bakerstreet | Rain Meme

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[meme] gen

Rain Meme

Caught in the rain

It started out quietly, and then, quite suddenly, you're caught in a storm. Time to find cover. Nothing much to do but to wait it out.

Scenarios listed below for those who want 'em.

i WHERE:
001 PLAYGROUND - Well, you can try to hide under the slide or maybe in the jungle gym... at least you're some place fun?
002 PARK - Always happens, caught outside trying to take advantage of the weather... and it ends up pulling a fast one on you.
003 STORE FRONT - Better hope they have an awning you can take advantage of.
004 THE BEACH - Not exactly the best place to be during a rainstorm, however it is possible to get caught in a sudden storm.
005 WILD CARD - Anyway you want it.

ii HOW:
001 TREE - Not the best cover, but it'll have to do, stay close to the roots and you won't get too wet.
002 UMBRELLA - Most conventional... Kinda boring. But it works.
003 NEWSPAPER - Not permanent, but it'll have to do. Good luck.
004 BAG - Well... y'gotta do what you gotta do.
005 NONE - You know what. You're a rebel. You don't need cover. Screw convention.
006 WILD CARD - that's the way you need it.

iii WHY:
001 REJECTED - Welp. Rejection sucks. And no one will see you crying in the rain.
002 WAITING - For the bus? For someone else? For some revelation? What are you waiting for.
003 MELANCHOLY - Sometimes the best place to feel a bit down is out in the rain.
004 HAPPINESS - Is everything going your way? Are you singing a refrain while walking down the lane? Just singing. Singin' in the rain.
005 ANGER - WELL YOU KNOW WHAT. SCREW YOU TOO, RAIN.
006 WILD CARD - Anyway you want it.

>> POST with your character
>> TAG others, use RNG if you need to, or just make up your own scenario if you want!
>> HAVE FUN.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

[ She is not going to talk about the sex. It's only been a couple days, and she has better things to do, bigger things to worry about like concrete evidence they can use to nail Bogue. She has to focus on being as effective as possible — but she also feels ill-equipped to confront the oddity of the encounter. She still feels... weird in the aftermath, tangled up when she thinks about how easily they'd fallen into each other and how the anger and hatred had trailed off the deeper they tumbled into the moment. She gets stuck thinking about how he'd made her feel physically and that terrifying twinge that accompanied the way he'd said her name.

They'd gone from biting words and gnashing teeth to a subtler, burning heat, backing away from the pain and competition to praise and pleas.

... God, she still can't believe she'd actually said "please."

Fortunately, he hasn't mentioned it (yet?), and they've been completely swept up in the daily events and mingling; there hasn't been a moment for them to stop and discuss — partially by design, for Emma's own benefit. She doesn't want to talk about it, and she doesn't want to think about it, because it's quite possibly the stupidest decision she's made in her entire career.

Three days out, yet another event intended for the relaxation and enjoyment of the guests. This time, it's a smaller gathering on a beach on the other side of the island, removed from the resort and reachable by yacht. Given that they'll be enjoying the sunshine and waves, the appropriate attire is somehow simultaneously more relaxed but still pretentious in the informal wear that also needs to be showy. Emma didn't think she'd need the bikini the bureau had supplied with her, that it would sit in her luggage because she didn't want to use it, but now seems to be the proper time.

Fortunately, she can pair the chic swimsuit with a slightly opaque dress that falls elegantly over the bikini, see-through enough to make the suit apparent, but with a sunhat and designer sandals? It somehow manages to look upperclass while exposing a good deal of skin appropriate for the beach. Such is the nature of the occasion, however, and on "Alexander's" arm, "Natalie" looks stylish and graceful.

(Emma may feel like she doesn't fit in her own skin right now, but Natalie looks like she was born for it.)

The party-like atmosphere on the beach is pleasant enough on its own once they disembark from Bogue's yacht, with waitstaff weaving in and out of the gaggles of guests on the sand. Some areas have small patios setup for those uninterested in potentially getting sand in their overly-expensive shoes, but Emma is unbothered as they mingle and chat and inevitably listen to Bogue's own bragging. It grates, especially when Emma would rather be back at the resort, digging around in his suite, but he'd invited them specifically, and it would hardly ingratiate them to skip out.

Drinks, conversation, trite laughter — all the usual spread across the sunny beach.

