bakerstreet | Fake Dating

Fake Dating

f ake dating

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ a meme

→ COMMENT WITH YOUR CHARACTER'S NAME, FANDOM, AND PREFERENCE.
→ PICK A CHARACTER YOU WANT TO TAG AND HIT UP RNG (01-10), OR CHOOSE A SCENE OF YOUR OWN.
→ PLAY NICE; NO WANK, FLAMES, OR GENERAL HUMBUGGERY.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈ the scenarios

① WORK RELATED: you're probably undercover or some sort of spy, gathering intel or trying to get into some exclusive place. may or may not have feelings for the other person
② JEALOUS EX: they are always around you, and whether or not you're over them, you want that trophy partner to show off.
③ BET: someone made you a bet to be with this person or that you couldn't last with this person or some other thing, but whoopsy, feelings got involved.
④ RUNAWAYS: young adults on the run, safer in pairs
⑤ RUMORS: everyone is already saying you did something sexual with them or you're already assumed to be together. why not keep the rumor going?
⑥ CONTINGENCY PLAN: it was never supposed to be like this, but you made a pact or an agreement (maybe even paid this person to be your partner or was paid to be with this person), and now you're with them.
⑦ WEDDING/ PARTY/ BIG EVENT: you told your mother you were bringing someone just to get her off your back. so you brought someone and everyone thinks you're together.
⑧ PUBLIC RELATIONS: one or both of you is famous. someone is getting some publicity out of this arrangement, but there's definitely supposed to be a life expectancy to this relationship.
⑨ CITIZENSHIP: a much harder thing to pull off considering it's actual fraud, but it does bring about a certain kind of quick intimacy.
⑩ WILD CARD: ROLL MORE THAN ONCE AND COMBINE SCENARIOS, CHOOSE YOUR FAVOURITE, OR MAKE UP YOUR OWN!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Any of: 1, 3, 4, 5, 7; no smut, prefs in journal]

Edited 2023-05-15 22:39 (UTC)

[ooc: How's this: Tommy 'put out the word' he needed someone that could pose as the trophy wife, then find out secrets when the club owners take Tommy aside to rough him up? In either: Tommy brought into modern setting or Yelena brought back to the 1920s, if you're game? The club is some London speakeasy/modern equivalent. The owners are *** mafia (your choice) and the secret thing they're doing is... IDK we could leave that to be discovered in thread??]

[Im sssoo here for this! Probably bringing him modern, if that’s all right with you? ]

Tommy had been hearing things about the Nightlight. Nothing definite, just rumours. A lot of movement after hours. Chatter betwen the Italians and the Russians. Cars driving in and out of warehouses late at night. Movement at the docks. Shipments that disappeared or turned up out of schedule. It wasn't good for business. Worse than that, there was a silence around the crew that worked out of the Nightlight. People who asked questions disappeared. Nothing came back, not even body parts. There was a darkness around the club, shadows that hid sharp edges. Criminals were superstitious folk and whoever was running the Nightlight, they were fuelling everyone's nightmares.

Alfie Solomons had reached out. He couldn't get in, none of his people could, but someone from outside might. Someone known, but not connected. Someone like Tommy Shelby. Maybe he could find out what needed to be found. And Alfie had a friend. Someone who could do the running around while Tommy drew fire.

Tommy preferred to work alone, but Alfie, well, the man was immovable once he'd made up his mind.

So here Tommy was, doing a favour for a friend. And perhaps, something for himself as well. After all, Tommy never did anything for free and secrets were good currency.

The address he'd been given was for a hotel, nothing too fancy, tucked away on a quiet square. Tommy pulled up outside, killed the engine and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. He hoped she wouldn't make him wait.

This, like so many situations Yelena finds herself in, is the sort thing that has a distinct someone knows a guy who knows a guy who can do the dirty work flavor. Not a new thing to her, she's been a hired hand for her entire life.

The Nightlight was not on Yelena's radar, not initially, but when Valentina came to her with something interesting, she took the job. It sounded simple enough, and playing the role of a trophy wife? Classic.

She's all set to meet her phony husband a little bit before they set to work so they can discuss a few of the details. Her dress is flashy in a way to make her noticeable, but not to a distracting degree, and it certainly turned the heads of the front desk staff at the hotel on her way out.

