Leon Orcot (under_arrest) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2018-02-01 09:47:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, leon orcot, olivia moore |
Who: Leon and Liv
What: Liv cooks some way too spicy curry, Leon finds brains in the freezer
When: Saturday, January 27th
Where: Liv's place
Ratings/Warning: Teenish? Language, talks about zombieism
It had been a few days since Leon had seen her get shot, twice, heal, and go into full on zombie mode. He still seemed to think she was joking about her zombieism. There wasn’t much Liv could do about that. If he wanted to live in denial she’d let him. As long as it didn’t mess with their friendship. Because yes, while Leon was a coworker, she considered him a friend as well. Hell, she’d be working with the guy for almost two years, tagging along on all his cases. They hung out outside of work. They were friends even if Leon didn’t want to admit it.
Liv invited him over for dinner, not thinking much about it. She made curry, extra spicy, with a touch of brains (in her bowl only). She had just put the bowls on the table when there was a knock on the door. Placing a smile on her face Liv went to let her friend in. “Hey,” she greeted. “I hope you like curry.”
If there was one thing Leon was good at, it was not thinking about things he didn’t want to think about. It was a skill that had always served him well. So, he was doing a good job at not thinking about what had happened at the Whitmore house. As far as he was concerned, the only brains zombies had were in their stomachs. Being around Liv was a goddamned headache sometimes, but she was smart, and could carry a conversation, and wasn’t mindlessly shuffling around, limbs rotting off, eating people’s brains. There was no goddamn way she was a zombie. Besides, zombies didn’t even exist.
When Liv had invited him over for dinner, his stomach had churned a little. He had to forcibly remind himself that, since Liv was not a zombie, brains would not be on the menu tonight. And he could go for some home cooked food. He hadn’t had a chance to go grocery shopping, and, besides some snacks for Chris, there wasn’t much in the apartment. Since Chris usually ate at whatever babysitter’s house he was at before Leon picked him up, it didn’t seem like too big a deal.
Still, it would be good to eat something other than take-out, and he figured he might get the chance to take some of it back home to Chris. “You’re damn rights I do,” Leon said cheerily. “I haven’t had curry in ages.”
Leon seemed happy enough. It was reassuring. So what if he didn’t believe she was a zombie? They could still be friends. One day he would probably realize she had indeed been telling the truth. She wasn’t sure exactly how that would go over.
“Well, come on in,” Liv replied stepping aside to let Leon in, shutting the door behind him. “I just finished making it,” she nodded at the table, specifically where his bowl was. No need for him to accidentally eat some brains.
Leon pulled out a couple of beers, but the rest in the fridge, and then sat where Liv indicated. “Smells good,” he said, and it was true. The smell of herbs and spices permeated the air. It almost made him want to sneeze, but not quite. “So, must be calm in the morgue without any murder victims,” he said, picking up his fork and shifting through his curry bowl looking for anything grey and suspicious. Well, maybe there were victims. He knew he wasn’t Irvine’s only homicide detective, but since he’d had no new cases since the Whitmore arrest, he assumed Liv was slow too.
Liv watched as Leon seemed to examine his food. Was he really worried? She took a bite of her own food giving him a smile. See, perfectly safe. However it was true that hers did indeed have some brains sprinkled it. But she would never do that to anyone else. That’d just be gross and cruel. Besides she needed the brains for herself.
“It’s never really calm,” Liv replied. Or slow. Someone always seemed to be getting murdered. Liv just didn’t always eat their brains. She could only handle so many personality changes. “But it’s nice not having serial killer victims coming in anymore.”
“I’ll say,” Leon grumbled. If Leon had been the kind of cop to care about his career advancement, he would have loved it. That kind of case could make or break a cops career, and he had come out on top. But Leon wasn't interested in becoming a sergeant. All he had ever wanted was to be a homicide detective, and letting Diggs kill so many innocent people still rankled.
