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LA Is (Not) For Lovers


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Erica Stone

It’s been a few days since Rickie’s curbside engagement with Zara the Barista. And she’s still very much... aggravated.

“Needy cappuccino,” the redhead grumbles as she pushes away from her precinct desk. It’s piled high with case files and criminal dockets; she’s neck deep in a double homicide, and the last thing she needs is bullsh*t regarding a hippie-dippie, coffee brewing brat. But, it’s the end of the day, and all she wants is Barney, a cold beer, and mindless television.

Stone! Before you leave, see me.” 

The sergeant is so red in the face that Rickie’s convinced he’s just about hot enough to cook an egg on that bald dome of his. She pretends to tidy her desk some, haphazardly shuffling papers and rearranging files, if only to delay this one-on-one interaction with an equally aggravated boss.

“What’s throwing you off?” he barks as she steps into the room. Rickie doesn’t have an answer. At least, not one she can get away with. She’s close with the sergeant - Bruce Barrington has always been good to her, has looked out for her for as long as she's been with the LAPD. 

“You had a mental lapse in the interrogation room this yesterday.”

Rickie nods. 

“You’re distracted. Where’s your head?”

“I don’t know, sir.” It’s the first lie she’s ever told her boss. And she hopes her poker face is good enough to fool him. There’s one thing on her mind, and it has brown hair and eyes the color of dark chocolate. 


That stupid b*tch of a barista has the detective thrown completely off her normal, regimented work ethic. 

“We need you for this case, Rickie. You’re my best detective.”

“Yes, sir. I’ll be back on game tomorrow.”

Rickie Stone has half a mind to march straight to Reed's Roastery after work, just to tell Zara to f*ck right off. The chance of that becoming reality is slim, but at this point, she’s tired, irritated with her own level of distraction, and absolutely horrified with her lack of social skills. Instead, she drags her feet on the way home, half hoping to bump into the woman who’s caused such an abrupt disturbance in her daily life.

October 12, 2017 11:15 pm

Zara Peer

The last thought on Zara's mind is Erica. That's the absolute truth. She is too busy sleeping while the sun is up, stealing her roommate's leftover Chinese food and watching reruns of Sex and the City. She's unsure if she's a Samantha or a Miranda, or if she's caught somewhere in-between. It's the difficult questions like this that keep her up at night.

Before she knows it, it’s 4am. Time to get kick her ass into high gear and get ready for work. The work day is long and tedious, and of course, Zara Peer is the problematic coworker. Always losing track of tasks, not cleaning up after her messes, and far too often shirking responsibility. It’s amazing she’s lasted seven whole months at Reed’s Roastery, and she’s well aware that her days are limited.

It helps, considering the explosive interaction with a regular. She’s surprised the self-entitled red-head hadn’t complained to management yet. Brett, the 22 year old tool who gives Zara the sh*ttiest possible shifts prefers to ‘talk out the rough patch’ than take actual action.

As long as he stays spineless and constantly high, she’ll have a job.

Before she knows it, she’s off, apron tosses haphazardly on the counter as she collects her bag and scurries out onto the street. She smells of freshly brewed coffee and roasting beans. And, just as she’s popping in her earbuds to call her mother on her walk home…

For the second time in a week, an ignoramus knocks into her. This time, it’s different. Her purse goes flying, contents littering the sidewalk. Muttering under her breath, Zara’s hands fly around picking up the discarded belongings. She hasn’t even bothered to see who it was. She’s mainly concerned over one possession.

The same possession that both of their hands settle over. A small vial filled with white powder.

Oh, that’s just…” She starts to plan an excuse, until her dark eyes find the other woman’s. Erica’s. Detective Erica.

October 13, 2017 12:08 am

Erica Stone

Of. F*cking. Course.

It’s just Rickie’s luck that some d*ckhead would crash into her once she’s almost home. “You’ve got to be joking,” she hisses, realizing that she knows this particular d*ckhead.

The hope of encountering Zara had been half-hearted; she didn’t really have any desire to see the woman, let alone talk to her. She’d grown sour to the thought of getting to know the barista because well, first impressions do, in fact, count for a lot.  Regardless, she drops to her knees, collecting objects strewn across the pavement. Her fingers curl around a small glass vial just as Zara reaches in the same direction.



She’d know the drug blindfolded – as a rookie cop, she was often sent to break up house parties, and of course, blow was the popular choice for young LA socialites.

“You’re under arrest.”

Rickie’s instincts kick in, and she has Zara cuffed before the young woman can move from her current position. Of course, the detective has no intention of convicting the barista of possessing a Class B controlled substance. The amount is insignificant enough to where she can conveniently forget about it. But, with the sh*t day she’s having – the sh*t week, rather – putting Zara in a holding cell would certainly do wonders for her mood.

October 13, 2017 12:36 am

Zara Peer

"Come on, you don't have too.." She begins earnestly until her arms are yanked behind her back and cuffed.

