[Bridget Lacey]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","BRIDGETpost"]

[attr="class","BRIDGETLyrics"]A cold beer on a Friday night[break]

A pair of jeans that fit just right. And the radio up.[break][break]

[attr="class","BRIDGETBody"]

Bridget was glad when she got the call to go meet with DCF to work as a translator. She welcomed any excuse to get out of the office, to avoid the small stack of paperwork that was waiting for her on her desk. Reports she needed to finish, documents she needed to review for accuracy, all the bureaucratic red tape that came along with actually getting anything done. [break][break]

When she got on scene to the apartment complex where she was needed, Bridget parked next to the blue Ford Escape that was already waiting in the parking lot. She smiled when she realized that she was going to be translating for Nate again. She’d worked with him several times in the past, and they’d grabbed coffee a couple times when they had multiple interviews in the same day. They were on friendly terms, and it was always nice to continue to build a rapport with the other agencies she worked closely with. [break][break]

“Hey, Nate. Good to see you again.” She greeted him as she walked over. He was still in his car, typing something on his laptop while he waited. Undoubtedly, he was working on his own paperwork. Government agencies sure did love to make a paper trail. [break][break]

“Bridget! I didn’t know you spoke Romanian, too.” Nate closed the lid on his laptop and slipped it into his briefcase, then got out of the vehicle. “Just how many languages do you speak?” [break][break]

“I don’t even know how many are on the list now. A lot.” Bridget shrugged. “I went to school for applied linguistics, and I pick up languages that are similar or share roots with languages I already know pretty easily.” [break][break]

It wasn’t as much of a lie as it was a minor stretch of the truth. She had gone to college for applied linguistics, and that did make picking up the written languages much easier. But spoken languages didn’t take any effort at all. [break][break]

“That must come in handy, for sure. I can’t even get past learning a few common phrases in Spanish, no matter how hard I try.” Nate lamented, as they walked to the door of the correct apartment and he knocked. After only a few short seconds, they were ushered inside and the interview began. [break][break]

It didn’t take long for the interview. Nate was just checking up with the family after the grandson had been placed in the care of his grandparents, and everything seemed like it was going well. Once they were done, Nate and Bridget left the apartment with Bridget only having to turn down the offer of snacks a couple times before they left. [break][break]

“She was definitely nice. I’m glad that they are all adjusting well.” Nate chuckled as they walked toward the parking lot. “Yes, she was nice. She definitely wanted to send us off with food. I didn’t think I was going to be able to dissuade her.” [break][break]

“Yeah, I noticed that.” They walked up to their cars in the parking lot. “It was nice working with you again.” Bridget opened her car door. “It’s always nice to see a friendly face.” [break][break]

Bridget got into her car, but when she turned the key nothing happened. There was no clicking, no cranking, no sputtering. The engine just didn’t start. ”Oh, son of a biscuit.” She mumbled to herself, frustration bleeding the slightest Alabama drawl back into her words. She pulled the lever to pop open the hood and got back out of the car. [break][break]

Nate had gotten into his own vehicle, but hadn't pulled out of the parking space yet. When he noticed Bridget was having car trouble, he got back out and walked over to her. “You okay?” He asked, noting the puzzled, frustrated look on her face as she stared at the engine. “You know anything about cars? Cause it just won’t start. I don’t know what happened. It was fine on the way here.” Bridget blew out a breath slowly, [break][break]

“I can’t say I know anything about engines, but I know someone else who does.” After staring blankly under the hood, unable to determine what he was even supposed to be looking for, Nate grabbed the phone from his pocket and sent a quick text. ’I’m sorry if this is a bad time, but a friend of mine is having some weird car trouble.’ He typed in the address and sent the text to Luck. [break][break]

Once he got the confirmation that Luck was going to come help, Nate started to feel anxious about it. “Okay, my, um, my friend is going to come see if he can help, but I have another interview I have to get to.” Nate didn't feel good about making an excuse, about leaving Bridget to wait on her own, but he did anyway. [break][break]

“As long as you're sure I'm not putting anyone out. Thank you.” Bridget was understanding, she knew he had a lot of cases and there were only so many social workers to go around. Nate assured her he'd check on her after his next appointment, and then he was gone. Bridget sighed and then texted her boss to let them know she was having car trouble. [break]

[attr="class","BRIDGETNotes"]Luck Harris [break]
Obvs I assumed Luck would text back. Feel free to make assumptions/take whatever liberties with Nate and Bridget. Let me know for any changes!

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[Luck Harris]

[nospaces]

[googlefont=Bitter]

[attr="class","post-frosttalonwheat-o"]

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[attr="class","post-frosttalon-title-small"]SOMETHIN BOUT STARLIGHT ON KANSAS

[attr="class","post-frosttalon-subtitle-small"]the way a wheat field dances, fence posts as far as the eye can see

Following the small, unfortunate "incident" at work, Luck had been forced to take a mandatory week off. Unpaid, of course. The intention was to give him a "mental break", to make sure he wasn't "rattled", and would return to the office (and the field, if needed) with a clear head. But the Sector's follow-through was lacking and he knew they were just going through the motions. Playing by the book, only as much as they absolutely had to. He was fine. Not that they would ask him when he did show back up. [break][break]

He wasn't even halfway through his forced leave and he'd already caught up on sleep, gotten his apartment in tip-top shape, done all the washing, shopped for all the things he'd put off, and now he'd resorted to just being idle and bored. So, he was happy to receive the message from Nate, asking for help with a friend's car. It gave him an excuse to get around and be useful. And it was a little comforting to know that Nate felt he could still ask him for help. [break][break]

He circled the apartment complex once, looking for Nate's SUV. It should have stuck out like a sore thumb but he saw no splash of blue among the lines of tenant vehicles. He was making his second, slower circuit — and just about to pull out his phone and recheck the address he'd been sent — when he noticed the white car with its hood raised and a woman propped against the front fender. Figuring a coincidence was somewhat unlikely, he swung his truck into the parking space directly beside hers and glanced through his window. [break][break]

Oh, ew — Kia Forte. He puffed a breath in his cheeks. A problem car right off the lot. He hoped this was going to be nothing more nuanced than her leaving a cabin light on and needing a jump. [break][break]

Turning off his truck, Luck opened the door and stepped down. "Hey," he greeted, voice friendly while his mouth quirked into an obligatory, affable-enough smile. Then the woman turned more fully toward him and — recognizing her — his mouth spread more genuinely and he tipped his head curiously. "Oh, Bridget?" It made sense, he supposed. He knew she had contracts translating for a number of departments, Nate's included. He just hadn't expected it. "Car trouble during work? Our folks are gonna love that, aren't they?"[break][break]

It occurred to Luck a bit belatedly, that maybe Bridget wasn't in the middle of a shift. He assumed Nate had been on a job, but... he hadn't actually said as much, had he? Perhaps he had other reasons for being at an apartment complex in the morning. Which...[break][break]

Really wasn't Luck's business, he decided, shooing the intrusive thought from mind with a quick leap to his brow. He stepped past Bridget with a nod, then bent to give a casual glance about the engine bay on display. Nothing was obviously wrong, so he placed his hands on the fender and settled more decidedly. "Alright, give her a turn, let's hear it."

it ain't like smoke gets in your clothes, naw[break]it cuts through my skin and digs in way down deep

Tag: Bridget Lacey[break]
Give me a nudge for any changes!

