forum Not Your Fairytale: Little Red Riding Hood // oxo // Romance // CLOSED

Started June 25, 2019 by @croccin-champagne

tune

The people that had attacked them disappeared into the night. Sirens closed in on them and cop cars began appearing. Keith took the bandanna, and managed to stand up despite his injury. "Are you hurt?" he was breathing relatively hard.

"Everywhere." Morrigan said, standing as he did. With a flick of her hand, her gun was gone. "But it ain' anythin' I ain't dealt with before. You look pretty worse for wear though. Press that t' the wound, with a decent bit o' pressure. Bullet in there for sure?"

"I've been worse than this before, I'll live," Keith couldn't help but laugh a little, which hurt, but he did anyway. "I'm going to guess that was the gang I was talking about earlier. Dumb mistake letting me ID them, and walk away alive. I have a feeling however, that they were just getting warmed up, did you see how fast he drew?"

"The Flash wishes he could." Morrigan muttered to herself, not-very-carefully shrugging out of her hoodie. She glared at the bullet hole in the arm, at the rips and burns and blood, before tying it around her waist, something heavy in the pocket swinging for a moment. "Too fuckin' fast, tha's how." She said, examining where the bullet had entered her arm with a seemingly unconcerned gaze. The removal of her jacket made the cuts she'd received in the crash visible, along with all the scars littering her arm and shoulder. What stood out most though, was the mechanical prosthetic, now bared for the world to see.

Cop cars came screaming to a halt and deputies were out and questioning what had happened. They questioned Morrigan to find out more of what had happened. Keith slipped in at one point that Morrigan had saved his life, but didn't bring a lo of attention to it.

Morrigan was about as helpful as one would expect her to be, not wasting any opportunity to be an ass, but at the same time being fairly forthcoming. It pissed off a few deputies that she didn't give them her full attention, instead riffling through her pockets one at a time. Eventually, she found what she was looking for, pulling out a pair of tweezers and beginning to remove the bullet from her arm as she half-assed answering questions.

An ambulance was called and Keith was taken to get treated. Some other deputies cuffed Morrigan again and began leading her to one of their patrol vehicles. Keith watched them start taking her away and couldn't help but breath out a sigh of relief. She had almost witnessed him lose control, and that could have ended horribly.

"Wait! Wait wait wait." Morrigan slipped from the hands holding her cuffs, turning to look over at Keith. "Ya gonna be alright, Gun Man?" She asked, her cuffs already back in front of her to press the sleeve she'd torn from her hoodie against her bleeding arm. There was a slightly concerning amount of blood on her face, under that cut that was starting to look more and more worrying, but she was grinning.

Keith looked over at her and nodded. "I'll be fine, you worry about you please. I'd like if you didn't end up dead or something like that," he replied. The panic that had been burning in his chest was starting to where off.

"Migh' be better off if I did." Morrigan said, shrugging her metal shoulder as a flicker of something serious passed over her face. "Tell your people t' keep mine safe, would ya? I won' be able t' do it myself, righ' now."

"I will see what I can do," he replied. He was being treated for his gun wound and the other injuries he sustained from the crash. All the while thinking of what might have happened if he had lost control while Morrigan was there. He sure seemed calm and collected during it, and he even seemed calm now. But he had been on the verge of losing all control, and someone would have been hurt if he had. He hoped that Morrigan didn't question at any point how he could have known that there were people there, when hearing over the sound of the fire was nearly impossible.

It had been two days since Morrigan had been arrested. After the attack, she'd been taken to the closest jail and put under twenty-four hour surveillance, very obviously to protect others from her, as opposed to protecting her from the people that wanted her dead. She wasn't too concerned about that, though. She was more concerned about her grandmother, and friends and coworkers. She hadn't heard anything from or about her arresting officer, either, so she had no clue if he'd acted upon his promise to try and get them protection.

She was in her cell, now, feigning sleep. She hadn't slept since the night before the accident, and it showed in the dark bags under her eyes, if one looked a bit closer. None of the officers did, though, because they all thought she had been sleeping. In fact, they were discussing her being moved to a transport ship right now, because they thought she was asleep. Resisting the urge to laugh, she curled up on the cold bench, missing her hoodie and wishing she at least had something more than a goddamn camisole she'd been wearing for two days, that was still stained with her own blood and ripped in places.

Keith was back out on the streets in his patrol car. Technically he shouldn't have been and should have been at home resting, but he was stubborn and chose not to be there. He was sitting in his patrol car, a little ways from the place where he had arrested Morrigan. If anyone came out they would see him. He just hoped that if they were sore at him for arresting Morrigan, they would give him the chance to explain why he was here before kicking him to a bloody pulp, as he knew they could.

An older woman with a red head scarf, that matched the color Morrigan's hoodie had been, squinted as she spotted the patrol car. Changing directions, she started towards it at a brisk pace, making it obvious she had every intention of talking to Keith. Once she had reached the patrol car, she knocked three times on the window before lowering her arm, waiting for him to roll it down as her steely grey eyes studied him with a sharp gaze, one that very much resembled Morrigan's. In fact, the woman looked quite a bit like Morrigan, from the shape of her nose, to the way one eyes squinted slightly as she eyed Keith.

Keith took a breath, placed his hand on his taser but not pulling it out, and rolled down the window. "Can I help you ma'am?"

"You are the one Maria told me about, no? The officer that arrested my granddaughter." The woman said more than asked, her words coated with a thick French accent.

"That I am, ma'am," he sighed. "Officer Monto. Ma'am you realize that your granddaughter has stolen, on many occasions, and also assaulted people, right? Not to mention evading the police. I hate to say it, but she brought this on herself, and I can't really change that. I am only here because there has been a threat on you and everyone here, and your granddaughter asked me to keep you safe."

"Oh, don't you give me that." She said, rolling her eyes and placing her hands on her hips. "You don't think I know exactly what my granddaughter gets up to? The only one missing pieces of the puzzle is you, mister." She shook her head, the loose end of the headscarf fluttering slightly. "I did not come here for you to tell me she is a thief. I am here to make you promise me to keep her safe."

"Honestly ma'am, the woman can take better care of herself than anything we could do for her. In fact, she would probably have an easier time staying safe without us, all we're there for is keeping the other inmates safe from her. I can promise that she is fine as of this moment, but on the way to the jail she and I were both attacked and someone threatened you and the other people here. So if you wouldn't mind, I have a job to do, and I respectfully ask that you let me do it," Keith looked at the woman keeping a calm and more professional look.

"And you are doing a very good job of it, with me right next to you." She said, raising an eyebrow as she dug around her purse for a moment. She pulled out a small notepad and a pen, scribbling down something before dropping it through the window into the passenger's seat. "Lord knows that girl will refuse to call me while all of this goes down. Do call for anything, to talk or update me on what you can. I hope you understand my worry. It was a pleasure meeting you, Keith Monto." Without giving him a chance to wonder how she already knew his first name, she was off on her way down the street, humming to herself.

Keith sighed and rolled up his window shaking his head. Somehow she knows me and yet I don't even know her name. Hopefully my name is the only thing she knows about me. He reached over to the notepad and picked it up to examine it.

It was a phone number and an address, written in admittedly incredible cursive. Along with that, at the bottom of the paper, were a few simple sentences, that were also fairly vague. 'Keep an eye out for the smoke. She cannot control the fire as well as she pretends to.'
The ringing of his phone/communications device cut through the silence, an incoming call.

Keith placed the notepad down and shifted to take the call. Whoever it was, was not his supervisor or any of his coworkers. So he was a little reluctant to take it. But decided that he would anyway. "This is officer Monto."