Deciding the curry was safe, he took a large mouthful and began to chew. “I gotta say, it's been nice getting to sit back and look at some old…” Leon was aware that he'd begun to perspire. He liked his food hot, but this was… “cold…” his eyes were watering. “Cases.”
There was something very wrong. He probably should spit out the food, but he'd never been one to back down from a challenge. He forced himself to swallow and hoped he wouldn't regret it.
Liv watched as Leon struggled to choke down the curry. Was something wrong? She took another bite, well it could use more spice. At least for her taste. That was when she remembered, Leon didn’t have her taste. You’d think she’d remember things like this considering most people weren’t zombies. But well when she was cooking she was cooking for her. Not so much her dinner companion. “Let me get you some water,” Liv said shooting up from the table.
“Milk,” Leon managed to weeze. Was it possible? Could it somehow be getting even hotter? He opened his bottle of beer and chugged the bottle back, tears streaming from his eyes. It didn’t do much for the heat, but beer was beer.
Milk. Shit. Liv didn’t have any of that. And poor Leon looked like he was about to pass out or something. “I don’t have milk!” Liv cried clearly panicked. She felt so bad. She really needed to be better about the whole spice thing. Liv did return with some bread though. At least she had that. And she heard it was supposed to help.
Leon snatched the bread from Liv, and crammed a slice of it into his mouth. It did help, he found, and after chewing for a while, tears streaming down his face, the sheen of sweat on his skip, he swallowed.
He looked at Liv. He had seen her eat her food, and she hadn’t even reacted. He found it hard to believe that her bowl could be anywhere near as spicy as Leon’s had been. He liked to think that he had a fairly high tolerance for spice, but even still, he’d thought he was going to die.
“Are you trying to murder me?” he yelled.
Liv stared, wide eyed. It barely tasted spicy at all to her. Of course all she could taste anymore was spice. She must be super used to it by now. “N-n-o,” she got out taken back by his anger. “I just forgot not everyone has the same taste as me.”
Leon hesitated when Liv stuttered. He hadn’t meant to startle her, and he took a moment to rein back his annoyance. “If that’s your taste, your tastebuds must be dea-” he cut himself off before he finished the word. If she was a zombie, her tastebuds would be dead, wouldn’t they?
But no. There was no way that she was a zombie. He needed a drink.
“I need another beer,” he said, indicated the bottle he had just chugged back. “My mouth still feels like it’s on fire.” At least it was manageable now, even if he was still sniffling.
Liv knew what Leon was thinking. Her taste buds were dead. And well they were. She knew why he cut himself off too. He still wasn’t ready to face and accept the fact that Liv was a zombie.
“Help yourself,” Liv mumbled getting back to her own dinner. She was hungry after all and the spice didn’t bother her, obviously. Besides, after the way Leon just treated her she wasn’t in the mood to wait on him.
Leon got up, giving Liv an incredulous look as she got back to her spicy death trap of a meal. He wasn't sure if he'd rather believe that she could, in fact, handle the amount of heat that had been present in his curry bowl, or if she had tried to kill him by burning his mouth. But he shrugged both thoughts away and made his way to the kitchen.
He opened the fridge door, popped open a bottle of beer, and chugged back about half of it to help cool his mouth. He turned to make his way back to the dining room, but hesitated, hand still on the open fridge door. Then, he glanced over to make sure that Liv wasn’t peering over his shoulder, and began snooping through all the food in the fridge.not finding anything particularly suspicious there, he opened the freezer door.
Liv took a few more bites of food before realizing Leon hadn’t come back yet. “Am I out of beer?” she called setting her spoon down in case Leon needed some help.
“No,” Leon said over his shoulder. He frowned as he noticed a tupperware container in the freezer, and he pulled it out and glanced through the bottom. It was hard to tell what was in there, other than a lump, so he put his almost-empty beer on the counter and pried open the top.
His eyes widened, and then narrowed, his lips coming together in a thin frown. “Liv! Come in here,” he said.