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[Bridget Lacey]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","BRIDGETpost"]

[attr="class","BRIDGETLyrics"]A cold beer on a Friday night[break]

A pair of jeans that fit just right. And the radio up.[break][break]

[attr="class","BRIDGETBody"]

While she was waiting for Nate’s friend, Bridget took a picture of her engine, sending it to two of her brothers. Aaron was a mechanic, and Charles could figure out anything. Aaron just texted her back to get a new car, and Charles just said that he was busy and he couldn’t figure it out from a picture. Bridget sighed. Of course it had been a longshot that either of them would be able to tell her what had gone wrong this time. Aaron had been harassing her for a long time to replace her car with something more reliable, but for some reason she was attached to this little piece of crap.[break][break]

Maybe it was because it was the first big purchase she’d ever made on her own. It hadn't been new when she bought it, but it was only seven years old when she got it right after college, a replacement for the bigger piece of crap she had been driving back then, the bright yellow Chevy Aveo that she’d had since she turned sixteen. Aaron despised that car and told her she was going to die in it one day, only to groan and roll his eyes at her when she came back with the white Kia Forte, six whole years newer than the Aveo had been, being a 2010 model. Aaron told her she was trading one headache for another, and he wasn’t exactly wrong. Especially lately, it had been unreliable. She knew she needed to get rid of it, but she kept putting it off. [break][break]

It occurred to her far too late that she hadn't asked Nate for his friend’s name, but she supposed it would be okay. He’d probably filled them in on who they were looking for, so she just waited, hood still up, leaning against the car and scrolling through a page of google search results for what the problem could be. All it really succeeded in doing was make her realize she should really invest in a AAA membership, because every result seemed to be another issue with the car that she would be likely to encounter at some point. [break][break]

Before long, a truck circled the parking lot, then pulled up next to her. When a familiar sounding voice called out, Bridget turned around and realized it was familiar for a reason. “Luck! I had no clue that you were the friend Nate was asking for help.” She knew him from work, some of their cases overlapping from time to time. “Yeah, when I called in to let them know I was having car trouble they told me to use my PTO to make up the time I’m out of the office.” She rolled her eyes. While it wasn’t all bad with the Sector, they definitely weren’t the most flexible employer. “What’s got you off today? Vacation? I hope I’m not keeping you from anything.” She worried that if he was on vacation that her car problems may have interrupted his relaxation. [break][break]

When he looked over the engine and instructed her to give it a turn, Bridget frowned a bit. “That’s just it.” She leaned in and turned the key, and nothing happened. “It doesn’t crank, no clicking, nothing.” She stood back up and shook her head. “I’m hopeless with cars, but my brother is a mechanic. I asked him for advice and he just said to replace it.” She rolled her eyes. “He also said he’s glad he’s across the country so he doesn’t have to look at it anymore.” [break]

[attr="class","BRIDGETNotes"]Luck Harris [break]
Let me know for changes.

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[Luck Harris]

[nospaces]

[googlefont=Bitter]

[attr="class","post-frosttalonwheat-o"]

[attr="class","frosttalonwheat-post"]

[attr="class","post-frosttalon-title-small"]SOMETHIN BOUT STARLIGHT ON KANSAS

[attr="class","post-frosttalon-subtitle-small"]the way a wheat field dances, fence posts as far as the eye can see

Bridget exclaimed her surprise at seeing him and Luck found himself trying very hard not to overthink what that could mean. [break][break]

He couldn't assume how close she and Nate were. If they were simply work acquaintances, perhaps she was just taken off-guard, like him, by the coincidence of a "friend of a friend" being someone she knew. Surprised that Nate hadn't mentioned names and/or hadn't been aware that they worked together, too. But if she was more friend than colleague, it was possible she could be more informed. More privvy to personal complaints. Perhaps even been a lent ear for Nate when "his boyfriend" was "being mean". In that case, was the surprise that Nate would ask anything of him at all? That they still spoke? [break][break]

When she continued, Luck decided she was here on the clock. Which meant Nate likely had been, too. And, though he was sure he shouldn't feel any sort of relief (or any sort of way at all) about those circumstances, something within him still shifted more comfortably. At her inquiry about his own reasons for missing work, he shrugged a shoulder easily. As if to reassure her nonverbally, before he assured her more statedly, that the whole thing wasn't a bother at all. "Mandatory leave. They threw me at a losing battle and, despite my best efforts, well... we still lost." [break][break]

His fingers tightened barely on the car's frame and he quirked his mouth and wrinkled his nose, dismissing the heavier implications there by immediately adopting a lighter tone. "Yeah no, if I was on vacation, I'd be a little harder to catch," he chuckled, head tipping faintly as he considered the statement. His PTO was precious. If the Sector tried forcing him to use any of his earned hours to cover vehicle trouble — especially when they didn't provide company vehicles — he'd throw an absolute fit. Relentlessly. Until they finally gave up and let him take the time unpaid instead. That, or fired him. "I'd be toes in the sand somewhere pretty and no one would be able to find me." He shook his head. "Nah, the only thing you're keeping me from is goin' stir-crazy. So... thanks." [break][break]

At his prompting, she tried starting the car. And, just as she said, it was completely unresponsive. Not even a click. A small furrow dipped at the center of Luck's brow, then immediately cleared as she explained her brother's take on the trouble. "Ha-hah," he crooned a short, quiet laugh and gave a shake of his head. "Your brother sounds hilarious. And he's absolutely right. Not to be an ass, but I'm willin' to bet this ain't the first time this car has had you hood-up and phonin' friends." [break][break]

Either her battery was completely dead, the problem was in her starter relay, or... possibly even her ignition or any one of her various sensors. The first was obviously the most ideal. The second would likely be a simple fix for them at the moment (but could mean underlying issues she'd have to get diagnosed). And the third or fourth, well... he wouldn't be much help, there. Not here and not now. [break][break]

"You got lights at all? In the cabin or on the dash?" Luck asked, brow pinching as he reached across the engine bay to wiggle the cover off of her fuse box. There was no visible scorching. No smell or signs of burnt plastic. "And your brother's across the country, you said. Where's about? And which one of you does that make closer to home?" As he spoke, he racked at the relays while making a quick, seeking scan about the bay's frame. All of her visible chassis grounds looked good. After carefully replacing the cover, he stepped back and around toward the driver's door. "If I had to guess... we'll find the problem up here. May I?" [break][break]

He squeezed by, propped her door open further, and then pried the cover from the fuse panel on the side of her dash. After a quick glance at the diagram on the panel cover, he gave inside a peek. Again, there were no visible signs of anything being blown. But... if he was a gambling man... sipping in a breath and craning awkwardly, Luck tried to get a hand inside. Then quickly gave up. He stood and cast Bridget a glance. "Safe assumption your hands are littler than mine. Think you can wiggle out that very top left 10 amp? If not, I'll just have to grab some pliers from the back of my truck."

it ain't like smoke gets in your clothes, naw[break]it cuts through my skin and digs in way down deep

Tag: Bridget Lacey[break]
Give me a nudge for any changes! This is a mess lmao, so let me know if I need to cut anything out/down to make replying easier. xD

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[Bridget Lacey]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","BRIDGETpost"]

[attr="class","BRIDGETLyrics"]A cold beer on a Friday night[break]

A pair of jeans that fit just right. And the radio up.[break][break]

[attr="class","BRIDGETBody"]

While she was glad that she wasn’t interrupting a vacation, Bridget knew that any mandated leave from work meant something had happened, some incident broke bad in a way where the Sector couldn’t pretend it hadn't happened, they couldn’t ignore the impact. He said they gave him a losing battle, and she felt for him. She’d been there, she’d had mandatory leave before, most of them had. Before she could offer any commiseration he continued on, and she let a smile tug at the corner of her lips. “Toes in the sand somewhere pretty, huh? That sounds like a proper vacation.” Bridget laughed when he said she was keeping him from going stir crazy. “Well, in that case, glad I could make the day more interesting.” [break][break]

Luck was amused at Aaron’s response, and he was also dead on about it not being the first time the car had given her trouble. “Not even close to it. But my brother is already too big for his britches, so I’d never tell him he’s right about it.” She smirked, thinking about how long her brother would gloat if she told him he’d been right this whole time, that she should have never bought the Forte to begin with. “And I’m sure you figured it already, but of course you’re right too. This car has had me callin’ for help more often than I’d like to admit.” [break][break]

He asked about lights, and Bridget shook her head. Nothing was lighting up, nothing was making noise, and nothing was working at all. “Not a darned thing.” She answered, watching as he moved around the vehicle adeptly. It was clear he had experience with this sort of thing. She didn’t know why it was surprising, probably just because they’d never really gotten to know much about each other. The times they’d been put together on cases tended to be more intense than just translating. It didn’t leave a lot of room or mental capacity for chit-chat after. Reports needed to be written, debriefings needed to occur, and more often than not -at least for Bridget- there was a need for quiet. [break][break]

“He’s in Alabama. He’s definitely the closer one to home, he lives just up the road from our dad’s house. That’s the older brother, the two younger ones are still thereabout as well, but the youngest is going to college about an hour away.” Bridget moved out of the way with a nod as Luck moved about the car. “How’d you learn to work on cars?” She wondered if maybe he had a hobby of fixing up cars, she had known plenty of people who had project cars just for fun. [break][break]

“Yeah, this one? Having small fingers comes in handy.” She pulled at the fuse he’d indicated then held it out. “So what about you? Where’s home?’

