Haunted Roads

When: Night
Where: Her apartment
Who: Silva and Daren

The job offer hadn’t been expected. Silva knew her diligence to the job was noticed but she never expected it to matter much. Most of the time she was reprimanded for constantly being on the clock and never able to really let any of it go. But that sort of attitude got the job done. It kept the squad alive when all possible scenarios were planned for and mapped out. She took her time, constantly seeking out information to ensure that the ensuing raid would go as smoothly as possible. As smoothly as any damned raid could at least. Work was life for her, it had been for a good number of years now and Silva didn’t see that changing any time soon. It was what kept her going; it pushed her to do better. Half the time it kept her fucking sane.

But no matter all of that, the offer had still surprised her. Called into her superior’s office he went over all her recent raids, all the work, Silva sat silently, giving only nods of her head in confirmation. She respected the older man even if she thought that he, at times, took a bit too much time to get the job done. She wasn’t sure what he was getting at but she didn’t try to rush him along. She sat patient, arms folded and back straight appearing to listen intently.

She was silent even when he finally got to the point. There was an opening in California, a higher rank and far more responsibilities. He thought she could handle it…Silva knew she could but she knew there were a damn lot of risks for her in getting higher position anywhere at all. Daren, the asshole, was the sort that would love to exploit it. The more prestige she earned, the less she wanted him anywhere fucking involved in it. The more she had to lose.

Every officer that knew believed it was a job offer she could not turn down. They all knew she didn’t have any family or anything holding her here. She had just the job and the job would be a hell of a lot better for her down in California. It appeared she should just be eagerly saying yes with no hesitation. But there was hesitation for her. There were reasons to shake her head, say thank you for the offer, and turn it down.

Reasons to stay where she was, never taking that risk of gaining more place or rising up in the ranks. Knowing Daren would just make it hell on her. Higher the job...the more people watching. The more that would notice if things weren't right.

Fuck all the reasons though. Fuck Daren and his desire to hold crap over her head for the rest of her life. He could play his bullshit games even with distance. And the rest? There wasn't really much rest. There were a few she knew but didn’t really give a shit about. There was the kid and her mom but what the fuck was Silva supposed to do about it? It wasn’t her mess to clean up. Woman should have been more careful about what dick she let play games with her. Lesson learned. Bitchy sure, but Silva had no reason to care. The kid of hers could stand on her own two feet, so Silva didn’t worry about her none.

The only one she really cared about was Mike and he was better off with her no where near him. He and his whole damned family were. Silva knew he kept trying but it wasn’t ever going to be like it used to be. The sooner he accepted that the better off he’d be.

The better off they'd all be.

“So?” her superior had urged after a few minutes without answer, he seemed agitated slightly that she hadn’t been so quick to answer. Probably thinking he’d made the wrong pick. “I’m honored and couldn’t think to say no, Sir.” Silva finally responded. That made the older man grin ear to ear. Why he was so happy she had no idea, maybe just happy to be getting rid of her. She wasn’t always a joy to work with. “Great, your transfer papers will be completed by the end of the week. It’s been great working with you Silva.” A shake of the hands to seal the deal.

Afterwards Silva didn’t go out to celebrate, she accepted the congrats from a few in the office and then headed home. A drink for her own celebration. And a pill. Then she started packing. She had a lot to do and not much time to do it.

Who: Elisabetta & Silva
Where: The enclosed gardens of the Tower.
When: Thursday Evening.
What: Recently moved in, Elisa steals a few moments alone, while the baby sitter is on the clock, to enjoy her new home.


One would never think, that clothing would play such a pivotal role, in a persons life. As a child, who could barely afford new shoes, clothing had been a luxury, and never had it been designer threads, resting upon the little Italian girls back. It was, whom ever she happened to be living with at the time, could afford to by her. Not that she ever knew to complain, that was how it always had been. She never knew any better, and there fore, would not expect better.

When you are given very little, from the start, to learn that very little will come to you. These children, so spoiled, and ungrateful. They valued nothing, but received it all. They never had reason to want for anything, but still they complained. If something wasn't the right color, or the right name brand, they were unhappy. Never, could they see how truly blessed they were. It saddened her.

Lucia would never be one of those children, Elisa was determined to never allow it to happen. No, she would never have to worry about, whether she would have clothing for school. Between her mothers money, earned from years as a model, and the rather generous corporate salary, that her father earned, they would never be room to worry.

Clothing, it had been the vein of Elisa life, for some time now. Long before becoming a woman, she walked runways, the newest fashions clinging to her tall frame. How popular she had been at home. Success was not lost in the states either. Though, most work here, and been editorial.

That life, though she had enjoyed it, was in the past now. It was time, as her father had put it, to use her special gifts, to find work. Ispirazione, to inspire those with a creative touch. Talent was not always needed, but it certainly helped. She was a Muse, not a miracle worker, after all. Thus far, her business had began to bloom. Several steady clients under her belt, one being a writer... his typing was quickly becoming irritating, but really. It was easy work, she did nothing, but place herself in his presence. That was all it took.