Unfortunately, storms on the coast can be unpredictable and sudden, and the clouds that looked like they would stay out across the water move in before they can take stock of the weather. The first raindrops come lightly, and then all at once, and an otherwise chipper and easy outing turns into a quick scramble for cover. A few people head for the yacht, others for a small canopy set out more for the purpose of avoiding too much sunshine, but Emma's first instinct has her tugging Vasquez by the hand in the direction of the treeline framing the small and private beach. It's a mad dash to get out of the unexpectedly heavy rain, and while Emma's hat keeps her hair dry, the rest of her is already drenched as they find cover under broad tropical leaves.

She drops Vasquez's hand when they're properly under the trees, wrapping her arms around her shoulders as she looks out at the rain with a frown. Almost subconsciously, she positions herself closer to him than she'd otherwise stand (keeping up that facade of Alexander and Natalie). ]

You'd think they would have planned for this better.

[ Vasquez does not bring up the sex. What would be the point? It’s not like the two of them were going to any deep soul-searching because of it- it’s just sex. Emma made it very clear it didn’t mean anything, and Vasquez certainly wasn’t looking for that kind of attachment either. It was just… things… had boiled over. Frustration and anger and hatred had been building up for a week, if not much longer than that. It was bound to explode in some way sooner or later.

(But the way it had tapered off still baffles him. Heat of the moment, probably. Easy to get lost in that sort of thing and forget the reason why it started in the first place. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He doesn’t want to have to look too hard to justify the things he said to her otherwise. He’s only grateful for Emma’s limited Spanish vocabulary.)

So he doesn’t bring it up, and he tries to avoid thinking about it. He tries very, very hard, but given their close quarters and the roles they’re forced to play, it’s anything but easy. The fact that Emma seems to have plunged headlong into work helps, and he just goes right along with her. He’s determined not to fuck this up again, because time and distance (and maybe some good stress relief) has made him realize how recklessly impulsive he was being.

He’s not exactly nice to Emma, but if nothing else, he’s stopped being deliberately antagonistic- if only because he just wants to get through this with as few headaches as possible.

(At least, that’s what he tells himself.)

It doesn’t escape his notice that the events centering around Bogue have become more and more like an exclusive club. Bogue has been weeding people out, and while no one has been sent home, certainly not everyone gets invited to everything. It’s almost a little unfortunate that they’ve managed to worm their way this far into the man’s good graces, because this would be the perfect time to let themselves into the man’s private suites and help themselves to any incriminating evidence they find.

But if they were to refuse an invitation from Bogue himself, it would surely be suspicious, so here they were, Emma in her bikini and silly sheer little dress that didn’t do much to hide the fact that she was in a bikini in the first place, and him in a pair of light colored shorts and a simple white shirt, the top few buttons undone. Even days later, he’s still got marks from Emma’s nails peppering his shoulders, and a pair of darkening bruises on the backs of his thighs from her shoes, and he’s not about to show those off to anyone. At least the beachwear the bureau supplied him with keeps all that mess hidden.

The mingling and the posturing is about the same as it usually is, just with a slightly different background, until the rain swoops in and has them all diving for cover with varying degrees of dignity. Emma drags him off to the tree line, which seems like the worst possible place to hunker down, but he doesn’t really have the time to protest given how fast it all happens. If they’d gone for the yacht at least they’d be warm.

At her remark, he snorts. The one and only advantage to their location is that they’re well and truly alone. ]

Maybe Bogue thinks he can wave some documents at the weather and control that too, eh?

[ Warm would be welcome at this point, because despite the tropical climate, the wind combined with the rain and the sea air makes for some pretty chilly temperatures.

The being wet part doesn't help.

She glances up at him, rolling her eyes. ]

He does seem to think he can control everything else.

[ And that just leaves a bad taste in her mouth, like the rest of their "gracious host." She's so looking forward to ruining him, to seeing him tossed into prison where he belongs.

Her palms rub up and down her arms as she keeps speaking. ]

We should have tried to find an excuse to stay behind.

That would have been too suspicious and you know it.

[ Only now does he turn to look at her, and he frowns a little. He's cold and wet, too, but he's probably still got more fabric on him than she does, even if it is soaked and clinging to his skin. ]

You all right?

Which is why I didn't suggest it.

[ But she still wishes they could have gone with that option.

She glances down at herself when Vasquez gives her that look, and she shrugs in response. ]

I'm fine. Just not dressed for the weather.

[ Which is putting it mildly. The sheer material of the dress is bordering on translucent with how wet it's gotten, and on the one hand, at least she's wearing a swimsuit. On the other, this is not how she intended to see it used.

She rubs her hands down her arms again with a short huff. ]

The bureau didn't see fit to pack a proper sundress instead of this silly thing.