[attr="class","BRIDGETNotes"]Luck Harris [break]
Let me know for changes.

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[Luck Harris]

[nospaces]

[googlefont=Bitter]

[attr="class","post-frosttalonwheat-o"]

[attr="class","frosttalonwheat-post"]

[attr="class","post-frosttalon-title-small"]SOMETHIN BOUT STARLIGHT ON KANSAS

[attr="class","post-frosttalon-subtitle-small"]the way a wheat field dances, fence posts as far as the eye can see

He couldn't help the small, amused leap of his brow when she called his 'toes in the sand' reference a proper vacation. She was right, obviously. What was a vacation if you didn't leave? Saw some new sights and pulled yourself from the norm? What was the point? He supposed a lot of people took time off to simply rest and take a break but, well — you could sleep on a plane. [break][break]

And hey — with her Gift of being able to learn languages like nothing, she'd have a leg-up wherever she wanted to go. No matter how far she went or to where, she'd be able to converse casually with anyone she met, insert herself more completely into the native landscape, and be less constricted to the more tourist-heavy locations. The idea of it was intriguing — enviously so — and he made a mental note to ask about the places she'd traveled. Because surely, surely, she'd been out of the US. How could she not, doing what she could do? [break][break]

"Alabama!" Luck exclaimed, taking the fuse Bridget held out to him. The subtle clip to her words — the hint of a hidden drawl, perhaps — was suddenly louder to his ears. "Where the skies are so blue?" He added, after a moment of recovery, and then shook his head, smile inching the tiniest bit wider. "No, sorry, that one's too easy. I'll think of something better in a day or two." [break][break]

Something about the knowledge was refreshing, in a way he couldn't exactly pinpoint. Perhaps it just reminded him a little of home. Alabama wasn't terribly close to where he'd grown up, but it somehow felt closer than California. And though it was more than a little presumptuous of him, he instantly felt he knew her just a little better. Not just from being able to name her home state, but from being able to imagine the possibilities of her hometown. Surmise the beliefs and community that might have surrounded her growing up. What people her age — her peers — had done for fun. Even if she wasn't from a town exactly like his own, there'd have been plenty of the type around, surely. [break][break]

It was sometimes strange, and infinitely interesting, how a thousand miles of distance could make the world around oneself look and feel so different. People so different. [break][break]

Luck held the fuse before him, immediately noting the disconnect within and its dark, telling smudge on the inner plastic. Yep. He'd thought so. "Blown," he said simply as he turned to his truck. Immediately, he continued over his shoulder; addressing the return inquiry of his own stomping grounds (perhaps a little more enthusiastic and openly-forthcoming about the topic than he typically ever was). "Kansas for me. Southwest Kansas, to be specific." The distinction was important. "From home, you could drive bout fifty miles down Highway 54 and be in Oklahoma. Another fifty or so miles, Texas." [break][break]

As he spoke, he hiked up a leg to plant his foot on the top of his truck tire. "It's where I started with cars. Used to hang around the shops a lot as a boy," he pulled himself up and over, into the bed, and then paused to glance back at her, smile tugging a hair crooked as he lifted a hand and wriggled his fingers. "Y'know... back when I had little fingers, too. Damn shame I ever grew out of 'em." He clucked, giving a single, sad shake of his head. "Coulda made a whole career of fishing out dropped 10mms in tight engine bays." [break][break]

There'd only been three auto shops in Meade and he'd wandered between all of them as an unsupervised little boy, looking for things to do and some change to make. Business wasn't ever particularly busy in a town their size (though being right off the highway was a blessing sometimes), but he thought the few shopworkers just liked having him around, eager as he was to make use of himself and learn. And to do all the trivial and trifling tasks that they didn't want to. "They paid me in sandwiches and, every week or two, maybe a five-dollar bill." One man had always given him the occasional shirt or pair of jeans, as well — clothes his own children had outgrown or could spare — when he realized little Luck wasn't cleaning up near as well as they were dirtying him. [break][break]

He'd always hated that. A proud boy, even in his too-small jeans, his ratty shoes, and the same shirt that'd been oil-stained the week before, he'd puffed his cheeks at the charity. So then the man had become firm, making it less of an offer and more of a demand — "You're filthy, kid, it's not a good look. Put on the damn shirt or get out." [break][break]

It was a little funny — in hindsight, he hadn't realized it back then — how things had been. Never once did he hear someone say, "You're Renée's boy, ain't'cha?" On the contrary, some nights his mother would come home from one of her various shifts — at the convenience store, the 24-hour truck stop, the trading post, the bar, the liquor joint — and wake him in his sleep to let him know she'd been chatted at about him. Middle-aged men in dirty FRs, shop owners, and farmers who let him sweep up their chicken coops, pausing every once in a while to tip their heads quizzically as they paid for their jerky and cigarettes — "You Luck's mom? He said his Mama worked here." [break][break]

Crouching to unlock his toolbox, Luck pulled open a drawer, sifted about for the half-empty bag of spare fuses, and quickly found it, tied up snug. "And I've worked in at least a dozen more shops between home and here. They were always the easiest places to find quick work." Untying the knot, he fished out a few 10amps, checked to make sure they hadn't been busted already, and then waddled sidelong to hold one out to Bridget between his finger and thumb. "Here. Let's try this. Might get you started. Though, if it's a bad battery that caused it to blow, could be we might have to hook you up to mine and charge for a bit." [break][break]

When she reached for it, he turned his hand and unfurled his fingers, revealing the few more in his palm. "If it's not the battery, it could be a number of other things, and probably not unlikely it'll blow again. I'd keep these on hand until we know for sure." He lifted his brow and tucked his chin, just barely. "Or until you get a new car." [break][break]

As he waited, ready to listen and watch, he folded his arms on the frame of his bed and narrowed his eyes curiously. "What brought you settlin' so far West, anyway? The only one of your siblings to really fly the coop, sounds like, too." As far as he could remember, Bridget hadn't been with the Sector for terribly long, though he couldn't recall exactly when she'd shown up. More than a year ago, certainly, but by how much... he was less sure.

it ain't like smoke gets in your clothes, naw[break]it cuts through my skin and digs in way down deep

Tag: Bridget Lacey[break]
Give me a nudge for any changes! Again, please just let me know if I need to cut anything out/down to make replying easier. xD I feel like I'm doing too much lmaoooo~

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[Bridget Lacey]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","BRIDGETpost"]

[attr="class","BRIDGETLyrics"]A cold beer on a Friday night[break]

A pair of jeans that fit just right. And the radio up.[break][break]

[attr="class","BRIDGETBody"]

Sweet home Alabama, where the skies really were so blue. Most of the time. Bridget smiled wide at the song reference, inevitable whenever someone learned where she was from. She didn’t mind though, and even though she’d heard the song about a billion times she would still sing along to it any time it came on the radio. “It’s definitely the low hanging fruit, but it’s still a really fun song.” [break][break]

The usual alternative reaction to her being from Alabama was much less fun, more demeaning. That’s why she’d spent so much time practicing speaking without the twang in her voice that was so easy to slip back into. She’d learned that she got taken more seriously when the evidence of where she was from was stripped away. Being southern made the world think you were uneducated, uncultured, uncivilized, and just generally uncouth. So it was just easier to hide where she was from most of the time. [break][break]

Luck confirmed the fuse was blown as soon as he looked at it. How he could tell was a mystery to her. There was some magical knowledge shared between people who were mechanically inclined that she just didn’t understand. [break][break]

He answered where he was from while he rooted through his truck, and Bridget smiled at the detailed way he went about it. She understood. Where she was from was only about an hour’s drive from the Florida state line, and it wasn’t but a few hours drive away from Georgia or Louisiana either. And the different parts of Alabama were very different, even if it was just in small ways. [break][break]