"This is police brutality!" When all else fails, she enters her activist mode. "I know my rights, okay? I get.." She blinks, unsure what it is exactly that she's entitled too. Sure, she's still a little high.

Rickie pulls her, kicking and squirming to her feet, making the job as difficult as possible. "You're a real tool, you know that? I didn't want to f-ck you, so you're arresting me? Grow up." Yes, she's full of piss and vinegar. She's well aware that she's the least likable person she knows. She’s a hypocrite, through and through.

Made evident by the ‘Meat is Murder’ tank-top she’s sporting, even though more often than not, she’s out trolling the night in another form. She’s the first, clearly, to accuse a police officer of misconduct while carrying a Class B drug so carelessly.

She’s aware just how problematic she is. And she loves every second of it. “How desperate are you, that’d you’d come all the way back to Reed’s? Can’t handle rejection? Or do you always have to pay people to be nice to you?” Zara is digging in, letting the jabs sink.

At the same juncture, she feels herself bristling with hostility. If she doesn’t calm down, the residents of LA are going to have quite the scene on their hands..
October 14, 2017 10:23 pm

Erica Stone

The detective can’t help but laugh. She’s dealt with stupidity before, but this woman… oh, she’s something else altogether. Zara is stronger than she looks, but her small, wiry frame isn’t nearly enough to disrupt Rickie from dragging her toward the precinct.

Zara’s last remark stings a little, and Rickie grits her teeth to stop a snarky comment of her own from slipping off her tongue. At this juncture, Zara isn’t ‘kind of a b*tch.’ Rather, she’s a self-righteous, self-serving, loud-mouthed son of a b*tch, who needs a serious attitude adjustment.

The booking officer looks amused when Rickie strolls into the precinct with Zara in tow. The younger woman hasn’t quieted down much, but Rickie has managed to tune out her incessant rambling. Even after she’s nudged her into the holding cell and locked the door, Zara continues to spew profanities, and bark about her rights.

“Caught yourself something, eh Stone? I thought you were off the clock.”

“I was on my way home, and this… moron practically throws cocaine at me. Pretty, but stupid.

She pauses to glance over her shoulder at the barista, an undeniable smirk of satisfaction tugging at her lips. If this is how Zara wanted to play it, Rickie Stone is total game. “Hold her for possession of a Class B substance, disorderly conduct, and resisting arrest. No release on personal recognizance. I’ll be back in the morning.”

She begins to make her way out. But, she just has to take one more dig at the woman behind bars. She backpedals to the officer’s desk. “Want anything from Starbucks? I was going to stop by Reed’s, but I hear they have sh*tty service.”

The officer shakes his head, and Rickie gives him a small wave in response. “Take care of yourself, Frankie. Put a muzzle on that one, if necessary.”

“You got it, detective.”

She throws casual finger guns at Zara before making a swift b-line to the door.

October 14, 2017 10:55 pm

Zara Peer

'Put a muzzle on that one, if necessary.'

It's a rather on the nose suggestion, enough so to make Zara laugh, jeering stare cast solely in Erica's direction. "Kiss my ass." She replies with conviction, a thumb swiping up from her chin being the final reflection of her opinion towards the detective.

This isn't the first night Zara Peer has spent behind bars. She's not a particularly well-managed person, and this will come as no surprise to anyone who has come to know her. She's brash, utterly hot-blooded.

Much of it has to do, really, with the beast inside of her. Her reckless, thoughtless behavior is a product of the lycanthropy that courses through her veins.

No remorse. Zero consequences.

It's the life she lives, and prefers. No equally hot-headed cop can possibly change what is biological in her.

She'll accept the punishment as it comes, if she manages to keep her calm under pressure. It's also equally as likely she'll tear the head off of the next officer that touches her, and then she'll have to relocate. Again. It's reassuring to see Erica haul ass out the door.

"So... When do I get my phone call?"
December 21, 2017 09:35 pm

Erica Stone

Rickie can’t stop herself from grinning on her way home – there was something unbelievably satisfying about putting that sanctimonious brat behind bars. Even just for the night. The digs Zara had taken at the detective had stung, sure. But, they’d been rather harmless. At least in comparison to what Rickie’s used to on a more regular basis.

In the morning, the redhead strolls into work with a hot cup of Starbucks coffee. Dark roast, black. Because you know what? Screw the cappuccino.

“No Reed’s this morning, Detective?” an officer teases, as Rickie strides past the desk.

“I’m off that sh*t. Left a bad taste in my mouth last time.”

She stops a few feet away from the holding cell bars. Zara’s asleep on the cold metal bench, and for a fleeting moment, Rickie feels bad. But, then, she remembers that the younger woman is an utter b*tch. She takes a sip of her coffee – it’s almost as good as that organically grown, hippie sh*t they brew at Reed’s – and then clears her throat.

“Rise and shine, sleepyhead. It’s a new day.”