[ He frowns a little more, and his gaze flicks up towards the rest of the beach. It’s hard to tell with the rain coming down in sheets, but he can make out some of the people under the canopy- not their faces, not quite, but they can clearly see each other otherwise. If anyone were to look, they’d see a man letting his wife shiver in the wind and rain. ]

Do not yell at me for this.

[ Which is all the warning he gives before he slips his arms around her and tugs her close. ]

For wh—

[ And she doesn't even get the rest of it out before she finds herself being pulled against him. Her first realization is that he's warm, despite how wet his clothes are, and for the briefest of seconds, she almost melts into him.

And then she remembers herself, and she goes stiff in his arms — but at least she doesn't yank away from him. Good, considering that the other guests can very likely still see enough of them, and it would look odd if "Alexander's" wife refused to let him touch her. ]

This is not necessary.

[ He feels her start to ease against him, and something in his chest twinges, though whether it’s panic or something else entirely he doesn’t know. She catches herself anyway, going rigid, and he can only be thankful she doesn’t jerk away. ]

It is. [ Quietly, in spite of their isolation and the roaring downpour. ] People can see us.

And? We put on enough of a show that I doubt they'd pay any mind to us standing here now.

[ It looks better if they do touch, though. Maintaining contact and affection keeps up the pretenses of their happy marriage, and maybe it's the juxtaposition of speaking so plainly and then Vasquez touching her that seems out of place, but Emma feels thrown slightly off-kilter by it now. ]

... Besides, you're just as soaked as I am.

Emma.

[ Her name comes out in an exasperated sigh. He can practically feel her discomfort radiating off of her, but there’s not much he can do about that. They have an image to maintain, and considering Vasquez has no idea where Bogue ended up in the mad dash for cover, they need to keep up appearances at all times. ]

You’re shivering. How is that going to look if I just stand there and let you?

[ Getcha head in the game, Cullen. ]

And I'm still warmer than you.

[ He's right and she knows he's right, but that doesn't mean she has to like it.

She leans into him, despite herself, letting her forehead rest on his shoulder. ]

I'm plenty warm.

[ Even as she reaches down to wind her arms around his waist, to take advantage of how warm he actually is. ]

Do you just intend for us to stand here like this until the rain lets up?

[ He shrugs a shoulder, considering she’s leaning her head against the other one. It’s all part of the act, he knows it’s all part of the act, but there’s still something warm that blossoms in his chest unbidden when she leans against him, slipping her arms around her waist. ]

I don’t know. You’re the one who dragged us out here to the trees, cisne.

[ And there’s a word he hasn’t used with her since he told her what it meant days ago. It just slips out without him thinking, too distracted by the way they’re pressed together. ]

... It seemed practical in the moment.

[ Except the yacht would have been a much better option. Or the canopy with the other guests.

At least then it would have been easier, felt more natural, to just slip into her role again.

She turns her head on his shoulder, letting his face rest near his neck as she gets comfortable, her nose brushing lightly over his throat. ]

Again with calling me a swan, Vasquez?

[ She'd noticed the lack of it in the past few days, though, and she'd almost thought he'd decided to drop it altogether. ]

Practically the worst option, you mean.

[ A week ago, he would have thrown those words in her face with all the cutting sarcasm he could muster. Though it comes out a little exasperated, it’s miles away from mean.

He’s not sure which shocks him more, the way her nose brushes along his throat or the way it makes him feel. He got himself in way too deep when it comes to Emma Cullen, and even days later, he’s having a hell of a time reaching the surface.

Her question goes unanswered, because he clears his throat and says gruffly, ]

You keep doing that and I’m going to want to kiss you again.

[ For once, Emma is actually startled into momentary speechlessness by his response, and it throws her off-balance — but only for a moment.

She gets her bearings back, pulling away to look at him, her usual disapproving frown solidly in place. ]

That's unnecessary.

[ And it's different without a proper audience, like the other guests or Bogue. The idea of him kissing her is a completely separate thing after that stupid mess they'd gotten themselves into a few days ago. Because it was a mess, a mistake, and it's not something they can or should fall back into.

Not even a little. ]

And I wasn't doing anything. You wanted to keep up appearances, and I was doing exactly that.

[ Something about the way she looks at him draws a laugh out of him. Either he's the only one still trying to make sense of a few days ago, or she's being a good actress. ]

You were nuzzling.

That was not nuzzling.

[ It was absolutely nuzzling. ]

And where exactly do you expect me to put my face if you're intent on holding me like this?