“I’ve actually been to Kansas, but probably about as far away as you could be from your hometown it sounds. I went for a training course just outside of Leavenworth, in Kansas City.” She knew that was in the northeastern part of the state, so she imagined it would also have felt different than the opposite side. “It was beautiful, but there was also just so much corn!” On her way in from the airport she’d passed more than a few sprawling cornfields. [break][break]

It was easy to imagine a kid hanging around a shop, doing whatever tasks they could for lunch or a couple bucks here and there. “I bet you and my brother would have been fast friends growing up.” She laughed. “My grandad started working at a shop part time after he retired, just cause he loved it. And mom would drop my brother and me off on Saturday mornings when she had to go to work. Obviously, I didn’t pick anything up, but Aaron took to it like a pig to mud.” Aaron was never one to sit there quietly while she met with clients, so she’d drop them off with her dad on her way to the office. Aaron loved getting his hands dirty, and would do anything their papaw would let him do. Bridget usually just sat in the office and read a book or worked on her homework, no interest in getting her hands covered in oil or car gunk. [break][break]

He held out the replacement fuse, with several spares in his hand as well. He made a similar remark about her getting a new car that Aaron would have, and it made her smile. “Well, unfortunately that may just be necessary soon.” She took the outstretched fuse to put it back in the slot where they’d taken the old one out. “Thank you.” Once it was back in place she turned the key to try the engine. It clicked like it wanted to start this time, but then didn’t. “Well, I think that’s some improvement, at least.” [break][break]

When he asked her what brought her out west she thought for a moment. This was never where she thought that she’d end up, but she wasn’t unhappy about it. “I actually only moved out here when I got reassigned. I was working on the East coast for the first few years with the Sector. Honestly, I didn’t even apply for this job, I was trying to apply for the FBI.” She shrugged. “Got recruited for the Sector instead. After almost three years based in the Atlanta area I got reassigned out here. It happened at a good time, I was ready to get away from Alabama and Georgia for sure.” And away from her mistakes, poor choices that risked everything she’d worked towards. [break][break]

“What got you to leave Kansas?” She was curious if he’d planned to be there, or if things had just fallen into place, piece by piece. Or he could have also come here for work. Of course, there were always people who didn’t want to stay where they were born, especially in small southern towns, so she wouldn’t be surprised if that had played into it. But if he’d planned it, she was curious as to why Los Eurosia? [break]

[attr="class","BRIDGETNotes"]Luck Harris [break]
Let me know for changes.

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[Luck Harris]

[nospaces]

[googlefont=Bitter]

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[attr="class","post-frosttalon-title-small"]SOMETHIN BOUT STARLIGHT ON KANSAS

[attr="class","post-frosttalon-subtitle-small"]the way a wheat field dances, fence posts as far as the eye can see

Luck grinned, eyes brightening, when Bridget said she'd been to Kansas. Even if it was as far as possible from where he'd grown up, the mention of an ever-unifying statewide crop earned a quick laugh. "So much corn," he echoed quietly, pinching his eyes shut with an amused quirk to his lips. And so much wheat. And soybeans. And milo. He'd worked them all and just thinking about harvest brought a specific, remembered taste to his mouth (as well as a phantom hurt to his nose and an itch to his eyes). [break][break]

When she mentioned her brother and the suspicion that he and Luck might have made "fast friends" as kids, he let his grin pull the tiniest bit fuller; gaze flitting downward while he dipped his head thoughtfully. "Yeah, probably," he chuckled amicably, though internally he couldn't help but doubt it. He hadn't had many friends growing up. Making them hadn't been a natural thing for him. Eventually — after being snapped up by a football coach and practically forced onto the field — he'd been pulled into some circles. Had friends for a minute. People he got drunk with, hung out with, attended bonfires with, and tore up muddy fields with. [break][break]

But he'd still felt like an outsider a lot of the time. [break][break]

Which hadn't been anyone's fault but his own. While it was easy to claim he had been weird and people just "didn't like him"... he'd come to realize it was more that... he hadn't really made himself available to anyone, back then. It was true that he'd been poorer than most. Had had to work all the time and couldn't commit to a lot outside of it. But a lot of kids in his town had been working kids, too. Perhaps not as earnestly, or as much out of necessity as he'd been, but — he hadn't been unique in that. No... more than just being busy, he'd been closed off. Holed away in his head. Not reaching out and not being receptive when someone else reached out to him. [break][break]

Even if her brother had been the friendliest person in the world, even if he and Luck thought similarly and did similar things as kids — he imagined he'd have walled him out. Or been too off-putting and dull to make any persistent effort to befriend him at all bearable. [break][break]

Luck's gaze lifted as Bridget tried starting the car again, his attention snapping back in place at the sound of it wanting to crank. As she said, it was an improvement — with a new starter/ignition switch fuse, at least it was trying now. Luck patted at the truck frame beneath him, mouth pulling to one side of his face thoughtfully, and then he stood. "I'll swap some relays around, see if we can't pinpoint a problem there. If not, we'll just charge and cross our fingers." Her vehicle was notorious for electric issues. He still imagined there was an underlying problem that'd have to be diagnosed — something putting a drain and strain on her battery, causing it to pull too much and blow its fuses. But he couldn't rule out the other obvious (perhaps simpler) possibilities. While a bad battery was the best case scenario... it could be her alternator, fuel pump, relays... [break][break]

She asked what had taken him from Kansas. [break][break]

"The highway," Luck answered simply, one corner of his mouth tugging into a small grin as he recalled the day he put rubber to the road and left Meade in his rearview mirror — wind ripping through his open windows while he watched the shape of the co-op elevators become smaller and smaller upon the horizon behind him. He hadn't let himself feel wistful — or even appropriately daunted — until he passed into New Mexico from Texas some hours later. [break][break]

Stepping once more over the side of his truck, Luck paused with one foot on his tire. "Oh," he lifted his head with a squint, grin splitting infinitesimally wider as he realized (belatedly) how that might sound. "I wasn't being a smart-ass," he finished hopping down and straightened, then stepped forward to pull open the door to his backseat. "I meant that more... poetically than literally. A... charm of the open road sorta thing." He pulled his jumper cables from where they were rolled up, neat and clean, under the seats, and turned back. "Land-locked, small-town boys... y'know how it goes." He shut his door and stepped to the front of her car again, pausing to cast her a quick, joking look. "We always wanna see the ocean." [break][break]

The truth was, he'd been little more than a boy, then — he could see that now that he was older — a seventeen-year-old boy with a fake ID who thought himself a grown man because he'd spent years of his life working among them. Because he knew how to act and sound like them. Because he smoked cigarettes, drank beer, and had rough hands, too. [break][break]

But he'd been young. [break][break]

Too young to have anything figured out — himself, especially. And probably too young to have no one looking after him or to fall back on when he made his mistakes. He'd been a runner. Reckless and without aim, without guidance, sprinting heedlessly in whatever random direction he pointed his truck down. Never knowing what he was searching for or what he even wanted. Knowing even less how he was supposed to fit into people's lives or where they belonged in his. The only thing he had known then, was what to do when the gas tank ran dry — how to get going again when he stuttered to a stop and needed to make money. [break][break]

And, with little understanding of much else, he'd always fallen back on what he knew — always kept going. Kept sprinting. [break][break]

Dropping the coiled cable to the ground, Luck shrugged his shoulders. "Not that I hated Kansas or anything. I loved it... for the most part. And I miss it sometimes. But fortunately... you don't have to drive too far around here to find somewhere quiet and slow." He shrugged again. "When you need to." He bent back over the engine bay and wriggled off the fuse cover once more, glanced at the back of it, and carefully switched the positions of her starter and blower motor relay. It wouldn't be a fix, but if the problem was her relay, then at least they'd know and could replace it. "Alright, turn her again, let's see."

it ain't like smoke gets in your clothes, naw[break]it cuts through my skin and digs in way down deep

Tag: Bridget Lacey[break]
Give me a nudge for any changes! Or if you need more, I know this is a lot of sdkfjhak