Liv practically jumped when Leon called her name. Why was he angry now? But then angry was sort of Leon’s default setting. Still, Liv shot up. “What?!” she called as she rushed into the kitchen. “Is everything o-” she stopped when she saw what Leon was holding. What the hell had he been doing in her freezer? “Kay?” she finished trying her best not to sound phased.
Leon thrust out the tupperware container, glad that the grey mass inside was frozen so it didn’t jiggle like it no doubt would have otherwise. “The hell is this?”
Liv had already explained to Leon what she was once. He didn’t believe her then. Was he starting to now? Liv told herself she wasn’t going to bring the subject up again until she was sure Leon was ready to hear it. There was only one way to tell. “What do you think it is?” she asked her voice calm.
Leon scowled, glared at the brain in the Tupperware, and then glared back at Liv. He didn’t want to, couldn’t, believe that Liv was a zombie. It made no goddamn sense. He’d seen Liv drunk. Could zombies even get drunk? He was pretty sure they couldn’t, given that they were dead and all. And he’d spent two years working with her. There was no way that she was a zombie and he just didn’t know.
But what was the alternative? That she just kept human brains in her freezer for… fun? There were obvious pieces missing. She kept human brains in her freezer to eat then? How the hell would he have worked alongside a fucking cannibal for two years without figuring it out? So much for his gut.
Though if she was a zombie, didn’t that also mean she was a cannibal?
His head hurt. He reached for the beer that he’d put on the counter, poured what little remained down his throat, and then pulled another one from the fridge to chug it down too. “Whose brain is this?” he demanded, after he’d emptied half the bottle.
Liv watched as Leon attempted to process the information. She could tell he was a mix of angry and confused. The confused she could deal with. Angry? Not so much. Was he going to hate her now? Stop taking her to investigate with him? She couldn’t bear either of those things. Maybe she had tried to tell him too soon. She knew she needed to wait longer. Why the hell did that Whitmore bitch have to shoot at her? Trigginer full-on-zombie-mode.
“It’s Rachel Steele’s,” Liv replied honestly. No point in lying now. He already knew everything anyway. It was just a matter of believing it. “She was already dead,” she clarified. Leon already knew that but he might have forgotten in the current state he seemed to be in.
“You know keeping a human brain in your freezer is illegal,” Leon grumbled. Actually, he didn't know about that for sure, brain-keeping laws not being something he ever had looked into. But even if it wasn't, stealing a brain from a morgue without the deceased’s permission definitely was. And why Rachel Steele’s? There were probably dozens of people who got wheeled into the city morgue on a regular basis, why his victim? Could it have something to do with Liv’s visions?
Did Liv even have visions? Maybe… maybe the missing chunks of brain hadn't been eaten after all, but rather put into some fancy computer that could read it's memories like one of those weird-ass science fiction novels Harry had always liked to read when they were kids.
“You have some kind of brain-reading computer stashed away here?” Leon said, already sounding resigned. It hadn't sounded believable in his head, let alone after he said it aloud.
Of course Leon had to say something about it being illegal. Because he had to focus on what he knew. Not what Liv was. What did he expect her to do? Go to the morgue every time she needed a meal? That was dangerous. What if she didn’t make it in time? Her hunger could easily take over and she could hurt someone. But how would she explain all that to Leon when he still refused to believe what she was.
Further evident by his next statement. Liv just blinked, staring at him. How the hell had Leon’s mind gotten to brain-reading computer? “Do I have a what?”
“Nevermind,” Leon said, pinching the bridge of his nose. There really was no other explanation, was there? Liv, for whatever reason, claimed she was a zombie and kept human brains in her freezer. And unless she was seriously deranged, what other reason could there be?
What the hell had his life become that that was even an option?
He pinched the bridge of his nose, and then rose his head again. “So is Dan a,” air quotes, “‘zombie’ too then? How many of you are there?”