She walks toward the parked car and taps the passenger's side window with three fingers before inviting herself into the car in one fluid motion. "I take it you are my new husband?" she asks, Russian accent thick as ever. Something that... might be more of a favor than a hindrance in this case, fingers crossed.

Tommy doesn't reply immediately. Takes a moment to look past the glitter of her dress to the rest of her.He doesn't recognise her, but that's not surprising. This isn't his usual gig, there's no reason their paths would have crossed before. She's... smaller than he was expecting, and yet at the same time, takes up more room. Perhaps it's that, perhaps it's the Russian, or perhaps it's the pre-emptory way she entered the car, but he's reminded of Tatiana. The memory is not a pleasant one. His eyes narrow, and his voice, when he speaks is ever so slightly clipped.

He spreads his fingers to show his ring. "You have your own?"

He brought a spare, but the question is mostly a test. He's not entirely happy about working with an unknown partner, and the accent has him even more on edge.

Still, a deal is a deal. He starts the car, pulls out and joins the traffic. They've got to cross town, and while the evening traffic is reasonably thin, the journey should give them enough time to iron out any details.

She smiles, a tight, plastic kind of thing as she lifts her hand to show him the diamond on her finger– modest, nothing too gaudy. "Unless you think yours is better," she shrugs, it's all pretend anyway, so it doesn't matter much to her what she's wearing.

"What exactly do you need me to do when we get there?" she smooths her hands over the skirt of her dress and looks over at him. "I need to know how clueless rich girl you need me to be."

[Default to post-show, other prefs in journal.]

[1, 5, 7, 8; other preferences in journal]

In all the years since she escaped the widow program, Zoey has laid the foundation for a relatively thorough information network. It pays to have ears in places that she isn’t. Or can’t be. Her gift provides her with a lot, but she prefers to be prepared. That information network is how the rumours first reach her. Rumours that someone has gotten their hands on alien tech with the intention of auctioning it off to the highest bidder on the black market.

With a little bit of digging… it turns out that the rumours are correct. And there’s an auction planned for the end of next month. Which gives her time to lay the groundwork for their aliases. Get them an in, and get them an invitation. There’s no one else she trusts to have her back in situations like this than Bucky. Their cover is that of a long-standing couple with an avid interest in new technologies. For what may or may not be nefarious purposes. A woman never tells, after all.

Given that this is going to be an event for black market high rollers, they’re going to have to look the part. She makes sure to get him a tux that’s custom made to fit him comfortably, and made to fight in, although it doesn’t look it, and for herself, or Amelia St. Germain as she is going to be known as, she chooses something in blue, a dress that hugs her curves and looks fucking stunning on her, with a slit almost up to the hip for ease of movement (and fighting, if necessary) and heels to match, her red curls done up in an appropriately fancy style. With a touch of appropriate makeup she’s ready, and makes her way downstairs to meet Bucky before they head to the auction.

Between Zoey's contacts and Bucky's own, it's easy to get their hands on just about all the information they need to make this cover work. She'll be doing a lot of the point running on this one, if only because he's still concerned about his presence making this turn into something of a frenzy- people know his face, it's literally in history books and museums.

He feels... out of place in the suit, but he'll adjust once they get into the mission itself. He couldn't have predicted how all out Zoey was going to go for this. His breath catches slightly as she descends the stairs.

"Wow," he says with a low whistle.

Zoey is nothing if not thorough. And occasionally somewhat extra. Part of the reason why she’s chosen the dress she has, chosen the hair colour she has, is to do her best to take and keep attention off of Bucky. If they’re looking at her, they’re not paying nearly as much attention to him. She might not be able to keep all attention off him, but she can certainly attract some.

His reaction catches her off-guard. She doesn’t know why, she chose the dress to be as attention-getting as possible on purpose. Maybe it’s different because it’s Bucky. That’s what makes it different. That’s why her heart flutters in her chest, why she blushes just a little. And she hides it all behind a playful little grin and an appreciative gaze back, because he’s looking striking as all hell in his suit. And a flourishing little curtsey, because why not.

Reaching the bottom of the stairs, she makes her way over to him. With the heels she’s a little taller than usual, but he still has half a foot on her. “One final touch,” she says, holding out a pair of cufflinks for him, the exact shade of blue as her dress. (Again, she’s thorough, and they’re supposed to be a couple. So. They’re exactly the sort of thing Amelia St. Germain would give to her lover.)