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[Bridget Lacey]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","BRIDGETpost"]

[attr="class","BRIDGETLyrics"]A cold beer on a Friday night[break]

A pair of jeans that fit just right. And the radio up.[break][break]

[attr="class","BRIDGETBody"]

Crop farming wasn’t completely unfamiliar to Bridget, even if her family wasn’t directly involved. But she’d never seen fields as vast as the ones she passed by when she was visiting Kansas. The tall stalks of corn were the only ones she could vividly remember. While the miles of road rolled beneath, she had stared out the window and imagined corn mazes and harvest celebrations that were likely prevalent in smaller and larger towns alike. [break][break]

“The area I grew up in was all peanuts and cotton, but there were cornfields in other parts of the state.” Bridget scrunched her nose, remembering the peanut harvest season. There was a large tract of land just outside of Enterprise, but she knew there were many others as well. The end of summer was always marked not only by a return to school, but also the dust that would soon settle over town, setting off allergies and asthma attacks until almost Halloween. “I definitely don’t miss the amount of dirt and dust that the peanut harvest kicks up.” She shook her head and laughed lightly. “The festival was always a good time, though.” [break][break]

Bridget was sure that the peanut festival was just like any other fair or carnival. Filled with food, rides, games, and excitement. When she’d been little she always begged her parents to let her go on the big ferris wheel so she could see out for miles, imagining it was further than that. She would think about all the places she wanted to go, and when she was up at the top of the ride she remembered feeling like she could touch the sky. When she was a little older, the festival was a place to go with friends or with dates. [break][break]

Just thinking about it almost made her miss homesick. But there was a whole big world to explore, and she enjoyed being in California, for the most part. [break][break]

Bridget gave a small chuckle when Luck said the highway was what brought him from Kansas. Then he clarified that it wasn’t sarcasm, and elaborated what he’d meant. [break][break]

“I can definitely understand that.” Bridget smiled wide. “Oceans, mountains, rivers, all the wonders of the world. I want to see everything.” Traveling had always been one of her passions, not that she got to go on as many trips as she would have liked. She’d been to a few places on her bucket list so far though, and she planned to keep going to new places as often as she could both get the time off and afford it. [break][break]

“Besides, it’s not like it’s not still there, if you ever wanted to go back anyway.” Unless there was some reason why he didn’t want to go back, though she wasn’t going to ask about that just now. If there was something, he’d talk about it if he wanted to. [break][break]

Bridget went back to the driver’s seat and turned the key when Luck instructed her to do so. It didn’t sound like the healthiest engine, but after a second of trying, it seemed like something sputtered back to life and the engine started up. [break][break]

“Whatever magic you did seems to have revived it.” She got up and walked to the front of the car. “Now the only problem is I’m supposed to go back to work, and I don’t want to.” [break]

[attr="class","BRIDGETNotes"]Luck Harris [break]
Let me know for changes or if you need more to work with.

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[Luck Harris]

[nospaces]

[googlefont=Bitter]

[attr="class","post-frosttalonwheat-o"]

[attr="class","frosttalonwheat-post"]

[attr="class","post-frosttalon-title-small"]SOMETHIN BOUT STARLIGHT ON KANSAS

[attr="class","post-frosttalon-subtitle-small"]the way a wheat field dances, fence posts as far as the eye can see

Luck's amusement remained fixed as Bridget mentioned harvest and festivals, her reminiscing thoughts seeming to align close to his own. It was a little refreshing. "Nothing wrong with a little dirt and dust. Especially when it rains and it all becomes mud." He shook his head, feeling abruptly nostalgic. Then, when she sympathized about his wanting to see the ocean, saying how she wanted to see everything, his gaze lifted to her. [break][break]

"Everything?" He whistled, short and quiet through his teeth, and looked back to the car. "Now that's a lofty goal. Don't know that it's possible in a single lifetime." The world was large and traveling — seeing bits and pieces of it — did nothing to make it seem any less large. [break][break]

He considered himself incredibly fortunate to have traveled as much as he had. To have visited so many places. But no matter how exhausting and fulfilling any given trip was, most of the time it never felt like enough. By the time he and Nate got home and returned to their daily lives — before the soreness could even work from his muscles or the jetlag from his mind — he caught himself longing for "next time". It was addicting. There didn't ever seem to be enough time in a day, or enough days in a year, to see everything. And Luck supposed, when he died, he'd look back and think there hadn't been enough years in his life for it all, either. [break][break]

He breathed a chuckle and tipped his head. "We can sure as hell try our best though." He straightened from the engine bay, casting Bridget another curious glance as she moved back toward the driver's seat. "I know Alabama has got some pretty amazing National Forests. Talladega... Bankhead... Tuskegee... and you're not too far from the Smoky Mountains, either. I've been there." He grinned, thinking briefly of how beautiful it'd been. "And Pensacola — ah, I bet you've been to Pensacola, huh?" [break][break]

At her mention of his hometown still being there — that he could always go back (if he wanted to), Luck simply shrugged a shoulder. "Suppose that's true," he agreed, keeping his mouth (more consciously) quirked. [break][break]

When he'd left, he'd thought no one would notice or care. But nowadays, he suspected if he went back, people... might recognize him. It'd been a small town after all. He'd see familiar faces and hear remembered names — people he'd grown up with and who'd never left, taking the place of their parents in farms and shops and stores and raising up kids of their own (who'd be doing all the same stuff they'd gotten up to as rowdy teens). Maybe they'd turn the look of him in their mind for a long moment before grinning wide.[break][break]

'Luck Harris... hey brother, we wondered what happened to you.' [break][break]

He'd pulled Meade up on a satellite map once, a couple of years ago. Played around with the layers and moved about on streetview, taking note of the new buildings and stores that hadn't been there when he had. A Dollar Tree. A new gas station (with a Subway inside). The school had a new football field. Someone had redone the murals on the brick side of a lot of the downtown buildings.[break][break]

But just as many new things as he'd seen, there'd been things that hadn't survived. Shops and stores that'd closed down and been shuttered — presumably abandoned when the owners died and whoever took it over didn't quite run it the same. Family businesses with no family willing to keep it going. The trailer park he'd spent years in was no longer there.[break][break]

Stuff like that simply happened with time, he supposed. But he knew the co-op elevators would always be there. There'd always be boys in garages, saving up money to lift their trucks. Bars that didn't check IDs. Someone's cool, older brother supplying a bonfire with thirty packs. Kids barely making it through football practice because they'd been up all night and coaches who knew it — because they'd been them once — but offered no sympathy. That way of life, no doubt, hadn't changed by a whole lot. It probably looked a little shinier in some areas. But places like Meade and the people who lived there, they were a breed hard to snuff out. [break][break]

"You go back home often?" Luck asked, shelving his inner thoughts as he considered how Bridget had come to California for work. It seemed a long way to go for a job. If she still had family in Alabama, and was on apparent speaking-terms with her brother, then he could imagine she spent — at the very least — her holidays there. [break][break]

The question went momentarily unanswered as the car sputtered to life. Luck grinned wider as he listened to it for a moment, then bent to pick up the jumper cables he'd pulled out a little too quickly. When Bridget stepped back around, commenting on work, he shook his head forlornly. "Ah... can't help you there, unfortunately." As he stepped around her and put up his cables, he noted the time on his watch.[break][break]

He supposed it was a little too early in the day for Bridget to really want to take the rest of it in lost hours. He could only guess she probably had other appointments. As far as he could tell, she always seemed to keep pretty busy in the office. Was always on some job or stuck behind a stack of papers. He grimaced, then slid himself into her driver's seat and fiddled with the interface. "Well, you do have a bad relay," he commented, shaking his head again at the complete lack of airflow that met his ministrations. "Shouldn't hurt anything to drive it to work and back if you need to go. You just won't have your AC, heater, or even a fan now." And she'd definitely want to replace it sooner rather than later, before the faulty relay blew something else or melted. [break][break]

Sucking in a breath, Luck stepped from the car and replaced the fuse panel cover that he'd pulled from her dash. "But... if you wanted..." he kept his voice light as he moved, hoping his suggestion didn't sound too forward (or like he was desperate for something to do — he was). "I could take and drop you off at the office. If you've got appointments and the like." He turned to her and quirked his lips. "Pick you up and bring you back after your shift? That should give me more than enough time to replace your relay. Maybe check to see if there isn't anything else that could be causing problems."[break][break]