The black heeled boots clicked across the ground, as she walked, her arms folded across the front of her body, hugging in the warmth, while she admired the lush green. The flowers, still shy due to the cool winter. Much like New York, she had discovered. Given the cool, she could not bring herself, to dress in such a way, that was not fashionable. The need to do so, was now deeply engrained. At a time, it wasn't good enough, to look perfect on the runway, or in photo. One had to look like a model, at all times. That, she did not miss.

When: Late Night
Where: Police Station
Who: Silva – Narrative unless someone would/could be around there, then open

“Time to head on home Silva” it was a statement that seemed to be played like a broken record all night. Different voices, different tones, but always the same words. Silva regarded the other like she had all else tonight, a brief glance and then straight back to work. Often they’d sigh; some even chuckled or shook their heads. Most knew she wasn’t going to listen. There wasn’t anything at home waiting for her, so what was the rush to get back? A drink and a bed were her only prizes to look forward to and they weren’t in such high demand tonight that she was willing to walk away from her work. The work wouldn’t go anywhere over night, wouldn’t magically disappear never to be finished again. But that didn’t matter; Silva had that inability to walk away until it was all seen to.

Files were scattered around the desk, various means of information on the newest lead in drugs. New faces were always looking to pop up and take the place of whoever had just fallen. There was no real end to it and in a way, that’s why Silva stayed in this field. She needed the work that kept her busy, kept her constantly swamped. Not that any crime field had breaks really. Someone was always killing, raping, robbing….nature of the beast. In her field there weren’t many sob stories though. The guys involved knew what the fuck they were doing.

“Getting late…” another muttered as they walked by, not as though they had much room to talk considering they, too, were still here at their desks working. “Thanks for the update.” Silva returned, grabbing up her half filled mug and taking a swig. Lips twisted as the cold bitter coffee touched her tongue. It seemed like only a few minutes ago she got up to get the cup but it had been hours now at least, if not even longer then that. She was too busy pouring over the details, picking apart the facts, to care about keeping tabs on her coffee.

A paragraph finished, she shifted to get up and get that coffee but the cop dubbed “puppy” was there already grabbing it up and smiling oh so brightly. He hadn’t been here long enough to become jaded or get that darkness about the corners of his eyes. No he was still cheerful, eager, so damn eager to do “good” in the world. Was a surprise he didn’t run around clapping and cheering go team go! He was exceptionally cheerful around Silva, she wondered more then once if he thought that “cheery’ would rub off on her or something. If he did he was aiming for a loss. All it did was ride Silva’s last nerve sometimes.

At least she offered up a “Thanks” when he rushed off to get her a fresh cup of the less then best coffee the place had going for it. Silva didn’t care right about now though. Coffee was coffee when it was this late. How late wasn’t a question she was looking for answer to. Her desktop didn’t even have a clock and her cellphones were buried away in the pocket of her jacket to be forgotten.

Two seconds later the puppy was back, carefully setting the coffee mug to the edge of her desk away from the papers. Smart kid but it wasn’t really going to earn him any brownie points. Especially not when he decided to open up his mouth. “So…sure you’re hungry by now. How about we grab some food?” it was a statement that probably needed to have a bunch of exclamation points at the end. Why he kept thinking she had some interest in him she had no idea. No hints, no flirting, no sign at all that she even really saw him. Yet he always came barking up this wrong tree.

Silva nudged the bag down by her garbage, take out food. “About four hours too late. Sure Mary wouldn’t mind.” Divert that attention to another female in the room. Too bad for her that it never seemed to work. He just smiled brightly and gave the often spoken “maybe later then!” to which Silva would just nod and go right back to work.

Tonight wasn’t any different.

Who: Daren and little Nicky
When: Late Night, End of her shift
What: Daren has some information
Rating: Of course she'll want to show her appreciation

So many women, so little time. Oh wait... Daren had all the time in the world. Problem was, all these human women just kept getting older and older in the blink of an eye. Little Nicky was already in her thirties. So was Maggie. Hell, Maggie was pushing forty. Not like he could so easily replace her without raising questions. Not that he really wanted to replace her. She looked fabulous in Versace and even better on his arm. Every man envied him and every woman murmured about how perfect they were together. The philanthropist with money to burn so selflessly dating a commoner, a single mother, a nurse, a healer and nurturer.

And now that pissant little vampire thought he could waltz into town and take all that away from Daren? Not without a fight. Though, likely not too much of a fight. That would look too good for Daren after all. With any luck Bas wouldn't be around much longer for any of it to be an issue.

Not that Daren really expected Nicky to believe him. She was so adamant about these things. Things like evidence and, playing by the rules. Did it matter which rules he played by? Most of the time the leads he gave her were real and true… regardless of where the information had come from. So if he gave her a false lead every once in a while, should that be held against him? How was he supposed to know when the information some times turned out to be bogus?

He’d come by foot, underground most of the way then, keeping to the shadows as soon as he left the concealment of the tunnels. Not Nicky’s apartment no, but a place just as familiar to them both. An abandoned warehouse in which they were used to holding so many of their clandestine meetings. “Someday you’ll agree to a meeting right out in public. Really though, people are beginning to talk. Might want to take our affair public, if only to set straight your reputation as a dyke.”

