spoke, it took her a moment to absorb his words. When someone says they don’t want to hurt you, there was always a 50/50 chance that they would do exactly that. What she needed to do, was think of something quick to get the upper hand. Harley hated when she was immobilized and this guy wasn’t making it easy to think clearly so she could figure out how to get out of this situation. Besides, he sounded all kinds of crazy with this idea that people were dying. What was he, a hero wannabe? The last thing she wanted was to set this guy off but the moment he called her a bitch, anger started to get the best of her.
She allowed him to vent or at least what she thought was venting, as she kept eye contact and trying her best to breathe evenly so that her heart would stop beating so fast. Even though he gave her a somewhat tempting ultimatum, she knew she wasn’t going to take the high road and let him go. Though, getting dragged to god knows where, wasn’t on the list of things she wanted to do today; especially with someone who talked crazy.
Harley decided to take action. With one quick knee jerk in his direction, she kneed him right in the groin (or at least she hoped was his groin) that only served to make her stagger forward towards him almost making her fall. When she finally got ahold of herself, she spoke, trying her damnest not to sound weak. “Firstly, stop calling me a bitch – it’s rude. Secondly, do you hear yourself even speak? You sound like a lunatic. You are crazy to think I’d even let you go. Lastly, don’t ever touch me again.”
At this point, she’d have pulled her taser gun out, however it was useless. If she had only remembered to put new probes in it, then she’d have a working taser gun she could point straight at him and threaten him with. Then maybe, he'd start playing nice.
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