Okay, Leon seemed to be coming to terms with this. Finally. It had been two years of working so closely with him and having to hide what she was. Even though Leon was finally realizing it, Liv knew it would still take him awhile to process and accept everything. That was the part Liv was dreading. There was a chance Leon wouldn’t be able to accept her. But she didn’t want to think about that right now.
“Just me,” she replied. Well Lowell too, but he wasn’t around anymore and outing him wasn’t really her place. “Dan’s human.”
Leon frowned to himself, the corners of his lips tugging downwards. Dan was human? But he and Liv had been dating for pretty close to a month. “So, how do you guys…. You know?” he asked.
Oh yeah. She knew. “We don’t.” There was definite sadness in Liv’s voice. It was something they were struggling with. As much as Liv loved him and wanted to believe they would find a way. She also didn’t want to leave Dan trapped in a sexless relationship. She was trying not to think about it too much. About the future. Right now it was fine.
Leon’s eyebrows came together, and his frown deepened. They didn’t? But weren’t they dating? What was the point in dating without all the good, hot, sweaty, naked stuff? Obviously, turning Dan into a zombie was a Very Bad Idea, but why even bother dating in the first place.
He shook his head. Whatever. It didn’t matter. That wasn’t what was important here anyway. He opened his mouth to say something, and then realization hit. “Wait, we kissed. Does that mean that I’m going to turn into a zombie?”
He’d never heard of zombies turning people by kissing them, but then, he’d never heard of zombies kissing people in general. Normally if their mouth was on someone it was because they were eating them.
Liv almost laughed at Leon’s question. If he was going to turn into a zombie from the kiss they shared over a month ago didn’t he think it would have happened by now? But this was a serious matter. Leon was processing and Liv was here to answer all his questions. Even the ones about her sex life.
“No. It’s just through sex or a scratch. Don’t worry, I don’t go around turning people.” That would just be wrong. No one should have to go through this.
Leon rubbed the side of his head, frowning to himself. This was all too much. His mind kept coming back to what a tragedy it would be he if could no longer have sex, but he realized that that was mostly because, as much as he really, really didn’t want to think about Liv having sex (or not having sex, as the case apparently was), anything else about the fact that he was standing in front of a zombie right now made his skin crawl. Zombies were ghoulish. They were brainless. They shuffled around, and they ate people, and they sure as hell weren’t Liv.
“Okay. So. Why can you talk?” he asked after a moment.
Leon seemed a bit less angry. He actually seemed resigned. However, if they were going to go in depth on why Liv was the way she was. How this all worked. Well, maybe standing in her kitchen wasn’t the best way to do it. “Do you want to sit down?”
“No I don’t want to sit down,” Leon snapped. Deep breaths, Leon. It wasn’t like Liv deserved to get snapped at for asking if he wanted to sit down, but he was too on edge to sit. Pacing was a habit he’d broken when he was in the academy, but he’d never managed do the whole sitting thing when he was this wound up.
“Sorry,” he said, finishing his beer. “You got any tea or something? No, of course you wouldn’t have any tea, you’re a fucking zombie.” He reached for another beer from the fridge. “We don’t have to do this in here if you wanna go to the living room or outside or something, but I couldn’t sit down right now if I tried.”
And he was back to anger. Liv wasn’t going to make him sit if he didn’t want to. She just thought it might be easier. But if he wanted to pace in her kitchen then she was content to just let him. “Okay,” Liv replied with a sigh. She didn’t have tea but she did walk over to the fridge and pulled out another beer, offering it to Leon. Maybe alcohol would help.
“I didn’t know zombies like me existed. I thought the same as you. They were just mindless creatures feeding on brains. But then I started dreaming…” she wasn’t going to go into the details of her dreams right now. That wasn’t his question. “As long as I stay fed, I can function. Remain some version of myself. But if I don’t… if I go too long…” she paused swallowing. This wasn’t exactly easy for Liv to talk about. “If I starve. I will turn into one of those. And there will be no bringing me back.”
