In all honesty, as someone who worked in a hospital, as someone who’d committed her life and her work to protecting and taking care of the wellbeing of other human beings, Daisy didn’t like to entertain the idea of ever harming one. While she’d happily joke here and there, or sometimes let her foul moods get the better of her, any threat that she ever made was empty. Any snide remark regarding Lo, or dig directed at Billy, was always made in jest, or just in the heat of the moment. She never meant them, and she couldn’t possibly fathom putting another human being’s life at risk.
That was, of course, until Phil bleedin’ Oakley showed up out of the blue. Phil fuckin’ Oakley, who had the audacity to turn up and cast doubt in Kit’s mind. Phil bloomin’ Oakley, who thought he was somehow better fit to raise Jenna than Kit. Phil motherfucking, sleaze-bag, scum of the earth, the dirt beneath her shoes, Oakley, who thought that he had every right to just waltz on in and turn Kit’s world upside down.
As a result, Daisy was mad. Really fucking mad. She wanted to throttle the bastard, in all honesty. She wanted nothing more than to get her chubby little hands around his arrogant, dirtbag neck, and to squeeze the life from him. But, after some much needed Oz-time, her sunny friend instantly instilling a sense of calm in her just with a simple smile, she finally allowed herself a few moments of calm. Then, after texting back and forth with Beau, Lo’s younger sibling the absolute picture of reason, Daisy thought she was seeing things a little more clearly now. Admittedly, it had taken an abundance of candy, warm Ozzy-cuddles, and some wise words from a teenager to get her there, but she felt a little more at ease all the same.
So, now, with a lot of rational thinking and some much needed TLC, Daisy had concocted a foolproof plan. One that she had no doubt would work, a feat that proved 100% accurate when she pulled it off. After wrapping her arms around Oz’s neck (affectionately, of course, she hadn’t lost herself imagining him as Phil) and thanking him with a soft peck on the cheek, she’d scurried off out of his and Jaxy’s shared apartment and had set off on her venture.
So here’s the thing. Daisy wasn’t proud of what she’d done, and she supposed that technically she’d broken some law or another, but given the circumstances and how much she hated Phil after a grand total of zero interaction with the pillock, her conscience was, for the most part, clear. After some brief stalking on social media, she’d traced his movements and worked out that he’d been in the busy bean. Then she’d scouted out this one high schooler she remembered. He was this cute little thing, and he’d ended up in her emergency room a couple of times – though, each time exceptionally eager to get away – and she’d grown a strange little attachment to the kid. She supposed she shouldn’t, really, but the way he’d flounced around, calling her boo and teasing the other members of staff, flirting with passers by as though it were second nature, he’d often garnered a giggle or two out of him. Even when she’d spotted him swiping a fifty from Bennett’s wallet.
After finding the boy in question, she’d offered him a small sum of money – more than she’d like to admit, in all honesty – to hop on into the Busy Bean, work his magic, and swipe Phil’s phone. And, lo and behold, he had.
Delighted with her scheme, she’d ushered him off on his way and excitedly raced off to meet Beau at A Novel Idea. She wasn’t even sure how she was going to explain just what she’d done to the girl, knowing full well how morally wrong the whole charade was. She’d have probably gotten a high five off of Cody if she knew anything about it, but Beau couldn’t be farther from Kit’s roommate, and Daisy was certain she wouldn’t take too kindly to thieving.
Skipping in through the door, Daisy stopped only briefly to wiggle her fingers in a quick wave towards Simon, before sticking her tongue out at Billy in a rather juvenile fashion. The owner of the cafe-come-bookstore only smirked, rolled his eyes, and continued serving his customers. Then, twirling delightedly in her yellow sundress, she sat herself across from Beau with a satisfied grin on her face.
“'Iya, babes!” she greeted her, her tone warm.
Beneath the table she could feel her legs bouncing, her feet tapping excitedly against the tiles below as she patiently waited to show off her steal to Beau.
Her heart skipping ever so slightly, she bit down on her lip and smiled softly at Beau. What a bleedin’ sweetheart, ay?
“Aw, fanks, babe!” she smiled, before sincerely adding; “You look well gorge, hon! As always.”
With their greetings out of the way, Beau’s expression shifted, her entire stance turning serious. It was all business from here on out. Well, for one of them. Not that Daisy didn’t take the situation seriously, of course (she’d just stolen a bloody phone, hadn’t she?), but she’d wager that Beau was treating this far more practically than she was, putting her nifty little detective skills to use in the most impressive fashion.
Glancing at the notebook that she displayed, Daisy swiped Phil’s phone out of her pocket and slid it across the table towards Beau. Quite ecstatic with herself, Daisy stared at her, waiting for her response.
“That, babes, is Phil’s phone,” she stated, still beaming all the while.
The excitement from her slight detour from morality, and the thrill of being able to catch out that conniving prick, meant that a permanent smile had taken up residence on Daisy’s face, her cheeks practically aching from the stretch of it.
“What about that?” she asked, curiosity finally taking over as she jabbed a finger towards the notebook Beau held. “What ya got in there? Background check?”
Beau smiled brightly when Daisy complimented her, her opinion of the Cockney girl climbing higher and higher. She had never been friends with someone as loud back in Canada, but Daisy and her bleedin’ and her flippin’ ‘ecks were a welcome change of pace. The smile soon faded though when Beau took a closer peek at the phone presented to her, a bad feeling in her stomach.
It had none of the cat stickers she had on her own phone, nor did it have the ‘Vote Knope’ phone case that would mean the device belonged to Kit. She knew what Lo and Simon’s phones looked like as well and the anxiety crawling up her throat was already telling her it wasn’t Daisy’s.
“Please don’t say it, please don’t say it,” she whispered under her breath, already regretting asking the brunette.
Beau let out a short whimper of despair when Daisy cheerily informed her that it was Phil’s phone. Perhaps it wouldn’t have been so awful if Beau was even remotely surprised, but instead her shoulders sagged in defeat like she had been expecting this answer all along. Chewing on her bottom lip, she stared resolutely down at the little electronic device and wondered if she should just turn herself into Clarke right now.
“Okay… Phil’s phone,” she said slowly, reaching up to rub at the growing headache behind her temples.
“And he… gave it to you?” she had to ask, unable to stop the hopeful note in her voice. It was wishful thinking seeing as she doubted that Phil, who uploaded selfies like a priest gave sermons, would willingly hand his phone over to a perfect stranger who also happened to be firmly on Team Kit, but she stubbornly clung onto that naivety anyway.
When Daisy pointed to her notebook, Beau’s colour-coded notes and mind maps now seemed painfully redundant. Perhaps they could still help out a little but, as uncomfortably illegal as it was, Beau would have to admit – under extreme duress – that Daisy’s method of gaining information to stack up against Phil Oakley was just that little bit more efficient than her idea of using specific interrogation tactics she’d learned from her time working at the precinct.
“Nothing just… school work,” she lied, closing her notebook and propping her elbows up onto the table. She leaned away from the phone, eyeing it warily like it was about to blow up in her face.
“Daisy, please tell me you didn’t steal it from him,” she sighed.
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