December 21, 2017 10:02 pm

Zara Peer

Like any good dog, Zara can sleep almost anywhere. A cold slate and a blanket she's too afraid to touch hardly affect the deep sleep she's stirred from by none other than Erica Stone.

She takes an absurdly long time to rise and stretch, over-exaggerating every movement as she limbers up. "Thanks for the free nap." She chirps, knowing full well she's out of a job with Reed's if Brett notices her clear absence from her shift this morning. She's not entirely bothered, honestly. She wasn't planning on sticking around at a job where Detective Stone can easily find her ever again.

"Y'know, I've never gone home with a girl on the first date... Bed's a little hard, Detective." The lilt of her tone as she continually jabs at the red-headed woman begins to form a pattern.

"So? What's the deal? Bail? Prison? Guillotine? Please promise it's something more interesting than talking to you." Zara scuffs the floor with her shoes - sans laces - eyes then returning to look at Erica as she sports a mocking grin.

"You'd be much prettier if you smiled, you know. All of that mandatory scowling makes you look much older."
December 22, 2017 06:45 pm

Erica Stone

“You’re going to help me today. And then when I find nothing else for you to do, you’ll be free to go.”

It’s about high time that Rickie clear her desk. The stacks of reports and dockets are beginning to collect dust, and the detective has been too busy (read: distracted) to file them properly. So, what better than to employ the help of a captive audience? If anything, Rickie hopes that it’ll just prove to be a torturous experience for the defiant spitfire.

“And don’t worry, I’d prefer if you kept your mouth shut.”

Rickie explains the process at an excruciatingly slow pace; it’s almost an insult to the other woman’s intelligence. But, Zara hates the sound of her voice – Rickie can tell by how she sulks and rolls her eyes. Childish. At any rate, it gives Rickie a sick sense of gratification, knowing that she’s stuck. The detective hands over a tall stack of manila folders, and waves a dismissive hand.

“Oh, Zara? Try anything stupid, and I’ll slap an ‘intent to distribute’ on your outstanding charges. How does up to 9 years in prison sound?”

With that, she winks, and swivels in her chair, leaving Zara to all the boring paperwork.

December 22, 2017 07:39 pm

Zara Peer

Despite her incredulity, Zara stacks, color-codes, and files the paperwork in an immaculate fashion. Sometimes, the best retaliation is to simply perform better than they're expecting. It's not that Zara isn't an intellectual, she's just incredibly lazy. No drive exists within her. Really, because her young age and volatile control of her beast leaves her susceptible to sometimes violent, often public outbursts.

Los Angeles has lasted longer than she'd expected - but clearly she won't be sticking around after this. Having a police officer paying special attention to her simply won't do.

She's smart enough to know at some point, Erica Stone will witness something she shouldn't, and get far too curious into who and what Zara actually is.

It's several hours of grueling test work, but at the end of it all, her work speaks for itself. "All done, Officer." She oozes mock charm, a dainty little hand wave beckoning Erica back over to the accomplished work.

"I think you'll find everything fundamentally flawless." And it's true. Erica will have a hard time finding flaw in her detainee's efforts.
January 08, 2018 09:57 pm

Erica Stone

Rickie finds no flaws in the younger woman's work, and she's actually rather impressed by how efficient and organized Zara had been. It was certainly unexpected from someone who seemed to thrive on chaos. The redhead rubs the back of her neck, lips pursed in reaction to the scene before her. Zara had beaten Rickie at her own game, and the detective has never been known to take kindly to that. But, this is a unique case - one that she, in all honesty, can't be bothered to f*ck with.

"You're dismissed," she says curtly, a hint of annoyance tainting her tone. She waves her hand for last resort dramatic flare, knowing full well that the young hippie will already be halfway down the street before the last syllable is past her lips.

With Zara gone, the detective heaves a sigh, and returns to her desk. It's clean now, at least - so much so that her partner, Chase, comments as he saunters by. "The new intern do that for you?" he inquires, smugly.


"The brunette who was here all morning, sorting dockets. She made quick work of that."

"She wasn't an intern, thank f*cking God. I'd quit my job, and relocate to goddamn Montana before letting Zara Peer intern for me."

Chase arches a brow. "You two apparently hit it off, huh?" he teases. Rickie's only response is a quasi-sincere middle finger.

She takes a moment to reflect on how she'd once been enchanted by (read: mildly obsessed with) the young barista. Now, she scowls at the mere thought of being in the woman's presence. How quickly and drastically first impressions can be contradicted. Subconsciously, her hand reaches forward to grab ahold of the computer mouse, curiousity and detective instincts kicking in.

The keyboard clatters as her fingers deftly do their part. Rickie's eyes go wide at the list of prior charges, a wave of unexpected emotion crashing over her. It's enough to make her slump back in her chair in defeat. Apparently, Zara Peer, in that tiny, lithe frame of hers, packs quite the punch.
January 09, 2018 10:50 pm
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