He squinted thoughtfully, thinking how he did need to get a new code reader anyway. A new fuse checker. He'd left both of his in Harmony last year and had never replaced them. Now he wasn't sure he'd be back there again to pick them up. Then he could check her vehicle for any other faults. Top off her fluids. Check his own. All while he played some music from his phone and thought about nothing else for however long it took. He shrugged. "It'd give me something to do anyway. Y'know, keep the head clear and the hands busy."[break][break]

He lifted his brow, before tilting forward and continuing (with a little more humor), "No worries... I wouldn't 'chop-shop' ya. You know where I work, after all. And besides, Nate would never set you up with someone he thought might leave you on cinder blocks."

it ain't like smoke gets in your clothes, naw[break]it cuts through my skin and digs in way down deep

Tag: Bridget Lacey [break]
Give me a nudge for any changes or if I need to tweak/change something! This is a wreck and I'M SORRY. I really do be straight YOLO-ing rn sdfkhasdkjf

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[Bridget Lacey]

[nospaces]

[attr="class","BRIDGETpost"]

[attr="class","BRIDGETLyrics"]A cold beer on a Friday night[break]

A pair of jeans that fit just right. And the radio up.[break][break]

[attr="class","BRIDGETBody"]

The mud that Luck brought up was both fun and an absolute annoyance, if you asked her mama. When the rains came during festivals, fields turned to mud pits faster than you could run to cover. She'd spend plenty of time splashing in the puddles. Even busted tail and slid several yards before coming to an abrupt halt, giggling the whole time. That same day her foot got stuck in the mushy ground, and when she pulled it up her shoe was gone. She never did find that shoe, and ended up ditching the other one before she ever made it back home. [break][break]

“Our mama was cross for over a week after Aaron and I came back from the peanut festival covered in mud once. We ran our clothes through the washer, and apparently we clogged it up with so much muck that she had to call someone out to fix it.” She smirked. “Aaron said he'd try, but she told him the both of us had done enough damage already.” Bridget honestly couldn't remember what had happened first, the washer getting repaired or her getting the last traces of mud out of her thick hair. It had taken several washes, but she had no regrets and she would have done it all over again. [break][break]

While Luck was absolutely correct, there was no way that she was going to see everything in her lifetime, she was going to have a good time trying. Besides, how much more would she see if she was aiming for everything? [break][break]

“I’ve been to Pensacola several times, yeah. And most of the other beaches thereabout, from Gulf Shores to Panama City. Pensacola was only about 2 hours away from Enterprise.” There had been several occasions where she’d skipped school and a group of them had driven down to the beaches. She couldn’t get away with it as much as some of her friends did, but as long as her grades kept up her parents didn’t get on to her too harshly when she came home sunkissed and happy after a day by the gulf. [break][break]

Bridget was going to lament that she didn’t get back home as much as she’d like to, but the engine did something else that took Luck’s attention. It was just as well, anything she’d say would just be an excuse, a way to convince herself that she actually wanted to go back more but couldn’t. In reality, she liked the idea of visiting home far more than actually going. Her parents always tried to plan things at the same time, both wanting to see her but not wanting to be near each other. It was understandable, but it made trips stressful. So she had only been back to Alabama a couple times since she’d moved to California. Instead, she’d been trying to convince her family members to visit her, separately. She was pretty sure that she’d convinced the baby boy, her youngest brother, to come out to see her when he was on spring break this school year. She was excited about that, and had already put in a request for that week off so she could hang out with him. [break][break]

When he explained that she had a bad relay, and that it could melt, Bridget realized it was going to be more involved than just replacing a battery would have been. Of course, it couldn’t be that easy. Not with the cursed Kia. Bridget was about to decline Luck’s offer to bring her back to the office and work on the car, but then he added that it would give him something to do. [break][break]

She laughed lightly at his joking and shook her head, then sighed. “Okay, but only if you are sure it isn’t too much trouble?” She didn’t want him to sacrifice his day if he’d really had other plans, but she didn’t get a sense that was the case. “I suppose getting through my backlog of paperwork is probably better than taking almost a full day of vacation hours, as much as I hate paperwork.” The corners of her mouth tugged into a grin, thinking about all the ways she’d tried to get out of doing her paperwork before. She’d volunteer to do almost any task that didn’t involve sitting at her desk, which was how she got so far behind on her paperwork in the first place. [break]

[attr="class","BRIDGETNotes"]Luck Harris [break]
Let me know for changes or if you need more to work with.

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[googlefont=Karla][googlefont=Caveat][googlefont=Pacifico]

[Luck Harris]

[nospaces]

[googlefont=Bitter]

[attr="class","post-frosttalonwheat-o"]

[attr="class","frosttalonwheat-post"]

[attr="class","post-frosttalon-title-small"]SOMETHIN BOUT STARLIGHT ON KANSAS

[attr="class","post-frosttalon-subtitle-small"]the way a wheat field dances, fence posts as far as the eye can see

Bridget's recounting of muddy festivals, broken washing machines, and the resulting (week-long) mad Mama earned a chuckle under Luck's breath. He could imagine it perfectly. And the imagining was enough that he could very nearly hear his own mother's voice, lamenting about oil stains or the mud and stink he brought in on his clothes and boots. Eventually, she'd forced him to start stripping on the porch before stepping through the door of their trailer. [break][break]

At his offer to take her back to the office, Luck watched the consideration flit across Bridget's face. For a moment, he supposed she was going to refuse, and he began debating whether or not he should attempt to talk her into it. [break][break]

Insisting always seemed a tedious and risky thing. He himself hated having to say 'no' more than once. And he didn't want to inadvertently press her if the prospect was uncomfortable or if she didn't want to go back to work. But some people — he'd realized at some point, probably long after most — needed that insistence. Required reassurance that they weren't putting someone out or thought that, if they accepted too quickly, they'd come across a certain way. It was almost like a courtesy to some, whereas Luck had always seen it as a repetitive and quickly exhausting back-and-forth. If he said he was happy to do it, then he was happy to do it. And if she responded that she wasn't happy to let him, why should he believe that was something he could — or should — talk her into?[break][break]

But, before he could think himself into a loop — wondering if she wanted him to convince her "it was okay" or if doing so would be as annoying to her as it would be to him — Bridget agreed. Only if he was certain. Her mouth pulled into a grin and Luck matched it, more relieved than he probably had the right to be for having avoided the half-expected, half-dreaded (and completely uncertain) verbal spar. "I'm sure. You'll be doing me a favor, honest. And anyway," he tipped his head, smile tugging the tiniest bit wider and eyes narrowing (just barely). "Who am I to stand between a gal and her beloathed paperwork?" [break][break]

He handed off her keys so she could gather whatever she might need and lock up while he stepped back around the front of the car. He wriggled out the faulty relay to pocket, took one last look about (making a mental note about what other work — or general clean-up — he could do), replaced her fuse cover, and dropped her hood. Then he grinned to himself — he'd have to pick up the most hilarious (or, if none were particularly funny, then at least the tackiest) air freshener he could find in the automotive store to hang from her rearview mirror. [break][break]

Luck climbed into his driver's seat and started his truck. He buckled up, then quickly leaned across to toss the couple of ballcaps from the passenger seat and onto the dash when the door popped open and drew his gaze. As Bridget climbed in, he turned the radio dial from its already low volume to an even more muted hum — though he could be proven wrong, he felt no anxious foreboding that there'd be any uncomfortable silence to fill with noise. "Anywhere we need to stop on the way?" He asked, backing out of the parking spot and starting them on a circuit around the apartment complex. "And, you started on the East Coast and ended up on the West Coast. You have a favorite place in between? Saving up those vacation hours for somewhere special?" [break][break]

Abruptly, he wondered if he was talking too much. Asking too much. Wasn't that something that would, more often than not, annoy him, too? But, just as quickly as the thought occurred to him, he brushed it off. He knew — or had been told — it was a proclivity of his to overthink. To become anxious needlessly. And that, if he was rubbing someone the wrong way, they'd probably make it known. Ideally, they'd simply say so. But it was almost difficult to not latch onto the worry as it sprung on him. To stop himself from reaching for her with his empathy and ensure she wasn't putting on a front or hiding any flashes of irritation.

it ain't like smoke gets in your clothes, naw[break]it cuts through my skin and digs in way down deep

Tag: Bridget Lacey [break]
Give me a nudge for changes or if you need more!