Leon took the beer with a “thanks,” and took a sip. Guzzling another beer wasn’t going to help matters, but it was still a comfort to have one in his hand.
“Alright,” Leon said, crossing his arms over his chest, hid eyebrows furrowed in thought. “So, you turn into a zombie, and if you don’t eat… brains… you go Full Romero.” That … well, okay, it could make less sense. “So you go ‘hey, let’s get a job at the morgue. Free lunch’ or whatever. And so you just chow down on murder victims and what… turn into them?” How the fuck did that make sense? He hadn’t really thought about it before he said it, but that would sure explain how he could never quite keep up with Liv’s personality changes. “Does it have to be human brains? I hear there’s all sorts of weirdos who eat shit like cow brains.”
Technically she already had the job at the morgue. In her dreams she had gotten one at the morgue to eat brains. But here? She was already working as a M.E. when she changed. She didn’t bother to correct Leon though. Especially when he had more questions.
“Yeah. Only human brains. Others won’t work.” If only it were that easy. Just eat a cow brain. But no, it had to be humans. “I know it doesn’t make it right, but I get visions of their death. So I limit myself to murder victims. If I have to be like this. The least I can do is help the murdered get justice.” So please, don’t stop taking her to investigate, Leon.
Leon wanted to be angry at Liv. He wanted to be angry at her for cutting out people’s brains and stuffing them in her freezer and eating them. He sure as hell didn’t want to be buddying up to a zombie.
But there was nothing that she said that he could be angry at. Not a goddamn thing. He took a deep breath in through his nose, and then gave an annoyed sigh. “I guess that’s all you can do,” he grumbled. “You can still get your… visions… if you’re at the morgue, right?”
“Yeah,” Liv said already knowing where his question was heading. He wasn’t going to take her with him anymore. Liv wasn’t sure she could deal with that. In her dreams those few weeks Clive didn’t let her investigate with him had been hell. “Only if something triggers them though. Which is a lot easier at a crime scene or talking to witnesses.” She wasn’t lying either. Her visions always needed a trigger.
Leon frowned and rubbed the side of his head, deliberately not looking at Liv. He felt a little bad about this. He knew he’d needed to have this talk with her eventually, he had even planned for it to be over dinner before she’d tried to kill him with cumin, but he hadn’t been looking forward to it even then.
“Listen, Liv, the Captain was pissed after the whole Rachel Steele case. He screamed until he was hoarse and kept screaming after. Told me he’d have my head if I took another civilian into a situation like that.” He gave her a plaintive look, hoping that she’d understand. He didn’t have much choice in the matter, and he couldn’t really disagree with the cap in this case. If Liv had been human, right now she’d either be in the hospital or in her grave.
Liv frowned. She wanted to argue with Leon. Insist that he still take her with him. But well, now wasn’t the time. The important thing was he knew what she was and didn’t seem to completely hate her. Maybe, hopefully with a bit of time he would change his mind about taking her to crime scenes. Even with the Captain’s yelling.
“Okay,” Liv finally said, although the sadness was evident in both her tone and her eyes. “I understand,” she added. And she did understand. That situation hadn’t exactly been ideal. “I’ll just go back to being a regular ME,” a pause. “But Leon?”
‘Regular ME’ didn’t really suit Liv. Even before he’d started taking her out to question witnesses with him, she’d always been more than just a regular ME. She’d been his a psychic ME. But it wasn’t like there was anything he could do about it. “Yeah?” he asked.
“We’re still friends, right?” Not going to crime scenes or questioning suspects anymore. That she could maybe handle. But she didn’t want to lose Leon from her life. Lose his friendship.
Leon took a sip from his beer, thinking it over. Could Leon be friends with a cannibalistic zombie? After a moment, he sighed. “Yeah,” he said. “We’re still friends. Just so long as you don’t attempt to burn my fucking tongue off again.”
“Deal,” Liv gave him a small smile. That hadn’t gone exactly as she wanted. But hey, with Leon, it could have gone a whole lot worse.