He doesn’t miss the returned appreciation, but it barely registers because he’s following the slit in her dress all the way up to her hip and has to force himself to tear his eyes away.

“If you don’t get attention in there tonight, everybody in the place is dead,” he murmurs softly, a slight smirk on his face as she fixes the cuff links.

It’s hard to miss how his eyes follow the slit of her dress up and that’s… no. He’s never seen her dressed like this. He hasn’t seen her aggressively dressed to draw attention. To stun. That’s all. She shouldn’t want for more. She shouldn’t hope, either. But still. That she is able to draw his gaze, to stun him, even simply as part of an undercover mission, even for a MOMENT, means something. Somewhere, deep in the hidden parts of her heart. Even if she’s trying very hard to ignore it. She would have thought that the widow program had forced all foolishness from her.

Apparently she was mistaken. But fortunately she is the only one with any awareness of her foolishness.

His comment is… gratifying. She might bury that particular reaction down with the rest of her foolishness, but it is all, the same. Zoey smirks up at him in silent response, ice blue eyes sparkling in amusement as she finishes fitting the cuff links in place and smoothing the cuffs into place. There. “Shall we?”

He smiles as she fits the links in place, smoothing the material around them. He hums a soft noise of agreement, nodding at the question.

They enter the auction hall, Zoey tucked against his side, Bucky’s left hand curled at her hip almost… protectively. She can handle herself, he knows that, but as much intel as her sources gave them… there are still plenty of unknowns in this room. Enough that it has him just a little on edge.

He turns to press a kiss to her temple, words a soft murmur only meant for her, “How much schmoozing do you think we’ll have to do tonight?”

Bucky’s hand is warm at her hip, protective and reassuring. They’re in this together, whatever… trouble they might find in the auction hall. (She shouldn’t like the feeling of his hand there at her hip as much as she does, but that’s something she files away in the depths of her heart and resolutely ignores. It doesn’t matter. They have a job to do and it doesn’t mean anything.)

She ignores how her heart flutters at the kiss he presses to her temple, too. She’s a fool. They’re just playing parts. Nothing more. Nothing less. “More than either of us would like, probably,” she retorts with a smirk, tipping her head up to kiss his cheek playfully. Just playing the part. That’s all. Or so she’s trying to tell herself.

He chuckles softly at that, leaning into that kiss on his cheek. It is playing a part, but there is something else underneath it all– he feels it too, but for now, he is still keeping all of his attention focused on the room at large. There's a job at hand, it's what's important at the moment.

"Who's our first quarry?"

“That would be Jacob Lorens and his wife Catherine,” Zoey murmurs softly, her eyes flicking across the room to where an absolute bear of a man (wheat-coloured hair, bearded) stands, his arm draped around the waist of a statuesque brunette, her hair falling loose in waves, wearing magenta. “They have their fingers in all sorts of pies.” A pause, then she adds. “And rumours have it that they’re swingers.”

His eyebrows both arch upward at the last little tidbit of information. He must have missed that in the rundown they'd gotten on this job.

“You think thst’s our in? A little afterparty with the couple Lorenz?” the idea is bizarre but missions usually are, especially undercover ones.

That's because it hadn't been there. Zoey had gone digging, after. Researching their people of interest. Looking for the tidbits that aren't usually a part of most rundowns. The little things that might come in handy in a pinch.

"I think it's a possibility. One I'd rather not USE, but it's good to have. Just in case." They might not need it. But it's one way to get in with them. She'd rather not put Bucky in that position if they don't have to. If it was just her, though...

Well, she's far more willing to put herself in danger than ~~those she cares about~~ her partners.

Zoey was better at that part of things than he was; Bucky was far more used to the more... actionable and violent parts of the jobs they did. It worked for them, though, a good balance- and Zoey could always hold her own just fine in a fight when she needed to.

"I guess it's time to mingle...?" he says, glancing at her. He's still so...struck by how amazing she looks in the outfit she'd chosen for this particular mission, but he tries not to let his gaze linger too much.

They make a good team. They balance each other out. And she trusts him, which is a pretty large thing for her. She’s always been prickly, and her time in the Red Room had only made that worse. But there’s no one else she’d rather have at her back than Bucky.

“Probably can’t put it off much longer,” she quips with a soft laugh. And then Amelia St. Germain brushes a few loose red curls back off her face and leads her lover slowly off into the crowd.