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[newclass=.post-frosttalon-subtitle-small]font-size:10px;color:#385953;text-align:left;margin-left:-10px;font-style:italic;[/newclass]

[Bridget Lacey]

[nospaces]

A cold beer on a Friday night

A pair of jeans that fit just right. And the radio up.

[break]

[attr="class","BRID"]

---

[break]


“I get that we have to keep track of things and whatever, but whoever decided that our reports had to be so complex really just hates joy.” She shook her head and laughed lightly. “Or maybe I just got burnt out on paperwork in college and I get restless too easily now. That’s probably really it.” She was aware of the fact that it was very much a her problem, and not so much the demands of the job. It was just documentation, but it felt like it drained her soul a bit each time she sat at the desk to tackle it. [break][break]

Bridget moved around her car, grabbing her work bag, making sure her ID badges (all three she had to carry) were in the bag, and pulled the sweater she’d discarded in the back seat in case it was chilly back in the office. “I think that’s everything.” She took a glance around the interior and didn’t spot anything glaring that she would need to get through the rest of the shift, so she locked the doors and turned to see Luck already getting into his truck. [break][break]

Country boys and trucks always seemed to go together. She wasn’t surprised to find the inside of the Silverado just as impeccably clean as the outside. She hopped up into the passenger seat and dropped her bag on the floorboard. She noted the Jeff Gordon air freshener that looked like it was older than the truck, and she also saw the picture pinned to the visor. Her gaze lingered a beat longer than it should, but they both looked so happy in the picture. She didn’t know much about it, clearly, and didn’t know either of them well enough to pry. [break][break]

“Nah, I think I’ve got everything I need with me or back at the office already.” She thought about his next question carefully. She’d been to a lot of different states over the years, and they all had their different quirks. Could she pick out a favorite? The majority of the places she’d been stateside had been bigger cities for work, and she didn’t tend to favor the busy rush in places like New York and Chicago. [break][break]

“If I had to pick a favorite place in the US… I’d have to say New Orleans. The sense of history and culture, the people there, the vibrancy of the whole city. And for me, it was really exciting to hear the mix of languages used frequently.” She crossed one leg over the other and shifted to face Luck a bit more fully as she continued. “But if we’re talking about where I’m saving PTO up to travel, it’s Italy. I’ve been there once and I’ve been pinning away thinking about going back since. What about you? What’s your favorite place you’ve ever been?” She asked before really thinking the question through. “Or a bucket list place you’d love to go to?” She added, just in case he hadn't traveled very many places. [break][break]

It wasn’t like everyone traveled, or even liked traveling, as much as she did. She considered herself fortunate on many levels, because she got to go to conferences and trainings around the country and see places that she’d never been before. She usually had at least a free afternoon, or even most of a day of downtime where she was able to explore on her own. [break][break]

She also didn’t have a spouse or kids or other people she was responsible for financially, so she had the disposable income once all her bills were paid. Well, maybe she wouldn’t this year if she ended up needing to replace her car, but right now she was still hoping she could baby it along for another year or so. [break][break]

---

[break]

Luck Harris [break]
Let me know for changes.

[newclass=.BRID b]color: #097969;[/newclass]
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[googlefont=Hurricane]

[Luck Harris]

[nospaces]

[googlefont=Bitter]

[attr="class","post-frosttalonwheat-o"]

[attr="class","frosttalonwheat-post"]

[attr="class","post-frosttalon-title-small"]SOMETHIN BOUT STARLIGHT ON KANSAS

[attr="class","post-frosttalon-subtitle-small"]the way a wheat field dances, fence posts as far as the eye can see

Listening to her choices, Luck nodded along attentively while he navigated them from the apartment complex and into the Los Eurosia streets. He was familiar with the city and, though it wasn't a route "Google Maps" would likely put anyone on, he opted for a bit of a "backroad" route to their work. While it was a little longer, and a little more scenic, the lack of traffic and stoplights tended to make any loss of time marginal. [break][break]

"I haven't been to either of them," Luck admitted, tipping his head thoughtfully. "Though I imagine New Orleans is a lot of fun," his first thoughts were of music, Mardi Gras, and voodoo — loud, bright nights and narrow, packed streets. "And Italy... well... reckon it'd be worth it for the architecture alone." They were nice picks. And he was pleased to know she had a passport. That she'd had the opportunity to not only already travel, but seemed keen to do more of it. A lot of people didn't have the luxury. Or felt they didn't have the option. And some people, they found the whole thing more tiring than it was worth. [break][break]

But people like him and Nate, perhaps Bridget too — once they got a taste, it was hard to shake. [break][break]

And Luck had to be careful sometimes. Every once in a while, he caught himself putting too much emphasis on traveling. He'd find himself in a foul mood for weeks, unable to shake the heaviness and restlessness of monotony, routine, and work. Of things always being the same. He'd walk around like a dark, thundering cloud, unbearable to everyone around him just as much as they were (quite suddenly and inexplicably) unbearable to him. [break][break]

Usually only after things came to a head in some ugly way, would he pause and remind himself that there were things he loved about being here, too. That he couldn't drudge through his daily life while clinging to only a few weeks of "respite" a year. Then he'd shake the storm. Remind himself to visit the local lakes, the cabins, the park, or just take a long hike or a county drive, and find the same beauty and solace in them, too. Perhaps pull a recipe from one of the places they'd visited and take a crack at recreating it. Remember that he could love making dinner, watching TV reruns, and walking the dog, too. [break][break]

He considered Bridget's returned questions — his favorite of the places he'd been or where he'd like to go. [break][break]

His mind churned through the latter first. Where was next? It was about that time of year he'd typically be considering such things. His PTO bank was brimming with the hours to burn. But now... with his new apartment and moving... there was the (no longer small) matter of building back up his "fun fund". And... honestly... no destination immediately leaped to mind. His fingers tightened on the steering wheel and he hummed in his throat, announcing his thinking in an attempt to buy him some time. [break][break]

He only barely kept his gaze from flickering upward to regard the photograph pinned to the visor above his head. [break][break]

Ever since settling in Los Eurosia, he hadn't traveled by himself. It wouldn't really be the same, would it? All the vacations he'd taken and the places he'd seen, Nate had been with him or they'd been with a small group of friends. And, as much as Luck romanticized his lonely, wandering years... truthfully... it hadn't been a lot of fun most of the time. It'd been a lot, lot less glamorous than he chose to make it when he recounted it in his stories. And now, after seeing the world with someone else, he figured there'd be far less charm to doing it alone. [break][break]

Traveling with Nate or with friends they loved, it'd felt a lot less like "leaving home" and more like "taking home elsewhere". Without the laughs of it all... the shared plan-making, excitement, and even exhaustion... could it still be enjoyable? Everything that was new and wild, that awed and stole his breath... what was the point... if he couldn't look at someone beside him and see the same wonder mirrored in them? If they couldn't share it? Return home and talk about it and bring it all up to sigh wistfully about days, weeks, and years later? [break][break]

The thought threatened a very fresh, very raw ache. [break]
But now wasn't the time. [break][break]

"Greece, for certain," Luck declared finally, following the decision with a slow, spreading grin. Once he'd sunburned, sunburned, sunburned, and then finally started to tan, all in the span of a couple of amazing weeks — there'd been nothing like it. He hadn't wanted to leave and it'd taken Nate a couple of failed attempts to drag him from bed the morning of their flight. 'We can just stay here,' he'd groaned around a grin as he buried himself in the sheets. And really, that morning, he'd briefly believed it. That they could stay anywhere they wanted. Go anywhere and simply decide not to come back. [break][break]