[ She shifts her weight, letting one of her arms drop from around his waist so she can rest her hand on his chest instead. She really doesn't think this is a good idea, being close like this after the last few days, but she also doesn't want to try pulling away — though if that's because she wants to keep up appearances or because she actually wants to be pressed up against him, she can't honestly say for herself. ]

[ It’s unfair, he thinks, that she’s saying these things while pressed against him, resting her hand on his chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

If he’s really honest with himself, he’s not sure where he stands on the subject of Emma Cullen. He’s slowly starting to realize that he’s been unfair to her- he knew going in that being a criminal meant there was always a chance of being caught, but after going so long without, he started to think himself above all that. Emma did her job, and she did it damn well, and he should know better than to be so venomous towards her for that.

On the other hand, she hasn’t offered him any kindness, either. Maybe that’s his own fault, but he still finds himself bristling when he thinks of how she’d always look down her nose at him like he was some wild animal in a cage for her amusement, and she found him not at all amusing.

Things are weird now, though. It’s more than just the sex, he thinks. It was the weird moments of gentleness and vulnerability that have thrown him for a loop more than anything else. ]

Why is it you hate me so much?

[ That’s not really what they need to talk about, but it’s a place to start. ]

[ That stops Emma cold.

It's not a question she's expected from him, nor one she feels prepared to answer — because why would she have had to?

(Other than that niggling feeling in the back of her mind that prods at her in the wake of their little tryst, that want to understand what had bubbled up between them that she still can't name for herself.

It isn't anything, she wants to insist. That it's meaningless.

... But if it didn't mean anything, she wouldn't feel so oddly conflicted, would she?)

She's quiet at first, where before it would have been something quick and immediate on the tip of her tongue.

Why does she hate him? ]

You're a criminal, Vasquez. You take advantage of people. You've made a career of stealing from others and evading the law, and you've gone and made my life that much more difficult because of it.

We stand at complete odds, and it's my job to put you in the place you've earned for yourself.

[ Because that's what she's supposed to do. ]

And any time I've spent in your presence, you've been just as cutting and cruel as I would expect a man like you to be.

[ Those digs about her husband, about the ring she'd still worn, the biting flirtation — all in the wake of such a fresh wound, it did him no favors to prod and provoke as he'd been wont to do in their face-to-face interactions in the past.

Not to say that Emma was ever kind to him, but she often layered her disdain under professionalism — until those flickering moments that he drew something equally hateful out of her in response. ]

Why wouldn't I hate you?

[ As direct an answer as he could expect from her, and a low chuckle rumbles somewhere deep in his chest. It’s about how he figured- she already had her own opinions of him, and he did nothing but reinforce them. Of course, a week ago, he wouldn’t have cared. Hell, he wouldn’t have even bothered to ask. ]

I spent so long not getting caught, I convinced myself it would never happen. Like I was above even the possibility, and then here you come and suddenly I found myself behind bars. Not sure who I resented for that more, me or you, but you got to bear the brunt of it.

Maybe this would have gone a lot smoother if I just let my pride take the hit in the first place.

No one is above the law, Vasquez. If it wasn't me, it would have undoubtedly been someone else.

[ But maybe that's one of the reasons that Vasquez gets to her so badly — his attitude that he'd been so much better than the legalities that bound them both.

But this? Emma isn't sure what to make of it.

It's some odd explanation and acceptance of responsibility that she doesn't expect from him — and it almost makes her suspicious. ]

Did you ever expect we'd get along?

[ Well, it would make working together easier if they did, but it feels like they've always been at each other's throats. ]

Our positions are as opposite as they could possibly be.

Currently, they’re not, so maybe we should try.

[ He pulls away a little to glance down at her. It’s about then that the other shoe drops. ]

But first we should address the elephant in the room.

[ She doesn't break eye contact, but she also looks... almost uncomfortable. ]

What is there to discuss? I thought I made it clear it wouldn't mean a thing.

[ Except that it absolutely had, whether it had started out that way or not.

But the reality is that it really can't mean something. It puts her career in jeopardy, and it was all around a poor decision, given that they have to work together and who he is. ]

So you said. So I said, but we both know there’s too much history here for it to mean nothing.

[ This wasn’t some one-night stand or random hook-up, and it’s certainly not like they could just not see each other again in the aftermath. They were stuck here for a few more days at least, playing the part of a loving couple. ]

We just need to figure out what it does mean.

vasquez | the magnificent seven | ota

i just want to make things awkward for them idefk. so 004 - 001 - 006????

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