InsaneJournal

WHO: Pam Swynford de Beaufort and Kirsty Cotton
WHAT: Kirsty helps Pam out.
WHEN: 1/28 or so
WHERE: A luxury hotel in Irvine
RATING: PG13
STATUS: Complete



Given that there had been a sudden lack of crazy bullshit going on lately, Pam had been able to get back to work and actually make a little money. Until this stupid-ass New Yorker had picked her up, and it had all gone downhill from there.

She’d tried to be nice, but he’d demanded things a certain way from the beginning. Told her she couldn’t wear any leather (what the fuck else was she supposed to wear, wood?) as he was allergic. Told her to not use any tools. And now he’d called the goddamn cops - screaming the whole time about ‘this hooker’ stealing the cash from his wallet. Never mind that Pam wasn’t exactly wearing anything with pockets. And she hadn’t had time to hide the cash anywhere.

She heard a knock at the door of the hotel suite, and told her client to go get it, still steaming mad. If she wound up in a cell over this shit, she’d have to hunt him down and chew on his jugular.

Kirsty Cotton didn’t still work the beat, but she’d been investigating a murder on the floor below. It made no sense for her not to hop up, take a complaint about a domestic, and then go back downstairs. The last thing she’d been expecting was to see a familiar blonde. “Detective Cotton. What seems to be the problem here, sir?”

Pam hadn’t seen Kirsty Cotton since a vice bust gone wrong about five years ago, but when she heard the familiar voice, she came banging out of the room. “Shit, Detective, I thought you’d be doing something besides vice now. This fucker,” she said, jerking her thumb at the client, “says I stole his wallet. Search everywhere right fucking now, if you please.”

The cop grinned when she saw Pam. “Oh, I’m not on vice, I’m homicide now. Some guy got popped downstairs, figured I’d take this. It got called in as a domestic, he said you’re his lady friend.” Kirsty folded her arms, turning to the man. “Sir, you do realize that once you’ve employed a dominatrix, a legal profession, might I add, it’s not becoming to call the cops to get a refund, right?”

“Seriously?” Pam turned around toward her client, laughing now. “I won’t press charges for slander if you get the fuck out right now.”

The man tried to brazen it out, arguing that he’d paid and he was entitled to his service, but Pam shook her head. “You tried to screw me. In more ways than one.”

Kirsty sighed, folding her arms. “Sir, I suggest you get dressed and leave before I haul you in for filing a false report. Pam, would you call room service? I could use a coffee or three, this guy’s giving me a goddamn headache.”

“Can do, Detective.” Pam couldn’t help but smirk as she went to the phone, hearing her erstwhile client continue to complain at Kirsty. Honestly, these people. Especially in California, sex workers had rights. She’d done her homework on that shit.

After a few minutes, the man started to realize he’d get nothing out of this cop. He sighed and got dressed, pulling his wallet out of his jacket and leaving a little extra money for Pam so that hopefully she wouldn’t press charges against him for harassment. And Kirsty didn’t even have to bust out the pins. It was a good day.

Since there was nothing left for her to do downstairs until the crime scene techs could report back on whose fluids were whose, Kirsty sat on the bed and massaged her temples.

As soon as she heard the door close behind the client, Pam came back out of the other room. “Coffee and brandy on the way, Detective. You look like shit. Homicide been rough?” Kirsty had always been the kind of up and comer, the type that probably kissed just the right amount of ass. But she’d sided with Pam once or twice when she’d needed her, and for that, Pam liked the woman.

“Nah, I actually like Homicide. That guy just got on my last damn nerve.” That, and he was Hellbound, which meant she’d probably see him again, the little shit. “Thanks for the brandy, though.” Not like she could get drunk anymore.

“No worries.” She’d just ordered one for Kirsty, given her inability to eat or drink anything. Well. She could technically, but she didn’t feel like barfing today. “What’ve you been doing between rousting my clients and homicide work?” Call her curious.

“Oh, just dreaming, you know, same old same old. Got married.” Kirsty smiled and held up her left hand. Her ring was modest, but she loved it all the same.

“Holy shit.” Pam looked at the ring. “Not too bad.” Well. She’d have wanted something bigger - no point in getting hitched if you couldn’t flaunt it - but Kirsty was a different type, and wearing a big ass ring was just asking to get mugged on a cop’s beat. “I’m guessing he treats you good. Not like you’d put up with that shit if he didn’t.”

“Yeah, he’s good to me. He sucks at getting along with my partner, but hell. I try to keep the peace. That’s really all I could complain about when it comes to Giles.” Even his being a vampire didn’t bug her.