The words were spoken against her ear. As usual, Daren had snuck up all quiet like. No, he didn’t mind the sharp elbow in his gut, she heel in his shin, or even the gun in his face. He really dug it when she played dirty.

When: Before Dawn
Where: Outskirts of Seattle
Who: Silva and DEA - Narrative

"You ready?" the mans voice was too excited, a rookie on his first raid, Silva was nearly certain the guy was going to fuck up and make this more difficult then it needed to be. The new ones always got ahead of themselves; they rushed in guns blazing thinking it all a damned game still. Didn't matter how long they'd been street cops, they seemed to forget it all once they got into this. Silva knew first hand it wasn't a game, she had the fucking scars to prove it. The ones they went after weren't looking for jail time again. They'd kill every cop there if they could to get away. The only way to survive was to never give them that chance. Most cops didn’t like anyone saying shoot first and ask questions later…didn’t seem very kind, didn’t make it seem like they were giving them chance. Why give them chance? Why give them shit?

Silva didn’t care how “bad” it sounded. When it came down to it she pulled the trigger and she had no regrets. She was alive, they were dead, it worked for her.

“Hey, Silva, you ready!” the kid had a crush, he was warned a hundred times over by all the others to keep the hell away from her. But apparently that cold bitch thing just turned him odd. Gave him that urge to crack her, make her open up. He didn’t get it. Boy didn’t have a clue. Wasn’t her type and wasn’t ever going to happen. She didn’t even know the rookies name. Likely he wasn’t really that much younger then her but he acted like it, an excited little fucking puppy that looked like he was about ready to pee his pants the second you give him any attention at all.

She looked at him, and his eyes little up. How sad.

A look, nothing more, no answer, no reply. A look and then she looked forward again, watching the road as the car continued on. She could feel him staring, boring holes into the back of her head. She could even imagine him biting his lip, debating how to get her to look back again. To talk. Silva wasn’t much for small talk. It was just filler to the silence and she didn’t mind silence. Silence gave her time to prepare, to get ready. Back at the station they’d gone over the plan over and over again. Repeated till they could recite it like a song. She knew how it was supposed to go down, but rarely did things go as planned. She’d seen that enough in her life. Best plans often ended up the most fucked. Good intentions making that path right on into hell.

“Let it go man…” the voice was nothing more then a whisper, did they think she was deaf? The rookie glared at the other, stupid kid just wasn’t listening. He’d get the hint eventually, they all did. Hundreds of turned down dates later, too many attempts at conversations down the line. He wasn’t the first to try to make a move. He wouldn’t be the last. Silva didn’t get it, not in the least. She wasn’t exactly looking to either. If they wanted to keep wasting their time she’d let them.

( Almost there, everyone remember the plan? )

When: Night
Where: Bar
Who: Silva and anyone

( Have you reconsidered? )

She knew why he’d called tonight; she knew why he’d be calling next week too and the week after that. It was getting nearer and nearer to the anniversary of her parents death. He always worried about her more when that time came around. Nic you got a death wish and it gets worse that month.. Didn’t matter how many times she told him to not call her Nic anymore, he never seemed to listen. Old fool.

Did she have a death wish? More then a few partners had stated such but Silva didn’t happen to agree with the statement. It wasn’t a death wish; it was an inability to just sit around twiddling her fucking thumbs waiting for back up or for lawyers or anyone else to get their shit together.

Silva was looking for a change though, the DEA just wasn’t enough. But the last thing she was going to do was take a job where she’d have another person breathing down her neck. Mike meant well but if he knew the shit Silva was still tied into he’d probably have a damned heart attack. She wasn’t looking to put him in that place. He had a family to take care of, a wife, he didn’t need to be looking out for her. She was the last person people should be sticking their necks out for, was likely to get the damned thing lobbed right off.

With a sigh of her own the cell phone was discarded onto the table and Silva pushed herself up to her feet with a subtle groan. Shoulder was acting up again, had been the last few days. There was barely any hesitation as she walked over to her bookcase, fishing out the bottle of pills from a box and popping one in her mouth. Just another reason to keep herself out of Mikes sights.

Her plan for the night was a simple one. It was the same one as many nights before. Change out of her gear, grab her keys, snatch up her work cell, and head down to a bar. Didn’t matter which bar, the location changed often. Any bar would do, any bar at all. Her regular cell was left on the table; she wasn’t going to have another conversation with Mike. If he called twice in one day it was to try to have some heart to heart. Some spill all emotions sort of dramatic intervention that she wasn’t even considering. She wasn’t his responsibility anymore; he needed to get that through his thick skull.

Dressed down for Silva tonight was jeans, a white tank, boots and her old leather jacket. Nothing fancy, nothing that made her stand out in a crowd. She wasn’t looking to stand out, she was cool with blending right on in. Kept her ignored for the night. Free to just sit and enjoy her typical two or three drinks before passing out for the night.

It was late; the halls were empty as she made her way out. She voted to just walk to a near by bar. Small, a bit run down, not too crowded…it worked for Silva. She took her place at a back booth, asking for a double whiskey on the rocks. The older man nodded and went off to fetch her drink.