Of course, that sort of thinking had been present in Luck long before Nate. He could always leave. Always start over somewhere new. Leave everything behind. He had done it. Over and over and over again. But with Nate, the feeling had been a little larger. Had grown to make room for him. Become dependent on him. Like a footnote added at the end of the statement — 'I can stay here, if you stay with me'.[break][break]

"It's beautiful, obviously. Don't think the word does it much justice, but what word would? The buildings, the museums, the people, and Lord, Bridget... the food." He chuckled, mouth threatening to salivate at the thought. "Santorini, too. Its cliffs. The sunsets on the water and all the little shops. I can't imagine how much more brilliant it'd be, to be able to read all the writing everywhere and talk to the people, though." He rolled his head on his shoulders, face turning her direction and gaze landing (with a joking sort of flatness) on her face. He lifted a brow. "I'm jealous."[break][break]

He chuckled again, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.[break][break]

"The Sector, they pushed me to learn a new language or two when I first joined up." Which had made a lot of sense. The agency was big on efficiency — on results — when it came to utilizing their employees' Gifts. And his ability to persuade was entirely reliant on someone understanding his spoken word. Language was an obvious obstacle. But, even as enthusiastic as he'd been to learn, he'd been dogshit at it from the beginning. He could probably string together a couple of semi-decent sentences in Spanish but... not with enough confidence or speed to be influential. "And I really did try. I wanted to. But," he shrugged a shoulder. "I don't think my brain is wired for that sort of thing." He smirked, voice dropping to match the curl at his lips as he glanced sidelong through the driver's window. "Hell... finding the right words in English is tricky enough most days."[break][break]

He tipped his head, eyes screwing a bit as he looked back through the windshield. He'd said it as a joke — a little jab at himself, his frequent lack of social grace, and all the times he found himself fumbling through conversation like a fifteen-year-old boy in the dark of a truck cab (clumsy fingers trying and failing to work the clasps of a bra-strap). But the humor was followed by an inward pinch of chill. [break][break]

Unbiddenly, his mind leaped to the meeting with his supervisor before he'd been ordered on leave. The thorough and impassive recollection of all his shortcomings that proceeded this most recent one. The unending stream of questions about his pattern of hesitance and the choices he'd made. Questions after questions, as if they expected the answer to the next to be any different than the last. All while he'd sat there with blood still caked in his nostrils and his hands wringing themselves beneath the table above the frantic bob of a knee.[break][break]

"Then... of course... you add the stress of the high-stakes situations they put us in on top of that... and," Luck pursed his lips, catching the words in his teeth. He'd started thoughtlessly, perhaps lulled by the unspoken understanding that Bridget would be able to empathize. She'd get it. They'd been thrown together on enough of the same cases to know what was expected of them in the field. How tricky (or impossible) things could be. How easily, quickly, and terribly a precarious situation could go wrong and how things tended to fall when they did. But... it was a part of her title, part of what she did... whereas Luck was just pulled into the fray when options were limited. Perhaps he didn't have room to bitch. Or just shouldn't bitch.[break][break]

It was too fresh. That was all. He hadn't sat with it long enough to keep it clamped down. Hadn't worked through it. By the end of his suspension, when he returned to work, he'd have it nailed down. Probably. At least, until the next time.[break][break]

"Well," Luck continued after a moment, shooting her a quick, apologetic look. He loosened his hold on the steering wheel, cracking the knuckles of his fingers with the press of his thumb while he made the conscious effort to loosen himself up as well. "Don't know how you do it sometimes." He quirked his lips fleetingly, then sucked in a centering breath and returned his attention to the road. "Anyway... I think for my next trip... I'll have to go somewhere I haven't been before. Somewhere hot, probably."

it ain't like smoke gets in your clothes, naw[break]it cuts through my skin and digs in way down deep

Tag: Bridget Lacey [break]
This one got away from me a bit, sorry TvT[break]
Give me a nudge for any changes/tweaks![break]
Or if you want me to break it down at all!

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[newclass=.post-frosttalon-subtitle-small]font-size:10px;color:#385953;text-align:left;margin-left:-10px;font-style:italic;[/newclass]

[Bridget Lacey]

[nospaces]

A cold beer on a Friday night

A pair of jeans that fit just right. And the radio up.

[break]

[attr="class","BRID"]

---

[break]


At first, when he said he hadn't been to either city he mentioned, Bridget wondered if maybe he didn’t enjoy travel after all, if he was more of a homebody who just had a mild curiosity about other places but didn’t actually go through the hassle involved with traveling. Or maybe he just hadn't had the chance to do so. There were plenty of people she knew that fell into both of those categories. Hell, she didn’t think Aaron would have ever been past the Alabama state line if their mother first, then she herself hadn't moved to Georgia. [break][break]

It was less than four hours to drive between Atlanta and Enterprise, and he whined about how far it was each time he visited her there. Well, each time except the last time, when he came to help her move back. [break][break]

Then, after what seemed like careful consideration that Bridget was not tempted to rush, Luck answered. Bridget’s smile widened, and she could just picture it as he described Greece. Neighbor of Italy, she imagined that they had a similar though distinctly different vibe to each other. She would love to take a vacation long enough to explore both countries, to see the way they had influenced one another in culture and cuisine. To compare and contrast the beaches, the museums, the historical wonders they both held. That would be a dream trip. [break][break]

“Greece is absolutely on my list of places I have to see someday. It sounds incredible.” Bridget chuckled softly. “Being able to talk with people is convenient. And it usually gets me directions to more local and authentic restaurants and experiences. But, unless I’ve already studied it, unfortunately I can’t read the signs and menus and things.” She would love if her gift extended to reading and writing languages as well as understanding and speaking them, but alas, she would just have to settle for it being easier to learn to do so than it was for most. [break][break]

The Sector loved to push them to do more, to be more useful to the organization. It was like whatever they could do, whoever they were never seemed to be enough. She briefly wondered if they did the same to their non-Gifted agents, or if they saved the pushing and demanding for the Gifted ones. [break][break]

“Well, fuck them for pressuring you though.” She could tell there was something else there, something weighing on his thoughts, but she put effort into blocking them out, not invading his privacy or overstepping. Sometimes she couldn’t help it, some thoughts were just too loud, but for now she was able to keep it at bay. “They just want us to be able to perform as many tricks as we can, even when it’s stuff we aren’t really suited for.” [break][break]

She could only nod as he went on about the high-stakes high stress assignments they were handed. Bridget knew that was what she was signing herself up for, it had been what she’d been trying to do with the FBI when she started the application process and was recruited to the Sector instead. But she knew that a lot of the other agents, like Luck, were just thrown in without the proper training. The Sector seemed to think their gifts were more important than training in many instances. [break][break]

Even with the training she’d received, some of her cases stuck with her. Haunting in ways that she wasn’t willing to talk to anyone else in her life about. Why should she traumatize them as well? But she knew that Luck had experienced some of the same things, he'd have been through something horrific if he was off for the week. That was the way the Sector did things. Something went south, broke bad, and they pinned it on whoever was there with a gift trying to save the situation from going wrong. It didn’t matter how much they tried, how much they hurt themselves in the process. They’d get slapped with a week off for ‘mental health’, though they didn’t get paid for that time. Then they’d come back like nothing ever happened and aside from any report that needed to be completed, no one would ask them about it. No one would really care how they felt about it. [break][break]

It had been a bit since her own last forced time off, but she always made sure to keep an emergency fund now because there was no telling when one could happen. [break][break]

“It’s not always easy. If you wanna talk about it, decompress or whatever, I’m happy to be a sounding board.” She wasn’t sure if he’d want to or not. Sometimes it was better to talk about it, to get it all out and then you could move on. Other times, talking about the unpleasant brought you right back, made it linger and stick to you. She obviously didn’t know what he’d dealt with or how he handled the aftermath, what worked best for him. [break][break]

She was just as happy to keep talking about travel, especially if that would help keep his mind off whatever was making his thoughts so loud. “Somewhere hot… have you been anywhere in South America yet? I have Peru, Brazil, and Chile near the top of my list but I haven’t been to any of them.” Maybe he’d been thinking of someplace in Africa, the Caribbean islands, Australia, or even some place like Florida, maybe the keys, it was supposed to be nice there. [break][break]

---

[break]

Luck Harris [break]
Let me know for changes.

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