“All you can do, I guess. Why’s he hate your partner, he think you’re going to cheat?” Pam shrugged. “Asshole thing to think, if he does.” It was probably why Pam would never get married - she liked fucking people too much, and she would have felt like shit cheating on someone.

“Probably. Giles is all strength and swagger. My partner Will is ... all brains. So Giles might feel threatened. Dunno.” Kirsty didn’t get it, and doubted she ever would. Especially since she’d never cheat.

Pam rolled her eyes. “Thank God I’m a blunt dyke. I have a girlfriend, but like, if we get pissed off at each other, we go ‘hey, Pam,’ or ‘hey, Maia, I’m pissed off at you.’”

Kirsty snorted. “You’ve always been on the blunt side. When did you get the girlfriend?” Kirsty leaned back on the bed, glad to have the time to catch up with a friend.

“Couple months ago. She’s ... great.” It sounded stupid, but better than being all sappy. “She’s a librarian, and we both dream, so.” She remembered reading someplace that Kirsty dreamed, so it wasn’t like the woman would think she’d gone round the bend.

Kirsty smiled. “Yeah. The dreams are ... it’s probably better if we’re with dreamers, if only so that way we’re not alarmed when people get powers. Giles keeps thinking that I’ll be scared by his being a vampire or something.”

Pam laughed; she sat down in the chair opposite the bed and simply opened her mouth a little. Her fangs were able to be held back, but she let them out, just enough for Kirsty to see. “Maia can shoot lightning and ice and stuff out of her fingers.”

“Oh, man, Giles would love to be so normal looking when he’s a vamp. He gets like, three or four feet taller than he usually is, goes all grey and looks... kinda like a bat, really.” Kirsty shrugged her shoulders and leaned back. “And fuck, I’m a priestess of Hell now, so that works.”

Pam raised an eyebrow. “That’s fucked up. No, I dream about this town where humans and vampires live side by side in harmony and all that - except there’s not much harmony. All the vamps look pretty average, though; maybe we hiss and spit a little, but we don’t have that happen. But what do you mean, a priestess of Hell? Hell doesn’t have clergy, do they?” All those lying fuckers went straight up, which was why Pam didn’t believe in heaven or hell to begin with.

“Of course they do. Everyone needs something to believe in,” Kirsty chuckled. “Besides, Hell’s lousy with clergy. You can’t trip without seeing a pope or something.” She tucked her legs under her body. “Fuck, I don’t even look like this anymore. This is magic right now, so I don’t freak everyone out. But I can look like anyone.”

“Really.” It said something to Pam that she wasn’t freaked out by that idea. Just more Orange County shit. “That’s a weird-ass power.”

“Well, I don’t look very pretty as the priestess of Hell.” Kirsty chuckled. “There’s a sort of ... they’re into body modification and order in the Church of Our Lady of the Gash.”

“Our Lady of the Gash?” Pam echoed. She was kind of creeped out by that. “I ... sorry, I mean. Should I say I’m sorry? That’s gotta be one hell of a job.” Never mind that Hell might actually exist. Still, she tried to joke. “I must be on your list then, though. Vampires are supposed to be devil spawn, after all.”

“Nah. Alternate creatures are judged the same way as anyone. And I can tell. Hell barometer.” Kirsty chuckled sadly. “You’re firmly in the middle, the way most people are until they get older.”

“Are they really?” Pam was curious. “I’ve heard all the myths about vampires being hellspawn even before I moved here. Guess they’re just that.” She wasn’t gonna talk about it, but it actually did make her feel better. Her ma was religious, but she never had been. For a lot of reasons.

“Yeah, that’s not how God rolls. You’re not going to be going up or down because of one thing. It’s more of a scale, really. I’m not saying if you donate to charity you can skullfuck a baby or something, but if you cheat on your taxes once and live an okay life, you’re in the clear.” Kirsty chuckled, looking down at her hands. “Me, in my dreams, I signed a deal with the old priest of Hell. That’s why I went down.”

Pam’s eyebrows shot up. “Was somebody you love dying or something?” Why in the fuck would anybody make a deal with the priest of Hell?

“Already dead. That same priest, unbeknownst to me, killed every single one of my friends, then my fiancé.” Kirsty chuckled. “He said since I was going down anyway, may as well rule, right?”

“You were going down anyway? Or he lied to you?” That was fucking uncomfortable. “Detective Cotton, this is getting a little outta my league.” She still had shit to live for. Hell, she had Maia to live for.

“I’m sure he lied to me. But don’t worry. My dream world’s way more fucked than this one. You’re not going anywhere anytime soon.” Kirsty smiled, glad that Pam was freaking out. That was normal, healthy even.

“I think I’ll stick with the only weird shit in my life being the fangs and the fact that my girlfriend can make her body temperature drop before she goes down on me.” Pam cracked.

That made Kirsty laugh. “That sounds way more practical than ice in the mouth, because eventually that shit makes your jaw go numb.” Kirsty was speaking from experience, and she got up to answer the door. Yay brandy and coffee!

“Yup.” Pam laughed. “First time she did it was really confusing.” She waited for the detective to go get her stuff before continuing. “She’s a mage, and she comes from this weird place where mages are the scariest thing ever, so they lock ‘em in towers where they have nothing to do but - hey! - practice more magic.”

Kirsty mixed the brandy into her coffee, cocking her head to the side. “And grow resentful,” she murmured. “Locking up powerful people with other powerful people is stupid.”

“Makes sense to me.” Pam shrugged. “They didn’t asked to be born magic or whatever. So you lock ‘em up and they just stew.” She was just lucky Maia wasn’t so vengeful. She was the vengeful one.

“Like I said, though, don’t worry so much about Hell and stuff. Those are my dreams, if yours aren’t all Hellfire and nonsense, don’t worry about them.” Kirsty figured Pam had a long way to go until she ascended anyway.

“Nope. Mine are Louisiana nights and lots’a blood and sex and eating people.” Pam smiled a little. “Could be a lot worse. Least my mama doesn’t show up. And I work for a good guy, too. Fucked up, but who isn’t.”

“Eh, as far as dreams here go, that’s not bad at all.” Kirsty didn’t mention accidentally opening the gates of Hell and letting the damned run around, skullfucking and cannibalizing the living. She’d keep that whoopsie private.

“From what I can tell. I’m just trying to deal with not being able to go outside at all during the day.” Pam shrugged. “It’d make your job a little harder, huh. I mean your ... human ... job. Normal job. Whatever.”

“Eh, most cops are night dwellers. It wouldn’t be too bad,” Kirsty smiled. “But I imagine it’s awful being totally nocturnal. Your girlfriend’s good with it?”

“Good enough. She can make her own hours, so she goes to the library and then comes over to see me until she wants to sleep. Or she stays and goes straight to work the next day.” Pam had to smile a little, even though she didn’t want to be sappy. “It’s a pain in the ass, but I just have to deal. And at least the people following me before seem to have gone away.”

“That’s sweet,” Kirsty smiled. “Wait, people were following you? Do you want me to check into it?”

“No, no, it’s cool now. Guy I know scared ‘em off. Legally as far as I know.” She wasn’t throwing Lo under the bus. “This client of mine has some friends who don’t take no for an answer, but eventually they got the hint.” She was guessing a pretty fiery-and-brimstoney hint.

That made Kirsty raise an eyebrow. “Jesus Christ,” she murmured. “That’s ridiculous. I’m glad you’re taking it so well, I’d be freaked the fuck out.”

“I did that earlier.” Pam shook her head, though she had to smile. “Helps when your girlfriend can blow up a camera with ice magic from twenty yards.” That had been pretty cool.

Kirsty grinned. “Yeah, I’d imagine that helps. I’d probably just drop into the Hell Will Fuck You Up Growl. The voice does wonders on running perps, let me tell you.” Kirsty would probably never need to draw a firearm again.

“I can only imagine what kind of metal concert bullshit that might be.” Pam smirked. Talk about putting the fear of God into somebody.

Turning it on, Kirsty smiled. “Less metal and more just scary,” she murmured. Her voice took on the depth of three or four people speaking at once, the others sounding far more dire and serious than Kirsty Cotton ever could.

Pam’s eyes went wide. Her blood, if she’d still had any, would have frozen in her veins. “Christ,” she murmured, fighting the urge to cross herself, which she hadn’t done since age ten. “Yeah, that’d get me.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Kirsty laughed a little, trying to make Pam laugh. “I’m always tempted to order pizza that way.”

“It’s okay.” Detective Cotton hadn’t been trying to scare the piss out of her, after all. Pam took a breath. “I think I’mma enjoy myself tonight after you get back to your murder; poor bastard paid for the hotel suite before he tried to frame me.”

“Yeah, call your girlfriend, make use of it.” Kirsty downed the rest of her brandy and coffee in one big slurp, smiling at Pam afterward. “You have my number, right? Call me if things go pear shaped again.”

“Yeah, I do. Thanks. And I’m real glad you’re doing ok too, Detective.” As well as she could do with the whole priestess of hell thing. Gave her things to think about. “If there’s anything I can do, you let me know too, huh?”

“Of course.” Kirsty smiled and got up to excuse herself, using the door since the crime scene was so close. It felt nice to be normal, even if it was just for a few minutes.